“Yesterday. It was a small wedding.”
Two bright-red spots appeared on Catherine’s cheeks as she tried very hard not to stare at Julia. “Oh. I thought she might be a babysitter you hired to take care of Patty Ann.”
When no one commented—since there was no question, so therefore no answer—she said, “Well, if you will excuse me, I’ll go get Patty Ann for you.”
Once she left the room, Fletcher turned to Julia. “That’s strange. Catherine is usually much friendlier and loves to sit and chat for a while.”
“When you sent the wire, you didn’t tell her you were married?”
He shrugged. “I thought I did. Maybe not. I was just anxious to let her know I was coming.”
Sometimes men could be so dense. If Catherine was not in love with Fletcher, she was very close to it. Her reaction to him having a wife was not just surprise, but unhappiness. Julia hated to be the cause of the woman’s distress, but there wasn’t anything to be done about it now. However, since Catherine was Laura’s sister, she and Fletcher must have known each other for quite some time. If nothing had developed between them before now, it wasn’t Julia’s fault.
At least that’s what she told herself to quell the guilt.
Fletcher hopped up and paced. Despite her nervousness, Julia sat very still on the sofa. One of them needed to appear calm, and it was apparent introducing his daughter to his new wife had Fletcher a bit jumpy.
“Papa!” A little girl with dark blond hair fastened in braids, the hazel eyes of her father, and a huge smile on her face, bounded into the room, throwing herself into Fletcher’s arms. She wrapped her arms and legs around his body, and he pulled her close. The look on his face as he hugged his daughter had Julia blinking back tears.
Catherine followed the girl into the room and took a seat near the fireplace, turned away from Julia, focusing on the reunion between father and daughter. Her look of longing convinced Julia she had been right. Catherine was in love with Fletcher and probably had hoped being a temporary mother to his daughter would turn into a permanent one.
Despite the fact that Catherine obviously disliked Julia, or at least her position as Fletcher’s wife, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the woman. Julia knew only too well the sting of rejection.
“Honey, I want you to meet someone,” Fletcher said to Patty Ann as he dropped her to the ground. Putting his arm around her slender shoulders, he moved her toward Julia.
“This is your new mother. I married Julia yesterday, and we will all be a family now.”
The little girl leaned back against her papa. “I don’t want her to be my new mother.”
Speaking of rejection…
“Patty Ann, I don’t like that. That’s not a nice thing to say.”
Patty Ann crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t understand why Aunt Catherine can’t be my new mother.”
All three adults sat in silence, casting uneasy glances at each other. Fletcher went down on one knee and took Patty Ann’s small hands in his large ones. “Let me explain it to you, honey. Aunt Catherine has done a very good job of taking care of you, and for that I am very grateful. I am fond of Aunt Catherine, but Julia is my wife and she will be your new mother.”
“Why can’t Aunt Catherine be your wife?”
Catherine made a strangled sound and fussed with the bun at her nape.
“No, sweetheart. It doesn’t work that way. Julia is my wife, and that’s just the way it is.”
Catherine hopped up, two bright-red dots on her cheeks, her hand grasping her collar. She hesitated for a moment, then said, “If you will excuse me, I’ll see to packing Patty Ann’s things.”
Not sure what she could do with herself but certain she no longer wanted to remain while Fletcher and Patty Ann worked this out, Julia walked to the window. She studied the last of the dried leaves drifting from the large maple tree outside the window, wishing she could cover her ears like she did when she was a child. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t block out the conversation between father and daughter.
“Patty Ann, you can’t decide who I marry. I’m fond of Aunt Catherine, but I don’t want to marry her.”
“Why not?”
“Because that decision is mine, not yours. There are many reasons why a man wants to marry one woman and not another. Adult reasons that children don’t need to know about. Now, I want you to go help Aunt Catherine finish packing. But before you do that, go tell Julia you’re sorry for embarrassing everybody.”
Julia groaned inwardly. All she wanted to do right now was leave this house and get on the train. But, instead, she turned to Patty Ann and smiled.
The little girl hung her head and spoke to her shoes. “I’m sorry for embarrassing you.”
Julia knelt and paced her hands on the girl’s shoulders, ducking her head so she could see the girl’s face. “I’m sure you’re scared at having a new mama, and I can understand you wanting Aunt Catherine, who you know and love very much. But I will try very hard to be a good mama to you.”
Patty Ann used the heels of her hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. “Do you like little girls?”
“I do. I have five younger sisters.”
“Five?” Patty Ann’s eyes widened, and she held up five fingers. “Do they live with you?”
Julia shook her head. “No. They live far away from me, and I miss them very much. I would really like to have a little girl to take care of. Maybe if you don’t want me for a mama, we can just be friends.”
“Julia—” Fletcher said.
Julia held up her hand to stop him. The best thing at this point was to get out as quickly as possible to allow Catherine time to regain her dignity. It was obvious to Julia that Fletcher had no idea whatsoever how Catherine felt about him and what she apparently had hoped for.
“Why don’t you go help your aunt finish packing? I think she would like to see you by yourself before we leave.”
Patty Ann tilted her head and furrowed her brows. “Maybe I will like you after all. But just not as a mama.”
Julia bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Patty Ann spun around and raced from the room, her braids flying.
“She’s a sweet little girl, Fletcher.”
Chapter Eleven
“She’s the devil’s spawn, this child.” Miss Ambrose grasped Patty Ann under her arm, the poor child dangling a few inches off the ground.
“I don’t think that’s a very kind thing to say about one of your students, Miss Ambrose.” Julia retrieved the child from the woman’s grip and pulled her to her side. “She is only seven years old.”
“I caught her fighting in the play yard with two boys. She blackened their eyes!”
Julia had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. Little Patty Ann was a bit of a challenge. After having lived with her aunt, who seemed to be very sedate and a true lady, it amazed Julia how rambunctious her stepdaughter was. It was almost as if the little girl had to make up for the months behaving herself with Catherine.
Miss Ambrose drew in a deep breath, her bosom heaving. “Mrs. Adams, if you would dress the girl appropriately perhaps she wouldn’t be so wild.”
Patty Ann looked up at Julia with those big hazel eyes that gripped her heart and made it so difficult to clamp down on the girl. She was really a minx, but an adorable one. From the time she’d arrived at their home, Patty Ann had balked at wearing a dress. Julia would select a freshly washed and ironed dress for her to wear to school, and unbeknownst to her, the little girl slipped trousers under her dress, rolled up above her half boots. Weeks had gone by before Julia had caught on to what she’d been doing.
“I understand your concern, Miss Ambrose. I promise she will try to do better.” She gave her stepdaughter a stern look. “Isn’t that right, Patty Ann?”
She cast Miss Ambrose a truly angelica look. “Yes. I will try.”
“And that look does not fool me one bit, girl,” the teacher groused.
Julia looked a
t Patty Ann’s slumped shoulders and lowered head. The poor girl had gone through a difficult year. She placed her palm under Patty Ann’s chin. “Patty Ann, go on into the kitchen. I have a glass of milk and two cookies on the table for you.”
Her bright smile warmed Julia’s heart. Once the little girl had entered the house, Julia turned to the teacher. “I can imagine how difficult it is for you to deal with Patty Ann, but she has had a hard time of it lately.”
“There is no excuse for behavior such as—”
“—her mother died only about seven months ago. My stepdaughter spent most of that time with her aunt in New Jersey. She’s just now home with her father and me, and it will take some time for her to adjust.”
The teacher sniffed. “It will do the child no good if you offer excuses for her behavior.”
“I’m not offering excuses, I assure you, but I do think she needs time to adapt to her new circumstances.”
“I think the sheriff should give her a good spanking. That would help her adapt.”
Anger flashed through her. She was beginning to lose her patience with this woman. Spanking a child when trying to make her feel wanted would defeat the purpose. She often thought the reason she couldn’t countenance spanking was the easy way her parents had raised her. Their home was a noisy, boisterous place where the children were much loved.
Hugs were plenty and spankings were few. Each child had responsibility for the next youngest. Except Julia who was the oldest, so she helped her mother oversee them all. What Patty Ann needed was a brother or sister.
She sighed inwardly. Fletcher had remained adamant that he wanted no more children. Even though they had consummated their marriage, he always used something he told her would prevent her from becoming pregnant. She’d found a box of Dr. Power's French Preventatives in his dresser drawer when she was putting away clean laundry, which was what she’d assumed he used.
Her thoughts returned to the teacher, who still went on about the horrible things that would happen to Patty Ann if she wasn’t brought under control. Tired of listening to her dire predictions, Julia took the woman by the arm and began to walk her down the front steps.
“Thank you so much for coming by, Miss Ambrose. I will take Patty Ann’s behavior up with the sheriff when he comes home.”
The woman tugged on her coat sleeves and nodded. “I certainly hope so.” She wagged her finger. “And if she continues on this way, I may have to make a visit to the sheriff myself. Although I’m sure he’s very busy.”
Julia patted her on the arm. “You can be assured I will tell him the minute he walks in the door.”
Appeased, the teacher left, still mumbling to herself.
Julia returned to the kitchen and sat next to Patty Ann who had already consumed her afterschool snack. “What were you and the two boys fighting about?”
Patty Ann lowered her chin and shrugged.
Julia ducked her head to look into the girl’s eyes. “Patty Ann?”
“They said my papa was stupid for marrying up with you because you’re a cripple.”
Her head snapped back as if she’d been slapped. If she lived to a hundred, she would never understand people’s cruelty. Obviously these children had heard this from their parents.
“Who were these boys?”
“Ronald and Jimmy Johnson.”
She should have known. Probably still feeling the sting of her rejecting him after he’d rejected her, Mr. Johnson had done a good job of poisoning his sons’ minds. And why would two boys pick on a little girl? From what she’d heard, the Johnson boys were both older than Patty Ann. Instead of dragging her daughter here and chastising her, Miss Ambrose should have been talking to the horrible Mr. Johnson about his two bullies.
She would, indeed, talk to Fletcher about Patty Ann’s behavior. And how two boys had insulted her. Remembering the teacher’s comments, she said, “If you were fighting with two boys, how did you manage to give them black eyes?”
Patty Ann narrowed her eyes. “Are you kidding? They sure don’t know how to fight.”
“How did you learn to fight? I’m sure that’s not something your Aunt Catherine taught you.”
“Nah. Papa and I used to wrestle all the time. That was before ma—”
“I understand.” Julia placed her palm on the little girl’s head. “If you ever want to talk about your mama, I’m willing to listen.”
She nodded but remained silent.
“Honey, I will have to tell your papa about Miss Ambrose’s visit. Even though Jimmy and Ronald said mean things, you can’t fight with them.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Julia cupped the girl’s chin and moved her head back and forth. “Looks to me like they got a few punches in.” Her cheek had a red bruise that could very well turn into a black and blue mark. Anger flooded her, thinking about this poor little girl being picked on because of something she had nothing to do with. If Fletcher didn’t go talk to Mr. Johnson, then she definitely would. The man was raising two bullies, and he needed to do something about it.
Fletcher read the telegram he’d received from the Hamilton sheriff as he walked from the jail to his house.
WILL NEED YOU TO TESTIFY WHEN CIRCUIT JUDGE COMES STOP
SHOULD BE IN A FEW DAYS STOP
He folded the missive and stuck it into his pants pocket. As he opened the front door, the smell of something wonderful assailed him, reminding him what a wonderful idea it had been to marry Julia.
Her cooking was near the top of his list of reasons why he was satisfied with his marriage. She was also smart, funny, intelligent, and so far she’d been a wonderful mother to Patty Ann. He frowned. Since her return home, the little girl had seemed more rowdy than he remembered. But then Laura had dealt with her more than he had.
His and Julia’s time shared in the marriage bed had been satisfying, as well. Although a virtuous young woman, she’d learned quickly and enjoyed his attentions. Much more than Laura ever had. Yes, married life suited him just fine.
Julia tilted her head to the side to receive his kiss on her cheek as she stirred the soup that bubbled in a pot on the stove. Feeling playful, he cupped her face and turned her head, his mouth covering hers hungrily. The spoon clattered to the floor as she ran her palms up his chest, encircling his neck, giving as much as taking from his kiss.
He pulled her closer, feeling her soft breasts crushed against his body. His hand slid down her back to her bottom, nudging her against him, moving his hips in such a way that she moaned into his mouth. He released her and kissed her jaw, ear, the sensitive skin beneath her ear.
Julia felt as though her knees had turned to water. She was ready to rip their clothes off and drag him into the bedroom. Then she remembered there was a little girl in the house, sitting on her bed, waiting for her papa to talk to her. She gently pushed on Fletcher’s chest. “Stop. Patty Ann is in the house.”
Panting, he rested his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes. “Damn.”
“Indeed.”
“Later.”
“Absolutely.”
Julia bent to pick up the spoon. “You have to go talk to our daughter.”
He pulled out a chair, turning it so he straddled it. “What did she do this time?”
She rinsed the spoon off and laid it alongside the stove. “Fighting.”
“How the hell—”
“Language,” she tsked.
“—can she get into so many fights?”
Julia sighed. “I think Mr. Johnson’s sons have been picking on her.”
“What? They have to be at least ten or eleven years old. She’s barely seven.” He stood and pushed the chair in. “Did she get hurt?”
“She has a slight bruise on her cheek, but from what her teacher told me—and I don’t like that woman at all, Fletcher—Patty Ann gave both boys black eyes.”
A grin broke out on his face. “You don’t say?”
“Fletcher!”
“Sorry.” He fought t
o contain his smile. “I’ll go talk to her.”
Entering his daughter’s room, she looked so little sitting on her bed, legs crossed, her elbows resting on her knees. “Hi, Papa.”
“Hi, sweetheart.” The mattress dipped as he sat alongside her. “What happened in school today?”
“We learned about Christopher Columbus.”
“Patty Ann…”
She sighed. “I got into a fight in the play yard with Ronald and Jimmy Johnson.”
“Why?”
“’Cause they said you were stupid for marrying a cripple.”
His gut tightened at his daughter’s words. That rotten son of a bitch and his two rotten sons. It was bad enough Johnson was still referring to Julia as a cripple, but now he had his sons picking on his daughter at school. Well, it was time for him to make a little visit to the mercantile and put the fear of God in the man.
“Honey, you know Julia isn’t a cripple, right?”
“But she limps.”
He pulled Patty Ann onto his lap. “When Julia was a little girl, probably about your age, she was run over by a wagon that broke a couple of bones in her leg. Because her family had no doctor nearby, her mama did the best she could to fix her up, but the bones never healed correctly. That’s why she limps. But, believe me, she can run circles around most people.”
“Poor Julia.”
“No. Poor Ronald and Jimmy.”
She frowned.
“Julia has a family who loves her. Ronald and Jimmy have a father who says mean things about people. Mr. Johnson was the one who first called Julia a cripple. The boys picked that up from him, and if they keep saying nasty things about people, they will have a difficult time in life. No one likes a mean person.”
“Yeah, poor Ronald and Jimmy.” She smiled. “I gave them each a black eye.”
He fought not to smile back. “It’s not good to fight, Patty Ann. Especially little girls. You’re supposed to be a lady. Why don’t you play with the other girls in the play yard?”
“They play boring stuff.”
He glanced down at the pants peeking out from under her dress. “And I think you should stop wearing britches under you dresses. You’re getting older now and have to learn how to be a lady.”
Julia: Bride of New York (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 11) Page 10
