Julia: Bride of New York (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 11) (13 page)

She sighed inwardly. Fletcher had remained adamant that he wanted no more children. Even though they had consummated their marriage, he always used something he told her would prevent her from becoming pregnant. She’d found a box of
Dr. Power's French Preventatives
in his dresser drawer when she was putting away clean laundry, which was what she’d assumed he used.

Her thoughts returned to the teacher, who still went on about the horrible things that would happen to Patty Ann if she wasn’t brought under control. Tired of listening to her dire predictions, Julia took the woman by the arm and began to walk her down the front steps.

“Thank you so much for coming by, Miss Ambrose. I will take Patty Ann’s behavior up with the sheriff when he comes home.”

The woman tugged on her coat sleeves and nodded. “I certainly hope so.” She wagged her finger. “And if she continues on this way, I may have to make a visit to the sheriff myself. Although I’m sure he’s very busy.”

Julia patted her on the arm. “You can be assured I will tell him the minute he walks in the door.”

Appeased, the teacher left, still mumbling to herself.

Julia returned to the kitchen and sat next to Patty Ann who had already consumed her afterschool snack. “What were you and the two boys fighting about?”

Patty Ann lowered her chin and shrugged.

Julia ducked her head to look into the girl’s eyes. “Patty Ann?”

“They said my papa was stupid for marrying up with you because you’re a cripple.”

Her head snapped back as if she’d been slapped. If she lived to a hundred, she would never understand people’s cruelty. Obviously these children had heard this from their parents.

“Who were these boys?”

“Ronald and Jimmy Johnson.”

She should have known. Probably still feeling the sting of her rejecting him after he’d rejected her, Mr. Johnson had done a good job of poisoning his sons’ minds. And why would two boys pick on a little girl? From what she’d heard, the Johnson boys were both older than Patty Ann. Instead of dragging her daughter here and chastising her, Miss Ambrose should have been talking to the horrible Mr. Johnson about his two bullies.

She would, indeed, talk to Fletcher about Patty Ann’s behavior. And how two boys had insulted her. Remembering the teacher’s comments, she said, “If you were fighting with two boys, how did you manage to give them black eyes?”

Patty Ann narrowed her eyes. “Are you kidding? They sure don’t know how to fight.”

“How did you learn to fight? I’m sure that’s not something your Aunt Catherine taught you.”

“Nah. Papa and I used to wrestle all the time. That was before ma—”

“I understand.” Julia placed her palm on the little girl’s head. “If you ever want to talk about your mama, I’m willing to listen.”

She nodded but remained silent.

“Honey, I will have to tell your papa about Miss Ambrose’s visit. Even though Jimmy and Ronald said mean things, you can’t fight with them.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Julia cupped the girl’s chin and moved her head back and forth. “Looks to me like they got a few punches in.” Her cheek had a red bruise that could very well turn into a black and blue mark. Anger flooded her, thinking about this poor little girl being picked on because of something she had nothing to do with. If Fletcher didn’t go talk to Mr. Johnson, then she definitely would. The man was raising two bullies, and he needed to do something about it.

Fletcher read the telegram he’d received from the Hamilton sheriff as he walked from the jail to his house.

WILL NEED YOU TO TESTIFY WHEN CIRCUIT JUDGE COMES STOP

SHOULD BE IN A FEW DAYS STOP

He folded the missive and stuck it into his pants pocket. As he opened the front door, the smell of something wonderful assailed him, reminding him what a wonderful idea it had been to marry Julia.

Her cooking was near the top of his list of reasons why he was satisfied with his marriage. She was also smart, funny, intelligent, and so far she’d been a wonderful mother to Patty Ann. He frowned. Since her return home, the little girl had seemed more rowdy than he remembered. But then Laura had dealt with her more than he had.

His and Julia’s time shared in the marriage bed had been satisfying, as well. Although a virtuous young woman, she’d learned quickly and enjoyed his attentions. Much more than Laura ever had. Yes, married life suited him just fine.

Julia tilted her head to the side to receive his kiss on her cheek as she stirred the soup that bubbled in a pot on the stove. Feeling playful, he cupped her face and turned her head, his mouth covering hers hungrily. The spoon clattered to the floor as she ran her palms up his chest, encircling his neck, giving as much as taking from his kiss.

He pulled her closer, feeling her soft breasts crushed against his body. His hand slid down her back to her bottom, nudging her against him, moving his hips in such a way that she moaned into his mouth. He released her and kissed her jaw, ear, the sensitive skin beneath her ear.

Julia felt as though her knees had turned to water. She was ready to rip their clothes off and drag him into the bedroom. Then she remembered there was a little girl in the house, sitting on her bed, waiting for her papa to talk to her. She gently pushed on Fletcher’s chest. “Stop. Patty Ann is in the house.”

Panting, he rested his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes. “Damn.”

“Indeed.”

“Later.”

“Absolutely.”

Julia bent to pick up the spoon. “You have to go talk to our daughter.”

He pulled out a chair, turning it so he straddled it. “What did she do this time?”

She rinsed the spoon off and laid it alongside the stove. “Fighting.”

“How the hell—”

“Language,” she tsked.

“—can she get into so many fights?”

Julia sighed. “I think Mr. Johnson’s sons have been picking on her.”

“What? They have to be at least ten or eleven years old. She’s barely seven.” He stood and pushed the chair in. “Did she get hurt?”

“She has a slight bruise on her cheek, but from what her teacher told me—and I don’t like that woman at all, Fletcher—Patty Ann gave both boys black eyes.”

A grin broke out on his face. “You don’t say?”

“Fletcher!”

“Sorry.” He fought to contain his smile. “I’ll go talk to her.”

Entering his daughter’s room, she looked so little sitting on her bed, legs crossed, her elbows resting on her knees. “Hi, Papa.”

“Hi, sweetheart.” The mattress dipped as he sat alongside her. “What happened in school today?”

“We learned about Christopher Columbus.”

“Patty Ann…”

She sighed. “I got into a fight in the play yard with Ronald and Jimmy Johnson.”

“Why?”

“’Cause they said you were stupid for marrying a cripple.”

His gut tightened at his daughter’s words. That rotten son of a bitch and his two rotten sons. It was bad enough Johnson was still referring to Julia as a cripple, but now he had his sons picking on his daughter at school. Well, it was time for him to make a little visit to the mercantile and put the fear of God in the man.

“Honey, you know Julia isn’t a cripple, right?”

“But she limps.”

He pulled Patty Ann onto his lap. “When Julia was a little girl, probably about your age, she was run over by a wagon that broke a couple of bones in her leg. Because her family had no doctor nearby, her mama did the best she could to fix her up, but the bones never healed correctly. That’s why she limps. But, believe me, she can run circles around most people.”

“Poor Julia.”

“No. Poor Ronald and Jimmy.”

She frowned.

“Julia has a family who loves her. Ronald and Jimmy have a father who says mean things about people. Mr. Johnson was the one who first called Julia a cripple. The boys picked that up from him, and if they keep saying nasty things about people, they will have a difficult time in life. No one likes a mean person.”

“Yeah, poor Ronald and Jimmy.” She smiled. “I gave them each a black eye.”

He fought not to smile back. “It’s not good to fight, Patty Ann. Especially little girls. You’re supposed to be a lady. Why don’t you play with the other girls in the play yard?”

“They play boring stuff.”

He glanced down at the pants peeking out from under her dress. “And I think you should stop wearing britches under you dresses. You’re getting older now and have to learn how to be a lady.”

“I don’t want to be a lady.”

“Your mama was a lady, and Julia is a lady. Believe me, honey, Julia is not boring.”

She waited for a minute. “All right. I’ll try.”

“Fine. Go wash up for supper. It smells wonderful, and I’m hungry.”

Father and daughter entered the kitchen. After pumping water into the sink, they both washed up and took their places at the table. Fletcher watched Julia ladle soup into three bowls, slice the fresh bread, and place a crock of butter on the table. She sat, and they all joined hands in prayer.

He’d told Patty Ann that Julia had a family who loved her. Did he love her? Had his feelings gone from caring to love? They’d only been married a few weeks, but already he couldn’t remember what it had been like to come home to an empty house. He had no memory of what he’d done with his time at night after he’d returned from doing his nightly rounds.

Now he and Julia occupied themselves with reading aloud to each other until their cuddling and touching grew so intense they retired to the bedroom. Yes, life with Julia was wonderful, except for his insistence that he use a condom each time they made love. He knew she still wanted a baby of her own, but he continued to live with the fear of losing another wife in childbirth.

He’d been fond of Laura and was shattered when she died. How would he feel if he had to watch Julia suffering and then taken from him? The fear was enough to quell any guilt he had on denying her what she truly wanted.

The next morning, Fletcher kissed his wife goodbye, walked Patty Ann to school, intending to head to the mercantile.

“Sheriff? A word, please.” Miss Ambrose stepped outside the school building and closed the door behind her, waiting for him to return. He climbed the stairs, removed his hat, and waited.

“Did Mrs. Adams tell you about your daughter’s latest scrape?”

“Well, ma’am, if you’re talking about two boys bigger and older than my little girl assaulting her in the play yard, yes, ma’am, she sure did.”

The teacher’s cheeks grew rosy, and she raised her pointed chin. “That is not the way I see it, Sheriff. When I found the three of them rolling on the ground, Patty Ann was sitting on top of Ronald, punching him in the face. His brother was attempting to pull her off and received a black eye for his trouble.”

“Did you question the children to learn what happened?”

“I don’t need to question them. I saw with my own eyes what was happening. Your daughter is wild, Sheriff. She wears trousers under her dresses, she fights, and she is simply too difficult to have in my classroom.”

Fletcher narrowed his eyes. “Just what is it you’re saying, Miss Ambrose?”

“I’m afraid I will have to suggest to the school board that Patty Ann be removed from school.”

He rocked back on his heels. “Are you telling me, that you, a trained teacher cannot control one little girl? It might interest you to know that the Johnson boys insulted my wife and said cruel and despicable things about her. My daughter was merely defending her stepmother.”

The woman sniffed. “She should have come to me with her problems, not taken it upon herself to fight the boys.”

“And since you seem to think Patty Ann is ‘too difficult,’ would you have been sympathetic to her complaint? From what I understand, these boys have been picking on my little girl since she came to school here. I suggest you start controlling the bullies in your classroom, Miss Ambrose, and stop worrying about what my daughter wears under her skirts.”

“Well! I never.”

“I’m sure you never have.” He put his hat back on. “Have a nice day, Miss Ambrose, and I expect you to do your job and watch over my daughter.”

His next stop was the mercantile. Mr. Johnson was busy with a customer so Fletcher just strolled the aisles, trying to calm himself after his exchange with the teacher. Johnson kept taking nervous glances at him as he helped Mrs. Stone select the items from her extensive list.

Eventually, Fletcher just crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, keeping his eye on Johnson. The man wished Mrs. Stone a good day and marched up to Fletcher. “Sheriff, I hope you’re here to apologize for what your ruffian daughter did to my boys. They both have black eyes.”

Fletcher placed his hands on his hips, his legs spread. “Johnson, your boys are bullies. They’ve been tormenting my daughter at school since she arrived back in Wickerton. Now, I have a sneaky suspicion that you put them up to it because I married Julia.”

Johnson’s face went beet-red. “That is not true. You are welcome to her. Any woman who works in a saloon, wearing the dresses those girls wear is no lady, and doesn’t deserve respect. Julia is no more than a loose woman.”

In a flash, Fletcher had Johnson up against the wall, his fist wrapped in his shirt, the man’s feet dangling off the floor. “I’m sure you forgot that’s my wife you’re speaking of. And if I wasn’t a law enforcement officer you’d be lying flat on your back right now.”

Eyes wide, Johnson gulped several times. Fletcher let him go, and the man grabbed his throat, rubbing his neck.

“I want you to have your sons apologize to my daughter for what they said about Julia. Then I expect you to teach them manners and tell them to stay as far away from Patty Ann as they can get without leaving the school grounds.” He pulled on the cuffs of his jacket. “Do I make myself clear, Johnson?”

The man nodded, his lips tight. Fletcher doubted he would do anything about his sons, but hopefully he’d made enough of an impression on him that he would at least tell them to leave Patty Ann alone.

The bell over the front door signaled the arrival of Mrs. Davidson.

Fletcher tipped his hat to the woman and turned to Johnson. “You have a customer, Johnson. Best take care of business.