Because Jenny asked me to, that’s how.
Addie sniffled again, but finally did as commanded, giving Harrison a chance to dampen a cloth and clean her up, before tossing the soiled rag and her gown onto the floor. Then he cursed under his breath, recalling what both contained. A puddle of pee had settled into the wood from where the child dribbled across the room. Well, he’d have to deal with it later.
Somehow, he managed to hold down the squirming Addie long enough to get the diaper on and tied in front, willing it to stay put. Her pinafore buttoned down the front and this he managed to wrestle on despite her wriggles.
He hefted the child to return her to the rug so he could clean up the mess littering his table and floor. As he swung her into his arms, Addie patted his cheeks with both hands and smiled at him sweetly. In that moment, she looked so much like her mother that Harrison found himself smiling back.
Right about then, his annoying brother charged through the door separating foyer and parlor, coming to a screeching halt within smelling distance of the soiled diaper. His rounded eyes took in everything, brows arched quizzically.
As usual, Frank resembled a wild man, his full beard unkempt and his long dark hair in knots. God only knew what he’d been doing that had torn out both knees of his pants. His shirt was equally ragged, the wool stained and badly wrinkled. He stank of cheap perfume and blood.
Something involving women, whiskey, and no doubt brawling. Then again, today was hog-butcherin’ day. Might explain the blood stink.
Addie blinked at Harrison, then at Frank. Her tiny mouth opened and she let loose with a screeching, “Mama.”
~ ~ ~
From a deep sleep, Retta shot up at the sound of her daughter’s cry. “Oh my God.” She unwound herself from the heavy quilt and made it to the spare bedroom before her mind had fully cleared from sleep. Her heart sank at the sight of an empty bed. Images of Harrison hitting her baby made her stomach wrench, and she doubled over for the briefest second to catch her breath before charging out of the room and running down the hallway.
Reaching the parlor, she took in the morning sun pouring in from the largest window. Her father would have beat her for sleeping so late. Then she spotted Harrison, holding her wriggling daughter, who waved her arms around like a dervish, shrieking at the top of her lungs.
By the time Retta’s fuddled mind registered the intimidating man in the doorway, she was about ready to faint. With his mane of hair and full beard, the behemoth resembled a black bear she’d once seen in a painting hanging on the wall of Bolster’s First Bank and Trust.
Retta quickly closed the distance between her and her child, facing a scowling Harrison.
She held out her arms, locking her shaking knees to keep upright. “P-Please give her to me.” Despite her enforced bravado, there was no stopping her instinctive flinch when he made a move toward her. Eyes pinched shut, the sound of her panicked breathing roared in her ears before she managed to wrestle her emotions under control.
Opening her eyes, Retta took in Harrison’s glowering expression. His flexing jaw made him appear to be chewing on a particularly tough piece of meat. Without a word, he dumped Addie into her arms. Immediately quieting, her daughter clung to Retta’s neck, shuddering and damp from sobbing.
Retta glanced toward the bearded man and found a matching scowl on his face. Edging back, she reached behind her with her free arm and gripped the corner of an occasional table. What would these men do to her and Adeline? Making amends to Harrison had to be her first priority. Her husband could do whatever he wanted with her.
She licked her lips. Unable to meet Harrison’s penetrating stare, she focused instead on his chest. If it was just her, she’d hold her ground, but she had her little girl to think about. “I’m sorry I overslept.” She swallowed hard. “It won’t happen again.”
The silence in the room grew thick with tension, and Retta braced herself, shielding her daughter against the blow she feared was coming.
The deep voice of the man across the room growled out, “What the hell, Harrison?”
Retta instinctively met his stare. But instead of ire, his frown held confusion. Her gaze lowered to the floor, holding her baby closer. Everything had happened so fast she’d been running on instinct, but now her mind scrambled for a way out of this mess. What could she say to appease these two men so they didn’t hurt her and Addie?
“Not now, Frank.” Harrison’s voice sounded weary, but it didn’t hold the anger she’d expected. “Retta, look at me,” he said softly.
Addie had grown calm, her thumb in her mouth, her other hand playing with Retta’s hair. But though her worry had receded some, Retta couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
“Retta,” Harrison repeated, placing a finger under her chin and forcing her head up. The gray eyes that met hers were gentle. “I would never hurt you or Adeline. You don’t have to fear me. Ever.”
Could she trust his words? After every brutal beating from her drunken papa, he’d promise the same thing. But that never stopped it from happening again.
Still resting his fingers under her chin, his eyes searched her face. “Would you like to meet my brother?” Before she could utter a word, Harrison nodded toward the bearded mountain man. “Frank, I’d like to present my wife, Retta Pierce Carter. And this little cutie is her daughter, Adeline. My daughter now.”
The way he claimed her and Addie, the sudden, possessive gleam in his eyes, caused her emotions to churn.
Footsteps drew near them. Retta found herself meeting another set of familiar gray eyes.
When Harrison’s touch fell away, she felt a moment of regret, then resolutely faced his brother.
Chapter 4
All their lives, Harrison had dealt with Frank’s surly nature. And though only a year older, Frank tended to think of himself as some kind of second father to Harrison and their baby sister, Vivian. It would no doubt get worse next year when Vivian and their widowed mother finally joined them in Little Creede.
Overbearing and often downright sarcastic, Frank at least treated women with respect. Harrison preferred not to think about the way his brother acted around the bar maids he dallied with. Wasn’t any of his business.
Frank crossed muscled arms over a massive chest and studied Retta. Harrison waited to see what would happen next. Frank’s thick brows formed a straight line over his eyes. Since his brother would be an integral part of her life here in Little Creede, she’d have to learn to get along with the curmudgeon. But given Frank’s usual orneriness, Harrison remained ready to jump to her aid.
The bright morning sun backlit Retta’s frilly cotton nightgown, revealing a suggestion of gentle curves and soft shadows. Harrison flexed his jaw, fighting against a growing awareness of his bride. To his credit, Frank’s regard of Retta never wavered below eye-level. Good thing, or Harrison would have been obliged to punch him out purely on principle.
He was impressed at the way Retta held her ground, given her fear only moments earlier. She took in her new brother-by-marriage from the top of his unkempt hair to the tips of his mud-coated boots. Though her eyes widened a bit at the hog’s blood slashed across Frank’s work shirt.
Finally, she parted her lips and murmured, “Mister Carter. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.” The words were uttered softly, politely.
“Missus Carter.” Frank offered a quick head-nod, before regarding Harrison. He tugged on his beard. “Wanna tell me what happened to Jenny?”
A choked cry sounded from Retta. Addie, who had been curled contentedly against her mother, started whining.
“E-Excuse me, please.” Without another word, Retta hurried down the hall with Addie, carrying her toward the spare bedroom. The door slammed shut, but not before they both heard the sound of her crying.
Harrison scrubbed rough palms against h
is eyes and muttered, “Well, shit.”
Frank grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the front door. “All right, little brother. Outside, now. And start talkin.’ I want to know what the hell is goin’ on.”
~ ~ ~
Slumped on the edge of the bed, Retta cradled her daughter, stroking her damp, tumbled curls. Adeline was such a happy, bouncy child, despite two years of exposure to a grandfather who disliked her very existence. Shy at times, yes. But usually not overly-clingy. Retta hated that circumstances had put her in a position to cause her darling any kind of anxiety.
Addie cuddled closer, gripping the high-necked collar of Retta’s nightgown. “Mama.” Her breath stuttered out in a sigh.
Retta pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, nuzzling the satiny skin. Her arms tightened as she rocked her little girl, until Addie’s eyelids drooped. Glancing toward the door, Retta struggled with her own emotions.
Hearing her sister’s name on a stranger’s lips had hurt her heart. Of course, Harrison’s brother would know of his betrothal and the imminent arrival of Jenny. Seeing another woman—in a nightgown, no less—holding a child, had to have shocked him. Frank Carter appeared to be a gruff sort of fellow. She supposed several years of hard mining would do that to anyone, even to the genteel dandies she’d seen now and then in the parlors of Bolster. How could it not?
And yet, Harrison seemed different. Perhaps because he’d had Jenny waiting for him, someone’s love to anticipate and build upon. And instead, he got me.
What would the townsfolk think? Would she once again become the subject of ridicule?
Overwhelmed with a sense of loneliness, and missing her sister, Retta blinked away tears. Feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t help. Neither would suffocating grief. Jenny was in good, safe hands. Aunt Millie would take such excellent care of her. God willing, Jenny would thrive far past the shortened life other consumption sufferers must have dealt with.
I have to hold on to that hope.
Easing Addie into a more comfortable position against her shoulder, Retta wiped at the damp trails on her cheeks and took in a deep, cleansing breath. Her duty now was to her child. Her husband. And her new life here in Little Creede.
A soft knock on the door broke into her musings. She swallowed against an aching throat and managed a calm, “Yes, come in.”
Harrison’s wide shoulders filled up the open doorway. He studied her and Addie for a long moment as her heart raced. Parting his lips to speak, he paused, then nodded toward her little girl, a question in his gaze.
Retta offered a faint smile. “It’s all right. You won’t wake her.” She gestured toward the edge of the mattress with her chin.
Harrison crossed the room, seating himself gingerly, and resting his elbows on his thighs. “I’m sorry—”
“Listen, I—”
Retta’s breath caught, as a sliver of fear curled in her belly for interrupting him. Papa would have backhanded her for such impertinence.
When Harrison lifted a large hand to gesture for her to continue, Retta flinched. Everything she had thought to say clogged up in her lungs, along with her breath.
For a brief instant, anger flared across his face, before his expression smoothed, revealing none of his thoughts.
He spoke, his tone soothing. “Retta, you have nothing to fear from me or Frank. My brother may seem a bit rough, but he’s a good man. And I would never harm you or your daughter.”
She shifted nervously. Was he telling her the truth? As Addie wriggled slightly, yawning, Retta repositioned her against one shoulder and rubbed her back gently. “Does Frank like children?”
“Steamed, with potatoes and extra gravy, I suspect.” At her shocked gasp, Harrison grinned. “Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound sorry at all, “just teasin’.”
The ball of tension inside her began to loosen as she dared to believe Jenny’s vow that Harrison was a decent man. Her stiff shoulders relaxed.
He studied her with a thoughtful expression. “He deals with children well enough.” Reaching out carefully, Harrison stroked Addie’s curls with a gentle palm. “She’s a sweet child. I bet she’ll wrap her Uncle Frank right around her little finger.”
He rose, extending his hand. “Want to find out? Will you let me introduce you properly to my brother? I talked to him. Explained a few things.”
Retta fingered the silk ribbon at the high neck of her nightgown. Heat rose to her cheeks. “I would like that, as soon as I, um, make myself decent.” She stood, cradling her daughter. “Five minutes?”
“Take your time.” Harrison ambled toward the half-open door. “And, Retta? I think you’re charmingly decent, as is.” He firmly shut the door behind him, leaving her gaping and hot with a flush she swore now covered her from head to bare toes.
~ ~ ~
Frank lounged against the window, staring out, as Harrison checked on the coffee pot. He worked silently, using a bit of pork fat to grease the skillet he’d set on the griddle, then cracking eggs into a shallow bowl. “Want them scrambled?”
Frank turned from the window and fixed him with a frown. “Why isn’t your wife cooking breakfast?”
“Because she’s exhausted, you jackass. With what happened yesterday— Look, I’m not going to explain it all again.” Harrison grabbed a fork and started whipping the eggs into a foamy mess. “Just be nice. Can you do that?”
Frank glowered, his bushy brows forming a straight line over his eyes, and dropped into the nearest chair. “I’m always nice to women.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Sure you are,” Harrison said sarcastically. He dumped the eggs into the hot skillet and stirred them. “Make yourself useful and pour the coffee.”
As Frank expelled a loud, put-upon sigh and lumbered from his chair, there was a movement in the kitchen archway. Retta appeared, wearing a brown gathered skirt and a white ruffled blouse, her hair tied back with a scrap of lace. Addie rested in her mother’s arm, her thumb firmly plugged in her rosebud mouth, drowsily content.
Retta ventured forward then halted, glancing from Frank, to Harrison. She looked utterly lovely, standing there in her sensible clothes, their plainness somehow framing her stunning features, making them stand out in the sunny room.
Under his steady perusal, a lovely blush stained her cheeks. Then Frank cleared his throat, and the moment was lost.
Pulling the skillet off the griddle, Harrison wiped his suddenly damp hands on the seat of his trousers and moved toward his wife. He gently caught her elbow and guided her forward, until she stood between him and Frank. “Can we try this again?” At her brief nod, Harrison gave her arm a squeeze. “Retta, may I present my brother, Frank.”
A dimple appeared at the corner of her mouth when she sketched a quick, graceful curtsey.
“Mister Carter, I apologize for my earlier outburst of emotion. I am surely glad to meet you,” Retta murmured. Shifting Addie to free up a hand, she held it out to Frank.
With a sober expression, he took her fingers in his big paw, and brought them to his mouth. Retta’s eyes widened as he pressed a brief kiss across her knuckles and rasped, “I sure didn’t mean to make you cry, ma’am.”
He might have said more, but just then Addie’s thumb popped out of her rosy little mouth and she giggled, staring straight at her new uncle. Before Harrison could react, she lifted her tousled head from Retta’s shoulder and stretched the wet digit toward Frank in a kind of babyish salute. Her lips parted in a smile that revealed pearly teeth.
Letting go of Retta’s hand, he gaped, first at the young girl, then her mother who looked just as surprised. It was the first time Harrison had ever seen him at a complete loss. “Uh,” Frank began.
“Hi,” Addie’s childish peep broke in. She wriggled, reaching out to Frank and bouncing in Retta’s arms.
&n
bsp; “I think she wants a hug,” Harrison managed somberly.
Taking a hasty step back, Frank’s dark eyebrows crawled up in horror. “I’m all dirty.”
Retta spoke up. “I don’t think she’ll mind.” She loosened her grip on Addie.
His new daughter latched on to Frank’s shirt lapels. He grabbed her around the waist, then stood frozen as the tiny girl faced him squarely and rubbed her pudgy fingers over his eyelashes, sighing in delight.
“She likes the feel of eyelashes,” Retta offered helpfully. Her gaze met Harrison’s, bright humor washing away the last of the worry he’d spotted in her eyes earlier.
Nodding, he cleared his throat. “Yep, Uncle Frank does have some uncommonly pretty lashes.”
“You—” Frank began then clamped his jaw shut and managed a tight-lipped smile aimed at his brand-new niece who had jabbed her wet thumb in one of his ears.
Retta clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh that held an edge of obvious relief.
“You can hold her,” she managed. “She likes to be hugged.”
Gingerly, as if he held live gunpowder, Frank brought Addie to his chest, then gaped again when she laid her head trustingly against his shoulder and puffed out a tiny sigh. Her thickly lashed eyes fluttered, then closed. She popped her thumb back into her mouth.
“Um, maybe I should sit down. I don’t want to drop her.” Hastily, Frank scuttled to his vacated chair and sank onto its hard surface, Addie molded to his chest like a little barnacle. With a hint of panic in his voice, he asked, “Is she hungry? She can, um, have some of my eggs.”
A wide grin covering his face, Harrison moved to the stove and grabbed the skillet’s handle. “Coming right up.” He paused, then added with a grin, “Uncle Frank.”
Chapter 5
Pulling in on the reins in front of the mercantile, Harrison clucked his tongue softly, the brief command enough to bring the enormous bronze-colored horse to a stop. Retta tightened her grip on Addie as a precaution, but the sturdy buckboard wagon only shuddered a bit. As the horse—Copper, she recalled—tossed his head and snorted, she ran a quick hand over her bonnet to assure it hadn’t blown sideways on the trip into town.
The Substitute Wife (Brides of Little Creede Book 1) Page 4