Three under the Mistletoe: A Christmas Menage Romance (Christmas Billionaire Menage Series Book 1)

by Tia Siren

  It was fairly late, but Andrew had kept a pot of beef stew on the fire, waiting for her to get there to feed them all.

  “I hope you like beef stew.”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  It would be the first time she had eaten a meal she had not prepared herself. She found it to be one of the tastiest meals she’d ever eaten. It made her wonder if she was not the good cook she thought she was. That brought a secret smile to her face.

  She was catching looks of approval from Andrew and was glad of that. She was slender, had been told she was pretty and had a strong sense of self-esteem that probably had come naturally from her father. Though strict, her father had always been fair.

  Andrew wasn’t strict with his boys. In fact, she noticed quickly that he let them have their way more often than not. She was shocked that they were well-behaved at all, considering he treated them like they were not responsible for anything. She had arrived on a Saturday night and was expecting church in the morning. When no one seemed to be up early enough, she asked Andrew whether they were going.

  He seemed surprised but proceeded to get his sons ready to go. Their loud protests let her know going to church was not a common occurrence.

  Once again, she was shocked by their behavior in public, not that they were rowdy but that they were not. They stayed quiet and still all through the service, with the exception of Carl, who had taken to leaning over and whispering loudly in her ear anything that came to his mind. She had a quick, strong affection for Carl, who seemed to be the sweetest little boy she’d ever met.

  After the service, Andrew introduced her to everyone he knew in a proud tone that made her feel special. Carl held on to her hand or her skirt the whole time, forgoing his tag game with his brothers for the first time.

  Before they reached the wagon, Ella felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Myrtle Leamon, Andrew’s sister, giving her a wide smile. “Hello, Ella,” She said, warmly, pulling the young woman into an abrupt hug. “I’m so glad you are here to help Andrew with his boys. He needs help, as I’m sure you’ve seen.”

  “Myrtle, don’t you start now,” Andrew said, good-naturedly, lifting Carl up into the wagon. He smiled at her, and she returned it with one of her own. She looked back at Ella.

  “That’s my brother. He’s such a card.”

  “Which one?” Andrew asked.

  “Oh you.” Myrtle shook her head. “Now, Ella, I’m going to come by in the morning and help you settle in. Is that all right with you?”

  Ella nodded. “I would love that, Myrtle, thank you!”

  “It’s my pleasure, believe me. Andrew needs someone, as I said. And you look absolutely lovely, honey.”

  “Thank you again.” Ella’s cheeks flushed, making her look even prettier.

  “If you need anything, such as cleaning supplies or groceries, we will gather them from the garden or come to town to the market. Does that sound good?”

  “It sounds very good, Myrtle. Thank you.”

  Myrtle just laughed and nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning about seven.”

  “All right, see you then!”

  The next morning, Ella woke up just as Andrew was leaving for work. She heard him in the kitchen moving around. The boys were all still asleep in their beds upstairs. They each had their own room, which they were very proud of. Carl had made a point to show her every inch of his room, all of his wooden horse figurines and soldiers. Peter had also allowed her to look in his room, which he kept immaculate. Neither Freddie nor Raymond invited her to their rooms, and she didn’t push.

  She wondered what time they usually got up. Before she could talk to him to ask, Andrew was gone.

  She smelled the scent of rich coffee floating down the hallway to her and smiled. At least, he had done that for her. He had been quiet during dinner, letting the boys chatter with each other. She hadn’t spoken much, just listened to what they had to say. They had stories to tell, and she felt like most of them were wild tales of adventure that these four boys had never experienced. She refused to think of them as “lies” because the boys were so young and it was fruitful to encourage their imagination. If the stories had been about damaging another person’s property or well-being, she would have stepped in or talked to Andrew about it. But they were tales of boyhood dreams and competition between the four of them in racing, playing ball, racing their safety bikes around the farm. If they had as many of the adventures as they claimed, Ella was sure they had been left on their own for quite some time.

  She made herself a cup of coffee and sat at the table to think for a moment. The house, though dusty, was easy to clean. With the children asleep and the sun just coming over the mountains in the distance, Ella felt comfortable and quiet for the very first time in a long time. She sighed and breathed in the scent of the coffee and enjoyed the steam rising from it on her cool face.

  She thought about her brothers and was just beginning to miss them when she heard a knock at the door and someone coming through it. She assumed it was Myrtle and called out, “I’m in the kitchen, Myrtle.”

  It was her sister-in-law who came through into the kitchen, smiling at her. “Good morning, Ella. You look very relaxed!”

  Ella smiled. “I am. The boys are still asleep. Don’t they go to the schoolhouse?”

  Myrtle snorted in a very unladylike fashion, making Ella chuckle. “No. Andrew doesn’t believe in that.” Her tone was very sarcastic, and she rolled her eyes. She set her umbrella down by the door and came to the table, stripping light gloves from her hands. She untied and pulled off her bonnet, as well. “One of the first things you will need to do, my girl,” she said. “Is get yourself some lighter clothing. You’ve got all that Eastern cloth going on, and you are going to overheat quickly. By noon, it will be much too warm to be wearing any kind of layers.”

  “That’s what Andrew said, too,” Ella replied. “But I’m not sure how to buy them. I have no money.”

  Myrtle fixed herself a cup of water and sat at the table so that she was catty-cornered to Ella. She shook her head. “You don’t worry about that. I will take you to the dressmaker in town, and you can put it on credit. Andrew and I have always had a line of credit there. He will go back and pay it at the end of the week. I’m certain he would not want you wandering around in all those clothes, but you can’t run around in your petticoat! So we will get you better boots and some dresses that will let your body air out and not overheat.”

  Ella nodded. “Thank you. That sounds wonderful. You know you can have some coffee, don’t you?”

  Myrtle scrunched up her nose and shook her head. “Can’t stand the stuff. I prefer tea all day long.”

  “I can make you some tea.” She stood up, but Myrtle held up her hand and placed it on Ella’s arm.

  “Now don’t you bother with that, dear. I don’t want you thinking you have to be my host. I want to help you get used to being here and helping these boys because…” She pulled in a sigh and looked at her sympathetically. “…my brother hasn’t been able to find anyone who would stay to help with them. He’s had several women come from town to be housekeepers…not his wife, mind you, and he didn’t take any of them to his bed…but they wouldn’t stay. I think it’s because…well, the boys can be unruly. And I felt you should be warned.”

  Ella felt a little uncomfortable with the thought that she needed to be warned. She wondered anxiously what was in store for her. “Surely they can’t be that bad.”

  “You just need to watch and be careful. They won’t hurt you, but they will probably pull a few pranks on you that will have you wondering if you made the wrong decision coming here. I don’t want you to think that. I want you to stay. I already like you.” She gave Ella a warm smile.

  “I have three younger brothers that I’ve been raising since I was ten years old.”

  Myrtles dark eyebrows shot up, and she shook her head, making her black curls shake like dark leaves on a tree. “What? That’s something else. Did you lose yo
ur mother at that age?”

  “Yes, she died in childbirth. I raised my brothers from that point on. Dave is 21, he’s five years younger than me. Oscar is 19 and Al, he’s the baby. He is 16. My mother died giving birth to him. She had a bleeding problem.”

  “I am so sorry to hear that, Ella.” Myrtle placed a hand on hers and gave her a sympathetic look. Ella just shook her head.

  “It’s been a very long time now, Myrtle. I feel very little pain at the loss now. I took this position and decided to be Andrew’s bride because I have a lot of experience with boys.”

  “Did your brothers ever put frogs in your bed or spike your coffee with lemon?”

  Ella laughed softly. “No, they didn’t. But I’m not afraid of frogs and a bit of lemon might pucker my lips but won’t kill me. I’m sure I will be fine.”

  Myrtle’s smile made her brown eyes sparkle. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that, my dear. I have been praying for a long time that someone would come along to help my brother out. He has been very stressed since Liz passed away five years ago. He hasn’t been doing well on his own at all. He took Raymie and Freddie out of school, which I objected to but he wouldn’t listen to me. And he never sent them back. I don’t know why because all they do is run around her like wildmen.”

  “I will see that they return to school,” Ella said. “An education is very important. Those boys need it to succeed in life.”

  “Try convincing my brother of that. I would like to see it.”

  Chapter Four

  Myrtle had been correct when she told Ella that the boys were unruly. She was actually a little surprised by how little discipline Andrew had given them in the last five years. She was somewhat surprised they didn’t all have hair down to their waists and no bathtime each week. She had quickly discovered during the first week that bathing and rubbing their teeth clean were two things Andrew insisted on. He regularly emptied the chamber pots and kept the house as aired out as possible. He was a stickler for trying to make things as clean as possible, which pleased her. But the dust had always gotten away from him. Opening the windows invited in more dust from the air and their clothes and shoes did the rest.

  She didn’t mind the constant dusting. It became part of her routine when she wasn’t trying to keep the boys under control. The lemon in her coffee and frogs in her bed that Myrtle mentioned were pranks that the boys had apparently used before so she was expecting them. She scolded the boys but was never harsh, leaving them thinking of more things to do to her. She wasn’t sure how to put a stop to it.

  On her third Monday morning as their new mother, she woke to the usual morning scent of coffee. Andrew never woke her before he left and he was not talkative when he came home. He had not told her about any of his days or the creations he was working on in his business though it was something she would have been interested in hearing.

  Andrew never discouraged Ella from reading her books. In fact, Myrtle had even bought her a new one when she finished Sherlock Holmes A Study in Scarlet. It was a fantastic book and had become one of Ella’s all-time favorites. She was looking forward to reading more about the British detective at 221B Baker Street. So far, she had only had a chance to read to Carl. The other boys refused to sit long enough to listen.

  This morning, she heard a crash downstairs and immediately jumped up from her bed. She pulled on her robe and slid her small feet into a pair of slippers Myrtle had also purchased for her. She hurried down the hallways to the den and pushed the door open.

  “Raymie? Peter? Fred? Carl?” She said each of their names, even though there was no one in the room. She glanced around for hiding places and scanned the curtains and furniture for little feet or tufts of hair so she could see where they were. In the corner of the room, a large vase had fallen to the floor, shattering it into a million pieces. She was instantly afraid, thinking of what her father would have done if something like that had happened in his house.

  But she wasn’t caring for her father’s house anymore. She was caring for her husband’s, a man she barely knew, even two and a half weeks in.

  “Oh dear,” she said loudly so that small listening ears would hear. “Oh, my! Andrew will be so unhappy about this. I can’t imagine who could have done it!” She silently picked up a small hard ball that was still rocking in place under a table near the smashed vase. She slipped the ball into her pocket. “Oh dear.” She shook her head. “Could this have been a ghost? Oh, how will I tell Andrew there is a ghost in this house!”

  She heard the sound of a small gasp from the other side of the open door into the foyer. It was followed by several muffled sounds of “shhh”.

  “What will I do? A ghost!” She said again, directing her words toward the doorway.

  “Oh! Oh, oh, is there really a ghost? Is there, Miss Ella?” Carl came running into the room and threw himself into Ella’s skirt, balling it up and pressing his face into it. She put one hand on his back and patted him.

  “Shut your bazoo, Carl!” Raymie said in an irritating voice, also coming into the room. “You know it wasn’t a ghost! She’s just trying to scare you.”

  Ella shook her head. “I wasn’t trying to scare him, Raymie. I was just trying to draw you, four boys, out. You did this, didn’t you? With this?” She pulled the ball out of her pocket and held it out for them to see. The other two boys were poking their heads around to see what she was doing. They came in the room, looking distraught and threw themselves on the couch. Peter hung his head, his small cheeks red. Freddie pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. Raymie was the one who appeared most upset, crossing his arms over his chest and plopping down on a big high-backed chair sitting next to the couch.

  “I get bored around here!” He said angrily.

  “I’m sure you do. You should be in school.”

  “We don’t need to go to school!” He said abruptly. “We won’t need that when we’re working here on this farm.”

  “Surely your papa will let you go to the schoolhouse if you want to.”

  “I don’t want to!” Raymie exclaimed, giving her a furious look.

  “You don’t?”

  “He does, too!” Peter said, quietly. Raymie glared at him. “Well, you do, Raymie. I heard you telling Freddie even just a couple of days ago. You said you wanted to learn to read, and you were mad because you don’t know how.”

  “I do know how to read!”

  “No, you don’t.” Peter shook his head.

  “You don’t know how to read, Raymie?” Ella was surprised and disappointed. She would have thought that at least the oldest one would have learned that by now. “It’s very important that you know how to read. Especially since you want to work on the farm.”

  “I don’t want to work on the farm!” Suddenly Raymie stood up; his small fists clenched and his eyes filled with tears. Ella’s heart broke looking up at him. She took a step closer and reached out to him, but he pulled away. “I want to work in a bank! It’s not fair!” He bolted out of the room and up the stairs. A few moments later, the door to his room was slammed shut.

  Ella was left in shock. He was so embarrassed. She hadn’t meant to embarrass him. Freddie gave her a smile and walked out without a word. Shortly afterward, Peter followed, never taking his eyes off the floor. Both boys went up the steps.

  Ella looked down at Carl, who was staring up at her. “He’s mad,” Carl said.

  Ella nodded and looked at the stairs. “Yes, I think he is mad.”

  She leaned down and picked the little boy up, resting him on her hip. He was too big to carry like a baby, but he held on to her as if he was one. She carried him up the stairs and opened Raymie’s door without knocking. She set Carl down and surveyed the scene. Peter and Freddie were simply sitting on Raymie’s bed while the young boy pressed his face into his pillow. Carl immediately went to the bed, climbed up on it and covered his oldest brother with a hug, resting his cheek on Raymie’s back and wrapping his small arms around his brother as muc
h as he could.

  Raymie didn’t move, accepting his little brother’s love without a word. Again, Ella felt her heart melt for the boys and their obvious love for each other. She went to the bed and sat in an open area, placing one hand on Raymie’s shoulder.

  “I am so sorry I embarrassed you, Raymie. Please don’t be upset anymore. I tell you, you can be happy about one thing.”

  “What’s that?” Raymie’s voice was muffled but sounded hopeful.

  “You can learn to read any time in your life. I have three younger brothers at home, and I taught them all to read. My papa thought that reading and having an education was very important, even for a girl! So he taught me and I taught them. I can teach you, too, if you want.”

  Raymie sat up but didn’t look at her. Carl transferred himself to Ella, draping himself over her back and wrapping his arms around her neck. She lifted one hand and patted his arms instinctively, feeling a great deal of affection for the little tyke.

  “I can learn to read?”

  “Of course, you have just as much…” Something behind Raymie on the wall caught her attention, and she focused on it. All four boys looked up at her face when she suddenly stopped talking. “What is this?” She mumbled to herself. She stood up, taking Carl with her as he wrapped his legs around her waist so she could piggy-back him. She carried him to the wall and bent down. There was a bit of wallpaper torn away. She lifted her fingers, grabbed it and pulled it so that it ripped some more. She heard a gasp behind her and Freddie spoke up.

  “That’s wallpaper Papa put up just for Raymie. It’s his favorite color. He’s gonna be mad.”

  Ella continued to rip the wallpaper off, feeling a bit of nervous excitement flow through her. She lowered Carl to the floor and ripped even more down. Behind the green wallpaper, there were pages and pages of newspaper. The section that had caught her eye read in big bold letters Jim Smiley and his Jumping Frog. Someone had covered the wall with an old New York Saturday Press from 1865. She was shocked that it was still readable after all the years that had passed.