An Unexpected Dilemma Bride_Family of Love Series_A Western Romance Story

by Elliee Atkinson

  “Oh?” Joshua gave him a look. “And what would that be?”

  Nate raised one eyebrow. ”Uhhh, maybe the beautiful and gentle widow, Mrs. Youngblood?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Everyone can see you’re interested in the woman. You’re terrible at hiding it.””

  “Yeah, she’s beautiful, but it’s way too soon for anything like that. I’ll just be around until we figure something out. I’ve got some people to check on in Louisville and I think they might be able to give us some answers.”

  “Why would they know anything about this?”

  “They work with poisons and all that kind of stuff. Chemical stuff, you know, like scientists. I’m smart, but they are the real smart ones.”

  “I hear that. Well, I hope they can help us. Right now, I have no idea what’s going on. I’m just along for the ride at this point. I do have to say though; I hope we figure it out soon. I have a feeling something else is going to happen. Dunno what. Just a feeling.”

  Joshua jostled from side to side when the wagon wheel went into a rut in the road. He balanced himself and looked over at Nate. “Do you feel like that a lot?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So you trust the feeling when you get it?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Okay, we’ll just see what kind of information we can get and get back here as quick as we can.” Joshua was quiet for a moment, thinking. “We’ll stay at my house, unless you want to stay at your place.”

  Nate shook his head. “Not at my place. No thanks.”

  “My place isn’t big, but it’s big enough for us.”

  “It’s only one night,” Nate said in an amused voice. “We’re not moving in together.”

  Joshua laughed. ”You want to stop at the Horse N Saddle and get a beer and a bite to eat before we go? We could talk to Sam.”

  “I like Sam.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Yeah, let’s do that. When does a sane man turn down a beer? Never, I say. Never.”

  Laura woke up that morning with a headache. She massaged her temples with her thumbs as she sat up. She wished she could say good morning to James. Regrettably, when she had that thought, she also thought it would be nice to say good morning to Joshua. She wondered what he was doing, if he was awake or not.

  She took her time getting out of bed. She smelled coffee and knew that breakfast was being made. James had often made her breakfast. A few times, he had even brought it to her. He was a wonderful cook. He taught her a few of his tricks. However, she would never be as good as him. He did mention once that he enjoyed going to the Whitmans’ because they had someone to do all the work for them. The housekeeper doubled as a cook, so Cynthia rarely had to make food.

  Samuel definitely wasn’t the type to make food for her. There didn’t have to be an occasion for James to do something sweet. He randomly picked days out of the month to surprise her with all her favorite things to eat. He had learned to dance just so that they would be able to have their first dance as a couple when they got married. He had taken control of her father’s estate when the old man’s mind began to decline and he’d taken care of everything when he died. Gentle and compassionate, he was.

  Laura missed him so much that it ached. Her heart felt squeezed and she let out a deep sigh. Tears immediately came to her eyes as her husband’s face passed through her mind.

  “James…” She sat up and covered her face with both hands. “James, I miss you so much.” She let her tears fall and sorrow overwhelmed her. Her shoulders shook as sobs racked her body. She lifted the blanket and pressed it against her wet face. “James… James…”

  If only they’d been able to have children. That would make this heartache less. Or would it make it worse? Her child would grow up without a father. If they’d had children, would he even be dead?

  Questions swirled through her mind. She didn’t want to think them. She wanted to talk to Joshua or Adam about them. Preferably Joshua.

  One of the strangest things was that Cynthia and Samuel had never been able to conceive either. When Laura took a step back and looked at the situation, it seemed more likely that they rarely had relations. It was not that way with her and James. They had tried frequently, praying and hoping for that little child to come along.

  However, no child ever came.

  She sighed, gazing through the window. She wasn’t getting younger. She was almost past her prime to have children. She wanted to have them while she was still young enough to play with them and have fun with them. She didn’t want to be tired and cranky all the time.

  Would she ever have children of her own?

  Have to find a new husband first, she thought. And are you really ready for that?

  She shook her head. Maybe someday. Maybe even someday soon. But not yet. She couldn’t allow it. She turned her head and looked at the table next to the bed. The journal was in that drawer. All she had to do was pull it open and read what was in it. She had only hesitated so far because she felt so guilty about having taken it in the first place. It was his private thoughts. Did her suspicion of him justify what she was doing?

  He was sure to miss it soon, if he hadn’t already. However, there had been a lot of people at the wake and she doubted that he would suspect her.

  She dried her tears and allowed herself to think about solving the case rather than how much she missed her husband. She went to the desk and picked up the book. She sat back down on the bed after opening the drapes so that more light would fill the room. She opened the book, but she couldn’t see the words on the page. There still wasn’t enough light.

  She glanced up just in time to see the knob on her door turning and the door swinging open. She shoved the book under her pillow and dropped down as if she was still sleeping. Her heart thumped in her chest when she saw the hairy knuckles of a man come through the door and push it open slightly. It was followed by Samuel’s face peering around it.

  She tried to calm her breathing, wondering whether he had seen her sitting up. She tried to be still and breathe silently.

  “Laura?” He was trying to see if she was awake. She kept her eyes closed, but was able to peek through her eyelashes. She saw his shadow pass her bed. He was holding a lantern. His breath was coming and going quickly. She could tell he was nervous. It couldn’t be fear. What did he have to fear from her?

  She breathed steadily, as if she was sleeping, ignoring the thumping of her heart in her chest. He moved around the room, opening and closing drawers, looking behind curtains and around the cushions and chairs. He made a low grunting sound that Laura took as frustration.

  When he swayed back and forth, turning to go back to the door of her room, she caught the distinct smell of liquor. Samuel was drunk. She’d seen him drunk before. She’d even seen him drunk and angry at Cynthia. Never at her. If he directed his anger at her, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to defend herself against him. He was a strong man. Drinking made strong men even stronger. He would crush her.

  She’d always felt peace staying with them before. He nearly always slept late, not rising until the sun was far above the distant mountains. She could easily hear the noise he made when he was in such a state. Throughout the evening, as he drank, Cynthia would complain to him in a tone of voice that got higher and higher in pitch as the night wore on.

  When she stayed with them, Laura always stayed in the same room. Now, she spent a lot of her time curled up on the bed, thinking about how her life would be changed now, how nothing would ever be the same. The future she once thought she would have was destroyed. Everything she wanted, everything she’d hoped for, gone in an instant. The thought made her want to cry again, but she didn’t want Samuel to know she was awake.

  He finally made it back to the door without dropping the lantern or bumping into anything. She was surprised by how quietly he left.

  Laura frowned as he closed the door. He was searching for the book. Not finding it made him upset, almost to the p
oint of crying. She didn’t know if that was because of the liquor or if he was genuinely sad it was gone. What is in that book? she thought.

  Her conscience fussed at her. It probably wasn’t right to read through something that personal, something that would make Samuel cry over losing. How could she know there was anything that would make that man cry? He was so angry all the time, so bitter and resentful. All she knew was that his negativity was overwhelming.

  She worried for another moment about how Samuel must have suspected her. Otherwise he wouldn’t have come into her room to search.

  She should have told Joshua. He would know what to do. He would keep her safe.

  I’m going to tell him, she thought. I’m going to tell him next time I see him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A LITTLE LIGHT READING FOR LAURA

  A LITTLE LIGHT READING FOR LAURA

  As soon as the door closed, Laura sat back up. She waited for a moment. She slid to the side away from the door, pushing her feet into the slippers she’d brought with her. She took her robe off the hook by the closet door and slid it over her shoulders before she stood. She leaned back and pulled the journal out from under her pillow.

  She went to the window and pushed through to the middle of the drapes with the book clutched between her shaking hands. She turned the pages, trying to decide if she wanted to start from the first page or skip to the last few months. She noticed that he was a talented artist. He had sketches of the land around his house, the house itself, some plants and vegetation and even some people from town, their expressions always in the form of laughter.

  That surprised her. He seemed like such a negative man, yet he drew pictures of people who were happy. She moved on until she caught sight of her own name.

  I swear if that woman says anything else about Laura, I will put a gun to my head, she read. She is so angry, so jealous and why does she take it out on me? What did I do? I have only tried my hardest for that woman. She never gives me a chance. She just keeps nitpicking me and I am going to lose my mind if I have to take it much longer. It’s been going on for years. When will it end? I don’t want to live the rest of my life like this. I’m so unhappy.

  The handwriting changed from one page to the next. Sometimes it was straight and legible. Usually it was not. It was slanted, written by the hand of a man whose brain was swimming in alcohol. She read through some more of the journal and saw more bitterness toward Cynthia. She read about the little things Cynthia did to annoy him. One thing she noticed about the book over everything else was that Samuel never mentioned James.

  Until she reached the last five entries in the journal.

  Just before James was killed, Samuel questioned whether his wife might be having an affair with him. Laura’s eyes opened wide and she sucked in a sharp breath.

  There was no way. James would never have put a hand on that creature. Laura was overcome by jealousy and anger. She wanted to run from the room and confront Cynthia, throw the book in her face, maybe hit her with it. Whatever she had to do to make the woman pay for her sin.

  Then she thought again. Just because Samuel suspected something like that didn’t make it true. Far from it. Samuel was already an angry man. If he thought his wife was doing anything, it would be something bad. He wrote that she had been at James and Laura’s a little too often and that James was always there. He didn’t like it.

  Laura shook her head. Samuel knew he was always invited if he wanted to visit. Laura wiped her cheeks with the side of her robe. She took a few deep breaths and forced herself not to cry. She would need better proof than the word of an angry man.

  I cringe at the thought of them together, she read. Even though she will not let me touch her, I still don’t want anyone else to have her. Why would he want her? What would attract him to Cynthia when he has Laura? He doesn’t need my wife. He has a beautiful woman of his own. I like Laura. I wonder if I should tell her.

  Laura stopped reading again, her opinion of Samuel slowly changing. She read through some more of the book, looking for her husband’s name or her own name, but mostly seeing what she had thought was an angry, mean man turn into a sad, depressed, anxiety-ridden old soul. She began to feel sorry for him. When she put the book down, her hands were shaking. She didn’t want to read any more. He wasn’t as angry as she’d thought. He was sad. He was bitter toward his wife and the world in general. His problems didn’t just stem from marrying a woman he didn’t get along with. He had deeper issues. She could tell by reading it. He hadn’t enjoyed life from the time even from a young age, apparently. He wrote eloquently when he was sober. When he was drunk, it was too hard to read, but he still had a way with words. Laura was impressed. He was a writer, too. He’d never told them. She looked up at the wall opposite her, not really seeing it.

  He was a writer too.

  She supposed that might be a reason why he would want to get rid of James. He was jealous that James made money with his writing. Nevertheless, he’d never even mentioned that he could write at all. She’d had no idea before reading the journal. If he had been jealous all these years, he hid it extremely well. She’d never even seen Samuel give James a cross look.

  Realization spread over her. Before his death, she and James had invited the Whitmans for dinner. She saw Samuel looking at James in a strange way that night, but had forgotten about it as soon as the night was over.

  Laura wrapped a cloth around the book and knelt down to push it under the side table. The legs were very close to the ground and completely hid the book. Samuel wouldn’t see it if he came in. Neither would the maid or Pam. She planned to come back and get it later.

  She poured water from the pitcher into the porcelain basin and dipped a cloth into it. She pressed it against her closed eyes and dabbed her cheeks with it, trying to ease the headache. Then she pulled a brush through her hair, pinning it back. She didn’t want to dwell on her losses. She didn’t like being an unhappy woman. She was used to smiling and being happy. She wanted to be her old self again. It had been almost two weeks. How long would she feel this way?

  What would her next plan be? Would she tell Joshua what she knew now? She had already decided that she would. She wasn’t going to back out now.

  Laura had always known that Cynthia was competitive, even they were children playing in the school yard. It seemed that at a certain age, Cynthia had learned how to hide her true nature. She continued competing with Laura on nearly every level. Laura often thought it strange that Cynthia hadn’t purposefully gotten pregnant, done everything she could to make it happen simply because she knew how much James and Laura desired a child.

  After she was dressed and presentable to the public, she went downstairs to the dining hall. Samuel was there. Cynthia was not. For the first time, Laura wondered how she could get rid of the book without Samuel knowing she had it. She looked up at him innocently.

  “I do hope you slept well.” She wondered if he had already started drinking. He looked sullen but not completely unpleasant.

  “I did. And you?’

  “I often have trouble sleeping. I trust it was warm in your room?”

  “I did sleep well, thank you, Samuel. I dreamt of James. And I dreamt about stars and frogs and butterflies.”

  He looked up at her over his newspaper, dropping it slightly so he could see her. “Really.”

  “Yes. It was nice.”

  “You are having pleasant dreams despite the fact that you lost James so recently.”

  Laura blushed. “I…I…”

  “You don’t need to explain yourself,” Samuel said, shaking his head. “I think it’s a good thing that you can do that. Many people cannot accept the death of someone they loved. Especially a spouse or a child. It drives some people crazy. You are handling it well. I’m glad to see it.”

  Laura’s blush deepened. He had not been drinking. He was being sympathetic and kind. She licked her lips and blinked at him. “Why thank you, Samuel. I… I didn’t expect a complime
nt like that from you.”

  Samuel shook the paper. “I call it like I see it, my dear. I know the two of you were really happy together. I… I had my doubts about him sometimes, but all in all, you were in love with each other.”

  “Yes, we really were.”

  ”And I know he loved you. He told me all the time.”

  “He did?”

  Samuel nodded. For the first time, she saw a smile creeping onto his face. His eyes were sympathetic. “He sure did. But you knew it. He told you all the time too.”

  Laura giggled. “He did. I’m so glad he did.” She reached out to pour herself a cup of coffee and snag a biscuit from the basket.

  “He was a proud man. Proud to be married to you. I wish I could say the same thing. I wish Cynthia was proud to be married to me.”

  “I know you do.”

  “Why doesn’t she love me, Laura?”

  It was an unexpected question. Laura stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. “I suppose she loves you in her own way, Samuel. It’s just not a very nice way.”

  “I don’t know why you’re friends with her,” Samuel said, pulling up the paper so it hid his face from her.

  She looked at the back of the newspaper and thought, Sometimes I don’t know why either.

  Laura took several bites from her biscuit and washed it down with the coffee.

  Samuel lowered the paper and looked at her again. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I reckon I do feel okay right now,” she responded.

  “I have something to tell you. But you have to be strong if you want me to tell you. You have to brace yourself.”

  ”Oh?” She knew what he was going to say. He was going to tell her about their spouses and what he thought was happening behind her back. She didn’t want to hear it. She wanted to prove him wrong.

  ”If you think I should know, then go ahead and tell me. What is it?”