Wait. Opening his eyes more fully, Mitch frowned at Victoria. A warm, rose-colored gown? It was flattering on her, but that wasn’t the gown she’d been wearing when he’d dropped off to sleep.
Did she think that afternoon dresses were necessary even on the train? Had she continued the old-fashioned habit of wearing certain attire depending on the time of day?
His frown deepened as his gaze expanded beyond her. The sun chose that moment to tuck itself behind a rolling hill, and he could see more easily the woman who’d been eclipsing the burnished rays of early evening.
That young mother across the aisle wore a dark green outfit. Even now, she sat preening herself, smoothing some imaginary wrinkle or untucking an errant line of lace.
He straightened. Was she wearing Victoria’s fine clothes?
Fully awake, Mitch stared. Not only was the woman wearing Victoria’s dress, but she was also wearing her excessively fancy bonnet, too. What on earth was going on?
Mary chose that moment to pull up on some of the strings and the knots tightened around Ralph’s fingers. They all laughed and Victoria cried, “You’ve made the soldier’s bed! But where is the soldier?”
“He’s shooting the bad men,” Ralph yelled out.
Victoria laughed and hugged him. He looked up at her, his youthful eyes wide with innocent curiosity. “Miss Templeton, are you going to be our new mommy?”
Even the two older boys froze. Immediately, Victoria’s gaze shot from Ralph to slam into Mitch’s. She swallowed hard. Though he’d seen her horrified when she’d held Emily for the first time, this instance topped that occasion.
Her lips parted, and her cheeks flushed. She looked totally and quite attractively lost. Quickly composing herself, she cleared her throat. “Now, look what we’ve done. We’ve woken your father.”
“No. I awoke a short time ago.”
“Daddy, Miss Templeton—”
“Shush yah, Ralph,” Victoria chided, and Mitch heard her Boston accent clearly in her words. “The train isn’t the place to ask those questions.”
Mitch unfolded his arms. “That’s right, Ralph. We will discuss this when we get to the ranch. Now is the time for more important things.” He rolled his gaze over to Victoria. “Like asking Miss Templeton about her new gown.”
Automatically, Victoria shot a look across the aisle at the woman, who, satisfied her outfit was perfect, chose to watch the passing scenery. Victoria turned back to Mitch. He leaned forward. “And why is that young lady across the aisle wearing your old one?”
Her color deepened. “Please don’t make a fuss. I can explain.”
As he leaned back, Mitch loosened his tie. He must have been dog-tired to fall asleep with that thing strangling him. “You don’t have to answer to me, Victoria. May I call you that? I didn’t buy the gown for you. I was merely curious as to why you switched.”
“We didn’t switch. I gave my outfit to her,” she said. “In a manner of speaking.”
“Really? I’m interested in hearing the details.”
“While you were sleeping, Emily fussed again. I think she had an upset stomach. I asked the porter to warm more milk for her, but she obviously needed something better.”
“Yes, the milk makes her fussy. The doctor said it’s because it’s so rich and that she needs to get used to it.”
Victoria looked dubious and lowered her voice. “The young mother told me that nursing is better. Then she said she’d do anything for an outfit like mine. By the way, it’s an outfit, not a gown.”
Mitch felt his eyes widen. “So you just gave it to her?”
“Allow me to finish.” Victoria huffed. “I purchased the woman’s services for the duration of this trip. She will nurse Emily and change her if I am unavailable. And I must say that since she took over those duties, the baby has slept like a...well, a baby!”
He couldn’t believe his ears. “You sold your outfit for milk? I would say that she got the better end of that bargain.”
“I don’t believe so.”
Mitch gaped at her. Was the simple task of caring for a child that distasteful?
Simple task? He halted his internal grumblings. Since returning to Boston and discovering that Agnes had died in childbirth, he’d been awake several times each and every night. The baby’s reasons were obvious, but the children’s crying had hurt more, especially that of Mary, who seemed prone to night terrors.
No. He would not call caring for children a simple task.
Nor was it one to trade off for a scrap of material.
He folded his arms. “Was your job that distasteful?”
“No, but I now have a child in my care who isn’t fussy. And you don’t have to purchase milk at every stop, thus saving you money.”
Mitch leaned back. He hadn’t thought of that. It was certainly a consideration. They had only about twenty minutes at each stop, and in that time, Mitch would have to find a store that sold both this new-fangled baby’s milk, plus some food for four children and two adults.
Victoria lifted her brows knowingly. “And you won’t have to tip that porter as much at the end of this trip.”
After starting a new game with Mary holding the string and Ralph trying his skill, Victoria added, “I’ve saved you time, money and aggravation.”
“But I certainly cannot pay to replace that outfit for you.”
“You don’t need to, Mitchell.” She sniffed. “May I call you that?”
He nodded. He preferred Mitch, but Mitchell seemed more akin to Victoria’s personality.
“You can give me the money you were going to spend on milk and the tips for warming it.”
“It still won’t cover the cost of that outfit.”
“I have others.” She leaned back against the padded backrest of the seat and sighed, her attention turning to the children.
The conversation was over. Annoyed for some reason, Mitch worked his jaw. While he was asleep, Victoria had transformed from a horrified socialite to a canny businesswoman, and yet, right now, she was leaning back as if she was sitting in luxury beyond measure, all the while doting on his children.
This proved once again that he was better off single. Women were too fickle. Who would consider these seats that pleasurable? Even the woman across the aisle didn’t think so. The bustle of the green outfit prevented her from sitting back and she sat so rigidly, she could have been sealed in concrete. Victoria appeared not to be bothering any longer with her usual perfect posture.
Who could figure out women? Not he.
* * *
Victoria’s mother would have died of pure horror if she’d known what her daughter was doing this very minute. Corset-less, she was slouching back in a seat in second class like a coquette in a canteen.
Victoria nearly gasped out loud. Had she actually thought those words?
Mitchell was still frowning at her. “Perhaps this situation is my fault. I should have asked you first if you liked children.”
She