“Yes, she did.” Wyatt had both arms crossed over his chest and his squinting eyes held enough anger to make a rattlesnake take cover.
Children shouldn’t harbor such anger. Shouldn’t have to. A good portion of anger was starting to well around inside Brett too—at the idea of more brides arriving and Melbourne harboring one for himself. That wasn’t playing by the rules. The women were supposed to have a choice of who they wanted to marry.
“You gonna cook those fish you caught?” little Rhett asked.
They’d arrived back at the tool shed, and as Brett set the shovel inside, he answered, “I am. Do you boys like catfish? I got more than I can eat.”
Rhett licked his lips while looking up at Wyatt. The older boy shook his head and reluctance filled his voice as he said, “Ma probably wouldn’t like that.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble with your ma, but knowing how long-winded the mayor can be, and seeing you two are hungry, and considering I invited you to eat, I don’t see how she could be too mad. Do you?”
“No,” Rhett answered while his older brother was still considering how to answer. “She promised we’d eat right after we arrived in town, and that was a long time ago.”
“Let me rinse out this bucket, then we’ll go cook us some fish,” Brett said. “We’ll leave the door open so we can hear if she hollers for you.”
Wyatt appeared to agree with that and held out a hand. “I’ll rinse out the bucket. Rhett’s been hungry for hours.”
Brett handed over the bucket, but not until he asked, “Didn’t they feed you on the train?”
“Just once a day,” Wyatt answered. “Last night was the last time we ate.”
Brett grasped Rhett’s little shoulder to lead him up the steps while gesturing toward the well for Wyatt to find the water to rinse out the bucket. “Come on, little feller. Let’s get something in your stomach.” He’d always liked helping others, but thinking about these boys not eating since last night had a powerful bout of sorrow rising up inside him. As children, he and his brothers ate nonstop because that was what boys did. His mother used to say they had hollow legs, but she’d never not let them eat. Never not had a pantry full of food. It wasn’t until he’d gotten older that he realized how lucky that had made him. How rich, not in money, but in life, that had made him. That was part of what made him willing to share whatever he had with whoever needed it.
“Where’d you get so many eggs?” Rhett asked, pointing toward the wire basket on the counter.
“I bought them over at the mercantile.” Seeing how the boy’s eyes were glued on the basket, Brett said, “We’ll fry some to go with the fish.”
“We will?”
Brett nodded while starting a fire in the stove. “Sure enough will.” When he was young and snatched a cookie or slice of bread before a meal, his mother would say he was going to spoil his appetite. That hadn’t happened and he doubted it would for this little feller either. Brett shut the stove door and opened one of the warming oven doors to take out a plate of biscuits he’d purchased from the bakery yesterday. “Here, go ahead and snack on one of these while I get the fish and eggs frying.”
Rhett needed no further coaxing. Neither did Wyatt. By the time the fish was frying, they’d each eaten two biscuits. While they’d been taking the edge off their hunger, Brett had been telling them about other children living in town, mainly the hotel owner’s two rambunctious boys. He also told them about the school and how they’d meet many other children there.
Rhett seemed excited, but Wyatt was hesitant. At seven, he carried a big load on his shoulders, and Brett couldn’t help but wonder what had put it there.
“You boys know how to set a table?” he asked while cracking an egg on the edge of the frying pan. With no sisters, he and his brothers had set the table many times while growing up.
“Yes, sir,” Rhett answered.
“You’ll find everything in that cupboard.” He pointed toward the cabinet behind Wyatt. “Don’t forget napkins.”
He was setting the plate full of fried fish on the table when a woman appeared in the doorway. She was tall and slender, and wearing a dark green dress that was buttoned all the way up to her chin, but it was the dark circles beneath her eyes that made a knot form in Brett’s stomach.
“Brett invited us to eat with him, Ma,” Wyatt said.
“You said we’d eat as soon as we got to town,” Rhett said at the same time.
She bit her bottom lip as she turned to look at him again. “I apologize, Mr. Blackwell—”
“No need to apologize, Mrs. Goldberg,” Brett said while she glanced toward her sons once again. It was obvious Josiah had told her his name, just as Wyatt had told him hers. “I did invite Rhett and Wyatt to supper. As you can see, I have plenty, and feeding my new neighbors would be my pleasure.” A second thought formed then, that of Josiah inviting them to eat with him. “Unless you have other plans of course. I’m afraid I didn’t think of that.”
The way she paused long enough to close her eyes briefly and swallow sent a tiny shiver up his spine. When she opened her eyes and he spotted the moisture she’d been trying to hide, he experienced a wave of melancholy that surpassed all he’d been feeling for himself the past few days.
“No, Mr. Blackwell, we don’t have other plans, and I apologize for that, as well.”
If there hadn’t been little ears nearby, he’d have asked why. Melbourne should have planned something for their first night in town. Then again, if Josiah hadn’t been aware they’d be arriving today, he might have been taken off guard, and considering Rollie Austin was one of the men who’d gotten married today, there wasn’t any place in town open for them to get a meal.
“That must be why I caught so many fish today,” Brett said while pulling out a chair for her. “I already told the boys the fish just wouldn’t stop biting on my hook.”
She glanced from him to the table and back at him. “This is so kind of you, Mr. Blackwell, but we couldn’t impose. The boys shouldn’t have—”
“No one’s imposing, ma’am.” Seeing her hesitation, he added, “I appreciate the company.”
She glanced around the room. “And your wife?”
Brett laughed. “Don’t have one.” He gestured to the table. “It’s nothing fancy, just fish and eggs, but there’s plenty.”
The indecision in her eyes had Brett holding his breath. Or maybe it was the way she was biting her bottom lip. Her face was like the rest of her, long and thin, and her eyes reminded him of a cloudy day—sort of sad and hopeless. Brett took another step closer. “You have to be hungry. Your boys sure are. Think of it as my way of welcoming you to Kansas. Once your bellies are full, you can get settled in your house and then get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow will be a new day.”
“That’s what you always say, Ma,” Rhett said.
The hint of a smile that formed on her lips put a faint shine on her face. “Yes, it is.” Turning his way, she nodded. “I’d—We’d be honored to share a meal with you, Mr. Blackwell, and we sincerely appreciate the invitation.”
“I’ll get another plate,” Wyatt said, displaying a full smile.
“I’ll help him,” Rhett offered.
The younger brother had smiled many times during their short visit, but Wyatt hadn’t, and by the smile that grew on the woman’s face, Brett would bet it was the first time she’d smiled in a while too. He wanted to know why. And he wanted to change that. Someone as pretty as she was should be smiling all the time.
“Thank you, Mr. Blackwell,” she said, holding her hand out. “I hope the boys haven’t made themselves a nuisance.”
“Not at all, ma’am.” He shook her hand, noting the soft skin on the back of her hand couldn’t hide the calluses on her palm. “Welcome to Oak Grove.”
“Thank you,” she
answered softly, sincerely. “Thank you very much.”
Not quite ready to let go of her hand, he tugged her toward the table. Up close he noticed how unique her eyes were. They held no distinct color, but a mixture of gray, green and brown, and a light appeared in them as she bowed her head slightly.
With a timid smile, she said, “The fish smells wonderful.”
He couldn’t smell anything but flowers. Sweet-smelling flowers that gave off such a wonderful scent all he wanted to do was breathe it in.
“I bet it tastes just as good too.”
Brought back from fields of flowers by little Rhett’s voice, Brett let go of her hand to pull out the chair. “Let’s eat while it’s hot,” he said. “Otherwise, it’ll start to stink.” Giving Fiona a friendly wink, he added, “Fish is like that.”
Fiona pinched her lips to keep from giggling as the big man took his seat at the end of the table beside her. He was so friendly, so kind, her insides were practically dancing. This was the kind of welcome she’d hoped her sons would experience. Something that would assure them they were welcome here. That their lives would forever be changed, forever be better than they’d been back in Ohio. If only Josiah Melbourne had been so welcoming to her and her sons. He’d been more concerned that she and the children wouldn’t behave appropriately—and had gone so far as to write a list of things they could do and things they could not do. She’d nearly gnawed the end off her tongue while forcing herself to remain tolerant. And silent. As he’d suggested. Until she’d seen the boys encounter the blacksmith.
Josiah had stopped her on the way out the door, insisting that Brett Blackwell was harmless and would keep the boys busy while he and she continued to discuss their arrangement. A discussion she’d feared would never end. Her first impression of Josiah hadn’t improved much, and she was already afraid she’d made a mistake in coming to Kansas.
She’d thanked whatever lucky stars she might have left when Josiah had finally taken his leave, only to remember she didn’t have anything to feed them for supper. Arriving at Brett Blackwell’s open back door and seeing her boys seated at the table full of food had been enough to bring tears to her eyes. But it had been his charm, the way he’d coaxed her into believing he truly wanted to share this meal with them, that had broken through the tough exterior she’d tried to hold in place.
He was right, the children were hungry, and thankfully he hadn’t questioned why she hadn’t had any other plans of how to feed them this evening. He couldn’t possibly know how much this meal meant to her right now.
“Thank you,” she said while taking the platter of fish fried to a golden brown. After forking the smallest piece onto her plate, she passed the platter on to Wyatt. Brett then handed her another platter full of fried eggs. There had to be more than a dozen. She took one, the smallest, and then passed that platter on to Wyatt, as well.
As Rhett, who now had the fish platter, slid a third piece of fish onto his plate, she opened her mouth to tell him that was enough, but a large hand gently touched her wrist.
“There’s too much here for me to eat, so you boys best eat until you’re too full to swallow another bite,” Brett said.
He removed his hand from her arm and, with a nod, gestured for everyone to start eating. The boys needed no more encouragement than that, and as Fiona watched them begin eating with gusto, her own stomach flipped. She swallowed hard against the sensation that sent a lump into her throat. When she’d mentioned to Josiah that her sons were hungry, that they hadn’t eaten since last night, he’d interrupted her to point out that if it had just been her on the train, she would have had three meals a day.
Anger had flared inside her, yet at that moment, she’d never felt more trapped. Mr. Melbourne had paid for their accommodations, and she had no means to reimburse him, so she’d forced herself to once again remain silent. Furthermore, in a moment when she’d believed there had been no other option, she’d given him her word that she would marry him. Therefore, she would. She had never gone back on her word and wouldn’t now. Her children needed to know remaining true to one’s word, although sometimes difficult, was the right way. The only way.
“Eat,” Brett said quietly. “Before it gets cold.”
She nodded, and though each bite swelled in her throat, she forced it down and took the next one. Just as she would each and every obstacle that came her way. Eventually it would get easier.
At least that was her hope.
When her plate was empty, she set down her fork. Within seconds, Brett handed her the platter that remarkably still held several pieces of fish. It made her think of Jesus feeding the masses, and that was enough to bring tears to her eyes. She hadn’t asked for a miracle, yet it appeared one was happening. With tears stinging her eyes, she shook her head.
“You haven’t eaten enough to keep a bird alive,” Brett said, sliding two more pieces of fish onto her plate. He then added two more eggs to her plate before holding the plate over the center of the table. “Anyone else need more?”
Both boys eagerly accepted the offer, and the man, whose booming voice could startle birds from the trees in the next state, laughed so softly, she may have been the only one to hear it.
When little more than crumbs sat on all the plates and platters circling the table, Fiona said, “I do believe that was the best fish I’ve ever eaten.”
“Me too,” Rhett agreed. “I didn’t even know I liked fish that much.”
Laughter, including hers, filled the room. As it settled, Fiona set her napkin on the table. “Mr. Blackwell, we can’t thank you enough for this fine meal. Therefore, I do hope you won’t mind when I insist upon doing the dishes. It’s the least I can do.”
“That’s not necessary, ma’am,” he said while shaking his head.
“I believe it is,” she said. “And I insist.”
He jumped to his feet to pull her chair back as she prepared to stand. Hoping he understood that she had to repay him in some way, she looked up to meet his gaze.
There was tenderness in his blue eyes, but there was something more, something she wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen before, but an inner, almost foreign instinct said it was respect.
“I will allow you to help with the dishes,” he said. “I’ve been doing them for so long, I’d feel lazy watching you do them all by yourself.”
“Well, I guess that’s fair,” she said, rising to her feet.
“We’ll help,” Wyatt offered.
Lately, there hadn’t been many opportunities for her to feel pride, or be proud of her sons, but she was proud at this moment. The table was cleared in no time, and with her permission, the boys went outside to play. After scraping some soap into the tub of warm water, she started washing the dishes and, upon his insistence, handed them to Brett to dry and put away.
“I—uh—I’m sorry about your husband,” he said when the silence grew a bit thick.
“Thank you,” she said out of courtesy but then broached the subject she’d been contemplating since finding the boys at his house. “I can only imagine what my sons told you.”
“Nothing bad,” Brett said. “Just that their father had died and that you came here to marry Josiah Melbourne because some church lady told you to.”
“That about sums it up,” she admitted.
“Sounds to me like that woman needs to listen to what the preacher’s preaching.”
She couldn’t help but grin. “That may be true, but it was what we needed—the boys and I. A fresh start.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, don’t you have any family?”
“No. My parents died when I was young.”
“Who’d you live with, then?”
“My aunt and uncle. They had several of their own children and were very glad when I married Sam.” She bit the tip of her tongue. It wasn’t like her to blurt out suc
h personal information. If she hadn’t stopped herself, she would have told him she and her sons wouldn’t have been any more welcome with her aunt and uncle now than she had been twenty years ago.
“How old were you when you married your husband?”
“Seventeen. I thought I was old enough. Thought I knew what I wanted.” Grabbing another plate, she clamped her back teeth together. One meal shouldn’t make her feel as if she needed to share her entire life story. She must be overly tired and not thinking straight. Or nervous. Being alone with him had heightened her senses. She could feel him moving about to return the dishes to their rightful places. Knew the exact moment he stepped closer to her again. Like right now. Beneath the wash water, she squeezed her hands into fists to stop them from trembling.
“Oak Grove is a good town,” he said. “You’ll like it once you get to know everyone.”
“I hope so,” she said. “The boys need a place where they feel welcome.” That was better. What the children needed wasn’t a hidden secret.
“We all do,” he said. “Big or little.”
“That’s true.”
“That had to take a lot of guts,” he said. “Courage, I mean. For all of you. Moving away from Ohio.”
He was obviously as nervous as she was, and the idea of that—of a man his size, so capable of so many things, being uneasy—made her grin. Only because in some silly, unfathomable way, it made her relax a bit. “I wouldn’t call it courage,” she said.
“I would. That’s what it takes. Some folks spend their whole lives wishing things would change but never once realize they have to do something to make them change.”
She handed him the last pan and then walked to the table to wipe it down. “You say that like you’ve experienced it firsthand.”
“I have, more than once.”
The thoughtfulness of his tone had her turning around. He merely grinned before turning around to put the pan in the cupboard. Her heart skipped a beat and the swelling in her throat made her swallow, mainly because she couldn’t think of anything to say, even though she’d like to know more. She wanted to know why a man so kindhearted, successful and handsome wasn’t married. Were the women in this town blind? His back was to her, and even that was so fit, so muscular and shapely in how it narrowed from broad, thick shoulders to a trim waist, it awakened that feminine and primal part deep inside her that hadn’t been awakened in a long time. A very long time.
Winning the Mail-Order Bride Page 3
