by Linda Ellen
He gave a nod as he munched on a piece of crispy bacon. She continued, “Her eighteenth birthday came and she needed to find a place to live, so she asked me if I’d go in halves with her on a small apartment, and I said yes. Well, to call it an apartment is being generous—it was actually just one big room that we divided into different areas. We even shared a bed. Oh, and by the way,” she added, a mischievous glint in her eye as she pointed her fork at him. “It’s because of Beth Ann that I’m even here. It was her idea for me to check out the matrimonial advertisements after...well, after Ethan did what he did—and she even borrowed newspapers from our elderly gentleman neighbor across the hall.”
He sent her a wide grin. “I’ll have to write her a thank you letter,” he quipped and she giggled. Then, mockingly he added, “Sounds like she wanted the room all to herself.”
“Oh no, that wasn’t it. She won’t be living there too much longer, herself. Her long-time beau, Stanley, no doubt will be asking for her hand soon. No, she just...she knew I wanted to get a fresh start...go somewhere new...away from...well, certain people.”
He took another big bite, chewing thoughtfully before casting a glance at her. “Ethan...that’s your ex-fiancé, the no-good that Sam knocked on his...caboose, right?”
Remembering that thoroughly entertaining incident, Charise pressed two fingers to her lips as she swallowed her bite of food and chuckled. “Yes, he is, and oh, Finn, I enjoyed every moment of that, believe me! Sam was amazing!”
Finn smiled back, but after a heartbeat, his eyes dimmed just a mite and he cleared his throat, murmuring, “Yeah, I can imagine. Good old Sam...if I could have been there, I’d have done more than just knock the blackguard on his keister. Sounds like the cad needs to be taken down a peg or two, from what you told me before.”
Charise gave a nod as she pictured Ethan in his immaculate suit, lying prostrate on the sidewalk and rubbing his jaw as he stared up at a furious Sam. “Sam stood in for you quite well. He made short work of Ethan.”
They finished the rest of their breakfast in thoughtful silence.
Finn said no more, and Charise stole occasional glances at his face, but the playfulness from earlier had gone and his thoughts seemed serious...almost brooding. More than once, she wished she could read his mind and tried to think of a way to ask if something was bothering him, but nothing she thought of seemed right. Had she said something wrong earlier? As she finished up the last of her meal, she combed through their conversation in her mind, but couldn’t put her finger on what the problem could be.
When Charise stood up to clear the table, idly mentioning that they were running low on a few foodstuffs, Finn quickly offered to write down items for purchase at the mercantile while she worked on the dishes and called each necessity out to him. He told her where the store, Hodge’s Mercantile, was located—about five businesses down on the opposite side of the street and Charise remembered seeing it the day she arrived.
“Just tell Mr. Hodge to put everything on my account,” Finn instructed, adding, “You can get some fancy doodads for the house if you want...you know, like curtains, or rag rugs, stuff like that...”
Charise finished the dishes and then came to stand at his side to peruse the list and see if she could think of anything else they needed.
He looked up at her, his eyes sparkling with affection and her heart jumped when he reached up and caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. His touch once again made her heart pound as tingles zipped up and down her body. Oh, how just his mere touch affected her! She leaned into his caress, her eyes locked with his as she whispered, “Thank you, Finn. You’re such a wonderful husband...”
His eyes shifted to her lips and back to search her eyes as if for permission. “Charise...you’re so beautiful...” he responded as his hand slowly slid around to the back of her head and he gently urged her closer. She complied without hesitation, her eyes drifting shut at the first touch of his lips to hers.
Oh my stars! She gasped lightly as tiny lights seemed to explode behind her eyelids and she melted into his kiss. He grasped her around the waist, turning her to perch on his good leg and their arms seemed to naturally wrap around one another as Finn promptly deepened the kiss.
Charise had never been kissed like this. No man she courted, nor even her ex-fiancé, had ever kissed her with such passion—and she found she liked it, instantly wanting more. At that moment, she had no doubt she and her husband were well on their way to falling in love—if their mutual attraction and this fiery kiss were any indication.
Finn moaned low in his throat and slanted his mouth across hers to glean the sweetness inside. She slipped her hands up to thread her fingers into his hair and opened to him fully...just as they both heard the sound of a handsaw being pulled through wood, coming from somewhere nearby.
She barely heard it, so intent was she on enjoying the taste and feel of her husband’s tongue interacting with hers—but Finn seemed to come to himself and turned his head, breaking their kiss as he gazed toward the back door and mumbled, “What the heck is that?”
Floating down from the mountaintop of their first passionate kiss, Charise idly looked over her shoulder and listened, and then smiled as she realized what they were hearing.
“Oh, that’s just Sam. I forgot to tell you, he’s building us a back staircase today.”
“He’s what?” Her suddenly irate husband demanded, turning angry sapphire eyes her way. She had not expected such a response. Hadn’t dreamed of it.
Oh goodness. What have I done?
“Get up, get up,” Finn urged, boosting Charise up off his lap so quickly she nearly lost her balance. He then reached for his crutches as the noise of the saw seemed to get louder and louder, the rasping sound abrading his nerves. For some reason, he wasn’t taking time to analyze the situation and his temper exploded like coal oil flung on a bonfire as he struggled to his good foot and lurched to the back door... on a mission.
“Finn! My goodness, what’s wrong?” Charise squeaked from somewhere behind him. He could hear her hurrying to catch up. “It’s Sam.” She reiterated. “He offered yesterday when he was here. I thought you’d be thrilled...” she tried to reason with him as he stubbornly ignored her. Reaching the door, he wrenched it open.
“He didn’t ask me, that’s what’s wrong,” he muttered as he maneuvered through the door, his crutches banging into the doorjamb on either side. Dang that brother of mine, coming over here and taking over, like I’m not even here. First, he marries my intended because I’m laid up like an invalid, then he plays the dashing hero and punches the daylights out of her rude ex-fiancé, and now this. I’ve had it. His pride had taken all it could stand. All of the pent up frustration of the last two weeks came to a head and completely ignoring how ridiculous his argument would seem, he groused, “You don’t just take on a project at another man’s house like that without clearin’ it with the man! Building steps on my place is my job. Not his.”
“B...but...” she sputtered as they emerged together onto the wood surface of the porch. Simmering, he crutched his way to the railing and glared down, seeing the top of his brother’s head as he bent over the saw.
“Hey!” Finn barked. “What’dya think you’re doin’?”
Finn noticed Charise, eyes rounded as she peeked over the railing just as Sam looked up, saw her and sent her a wave, before he turned his attention back to him. The steam inside Finn rose another ten degrees as he saw the mirth in his brother’s eyes. If there was one thing that could always ratchet up his rage it was his brother laughing or making fun of his fury.
“What’s it look like I’m doin’, Finny? I’m buildin’ you a staircase—the staircase you should have built when you tore the other one down,” he stated matter-of-factly. Then switching his gaze to Charise again, he grinned and tipped an invisible hat to her, calling up, “Top of the morning to you, sunshine.”
Charise opened her mouth to answer, but Finn, irrationally raging, flung up a h
and to cut her off, then pointed a finger down at Sam. “She’s not your sunshine. She’s my wife, not yours, you got that? That proxy marriage doesn’t mean she belongs to you. She belongs to ME! And this house don’t belong to you either! You can’t just come waltzing over here and put up a staircase any old time you feel like it! You—”
“Phineas Oliver!” his wife’s screech interrupted his tirade. He jerked to a stop, and turned to stare at her, shocked speechless at her outburst. Through his haze of anger, he saw that her mouth had fallen open and she’d turned to gape at him like he was a stranger who had taken over the body of her sweet tempered, wonderful new husband. Where had that thought come from? Finn tried to shove it away as his new wife lit into him like old Mrs. Travis had that time he’d stolen a whole blackberry pie right off her windowsill.
“How dare you speak to Sam like that!” Charise yelled. “What in the world are you so angry about...and why are you saying such things to your own brother?” Although rapidly losing the vigor of his anger like a boiling pot taken off the fire, Finn opened his mouth to defend himself, but she barreled on, “Sam’s been nothing but wonderful to us both—and you well know it!” She stopped and swallowed hard, obviously trying to rein in her own temper.
“Th...that’s beside the point,” Finn stuttered in retort, but she shook her head in disgust and continued, “I’m ashamed of you, Finn Maynard, and right now, I feel like I don’t know you at all. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, talking to your brother like that. You ought to try showing a little gratitude. Sam’s taking time out from his own business to come over here and help us.”
She paused, her chest heaving, which in his opinion made her look alluring as all get out. Her words had made him feel lower than a dung beetle; even as part of his brain managed to register that she looked amazingly fetching all riled up like she was. Those brown eyes of hers were sparklingly animated, her face was pink with exertion, and that kissable mouth was clamped shut in frustration. Abstractly, he wanted to grab her and kiss her all over again, but before he could move, she brought up a shaking hand and pointed at him, her finger nearly touching his nose as she added, “You need to apologize, Mr. Maynard.”
He swallowed and watched as she glanced over the rail at an equally shocked Sam, and called, “I’m going to the mercantile. I’ll see you later, Sam,” then she turned on her heel and stomped to the door. Finn couldn’t take his eyes from the amazing creature he had married as she whirled around, skirts swirling and dark braid swinging, her whole body still shaking with emotion as she reiterated, “Apologize.”
Then she went through the door and slammed it behind her, rattling the glass panes in the process.
Sam reacted with chuckling from down below. “Whew doggies, now you went and done it.”
Finn shut his mouth, which had fallen open during his wife’s tirade. Dang, she sure got mad. All I said was...was... his thoughts stopped, suddenly unable to remember why he’d even gotten so angry, or what he had said to his brother during his few minutes of mindless rage. He was sure, however, that it hadn’t been as bad as some of their scraps had been growing up. Sam had said worse to him in the past. Heck, during some of their brawls, they had ended up coming to blows, one time even rolling around in the mud, bellowing and howling like two rabid bears! But, they always made up and let bygones be bygones. That’s the way of brothers...
He clutched the rail with both hands and looked down at his amused sibling, who stood staring up at him, chortling and scratching his head.
“My my, that little gal’s got a temper. I think you’ve done met your match, Finny boy. She gone off at you like that before?” Sam couldn’t seem to quit his chuckling.
Finn shook his head. “Nope. We’ve been getting along great. Matter of fact, we were just...” he paused, not necessarily wishing to share with his wisecracking brother about his and Charise’s first magnificent, earth-shattering kiss. He knew Sam would get a big kick out of having interrupted the momentous event and Finn would probably never hear the end of it. He clamped his mouth shut.
Sam called up, “Why did you light into me like that, anyway?”
Finn’s eyes slipped closed as he shook his head and chuckled. “Heck if I know. I guess...” he opened his eyes and met his brother’s patient stare. He knew Sam understood him—probably better than he understood himself.
Suddenly, he did feel the shame his wife had heaped on him and he looked down at the aggravating cast on his leg and then back at his brother with a crooked half grin. “Aww horse feathers, Sam. I’m so cotton pickin’ tired of being laid up with this stupid cast, not able to be a man, a husband, a barber, or even a brother, I just went a little crazy there, I guess.” Sam grinned up at him, obviously enjoying his discomfort. Deciding to take his lumps like a man, Finn went on, “I guess...I guess I’ve felt a bit jealous of...well, dang it, of you and Charise. There, I said it. It’s kinda seemed like you two have a special relationship that don’t have anything to do with me, and I keep thinking about those vows you spoke with each other and...well, con sarnit,” he paused and rifled one hand back through his hair. “You’re all big and burley and strong, and a whole man, while I’m stuck up here, can’t even walk, can’t work, can’t go anywhere, can’t—”
“Now just hold on one biscuit eatin’ minute. You keep this up, you’re gonna get me riled.” Sam warned, albeit gently. He took a deep breath and ran his hand down his bushy face. Looking back up at Finn, he went on, “Number one, you’re a whole man same as me. Just cause you temporarily got a busted leg don’t make you less of a man. Number two, I can tell by the way Charise already looks at you, watches you, hangs on every word you say, that you’re already special in her heart—more special than I can ever be. She’s already got feelings for ya; it’s as plain as the nose on her face. Number three, those vows you’re so worried about—that judge worded ‘em so that she was pledging to love, honor and obey YOU. He made sure to use your name, not mine. And you haven’t asked, but I didn’t kiss her on the mouth when he gave the word, just like I promised I wouldn’t. I kissed her cheek—and I told her why.”
Finn watched as Sam tossed the saw down and placed his hands on his hips, staring up at him. “And as for you being stuck up there—you jughead—that’s why I’m over here at the crack of dawn planning on working all day and probably all of tomorrow too, building you an escape route so you won’t be stuck up there anymore.” Then as if a realization just occurred to him, he dropped his hands to his sides and sheepishly admitted, “But I guess I did kind of jump into the thick of things, though, huh?”
All of the tension between the brothers seemed to evaporate like dew in the morning sun and they both started to chuckle, and then guffaw. Finn bent over the rail laughing as Sam gleefully slapped his own thigh.
“I’m sorry.” “I apologize.” They said in unison.
Sam peered up at Finn one more time and said, “Lemme come up there and we’ll sit together at the kitchen table and draw up some plans for this here staircase. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds like a plan, brother. I’ll meet you inside. I think there’s some coffee left from breakfast.”
Once the door banged shut behind her, Charise curled her hands into fists and stomped her foot in a mini fit. “Oooooo that man!” She hadn’t felt that angry in such a long time, she couldn’t remember when. And this on the heels of that earth-moving, grab-a-bucket-and-douse-the-fire kiss!
Her emotions felt twisted and confused toward her new husband.
Finn’s accusations had been completely unreasonable toward Sam, whom she already loved like a brother, and the entirety had ignited a fierce loyalty within Charise. Also, Finn’s blustering about her belonging to him and not Sam had set her teeth on edge, chiefly because he’d said it as if she weren’t standing there—as if she had needed defending from Sam. Goodness, where had all that come from?
What a way to start a morning...not to mention a marriage.
Still fuming, and at pre
sent wishing to be as far from Finn as she could get, she grabbed his list off the table, marched to the bedroom, and snatched up her reticule. Stomping down the hall and the steps, she muttered the entire way about stubborn, stupid, grouchy husbands. She exited the front door of the building with a firm bang, though not quite a slam, and set off marching down the boardwalk.
Thankfully, by the time she crossed the threshold of the mercantile, a good bit of her anger had dissipated. She stepped inside and took in a deep, cleansing breath, reveling in all of the different smells and aromas in the large, well-stocked general store. Animal feed, lamp oil, yard goods, and salted meat—the array was quite impressive. Allowing her eyes to adjust to the dimmer light, she looked around the fairly large space, her list held tightly in one hand.
A man came through a door in the back wall and walked toward her as he tied the strings of a white, merchant’s apron behind his back, a friendly smile wreathing his wrinkled face. Charise noticed he had smooth, silver hair that was attractively combed and he had tied the apron folded over at his belt so that his crisp, white shirt, striped gray and white vest and black string tie were visible. My what a sharp-dressed man—even in a shopkeeper’s apron.
“Good morning there, missy,” he greeted and she found herself smiling at his easy personality. “I’m Sebastian Hodge. I own this here establishment.”
She gave a nod and answered, “Good morning.”
“You’re Finny’s new wife, ain’t ya,” he stated, giving her the once-over with a decisive nod. “Big Sam told me how pretty you are, and he was sure right.”
Charise felt her face heat under the compliment and his observant gaze as she murmured, “Why...thank you.”
“How’s young Finn doin’? Ain’t seen him since he had his accident. Darn shame, that was.”
