The Wrong Brother's Bride (22 page)

August rubbed his eyes. The late summer heat, Gideon’s booming voice, and the rock-hard pew made an uncomfortable situation. He looked forward to getting home and eating the dinner Loyal had prepared yesterday evening. While he didn’t care for church, they both observed the Sabbath by finishing the big chores on Saturday or leaving them for Monday. The pot roast she’d set on the stove had started to fill the house with the fragrance of meat and spices early this morning.

“August O’Dell?”

He looked up when he heard his name, meeting the gaze of an elderly man with a bent back, leaning heavily on a cane. “Yes, sir.”

The man’s blue eyes were sharp and fierce. “You remember me?”

Should I?
“I’m afraid not. You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve been away.”

“It’s Albert Carroll.” He managed to straighten a few inches. His hair was dark gray, though it was apparent he wasn’t as old as he looked. The man had suffered a misfortune that aged him prematurely.

“Sir.” Unsure how to carry on with the conversation, August extended his hand.

Carroll turned his nose up at the gesture. “I was sure the day you set foot in a church, the place would burn down around our ears.”

Clearly, he’d wronged Carroll in the past. “You aren’t the only one who wondered.”

“The devil take you, O’Dell. While you’ve been away enjoying the fruits of your labors, I’ve struggled to repair the damages you did. I hope your ill-gained crops wither to dust, your wells dry, and your livestock suffer the plague.”

Taken aback, August stared at the man’s reddening face. “I’m not sure I understand why you’d say those things inside a church, Mr. Carroll. It’s possible we had an altercation, but I can’t recall it.”

“Altercation! You’re a damned thief. You ruined me.” He jabbed a gnarled finger into August’s chest. “Everything I had is gone because you stole from me. So I wish the same on you.”

“What is it I’m supposed to have taken?” He forced the words out as worry carved a hole in his gut.

“You’ll remember. I hope you think on it every second until you do. While you’re wondering, I hope life gives you the same miseries it’s given me.” Carroll pushed past him, muttering under his breath.

The other churchgoers who hadn’t yet gathered in the back looked at August as though he’d just wronged Carroll. They parted to let the crippled man pass. August clenched his fists, trying to quell the tremor running through him. Across the room, Loyal laughed and her friend touched her stomach, sharing a smile. Grateful she hadn’t heard, he mumbled a pardon as he moved through the small crowd. He needed fresh air and time alone to clear his head if he was going to figure out what Carroll’s accusation meant.

The church crowd dispersed slowly. August paid little attention. He sat atop the buckboard, waiting for his wife and father-in-law, tension building in his muscles as he sorted through memories from his youth. He couldn’t place Carroll in any of them.

Loyal walked next to Gideon as they came outside. For the first time in weeks, he looked happy. August stepped down from the wagon to help him up and then assist Loyal.

“You didn’t stay inside long,” she remarked.

“Too many people, too little space.” Most of them probably had reason to blame him for something.

“It’s nice to get out once in a while and see everyone. You’ll get used to it.” She patted his arm, giving him an encouraging smile.

If every Sunday went the way this one had, he wanted to stay secluded at the farm for the rest of his life. He understood it wasn’t easy for anyone to forgive him. Openly talking about his actions in church wouldn’t help him overcome his mistakes.

Loyal leaned close, putting her mouth near his ear. “You seem unhappy. What’s the matter?”

“I have a few things on my mind. It’s nothing to do with your father or the church.” That, at least, was the truth.

She smiled at him again. “We’ll be home soon. You’ll feel better with a full stomach.”

The way his stomach tightened, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to eat anything. August flicked the reins at the team and set them into motion toward home.

* * * *

Once August had the corn planted and another cutting of hay bundled into the barn for the winter, he helped with rebuilding the parsonage. In the beginning, the men seemed reluctant to accept him, but after a few days, they welcomed his help. The wreckage was cleared away and the frame went up quickly. Because Gideon was a single man, they’d elected to build the new parsonage smaller and in such a way it would be easy to add onto when Gideon retired and they found a new preacher with family.

After a few days, Albert Carroll’s accusations shifted out of August’s mind. If the old man really believed August had something to do with stealing from him, he’d have contacted Sheriff Fowler. Instead, August focused his attention on his wife and the new addition to their family.

It seemed to August that Loyal grew a little rounder every day, and the hot late summer weather caused her to tire easily. He let her sleep in most mornings, preparing breakfast for himself and Gideon. They didn’t speak much, but it seemed their heart-to-heart had solidified a truce. He wasn’t sure it would hold out forever, though he’d take what he could get.

When he wasn’t helping raise a house, August sanded and smoothed the cradle. Loyal didn’t venture to the barn much these days. So busy working on the finishing touches for the baby’s wardrobe, she seemed to have forgotten he’d promised to build the cradle. It was nearly finished, and he was waiting for the right time to present it.

* * * *

Loyal put her hand to her back as she straightened from the lowest drawer on the bureau in the spare room. “Papa, I must be losing my mind. I was certain I left those blankets for the baby’s cradle in here.”

He looked up from the bible on his lap. “I can’t say I noticed them there before. You’re sure they weren’t in your own bureau?”

The last few weeks, Papa had become more accepting when she talked about the baby, even admiring her handiwork with the needle on the embroidery she’d stitched for the gowns.

“I’m certain. That one is full of August’s socks and underdrawers.” She blushed when the words slipped form her mouth. He didn’t want to hear about her husband’s unmentionables.

“Come sit a while, Loyal. You look peaked.” Papa patted the seat beside him.

“I can’t. There’s a cake in the oven I need to check and I have strawberries to pick.” She rubbed the small of her back, dreading bending over the bushes.

He looked at her over the rim of the spectacles he used for reading. “I’m sure your cake will taste fine without strawberries.”

She smiled. “It’s August’s birthday. I’m making him a special cake. He’s seemed distracted lately and I thought it might cheer him.”

Secretly she worried he didn’t find her attractive anymore. Once she’d entered the seventh month of pregnancy, she’d given up the blouses, skirts and dresses she’d worn when he first came home. They no longer fit right. She’d made two new dresses with a bigger girth. Lovemaking became increasingly difficult as her waist expanded. August was sweet about it when she was tired, and he took on more chores to make life easier for her. His temperament hadn’t changed, but he spent more and more time in the barn, or working on the new parsonage.

For his thirty-first birthday, she planned a nice dinner with a cake. She hadn’t done anything arduous today, hoping she would have the energy to make love with her husband tonight. Hoping he would want to make love.

“His birthday, eh? By all means, the man of the house ought to have strawberries for his cake.” Gideon rose from the sofa. He’d stopped using his crutches a week ago, walking with only the smallest limp now. “I’ll start picking while you tend the cake.”

Loyal smiled. His offer to do something for August made her heart sing. “Thank you, Papa.”

He approached her. “I’m only doing it because I hope you’ll treat an old man with similar love on his birthday.”

“Of course I will.” She placed a kiss on his smooth-shaven cheek. “We’ll have to hurry. He might come home any time. I think he said they’re getting the roof on your house this week. The windows and doors will be installed next.”

He nodded, his gaze far away. “We can look at it this Sunday. I’ve been fortunate that my parishioners are so generous.”

“You’re a good leader,” she assured him. “A wise man who guides them through trouble and strife. They’re fortunate to have you.”

Papa shook his head. “Bah. They tolerate me and my ramblings. Best we should hurry, before August arrives.”

It warmed her heart, the way he offered his help. The men in her life seemed to tolerate one another most days, though they still snipped and glared now and then. Papa’s helping hand was another step toward showing he was beginning to accept her marriage. A relieved sigh left her as she went to check the cake.

Loyal carried the platter of roasted chicken to the table. Potatoes, carrots, green beans, hot biscuits, and a tureen of gravy completed her menu for the night in addition to the cake with strawberries and cream. She lit candles, placing them around the kitchen for a soft glow that accented the evening light coming through the windows.

“You set a table well, my dear.” Papa stood in the kitchen doorway, a faint smile on his lips. “I just saw August turn his horse out. Are you ready?”

“As soon as I check my hair. With the humidity, I feel as though it’s wild as a bush.” She tried to pat it back into the knot she’d created earlier, wondering if she had time to braid and put it up.

“You look fine. He won’t notice such a trifling thing as your hair when your face is bearing a smile.”

“You’re too sweet, Papa. Go ahead and sit down if you like. I want to meet him at the door.”

“Don’t dally. I want to eat before this fine meal gets cold.” He gave her a mock stern frown. “No sense wasting good food the lord gave us.”

She waved him away and removed her apron, hanging it on a peg near the back door. Loyal smoothed wrinkles from her blue gingham dress as she made her way across the house. Through the screen, she saw August with Sorry at his heels as usual.

He must have felt her gaze, because he looked up from the path. “Something wrong?”

That was his question more often than not when he came in from working. He seemed to grow more anxious as the end of her pregnancy drew closer.

“No, I wanted to meet you. Supper is ready when you are.” She saw dampness darkening his sleeves and collar. He never failed to clean up before he came in. August opened the screen door and lowered his head to kiss her. Warmth surged through Loyal’s veins. She might be sluggish about her chores and sometimes so tired she fell asleep immediately following supper, but August’s kisses cleared her mind.

“Something smells good,” he murmured when he pulled back. “I’m not sure if it’s you or your cooking.”

She smiled. “You’ll have the opportunity to sample both.”

He laughed softly. “I look forward to it.” Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, he steered her toward the kitchen. “I’m afraid my grumbling stomach takes precedence at the moment.”

“Papa’s waiting. He’d be suspicious if we deviated to the bedroom,” she teased. “Wait. Someone wants to say ‘happy birthday.’”

She took his hand and guided it to her stomach, where the baby moved with enthusiasm. August’s smile returned as a hand or foot met his palm.

“So strong.” His voice was filled with awe as he met her gaze. “You remembered. I thought I might get away without hearing it.”

“Of course I remembered. I even have a surprise for you.” She tugged at his hand. “Come on, before Papa eats without us.”

A half-hour later August’s birthday dinner had mostly vanished. Chicken bones were piled on the platter, the dishes containing the sides were empty save for juices and melted butter, and only the thinnest cake sliver remained in the pan.

“I’ll have to work twice as hard tomorrow if I’m going to keep wearing the same clothes, sweetheart.” August put his hand over hers, caressing the back with his thumb. “This is one on the finest birthdays I can remember.”

Her smile faltered. He couldn’t have had many good ones. “I hope everything was alright.”

“More than alright. You did real good.” He sat up a little straighter. “I have something for you, though, if you’re of a mind to see it.”

Her curiosity sparked. “What is it?”

He glanced at Papa. “I wouldn’t want to outshine this fine meal. Perhaps I should wait to show it to her.”

Papa looked as curious as she felt. “You could, but there’s no guarantee of tomorrows, August.”

August gave her another charming half-smile. “I suppose there’s truth in that. Wait here.”

She watched him exit through the backdoor, in the direction of the barn. “What do you think he’s doing?”

“No telling, Loyal. Patience is a virtue. We’ll know soon enough.” Papa stood and refilled his coffee mug. “Can I get you anything?”

“I couldn’t eat another bite. I should clear away these dishes.” She placed her silverware on her plate, reaching for August’s as well. A big dinner meant more to clean up, but he looked so pleased by her efforts, she felt the trouble was worth it. “Do you mind blowing out the candles and lighting the lamps?”