Free Ana Seymour by Father for Keeps

knuckles.
    The nights had not been much better. Jammed into tiny rooms at overcrowded rest stops, Sean had madeno attempt to resume their lovemaking. He seemed tired and distant, and Kate didn’t know what she should do about it. At times she concluded that his mood must mean that he was already regretting his decision to link his life with someone so different from the ladies he was used to back home. Perhaps he was dreading having to present her to his parents and fine friends. Since he’d become so pensive when the subject had arisen on their wedding night, she’d been afraid to bring it up.
    Caroline was the one bright spot. It gave Kate a warm glow to watch Sean play with her and delight in her antics. When she and Sean would laugh together at the baby’s unintelligible attempts to formulate words or her wide-eyed exploration of each new item she encountered on the journey, it made Kate feel as if they truly were husband and wife.
    Sean had become surprisingly comfortable with the baby. When she’d begin fussing, more often than not by the time Kate reached for her, Sean had already snatched her up into his arms. He never complained about her restless nights, and had even taken to changing her wet clothes now and then, though he’d let Kate deal with the washing.
    But when the baby was asleep and Sean got that somber look on his face as he sat gazing out at the sage-covered hills, Kate would feel the beginnings of an unsettled dread in her stomach. She didn’t know what kind of life awaited her up on that intimidatingsounding place called Nob Hill, but she was starting to get the feeling that her year of single motherhood would be a picnic in comparison.
    *   *   *
    San Francisco was already full of rich speculators, merchants, railroad tycoons and gold barons before discovery of the Comstock lode. But the unimaginably rich silver strike had ushered in a whole class of instant millionaires, wealthy “nobs” who began building their ostentatious mansions up on a hill overlooking the city and the bay, which soon became known as Nob Hill.
    They fueled the growth of the city, investing in coal companies, factories, woolen mills, silk weaving, all variety of enterprise. Patrick Flaherty was among the earlier arrivals to the Paris of the West. Arriving with a modest sum obtained from a gold strike that had played out before it could yield real wealth, he had chosen to invest in exporting and shipping. The move had multiplied his wealth beyond his wildest dreams. A city full of new rich, hungry for marble from Italy for their carved mantlepieces, wicker furniture from China for their long verandas or Parisian glass for their atrium skylights increased his shipping operations tenfold, and then tenfold again.
    The Flahertys were also among the early builders on Nob Hill. Their mansion was relatively simple compared to some of the ornate structures that were now being called Victorian. But to Kate, the Flaherty mansion was nothing short of a palace.
    Her mouth fell open as she followed a step behind Sean into the huge entrance foyer. It was dominated by an imposing staircase with a large wrought iron candelabra sprouting up from the newel post like an iron tree. Gilt-edged mirrors went floor to ceiling alongboth side walls, reflecting endless images of herself looking small and lost as she stood in the simple blue serge coat that had been her mother’s, holding a sleeping Caroline.
    The door had been opened by a uniformed young man who had disappeared before Kate could even thank him.
    Sean put Caroline’s basket and bag on one of the elegant hall chairs and turned around to face her. “Welcome home, sweetheart,” he said. smiling.
    Kate felt as if she hadn’t slept in weeks, but she managed a wan smile. It was the first time he’d called her sweetheart on the entire journey. Perhaps things would be better now that they were truly home The strangeness that had settled over them on their wedding night would