The Wrong Brother's Bride (20 page)

15

Loyal watched August’s chest rise and fall. One hand splayed across his flat stomach, the other tucked behind his head in place of the pillow that had slipped off the bed last night. Hands that had touched her with tenderness. Warmth spiraled through her at the memory. She longed to linger beside him, wait for him to wake up, except the baby was kicking. Besides, she had to check on Papa.

Rolling out of bed was becoming a difficult task. She’d always enjoyed quiet mornings and relished her chores before the rest of the world was awake. These days, she felt thick and slow. It would only increase as her pregnancy progressed, but in a few short months, she’d have a tiny person to share the mornings with.

August didn’t stir as she dressed, so she shut the door quietly and crossed the house. She rapped three times before she opened Papa’s door and poked her head in. He was sitting up in bed, arms folded over his chest and a frown on his face.

“Good morning,” she greeted, hoping he wasn’t as cranky as he looked.

“Bah.”

She thought about reminding him that this was her home and he could extend the courtesy she’d been expected to present in his. At the last second, she smiled instead. “I’m about to prepare breakfast. Would you like anything special?”

“A ride home.” Thick gray brows drew together in a scowl.

She gripped the doorframe, squeezing it hard to keep her temper at bay. “You don’t have a house anymore, Papa. We’re trying to make you as comfortable as possible. Thank God you still have your life.”

“I’m old, Loyal. I’ve lost everything important to me. My purpose in remaining on Earth is unclear.”

“Unclear to you. However, if you’d open your eyes you might realize I’d like my child to know his grandfather.” She sounded harsher than she meant to. He claimed he’d lost everything, but he was too stubborn to see she was still reaching out for him.

Papa looked out the window. “Where’s your layabout husband? Is he still in bed while you do the chores?”

“There’s no need for that kind of talk. You should rebuild your strength instead. You may have visitors once word about the parsonage spreads.” Loyal prayed for patience. Even August at his surliest wasn’t as bad as Papa.

“I’m easy enough to replace. Attendance has been dwindling for some time. If they rebuild the parsonage, it will be for a younger preacher. Perhaps a man with a family. Not an old man whose daughter foolishly involved herself with a pair of miscreants.”

She tried not to let his words hurt her. It seemed his faith had vanished with the parsonage’s destruction and his dour attitude toward her remained fixed. She shouldn’t have been surprised. “Don’t speak ill of August in his house. He’s not the man you remember. You’ll see.”

“I suppose he’s changed. You think August’s time away from the township made him a better man.” Papa’s disbelieving voice dampened her spirits.

“He makes me happy.” The words were out of her mouth before she realized she meant them.

“Jeremiah made you happy once.” His brown eyes pierced her. “It looks as though you’re content with anyone paying attention to you.”

Blinking back tears, she turned away. She’d never guessed he could be so cruel. If Papa stayed more than a few days, they’d all be in sour humors. Once he made up his mind, he seldom changed it.

“Excuse me. I have chores.”

She barely noticed when August came into the kitchen and told her he was riding out to the Stiles’s small homestead.

“Something wrong, Loyal?” he asked, concern wrinkling his brow.

She didn’t want to repeat what her father had said, so she shook her head and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I have a busy day planned.”

“I shouldn’t be too long if everything is okay down there.” He lifted his hat from the peg and settled it on his crown. “You’ll be alright here alone with Gideon?”

“I don’t have much choice. He’s in a mood this morning.” She scowled. “I’ll be outside most of the day. There’s plenty to do and he seems happy enough in his own company.”

“You could come with me,” August offered. “Wouldn’t take a few minutes to hitch the wagon.”

“No, I should stay in case he needs anything. Doc Roy said he shouldn’t move around much on his leg. It would be rude to leave him alone.” She glanced toward the closed door, dreading the moment August left.

“Don’t work too hard outside,” August told her. He leaned down and gave her a kiss. She wished she hadn’t risen before him and ruined her morning by having an argument with her father.

“Be careful,” she reminded him.

One corner of his mouth tilted up. He touched his hat brim and left for the barn.

Anxious to be outside the house, away from her father’s grim countenance, she took a basket and went to the garden.

It was late in the evening when August returned home. Although Loyal had tried to stay busy while the hours passed, she couldn’t help worrying that something had happened. Why else would he take so long on a short ride? With the return of sunny skies, the fields were drying and she imagined he’d want to ready the plow to get the next corn crop into the ground.

She waited impatiently while he untacked his horse and turned it out with the others. Short-tempered from listening to her father complain all day, she resented the few seconds August took to pat Sorry’s head. Papa hadn’t failed to notice August’s absence either. He’d commented on fallow fields as though he was an expert on the subject.

August carried a bulky package with him and she realized he’d been to town without consulting her. Her agitation doubled.

“You were gone a long time.” She tried to hide her annoyance.

“I know. Far longer than I planned. I have some good news that might make up for it.”

“Heaven knows we could use some,” she grumbled.

“Don’t be sore.” He held up the package. “We’re not going to save much from your father’s house. I figured he could use some things. Clothes, a shaving kit, a new bible. I know it’s not as good as the one he lost. People are finical about their good books, but it’s better than nothing.”

Her ire vanished, replaced by a smile. She hadn’t even thought about whether Papa needed anything other than a place where he could recover. “You did that for him?”

August looked embarrassed. “Mrs. Stiles thought of it first. Since I was already out, there wasn’t much need in putting it off. You said you didn’t want to leave him alone anyhow.”

“It’s kind of you. I’m sorry I was cross.” Once again, he’d surprised her. She hoped the bible would bring Papa some comfort, even though it wasn’t the one he’d carried for years.

August hung his hat and stepped out of his boots. For a moment, he touched Jeremiah’s hat, long fingers lingering on the felt. The cloudy look on his face vanished, replaced with a smile.

“There’s more news, something I’d like to discuss with your father. Is he awake?”

“I’m sure he is. It doesn’t seem like he’s resting much.” She walked beside him, letting their hands brush. She’d missed him. He breathed new life into the house when he returned.

He paused, and gave her another crooked smile. Her heart fluttered. Hopeful that August’s good news would brighten Papa’s mood, she stretched up and pressed her lips to his.

“I’m glad you’re home safe,” she murmured. “I worried.”

“I tried to make the trip short. People had questions about whether Gideon was alright and what would happen to the church. I think I’ve found the solution. Come on.” August knocked on the door and opened it. “Gideon? Can I have a word with you?”

“What do you want?” Still in his rumpled shirt, with his gray hair mussed, Papa glared at August. “Come to throw me out of your house?”

August’s jaw tightened. “No, sir. I went to town today and brought a few things back for you.”

“Why?” Papa demanded.

“Christian duty,” August answered dryly. He offered the package and Papa took it with reluctance. “Mrs. Hooper found out that most of your congregation weathered the storm. They’ve already heard about what happened and they’re collecting money to build another parsonage.”

“So they can replace me with some other young fella. Get new blood into the church.” Papa picked at the strings holding the brown paper shut. “They don’t need me.”

Loyal put her hands into her apron pockets, hiding her clenched fists. “Is it true, August?”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I heard. In the morning some men are getting their wagons together to cart the rubble away. Probably won’t be more than a month or two before you’re settled in again.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide. More than a month with Papa here? They’d all go mad.

Papa was busy examining the bible August had purchased. “What’s this?”

It was clearly labeled, a fine copy with a leather cover. She wondered if the head wound might have him a bit confused. “Isn’t it nice? You can keep writing sermons and reading while you wait for the house.”

“Nice,” Papa repeated. “It’s just a book. It’s nothing without the names and dates of your lineage, Loyal. Generations lost because of a rain storm.”

He looked so exhausted she didn’t even feel rebuffed by his words. “You remember yours well enough. And Mama’s. You can add the day August and I married. The day the baby is born. We’ll go forward, Papa.”

“Forward, bah. The date you married
him
. And your offspring’s birthday.” He dropped the bible on the quilt and crossed his arms, ignoring the clothes August had provided.

Angry tears blurred Loyal’s vision. She put her hands over her stomach, ignoring the piercing pain around her heart. “You don’t have to be unpleasant. We’ve taken you in, and August got the bible in hopes it would comfort you. He can’t be expected to crawl back into the wreckage and retrieve the old one.”

August put his hand on her shoulder. “Loyal, why don’t you work on your sewing while me and Gideon have a talk.”

His face was strained, although his tone was pacifying. She knew he was attempting to keep the peace, which only made her angrier.

“I don’t want to work on sewing! We’re settling this.” She faced her father again. “Papa, apologize to August for every ugly thing you’ve ever said about him. Accept his generosity, because it was his idea to check on you, he pulled you from the house, and he went to town for you. It could be weeks before you have anywhere else to go. We can’t carry on fighting.”

Papa sat without looking at her, sullen as a child.

August squeezed her shoulder. “You’re riled, sweetheart. Why don’t you make some coffee while we talk? I promise to make this right.”

She hesitated. What August thought he could do on his own was a mystery. She had every intention of listening outside the door. “Very well.”

* * * *

August watched Loyal leave, although he knew she wouldn’t go far. He stood at the foot of the bed. Could he and Gideon really settle anything? Patience was hard won, a fault the old man had never failed to point out before.

“It troubles me when she’s angry, afraid, or hurt. I imagine you feel the same. Or at one time, you did.” August chose his words with care, afraid of revealing too much with Loyal listening. “I guess it’s hard to see someone you love make difficult choices. You know what you’d do, and you hope they’ll follow a path like yours. It was a good one, wasn’t it? Mrs. Redfearn, she was a kind lady. I see a lot of her in Loyal.”

Gideon glanced at him, then looked away. “Don’t speak about my wife.”

“She helped us when she could. If Pa was away, which was more often than not, she’d bring us bread and apologize because it wasn’t enough. It was more than we expected. I guess you looked the other way, or she’d have stopped. It was a shame when she died.”

“Leave Elizabeth out of this.” Gideon bunched the quilt in his hands.

August continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “The day I came home, after Loyal wrote, I didn’t see myself walking into a marriage. I didn’t expect Loyal at all. Jeremiah was dead, the farm could fail because I didn’t know what to do and maybe a little piece of me wanted that to happen, because everyone expected it. Then Loyal told me she was with child.” He recalled his reaction to the news and paused. It was a wonder Loyal hadn’t told him to leave. “A man like me, I don’t know anything about caring for a family, much less the other responsibilities Jeremiah left.”

Gideon huffed, but didn’t respond.

“I could have run, left her here to make her own way while the bank took the farm. Would’ve been easy.”

The preacher looked at him, disgust darkening his face.

August moved closer to the bed. “I could have been the man everyone expected, but she needed someone. Jeremiah’s gone, and you threw her out. So that someone had to be me. I don’t care if you don’t approve, because I love her, Gideon. You recognized it yesterday and it’s true. If your house had been on fire, I’d have walked in—for Loyal.” August squared his shoulders. “If she’s happy, you should be happy. You think you’ve lost everything. For a preacher, you’re pretty damn nearsighted.” Aware his voice had risen, he listened for sounds from Loyal outside the door, but didn’t hear any. Gideon crossed his arms and stared out the window. It was the same as talking to a rock.

August ran his hand through his hair. “You don’t have to accept the way things are. Fine. I do expect you to be civil to your daughter. My wife.”