Secret Hearts Read Online Free Page A

earlier generation.
           Barring
his love for Tom’s mother, Uncle Gordon had been practical, too, and
he’d done really well for himself. Tom’s gaze swept the room yet
again. The furnishings of this room alone were worth more than his parents’
entire household in Alabama; Tom would bet anything on it if he were
a betting man. Being the practical person he was, however, Tom didn’t
gamble.
           It
was practicality that had seen him into the army even though he knew
the Confederacy was doomed. He’d had to get away from home, and the
army was the only way he could see to do it without breaking his parents’
hearts. They, being the fanciful, addle-pated fools they were, had thought
he was being noble.
           Tom
rested his head on the back of the chair and stared moodily at the ceiling.
Noble! Lord. Well, he guessed his old uncle Gordo had thought he was
noble, too. Why on earth else would he have left him this magnificent
estate?
           Now
Tom would have to figure out how to help his parents without giving
them money outright. If he simply handed them cash, they’d fritter
it away, sure as anything. With a heavy sigh, he decided he’d tackle
that problem later. Right now he planned to wallow in fine cognac and
newly acquired riches.
           And
horses. Tom grinned as he contemplated Jedediah Silver’s visit on
the morrow. Silver would be able to tell him if his dream were doomed
or if Tom could at last indulge his fondest wish.
           Good
old Uncle Gordo. Even if he had made Tom’s life miserable in some
respects, the old fellow had certainly done him a good turn by leaving
him his estate and his fortune. Perhaps unrequited love, the very thought
of which stirred Tom’s pragmatic soul to wry amusement, wasn’t such
an idiotic waste after all. It had benefited Tom Partington, for a pure
fact.
           Tom
pulled out another slim cheroot, sipped his cognac, and wrinkled his
nose. The wretched stuff had probably cost a damned fortune. With a
grin, he decided he could get used to it.
     
           
    Chapter 2  
           At
Tom’s request, Claire took breakfast with him at eight o’clock the
following morning. She was in the dining room, in fact, when Tom pushed
the door open. Claire looked up eagerly—and dropped her fork.
           “You
shaved off your mustache!”
           Tom
stopped dead in the doorway and blinked at her, obviously startled.
Claire was too shocked to be appalled by her shrill bellow.
           How
could he have done such a dastardly thing? Why, Tuscaloosa Tom Pardee’s
mustache was dashing! It was gorgeous! It was what distinguished Tuscaloosa
Tom from a thousand other, inferior, frontier scouts! How in the name
of heaven could he have shaved it off? She suppressed an impulse to
surge from her chair and pummel him.
           “I
beg your pardon?”
           Tom’s
puzzled voice gradually penetrated Claire’s rage and astonishment,
and she realized she’d just shrieked at her employer. Immediately,
she felt her cheeks get hot, and she knew she’d turned beet-red. Good
heavens, what on earth was she thinking of? She sucked in a deep breath.
She hadn’t thought at all, was the problem.
           With
the cheerless knowledge that her breeding had again blindsided her,
Claire tore her gaze away from her employer’s naked face and bowed
her head. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Partington. I don’t know what possessed
me to shout at you in that unseemly way. Please forgive me.”
           Humiliation
still burned her cheeks. Claire wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d
fired her on the spot. She was, therefore, doubly amazed when she heard
his throaty chuckle. Although she feared what she might see, she dared
lift her head a fraction and looked at him.
           He’d
recovered from his shock at her indiscreet shout, and was grinning