Military Romance Collection: Contemporary Soldier Alpha Male Romance (160 page)

Chapter 9

Joseph couldn’t understand how Society men did it. He had bargained with the tailor to borrow a suit in exchange for repairs to his floorboards, and these clothes itched and stabbed at him, the material course and scratchy. He was used to the soft, worn clothing he used daily. Admittedly, it was not tailored to his form, but it fit fairly well, considering it had been rejected by some pompous, ungrateful man because he did not like the way the pants had been darted.

Still, Joseph did not know if he would be able to accustom himself to such discomfort, should he succeed in his errand.

He marched with his head up, papers folded his hand, into the bank, a place he had never before visited, and his nerves tingled with apprehension. He’d tried for over a week to think of a way to better his life without asking for help, and he’d found nothing. He only wished to provide the assistance Grace needed to get well. Her health had gotten worse with each passing day, and the doctor said she needed tests that cost more than Joseph could ever hope to save in time to avoid further complications resulting from the illness.

And if he was honest with himself, Joseph had more selfish concerns that drove him to seek a loan. He’d considered it before, but it was only now that he could not forget the look in Cora’s eyes that he felt it necessary to move forward. If he could acquire a loan to start his own business, he could build himself to a stature of which he could at least be deemed worthy of speaking to Cora. He had not dreams of wealth, only of no longer living in poverty and being cast off as garbage by those among the highest class.

Inside, he waited in line and presented the letters of recommendation from his various employers, showing that he had incredible work ethic and never failed in his duties. He explained his purpose to the banker, detailing the experience he had as a farrier and in training horses for show. But the banker apologetically declined, stating that, while his business plan was solid and reasonable, and the letters proved he was an honest man, Joseph needed at least some history with the bank to obtain a loan the size of which he needed.

He offered a small, short term loan in its place, but Joseph politely declined and strode outside, frustrated to the point that he wanted to rip the horrible garments from his body and put his fist through a thick wooden board. He had no money to put into the bank, or he would not have needed a loan! Such requirements were madness, and they were set up so that the rich remained wealthy, and the poor never gained.

“You’re the Watts boy, aren’t you?” The voice startled Joseph, and he turned with a scowl, wondering what rich gentleman was in need of his services now. He was in a foul mood and not at all ready to accommodate anyone’s needs.

But the scowl faded as he came face to face with Cora’s father. “Yes, sir. Mr. Ashton. Joseph. My name is Joseph.” He couldn’t believe the man was speaking to him. Then again, Arthur Ashton had always been much kinder and more reasonable than his wife. And definitely more approachable. Cora must have inherited her charm and gentleness from him.

Ashton held out a hand to shake, and Joseph carefully took it, wondering if he was in the midst of some dream. “Joseph, that’s right. I must say, you’ve grown into a fine young man, Joseph. I overheard you speaking to the banker inside. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it seems you are at a standstill.”

Joseph was a bit embarrassed but shrugged. “I manage the best I can, but my sister is ill, and I only want to be able to provide for her. And whatever family I may have in the future.”

“You are a motivated, hardworking young man, and those are rare qualities,” Ashton said with approval. In a quieter voice, he said, “We both come from the same place, Joseph, and I see a bit of myself in you. It makes me curious what you are actually capable of when provided the resources for success.”

Joseph didn’t know quite where this was going, but he offered, “I believe I am capable of anything, given the opportunity and the desire. I certainly have the desire. It’s the opportunity I lack.”

Ashton took a deep breath. “What if I could present you with that opportunity, Joseph? If you had the backing for this business of yours, what do you think you could accomplish? What is your goal?”

The words hit Joseph in the chest and nearly left him breathless. He had to speak carefully, appeal to the man, if he had any hope of actually receiving assistance. “More than anything, I want to own a thriving business, one in which I’m not held to someone else’s beliefs, gratitude, or standards. I want to earn respect on my own and, through that respect, earn the money for a real house and a family. But beyond that, the sky is the limit. Once the first goal is achieved, I would set another, loftier goal, to stay motivated.”

Ashton smiled and chuckled softly. “Son, you sound more like me by the moment. Come, let me buy you a drink, and let’s chat.”

Joseph didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing at all and merely followed the man eagerly toward the pub, hoping desperately that, by some strange twist of fate, he was being dealt a better hand in life.

Chapter 10

The stroll to the market with Frances had been just what Cora needed to clear her head. The fresh air, the distance from her parents, and the listening ear of the one true friend she had added up to the release of a great deal of tension.

“Keep your chin up, Cora,” Frances told her as they hugged. “Whatever is best for you will work out in the end.”

“Thank you, Frances. I’ll see you Sunday, then?” Frances nodded and waved as she walked away, down the lane toward her own house. Not yet ready to go inside and waste a day of brilliant sunshine, Cora rounded to the rose garden out back and took slow, even steps through the maze of bushes so perfectly sculpted. She gazed out toward the woods, far beyond the settled township, reminiscing. It had not been so long ago that those woods had provided shelter when she needed escape and when her closest friends gave her comfort when her parents did not.

She heard footsteps behind her and rounded quickly, gasping to see Joseph approaching, much closer than she had first thought. “Joseph!” she hissed. “What are you doing here?”

That lopsided smile melted her heart. No matter how much either of them had matured, so little had changed within either of them. She could sense it. “Didn’t you know? Your father has hired me as his gardener.”

Cora gaped at him. “You’re fibbing. My mother would never allow it.”

He shrugged. “It is my understanding women aren’t allowed to make such decisions among the wealthy.” He winked, teasing her. “I give you my word, I am not lying. Ask your father, if you must. Should I find him, then?” He started to walk away.

Cora reached out and grabbed his arm to halt him, and his expression was filled with bemusement. “You should probably not seek either of my parents. I believe my mother is off to have tea with one of her new friends, and Father is probably doing business somewhere.”

He nodded. “Then that explains why you freely gaze at the woods over there with longing.” She narrowed her eyes at him, and he looked around to make sure no one was watching. Then, he took her hand and drew her deeper into the maze of roses, out of sight of curious eyes. He faced her toward the trees and stood behind her, speaking softly. “I remember a girl and a boy and a tree. And at the base of the tree was a bird, just a baby. The girl was devastated, crying over the fact that its mother would never again want to help it, feed it, love it. So, the boy climbed the tree, stole the nest down, and scooped the baby bird into the nest. And when he prepared to climb the tree again and replace the tiny bird, the girl begged him not to do it. She said that if the baby fell again, it would die, and she wanted more than anything for it to live.”

Cora sighed. “I know this one,” she whispered, almost seeing a much younger Joseph through the blurred vision of tears. “The boy put his arm around the girl’s shoulders and cradled the bird in the nest against his chest, taking both of them out of the woods and back home. He kept the baby bird and nursed it, so the girl could watch it grow and thrive, until the day it took flight. They cheered together, and the girl…” She trailed off, a lump in her throat.

He finished for her, “The girl threw her arms around the boy’s neck, thanking him, and planted a kiss square on his cheek.”

Turning to face him with heat in her cheeks, Cora saw the one dimple above his grin. “After that, she forever teased him that she had kissed him so hard it left a mark, which became the dimple that showed whenever he smiled in earnest.”

His eyes were sad, and Cora felt like crying as she gazed into them. But there was something more in them as he reached and tucked a stray tress of hair behind her ear. “He still believes that he carries the mark of her affection,” he whispered, the smile fading.

Cora’s heart thudded in her chest. Joseph was merely inches from her, and she stared at his lips, thinking how they looked so much stronger and more inviting than Charlie’s.

The sound of women laughing around the front of the house broke the spell, and Joseph stepped quickly away, clearing his throat. He gestured toward the sound and said softly, “You should go, before your mother comes looking. Take care, Cora.”

“You’ll be here tomorrow?” she asked, a little too much hope in her voice. He nodded and went back to work on the bushes as she hustled to the best of her ability toward the front porch, where her mother was saying her goodbyes to the other ladies.

“Well, if it isn’t my lovely girl!” she said in an overly boisterous tone. “Come, Cora, we must get Edith to change you and style your hair again. Charlie has been invited to dinner, and you’ll want to look your best.”

Cora was speechless. No one had told her he was coming over tonight. And even now, her mother wasn’t making the statement for her benefit but to boast to the others about Cora’s suitor. Rolling her eyes at the need to make others jealous, Cora smiled and said in an overly sweet tone, “Why, Mother, if I didn’t know any better, I would think you were the one who wanted to be courted by Charlie Cantrell.”

She caught the indignant rage in her mother’s eyes briefly before hurrying into the house and calling for Edith amidst the laughter of her mother’s friends.

Chapter 11

Cora felt like a doll posed for a photograph when Charlie arrived. She sat with her mother at the wicker table on the porch, her father standing behind them with a hand on the back of each chair, the three of them grinning broadly. Actually, Cora’s expression felt like more of a grimace, but Charlie didn’t seem to notice as he greeted each of them in turn.

Her motherbatted her lashes at Charlie, which made Cora’s stomach churn. She was already sick and dizzy from the tightness of her dress, which actually contained whalebone, something she’d never worn. She was terrified to stand, as it had taken her at least ten minutes to get into her seat to start with. To her relief, tea and biscuits were brought out, and Charlie took a seat beside her while her father drew up a chair next to her mother.

Cora was polite but a bit unengaged in the conversation, which seemed to be centering around business first and then Charlie’s new haircut, the latter subject raised by Cora’s mother. It was shameful, as far as she was concerned, but she didn’t really care much. Her mind was still back in the rose garden, with a much more intriguing young man.

For just a fraction of a second, Cora had thought Joseph meant to kiss her, and she had welcomed it, wanted desperately to see what it would feel like and if she would be able to taste his lips on hers afterward. But, as usual, her mother ruined the moment. Granted, she hadn’t meant to. She’d had no clue where Cora was or what she was doing. But even by accident, her mother got what she wanted, and Joseph had acted the perfect gentleman. He’d assured she got into no trouble and gone about his duties.

“Mr. Ashton, I’ll be off for the day, but I’ll be in early tomorrow.” The familiar voice broke through Cora’s thoughts, and she had to cover a gasp with a hiccup as she saw Joseph standing in front of the porch, his skin glistening with the sweat of hard labor. His eyes were bright, his face darkened by the sun, and Cora wanted to leap at him, tell him to carry her away from this place as he had once before, when they were children.

But as he noted how close Charlie sat beside her and how his little finger brushed against hers on the table, Joseph’s smile faded. Cora winced internally at the change in his demeanor. “Nice work, Joseph,” her father called. “Thank you for your dedication.” He waved, and Joseph nodded to him, but his gaze lingered on Cora, who now wanted to duck under the table.

“Good day, Mrs. Ashton, Miss Ashton, Mr. Cantrell,” he said, touching the brim of his hat, and then he turned and strode away.

“He’s a polite young man,” Charlie commented lightly.

But Cora’s mother scoffed. “I still can’t understand why my husband didn’t hire a proper gardener. His bleeding heart is always causing problems. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of our things went missing soon.”

“Mother, that is uncalled for!” Cora scolded. “Being of a higher status does not give you the right to think ill of everyone.”

Her mother gave her a warning look, but her father placed a hand over his wife’s. “I believe Cora may have a point, darling. Too many people are too quick to judge. How might someone like Joseph Watts, a young man everyone praises for his hard work and his honesty, prove himself trustworthy if not given a chance?”

Cora’s mother sputtered, but Charlie spoke up. “That is quite a modern way of thinking, Mr. Ashton, sir. I agree. Adopting a general opinion of an entire class is hardly fair to those few souls who are good, God-fearing people.”

Eyeing him, Cora tried to decide whether Charlie was being honest, attempting to please her father, or trying to placate her own irritation by taking her side after her outburst. In a calmer voice and glaring at her mother, Cora added, “Joseph Watts attends the Lutheran church every Sunday, unless he has to work, and any employer who expects a man to work during the few hours set aside for praising the Lord isn’t much of a Christian.”

“Lutheran or otherwise,” her father said, “the boy comes with quite the reputation. I trust him, and I will continue to do so until he gives me a reason to think otherwise.”

Cora wished she could hug her father, but it would look bad. She had already spoken against her mother, and she refused to create family drama, even if she didn’t personally care what Charlie thought of her or her family. The truth of the matter was that he had the ability to carry back to everyone else gossip about the dissidence between them and how Cora was a daddy’s girl who did not respect her mother. It would look terrible for both her parents, and she would not put them in a position of being the butt of jokes.

As they stood to enter the house, Cora gazed down the lane where Joseph had walked away, wishing she could chase after him. But her breath caught in her throat. Just past the last house, before the turn in the road that led to the less favorable area of town, stood Joseph, leaning against a lamppost with his head down, looking forlorn.

As if he could sense her looking at him, he lifted his head, and though they were a fair distance apart, Cora felt his gaze lock on hers. She covered her mouth to keep from whimpering, longing for the days when she had freedom. And wanting to feel Joseph’s arms around her in comfort.