The Wrong Brother's Bride (21 page)

He turned to leave, furious because Loyal deserved so much better.

“August.”

He stopped mid-step and faced Gideon.

“Mine was an arranged marriage. We were from neighboring towns, had never laid eyes on each other. It was a land gain for my father. I ran away to seminary, but our fathers expected us to keep the bargain. I felt a calling as a preacher, not to marry a stranger.” Gideon stared out the window again. In minutes, he seemed to have aged ten years. “The first year was difficult. I had no heart for farming. When I heard about a retiring preacher in Wilson township, I applied for the position against my father’s wishes. Against Elizabeth’s.”

He shifted his gaze. “The first year was difficult. The second year was hellish. She hated me for taking her so far away from her family. We fought more often than not. I was trying to lead my first congregation and I could barely get my wife to speak civilly. She was dutiful, God rest her soul. And we learned we would be blessed with a child. With Loyal. She changed things. She brought us together when it looked as though we were going to fail.”

August swallowed. He’d never given any thought to Gideon’s marriage. Strange that they should be talking about it now. “She’s special.”

“You can’t imagine how it felt when she told me she planned to marry Jeremiah. He had nothing but a mortgage and a patch of brushy land. I forbade the marriage for years. I was certain she would meet someone acceptable. Until I held on too long and she defied me. You don’t know what it is to realize your child has gone against your will. Until she has broken the protective circle you tried to place around her.” Gideon looked down at his hands. “My little girl. My only child, because Elizabeth couldn’t bear any more after her. I knew I should have arranged a marriage for Loyal, except she threatened to run away with your brother.”

August sucked in a breath. “Didn’t you see she was happy with him? That she can be happy here now? The baby’s she’s carrying is loved. By her. By me, the first time I felt it move. This is where we are on the path, Gideon.”

“You could let her go.” Gideon’s eyes, a shade darker than Loyal’s, implored him to reconsider the marriage.

August clenched his jaw. “I’d have a finer time trying to stop my own heart.”

Gideon looked away. “Your brother said much the same thing. Everyone has a price, August. I wonder if yours isn’t a soft spot for a widow you left behind in New Madrid.”

“I didn’t know you and Jeremiah had a lot to talk about.” Unless the postmaster was allowing Gideon to read Jeremiah’s mail, it was the only way he’d know about Carrie. “Mrs. Winston said no when I asked for her hand. She hasn’t been a soft spot for a while. You should also know Mrs. Winston doesn’t hold a candle to Mrs. O’Dell.”

“This is where we are,” Gideon repeated. “Leave me in peace.”

He didn’t deserve peace, but August didn’t need an excuse to leave. Gideon’s revelation about his wife only made August wonder if Loyal would someday hate him for trapping her in marriage.

He expected her to be waiting outside the bedroom door. A quick search revealed she wasn’t in the house, although she hadn’t gone far. She reached through the corral to stroke Molly’s foal. He hesitated on the porch for a moment before he decided to join her.

Loyal didn’t look away from the filly. “What did he say when you told him you love me?”

She’d heard. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Her voice was calm, expression unreadable. “There aren’t many people who don’t know. I guess you were the only one.”

“I asked what he said.” Her hand trembled faintly when she lifted it away from the foal’s coat. Brown eyes took him in. “Tell me.”

There was no way to know if she loved him in return, or if she was appalled by his admission. “He told me about why he married your mother. How you brought them together.”

“I knew it wasn’t a love match.” She turned from the foal to Molly and scratched between the mare’s ears. “So many marriages aren’t. When did you know, August?”

Eighteen years ago, he’d dared her to hang upside down by her knees from an apple tree branch. She’d wrinkled her nose, hiked her skirt up and climbed the tree quicker than a cat. Sitting on the branch, she’d tipped backward, letting her hands dangle and long red braids stretch toward the ground. Her refusal to be afraid had impressed him. That day, he’d realized if he ever decided to get married, he wanted Loyal. But Jeremiah had already claimed her.

He couldn’t tell her about that memory, so he lied. “I think it was the night we delivered the foal. You were brave even though Molly was in danger and either of us could’ve been hurt. When I took your hand, it became clear. I love you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered.

August leaned against the corral rail. The filly stretched her neck, sniffing his elbow. He put his hand out, scratching her soft muzzle. Telling Loyal his feelings was harder than coming home had been. “Because I’d never ask you to stop loving Jeremiah for me.”

She faced him, her eyes wide and red-rimmed. “Oh, August. I’ll always love him. Nothing can change it. He gave me this gift.” She caressed her stomach. “He gave me a home. He brought us together.”

An ache that went deeper than the bruises on his back rocked him. He’d made a fool of himself, telling her father the truth while she was nearby. How had he thought he could compete for a woman’s love with the man she had on a pedestal?

He watched the horses, unable to look her in the eye. “It doesn’t mean anything is different. I’ll sleep in the barn until your father decides he can’t tolerate us anymore.”

“Why would you?” She touched his arm. “You’re my husband.”

“Not the one you wanted.” No stranger to rejection, he shouldn’t feel disappointed by her love for Jeremiah. He suddenly needed some space, some quiet time alone to think about what he’d said.

Loyal laughed.

He scowled. “What’s amusing?”

“Your temper and expression. I’ve seen children pout. Yours is positively pathetic. Forgive me, I shouldn’t laugh.” She stroked his arm, expression softening. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.” The lie was bigger than the one he’d told moments ago. “I’m going to work on the cradle.”

“Wait.” She moved her hand to his chest and came closer. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. About your brother. I’m just—”

“What is it?” He wasn’t sure he could stand much more talk about Jeremiah. He’d never live up to his brother, and he didn’t need constant reminders.

“I hope you can forgive me after I tell you.” Loyal bit her lower lip.

His pride was wounded, but he couldn’t imagine anything she’d say to make him feel any different about her.

“I loved him, but I wasn’t in love with him. Not the way a woman about to marry a man she’s known her whole life should be.”

August blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“We were good friends. My heart wasn’t in marrying him, even though we were close. I was tired of Papa’s overbearing ways. It was my chance to start a family and you know how much I love this farm.” She took a ragged breath. “It was so selfish.”

“But the baby?” His throat felt clogged. “You said—”

“It’s his. I didn’t lie. One evening after another long lecture from Papa about piety and how I shouldn’t associate with Jeremiah, I walked out here.” She hugged herself as though the heat had vanished, replaced by winter’s chill. “I meant to turn around before I got here, sure my temper would have settled after a mile. For some reason, I couldn’t stop walking. Jeremiah had just come in from the fields. When he smiled, oh, you know how it was. He could be so charming.”

August nodded, ashamed that he was jealous of his dead brother. “I remember.”

“It was impulsive, and I know he thought it settled everything, even though I didn’t make any promises. Then I realized I was pregnant and I didn’t have a choice. He was so happy. All his dreams were coming true, except I wasn’t the woman he thought I was. I’m a terrible person, August.”

A fat tear slid down her cheek. Anguish hung around her like a cloud. His mouth was cotton dry. Even if it hadn’t been, he wasn’t sure what to say. Loyal didn’t love either of them.

“Are you disgusted because I lied?” Her voice quivered. “I feel so awful about it.”

August cleared his throat and put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not disgusted, just surprised.”

“Are you certain? He might have had real love. A woman who thought the sun rose and set with him. I deceived him because I was angry.”

“You’d have grown to love him as a wife loves a husband.” He held her gaze, sure he spoke the truth.

“We were friends all those years. I don’t think I would ever have loved him as much as he loved me. But I do believe I could have made him happy. Given him the family he always wanted.” She sniffed. “I’m sorry.”

She’d been carrying the guilt around since Jeremiah’s death. It was almost as bad as his own. August pulled her into his arms. If she hadn’t loved Jeremiah, what chance did he stand at winning her heart?

“Don’t fret about it. You did make him happy.”

Loyal rested her palms on his chest, pushing back a few inches. Her face was serious, her eyes wide. “There’s something else. It’s the truth. I never meant to imply that I don’t love you in return. You’re my constant. I admit at first I was afraid I’d made a mistake. Maud planted doubts in my mind, but you’ve erased each one over time. I care for you, August. I love you.”

The world stopped. All other sounds vanished, the air, the animals, and crops. August couldn’t move as her lips parted and her words rang in his ears. He recovered from the shock, dipping his head to cover her mouth with his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, returning the kiss with passion.
His wife loved him.

She didn’t need to know he’d loved her since they were children. They could make a future from where they were now. The jealousy he’d suffered as a boy over his brother’s luck with Loyal evaporated.
Thank you, brother, for bringing me back to Wilson, and to Loyal.

16

Every ounce of strength August put into plowing and planting the cornfield was for his family. Every hour he was away from Loyal passed with the knowledge that she was waiting for him to return. He caught himself smiling for no reason when he was alone in the fields. Lovesick, which would have been pathetic if she hadn’t admitted she felt the same way. Gideon remained distant, though he began joining them for meals, and quietly reading his new bible in the evenings.

Early on a Sunday morning two weeks after the storm, August lay next to Loyal, her back to his chest and bottom pressed against his groin. He curled a strand of auburn hair around his finger while he nuzzled her neck. She smothered a giggle with her pillow. He tugged her nightdress around her thighs, dragging his fingers up her smooth skin. A soft moan left her lips as he explored beneath the cotton material.

The lilac fragrance she wore surrounded him, curling through his veins—a tonic he couldn’t live without. Her gown slipped down from her right shoulder, baring creamy skin. Unable to resist a taste, he kissed a path from her neck to the top of her arm. He slipped the tie from the end of her hair and ran his fingers through the reddish-brown waves. It curled around the shell of her ear and he pushed it away, rising on one elbow so he could kiss her lobe. He paused when he heard footsteps, followed by a rap on their bedroom door.

Loyal’s eyes widened and she scooted away from him. “Papa?”

“We’ll be late for church.” Gideon’s voice rumbled through the door.

“Church?” August mouthed. He should have guessed this was coming since he’d heard the church roof had been repaired. He shook his head as Loyal slipped from bed.

“We’re almost ready, Papa.”

He watched her take a dress from the bureau and remove clothes for him as well. She held up two shirts. “White or blue?”

“No. I’m not going to church, Loyal. Not today, nor ever.”

“It’s important. He’s missed his congregation. Please do this for him.” She approached, still carrying the shirts. “For me?”

He slouched against his pillow. She was his weakness and she knew it. “I’ll hitch the wagon.”

* * * *

August’s head bobbed toward his chest and Loyal nudged his arm. She put her hand over his and smiled.

“Service is over. He noticed when you fell asleep.”

“Told you I didn’t want to come,” he grumbled. “How long before we can go home?”

“He wants to visit with everyone. They’ll reassure him that he isn’t going to lose his position as the preacher here. Perhaps we can find out how long before they can get started rebuilding the parsonage.” Her smile widened. “I’ll talk to the women and see what they know.”

He rose from the pew then helped her up. At nearly six months pregnant, she had more trouble lifting herself out of chairs.

Gideon made his way to the door, stopping to speak with a few people and shake hands. They seemed happy to see him in good health and congratulated him on the sermon.

“Excuse me. There’s Frannie Lane. Her husband works at the lumber mill. She might know if the lumber is already cut.” Loyal squeezed his hand and made her way across the aisle.