Bittersweet (28 page)

“C’mon, Laney Lou. Let’s go home.” Josh now stood less than a foot away.

Laney squared her shoulders and blinked back tears. “I’ll ride along behind you.”

“Ride in the wagon with Ruth. I’ll follow on Juniper.”

“You’re arguing with me?”

“Even if I agreed to let you ride, Ruth wouldn’t stand for it.”

A rakish smile tilted one corner of his mouth. “You know I’m right.” He took the reins from her.

When they reached the wagon, Ruth scooted over and Josh lifted Laney to sit by her. Ruth opened one side of her shawl as if to make half of a set of angel wings, but she patted something in her lap. “This is yours.”

Laney shuddered. Made of the finest cashmere, the caramel-and-beige shawl looked wonderfully warm and soft. She compressed her lips to tamp down a cry and merely shook her head.

“It’s from Josh and me. Mrs. O’Sullivan’s been keeping it for us so you wouldn’t find it.” Ruth let her own shawl slide down her back and wrapped Laney in the gift. “You’re half frozen! Josh, we need to get home.”

“The wagon’s not budging until you cover up, yourself.”

“Oh honestly.” Ruth huffed, yanked her shawl into place, and flicked the reins. “Laney, has your brother always been this bossy?”

“Ruthie?” Josh didn’t sound perturbed in the least.

“Now what?”

“You’re going to drive those poor horses crazy and get nowhere until you release the brake.”

Laney tried to smile.

Once they got underway, Ruth called out, “Josh, ride on ahead and ask Hilda to put on some tea. Your sister and I are both chilly.”

Josh rode off.

Ruth kept her focus on the horses. “Laney, I’m sure you’d want to know that Mrs. O’Sullivan—” “Please, Ruth, don’t say another word. I can’t bear it.”

The short ride back home remained painfully silent. Ruth halted the wagon by the kitchen door. Josh came out of the house and helped her down. As he set Laney on the veranda, he didn’t turn loose of her. “I want you to listen to me. It’s not right for you to visit the O’Sullivans.”

“I couldn’t”—she shuddered—“go over there. Not now. Not ever.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Y
ou young’uns need to get to bed.” Ivy stood just a few feet inside of the barn. The kerosene lantern gave off a white light that made her hair look like a dozen tangled spider webs.

“Awww,” Sean glanced at the lopsided stool he’d been building, then looked at Galen. “Do we have to?”

“Yeah, Galen.” Dale stopped banging a nail. “Can’t we stay up awhile?”

Colin didn’t stop whittling from his perch on a bale of hay.

“It’s Christmas.”

That’s a perfect excuse. I can make the boys happy and at the same time
I’ll be putting Ivy in her place
.

“It bein’ Christmas, that cain be yore gift to yore mama—obeyin’ her with a gladsome heart ’stead of draggin’ yore feet,” Ivy replied.

“Ma wants us to go to bed, or you do?” Belligerence tainted Sean’s voice.

“Since yore mama wants it, I do, too.”

“Ma sent you out here?” Colin’s eyes narrowed.

“Shore did. She cain’t very well come after you, what with her ankle all swoll up.”

“Go on in,” Galen told the boys. “Be sure you put your tools away first.”

A few short minutes later, the boys headed toward the house.

Ivy hadn’t budged an inch.

Galen turned his back on her and checked the latches on each stall so the horses would be secure through the night. He’d already finished his work here. Normally, he’d go on in and use the time to read from the Bible and pray with his family.

Tonight he didn’t want to go in. He’d spent the afternoon recalling each and every minute he’d spent with Laney. She’d been like a sunbeam—warm and gentle during some of the darkest days of his life.

“Mr. O’Sullivan.”

Ivy’s soft, twangy voice grated on his nerves. Galen thought about ignoring her. Instead, he wheeled around and glowered.

“I wanted to say thankee for letting my brother stay on.”

“That was Ma’s doing, not mine.”

As if he’d said nothing, Ivy went on, “I ain’t niver slept on a ’bove-the-ground bed. Thankee for carryin’ that cot inside.”

“Ma hurt herself trying to reach that cot for you.”

Ivy wrapped her arms around her ribs. “I reckoned ’twas so. I’m dreadful sorry, and I tole her so. Don’t you worry none, though. In a handful of days, she’ll be right as rain. Ain’t nothin’ gonna go undone whilst she’s laid up. I’ll do it all.”

Galen stared at her.
She might well be speaking the truth, but she lied
today and it cost me my sweet Laney. Now I’m stuck with this woman—her
hair a fright, her dress askew, her speech whiny
.

Unaware of his thoughts, Ivy tacked on, “In the church, I promised to holp you and yore kin. All you gotta do is say how.”

“The only help I want from you is a confession that you’ve lied and the child isn’t mine. This sham will be over, and you can go.” He dared to take a step closer. “You made a bad choice in using me as your mark. I don’t have money to pay you off.”

She wagged her head from side to side. “I ain’t a-lookin’ to get no money. Don’t wanna go noplace else.”

“Well, I don’t want you here. I don’t want you.”

Ivy hitched her right shoulder. “Pa didn’t want me, neither.

Didn’t keep me from cooking for him and tendin’ his rheumatiz. You’ll see—I’m useful.”

“If I wanted a useful woman, I’d hire a maid or a cook!”

“You jist said you got no money.” She shivered.

Galen scowled. “You don’t have the sense God gave a flea. Even Dale knew to put on a jacket.”

“That Dale—he’s a smart one.” She bobbed her head. “Then thar’s Sean—full of life. And Colin—pert near a man now.”

“My brothers are none of your concern.”

“Thar my kin now.”

“Saying something doesn’t make it a fact. You can talk all you want, but I won’t agree with a liar.”

“Yore hungry.”

He made no reply. Talking to Ivy was impossible. If she didn’t like what was said, she ignored it or changed the subject. It didn’t matter that she was right about his brothers or right about his being hungry. He’d refused to sit at the supper table and eat the Christmas meal the McCains brought. He had no appetite, and he certainly didn’t want to share his table with Ivy and Ishmael.

“When yore of a mind to come on in, I set food in that warmin’ box atop yore mama’s stove.”

“I’m not coming in.” He stared at her.

The ponderous
clop-clop-clop
of a weary beast drifted into the barn. A moment later, Ishmael led his mule inside. “Brung ev’rythang, Boss.” A mere breath later, Ishmael’s expression changed. “Didn’t know you was here, sis.”

“She’s going inside. Now.”

“I got your bed set up in the tack room, jist like you tole me to.”

Ivy’s brows knit, and she turned to Galen. “You moved yore bed out here to the tack room?”

Color suddenly flooded Ishmael’s face. He looked back and forth from Ivy to Galen. “Sorry. Didn’t realize. It’s yore weddin’ night. ’Course the both of you wanted privacy,” he mumbled to his boots.

“Never.” Galen folded his arms across his chest. “As soon as your sister identifies the father of her child, she can go to
him
.”

“Sis ain’t goin’ nowhar. Best you know that.” Ishmael shoved the mule’s nuzzle away when the animal began to seek affection.

“You spoke your vows.”

“I vowed to provide for her and the child. If it means I scrape up money each month and send it to wherever she and her lover are, I’ll do it.”

Ivy leapt between them and wound her arms tightly around Ishmael. “Don’t, Ishy. Please don’t.”

Ishmael pried his way free. “For true, I’m tempted to bash my fist into yore ugly mouth, Boss. But I ain’t a-gonna. I give you and yore ma my word that I wouldn’t cause no troubles.”

Galen let out a rude snort. “You’ve already caused more trouble than I could handle in ten lifetimes.”

“You cain go on blamin’ ev’rybody ’cept yoreself if ’n it makes you feel better, but that don’t make ’em responsible.”

“Tell that to your sister.” Galen turned to her. “Your brother knows he cannot be with you or speak to you unless I’m present. I—”

“Now that thar’s the craziest thang a body e’er said.” Ivy gave him a peeved look.

“I don’t mind, sis.” Ishmael wrapped his arm around the mule’s neck. “A man’s gotta right to say how thangs go in his home. I tole Boss we’ll foller his rules.”

Ivy still looked disgruntled, but she shrugged.

“Yore thangs are wrapped up in the blue bundle,” Ishmael said, tilting his head toward the travois. As Ivy stooped to get them, Ishmael asked, “Boss, d’ya want Muley to spend his nights in the pasture or here in the stable?”

Galen studied the beast. He’d never seen a sorrier animal. Its ribs stood out in stark rows. “What have you been feeding him?”

“He forages.” Ivy cupped the bundle of her belongings to herself and said proudly, “Hardworkin’ animal, thar. And he don’t cost you nuthin’ at all to feed. I reckon yore plow horse is a-gonna get scairt you might not need him no more.”

Ishmael cleared his throat. “Betwixt Muley and that plow horse of yourn, we’ll be able to plow and harrow a field in half the time. I could clear another field or two as winter stretches on.

Come spring, you’d have yoreself more land to plant.”

“Don’t go making plans for too far into the future.” Galen eyed Ivy’s bundle. “Take those things inside.”

“G’night, sis.” Ishmael turned loose of the mule and hugged Ivy.

I’d rather deal with the mule than with the marriage
. Galen’s stomach rumbled. He stood his ground, and Ivy scurried off.

Ishmael pulled another meager bundle from the travois. “Don’t know whether yore mama’s a-gonna want these here thangs. Ain’t much, but I reckon it niver hurts to have ’nother pot or knife. ’Specially with two wimmin at the stove, extry gear might come in handy.”

Galen stared at the battered pot.

“Ain’t much to look at, but Ivy shore cooked up a mess of good food in it.” Ishmael grinned. “Better the gal be purdy and the pot ugly than t’other way round.”

Galen gritted his teeth. No use antagonizing the man. Making the best of this situation was going to test his mettle. “Stick him in the far stall.”

“Yessir.”

Galen stomped into the house, and his mouth started watering right away. The tempting aromas of Hilda’s cooking filled the cabin.

Colin sat on the edge of Ma’s bed. Dale and Sean both cuddled her from either side. “Where is she?” Galen demanded.

“Ivy went to the necessary.” Ma’s head dipped, and she rested her chin on Sean’s head.

Galen nodded curtly and turned so he could see out the window. If Ivy dared to go toward the stable …

“We waited for you.”

Colin brought Da’s Bible to Galen. Just last night, Galen had read the Christmas story to them. He’d stopped immediately after the shepherds paid homage to the Christ child. Galen refused to take it. “You read tonight.”

“Okay.” Colin went back to sit by the lamp beside Ma’s bed.

Ivy came into the house. Everyone stared at her. She let out a nervous laugh. “Chilly out thar. Sore chilly.”

“We read from God’s Word each night, Ivy,” Ma said, motioning to her. “Sit quietly and listen.”

Colin read the passage, and Sean wrinkled his freckled nose. “It doesn’t say there were three kings. Our song said, ‘We three kings.”’

“And a grand song ’twas.” Ma smiled. “I suppose we think there were three wise men since they brought three gifts.”

“Galen wasn’t ’round when Mr. Josh brought us home. He hasn’t seen his gifts yet.” Dale wiggled next to Ma. “Do we get to stay up and watch him?”

No
. He opened his mouth to refuse the request, but something about his baby brother’s innocent enthusiasm struck Galen. At the church, his brothers and mother had been terrified. This would allow them to end the day with a scrap of fun and a good memory. “Sure.”

“They’re in the crate under the table.” Ma said the words so quickly, Galen suspected she feared he’d change his mind.

“I’ll fetch ’em for you.” Ivy popped up.

Galen’s glower kept her pinned to her cot. He turned back to his brothers and made a point of rubbing his hands together. He’d keep Ivy on the fringes and try to shield his brothers from her influence and presence. “Oh, so you boys were hiding the crate from the McCains from me, were you?”

“We weren’t hiding it.” Sean peered at him. “I know better hiding places than under the table.”

“Do you now?” Galen quirked a brow.

Sean straightened up. “Yes, and Dale, don’t you dare tell them where.”

“’Course I won’t. I’m good at keeping secrets. No one would ever think to look—”

“Galen-mine,” Ma interrupted Dale, “I didn’t want the lads to stay up so late. Best you fetch that crate.”

“’Twill be fun to see what’s in it!” Ivy said.

Galen fought the urge to react to her at all. He dragged a bench out of the way and hunkered down to pull out the crate.

“Our Galen, don’t peek at it under there!” Dale called out. “We want to see, too!”

“Of course you do.” Galen tugged the crate and rose in one fluid move. Setting the crate on the bench so they could see, he mused, “Either there’s something heavy in here or I’m turning into a weakling.”