“Women,” Josiah snapped, “especially those concerned about their reputation, do not go fishing, and you stay out of this, Blackwell. I told you this morning to stay away from her.” He grabbed Fiona’s arm and forced her to start walking. “And I told you to stay at the house. I’ve wasted over an hour looking for you.”
Brett considered dropping the fish in order to grab Josiah by the arm and give him a good solid piece of his mind, but, as if reading his intention, Fiona shook her head again.
She also stopped walking and pulled her arm out of Josiah’s grasp. “I apologize for not being at the house, but the boys were hungry and bored.”
Josiah mumbled beneath his breath before he gestured toward the boys. “Gather up those heathens so you can go change your clothes.”
Brett squeezed the fish so hard it struggled in his arms, but he held his tongue as Fiona’s eyes narrowed.
She lifted her chin and calmly said to Josiah, “We will meet you at the house. Right after we help Mr. Blackwell carry all this back to his place.”
“He doesn’t need any help,” Josiah protested.
“Yes, he does.” Wyatt ran up to stand in front of his mother. “And we’re gonna help him.”
This wasn’t his fight, but Brett was having a hard time not stepping in. With a steady glare, he let Josiah know what would happen if he lifted a hand toward either Fiona or the boy.
Josiah must have understood at least a portion of how that might turn out for him because he took a step back. “All right, the boys can help Brett if they must while you and I return to the house, Fiona.”
Fiona’s eyes said all Brett needed to know. He could accept she and Josiah needed some time alone to settle a few things, and he gave her a single head nod to let her know the boys would be fine with him.
“Very well, Mr. Melbourne,” she said. “I will return with you, but I will carry the baskets and quilt.”
Josiah didn’t argue, nor did he offer to carry anything for her.
Brett’s jaw hurt from biting his back teeth together and he had a hard time pulling his eyes off Fiona and Josiah as they walked away.
“I don’t like him,” Wyatt said.
“Me neither,” Rhett mumbled.
Brett was of the same sentiment, but letting the boys know that wouldn’t be right, so he hefted the catfish higher into his arms. “This here cat is getting heavy. Can you boys handle the poles and the rest of the fish?”
“Yes,” Wyatt said. “I’ll go get the other fish and the worms too.”
Setting the poles down, Rhett said, “I’ll help him.”
Turning his attention fully on the boys, Brett followed them back as far as the riverbank. “You fellas sure are good help. I’d have to make three trips without you.”
Wyatt gathered the stick full of fish, while Rhett collected the shovel and can of worms.
As the younger brother climbed up the bank, Brett leaned down. “Hook that shovel handle over my fingers. It’ll come in handy if this old cat starts flopping about.”
“How?” the boy asked while holding up the shovel handle.
Teasing, Brett replied, “I’ll give him a thunk with the shovel.”
That made Rhett laugh, but Wyatt was once again occupied by staring toward where his mother and Josiah walked along the trail far ahead.
“Is that stick strong enough to hold all those fish?” Brett asked.
“Yes,” Wyatt answered.
“Tell me if it gets too heavy,” Brett said. They’d caught around a dozen fish, and some were good-sized.
“It won’t get too heavy for me,” Wyatt said stubbornly.
“Then let’s get these fish home,” Brett said, “because this one’s getting heavy for me.”
He’d hoped his teasing would make them smile.
It didn’t.
Their walk home was solemn, and though Brett tried several times to engage the boys in conversation, it was apparent their earlier excitement wasn’t going to return. His either.
Upon arrival at his place, he said, “Just put everything down by the porch.”
Once everything, including the big cat, was on the ground, Brett stretched the cramps out of his arms. The apprehension in their eyes as the boys looked at each other gave him a sense of what they were thinking. “Do you boys know how to clean fish?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Wyatt answered.
Brett couldn’t miss the hope in the boy’s eyes. “It’s time to learn, don’t you think?” Noting the hesitation, he added, “Your ma will let us know when she wants you to come home.”
“Do you think so?” Wyatt asked.
“Yes, I do,” Brett replied. “Because I’m going to go ask her.” He not only thought the boys were better off staying at his place, he wanted to make sure that Fiona was safe. “Put the fishing poles in the shed. I’ll be right back.”
* * *
Fiona waited until they’d entered the house and the door was firmly closed before she spoke. She had promised to marry Josiah and she would, but she would not tolerate any more of his rudeness. Not to her or her children. Spending the afternoon with Brett made her determined her life here wouldn’t be a repeat of what life had been like for them in Ohio. “My sons, Mr. Melbourne, are not heathens.” She had to continue while her courage was up. “As I said, they were hungry and bored. They had been cooped up on the train for days, eating barely enough to ward off hunger. Mr. Blackwell was not only kind enough to offer them yet another meal, something you have not concerned yourself with since our arrival, but he also provided them with a bit of enjoyment. Something else you have not concerned yourself with.”
Josiah’s face turned redder, but she wasn’t done. Not by any means.
“I understand you paid our way here, and that it was expensive, but that does not give you the right to be rude and inconsiderate to us. I made it perfectly clear in my letter that I have two sons. If you were not willing to accept them, to provide for them, you should not have agreed to my offer.”
It wasn’t like her to be so bold, but she had to be for her children as much as she had to marry Josiah for them.
“I was going to bring you a meal, but—”
“When?” she demanded with all the anger she’d harbored during their walk to the house. He’d berated her the entire time, for not behaving nobly, as the wife of a mayor must. Well, if he was noble, she wanted nothing of it. She spun about and gestured toward the door. “My sons were hungry last night and again this morning. If not for Mr. Blackwell, they would have gone to bed hungry. And that, Mr. Melbourne, is not tolerable. It wasn’t yesterday or today and it won’t be tomorrow either.”
He sighed heavily. “Now, Fiona, there’s no need to be so upset.”
“Yes, Mr. Melbourne, there is.” The anger peaking inside had her shaking. “If I’d wanted my sons to starve, to be ridiculed and shamed, I would have stayed in Ohio. You either agree to provide my sons with food, three meals a day, every day, or this marriage is off.”
He stepped forward and waggled a finger at her. “You can’t call this wedding off—only I can. Now, you either—”
“Oh, yes, I can, and I will.”
His face was beet red and his nostrils were flaring. “How? You have no money, nowhere to go.”
He was right. She had no money, no idea where she and the boys could go, but she wasn’t about to back down. “I’ll figure something out.” Recalling the reason she was here, she added, “You’re not the only man in this town in search of a wife.”
That seemed to knock some of the air out of him, because his shoulders drooped slightly, and that gave her hope.
“I’ve agreed to all of your demands,” she said. “Now it’s your turn. You either agree to provide for my children, beginning immediately, or the marriage is off.”<
br />
A thud on the front porch interrupted anything he’d been about to say, which concerned her because the glare in his eyes said she may have gone too far. She pinched her lips together as he moved toward the door. She’d hoped it would take the boys longer to arrive home. Having them witness this argument was not something she could allow.
“Oh, Brett,” Josiah said, rather friendlier now. “Do come in.”
Not seeing her sons, Fiona moved closer to the door.
“I don’t need to come in,” Brett said. His somewhat cautious gaze landed on her. “I just want to make sure it’s all right that the boys stay at my place long enough to clean the fish.”
Before Fiona could open her mouth, Josiah was already talking.
“That would be fine. Thank you for providing them with such activities,” he said to Brett. “After being cooped up on the train for so long, they are in need of some fun. I wanted to say thank-you for seeing that they were fed last night and today, as well. I had every intention of getting back here last night and this morning, but my mayoral duties didn’t allow that to happen. With the weddings yesterday and the new preacher’s first sermon this morning, I found myself running from one thing to the next.”
Fiona could understand that being the mayor held a lot of responsibilities, but she couldn’t imagine him running and had a distinct feeling that Brett felt Josiah was lying. She did too. Perhaps not lying so much as making excuses.
Looking at her, Brett asked, “Is it all right if they stay at my place for a while longer?”
A new wave of regret at how their wonderful afternoon had ended filled her as she nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”
He glanced at Josiah and then back at her. Understanding he was concerned about her, she said, “I’ll come get them in a little bit.”
He nodded. “They’ll be fine.”
She didn’t even have to search to find a smile. “I know they will, Mr. Blackwell. Thank you.”
Without another word, Brett turned around.
Josiah immediately shut the door. “As I told Brett, duties filled my weekend, but now that the weddings are over, things will be slower. I’ll still be extremely busy but will find the time to dedicate to you and your sons.”
Staring at the closed door, Fiona wasn’t overly sure those were the words she wanted to hear from Josiah. She drew in a breath and held it for a moment, trying to get past how he had to find the time.
“Fiona? Did you hear me?”
She’d given her word and couldn’t go back on it. “Yes, Josiah, I heard you.”
“Good, now that that’s all settled, would you mind changing your dress? I’ll take you over to my place and then to dinner at the hotel.”
Fiona wilted slightly as her conscience spoke to her. Be careful what you ask for, because you may receive it.
“And your sons of course,” Josiah said.
“Of course.” Without another word, Fiona walked into the bedroom and closed the door. There was still water in the pitcher she’d unpacked and filled this morning, and as she poured some into the chipped but matching basin, she sighed at how disappointed the boys would be. After catching and cleaning the fish, they’d want to eat it for supper. When it came to their happiness, she seemed to be thwarted at every corner.
Perhaps that was her fate in life, and try as she may, she couldn’t change it.
She removed her dress and hung it over the open windowsill to dry so she could scrape off the mud before washing it and then put on her second best dress. A sense of frustration told her Josiah would notice if she put on her best dress again—the one she’d worn yesterday—and that he wouldn’t approve of her meager wardrobe.
This dress was dark brown and too heavy for the warm weather, but it would have to do. She then brushed her hair and twisted it back into a bun. Though they were a distance away, and Brett’s house was on the other side of this one, she could hear the boys. Their laughter, along with Brett’s deep voice, carried on the wind and seemed to swirl around her. Mocking her in some unintentional yet deeply emotional way.
“Fiona? Are you almost done?”
She closed her eyes for a moment, willing the strength and determination she so greatly needed to appear, before she said, “I’m coming.”
Josiah was standing in the open doorway, and the somewhat critical stare that went from her head to her toes made her walk past him and down the steps before saying, “I’ll go get Wyatt and Rhett.”
“I’ll join you,” he said, catching up and taking a light hold on her arm.
Unlike Brett’s, Josiah’s touch made her skin crawl. She told herself to ignore the sensation. That in time she’d come to accept it. And him. She wasn’t going to tell herself that she would also love him. That could prove impossible. Furthermore, love had nothing to do with their relationship. Their marriage. Respect would be enough.
“It’s certainly a warm day,” Josiah said.
“Yes, it is.” Accepting he was trying, she decided she should too. “Is July your warmest month here?”
“I dare say yes, but August can be just as hot. As can June,” he answered. “However, January is most certainly the coldest. I’ve seen some of the shallower creeks freeze clear to the bottom in January. Of course, you’ve seen that too. There’s nothing strange about that in Ohio.”
“No, there’s not,” she replied. The boys had seen her and Josiah walking around Brett’s house but acted as if they hadn’t. Though it bothered her, for they’d always been happy to see her, she couldn’t blame them.
They flanked Brett near a long and wide board stretched between two barrels. Several bowls sat on the table, full of water and fish fillets, and the bucket near their feet was full of entrails.
“These boys are as good at cleaning fish as they are catching them,” Brett said as he wiped the board clean with a cloth that he then dropped into another bucket of water.
“It’s time for them to go get cleaned up,” Josiah said. “I’m taking them to my place and then to dinner at the hotel.”
“But we’re gonna eat the fish we caught,” Rhett said, first looking at her and then Brett. “Aren’t we?”
Fiona stared at the bowls of fish. Four in total. Big bowls. It was impossible for her not to think about how many meals she and the children could have out of those fillets. Food had been scarce most of her life, and those full bowls appeared to be the bounty she’d prayed for more than once.
“I’ll tell you what,” Brett said, kneeling down to look Rhett in the eyes. “I’ll take some of this fish over to Rollie Austin and ask him to put it in his icehouse. That way it’ll stay good and cold and you can eat it tomorrow.”
“But I don’t want to eat it tomorrow,” Rhett said. “I want to eat it today.”
“Tomorrow will be wonderful,” Fiona said, stepping forward and placing her hands on Rhett’s shoulders. “Thank you, Mr. Blackwell.”
Rhett’s little eyes were full of pleading when he glanced up at her, and though she could empathize with her son, her nod told him what she expected.
He complied. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Brett said as he ruffled Rhett’s hair. “Now you have something to dream about.” With a wink, he added, “Eating fish. Tomorrow morning you’ll wake up hungrier than an old dog trying to find where he buried a bone.”
“I guess so,” Rhett said sadly.
Fiona had kept one eye on Wyatt, expecting him to argue as well, but he hadn’t. In fact, he stepped around Brett and took a hold of Rhett’s hand. “Come on, I suspect we need to go wash our hands and faces before we go anywhere.”
“Yes, you do,” Fiona said. “And change your shirts.” She also reached over and squeezed Wyatt’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
He nodded and led Rhett away.
“Well, I gotta bur
y these innards,” Brett said, picking up the bucket. “You folks enjoy your dinner at the hotel.”
Somewhat taken aback because he’d never been so abrupt with her before, it was a moment before she could respond.
In the meantime, Josiah said, “Of course, we won’t keep you.”
“No,” she said. “We won’t. Thank you again, for everything, Mr. Blackwell.”
Brett nodded and walked away, carrying his bucket. She felt as if a part of her was in that bucket. Her happiness. Which had appeared for a short time today, and a part of her feared she might not experience it again anytime soon.
“Fiona,” Josiah said. “You need to make sure your boys are presentable.”
Pulling her eyes off Brett, she sighed. “Yes, I do.”
* * *
Brett forced himself not to turn around, but when he stopped at the shed for a shovel, he couldn’t help but look. Fiona and Josiah were almost back to her place. A mighty bout of sorrow for those little boys welled up inside him. They’d been looking forward to eating the fish they’d caught. Poor fellas. He felt sorry for Fiona too. More than the boys, even.
Josiah wasn’t known for his ability to make friends, but Brett had never found a reason to completely dislike the mayor. Until now.
Mad because there wasn’t a whole lot he could do, he grabbed the shovel and headed toward the edge of his property to bury the fish guts. His mind kept going back to Fiona and how the shine had disappeared from her eyes. It was as if someone had blown out a candle inside her.
That led his mind down another route—marrying a stranger. He hadn’t given that much thought before. Not even while attempting to get to know the brides that had arrived last month. He certainly hadn’t been drawn to them like he was to Fiona. Couldn’t imagine any one of them would have been content watching a sunrise with him, or jumping on a huge catfish to make sure it didn’t get away.
He had to wonder if Josiah was that drawn to her, or if he just wanted a wife.
Jabbing the shovel blade into the ground, Brett cursed beneath his breath. Yesterday, he’d thought a woman—any woman—could be the wife he wanted, but now he wasn’t so sure. There might be a whole lot more to getting married than he’d thought.
Winning the Mail-order Bride & Pursued for the Viscount's Vengeance & Redeeming the Rogue Knight (9781488021725) Page 8
