“August?” She laid her hand over his. “You look like you’ve been poleaxed.”
“That’s…Jeremiah’s—” The wind roared in his ears and he stepped back, struggling to calm his heart and the emotions pummeling him. Jeremiah’s intended, his baby, his farm. His world. August was an intruder with good intentions.
It should have been his brother standing there, rejoicing in his child’s movement. Sharing the happy moment with the woman he loved. Hot tears burned August’s eyes. He pressed his hand over them, although he failed to stop the one carving a path down his cheek.
“August.” Loyal cupped his face. “Look at me. What is it?”
He avoided her gaze, clenching his jaw. Bad enough she had to wipe away his tears, he’d be damned if he’d tell her he missed his brother.
Proof of your ma’s infidelity. No boy of mine would act like a bloody milksop! Stop your whining, or I’ll give you another lick with my belt. August flinched as his father’s words echoed in his head.
“I miss him too,” Loyal whispered. Her eyes glistened with moisture. “There’s no shame in your feelings. You don’t have to hide them from me.” She slipped her arms around his waist.
August stiffened at her touch. His arms hung by his side like broken limbs on a tree. Loyal’s face pressed against his chest. Giving in, he embraced her and lowered his head so his chin rested on top of her head. He closed his eyes, listening to his heartbeat, the birdsong over their heads in the trees, the sheep bleating, and horses’ snorts. All around them life carried on. Like the one growing inside her.
August held tight, lifting a hand to bury his fingers in her silky hair. A little sob shook her frame. He choked down the lump in his throat. For years he’d imagined holding Loyal, except never at the expense of his brother’s life.
“I’d do anything to put this right. To give your baby the father it deserves.” He blinked away the dampness in his eyes. All the thoughts he’d gone over instead of sleeping at night surfaced. “I’m sorry I’m not Jeremiah, Loyal. If I’d been here, he might be alive. I could have helped him get the mower out of the mud. Could have driven it instead.”
“You couldn’t have done a thing. It’s no use wondering what might have been. I’ve spent hours thinking about it many times. It won’t bring him back.” She raised her head, looking up. “He would hate to see us cry.”
“I’m not—” August swallowed.
“There’s no one here but me. Tell me how you feel.” She stroked his back, her touch firm and comforting. “You don’t have to be ashamed that you miss him.”
If he’d died when the saw blade sliced into his leg, Jeremiah wouldn’t have hidden his sorrow. Why their father’s cruelty had darkened August’s life, but had seemed to blow past Jeremiah like dandelion fluff was something he’d never figured out. It was easier to build a hard shell and shut out the good in the world than suffer disappointment when it slipped past his fingertips.
He feared if he told Loyal how much he regretted leaving, she’d demand the truth about his absence.
“Please, August. You never talk. You never tell me what you’re thinking. We’re married, we live in the same house, we’ll raise a child together, yet you keep everything locked away.”
She held him, her grip a line in the turbulent sea where he rocked.
“When I came home, I saw what he had. This farm, you, a baby on the way. He had everything he wanted. Then a piece of equipment crushed him. It doesn’t make sense, but what does? When I was a boy, our father would beat us because there was no money to buy more whiskey. I knew God didn’t care whether we lived or died. When I read your letter, I thought it proved I was right. Me, I’d never die because I was too ornery. God claims the good souls too soon and lets the devil have the rest. I don’t deserve to take what was his, to have all the luck while he rots in a grave.”
She shook her head. “God doesn’t do that. Your father was a terrible man. Anyone with an ounce of courage would have taken the two of you in. He threatened everyone who offered to help after your mother died. God didn’t take Jeremiah because he was too happy, just like he didn’t take your father away because he was too mean.”
He shook his head. “Why would he let me have this? I’m not a good man. How could someone like me ever take care of a woman like you? Jeremiah could have the farm and a good name, all the prosperity that comes with both. If there was ever one thing I hated him for, it—dammit, it should have been me.”
He bit his tongue, forcing himself to look away from her. For a long moment, she was quiet and her posture turned rigid.
“It was me,” Loyal whispered. “I drove you off, didn’t I?”
His mouth tightened, and he hated himself for making her guess the truth.
“I took him away from you. I’m sorry, August. Those things you did were to get his attention. It wasn’t because you learned them from your father, was it? Jeremiah was so sure he could win my heart, he ignored you.” Fresh tears beaded in her eyelashes. She wiped them away. “We all made mistakes, but you and I can forgive them. I’m sorry I ignored your pain. I’m sorry I didn’t realize how much you needed Jeremiah. I’m sorry your father was a beast and—and I’m glad he’s dead.”
Loyal had it wrong. She still didn’t realize they’d fought about her, but how could she when he wouldn’t admit he loved her? He’d never be able to now. He didn’t want the truth about the fight coming out.
“I’m sorry for you.” He took her hand and lifted it, pressing a kiss against her knuckles. “You loved him and he’s gone. No one can replace him.”
She blinked, clearly surprised by his lips on her hand. Her breath came in quick gasps. “I have something to tell you.”
* * * *
Loyal’s heart beat in an uneven tempo. She stared up at August, licking her lips, measuring time so she could get her words right. What would he think when she told him she hadn’t loved his brother as much as Jeremiah loved her? That was the real reason she’d waited so long to be with him, and the only reason she’d agreed to a wedding was the baby. She missed him and she’d loved him in her own way, except she never believed they were perfect for each other. Jeremiah had never set her soul on fire, hadn’t made her ache for caresses the way August’s touch did.
August’s brow wrinkled. “What?”
She’d badgered him into telling her how he felt and what she’d discovered surprised her. He blamed himself for leaving Jeremiah to run the farm on his own, the same way she blamed herself for not insisting he hire help.
“I loved him, but…” She hung her head. “I did. And I feel his loss like a toothache, nagging and always there. He was my best friend, my champion.”
“I know. I wish I could fill the hole.” He pulled her closer. “Time will temper the hurt.”
“He was shelter and comfort. The things a woman desires from a man.” She was doing a poor job of expressing her thoughts. With every word, August tensed a little more. “I don’t know if he knew how I—” She bit her lip, too much of a coward to continue.
“He did. He knew you loved him, Loyal. How could he not?” August’s eyes were sad, swirling with a dark shadow.
Liar, liar, liar, she thought, hating herself. It had seemed impossible that she’d ever find anyone as devoted as Jeremiah. Especially because of the circumstances. August had accepted them and made the best of it when she asked for a marriage in name only.
With that condition, she’d ruined her chances of ever claiming his love. He saw her as a friend, the way she’d viewed Jeremiah. A little bit at a time, she was falling in love, and she couldn’t tell him. If he learned her heart betrayed his brother’s love, he might hate her. The farm and her baby were his duty, an obligation he’d shouldered. She couldn’t afford to lose the income. More importantly, she didn’t want to lose him.
“We’re terrible messes, aren’t we?” She wiped her tears away again. The secret was close to her heart. It could easily remain hidden. “I think Jeremiah would be pr
oud that you devoted yourself to things he loved. I’m honored you want to help raise the baby.”
He scowled. “What sort of man would I be if I didn’t?”
“You have a good heart. It was just hidden away so it wouldn’t be hurt. I understand.” She laid her hand on his chest. The scent of cut wood filled her senses. It shouldn’t surprise her that he smelled like the forest. Hard as an oak, tall as a mighty pine, his embrace was strong. Unshakeable. “Would you…would you kiss me, August?”
There were dozens of reasons why he wouldn’t. She was pregnant, she was previously promised to his brother, he wasn’t attracted to her, and so many more. Just as she opened her mouth to tell him what a ridiculous idea it was, he lowered his head.
It wasn’t the same as the kiss they’d exchanged when they married, a quick brush of lips over their cheeks. Nor like the one she’d placed on his forehead weeks ago. His mouth covered hers, hard and wanting. A spark rushed through her, curling her toes inside her shoes, leaving her lightheaded. He kissed like a man too long gone without affection. She returned it because every nerve insisted. Loyal melted against him, as much as her stomach would allow. She ached for his touch. He must have known because his hands slipped down her back, cupping her bottom.
His arousal pressed against her and it relieved her to know he found her desirable. She’d never suspected kissing him would make her feel so alive.
August pulled his mouth away, and their eyes locked. They were both breathing a little hard.
“Loyal, I—”
She pressed a finger against his lips. “You’re not doing anything I didn’t want. I asked, and I wouldn’t say no if you’d do it again. Any time.”
He looked surprised. In a heartbeat, his mouth shifted into a half-smile, so she removed her hand.
“Is that so?” he asked.
“As long as you understand I did love him, and I’m not trying to replace him.” She looked away.
If he was disappointed by her reasoning about kissing, he didn’t show it. She wanted to ask if he’d join her in the master bedroom, not for lovemaking, but so she could curl up with him at night. She trusted him and he comforted her.
She couldn’t find the nerve. “I’d better let you go back to work. I’m almost finished with the mattress.” She disentangled herself from his arms and regretted it immediately. Something about August’s touch felt so right. Perhaps it had to do with the changes in her body.
“If he moves again, can I have another feel?” He nodded toward her stomach.
She tilted her head. “He?”
“Or she. Makes no difference.”
“Really? Which do you think would be easier to raise?”
He smiled again. “Boys are troublemakers. You ought to realize that by now. I think we’d have it far easier raising a girl.”
“Seems you’ve forgotten what a trial my father found me.”
August shook his head. “Not a trial. You wanted different things. It’s understandable that you wouldn’t see eye-to-eye. Not when you were being courted by one of the infamous O’Dell brothers.”
“Well, now I’m married to one. It would be a great deal easier if he would accept it. I’m not sure I can forgive him for trying to talk me into giving the baby away.” For trying to sour me on you.
“Give him time. He’ll understand one day.” The hard set of his jaw meant he didn’t believe it, only that he was saying it for her good.
She didn’t believe it either, not really.
12
Wind rattled the window panes and rain pounded on the roof. Loyal studied the sky through the kitchen window, frowning at the black clouds. Mid-summer storms usually didn’t bother her. The worst weather came when seasons changed. It seemed warming or cooling air brought tornadoes. They’d had heavy rain all day with high winds, but she hoped the weather had already done its worst.
The back door closed with a bang, startling her. She dropped a saucer into the soapy water in the basin. August stood on the rug, his tan shirt plastered against his shoulders and chest.
“Got the sheep rounded into the smaller pen with shelter. The horses and cow are in the barn. Double-checked the chickens. Everything’s squared away outside.”
“You’re drenched. You’d better get out of those clothes and settle by the fireplace.” She dried her hands on a towel and watched him walk across the floor, the hems of his pants leaving wet trails.
Loyal followed him to his bedroom. He peeled his shirt off, dropping it near the foot of the bed. Goose bumps dimpled his arms and chest. Gloriously strong muscles rippled as he opened the bottom of the trundle bed for a bath sheet.
Something flat and wrapped in brown paper tumbled to the floor when he lifted out a towel.
“What’s that?” she asked.
He looked up and smiled, although it was a little guilty. “A surprise I was saving for a special occasion.”
“Which occasion?”
August shrugged. His shoulders rolled with fluid motion. “I hadn’t made up my mind yet. It’s for you. Open it now, if you like.”
“You got me a gift?” She reached for the package. Flat, longer than it was wide. Heavy and thick. She knew by the shape, it contained books. Pulling the string loose, she unfolded the paper and held up a slender volume of poetry. “Books. How sweet.”
He wiped his neck with the towel. “I didn’t know if you’d like these in particular. It didn’t seem right that you didn’t have any. We can always get more.”
The way he suggested it, it sounded as though he was willing to fill the shelves with novels if she asked. It was a simple gesture, which made Loyal feel special—loved. He was right; Jeremiah had never acknowledged her pleasure in reading and she hadn’t mentioned it for fear of seeming frivolous. They needed other things more than books.
“Thank you, August. It was very nice. I’ll enjoy reading them.” She held them close, brushing her fingers over the smooth covers. “I still can’t believe you remembered.”
His half-smile made him look boyishly charming. “Hard to forget after all the times I tormented you about them.”
What had changed? She’d never imagined him giving her books, but she was glad he had. “Let me dry your hair,” she offered. After setting the books aside, she took the cloth. “Take off your trousers. No sense sitting on the bed in wet ones.”
He gave her a long look.
“I’ve seen a naked man before. I’ve seen you in less than you have on now.” She put her fists on her hips.
“I’d prefer my wife look at me in my birthday suit under different circumstances.” His tone was dry as he rubbed his arms where gooseflesh pebbled his skin.
“Picked quite the time to become shy, didn’t you?” She unfolded the towel. “I won’t look if it makes you nervous. You can wrap this one around your waist and I’ll use a different one to dry your hair.”
He reached for it and their fingers brushed. “I’m not shy. I just thought it would be more polite if I undressed alone.”
“For heaven’s sake, you’re chilled to the bone and worried about propriety. I wonder how many women have seen you without clothes.” She shook her head. “I’ll turn around if it makes you feel better.”
She did, but had the perfect view of his body from chest to hips in the mirror mounted on the wall. He fought with the buttons on his trousers for a moment before succeeding in pushing the soggy material apart. The weeks since she’d rubbed liniment into his knotted muscles had whittled him into a leaner man. Strange, because he had the appetite of a starved orphan, although he was muscled like a bull in his shoulders. Even with her weight gain, he could probably lift her easily over his head.
The mirror didn’t show anything below his pelvis and the dark hair curling there. He turned when he removed his pants, giving her a chance to look at his bottom. Loyal’s breath caught. Pale as his skin was, it didn’t detract from the play of muscle in his behind. Eyes wide, Loyal couldn’t look away.
The crisp wh
ite towel encircled his waist. “Enjoying the scenery, Mrs. O’Dell?”
He fairly purred with amusement, the faintest hint of Irish brogue in his voice. Heat crept up her face and curled through her veins.
“I didn’t see anything, if you’re worried. The mirror’s at the wrong angle.” She faced him again. “Sit down and finish drying. Then I’ll hang your clothes by the fireplace.”
He lowered himself to the mattress. Thunder rumbled overhead. They both looked up as it shook the walls. “The wind is worrisome. It might cause a few tree limbs to break tonight.”
Loyal bit her lower lip as she covered his head with the towel. One of her favorite trees near the house was an old silver maple. Jeremiah had threatened to cut it down several times because termites had gotten into the interior, but she’d begged him to keep it because it provided good summer shade. She hoped it wouldn’t sustain any damage.
She rubbed the towel in small circles over August’s scalp. Moisture soaked into the towel, dampening her fingers. After a minute or two, she pulled it away and laughed at the spikes of hair standing up on his crown. His mouth stretched into a straight line, although from the way his eyes shined, she knew he was fighting a smile.
“Let me smooth it down before it dries that way.” She leaned close, combing her fingers through his locks, forcing the hair to lie flat. “Much better.”
Loyal looked down, her hand resting on his head. His face was inches from her belly, eyes wide.
“Oh, forgive me. Sometimes I forget it’s there. I suppose it won’t be long before it’s always in the way.” She took a short step backward, but he caught her wrist, holding her in place.
“You carry it well. I mean, you don’t look too large. Too big, ah, I mean…” He let his fingers slip from her arm.
She pursed her lips. “Like a cow ready for slaughter?”
“You don’t look like a cow. You’re beautiful.” He leaned back and blinded her with a genuine smile.
“Beautiful?” she repeated, pressing her hand against his forehead. “You’ve caught a fever, haven’t you?”
The Wrong Brother's Bride Page 11
