The Wrong Brother's Bride Read online

  “I promise.”

  She gave him a wide smile before she left, her skirt swaying as she walked up the path. Molly grunted again. He didn’t look away from Loyal until she opened the door and went inside the house.

  He could have gone after her, told her how he felt and kissed her. Taken the heavy weight of his suppressed love off his shoulders. It might frighten her, but she couldn’t run away from it. They were married now. Even Maud’s curled lip couldn’t spoil his happiness. The quick kiss after Irwin confirmed them married wasn’t enough. She’d given him her cheek rather than her lips. He knew if he’d been allowed her mouth, the kiss would’ve gone deeper than was appropriate.

  Irwin and Maud both knew about Loyal’s pregnancy and her intentions to marry Jeremiah. They wouldn’t have approved if he’d kissed her harder. More fuel for their gossip fires, and he didn’t want to subject Loyal to that. They had enough to deal with.

  He turned to Molly. “Once the baby is born, Loyal might like to take a trip. What do you think, girl?”

  Molly rolled her eyes and whuffed.

  “You’re right. She’s more likely to want to stay here.”

  On Jeremiah’s slice of heaven. Right now it was giving August back pains and aching shoulders, but he couldn’t deny there was something satisfying about the work he’d accomplished over the last week. Watching Molly’s foal come into the world was one more thing he could take pride in. His first-born farm animal. Granted, he hadn’t arranged the breeding or picked the stud. Hadn’t planted any crops or plowed fields; nevertheless it was slowly becoming his farm. There was a heady feeling behind the notion. He gave Molly one more look and took a harness from its peg. His farm, a never-ending cumulus of work. The never-ending knowledge that he was doing something worthwhile for the woman he loved, whether she was aware of it or not.

  5

  Loyal carried a clay mug across the yard. A smattering of stars brightened the sky and a lantern burned inside the barn, guiding her way. About three hours had passed since she’d been outside. Surely there was some news.

  Sorry wagged his tail, hoping for another treat. She instructed him to stay at the barn door with a hand motion. August stood peering into Molly’s stall.

  The coffee sloshed against the cup rim. “Is something wrong?”

  He started and turned. “She’s having trouble. Only one leg is out. The other must be folded under. She needs help.”

  Fear for the horse welled up inside her chest. “Can you do that?”

  She set the coffee cup on a barrel, and then approached the stall. Sweat drenched Molly’s coat and she made grunting noises, blowing hard through her nose.

  “I think so. I’ve seen it done.” He didn’t move, seeming reluctant to try.

  “Shouldn’t we do it now?”

  His blue-gray gaze shifted from the mare. “I wish there was someone else here to help.”

  “It won’t be pretty.” She didn’t have to ask. During the early spring she’d witnessed Jeremiah pull three lambs. Twice the mothers hadn’t survived and the lambs had to be nursed by other ewes. “Will Molly be alright?”

  “I hope so. I wish there was another way, but you’ll have to hold her head. I’m not sure she’ll stay down long enough without another person helping.” August’s posture was rigid, his face grim.

  “I can do it.” She pushed her shoulders back. “I’m not afraid of horses.”

  His gaze dropped to her stomach. “Good. You’ve got to make sure she doesn’t thrash or get up. It could be dangerous.”

  She looked at the horse’s heaving sides. August and Molly needed her assistance. “I can do it.”

  “I’ll try to be quick.” August opened the stall door and held it for her. “Talk to her. It might keep her calm.”

  Loyal approached the mare and kneeled by her head. “Poor Molly Mare. I know you’re in pain. Soon you’ll have a foal and you’ll forget about it.” She brushed her hand over the mare’s cheek and wrapped her fingers around her halter. With one hand on Molly’s neck and the halter firmly in her grip, she nodded at August.

  He rolled his sleeve up and rested on his knees near Molly’s rump.

  The mare lifted her head a fraction, eyeing August.

  Loyal nudged her down.

  “Still only one leg showing.” He shook his head. “Sometimes the problem corrects itself. We weren’t so lucky this time.”

  Loyal kept her eyes on the horse and held tight when Molly’s body jerked. August swore under his breath.

  “Sorry.” She risked a glance at him, noting the sweat on his forehead and the strain on his face.

  “It’s not anything you did. She’s about to break my arm. I’m searching for a knee the size of a half dollar in a canal no bigger than my thigh. Shared with a decent-sized foal.” He winced. “Head, shoulder. There should be…” He fell silent except for a grunt. “A second leg.”

  Molly let out a deep groan and August swore again.

  Loyal pressed her weight against the mare’s neck. Molly didn’t try to rise, but her eyes rolled. Loyal’s heartbeat filled her ears as she watched August’s face. He relaxed a little and the worry constricting her chest loosened.

  “I know, darlin’. It’s not the ideal place for a man’s hand.” He leaned back, shaking his fingers. “Got two hooves showing now. You can let her go.”

  “Really? How long do you think it’ll be?” Loyal stroked Molly’s sweaty neck.

  “Not long now. I need to wash up.” He held his arm away from his body. “Come on out and wait. She doesn’t want anyone watching too closely. It’s their instinct to be secretive when foals are born.”

  Loyal gave Molly another pat. “You did good, girl.” She rose and followed August out of the stall. “You probably saved her life.”

  He nodded. “She’s tired. It’s hard on them to wait. I hope the foal is alright. Maybe I should have tried to free it sooner.” Worry wrinkled his brow as they rounded the barn for the rain barrel they kept out back.

  “You did the best you could. No one could’ve tried harder. If I’d been here alone, I couldn’t have helped her. She’d have kicked me or gotten up, and I would have been useless.” Loyal drew a bucket of water and held it while he washed. The truth of her words sank in. It was difficult knowing she wasn’t much use on the farm.

  August shook his head. “You’d have gone for a neighbor without waiting. Molly would have been fine. No one would’ve had you holding her down. It was risky.”

  “I was safe with you.” The bucket shook in her hands. “I wasn’t afraid, except for the horse’s life.”

  He wiped his hands on his trousers. “She’s calm, which made it easier. Jeremiah did a good job training her.”

  A knot formed in her throat. Lucky for the mare, August had known what to do. She couldn’t fault him for waiting and hoping the foal would emerge on its own if he was right about how they were born. He had recognized Molly’s problem and corrected it as soon as he was certain she needed him.

  “He let me spend time talking to her and grooming her. She’s more my horse than his. I haven’t ridden much in years, so it didn’t matter that she couldn’t have a saddle on her back.”

  “I might have guessed, given how often you sneak treats to her.” He flashed a smile that made her heart jump.

  “Not every day.” She blushed under his intense stare. “Only most days.”

  “Let’s go back and see how she’s doing.” August took the bucket from her and dumped it. “If we’re quiet, she’ll feel more relaxed. It’ll happen sooner if she isn’t worrying about outside distractions.”

  “How do you know so much about horses?”

  “We used mostly geldings to pull the log sleighs and wagons. I worked in a livery during the winters. Mares in foal are sometimes traded in for a more useful horse. We had a few colts born right before I’d go back to the logging camp. You pick up things if you watch close enough.” He rolled his shirtsleeve down and fastened the buttons. “I should
have asked if you were alright.”

  She waved his concern away. “Of course I am. I saw plenty of lambing the last few years.”

  “You make a good assistant.” The praise was a little gruff, but it made her smile.

  “Thank you.”

  He rubbed his neck, fidgeting like a boy who didn’t know what to say. Loyal had stopped thinking of him as a boy the first time he’d gotten arrested. She couldn’t recall ever seeing him act shy.

  His eyes raked over her stomach again. “Promise you’ll be careful around her until the baby is born. We’ll give her a few days inside without the other horses around so she can care for her foal before we put her in the pasture. I’ll turn her out from now on. The horses are big and they might not mean to hurt you, but sometimes it happens.”

  His demeanor surprised her. Fancy that. August O’Dell caring for someone else’s well-being.

  “Molly wouldn’t hurt me on purpose.”

  “She might on accident.” He adjusted the angle of his hat, even though it was dark and he hardly needed it to keep the sun from his eyes. Maybe righting the foal’s leg had shaken him. Loyal reached out, lacing her fingers between his. A few water droplets still clung to his hand. The pads of his fingers and palm were roughened from work. They were warm and shaped differently than his brother’s. The bones were prominent and delicate despite his stature.

  He squeezed her fingers, clearly caught off guard by her action. When she wriggled her hand, his grip loosened. She didn’t let go. His touch was comforting. She’d missed holding hands with another person.

  “Thank you for caring.”

  For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. She pushed a loose strand of hair from her face, sure he’d found an imperfection to dwell on. Unsure why she bothered—it wasn’t as though they’d married for the other’s good looks, although he wasn’t hard on the eyes—she forced herself to maintain eye contact. They were stuck together for the duration, even if he developed a hunchback and she lost every hair on her head. The thought made her laugh.

  “Seems I’ve missed the joke.” August didn’t pull away as he spoke. He stared, steady as a stone fence, waiting for her explanation.

  “I thought about how we’d look in a few years. You have a hump and I don’t have any hair. It’s silly.” She fought a smile. “We’re missing Molly’s moment.”

  He tugged her hand, moving toward the barn again. “Must be all those books you read as a girl. You have unusual ideas. I suppose that’s better than when you laughed at my proposal.”

  “Oh, August. I didn’t mean anything by it. You surprised me. Those were the last words I ever thought I’d hear pass between your lips.” Realizing she was digging a deeper hole, she clamped her mouth shut.

  “I suppose everyone had me pegged for an outlaw. Maybe they’d recognize me on a Wanted poster one day.” Bitterness made his voice hard, the lines on his face deeper.

  Sympathy welled in Loyal’s chest. “I’m sorry. Truthfully, I don’t think anyone’s given you much thought since about six months after you left. Except me and Jeremiah.”

  He glanced at her then stared straight ahead. “You thought about me?”

  “Of course. Jeremiah spoke about you so often you were almost here with us.” She looked through the barn doors. Sorry waited for them, thumping his tail on the ground. “Molly’s still lying down. You don’t think…”

  “I hate to bring the veterinarian out tonight.” A fresh frown darkened his features. He slipped his hand free and put his arm out to keep her from getting too close to the stall. His precaution wasn’t necessary. She hated seeing Molly in pain. Her heart would break if Molly died giving birth.

  “You can look. She’s doing fine.” August’s voice was low and gentle, threaded with a touch of awe.

  She took a breath to ease the tightness around her heart and looked over the stall door. The foal’s shoulders were out. It had dark legs, a tawny body, and a smudged star across its damp forehead. Molly gave a grunt and tucked her front legs beneath her, struggled to her feet and the foal slipped free.

  For a brief moment, the mare looked at them, blinking her big brown eyes. She turned to her foal and licked its wet coat. A deep whicker left her throat. The foal’s oversized ears flicked and it lifted its head, looking dazed.

  “She’s telling him to get up,” August whispered.

  Tears blurred Loyal’s vision. She dabbed her eyes and when she hung her hand at her side again, August took it. He didn’t twine their fingers together, just engulfed her hand in his. Loyal looked away from the horses, surprised by his touch.

  August met her gaze and smiled. Her mouth went dry as she realized how handsome he looked with straw clinging to his clothes and excitement in his expression. If she had to share this moment with anyone, she was glad it was him.

  The foal made a clumsy attempt to rise. Molly’s tender ministrations made it lose its balance.

  Loyal leaned close to August. “Should you help him?”

  “He’ll get it.” Said with confidence. “They walk right away. It’s instinct.”

  It took the newborn three more tries before it had all four legs beneath it. They were splayed wide, but Molly nickered with pride and continued to administer its bath.

  “Can you see if it’s a colt or a filly?” The foal was angled away from her and its tail flipped so fast, she couldn’t tell the gender. It wobbled toward Molly’s flank without alleviating Loyal’s curiosity.

  “We’d best wait until she’s less nervous,” he advised.

  She looked down and realized he still held her hand. Warmth flowed through her. In a special moment they’d shared, he had reached out for her.

  “Alright. In the morning?”

  “We can try. Hungry little fella.”

  The foal found Molly’s teat and its tail worked faster as it drank.

  August looked at her. “Let’s go back to the house. She won’t need us anymore tonight.” His hand fell away and loss tugged at her heart. She wouldn’t have minded holding his hand on the way up the path. Struggling for the reason she felt that way, she exited the barn before him and patted Sorry’s head, snapping her fingers, signaling for him to follow along. Strange that she’d spent a portion of her wedding night watching a foal come into the world when the reason for her marriage was to provide for her child. Hand over her stomach, she paused on the path.

  “Loyal?”

  August’s voice washed over her. She could have pretended he was Jeremiah, turned, and claimed a kiss. It would probably shock him more than a punch on the nose. Tonight she should have been curled next to a man she loved and trusted. But soon she’d be tucked into bed alone except for her thoughts.

  “Waiting for you.” She smiled and it felt like her face would crack. With the darkness, he probably couldn’t see it anyway. Or the loss she felt.

  “Go on in. I think I’ll sit on the porch a while.”

  He had to be as exhausted as she was. She wondered if there were things he needed to think through before coming inside.

  “Good night.” A proper wife might kiss her husband on the cheek at least. She didn’t feel ready for that. So far they’d developed a friendly relationship. Best not to rush into anything.

  “Thanks for your help. I couldn’t have saved the foal without you.”

  Under the stars, she made out his face. The line of his cheek, the crook in his nose, and familiar stubborn chin. The slightest curve of his lips. The same set she’d avoided kissing earlier in the day. For a moment she allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to kiss him fully. A pang struck her heart. Although she was a new bride, she’d lost her first love. Her feelings were confused because they’d worked together to help Molly.

  “My pleasure.” She winced at her words. There hadn’t been anything pleasant about the task, at least not until the foal was up. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “’Night, Loyal.”

  She sucked a breath through her teeth and turned
away without saying anything else.

  6

  Loyal had been awake for an hour before daylight, though she hadn’t summoned the energy to rise. Nearly four months into her pregnancy, she still suffered stomach-twisting morning sickness. August would need a hearty meal before he began working. She couldn’t lie in bed while he labored with the crops.

  The faint scent of coffee crept under the crack beneath the door. Dizziness washed over her and she lay back against her pillow. Getting dressed and going into the kitchen seemed impossible.

  Behind the door, the tin coffee percolator clanked against the stovetop. August’s heavy footsteps carried him across the room, each one pounding into her head like a nail. A few minutes more with her eyes closed to stop the room from spinning and she’d be fine. He probably didn’t have the faintest idea about cooking. Yes, she could tolerate frying meat and eggs. Never mind those running yellow yolks spreading across a grease-covered pan. She blocked the image from her mind. She kept a night jar near the bed. Neither getting up nor using it appealed to her. If August heard, she’d never be able to look him in the eye again.

  He knocked on the door and she dragged a pillow over her face. There was no time to brush her hair or put on a dress. He opened the door without asking. “Loyal?”

  “I’ll be up in a few minutes.” Or in the afternoon, if her stomach didn’t stop churning.

  The pillow slipped away from her face and she cracked an eye.

  August wore a frown that strained his features. “I made tea. It might help your stomach.” He bent low over the bed. “Sit up a little and tell me if it’s the right strength.”

  “You’re being a gentleman.” She sat, more from surprise than because she wanted to try his brew.

  “It’s been known to happen.” The frown was replaced with an amused smile. He lifted a teacup from a tray. His big hand almost swallowed the dainty china, but he presented it with all the care of a devoted servant. Or a husband showing genuine sympathy for his wife.

  “How did you know?” she asked, accepting the cup. Steam wafted off the top of the dark liquid.