From what Amanda had told her, Catherine's childhood had been anything but happy. Surely Sam was aware of that. Yet he was willing to allow his wife's parents to raise his children.
This was her last trump card. If she couldn't appeal to his guilt, then she had nothing left.
"Do you truly believe your wife will rest in peace knowing her children are so far away? That they will be growing up in Boston?"
He didn't answer immediately. He was thinking. That was good.
"I ..."
"Don't you think she'd want them to be with you instead of with their grandparents?"
"Well ... sure. But I don't have any way to look after them. They need a woman."
Emma's gaze met with Sam's, and again, she saw the pain behind his tough exterior.
"Yes," she agreed, her gaze still on his dark-as-coal-eyes. Her heart began to flutter irregularly. Mercy! "They do," she murmured when she could finally speak.
"Wait a minute!" he blustered. "I'm not about to get married again. Hell, I'm not ready to think about another woman in that way. In fact, I don't think I'll ever be ready."
"What about a marriage of convenience?"
"A what?"
"A marriage in name only. Two people who marry for mutual benefit, without any romantic notions."
"What woman in her right mind would ever agree to something like that?"
"I would."
Chapter 3
Sam couldn't believe his ears. The woman was actually offering to marry him just so he wouldn't put his own children on the train.
She was loco. That was it. The woman was plain crazed. What other reason could there be for a woman to up and marry a stranger for the sake of three young'uns she hardly knew?
Fred hadn't said anything about that, though. In fact, he'd been singing her praises ever since Sam had brought the children home. Surely he would have mentioned it if she wasn't right in the head.
She was staring up at him, her eyes wide. Nice eyes, he thought. Blue, the color of the bluebonnets in the pasture, and ringed by long lashes. He hadn't noticed before, but she was downright pretty. Not the kind of beauty and elegance Catherine had, but still, she had an appealing face. Creamy skin with a few freckles scattered across a small upturned nose. Full lips that he'd already seen pursed in anger as well as parted in a smile for his children.
The rest of her was put together in all the right proportions, too, he noticed, running his gaze down her length.
"Well?" she asked, drawing his attention back to the matter at hand. "Do I meet with your approval?"
Sam flushed. What the hell had gotten into him, staring at her like she was one of the soiled doves at Fulton's Female Emporium? He looked away, unable to meet her accusing gaze.
"I ..."
"I assume that's why you were examining me like a horse you were planning to purchase?"
"I wasn't examining--"
The train conductor's voice pierced the air. "All aboard!"
"I have to go, Miss Witherspoon. The children are going to miss the train."
"I certainly hope so."
"Look--"