Winning The Mail-Order Bride. Lauri RobinsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
told us to go outside and not come back in until he leaves and that was a long time ago.”
Carrying the empty bucket and shovel, Brett started walking back toward his house. “Probably because he has some important business to talk about with your folks.”
“Like when he’s gonna marry our ma.”
Brett stumbled slightly. “Marry your ma? Where’s your pa?”
“Got hisself killed back in Ohio,” Wyatt said. “That’s why we had to move here, and why Ma has to marry the mayor.”
The mayor prided himself on being from Ohio, and it was an acquaintance of his rounding up brides from there—which made Brett ask, “Did your ma know the mayor when he lived in Ohio?”
“No. The preacher’s wife told Ma she had to come out here and marry the mayor ’cause folks at the church didn’t want us there no more.”
That didn’t sound like a thing any preacher’s wife should say and Brett couldn’t stop himself from asking, “She did?”
“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.