She would rather play with snakes as her brothers did than be near him. “No, they wanted you, not me,” she said in a blithe tone. She placed her fingers over her mouth. Did she actually say that? How not like her.
Hugh wobbled.
Archie approached and guided him to a nearby chair. “Are you alright? You look mighty white.”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve sent word about what happened. The birth and …” His voice trailed off. He coughed and coughed again. Glancing over at his brother, he asked, “You doing fine without me? I hope I didn’t scare you when I didn’t come home right away.”
Jack opened his mouth then shut it.
Hugh looked at Winifred. “As you probably picked up during our trip to Lincoln, Jack is quite bashful. But he’s a good worker wouldn’t you say, Archie?”
“Yes. He is. Bonnie said she’s bringing over a special brew later if you ain’t feeling better.”
“Oh, I can’t stay another night. I already lost yesterday and today.”
“You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying right here until you get better,” Winifred stated. “You’re going back to bed if I have to ask Mr. Smith and your brother to take you up there. And,” she said, going over to them, “you stay away from that baby. The last thing we want is for Vivian Louise to catch your cold.” She could not believe those words escaped her lips, but she could not let him go home feeling this way even if she wanted him gone. Turning to Archie and Jack, she asked, “Would you mind assisting Mr. Hugh Warren to his room?”
“We’ll get him up those stairs if we have to carry him up,” Archie responded.
“I’m fine. Really, I am,” squeaked Hugh.
She examined his countenance. “Sickness is written all over your face. I bet you’ve got a temperature, too. You get up those steps unless you want the rest of us to get what ails you.” The smell of chicken cooking drifted into the room. “Besides,” she added, “I think Mr. Crowley is making chicken noodle soup, and you wouldn’t want to miss that. Opal said he makes some of the best she’s ever tasted.”
“Please, I’m alright.”
“And, I’m a man in sheep’s clothing.” Once more, she could not understand how she became so uncouth. She never would have said these words back home.
He glimpsed toward her, his gaze scanning her figure. “I don’t believe—” Another cough bubbled to the surface.
Gesturing to the visitors, she said, “His bedroom is on the left, and peek in on the wee one on your right. But I wouldn’t hold the baby since you wouldn’t want her to catch his sickness.”
***
Hugh could not believe his bad luck as the two men navigated him to the guest bed then pulled off his boots. He wanted to leave. He needed to help Archie around the farm, and he believed his stay put an extra strain on this new family.
Archie bent over him. “Don’t worry about the farm. We’ll get by, and we’ll take up that other matter once you return.”
“I can’t understand it. I seldom get sick.” Hugh groaned, looking at his brother while he arched an eyebrow.
“He’s right. I – I can’t remember the last time.” Jack shuffled his feet.
“Well, that’s not what’s important. Just get well.” Archie turned to Jack. “I think he’s in good hands, especially with the Boyers taking care of him.”
“That’s the problem. She’s nothing but trouble.”
A wooden plank squeaked. Hugh’s gaze went to the doorway. He raised his head at the redheaded woman. Oh, why did she always come in when he commented on her?
She bristled before stepping into the room, carrying a tray. “I hope you don’t mind my interruption, but Mr. Crowley suggested I bring this up while it’s still hot.” She passed Archie and Jack as she approached. “Would you like to try a few bites now, Mr. Hugh Warren?”
“I’ll try.” A cough escaped his lips before he scooted himself upward. She grasped the spoon and presented it to him. He thought he saw a glimpse of tenderness before her stern manner returned. Goose bumps formed on his arms. He took the spoon from her then directed it to his mouth. The steaming liquid tasted good. He took one bite after another until he got to five, when his stomach roiled. Shaking his head, he shifted his gaze to her. He set the utensil upon the silver tray. “Can’t take anymore.”
“I’ll leave this here for you in case you’d like some later.” Winifred placed the tray on the bedside table.
“I think we’ll look in on the little one.” Archie directed his attention to Winifred. “If that’s alright with you?”
“Of course, and please keep the door open. I’m going to see if he has a fever. We’ll do our best to make him well.” Archie and Jack exited the room.
“Miss Winifred Preston.”
“Yes?”
“Could you please call me Hugh?”
She stiffened. “If you insist.”
He nodded.
Leaning over him, she placed her fingers on his temple. “You’re hot.” She pulled her hand from his forehead. It’s a good thing Mrs. Graham is returning with her concoction which, according to my sister, will snap about anything out of you.”
Chilled, he pulled the covers up to his shoulders. His eyelids fluttered. He hated to be rude, but he sure would like some rest.
She shrugged and stared at him a moment. Taking a deep breath, she said, “And you can call me Miss Winifred.”
He gave her a small smile. Well, she actually melted a little. That was refreshing. But I can’t get to know her better even with that shortened title standing in the way. He gulped. What had he just thought? No, he could not be drawn to her. He just couldn’t.
Her footsteps reverberated across the floor. She shut the bedroom door behind her.
He snuggled within the covers. His eyes closed.
***
Bonnie Graham tiptoed into Hugh’s bedroom. The sleeping man rested peacefully. Dusk had already settled upon the plains. She lit the oil lamp on his bedside table then stirred the hot toddy. The brew worked, but could she persuade him to drink it? She hoped so. Her nose scrunched at the whiskey smell.
Hugh jerked. His lips moved. He mumbled, “Winifred, Winifred.”
So Miss Winifred was on his mind. Hmm. A broad smile formed on Bonnie’s face. She considered nudging him awake to get the drink down him, when a series of words spurted from his mouth.
“Sorry about the hat.”
Bonnie’s brow furrowed. What was he talking about? She stood there a minute, hoping he would wake up on his own.
His eyes flickered then flickered again before opening. Puzzled, he scanned the room before his gaze settled on Bonnie. He stared at her. “I’m sorry. You’re –”
“Mrs. Bonnie Graham. I live the next farm over.” She paused. “I met you earlier today after I came over to see the baby, remember?”
He continued to stare at her then his lips curved up into a small smile. “It’s a little hazy, but yes, I vaguely remember that.”
“That’s good. Well, I brought you that hot toddy. I think this will help you with what ails you, but you’ll have to sit up and swig this down.”
“Oh.” He wiggled himself upward.
Bonnie gave him the drink.
He frowned, sniffed the concoction, and gulped it down. “That’s some potent stuff.” He handed the still warm cup to her. “It’s bound to work. Something that tastes that awful has to.”
Bonnie laughed. “I know. It’s some ugly tasting liquid, but it does the job. Just ask Opal.”
“Opal?”
“Yes, she was sick last year, and I gave her one of these.” She smiled. “I’m certain you’ll feel much better tomorrow.”
“I hope so. I need to get back to Archie’s. It’s not fair to Archie and Jack to shoulder more of the work.”
“I’m sure he understands.” A nice man like Archie, who cared enough to check on Jack’s brother, would understand Hugh’s inability to be able to work.
“Yup, but I’m also imposin
g on the Boyers’ good graces.”
“Are you sure it’s that or a young lady who bothers you?”
He directed his attention to the doorway. “You never know when she’ll pop up.” He cleared his throat. “We started out on the wrong foot, and I don’t see how we’ll overcome that.”
Giggling, Bonnie looked him square in the eye. “Really? That’s the way Opal and Alex started out, but look at them now.”
He adjusted his pillow. “Not going to repeat with us.”
“Are you sure? Opposites attract, people say.”
“Not this time.”
“We’ll see. We’ll see.”
“See what?” A voice echoed from the open bedroom door. Opal entered the room.
Looking over at her, Bonnie replied, “I was telling him how you and Alex didn’t get along so well in the beginning.”
Laughing, Opal turned to face the patient. “She’s right, of course.”
“It won’t happen with your sister and me.” He blinked and lowered his head, his eyes glazing over.
“We’ll find out,” Bonnie responded.
Opal motioned for the neighbor to follow her out the door.
Bonnie nodded, grasped the china, left the room, then quietly shut the door behind her. Standing in the hallway, Bonnie’s gaze met Opal’s wide grin.
“So love comes to us once more?” Opal said, her eyes twinkling.
“I believe it has.”
“Well, I’ll have to make sure I throw them together more often. After all, I should do what I can to make my sister happy, shouldn’t I?” Opal laughed.
“That’s right,” Bonnie answered, her lips curling up into a grin.
***
The next day, Opal winked at Alex, who sat across the dining-room table from her, before she turned her attention to her sister. Winifred took a bite of her egg. “Once you’re done eating, why don’t you see how Hugh’s doing?”
Winifred clutched her hands together then picked up a piece of bacon. “Um. Couldn’t Mr. Crowley do that? I mean, the butler is a man, and I think he or Teddy could tend to him much better than me.”
“Aw. I ain’t cotton to getting his sickness,” Teddy protested.
“What, Teddy?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Ma, I forgot not to say ain’t.”
“You said it again.” Abigail snickered.
“Now, you two stop it!” The children hung each of their heads low and turned their direction to their utensils. Opal gazed at her sister. “Mr. Crowley checked in on Hugh this morning before making breakfast. But this is his day off, and I need to take care of the children and, of course, Vivian Louise.” Besides, she had to force her sister and him together. A small smile graced her lips.
“Oh, Opal,” Winifred whimpered, “I’ll look in on Mr. Hugh if I must. I didn’t mean to be rude.” She fidgeted in her seat.
“Mr. Hugh? Why, Winifred, that’s so formal.” She took her gaze off her sister to meet her husband’s. He gave her a broad smile. She returned her attention to Winifred. “You’ll find out very quickly here things are not so conventional as back home.”
Winifred looked up sheepishly at her sister. “But, I – I don’t know him that well.”
“Well, you’ll get to know him better when you look in on him, and I’ll be taking care of the wee one.”
Smiling, Winifred responded, “Why, I’d be glad to take care of the baby.”
Opal chuckled. “But you can’t feed her if that’s the problem.”
“Oh.”
Footsteps approached. Mr. Crowley entered with a fresh pot of coffee. He stood above Alex. “Would you like a little more before you go to work?”
“Oh, it smells so good, but I’d better get going.” He rose to his feet, headed for the front door, then squeaked it open. Cool air swept through the downstairs.
Winifred shivered and hastily wrapped her shawl, which was draped over the back of the chair, before she pulled it around her shoulders. The entrance door banged shut.
“Anyone else want another cup?” asked the butler.
Opal and Winifred shook their heads.
“May I be excused?” Abigail asked in a weak voice.
“Me too?” chimed in Theodore.
“Of course, but do your chores first, and after that, you start your lessons.”
Teddy jutted out his chest. “Lessons? But with the baby, don’t you need us to help?”
Opal giggled. “No, Aunt Winifred is here to assist me if I need anything, and besides, I’ve got some stories for you to read, questions to answer about them, and your pa added some arithmetic problems to your slates.” She grinned, glancing from one to the other. “And, if I’m unable to check them, Winifred also is quite good at that.”
Teddy frowned. Abigail pouted. They stood there a minute before darting from the room.
Winifred’s lips curved up into a smile. “They’re so cute, Opal. Some day I would like to become a good mother like you.”
“You will, Sis, but your approach will be different. Each mother provides their own touch.”
Chapter Six
Winifred plodded up the stairs, her sister’s footsteps behind her. The infant wailed. Opal rushed into the bedroom to take care of her daughter. Winifred stood at Hugh’s closed door. She knew she needed to knock. Instead, though, she scanned the hallway and examined the olive-green, accented with ferns, wallpaper. Noticing the paper’s curling edges, she realized the wallpaper needed to be repasted. Again, she wondered how Opal put up with this. It wouldn’t pass muster back home. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on Hugh’s door.
“Yes?”
“May I come in?”
“Alright.”
Winifred stepped into the room and put on a smile as she glanced at the man lying in the middle of the bed. His gaze penetrated hers. She bristled at this contemptuous man. Forcing her voice into a cheery tone, she asked, “So how are you today?”
“To be honest, I’m a little better but not up to snuff.” He gave her a crooked smile.
She turned her head away, wanting to resist this man’s effect on her, but yet her heart rate sped up every time she encountered him. She returned her attention to him.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked, wiggling his body upward, the bed’s springs creaking.
“I – I.”
A weak chuckle escaped his lips. “I think your answer stated the obvious.”
Winifred had to admit it. His handsome face, strong jawline, and dark-brown hair – almost black – swept across his brow, made her uneasy. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she conjured up an answer for him. “It’s not that. I’m just not accustomed to this land.”
“Neither am I, Miss Winifred. Remember we’re both from Charles City.” Hugh gave a low chuckle.
Her cheeks warmed at her stupidity. He could get the better of her. Shaking her head, she realized she had not finished her purpose for being here. How sick was he? She bent over him and pressed her hand on his temple. Not as hot as yesterday at least.
His eyes twinkled then he coughed.
His gaze met hers then she studied his pale countenance with overgrown stubble. She glanced at the lightweight quilt pulled up to his elbows. He needed blankets. “You don’t have enough covering. We’re going to have to keep you warm.”
“You’re probably right, Miss Winifred.” He gave a half-hearted smile before he let out a series of coughs. Reaching up toward her hand, he clasped his hand around her wrist.
She resented his hand on hers. But in spite of her best efforts, a prickling sensation flowed throughout her body. She could not succumb to his bold action. Winifred clenched her teeth.
His gaze bore into hers. “If you don’t mind me saying so, you have a nice gentle touch, and I appreciate you looking after me.”
“I’m happy to,” she lied as she pushed his hand from hers. “I’ll have Mrs. Graham come tonight with her brew, and I’ll talk to Opal about getting more bedding.”
His
face flushed. “Your presence makes me warm.”
“Me?” she asked as she bit her lower lip.
“Yes, Miss Winifred. You’re quite pretty.” He examined her countenance, his gaze settling on her lips.
He was becoming too familiar with her. Face growing warm, she darted her attention to his feet to avoid looking at his intense, deep blue eyes. His words, “You’re quite pretty,” still reverberated in her consciousness. She could not believe anyone thought her attractive since Opal was considered the beauty back home, but Hugh’s comments brought her joy.
***
Winifred closed the door behind her. Hugh released a long breath. He enjoyed her presence – at least for a little while – but she needed to calm down a bit. Miss Winifred was one prim woman. He knew Southern women worried about their appearances and manners; however, her fixation with proper etiquette outdid every lady he had known back home.
He studied the room. A walnut dresser, covered with an embroidered scarf, stood opposite him, and a small table sat underneath the large window. This room was much smaller than the one his brother and he shared back home, but he liked it. No father growled at him or made fun of Jack’s stuttering. Peace filled Hugh’s being.
He shivered and lowered his torso under the covering and pulled the quilt tight around him. Miss Winifred had that right. He did need more blankets. Hugh placed his hand on his cheek. Warm. Just like she said. He laughed as he remembered her red-wine cheeks after he said she was pretty. No one had told her that. Images of her thin frame, freckled face, and those sweet rosy lips flitted in his mind. Shaking his head, he wished her good looks matched that aloof personality of hers, especially when he was in the room. What he could do with those welcoming lips. He quivered at the thought and gulped. Surely, he could not be falling for this snobbish woman? At least, he hoped not because she was one difficult person.
Winifred knocked on Hugh’s door. “May I come in? I’ve brought you a bowl of chicken broth since Mr. Crowley is off today.”
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