Mail-Order Matty

Until he’d been presented with Heidi.

He supposed something valuable must have come from yesterday’s experiences. He had observed Matty under the worst of conditions, and he had seen that she was a trouper. She had taken Nanny and Kevin in stride, and struggled gamely with her own physical discomfort. She hadn’t uttered a word of complaint, not even this morning, when she’d had plenty to complain about. Everything had to feel strange to her, insecure and overwhelming. Yet she had managed to stay cheerful. She hadn’t blamed anyone else; she hadn’t insisted he apologize.

In every way Matty was a surprise. He had believed that he knew everything important about her. The retired police detective who had investigated her had been thorough. But no one could have prepared Damon for how guileless she was, how completely feminine, how trusting. She had sat at the kitchen table last night drinking Nanny’s outrageous tea as if it were something rare and delectable from the choicest fields of Sri Lanka. She must have suspected that Nanny was up to no good. But she hadn’t been willing to hurt the old woman’s feelings. She was tactful and funny and…

She was more than the sum of her good qualities.

Despite himself, Damon remembered the way Matty had felt in his arms as he’d carried her upstairs to her bedroom. He had tried to wake her. He’d had no desire to play Rhett Butler after all they’d been through getting to the cay. But Nanny had done her work well, and there had been no hope of Matty waking before morning. So he had lifted her in his arms, which had been easier than he’d expected, and carried her through the hallway with a satisfied Nanny trailing behind.

At the top of the steps he’d shooed Nanny away and taken Matty to her room. The room hadn’t been readied, as he’d requested. The windows had been closed all day, and the stale air was smothering. The linen was clean enough, but not fresh, and the bed was heaped with blankets. He’d been forced to prop Matty in a chaise longue while he opened the windows to allow the fresh sea breezes to chase away the heat and at least rattle the cobwebs that Nanny and Kevin had left in place like ghoulish welcome streamers.

He had folded the blankets, leaving just one at the foot of the bed, then pulled down the spread and the sheets. And at that moment, as he’d realized that he was ready to move her to the bed, he’d realized something else.

There was no one else on the island who could undress her. Either she was going to sleep in a bulky cotton sweater and thigh-hugging pants, or he was going to have to strip off her clothes.

She was about to become his wife, but he had stood there helplessly staring at her cuddled against the terry cloth of the chaise. And that was when he’d no longer been able to deny what he’d tried to ignore since spotting her at the gate.

Matty Stewart was an attractive woman, and he was not immune to her attractions. And he certainly hadn’t been immune last night when he undressed her.

Someone made a sound in the hallway outside Heidi’s room. He knew who that someone was. Matty hadn’t yet come downstairs, and he knew she was finally ready to risk seeing them all again. For a moment he considered calling to her and introducing her to his daughter here in Heidi’s room. But just as he opened his mouth, Heidi began to whimper. The baby’s patience was amazingly short, and she had already reached her limit. He grabbed the next item of clothing he touched before he straightened. He had done everything wrong yesterday, but today was going to be different. He would wait until Matty had eaten something and wait until Heidi was smiling again. He would introduce them to each other when they were both at their best. And then he would pray.

* * *

Matty couldn’t really blame Damon for not calling to her when she passed Heidi’s room. She had made enough noise to let him know she was there, but he hadn’t responded as she’d hoped. And how could he be faulted? He had brought Heidi to meet her last night, and she had fallen sound asleep without even looking at the baby. Despite everything he’d said to her this morning, she knew she was on trial. How could she not be? He was giving her time this morning to adjust, or so he said. But she suspected that he was giving himself time to reconsider, too.

At the bottom of the steps she looked around to see who might be lurking to make her feel even less sure of herself. Blessedly—if the silence was to be believed—both Nanny and Kevin seemed to be somewhere else. The island didn’t present a lot of possibilities, but she hoped they were outside taking advantage of the white sand beaches or the waves frothing happily at the shoreline. Anywhere except where they could aim their hostility at her before she had her first cup of coffee.

She started toward the kitchen, admiring the highly polished wood floors, the pastel walls and the exotic furnishings in every room in between. The house was exquisite, each room a little museum of fascinating antiques, of paintings and sculpture and fine porcelain. Light rushed in from every window, and the air sweeping through was heavy with the salt spray of the sea and the perfume of exotic flowers.

“Toto, we’re not in Minnesota anymore,” she whispered. For a moment everything she had suffered yesterday faded away, along with her insecurities. How could things not go well here? She pushed open the kitchen door with new resolve, only to find Nanny waiting for her.

“I made breakfast. You didn’t come, so I t’row it in the garbage.”

Matty considered a dozen rejoinders, some surprisingly un-Mattylike. “That’s too bad. I’m sure you went to a lot of trouble.”

“You always sleep so late?”

“No. I wonder why I slept so late this morning?” Matty let that hang between them for just a moment before she continued. “Do you suppose it’s the air?”

Nanny lifted her chin. “I never sleep so late. Same air.”

“Since I seem to be on a different schedule from everyone else, I’ll fix my own breakfast. Please don’t worry about me again.”

“I’m the cook.”

“And I’ll bet it keeps you busy. This will be one less job you’ll have to worry about.” Matty turned her back before the old woman could argue and went to the pantry. As she’d hoped, there was an assortment of cereal, all repackaged in glass jars. She chose what looked like cornflakes and brought the jar with her as she backed out. When she turned, she saw that Nanny had gone.

She sighed, half in relief, half in sympathy. She wished she knew exactly what to say to convince Nanny that she was no threat, but she supposed that time would make it clear.

Either Nanny would realize that she meant no harm or Damon would tell Matty he didn’t want to marry her after all. Either way, the relationship with Nanny would improve.

She found a coffeepot on the counter, and a good sniff indicated that it really was coffee, warmed too long and much too strong to start with, but coffee nevertheless. The smell made her homesick for the coffee in the nurses’ lounge at Carrollton, and she poured a mugful. She pulled down a bowl from a cupboard, found silverware and a carton of milk, and took them all to the table.

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