Wilson's Hard Lesson (95 page)

There was an inquiry. No one could find the fire marshal;
the Saints swore up and down that he’d never arrived in their community to
search for us, and as far as anyone knew, he didn’t return to the Shenandoah
Valley either. Pastor Hofmann and the Anglican Curate vouched for our side of
the story; that was enough to secure our liberty.

“It is the opinion of the court that William Abelwolf was acting
in self defense, protecting his home, property and wife, when he shot and
killed Robert Benson. Therefore there is no reason for the territory to bring a
case against Mr. Abelwolf.” The district attorney read slowly from his document
before looking up at the Sheriff. “Are we agreed?”

The Sheriff nodded. “The way I see it, the man brought it on
himself.” He shook his head. “What he did to the dog was bad enough. A man like
that needs killing.”

William bowed his head. “Thank you, sir. Does that mean I am
free to go?”

The district attorney nodded. “Absolutely.”

My husband grinned from ear to ear. “Oh, thank God.” He left
the stand. I rushed into his arms and embraced him with all of my might.

“Thank goodness they saw reason!” I exclaimed. To the very
last moment, I’d been sure that somehow Robert Benson’s wealth and influence
would count against us; even from beyond the grave, surely there was a way that
he could make our lives miserable. But nothing had happened, and having been
cleared of responsibility for Benson’s death meant William could never be tried
on the matter again.

“And now I have to introduce you to someone very special,” I
said to my husband. I took him by the hand and led him to the back of the
courtroom, where my Father sat waiting. He’d been there for every day of the
inquiry; the contract Benson had forced him to sign had been entered into
evidence. “William, this is my Father. Papa, this is William.”

Father stood up. We’d been apart from each other less than a
month, but he appeared to have aged a full year. I didn’t remember him being
quite so short, or quite so frail. He extended his hand to William.

“It’s good to meet you, son,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t
get the chance to do so sooner, under more propitious circumstances.”

William smiled, and took Father’s hand. “Well, the
circumstances we have are much better than what they could have been, so I’ll
take them gladly.” He pulled Father into a hug and embraced him briefly; when
William stepped back, I saw tears in Papa’s eyes. “It is good to meet Abigail’s
father. You know she loves you dearly.”

“And I her,” Father said. “Signing that contract was the
worst mistake of my life. If I could change anything, I would have told Benson
to keep his damned money.”

“Well, all’s well that ends well,” William replied.

“I see Abigail’s been reading you her Shakespeare,” Father
said with a laugh.

“Most nights,” William agreed. It had become a treasured
part of our evening routine, as my husband and I would relax in bed together,
the lantern light just bright enough to illuminate the pages I read from.

“That’s what I miss the most, I think,” Father said. “I got
used to her reading me Scriptures on the Sabbath. She does a better job than
any preacher man.”

“You don’t have to miss it, sir,” William said.  “My farm’s
got plenty enough room that we could build another small house on it.” He
shrugged his shoulders and gave me a sly little grin. “Maybe even set you up
with another print shop.”

Father looked so surprised. “But I’ve no money to put toward
such a project,” he said. “Benson’s lawyers wound up taking the house, you
know. I am practically penniless.”

“The Lord works in mysterious ways, Papa.” The envelope
Benson had tried to tempt William with had contained more than enough money for
everything my husband proposed and then some. “All you have to do is say yes.”

“To be near my daughter once again is joy enough,” Father
said. “More than I deserve. Of course I’m going to say yes!”

“Nicholas Copernicus Abelwolf, get your hands out of that
ink right now!” My oldest daughter has a voice like a martinet; the strident
sounds of her outrage echoed through the yard with a power you wouldn’t believe
a four year old could produce. “Mama! Nicholas is bothering Opa!”

“Shush, shush,” I heard my Father say. “Don’t bother your
mother right now. She’s resting.”

“But Nick is going to make a mess,” Lydia protested. “He’s
got ink all over his fingers.”

“Don’t worry,” my Father soothed her. “I know what to do.
I’ve dealt with this before.” His tone brightened and I could imagine him
smiling, not all that far outside my bedroom window. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s
take care of your brother’s hands, and then we’ll all go see if any of those
blackberries your Father planted are ripe enough to eat yet.”

“Those are for pies,” Lydia said.

“Always law and order with that one,” William said.  He was
snuggled in bed against me, one arm thrown carefully over my swelling stomach.
Our third child was due to arrive soon, an exciting development that also left
me more than a little exhausted.

“I wonder where she gets that from,” I teased him. Having
relaxing moments with my husband was a rare treat these days; between the
children’s non-stop adventures, helping Father establish the region’s newest
print shop, and figuring out which two varieties of plums should be bred in
order to create a truly pox resistant cultivar, we barely had a second to
ourselves most days.

“Surely from you,” William laughed.

“I don’t think so,” I said, turning awkwardly to kiss him.
My gravid form left me far from flexible. “Get on this side,” I laughed and
tapped the bed. “So I can kiss you properly.”

“Your wish is my command,” he said, leaping deftly over me.

“Ugh,” I said, as he landing on the other side of the
mattress. “You’re as wild as the children.”

“Even more so, probably,” William agreed cheerfully. He
kissed me again. “There, is that better?”

“Much,” I said, and returned his kiss with one of my own.
“Much, much better.”

William’s kisses grew more passionate. He started to reach
for my breasts, stopping only moments before contact to ask “May I?”

“Clearly, you already have,” I said, rubbing one hand over
my belly. “Go gently. This little one is doing cartwheels.”

He smiled. “I’m not going to upset the baby.” He pulled down
the top of my chemise just enough to expose the swollen rounded tops of my
breasts, placing a gentle kiss on top of each one. “Or his beautiful Mama.”

“Believe me,” I said, running my fingers through William’s
soft golden hair. “You’re welcome to disturb me in that fashion any time you’d
like.”

“You say that, but you know the children will come bursting
through the door the minute we begin to…disturb each other.”

“Opa has taken them down to pick blackberries.” I smiled.
“They should be gone for an eternity – maybe even an entire half-hour!”

William laughed. “You are incorrigible.” He kissed me again.
“How did I get so lucky?”

“I ask myself that same question, every single day.”

“You need to tell that husband of yours to come up with some
other way of describing his findings than all these confounded charts!” Father
looked up from his letter press tray, clearly annoyed. “I’m getting old,
Abigail. I can’t even see eight-point type anymore.”

“Have Nicholas help you.”

“He’s too young.”

“He knows all his numbers now,” I said. “It’ll be good
practice for him.”

“And what if he makes a mistake?” Father shook his head. “I
know how William needs every detail of this work to be correct.”

“We’ll have Lydia proof it,” I replied. “You know nothing
will get by her sharp eyes.”

“Never mind her eyes,” Father said. “It’s her ears I worry
about. I unwrapped a peppermint and that child appears out of nowhere.”

“Children are like that, Papa,” I said with a laugh.

“You were the same way,” my Father said. “I remember.”

“I’m glad you’re here to see the children growing up,” I
said. “It means a lot to William and I both.” One of the mysteries that
remained between William and I, even at this late date in our marriage, was who
and where his family were. I knew him to count himself alone in the world, but
just as spontaneous combustion didn’t really happen, children did not spring
into existence without a parent or two along the way.

“I’m glad of it too. I’m glad you’ve lived long enough to
have children. William is good to you.” He shook his head. “That Benson beast –
when I think of what you escaped!”

We’d all learned the truth about Kitty Benson’s
disappearance while her husband’s estate was being settled. Her bones, along
with another set believed to be that of her would-be lover, were found locked
in a stout leather trunk marked Benson Trading & Exchange, Limited.

“All’s well that ends well.” I tried to comfort Father. He
spent far too much time worrying over what might have been, instead of enjoying
what was.

“Shakespeare. That at least I did right.” Father smiled.

“You did a great many things right, Papa.” William walked up
behind us, resting his hand on my shoulder. “You raised a strong girl into a
beautiful woman. You did the best you could to protect her through the years.
And now you’re here to guide and look over your grandchildren.  Not every man
gets so much.”

“I’m sure I don’t deserve so much,” Father said.

“You do,” I protested. “Every bit and more.”

William wasn’t the only one to find their way into the print
shop. Nicholas toddled in as fast as his legs would take him, followed closely
by big sister Lydia, who watched over him always like a mother hen.

“What’s going on in here?” she asked, looking at us all in
turn, suspicion in her eyes. “Are you having peppermints without us?”

We laughed and assured her that no, we weren’t. Then of
course, Father had to search for a candy to satisfy the treat. I took William’s
hand and watched the proceedings with a smile on my face. Despite a rocky
start, life had turned out pretty sweet after all.

By: Tanya Rutherford

A Mail Order Bride for the Lonely
Widower

© Tanya Rutherford, 2016 – All rights
reserved

Published by Steamy Reads4U

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or reviews.

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, businesses,
places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s
imagination or used in a fictitious manner.  Any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental.  This book is
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Warning

This book contains explicit content intended for readers 18+
years old.

If you are under 18 years old, or are not comfortable with
adult content, please close this book now.

Anna got back home from her dull nine to five job at the
office and kicked off her shoes. She’d bought them especially for work, when
she was first awarded the job after her successful interview two years
previously. She’d imagined that she’d get used to wearing them, that they’d
‘break in’ or whatever it was her mother told her. And yet, somehow, two years
down the line, she still found them painful and almost intolerable to wear. The
skirt and suit jacket too, weren’t exactly her style. The fabric itched at the
back of her neck and her tights always seemed to end up hanging halfway down
her legs by the end of the working day, to the point where she couldn’t wait to
get changed and into something comfortable and relaxing once she got home. It
wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy dressing up and wearing feminine clothing
occasionally, just not itchy skirt suits that made her look about ten years
older.

Arriving home at her small but cosy city apartment that
Friday night, she immediately kicked off the heels at the door and then padded
through to the bedroom to get changed. She didn’t have to go to work the next
day, so she hung the suit up in the wardrobe and put it away, glad to get it
out of her sight for the next two days until Monday. She tossed her shirt, bra
and panties into the wash and then fumbled around naked, searching through her
cupboards and closets until she found something clean and comfy to put on – her
favorite onesie.

With it zipped up right to the top and feeling like a cute
little teddy bear, Anna went back into the main living room/kitchen area and
grabbed herself a can of coke from the fridge before carrying it over to the
couch and sitting down. She wasn’t planning on doing very much for the next
couple of days. The weekends were her time to herself. She didn’t really have
many friends outside of the work environment, and she wouldn’t even call her
work mates ‘friends’ more just…colleagues. They never saw each other on
weekends or in the evenings but had a civil and friendly relationship during
office hours. Anna didn’t really mind. She didn’t even know whether she had
anything in common with the people at work and she wasn’t prepared to find out.

A couple of them had occasionally asked her to go for a
drink with them, but Anna had been unsure whether she was being invited in just
a friendly capacity or whether it meant more than that. She’d heard plenty of
bad things about office romances and wanted to try and avoid them wherever
possible. There were one or two guys who were relatively good looking, but the
majority of them just weren’t her type at all, and then she had to cross off
all the ones who were already married, or had a girlfriend, or ones who were
gay. It didn’t leave her with many choices.

She did
want
to find a partner at some point; someone
to fall in love with, settle down with, have a family with. The dream.

But Anna wasn’t entirely sure that dream actually existed.
Certainly not for her, and certainly not in that office she worked at.

So, being cautious about getting drawn into a disastrous
office romance, and only seeing potential in one or two of the guys anyway, she
had avoided all requests to go out for drinks after work, even if there was a
group of people going. Partially, that was her own anxiety beginning to kick
in, and part of her felt as though she was using the office romance thing as an
excuse. She’d always found it difficult to socialize in large groups and
occasionally felt crowded or stressed in crowded bars and clubs, so the
majority of the time it was just easier to say no.

This did mean, however, that it was especially hard for her
to make actual friends outside of work, even girlfriends. She missed having
someone to just pop out to the mall with and do some shopping, or to talk about
guys, or have movie nights. She’d lost touch with everyone from college after
they all graduated, got jobs and settled down with their partners. Anna had
done the first two, but had spectacularly failed in the latter.

 Now, at 28, she was starting to doubt her choices in life
and wished she’d settled down with her long term boyfriend at college when
she’d had the chance. Perhaps they’d still be together now with a couple of
kids. He’d always wanted to go in that direction but she’d been reluctant to
commit, wanting to put her career first and focus on that, and had broken it
off. She’d dated one guy since, for about six months, but that was it. It was
hard to establish relationships with her schedule. It was hard to even meet
anyone in the first place seeing as she never went out. The only people she
interacted with were her work colleagues and the cashiers at the store where
she bought her groceries once a week.

 Anna sighed and took a sip of her coke. She turned on the
television, switching off her mind a little as she changed channels and tried
to find something to watch. There was a documentary on about adopted kids and
she ended up leaving it on. She’d considered adoption before now, but it’d be
hard to fit a child in with her schedule without someone else to support her.
Her dreams of having a family were on hold, probably indefinitely, seeing as
she was never going to actually meet someone to settle down with.

She watched the adoption programme, ending up with tears in
her eyes. She’d always been really soppy when it came to things like that. Then
she changed channels and found a movie to watch, getting up to make herself
some food and continuing to watch it from over in the kitchen while she cooked
up something simple.

The rest of the evening passed by in a similar, relaxed
manner and she went to bed around eleven thirty, tired after a full week at
work and looking forward to a lie in.

Every Saturday was the same for Anna. Saturday was her
shopping day. She would wake up around ten and laze in bed for half an hour or
an hour, until she was really hungry and couldn’t wait any longer. Then she’d
get up and go through to the kitchen and make herself some breakfast while
writing down a list of things she needed to get from the store.

After breakfast, she would shower, get dressed and head out
to the store. She had such a routine going that she even knew some of the staff
by name, because it was the same people that worked every Saturday. She
recognized them, smiled at them. She wandered around the aisles picking up
everything she needed, and always bought a state newspaper at the counter on
the way out so she could try and keep up with everything going on.

When she got back home, she would unpack the food, make
herself a cup of coffee, then sit down and read the paper. Because she’d had a
late breakfast, she normally skipped lunch on a Saturday in favor of having an
early dinner around 5.

That Saturday was set to be no different to any other.

Everything had gone exactly the same as it always did, and
Anna settled down with her newspaper, curled up on the couch with some quiet
music on in the background, and she started to read.

She had almost finished the paper when she saw it. She’d
gotten right through all of the main headlines and stories and articles, and
was at the back near the sports pages. That was the point where she normally
folded it up and put it down, as she wasn’t that interested in sports.

The adverts page.

She nearly always had a glance through it, just to see if
anyone was selling anything cheap that she might be interested in, although
she’d never actually ordered anything. This one time someone was advertising
for a housemate in an apartment closer to her workplace than the one she was
currently occupying. She’d been tempted to contact them, but again, her social
anxiety had gotten the better of her. What if they had nothing in common? What
if they were horrible?

The same thoughts ran through her head as she stared and
stared at the words of the advert now held directly in front of her eyes, her
hands gripping the newspaper tightly and somehow unable to tear herself away
even though she told herself she was stupid for evening considering it.

‘Wife Wanted’ said the little headline at the top in capital
letters.