The Wrong Brother's Bride (7 page)

“You did the best you could. No one could’ve tried harder. If I’d been here alone, I couldn’t have helped her. She’d have kicked me or gotten up, and I would have been useless.” Loyal drew a bucket of water and held it while he washed. The truth of her words sank in. It was difficult knowing she wasn’t much use on the farm.

August shook his head. “You’d have gone for a neighbor without waiting. Molly would have been fine. No one would’ve had you holding her down. It was risky.”

“I was safe with you.” The bucket shook in her hands. “I wasn’t afraid, except for the horse’s life.”

He wiped his hands on his trousers. “She’s calm, which made it easier. Jeremiah did a good job training her.”

A knot formed in her throat. Lucky for the mare, August had known what to do. She couldn’t fault him for waiting and hoping the foal would emerge on its own if he was right about how they were born. He had recognized Molly’s problem and corrected it as soon as he was certain she needed him.

“He let me spend time talking to her and grooming her. She’s more my horse than his. I haven’t ridden much in years, so it didn’t matter that she couldn’t have a saddle on her back.”

“I might have guessed, given how often you sneak treats to her.” He flashed a smile that made her heart jump.

“Not every day.” She blushed under his intense stare. “Only most days.”

“Let’s go back and see how she’s doing.” August took the bucket from her and dumped it. “If we’re quiet, she’ll feel more relaxed. It’ll happen sooner if she isn’t worrying about outside distractions.”

“How do you know so much about horses?”

“We used mostly geldings to pull the log sleighs and wagons. I worked in a livery during the winters. Mares in foal are sometimes traded in for a more useful horse. We had a few colts born right before I’d go back to the logging camp. You pick up things if you watch close enough.” He rolled his shirtsleeve down and fastened the buttons. “I should have asked if you were alright.”

She waved his concern away. “Of course I am. I saw plenty of lambing the last few years.”

“You make a good assistant.” The praise was a little gruff, but it made her smile.

“Thank you.”

He rubbed his neck, fidgeting like a boy who didn’t know what to say. Loyal had stopped thinking of him as a boy the first time he’d gotten arrested. She couldn’t recall ever seeing him act shy.

His eyes raked over her stomach again. “Promise you’ll be careful around her until the baby is born. We’ll give her a few days inside without the other horses around so she can care for her foal before we put her in the pasture. I’ll turn her out from now on. The horses are big and they might not mean to hurt you, but sometimes it happens.”

His demeanor surprised her. Fancy that. August O’Dell caring for someone else’s well-being.

“Molly wouldn’t hurt me on purpose.”

“She might on accident.” He adjusted the angle of his hat, even though it was dark and he hardly needed it to keep the sun from his eyes. Maybe righting the foal’s leg had shaken him. Loyal reached out, lacing her fingers between his. A few water droplets still clung to his hand. The pads of his fingers and palm were roughened from work. They were warm and shaped differently than his brother’s. The bones were prominent and delicate despite his stature.

He squeezed her fingers, clearly caught off guard by her action. When she wriggled her hand, his grip loosened. She didn’t let go. His touch was comforting. She’d missed holding hands with another person.

“Thank you for caring.”

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. She pushed a loose strand of hair from her face, sure he’d found an imperfection to dwell on. Unsure why she bothered—it wasn’t as though they’d married for the other’s good looks, although he wasn’t hard on the eyes—she forced herself to maintain eye contact. They were stuck together for the duration, even if he developed a hunchback and she lost every hair on her head. The thought made her laugh.

“Seems I’ve missed the joke.” August didn’t pull away as he spoke. He stared, steady as a stone fence, waiting for her explanation.

“I thought about how we’d look in a few years. You have a hump and I don’t have any hair. It’s silly.” She fought a smile. “We’re missing Molly’s moment.”

He tugged her hand, moving toward the barn again. “Must be all those books you read as a girl. You have unusual ideas. I suppose that’s better than when you laughed at my proposal.”

“Oh, August. I didn’t mean anything by it. You surprised me. Those were the last words I ever thought I’d hear pass between your lips.” Realizing she was digging a deeper hole, she clamped her mouth shut.

“I suppose everyone had me pegged for an outlaw. Maybe they’d recognize me on a
Wanted
poster one day.” Bitterness made his voice hard, the lines on his face deeper.

Sympathy welled in Loyal’s chest. “I’m sorry. Truthfully, I don’t think anyone’s given you much thought since about six months after you left. Except me and Jeremiah.”

He glanced at her then stared straight ahead. “You thought about me?”

“Of course. Jeremiah spoke about you so often you were almost here with us.” She looked through the barn doors. Sorry waited for them, thumping his tail on the ground. “Molly’s still lying down. You don’t think…”

“I hate to bring the veterinarian out tonight.” A fresh frown darkened his features. He slipped his hand free and put his arm out to keep her from getting too close to the stall. His precaution wasn’t necessary. She hated seeing Molly in pain. Her heart would break if Molly died giving birth.

“You can look. She’s doing fine.” August’s voice was low and gentle, threaded with a touch of awe.

She took a breath to ease the tightness around her heart and looked over the stall door. The foal’s shoulders were out. It had dark legs, a tawny body, and a smudged star across its damp forehead. Molly gave a grunt and tucked her front legs beneath her, struggled to her feet and the foal slipped free.

For a brief moment, the mare looked at them, blinking her big brown eyes. She turned to her foal and licked its wet coat. A deep whicker left her throat. The foal’s oversized ears flicked and it lifted its head, looking dazed.

“She’s telling him to get up,” August whispered.

Tears blurred Loyal’s vision. She dabbed her eyes and when she hung her hand at her side again, August took it. He didn’t twine their fingers together, just engulfed her hand in his. Loyal looked away from the horses, surprised by his touch.

August met her gaze and smiled. Her mouth went dry as she realized how handsome he looked with straw clinging to his clothes and excitement in his expression. If she had to share this moment with anyone, she was glad it was him.

The foal made a clumsy attempt to rise. Molly’s tender ministrations made it lose its balance.

Loyal leaned close to August. “Should you help him?”

“He’ll get it.” Said with confidence. “They walk right away. It’s instinct.”

It took the newborn three more tries before it had all four legs beneath it. They were splayed wide, but Molly nickered with pride and continued to administer its bath.

“Can you see if it’s a colt or a filly?” The foal was angled away from her and its tail flipped so fast, she couldn’t tell the gender. It wobbled toward Molly’s flank without alleviating Loyal’s curiosity.

“We’d best wait until she’s less nervous,” he advised.

She looked down and realized he still held her hand. Warmth flowed through her. In a special moment they’d shared, he had reached out for her.

“Alright. In the morning?”

“We can try. Hungry little fella.”

The foal found Molly’s teat and its tail worked faster as it drank.

August looked at her. “Let’s go back to the house. She won’t need us anymore tonight.” His hand fell away and loss tugged at her heart. She wouldn’t have minded holding his hand on the way up the path. Struggling for the reason she felt that way, she exited the barn before him and patted Sorry’s head, snapping her fingers, signaling for him to follow along. Strange that she’d spent a portion of her wedding night watching a foal come into the world when the reason for her marriage was to provide for her child. Hand over her stomach, she paused on the path.

“Loyal?”

August’s voice washed over her. She could have pretended he was Jeremiah, turned, and claimed a kiss. It would probably shock him more than a punch on the nose. Tonight she should have been curled next to a man she loved and trusted. But soon she’d be tucked into bed alone except for her thoughts.

“Waiting for you.” She smiled and it felt like her face would crack. With the darkness, he probably couldn’t see it anyway. Or the loss she felt.

“Go on in. I think I’ll sit on the porch a while.”

He had to be as exhausted as she was. She wondered if there were things he needed to think through before coming inside.

“Good night.” A proper wife might kiss her husband on the cheek at least. She didn’t feel ready for that. So far they’d developed a friendly relationship. Best not to rush into anything.

“Thanks for your help. I couldn’t have saved the foal without you.”

Under the stars, she made out his face. The line of his cheek, the crook in his nose, and familiar stubborn chin. The slightest curve of his lips. The same set she’d avoided kissing earlier in the day. For a moment she allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to kiss him fully. A pang struck her heart. Although she was a new bride, she’d lost her first love. Her feelings were confused because they’d worked together to help Molly.

“My pleasure.” She winced at her words. There hadn’t been anything pleasant about the task, at least not until the foal was up. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“’Night, Loyal.”

She sucked a breath through her teeth and turned away without saying anything else.

6

Loyal had been awake for an hour before daylight, though she hadn’t summoned the energy to rise. Nearly four months into her pregnancy, she still suffered stomach-twisting morning sickness. August would need a hearty meal before he began working. She couldn’t lie in bed while he labored with the crops.

The faint scent of coffee crept under the crack beneath the door. Dizziness washed over her and she lay back against her pillow. Getting dressed and going into the kitchen seemed impossible.

Behind the door, the tin coffee percolator clanked against the stovetop. August’s heavy footsteps carried him across the room, each one pounding into her head like a nail. A few minutes more with her eyes closed to stop the room from spinning and she’d be fine. He probably didn’t have the faintest idea about cooking. Yes, she could tolerate frying meat and eggs. Never mind those running yellow yolks spreading across a grease-covered pan. She blocked the image from her mind. She kept a night jar near the bed. Neither getting up nor using it appealed to her. If August heard, she’d never be able to look him in the eye again.

He knocked on the door and she dragged a pillow over her face. There was no time to brush her hair or put on a dress. He opened the door without asking. “Loyal?”

“I’ll be up in a few minutes.” Or in the afternoon, if her stomach didn’t stop churning.

The pillow slipped away from her face and she cracked an eye.

August wore a frown that strained his features. “I made tea. It might help your stomach.” He bent low over the bed. “Sit up a little and tell me if it’s the right strength.”

“You’re being a gentleman.” She sat, more from surprise than because she wanted to try his brew.

“It’s been known to happen.” The frown was replaced with an amused smile. He lifted a teacup from a tray. His big hand almost swallowed the dainty china, but he presented it with all the care of a devoted servant. Or a husband showing genuine sympathy for his wife.

“How did you know?” she asked, accepting the cup. Steam wafted off the top of the dark liquid.

“Every day you’ve gotten up early. I didn’t think assisting Molly took that much out of you.” He held up a saltine. “The logging foreman’s wife was awfully sick for a while when she was in the family way.”

Loyal took the cracker and nibbled a corner. “I can’t believe you paid attention.”

“I thought it might come in useful one day. Seems I was right. I wouldn’t have entered, except I didn’t figure you’d answer the door.” August looked away.

Was he embarrassed by talking about babies and morning sickness, given it wasn’t his child?

She finished the cracker, then picked crumbs off her nightdress, dropping them on the saucer. “Why haven’t you married? Before me, I mean. There must be women in the bootheel.”

Something dark clouded August’s eyes. Hurt, loneliness, sadness. His jaw tightened, fingers flexed. “It was never the right moment. A logging camp isn’t much place for a woman. Few of them tolerate that life.”

Despite his restlessness, his voice was light. The young man he’d been was smothered by the new man. The one who brought tea and crackers to a pregnant woman. The one who worried he hadn’t done enough to save a foal. It could have been because of the price the foal would bring at the market, or the cost of the stud fee, although Loyal didn’t think that was it.