The Wrong Brother's Bride (9 page)

“Anyone see O’Dell touch Mrs. Bowman? Give her a push, grab her arm?” Fowler studied the contents of Maud’s pocketbook on the ground.

A murmur went through the crowd. Someone cleared his throat. “He lunged at her. Couldn’t say whether he hurt her.”

Cold sweat broke out on August’s brow. He held his hands up. “She dropped those things. I tried to help her pick them up. There’s no call for speculation, Fowler.”

“Except you’ve been known to cause trouble around here on a whim.”

What Fowler didn’t say was
you’re your father’s son.
It had passed through his lips on more than one occasion.

August swallowed hard, aware that there were people in the crowd who knew him beyond Maud’s talk. “This time’s different.”

“We’d better take this down to the jail. Come on, O’Dell.” Fowler gestured at him. Impatience was written across his age-lined face. His mustache twitched over his thin mouth.

August caught Maud’s smug smile. “Sheriff, Loyal’s expecting me home. She’ll worry.”

“You can come along peaceful, or we can do it the way we used to.” Fowler closed in, hand on the gun strapped to his waist.

A hand snaked around August’s upper arm and he turned, startled by the contact. Old instincts to protect himself kicked in. He struck out with his free hand. Too late he realized the man was Fowler’s. The deputy staggered back, holding his nose.

“Same damn August.” Fowler grabbed his shirt collar, dragging him away from the bleeding deputy.

“Wait a minute.” August put his hands out to steady himself. “I—”

Before he could defend himself, Fowler’s fist flew through the air. Pain exploded in August’s skull and his knees gave out. He landed flat on his back, gazing up at the sky through a murky haze clouding his vision. He’d assaulted a law officer and it meant he was headed for jail.

With a sinking feeling in his heart, he knew Loyal would never trust him again.

7

Loyal longed for the sound of horseshoes on the road as she clutched the porch railing. She didn’t know whether to be furious or worried or both. August had left yesterday morning and hadn’t returned. Where could he be? Had running the farm become a burden for him already?

She wasn’t sure how their financial situation stood. Perhaps hiring labor would be too costly. With no help, the corn crop was as good as spoiled. He might have emptied his brother’s bank account, taken the money saved there and fled. Or maybe it was because of her. After she’d told him she wouldn’t tolerate infidelity, he’d realized what a mess he’d gotten into and decided to leave.

She paced the porch. How long would it take the bank manager to demand payment on the farm equipment, and how would she come up with the money to give him? Jeremiah had owed on the land too, but maybe she could sell some of the outer acreage to cover the payments. Her head ached with worry.

Just like August to bring this down on her. She’d been naïve to think he was different, even with the changes she’d seen over the last two weeks. He was no good and never would be. Somehow she’d make this right and provide for her baby. With every step she took, her anger multiplied. He didn’t even have the courtesy to leave a note explaining why he’d abandoned her. She’d show him. Him and everyone who thought poorly of her since she’d left her father’s house.

The milk cow bawled from the pasture and she knew rather than wait for a man who was never coming home, she should start the morning’s chores. They’d keep her mind off worthless August O’Dell. Angry tears welled in her eyes. Hadn’t she suffered enough bad luck lately? Knowing Maud was right about August’s motives made her feel ill.

She didn’t stop stewing as she milked Sunny and fed the chickens. Molly’s stall needed mucked and she dreaded the back-aching labor. No matter what August thought, she decided it would be easier to turn mare and foal out rather than deal with cleaning twice a day. Molly nickered when she entered the barn, but her foal hid behind its mother’s legs. The little bay was a filly, she’d discovered yesterday, before her world had collapsed again. Instead of feeling joyous about the foal, she realized she’d probably have to sell them soon along with the sheep, which she couldn’t sheer by herself.

August had made her promises. What was the point, if he didn’t plan to keep them? She opened the stall door and approached Molly, who watched her with pricked ears.

“Let’s go outside, girl.” Her voice cracked as the gangly foal stretched her neck as far as it would go, trying to catch Loyal’s scent.

Taking Molly’s halter, she led the pair outside. The farm looked peaceful, and knowing it might fail made her heart ache. Jeremiah had struggled to build it. Because of his brother, it would all fall apart.

Once the horses were secure in the field, she turned for the house again. There was laundry to do. Loyal wanted rid of every last reminder of the man she’d hastily married, from a napkin he’d used to the bedclothes.

By the time she had water carried from the pump to the big pot she used for washing and had it bubbling, her back was in knots and her head pounded. It was nearly noon and she felt like she had accomplished little. She settled on the porch steps with Sorry at her side. The dog licked her face and she fought back tears. She slipped her arm around his shoulders, burying her fingers in his soft fur.

“We’ll be alright.” It sounded as much like a lie in the open air as it did in her head.

Sorry ignored her, perking up and studying the hilly horizon. His nose twitched and he barked three times before darting down the steps.

Loyal held her breath when she heard hoof beats strike the earth. Her heart raced as she pushed herself up and a figure on a horse came into view. The horse moved at a leisurely pace, once pausing to snatch a bite of tall grass before moving on. August sat atop the animal, recognizable from his low-crowned coachman’s hat and the clothes he’d worn to town. His shoulders slumped and his head hung low. He looked defeated and not at all like the man she’d watched ride away yesterday.

Well, he ought to feel ashamed for leaving her alone. She waited by the house, although she thought about marching up and demanding an explanation. He didn’t say a word as the gelding stopped a few feet from the porch. His hat was pulled low and he took his time dismounting. Almost as though moving caused him pain.

She knew, sure as oak trees came from acorns, he’d been drinking. He must’ve gotten drunk and probably into a fight, even ended up in jail. Just like his father. Loyal folded her arms over her chest and clenched her teeth, insulted when he began loosening the saddle straps.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” she demanded. “An excuse for your behavior? An apology for running off?”

He lifted his head and pushed his hat up his forehead. When he turned and met her gaze, Loyal gasped. His right eye was swollen shut and bright purple. He didn’t answer, but he didn’t continue untacking the horse either. A dozen thoughts ran through her mind and the most likely reason for his face was a fight. Just as she’d feared.

“The horse stood out in the street all night. He needs water and grain.” August hauled the saddle and blanket over the animal’s back and headed for the barn. The horse followed him like a dog, once again stopping to pull up a mouthful of grass.

“Why?” Loyal didn’t let him get far before she followed. “Where were you?”

He stopped and faced her. “I had a run-in with Fowler. A deputy surprised me and there were some punches exchanged. I hit a deputy and spent the night in a cell. I didn’t plan it, Loyal. You’re right to be mad.”

She couldn’t believe he didn’t defend himself. That he gave her
permission
to be angry. “Why did you hit a lawman, August?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.” He resumed walking, carrying the saddle to the barn. Sorry and the horse stayed at the doorway, but Loyal followed him inside.

“Tell me.”

“It was Maud’s fault. She started talking about you, told everyone on the square about the baby. I tried not to get mad. She wouldn’t let it go. Then she dropped her things and someone said they saw me push her. I wouldn’t touch her with someone else’s hand. Fowler showed up and when his deputy grabbed me, I reacted.” He slid the tack onto a saddle rack and leaned against the wall, closing his good eye. “I had money to pay the fine, but they thought it’d do me some good to stay behind bars a while. I told them you were waiting and I knew what you’d think when I didn’t come home.”

Maud’s betrayal pierced her like a hook. They’d been friends once, sharing secrets and laughter. She supposed their relationship had been deteriorating for a while. August’s words sank in and she realized he’d known all along she’d had ugly thoughts about him. She felt a little sick.

“You defended me.”

He shrugged and winced. “I tried. Didn’t do much good. Everyone thinks I’m the same person I was five years ago and you’re no better for taking up with the O’Dells.”

The truth stung. Before she could say anything, he removed the bridle from his horse, hung it and opened the corral to let the animal inside.

“Jeremiah—”

“Was the son of a drunk, no matter how well he was doing. He caused enough trouble on his own around here as a boy. They won’t ever see us any other way. Same as you won’t ever see me any differently.” He turned his back on her. “You were worried, I know that. Tell me, was it because I was missing, or because you stood to lose everything if I didn’t come back? Am I your husband or your help, Loyal?”

Speechless, she let him walk back to the house alone. He was right. She hadn’t considered he might be hurt or had run into trouble that wasn’t his own doing. He’d been good to her and she’d treated him the same way she had when they were children.

She found August staring at his stripped bed. There wasn’t any use in claiming it was laundry day. He knew her routine. His expression said it all. She’d intended to wipe out his presence here and he understood.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said quietly. “Not on purpose.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Anyone would have done the same.”

It might not be true, not if he’d made friends in the bootheel. Anyone in the township or Springfield would’ve written him off as a lost cause. Loyal knew her apology wasn’t enough, but she didn’t know how to make it up to him.

“There any water in the reservoir?” He didn’t wait for her answer as he made his way to the kitchen in slow, measured steps. “Already wasted a day and this one is shot too.”

His famous Irish temper was up, but it was better than the defeated look he’d worn since arriving.

Unsure what to do next, she stood by the table. “Are you hungry?”

“Don’t trouble yourself.” August worked the buttons on his shirt free and slipped it over his head. If his eye was ugly, it didn’t compare to the patchwork of bruises coloring his right side. One was unmistakably a boot print.

Fresh tears blurred her vision. “Oh, August. What did they do?”

She forgot her irritation with him and all the times he’d been smart or rude. He’d endured a beating for her.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he lied, wincing as he took a breath. “I just want to wash the smell of the jailhouse off.”

“Why would they hurt you?” She reached out, touching his side, careful around the worst bruises.

He flinched when she ran her fingers over his rib cage. “Because I threw the first punch. Fowler laid me out and it’s easy to kick a man when he’s flat on his back,” he answered bitterly.

“‘Doesn’t hurt.’” She echoed his words. “Sit before you fall down. I’d never get you up.”

“You don’t have to believe me.”

“Would the foreman in New Madrid believe you?” she asked.

He raised his left shoulder in a shrug. “He’d have knocked me out for not defending a lady.”

Loyal shook her head. “I’ll never understand why men resort to using their fists in arguments. Let me pour some water. We have liniment for the soreness. I’ll make your bed and you ought to lie down.”

“I don’t need coddling.” He sounded grumpy as an old dog that didn’t want a puppy bouncing around it.

“It’s the least I can do.”

He took a seat at the kitchen table while she gathered a cloth and the horse liniment. The warm water from the reservoir on the back of the stove would soothe his aching muscles. After she gathered the things she needed, Loyal pulled out the chair beside him and dipped a cloth in the water.

His mouth tightened when she blotted his face, especially around his injured eye. The bruises were frightful. More than once, he ducked away from her touch like she’d stabbed him.

“Hold a cloth with witch hazel against it. It should help the swelling.” She applied the herbal mixture to a clean cloth and pressed it into his hand.

“I’ve had black eyes before. It’s nothing.”

She noticed he didn’t refuse the remedy. “I know. I recall both of you coming around with black eyes more than once. It’s no wonder my father thought you were heathens.” She laid her hand on his ribs and he jumped. “I should make your bed. This would be easier if you were lying down.”

“I don’t need special attention.” He pushed her hand away and stood, barely suppressing a groan.