The Wrong Brother's Bride (12 page)

The liniment’s strong scent filled her nose, almost harsh enough to bring tears on its own. She applied it across his shoulder, digging her fingers into the tense muscles.

He made a noise.

“Did I hurt you?”

“In a good way.” His voice was muffled against his pillow.

She kneaded his flesh with her knuckles and felt the strained knots give across his shoulders and the middle of his back. She ran her fingers lightly over the curve of his spine. He stiffened and she wasn’t too naïve to know he liked her touch. Worse, she couldn’t deny she liked touching him. Smooth, warm flesh interrupted by the occasional scar made him interesting.

As a child, August had been a daredevil, unafraid to climb any tree or building, or ride any horse, no matter its demeanor. She’d witnessed him cross a narrow natural bridge on a rainy day despite the old warnings that many foolish boys had slipped and fallen to the rocky ground a hundred feet below. He was as graceful as a young wildcat, but he had scars to show for his adventures.

One on his left bicep where he’d caught a rusty nail falling off a barn roof. It was a miracle he hadn’t died from lockjaw. One on his chin from being thrown off a horse. If she parted his hair, there would be one on the back of his head where Jeremiah had thrown a rock at him in a moment of anger.

Loyal was surprised how much she remembered about his injuries. August was older than her by a year and when she’d befriended Jeremiah, they’d been plagued by his lonely little brother. As a child, August had made her cry and delighted in her misery. Even when they were older, he thought her annoying and used every available opportunity to separate her from Jeremiah. Sometimes he’d watched her with stony silence, as though he wanted to speak, but they didn’t know the same language.

Strange how she’d worried they wouldn’t get along when he came home. They’d butted heads once or twice, neither willing to concede easily, yet somehow they’d learned about compromising.

She rubbed the liniment over his sculpted biceps, down his elbows and wrists. He didn’t wear a wedding ring, but hers caught the light as she massaged the back of his hand. Over his shoulder, she saw his lips turned up, with pleasure like a man whose fondest dreams were coming true. The warmth in the pit of her stomach had nothing to do with embarrassment.

He was nude beneath the clinging sheet and she was rubbing him at her own insistence. Of course he was enjoying the attention, despite the smell. While she marveled at the curves and angles of his body, she became a little aroused as well. She couldn’t tell him. It wasn’t fair to make him think they would ever be more than friends. She moved away from his upper body, closer to his feet where she could think.

Loyal pulled the sheet up, exposing his feet and legs to mid-thigh. An ugly red scar stood out amid softly curling dark hairs under his knee. She touched it, tracing the long line.

“What happened?”

“Crosscut saw blade got me shortly after I started with the lumber crew. I was inexperienced and too smart for my own good. It was lucky the teeth caught my trousers more than my skin. Men have lost limbs because of carelessness. It only takes once before you realize you’ve got to stay alert if you want to keep everything attached.”

He barely opened his eyes as he told her about it. She pictured him young and scared as his blood leaked from the wound. Had he wondered if he would die alone so far away from his brother?

“Jeremiah never mentioned an accident.”

“I didn’t tell him. He wrote, but I didn’t reply often.” There was regret in his voice. “If I could change the past…”

“If it hadn’t been for the farm, I think he’d have gone after you. He was upset for a long time after you left.” Loyal rubbed ointment over the scar and his lower leg.

“It was for the best.” August raised his head and met her eyes. “I couldn’t stay here if I was going to be a different man. Too many people only wanted to see the boy I was.”

“I’m sure you could have changed it.”

“There were other reasons too.” His lips pinched as though trying to keep secrets inside.

“You were alone. Surely that frightened you?” Leaving home for the unknown was unimaginable.

“Maybe young men and young women are different. You said you knew from the time Jeremiah planned the house that you wanted to live here. I wanted the freedom of living my own life. It was good. The only rules I had to abide by were during company hours. The rest of the time I could do whatever I pleased.”

“What made you change your mind?” She held her breath as she waited for his answer, afraid someday he might believe she’d tied him down.

August rolled onto his back again. His eyes were soft, almost sympathetic. “Your letter.”

She pulled her gaze away. “All it said was he died and if you could come, you were needed.”

“You didn’t think I would.” He sat up and covered her hand with his. Big and warm, it engulfed hers, holding tight. A link she’d needed so badly after Jeremiah slipped away.

“I wasn’t sure. I thought you might have a wife and children by now. Or you might not even be in New Madrid anymore. It was a desperate hope.” She curled her free hand in her lap, clutching his with the other. It didn’t bear thinking about if he’d been married. She couldn’t have stayed here.

He leaned forward. The sheet slipped lower on his hips and drew her gaze. Loyal’s palm began to sweat beneath his hand.

August stroked his thumb over hers. “I never found the woman I truly wanted to marry. I asked the widow, I won’t lie about it. She refused because she thought I was in love with someone else. No matter. Everything worked out.”

“I suppose so.” She shivered and tried not to stare at his mouth. He was close enough she saw the short lashes framing his eyes. Eyes intently watching her. “Were you in love?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Maybe.”

“Tell me about her.” She wasn’t sure why it mattered.

“I don’t think so.” He broke eye contact. “It wouldn’t accomplish anything.”

“Let me guess then.” She frowned, imagining what sort of woman would please August. “Full figured. A sense of humor like yours—dry, but witty. She’s smart, well-read, and worldly. She can blend in, or stand out like a jewel. A deep laugh she only shares with you. And when she looks at you, there are stars in her eyes that make you feel like the last and most loved man on earth.”

He shook his head. “You’re wrong.”

“What? Then tell me what she’s like.” She didn’t know him very well, couldn’t say for certain what he would want. He was difficult to pin down.

“Well, not completely wrong. A few things were right. Smart, yes, and she draws the eye when she wants to. The look you talked about, she’d do that too. I also want a woman who knows without a doubt she’s the center of my world.” His voice was husky, eyes dark and sincere.

Loyal’s breath caught in her throat. “I never guessed you were a romantic.”

He looked embarrassed. “I’m not. Some of the men at the lumber camp said I was too picky.”

“What about the widow you were seeing?” She held his gaze, curious for the truth about the woman.

“She was a good friend. When I asked her to marry me she thought it was ridiculous. She was right.” He glanced away. “We weren’t well suited.”

Because she couldn’t live up to his dream woman?

Loyal shifted on the mattress. “You should get some rest. I can help shuck in the morning if you need me.”

“If you don’t have other chores.” He released her hand. “Thank you for the liniment.”

“It’s no trouble.” She flushed as she said it, aware those words came out of her mouth too often.

He shook his head, folding his long-fingered hands together over his stomach as he leaned back. “Your daddy taught you the meaning of service, didn’t he?”

“There’s nothing wrong with helping others.”

“Until they take advantage.” August’s old cynicism crept into his voice. “It’s lucky you had your heart set on Jeremiah, or God knows who would’ve come along and used you.”

Insulted, she scooted away. “I don’t have a head full of fluff. I know when people want to use me and when I’m doing the right thing by helping.”

He smiled and ducked his head, trying to hide it. The action transformed his face, though it was at her expense. “I wonder.”

“Think what you like.” She rose. “Good night, August.”

“Loyal.” The smile was gone from his voice, his face serious again. “I know you’re not empty-headed. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to prove I can be someone else. For trusting me.”

“There’s no need for that. I haven’t been the most trusting wife.”

“We all make mistakes. What matters is getting others to forgive them.”

“You’re right.” She paused. “You’ve been here for a month today. We should have celebrated.”

“It’s just a day. I hope I’ll be here many more months.” August’s words were solemn as a monk’s vows. “If you’ll let me.”

The tender places around her heart softened. “I hope you’ll stay and build a cradle, to see your niece or nephew born. First steps, first words, and birthdays.”

Emotion flickered in his eyes. He’d witness her child growing up, but the cradle would remain empty. He’d never have his own son or daughter. Guilt stabbed barbs through her. August deserved a family, and a wife like the one he’d described. He deserved to be more than an extended part of hers. She couldn’t give him that.

“Loyal? You look upset.” Concern furrowed his brow.

“It’s nothing. Just thinking. I’ll let you sleep now. See you in the morning.” She gave him a wobbly smile and left, barely listening as he bid her goodnight.

In her room, she folded the quilt down and undressed in the dark because she’d forgotten her lamp in August’s room. The day marking Jeremiah’s passing had come and gone without either of them speaking about it. More than a month and a week since his brilliant smile brightened her day, since he’d expressed joy over their baby. Loyal curled up on the bed and dragged the blanket over her. Minutes ago, she’d touched August, thought about kissing him, and she’d betrayed the memory of the man she’d promised to marry.

Deep inside, she knew she hadn’t loved him enough. Perhaps her sins were too great for God to allow them to share the life they’d dreamed about. Just like her father warned. She pushed away the hateful words he’d spoken the last time they were together. She hadn’t been to church services in months, but she couldn’t avoid him forever. Sooner or later they’d see each other, but at least this time she had a wedding ring to make her respectable. Loyal hoped her father would come to accept his grandchild and his son-in-law. August was right; her father had taught her service and now she’d taken on the ultimate challenge to provide for the baby she already loved.

10

August double checked the harnesses on the horses and put his hands on his hips before he faced the house. Certain Loyal was intentionally causing a delay, he sighed. Last night when he’d told her it was time to sell the corn, she’d refused to accompany him. He’d be damned if he let her stay home until after the baby was born. In the month they’d been married, she hadn’t left the house once. Though she’d made friends with Mrs. Stiles and the children, she needed to see others and realize not everyone was talking about the scandal.

He walked back to the house and mounted the steps. “Loyal, you ready?”

“Almost. I’ll be out shortly.”

Her voice came from the direction of her room, although he couldn’t hear her moving around. August shook his head. He hoped whatever she was doing was worth the delay. Sorry wagged his tail as he approached and settled by August’s feet. He leaned down, scratching behind the dog’s ears.

He idled away a couple of minutes doing that, until Sorry barked. August followed him to the edge of the porch. A horse and cart came down the road, a single driver on the seat. The man wore a straw hat, but it didn’t shield his face. His build was enough to give his identity away. Gideon Redfearn drove the cart into the yard and stepped off the conveyance. Sorry went wild, his hackles raised and lips pulled back in a snarl, though he stayed near August.

“August, what’s the dog—oh.” Loyal stopped with her hand on the screen door. “Papa.”

“May I speak with my daughter alone, O’Dell.” It wasn’t a question.

Big and brawny, Gideon didn’t look much like a preacher. Instead, he more resembled an aging Highland warrior from legend. A hawk-like nose dominated his face, sitting below eyes darker than his daughter’s. The slash of his mouth formed a frown fierce enough to frighten most sinners into repenting.

August hadn’t faced the man in some time, but he was no more impressed with the preacher now than he had been on their last meeting. And although August was glad Loyal was his wife, he resented Gideon for not allowing her to follow her heart.

“Loyal.” Gideon stared at her for a long moment.

The air felt charged like a cloudy sky with a storm brewing. August’s shoulders tightened as he waited for the exchange between the two.

“It’s good to see you.” Loyal sounded as though it was anything but good. She stepped onto the porch, letting the door slam behind her.