The Convict and the Cattleman by Allison Merritt

Olivia stirring. Her charge was ready to begin the day.
    Jonah sat at the breakfast table, eating a fried egg with surgical precision. He glanced up at Bridgit’s entrance and returned to his meal.
    “Good morning, sir.”
    “Morning,” he answered.
    He seemed fascinated with his breakfast.
    “Is Martha out feeding the jackaroos?”
    His eyes stayed trained on the eggs. “She didn’t come today. Millicent’s here instead.”
    “Millicent?”
    Jonah lifted his teacup. “Her daughter.”
    Bridgit frowned. “I wasn’t aware she had a daughter. Did she say Martha is feeling poorly?”
    He shrugged and speared a slice of ham. “One can never tell with Martha. Millicent is a fair cook. Unless Martha finds someone to marry the poor girl, Millicent will end up employed here.”
    “Are you angry, Jonah?”
    At the sound of his name, he looked up, giving her his full attention. “Angry?”
    “Aye. You seem tense.”
    A faint smile flitted across his face. “Martha has long tried to persuade me to marry Millicent. I expect this is a ploy to put the girl in my good graces.”
    “You don’t fancy her?”
    His gaze ran over her. “You’ll understand when you meet her.”
    “I’m sure she’s a beautiful person on the inside.” A man with an empire at his fingertips could afford to be picky when it came to his bride, but people without the benefit of good looks deserved the same chances as everyone else.
    “That’s not quite what I mean. She’s only slightly better tempered than her mother. God rest her father’s soul. The man was a saint for putting up with Martha for thirty years.”
    Taking advantage of the moment, she sat across from him. “I enjoyed your company last night.”
    He choked, coughing until he’d cleared his windpipe. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he stared at her. “Not my usual breakfast conversation.”
    She wasn’t chastised by his tone, but smiled innocently. “Forgive me.”
    He caught her hand. “You’ve no qualms about being my lover?”
    Excitement raced through her body. She couldn’t speak. Wetting her lips, she shook her head.
    “Every move you make seems earnest, unplanned, but each of them makes me think of the way you writhed beneath me last night. I want to take you upstairs this second and undo each of those buttons.” His free hand lighted on the bottom most one, tracing the outer edge of it. Beneath her dress, her flesh pebbled with anticipation of his touch.
    “I have chores,” she whispered, nearly breathless.
    He raised her hand and kissed the back of it. “I won’t keep you.”
    He’d called her his lover, not a whore or harlot.
    She struggled to hold back her excitement. “It’s still Olivia first, mind you. What happens between us can’t interfere with my duties.”
    “You are her nurse. What goes on between us won’t interfere with her.”
    She smiled, dizzy with the prospect of making love with Jonah again. “Then I have a goat to milk and no time to tarry with my lover.”
     
    * * * *
     
    The nanny goat, a large specimen borrowed from Natty and Bess, wasn’t like any Bridgit had ever seen. Brown and black with large, droopy ears and a spectacular set of horns perched on her head, she bossed around the other animals. Even Rupert’s dog, Old Nell, wouldn’t approach the creature.
    This morning Nanny grazed beside one of Jonah’s colts. The nanny came and went as she pleased, slipping through the paddock rails with ease. The horse didn’t appear distressed by its presence, but Bridgit would’ve preferred the goat be anywhere except around the horses. Her knowledge of farm animals went as far as seeing them laid out in the butcher’s shop or sold at auctions. Farjana made catching and milking the creature look easy.
    “Come along, Nanny. We’ve got to get you milked and then you’re free to wander about as usual.”
    A bleat left its throat and the tail flipped a few times, but it otherwise ignored her. The horse's tail swished in vain at