by Cheri Chaise
But with Cole, Evan, and the cousins heading out tomorrow to return Edna to town and take care of the land business, the next few days would present the opportune moment for Bret and I to sit down with Abby to discuss such matters.
If only it were that easy.
The scuff of boots and scamper of little feet put a momentary halt to my musings as Meghan came around the corner with Bret in tow.
“The dog is in the yard,” she cried out excitedly. “She wants something to eat besides jerky.”
“Oh, she does, does she?” I asked before wiping my hands on my apron to squat to my daughter’s level. “And what delicious meal does the newest member of the Carston family desire?”
“Uh…” Stormy eyes darted around the kitchen, landing eagerly on the cooling rack. “Cake!”
My brow hiked up as Bret and I shared grins – that turned into heated glances that sent me quickly seeking cover.
“Here,” I said, slicing off a generous and meaty piece from the bacon slab and wrapping it in a cloth before handing it over to Meghan. “She’ll love a juicy piece of bacon fat.”
“Thanks, Mama.”
“If she does, it’ll be proof she was meant to be a Carston all along.” Bret clutched our daughter’s hand and was dragged back outside to feed the dog.
“Hurry up, Papa!”
I flinched with the familial entreaty, hoping that neither of my kitchen companions paid it much heed. Though the term had been bandied about freely these last few weeks, I feared someone would catch on too readily.
Edna grumbled as she tittered about. “Don’t understand why you let them trample through yer kitchen so.”
For a second, I thought she’d figured out my secret, until I realized she simply meant someone like Bret – a savage. “This was Bret’s kitchen long before it was mine.”
“Well…I’m surprised you let yer children feed that dirty-lookin’ creature.”
At least this time I understood she meant the dog. “Bret said she’s tame…just timid. He thinks the dog was left behind by a family that moved through here.”
“Aren’t you worried it’s gone rabid? You don’t want yer babies to catch it, do you?”
“You can’t catch rabies,” I countered. “It’s passed through saliva.”
“Sa…what?”
“Saliva. Spit,” I clarified. “Besides, Bret’s kept an eye on her long enough that he says she hasn’t contracted it.”
Edna harrumphed. “Just looks so mangy and unkempt, it’s gotta have some disease.”
That time I only hoped she meant the dog. “She just needs a good wash in some nice, soapy water and a brush down.”
“She’s not the only one.”
I bit back the retort I had no doubt was directed at my dusky husband this time.
The whisk rasped loudly against the side of the bowl in the following silence as Abby finished adding ingredients and started in on the most arduous task.
“That’s it, with the wrist,” Edna finally approved. “Now you keep that up while I melt the chocolate.”
This time the silence was heavy. Pregnant with questions. And I felt every single one before Abby finally gave them voice.
“I’ve noticed that Meghan calls Bret papa quiet often.”
I stiffened before taking a deep and calming breath to ensure my response was steady. Although pinched. “The children call each of their uncles papa. Papa Drew. Papa Evan. Papa Bret. And Papa Cole.”
The whisking grew more fervent. “The question, I suppose, is why?” Why not Uncle Bret?”
“Oh…you know…,” I hesitantly stated, trying to come up with what sounded like a plausible explanation as I chopped away at the carrots with furious abandon. “With all of Cole’s brothers living here, Meghan was initially confused when she first started talking. Everyone was papa to her.”
“Maybe it’s time some of the brothers moved out on their own,” Edna proposed, stirring the cut up bricks of chocolate slowly in the sauce pan. “It’s not as if they all belong under this roof.”
I knew exactly who she meant. I stuck the knife in the cutting board and prepared to spin around to confront the old cook.
But Abby beat me to it. “Why do you feel the need to denigrate Bret so, Edna?”
The woman blinked as if surprised my younger sister would stick up for him. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish before a single word squeaked out. “I…”
“He’s incredibly intelligent. Giving.” Abby ceased whipping the cream for just a moment as a far-away and dreamy look came over her expression. “You should have seen him at the reservation, Edna, the way he cared so much for anyone who was sick or injured. The way he saved that sweet little boy’s life when we first arrived.”
“Keep up the whipping.”
Abby’s lips thinned before she attacked with the whisk again with renewed vigor. “He made the rest of us look like completely inept and posturing toadies.”
Edna gasped. “But my dear, yer a respectable lady.”
“What’s respectable about a lady without any usable skills and who cut herself the first time she held a knife that wasn’t from a proper place setting?” she asked, holding up her mostly healed finger with more than a little heat. “While Bret worked tirelessly to save people, I just spent my time there, twiddling my thumbs or drawing useless sketches of real, live people who did more in a day to help their fellow man than I have in my entire lifetime.”
“But…,” Edna sputtered. “But his father had his way with their mother. A child born of those circumstances can’t be trusted.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to right the misunderstanding of what had transpired between Bret’s father and the Carston matriarch. That there’d been no accosting or rape that resulted in Bret’s birth. That the love they shared was similar to the love I shared with their resultant progeny.
But I couldn’t bring myself to give voice to the truth that labored in my belly, waiting to burst forth with the cry of life – and I filled with shame that I couldn’t even bring myself to stand up for my husband.
Or our children.
So I simply let Abby do it for me. “Bret shouldn’t be held to account for his father’s vicious behavior. In the end, that man got the judgment he deserved.”
Edna’s hand slowed before she removed the pan from the stove with a contemplative set of her chin. “Yer right, Miss Abby. There’s many a man who’ve done a woman wrong in this world. Bret shouldn’t be judged by another’s misdeeds.”
And that’s all she said on the matter as slowly she added the chocolate to the bowl as Abby whisk away with renewed enthusiasm. A bright smile painted across her face.
A smile blooming with affection.
Affection for my husband.
My heart constricted. Was it unfair of me to keep all four of the Carston men to myself? Especially when there was another woman nearby who obviously cared for at least one of them?
With the certainty that Abby intended to stay and not return, and that she was trying so hard to do the right thing by becoming a woman of substance, maybe it was time I did the right thing too. Did right by the men I loved.
And let Bret go.
Chapter Thirty
Bret
The chaos of the last few weeks was almost over.
After a hearty supper and birthday celebration for Cole’s now three-year-old boys, everyone had settled into their respective after dinner activities. My brother made a ridiculous picture, as the broad-shouldered man played on the floor with the twins and their tiny new toy trains.
Evan rocked the evening away in front of the fireplace, drawing occasionally on his pipe and making smoke rings, much to Meg’s delight as she tried to catch them.
Drew hung out at the table, where Seth and Sean had set up a raucous game of poker and were trying their best to beat my brother at the game they’d apparently taught him while out together on the hay haul.
Abby came around the corner, drying her hands on a
towel before joining the three, glancing at one of the twin’s cards before lifting her chin to offer me a tentative smile. She’d been doing that often in the days since we’d returned from the reservation.
Yet another reason why Essie and I really needed to have that talk with her soon.
One right after the other, Seth and Sean folded with a smattering of muttered shits and damns. A new hand was barely dealt before the game was interrupted by a sneeze.
“Bless you, Sean,” Abby cried, reaching to touch my cousin’s forehead. “Are you feeling ill?”
Sean almost melted like a guttering candle when the soft, feminine hand slid across his face. “Not when you’re taking such good care of me. That cake was right satisfying.”
He rubbed his belly, even though I was sure he was ready to grab and pump his cock instead. At the lovesick look on his face, I half expected Sean to plop Abby right down on his lap and grind her unbustled backside against his hardened cock.
Instead she offered him an appreciative, though not adoring, smile. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”
“Especially that chocolate icing,” Seth said with a smack of his lips. “Boy howdy, I’ve never tasted anything that good.”
“Well, I can’t take all the credit for that. Edna took over the whipping after my arm gave out.”
I had to cover over my grin with a cough at the image of Essie bent over while I pleasured her with that riding crop. Even though it still somewhat disturbed me that I’d taken that road with her, the pleasure dripping down her thighs had been the one comfort I could take that she’d enjoyed it.
It appeared cake wasn’t the only thing my cousin enjoyed either as Abby continued to fawn over him. Too bad for him that her fawning was more out of concern instead of affection. Sean’s cheeks were all flushed as he leaned toward Abby to breathe in her scent – and coughed all over her instead.
Cole looked up from where he’d been playing with his twins. “You’d better not be getting sick, cousin. They’ll need your mark to claim that parcel, and we’re leaving out bright and early in the morning.”
The flush in his face had deepened to his neck. I went over to more closely inspect my cousin. “Open your mouth and let me take a look.”
“I’m fine,” Sean mumbled, his eyes now glassy.
I just quietly stood there and waited until my stubborn cousin did as I’d asked. This was not the time for familial dick measuring or spats. Not when our wife and children were at risk of possible illness.
I grabbed the lantern from the center of the table and had Abby hold it while I checked his throat. It was red and inflamed. Glands were swollen as I felt around his neck.
“He felt a bit warm to me,” Abby said, offering up her diagnosis.
But I had to concur. “Did it hurt during dinner when you swallowed?”
“Not much.”
Which meant it likely did – and much worse than he was letting on in front of the females. Essie came around the corner then, quickly followed by Edna, whose gaze darted away from mine.
“Is everything okay?” Essie asked. “I thought I heard coughing.”
“Think we’ve got a sick boy here.”
Sean pulled away from my probing hands. “Ain’t sick. Just a little scratch in my throat.”
“And coughing and sneezing with an obvious fever.”
“Do you think it’s something contagious?” Cole asked, coming up behind me.
“I’ll need to do a quick examination before I can determine that.”
“Now stop makin’ a fuss over me.” Sean lurched to his feet – and swayed Abby’s way.
But Edna got to him first and held him fast. “Now you just sit yerself right down here, young man, and do what the doctor orders.”
I was so stunned by the vote of confidence from the older lady that for a moment I didn’t say or do anything else.
Until my brain kicked back in. “I’ll need a bed.”
“Use mine,” Evan offered.
“Essie, can you get my medicine bag from the stables?” There were still plenty of things out there that would help in this situation.
“I’ll get it,” Cole offered, already donning his hat and coat to head outside.
Essie turned back toward the kitchen. “I’ll get some fresh water and cloths.”
“Let me help you,” Edna offered.
Seth came up alongside his brother and supported one side while I got the other to help Sean up the stairs. He wobbled and stumbled the whole way, growing more flushed and dragging with each step.
“Is he gonna be okay?”
“I’m fucking fine,” Sean muttered then stumbled along the smooth upper floor.
“Best case, it’s a cold. Maybe the flu.”
“Worst case?”
My lips set in a firm line. “We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.”
We got Sean settled into Evan’s bed before Seth stripped his brother. My worst fears were realized when I took in the splotchy red rash covering his neck and upper chest.
Scarlet fever.
“Seth, has anyone else in the bunkhouse been sick the last few days?”
“Not that I can think of.”
I chewed on my lower lip. “Well, we’ll need to take precautions. I need you to go and strip his bed and gather up all of his clothes and set them out back in the washing bin. Then get a fire started and fill the bin with water and lye soap.”
“Right.” He leapt up to do my bidding.
“And have all the other hands strip their beds and wash down the bunkhouse with a mixture of vinegar and potash before putting on fresh linens. Have Essie help you with the vinegar but she’s not to set one foot in that bunkhouse, do you hear me?”
“Will do.” Seth stopped at the door before glancing at his quickly deteriorating brother. “Will he be…I mean…will he…?”
I understood only too well how hard it was to talk about the worst possible outcome when it came to a loved one. “I’ll do everything in my power to take good care of him.”
A pause. Then a nod before he slipped out to see to his assigned duties. It was only moments later that I heard the familiar tappity tap of Essie’s hurrying gait up the stairs.
The door barely creaked before my bark bit. “Put everything by the door, Essie. Do not set foot in this room.”
Blue eyes blinked in the gap as I pressed a boot against the door to prevent further opening. A child with pneumonia was one thing, but I wasn’t about to endanger my wife or our child by exposing her to a disease that could quickly become an epidemic.
“I’ve brought cloths.”
“Leave them outside on the floor.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, just let me set them on the dresser.”
“It’s scarlet fever,” I rasped through the opening.
She sucked in a breath, those beautiful blue eyes reflecting my fears right back at me. Then hardened into resolve. “You’ll need help caring for him.”
I pressed my face deeper into the opening. “I will not have you place…” Another head appeared at the top of the far stairwell as Abby then Edna came upstairs carrying basins of water. “…your unborn child at risk.”
“But you can’t do this all by yourself.” Tears that pricked and plucked at my heart swam in her eyes as she searched mine. “You’ll wear yourself down and then you might…” Her voice drifted off, unable to speak of death just as Seth had done over his brother.
“I’ll help sit with him.”
The old family servant surprised me yet again as she strode up beside Essie with a basin of cool water. I was so astonished, I let her into the room before quickly blocking the way again before Essie or Abby faced exposure.
“Here’s what you can do,” I instructed as Edna took the other basin from Abby and I accepted the cloths Essie carried. “Make a pot of belladonna tea and have everyone…even the children…drink a cup.” Her wrinkled nose over having to drink the bitter brew would normally be an invitation for a playf
ul kiss – if the situation weren’t so dire. “Then send some up here and have Cole bring a fresh bedroll so Edna and I can take turns getting rest when we can.”
She nodded.
“Then get a large pot of boiling water and add some vinegar to it to sterilize all of the kitchen utensils and wash every plate and pan in hot, soapy water and vinegar. Twice.”
“We can do that,” she said between her and her sister, who nodded her assent.
“While you’re doing that, mix up a whole bunch more of that vinegar and water with a little potash that you use to scrub the house down in the spring. Then give some to Seth. I’ve already set him and the hands to cleaning the bunkhouse top to bottom.”
“We’ll help them with that.”
I resisted the urge to grab her arm to emphasize my point. I’d already touched the sickness by helping Sean up the stairs. “None of you are to set foot in that bunkhouse, do you understand?”
This time she didn’t argue, placing a hand over her belly as if to remind herself of why she had to resist her normal urge to be everything to everyone. “I’ll have them strip the beds and leave everything out by the wash bin.”
“Seth’s already taking care of that,” I finished. “Have Evan or Drew see to the washing.” Abby’s figure again drifted into my view. “Abby, you will need to immediately change your clothes and scrub your hands and arms up to your elbows.”
“My…my clothes?”
“Sean coughed all over you.”
Her jaw firmed in realization as she glanced down her frame. Her only response was a single nod.
The heavy clomp of Cole’s boots preceded his appearance. He’d been in such a hurry, he’d forgotten to remove his hat.
“I couldn’t find your medicine bag.”
My stare immediately darted to connect with Essie’s. I didn’t even have to voice the question before she anticipated me.
“I’ll see if I can find it.” She grabbed her skirts and hurried toward the stairs.
“Or just bring whatever you can find that might be useful up here.”
Abby followed her sister in a swirl and swish of skirts and disappeared below before Cole spoke again.
