Father For Keeps

Cover Page

Excerpt

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Copyright

“I didn’t come all this way to visit for a day or two.”

All the glow from her interaction with the baby had left her face. “How long will you be here?”

Sean’s eyes went to the baby. “As long as it takes to convince you to marry me,” he answered tersely. The minute he said it, he knew it had been a mistake. He’d started out on the right path with the flowers, the gifts for the baby, trying to get her sister, Jennie, on his side. But meeting his daughter had rattled him. Suddenly it had become more important than he’d realized that he be able to stake his claim on her…and on Kate.

Kate made no reply for a long moment. Finally she leaned over, gathered the baby into her arms and stood. “Be prepared for a long stay then, Sean, because I’ll never agree to marry you…!”

Dear Reader,

Entertainment. Escape. Fantasy. These three words describe the heart of Harlequin Historicals. If you want compelling, emotional stories by some of the best writers m the field, look no further.

Ana Seymour made her writing debut in our 1992 March Madness Promotion. Since then she has written eleven historical romances, from Westerns to medieval stories. Critics have described her work as “brilliant,” “enchanting” and “impossible to put down.” Her latest Western, A Father for Keeps, is no exception. It is the stirring reunion romance of a San Francisco heir who returns to Nevada to win back his lost love, who is also the mother of his child. Don’t miss it’

Be sure to look for Robber Bride by the talented Deborah Simmons. The third de Burgh brother, Simon, finds his match in a free-spirited lady who is hiding from her despicable fianc&e2;. In Carolyn Davidson’s Americana tale, The Tender Stranger, a pregnant widow who runs away from her conniving in-laws falls in love with the bounty hunter hired to bring her home.

Award-winning author Ruth Langan returns this month with Rory, the first book in her new medieval series, THE O’NEIL SAGA. In it, an English noblewoman succumbs to the charm of the legendary Irish rebel she is nursing back to health.

Whatever your tastes in reading, you’ll be sure to find a romantic journey back to the past between the covers of a Harlequin Historical®

Sincerely,

Tracy Farrell

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to

Harlequm Reader Service

U S 3010 Walden Ave., PO Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie Ont. L2A 5X3

Father For Keeps

Ana Seymour

ANA SEYMOUR

The strong Scandinavian heritage of Ana Seymour’s native state of Minnesota has contributed to her love of writing stories about family strength and support. She says the idea for books about two sisters came from watching the interaction between her own two daughters, now young adults, who are best friends, as well as sisters. Readers may write to Ana at: P.O. Box 47888, Minneapolis, MN 55447.

For the remarkable Liz and Bill Whitbeck—with affection and gratitude for a lifetime of friendship and support

Chapter One

Vermillion, Nevada

September 1882

The blood drained from Kate Sheridan’s cheeks. Somewhere behind her in the house she could vaguely hear Caroline beginning to fuss, but the cries were not yet strident. She put a hand against the front door frame to steady herself.

“Hello, Kate,” he said simply.

She hadn’t heard the voice for over a year and a half, but the sound of it m her head was as familiar as her own breathing. She knew every contour of his face, every crinkle around those blue eyes. Without looking, she could have traced exactly the strong line of his jaw.

Out on Elm Street a buggy clopped by, the Ban crofts from two doors down. Kate’s eyes were too glazed to see if it was Mr. Bancroft driving or their manservant.

Sean kept his head turned toward her, his expression stiff. After a few more seconds of awkward silence, he said, “I should have written first. Or wired. I’m sorry if I startled you.”

She gripped the wood of the door frame more tightly and drove a splinter into her finger. “Lordy!” she said, pulling her hand away and waving it in irritation.

Sean’s lips turned up in a slight smile.

Kate frowned and finally addressed her visitor.

“What are you smiling about?”

Immediately his expression sobered. “Nothing. I mean.it’s just that you always used to say that when you were riled ‘Lordy!’ It took me back.”

Her wounded finger forgotten, Kim square in the face. The words tumbled out. “Well, you can just let it take you back, Sean Flaherty. You can let it take you all the way back to wherever you disappeared to for the past eighteen months. Because you’re not welcome here. Not here, nor anywhere else in Vermillion, I’d venture to say.”

Sean’s only reply was a wince. He was looking over her shoulder into the house. Caroline was crying in earnest now. Kate could hear Jennie singing to try to calm her, but her sister’s efforts seemed to be having little effect.

“I have nothing to say to you, Sean,” Kate said hurriedly. “I’m sorry.” She took a step back and began to close the door in his face, but he was too quick for her. His arm shot out and stopped the heavy door cold.

“I don’t expect you to welcome me, Kate,” he said. “But you will see me. And we do have some things to talk about.” He took a step toward her, crossing the threshold into the Sheridans’ front hall. Kate moved backward. “To start with, you can tell me why there’s a baby crying in the household of two single sisters.”

Kate could feel the blood pounding in her ears. “Jennie’s married,” she blurted. Sean’s startled look helped Kate relax. This was a safe enough topic. She continued more calmly. “She married a lawyer. His name’s Carter Jones.”

Sean frowned. “I don’t remember anyone by that name.”

“Carter’s new in town since you were here.” Kate’s voice turned colder. “Of course, you weren’t really in town long enough to remember a lot of people. You were only here long enough to.” She bit her lip.

Sean cocked his head. Now, she remembered that—the way he used to cock his head and flash his roguish smile. “Long enough to.what, Katie Marie?” He spoke more softly. “To make you fall in love with me?”

She shook her head and once again found herself blinking back tears. “I’m asking you to leave, Sean. Please don’t make this any more difficult.”

He reached out a hand and brushed a finger along her cheek. “You’re pale, sweetheart. You haven’t been spending enough time out in that beloved garden of yours.”

Jennie, Carter and their three silver-miner boarders had harvested the garden this year while Caroline’s month-long croup had kept Kate fretting indoors. But there was no way she would be explaining to Sean about Caroline’s croup.

“If I’m pale, it’s probably from the shock of seeing you again, Sean. The disagreeable shock,” she clarified.

He gave his half smile again. “Well, once you’re over the shock,” he said, his voice gently mocking, “I’ll get to work on convincing you that having me back’s not disagreeable at all.”

“Don’t waste your effort. I’m not interested in having you back. And if you don’t leave, I’ll just have to call my brother-in-law and ask him to escort you out.” She spoke firmly and, to her relief, her voice didn’t waver.

Sean’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You’ve changed, Kate. Where’s the gentle little sweetheart who used to weave me chains of wildflowers out on Pritchard’s Hill?”

Kate closed her eyes briefly, then faced him once again. “She grew up, Sean. Being jilted by the only man she ever loved and losing both parents in the same month serves as a rather abrupt boost into adulthood. I don’t go to Pritchard’s Hill anymore.”

He edged closer and held her upper arm to keep her near. “I’m so sorry about your parents, Kate.” His voice was low and husky, the way she remembered it in her dreams. “If I’d known about the flu epidemic.” He looked away as the words trailed off, but after a moment, he met her eyes once again and continued. “At least you’re admitting that you love me.”

“Loved. Past tense.”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s what I’ve come back to find out.”

Those vivid blue eyes. Even when she’d been most angry and bitter after he’d left her, she’d lie in bed at night remembering those eyes, and the wanting would come. She’d remember how they’d watched her, first with tenderness, then desire, as he taught her body to soar. Then she’d move restlessly between her sheets and ache for him.

“You can consider your mission accomplished. I want nothing more to do with you, Sean Flaherty. It’s over.”

His hair was longer, the curls more tangled than ever. He ran his hands back through them now, perplexed. “I’ve come a long way, Katie. I’m not about to give up this easily.”

Caroline, who had been temporarily calmed by Jennie’s singing, chose that moment to howl her displeasure at the continued delay of her regular feeding. Kate felt the familiar tingling in her breasts, and looked down with horror as the front of her dress grew damp.

Sean followed her gaze, his eyes widening. “That’s not Jennie’s baby, Kate,” he said tightly. “It’s yours. It’s our child, isn’t it?”

There was no way to deny the two dark spots in her light blue worsted dress. “She’s my baby,” she admitted, her throat constricting with sudden panic. “But that doesn’t mean she’s yours. You’ve been gone a long time. I could have been with any number of men by now.”

Sean shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so.” He stepped around her into the center of the hall. “I want to see her.”

The curtain to the parlor parted and Carter Jones’ tall form filled the archway. “Are you all right, Kate?” he asked, his eyes on Sean.

Obviously their conversation had been heard not only by Carter, but by the three miners as well, since the four men had been just beyond the curtain, engaged in their nightly card game.

Kate clasped her hands tightly at her waist. “Mr. Flaherty was just leaving,” she told her brother-in-law. The look she sent Sean was half-pleading.

Sean looked from Kate to Carter. He took a step forward and held out his hand. “Sean Flaherty,” he said.

After a slight hesitation, Carter shook his hand, then said, “It’s a mite late for callers, Mr. Flaherty. We’re early risers here at Sheridan House. Perhaps you could return with your business at a more reasonable hour.”

Sean met his level gaze for a long moment, then turned to Kate. “I’ll come back in the morning. Maybe you’ll be over the shock by then, and we can sit down and talk things out.”

Kate wanted nothing more than to be rid of him and to flee upstairs to clasp Caroline in her arms. “I’ve told you we have nothing to talk about, Sean. But if you need to have me tell you again, come in the morning.”

Sean looked up the stairs where the baby was still crying inconsolably. “I’ll be here at ten,” he said. Then he walked out the door and clattered down the front steps.

Carter stood in the parlor door watching Kate with a sympathetic expression. “You’re going to have to tell him, you know,” he said gently.

Kate shook her head. “I don’t have to tell him anything. Sean Flaherty may have been present when Caroline was created, but he wasn’t around when I almost died carrying her. He wasn’t around to help me or Jennie when our parents died or when we were about to lose our home. And he wasn’t around to prevent the entire town from branding me a fallen woman.”

“But he’s come back.”

Kate looked out the still-open door where Sean had disappeared into the night. “Yes.” Her voice was weary. “He’s come back.”

“You’re not telling me what it felt like to see him again.” Jennie Sheridan looked nothing like her sister. Shorter, darker, her eyes were brown instead of Kate’s crystal blue.

“Ouch! You don’t have to go clear through to the nail.” Kate watched with an intent frown as Jennie dug at the splinter in her finger.

“I declare, sis, you’re a bigger baby than Caroline. He was as handsome as ever, I suppose. Aha, got it!”

Kate let out a relieved breath and put her finger up to her mouth to suck the place where Jennie had poked. They were sitting on the bed in Kate’s room. Caroline was sleeping peacefully in her crib in the corner after taking her fill of her mother’s milk. “You were the one who always said he was a scoundrel and a scalawag and I don’t know what else.”

Jennie bounced back against the headboard and made herself comfortable among her sister’s pillows. It didn’t appear that she would leave until Kate answered her questions to her satisfaction. “He is a scoundrel,” she said. “But I never said he wasn’t handsome. He’s a black-haired, blue-eyed devil full of Irish blarney, but a mighty pretty one. Of course—” Jennie’s eyes sparkled “—I’m partial to blondes, myself.”

“Gray-eyed blondes. One in particular,” Kate added. She climbed over her sister’s legs to sit comfortably next to her at the head of the bed. “Yes, Sean’s as handsome as ever. But that has nothing to do with me anymore.”

“There’s no feeling left at all?”

Kate glanced sideways at her sister. Only sixteen months apart in age, the two had always been as close as twins. She’d never even bothered to try to lie to Jennie—it wouldn’t have done any good. “My heart was pounding like the steam pump at the mine. But it could have just been the surprise of it.”

“So when are you going to tell him?”

“Jennie, I’m not. My life is no longer any of his business.”

“But Caroline is his daughter.”

“Caroline’s my daughter.”

Jennie grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her middle. She was quiet for a moment, then said softly, “Don’t you think Caroline has a right to a father?”

Kate’s face was grim. “She has you and me. And she already has five men in her life—Carter, Barnaby and the silverheels.”

From the day their three silver-mining boarders had come to rent rooms, tracking silver dust into the parlor, Jennie and Kate had dubbed the men their “silverheels.” Jennie reached for her sister’s hand and squeezed it. “The silverheels love your little girl, Kate, but one of these days when the silver plays out, they’ll be moving on. Barnaby’s just a boy, and Carter’s her uncle, not her father.”

“So you think I should let Caroline learn to love Sean so that one day he can take off and leave her without warning the way he did me? I don’t think so.”

“He may regret leaving. After all, he came back, didn’t he?”

Kate knocked the back of her head against the headboard in frustration. “I can’t believe you’re arguing for him, Jen. After he left, you spent months trying to convince me that I was better off forgetting about any man who would be such a cad as to leave a woman pregnant and alone.”

“But he didn’t know you were pregnant.”

“He certainly knew we’d made love, didn’t he?” Kate’s voice rose in anger. “I can’t understand why you’re suddenly acting as if I should forget how he left without a goodbye, leaving me to face the consequences.”

Jennie sighed. “I’m not trying to take his part, Kate. Or suggest that you forgive him. It’s just that-in all this time, you haven’t seemed to be interested in any other man. It’s as if Sean took over your heart so completely there’s no room for anyone else.”

“Well, that’s silly to say. Lyle’s here almost every day.”

“Oh, pooh. Lyle Wentworth is an arrogant, spoiled boy who’s never done an honest day’s work in his life. He’s not even worth considering.”

“He’s a year older than you, sis, and he is working now.”

“A token job in his pa’s bank. No one else would have him.”

Kate sighed and slid down until she was lying flat on the bed. “I’m bushed, Jennie. If I have to face Sean again in the morning, I’m going to have to get some sleep.”

Jennie’s face twisted with sympathy. She ran a hand over her sister’s forehead. “You’re working too hard for a nursing mother.”

Kate reached up to squeeze her sister’s hand. “You’re one to talk about working hard. How about when I was in the hospital and you were running the boardinghouse all by yourself, and cooking for the men up at the Wesley mine?”

Jennie grinned. “You’ll pay me back. When I get in a family way, I intend to let you wait on me hand and foot.”

Kate smiled. “It’s a deal. And the way you and Carter disappear upstairs regularly, I suspect that time will come any day.” She ducked as Jennie swatted her with the pillow, then gave her sister a gentle push off the bed. “Now get out of here and let me get some sleep.”

It was getting late in the season for flowers, but a two-dollar gold piece had spurred ambition in the usually indifferent hotel clerk. Within an hour after breakfast, the lad had rounded up a bouquet large enough to stir the heads of even the snobbiest Nob Hill debutantes back in San Francisco. Here in Vermillion, the offering should take Kate Sheridan’s breath away. For good measure, Sean stopped at the dry goods store, balancing the flowers precariously in one arm. What did one buy for a baby? Not just a baby—his own daughter. The concept still made him weak in the knees.

The front table was stacked with bolts of heavy muslin, winter weight for the approaching cold. Did babies need winter clothes? he wondered.

“May I help you, sir?”

Sean gave an inward groan and wondered if it would be too impossibly rude to turn tail and run out of the store. Weaving her way through the colorful displays of cloth was Henrietta Billingsley, wife of the store owner and self-appointed guardian of Vermillion morality.

“It’s Mr. Flaherty, isn’t it?” Mrs. Billingsley continued. She had a proprietor’s smile on her face, but her eyes could kill a duelist at thirty paces.

“How do you do, Mrs. Billingsley?” Sean said, fumbling to remove his hat without dropping the armload of flowers. Lord, what had possessed him to come into this particular store?

“We all thought you’d left Vermillion for good. Over a year ago, wasn’t it?”

Sean had the feeling that Mrs. Billingsley knew to the day how long he’d been absent from town and also knew every detail of his transgression. Well, to hell with it. He didn’t expect to be in town long enough to care what she or anyone else thought of him. He’d come to collect Kate and his daughter, and as far as he was concerned, that would be the last he’d see of Vermillion.

“Unfortunately, the family businesses required my attention,” Sean answered in his most imperious tone. He’d discovered that self-righteous people were often best handled with a superior air.

“The family businesses…?”

“Shipping, banking…Flaherty Enterprises,” he ended as if to say that anyone important would recognize the name.

“Urn, of course.” Henrietta’s voice was a httle less certain. “What can I help you with today, Mr. Flaherty?” She cast a curious glance at the flowers.

“I need something for a baby. Something warm,” he ended uncertainly.

There was a gleam in Mrs. Billingsley’s eyes. “And how old is the child?”

Once again, Sean was certain that she knew precisely how old his daughter was. She probably knew more exactly than he. He frowned. Hell, a man ought to know how old his own daughter was. “Around a year. No, less.”

“Around the age of little Caroline Sheridan? Nine months?”

Sean felt the heat rising around his stiff collar. The annoying woman had the ability to make you feel as if she were a schoolmarm about to switch you for putting wet rags in the potbellied furnace. “Perhaps I’ll come back later,” he said. “After I find out what the baby needs.” He backed toward the door.

Henrietta began to straighten the perfectly arranged bolts of cloth next to where Sean had been standing, as if his presence had somehow disturbed their harmony. “We’ll be happy to take care of you when you’re ready, Mr. Flaherty. Just let us know. If it’s the Sheridan baby you’re interested in, I imagine the child could use a number of items. Those girls have been plumb broke since their parents died leaving nothing but debts. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been dressing the little tyke in rags.”

Sean didn’t know if his sudden rage came from effrontery of the gossipy woman or from the thought of his daughter in tatters. He clapped his hat back on his head. “How much material does it take to make a dress for a baby?”

“For just a tiny one? Oh, two yards should do.”

He gestured to the table of cloth. “I want two yards of each one of these sent to the Sheridan house.”

Mrs. Billingsley’s jaw dropped. “Each one?” she asked. “There must be two dozen different—”

“Each one. I’ll be in to settle the account later this afternoon.” Then he nodded and left the store, letting the flimsy door bang shut behind him.

Uncharacteristically, Sean felt his heart speeding up as he opened the gate and headed up the walk toward the Sheridan house. He hadn’t realized that he would be so affected by seeing Kate again. These months back in his own world in San Francisco society, he’d managed to convince himself that his lightning love affair with a simple girl from the mountains had been nothing more than a springtime idyll. But yesterday, looking into those clear blue eyes, he’d felt a stirring somewhere deep inside, somewhere that hadn’t often been touched in his comfortable life.

It was Jennie, not Kate, who opened the door. She seemed to be expecting him, but she didn’t step back to allow him to enter.

“Hello, Jennie,” he said. “It’s good to see you again. You’re looking well. Married life must agree with you.”

She didn’t return his smile. “She doesn’t want to see you, Sean. I’m sorry. I thought.”

“Thank you for writing. It was the right thing to do.”

Jennie looked quickly back over her shoulder as if to assure herself that the hall was empty. She spoke quietly. “I’m not so sure of that anymore. If she knew I’d written you about the baby, she’d be furious with me.”

“Well, I won’t tell her. I would rather she thought I came back for her all on my own.” He shifted the huge bouquet. “May I come in?”

Jennie ignored the request and continued talking almost to herself, justifying her action. “She’s fully recovered her health from the difficult birth, but she just seemed to be getting more…listless. And then there was Lyle coming around all the time trying to talk her into marrying him for the baby’s sake. I didn’t know what to do.”