Disgust mixed with her anger. Jeremiah had set August up for the crime by stealing his hat and the horse he rode. All his talk about mending old hurts and asking August to come home was lies. She shuffled to the rolltop desk, pulled out the chair and sat, rubbing her forehead as she read the bill again.
Pulling the farm ledger from the drawer, she opened it. A few months ago, it had been filled with Jeremiah’s handwriting, although the most recent entries were August’s. She flipped to the first month he’d arrived, noting where he’d added money he’d saved to the standing bank account. She turned the pages back to the very first entry in Jeremiah’s rough scrawl. It matched the bill of sale amount to the last cent. The next entry was a down payment for the farm. Bile burned her throat. She’d never guessed Jeremiah might have been dishonest. He’d hidden his deception behind the smile she believed was for her and his pride in a job well done.
“Oh, Jeremiah, what did you do?” It would have been a natural mistake for Albert Carroll to think August had taken the cows if he saw Jeremiah. Their hair had been the same color, their builds very similar.
Her former fiancé’s betrayal curled around her heart. She’d believed he was one of the most honest men she knew. Papa had warned her that Jeremiah wasn’t a good person and she’d ignored his advice. What sort of man framed his brother while making off with another man’s livelihood?
August had no idea Jeremiah had framed him. She recalled the sorrow on his face when he admitted his regrets about not returning sooner. If he had, and Mr. Carroll had recognized him, would Jeremiah have admitted his crime, or let August suffer in his place?
Loyal rested her forehead in her palm, offering thanks to the heavens. This paper meant one thing. August was coming home.
* * * *
August closed his eyes, blocking out the sight of the ceiling he’d stared at for a week. Outside, he heard hammers pounding gallows together. The noise made his head swim. From the wooden structure, he would take his last walk, his last look at Springfield, and the people who had condemned him. Clark Stine had been by with his condolences and listened as August dictated his will. He didn’t have much except money he’d saved from his time with the lumber company, his horse, tack, and clothing. A sad legacy for the child he already loved.
“O’Dell. Visitors.”
August thought about remaining where he was. What was the point in getting up? He could lay on this uncomfortable wooden slab until the executioner came for him. The only words he wanted to hear were, “you’re free.” The chances of that happening were nonexistent.
“August?”
He lifted his head at Loyal’s voice. Stine stood beyond the bars, but Loyal came through them first, a smile on her face. Not a forced smile or one containing impossible hope.
“What are you doing here, sweetheart? You shouldn’t have made the trip. You need to rest.” Seeing her would only make saying his final good-bye harder. Stine had given Gideon a letter asking the preacher to make sure Loyal stayed away the day of the hanging.
“We’re getting you out. I’ve found something that proves you’re innocent.” She sat beside him and kissed his cheek despite the beard covering it.
It took a moment for her words to sink in. “What?”
Her smile faded. For a moment, he wasn’t sure she was going to tell him, then she took his hand and a deep breath.
“Jeremiah had a receipt in his hat. I never thought about looking there, but it fell off the peg and there it was. I imagine he didn’t intend anyone to find it. When I picked the hat up, I felt something strange inside the band. No, it wasn’t an accident it fell. It was a miracle.”
“A receipt? For what?” Puzzled, he held her at arms’ length. Her face was radiant even without the smile. Clearly she believed he’d be a free man. He couldn’t risk an ounce of hope. Judge Geiger’s sentence still echoed in his head.
“Mr. Carroll’s livestock,” Stine answered. “It’s the proof we need to clear your name. We’ll take it in front of the judge when he returns Monday, and you’ll be free.”
August almost choked. He was dreaming, the way he had most nights—a doomed man’s fantasy. Suppose Judge Geiger thought the receipt was a forgery? Or that Loyal had made a mistake. Unlikely as it seemed, it was possible Jeremiah had purchased the cattle elsewhere and sold them. Dizzy from the revelation, he drew in a deep breath.
“Where would he get the receipt? He didn’t…you’re not accusing him of stealing the cattle?”
Loyal smoothed his hair back. “The receipt is real. I know it’s hard to believe Jeremiah would do anything so devious, but there’s no other explanation. You know he didn’t own cattle. Mr. Stine talked to the bank owner. He wouldn’t lend the money unless Jeremiah could come up with a down payment. Remember how surly he was in the fall? He was so focused on finding ways to buy the farm we could barely talk to him. Mr. Carroll had purchased the Herefords in the spring, and he told everyone how much they were worth. I think, because he was angry with you, that he saw an opportunity to make the money he needed and use your reputation at the same time.”
“That’s impossible. He asked me to come back a dozen times if he asked once. He’d have known I’d be arrested if Carroll found out I was back.” Numbness spread throughout his body. “We always looked out for one another. He wouldn’t have set me up.”
“I’ve seen his signature too many times not be certain about it. Mr. Stine has the receipt locked in his safe until you go before the judge again. Believe me, you’re coming home.” Loyal clutched his hand. “This time Tuesday morning, you’ll be eating breakfast in the kitchen.”
Home, a place built by money stolen from another man. August didn’t want to believe it, but disbelieving meant they had no proof to set him free. His mind reeled.
“It’s alright, August.” Loyal hugged him and he rested his head on top of hers. “I know it’s a lot to take in. You loved him.”
“He lied so he could purchase land. I can’t think—why would he do that?” His voice sounded hollow in his ears. Bitterness lanced through him, stabbing his heart. The brother he’d loved, the man he thought he knew so well had betrayed him for money. Jeremiah was no better than their father, who stole and lied every day of his miserable life.
“We may never know the real answer. It’s enough for me that you’re coming home.” She twined her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.
Cool fingers soothed his hot flesh, although her touch did little to ease his anger. A jolt of realization hit him. He pulled away from her embrace. “What if I hadn’t gone?”
She didn’t answer for a moment. Sorrow etched across her face. They both knew if he’d stayed, he would have been tried and hanged years ago for the crime. His brother wouldn’t have revealed the truth, not after going out of his way to frame August. Not if he meant to keep Loyal’s love.
“I asked myself the same thing. There’s no explanation. I’m sorry for Mr. Carroll because everyone says he’s had terrible luck since the cattle were stolen, but I’m so happy your name is clear.”
“Did you suspect? You said you were uncertain about marrying him. Did it have anything to do with this?” He wasn’t sure he could stand hearing it if she had.
“No, August. I never for a moment considered he hadn’t gotten the money honestly. I wouldn’t lie about that.” She clutched his hands, eyes wide and frightened. “Please believe me.”
He nodded. “I know you wouldn’t lie.”
Relief washed over her features. Loyal hugged him so hard, he wasn’t sure she’d be able to pry her arms away. “You’ll be home soon. We’ll celebrate.”
August looked up at Stine. The attorney nodded, a smile transforming his serious face. “You’re fortunate to have such a dedicated wife, Mr. O’Dell. Very fortunate, indeed.”
* * * *
Emotions mixed inside August as he gazed at the farm from the wagon seat. It was entirely different than the evening he’d sat atop his horse, looking down at th
e hay ready for mowing. On one hand, he’d been afraid he’d never see the place again. He’d grown to love it and considered it his home. On the other, it was in his possession by ill gain. Judge Geiger had accepted the receipt as proof of August’s innocence, but he’d also ordered reparation of five hundred dollars paid to Carroll from Jeremiah’s estate. The monetary loss would set them back a little, though it was a small problem compared to the one he’d faced a week ago.
Loyal’s hand lay on his thigh, a possessive gesture that spoke of her fear that he might vanish if she wasn’t in contact with him. He understood it well enough. He never wanted to let her out of his sight again.
“Welcome home.” Her smile warmed the cold worry coursing through him.
The corn crop was nearly ripe and he wasn’t sure how much time they had before the first frost came. “Looks like it’s time for another harvest.”
Loyal frowned. “You come straight home from jail, and the first thing you say is about work?”
He offered a half-hearted smile. “I supposed I could do with a bath, a shave, and some fresh clothes.”
“And a good meal. Your clothes are hanging off of you.” She plucked at his shirtsleeve, demonstrating how loose it was. He didn’t mind the fuss—he’d missed her cooking.
Looking at the fields again, sorrow washed over him. “Does it bother you, knowing a man’s life was ruined in order to buy the farm?”
“No.” Loyal shook her head. “You’re not allowed to feel guilty because of what Jeremiah did. It was despicable. We’ve paid the price for his actions. It almost cost your life. I can’t bring myself to hate him, but I hate what he did. He used you, August, and perhaps he kept us apart. We’ve overcome this. I believe we can overcome anything. The crops, the animals, the land don’t know what we’ve suffered. It’s time to make new memories.”
Her words were balm to his wounded spirit. “Do you think he ever felt regret?”
Loyal looked down at her stomach. “He couldn’t keep a secret so dark and not have it eat at his soul. He must have realized the truth would come out someday. I don’t want to believe the man I almost married would put his brother in jeopardy. I don’t know the truth. I wish I could do something to ease your pain.”
He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “It’s enough that you believed me.”
“What you said about loving me since we were children, it was true too, wasn’t it?” She held his gaze as he nodded.
Admitting it wasn’t easy, but she deserved an answer. The time for secrets was well past. “From the moment you showed me you were as good at climbing as any boy. I couldn’t find a way to tell you. Every time I tried to say I thought you were pretty, or I wanted to kiss you, my mouth seemed full of pond mud.”
She arched a slender eyebrow. “Finally, an explanation about all those long, strange looks you gave me.”
“Jeremiah had plans for the farm, for a future. I didn’t have any, couldn’t hold a candle to him.” August rubbed his sweaty palms against his denims. “You never once looked at me as though I was someone you could picture in your future. I don’t hold it against you.”
Loyal rested her head on his shoulder. “If you’ll let me, I’ll make it up to you. My own stubborn ways kept me from seeing what my heart truly wanted. I love you, August.”
August tipped her face toward his. “I love you too. I think I’d like that a great deal, Mrs. O’Dell.”
Epilogue
August squeezed the tin mug in his hand hard enough to dent it. He paced across the kitchen floor, glanced out toward the barn and strode to the other end of the room, where Loyal lay in labor inside the bedroom. Hot water steamed in the reservoir and he’d folded and refolded clean unbleached towels a dozen times to occupy his hands. Making coffee had seemed like a reasonable task afterward, but it tasted off. It was early morning, the sun just cresting the hill, and Loyal had asked him to go for the midwife before she ever got dinner on the stove the previous evening.
He had no patience. He wondered if Loyal was alright, whether the baby was coming soon, whether the ordeal would be over before Christmas. There were chores waiting, though he feared if he left the house, he’d be needed.
Sorry lay in front of the stove, wagging his tail each time August made another pass. He sighed, seeming exhausted by August’s pacing. His head jerked up, ears pricked forward and eyes riveted on the door. August froze.
At first, he wasn’t sure about the squall that came from the crack between the door and baseboard. It almost sounded like an angry cat, but then he knew it was a baby. Their baby.
Sorry whined and scratched at the kitchen door. August couldn’t move. Sweat broke out on his forehead and his hands trembled. Crossing the floor, he hesitated outside the bedroom.
He caught the midwife’s soft, encouraging tones, and finally heard Loyal’s voice. His heart jumped, beating twice its normal rate. What was taking so long? The cry became muffled, and at last the door opened.
“Mr. O’Dell, we’re ready for you here.” The older woman smiled.
“Are they alright?”
“Loyal did well. The baby is a good size, such pink skin, lungs clear and loud. I’m sure you heard,” the midwife said. “Get in here and meet your child.”
August didn’t waste any more time. His breath caught when he saw Loyal holding the baby, and he drew up short. She raised her gaze and smiled. Damp ringlets curled around her face. The smile she wore was blinding—he wouldn’t have guessed she’d just labored to bring a child into the world.
“Come see your daughter, August. She wants to say hello.” Loyal pulled the blanket away from the baby’s face. Tiny light curls covered the child’s head.
He settled on the edge of the bed and reached out, then drew back. His hand would surely dwarf her, maybe even cause damage to her delicate skin. “She’s so small.”
Loyal passed her hand over the baby’s head, shaking her head even as she smiled at his doubt. “You brought a foal into the world without a second thought. This baby is strong like you. You can touch her.”
The baby squirmed and turned her face toward him. Her little nose wrinkled as she looked up at him. August ran his finger over her cheek. It was softer than kid leather.
“You did good, Loyal. She’s beautiful. Truly beautiful.” He was proud of them, although he was only the baby’s surrogate father. He couldn’t have been prouder if she was his.
“Would you like to hold her?” She smiled and extended her arms. “Go on, take her.”
Uncertain, yet unable to deny Loyal’s request, he positioned his arms so she could transfer the baby into his embrace. A five-pound sugar sack had more substance than the baby. The instant she was settled in, warm against his chest, August fell in love. It was too early yet to know for certain, but he thought he saw Jeremiah in the baby’s features.
The days when he’d experienced jealousy over his brother’s good fortune were gone, though he allowed himself a moment of sadness because Jeremiah would never know this little girl. Any doubts he’d had that he wouldn’t be able to care for a child vanished as he stared down at the scrunched red face.
“What are you going to call her?” He watched Loyal. The love he felt was mirrored on her face.
“What do you think about Eliza?” She laid her hand on his leg, eyes hopeful.
“It’s pretty. Your mother would be honored.” Turning to the baby, he smiled. “Welcome to the world, Eliza O’Dell.”
The past that had overshadowed the farm and the regret for the things he’d done in his youth faded as August took in his future with Loyal and their daughter.
Allison Merritt
History is a huge part of Allison Merritt's life. For her, there's no better time than the 19th century to set up a love story. Even better if she can corral the characters so that they fall in love in a setting she loves. The land and houses located inside the boundaries of Wilson's Creek National Battlefield are the inspiration for The Wrong Brother's Bride. Allison s
pends hours hiking the trails, observing wildlife (and being frightened by sneaky turkeys pretending to be the ghosts of Civil War soldiers), and getting her feet wet in Wilson's Creek.
The Convict and the Cattleman
His love is the key to her release.
Sentenced to seven years of servitude in the penal colony of New South Wales, Bridgit Madden is thrust into a world unlike anything she's known, dangers she never imagined and enemies with their own interests at heart. Certain the conviction has ruined her chances of ever having a real family, she is fearful of her future.
Despite his reluctance to take in a convict, grazier and pioneer cattleman Jonah Andrus needs a servant to care for his orphaned niece. When presented with Bridgit, who is far too beautiful and distracting, he initially tries to refuse. However, with a busy cattle station to oversee, he needs help right away.
Upon her first meeting with Jonah's niece, Bridgit immediately falls in love with the baby and hopes to unravel the mystery surrounding her birth. As she gets to know her employer better, Bridgit makes it her mission to remind him that family is priceless. When it seems as though she might have found the place she truly belongs, their love is threatened by lies and deceit, and both of them might lose everything they hold dear for a second time
Lyrical Press books are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2013 Allison Merritt
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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First Electronic Edition: May 2014
The Wrong Brother's Bride Page 19
