by Paty Jager
“So you aren’t doing all these favors for the Widow Miller because you’re getting attached?” Clay stared into the coffee cup he casually spun on the table in front of him.
“I’d be lying if I said all three of them haven’t affected me in some way. The boy because he needs guidance to become a good man and not a menace, the little girl because she is innocent and loving, and the mother—” He didn’t have words to describe the feelings Aileen had lit in him. “Because she’s had a rotten past and thinks poorly of all men.”
“Even you?” Hank’s intent gaze didn’t bother him.
“She’s slowly believing I don’t plan to harm her. Once she and the boy fully believe it, I won’t have to spend so much time with them.” Ethan glanced into the cup of bitter coffee. The thought of staying away from the family tweaked at his conscience. They needed him— more than his own family.
“Right,” Clay scoffed and headed back to his bed.
“What’s that mean?” Ethan spun on the chair to face his brother.
“That you’re smitten with that husband killer. Ethan, it isn’t good for you to be spending so much time with her and them kids.”
“She isn’t a husband killer, and I can spend my time wherever I want.” Ethan surged out of his chair and stepped in front of Clay. “You’d best get used to the idea of me taking care of that family. And to stop calling Aileen a husband killer.”
He turned to Hank. “Is there talk going on among the workers?”
“Only when that fool Miles shows up.” Hank shot a glance to Clay.
“And you’re egging him on aren’t you?” Ethan turned to Clay. “I don’t want gossip giving any of the workers cause to go visiting the Millers. If I find out you and Miles started anything, you’ll both answer to me.”
Clay flung his body onto his bed, Hank blew out the lamp, and Ethan stalked to his bed. How was he to help Aileen and the children when his own flesh and blood were so prejudiced against them? He knew one thing for certain. He needed a plan to get them into a new cabin. With her pride and that boy’s resentment, it was going to have to be a doozy of a plan.
****
Aileen patted her hair and glanced at Shayla before answering the door.
“How is she?” Ethan asked, holding his hat in his hand and scanning her face.
“Awake, but her words are slow.” When her darlin’ woke that morning, she asked for the happy man. But the way the words slurred out of her mouth made it hard for Aileen to smile and say she was sure he’d show up some time today. She now wondered if they should send for a doctor even though he wouldn’t get here till the wee hours of the night.
Ethan nodded his head. “That can happen sometimes when a person receives a hit to the head.” He smiled and entered the cabin, closing the door behind him. He glanced about the room, then reached out to her face. “You didn’t sleep well.” He gently traced the hollow under her eye with his thumb. The tenderness brought tears.
“Shhh… Don’t cry.” He stepped forward, drawing her into his strong arms.
How wonderful to be wrapped in his strength and warmth. His firm, broad chest was solid under her hands. She tried to stop the tears, but the ordeal of the day before and the long night watching her daughter toss and turn had taken a toll.
“She’ll be fine. She’s young. Her speech will come back, and she’ll be her old self.” His voice rumbled in the chest vibrating under her ear. The sound reminded her of listening to her father talk with his brothers when she was child tucked away warm in her bed in Scotland.
With her arms folded in between their bodies, she didn’t have to fear they would wind around his solid form and give him cause to think she wanted his advances.
The rattle of the door latch brought her to her senses, and she pushed away. Colin couldn’t find her in this man’s arms. No telling how the boy would react.
“Thank ye for yer concern.” She dried her face and turned to the table, straightening the bowl of porridge and spoon set out for Colin’s breakfast.
“Any time you need to talk. I’m here.” Ethan’s softly spoken offer made her insides flutter. He walked to the bed and sat in the chair she’d occupied all night.
“How’s my girl?” he asked, ruffling the hair above the white bandage wrapped around the child’s head.
Colin stood in the doorway, a bucket of dirt in each hand. “What are you doing here?” he accused, moving to the hole in the corner of the shack and dumping the buckets.
“I came to check on your sister and help fill in that hole. I can miss work, you can’t.” Ethan stood, took the buckets from the boy, and nodded to the table. “Eat your food so you can give me a decent day’s work.”
Aileen started to rebuke the man for his harsh words, but when Colin sat in the chair and started wolfing down the porridge, she held her tongue. As a man with four brothers, maybe he knew how to handle the boy.
Ethan winked at Aileen and headed out the door. She shook her head and smiled. She could get used to having him around. The thought stopped her cold. No man would come into this family. What made her emotions overrule her good sense? He was a man and sooner or later he would prove no different than Mr. Miller.
Sure he touched her with tenderness now, but that would soon end. Every man had a temper. Even her Patrick. He just took it out on his enemies. Never his wife and son. Where did Ethan Halsey take out his frustrations?
The man in her thoughts entered with two more buckets of dirt. He dumped the contents and tramped around in the hole, packing the dirt.
Colin pushed away from the table. “I’m headed to work, Ma.” He plucked his hat from the corner of the table and stood. “Are you coming?” he asked Ethan.
“I’ll be along as soon as I get this hole filled. Don’t want your ma accidentally stepping in here and hurting herself.”
Colin nodded and headed toward the door. He stopped and turned to Ethan. “‘Member what we talked about yesterday?” he asked, his brows pulled into a scowl.
Aileen fisted her hands on her hips. “What did ye talk about yesterday?” What had the two of them cooked up?
“He knows.” Colin didn’t take his gaze from the man standing by her stove, his arms crossed in front of him, staring back at her son.
“I remember. Do you remember my answer?”
“What are ye two talkin’ about?” Aileen stepped between the locked gazes. She stared at her stubborn laddie. His gaze dropped to the ground. She glanced over her shoulder at the man taking up the whole corner of her home. He shrugged.
“It’s up to the boy to tell you if he wants.” Ethan unfolded his arms and started toward her. She stepped to the side. His body grazed hers as he sidled around her and out the door.
She thought her body was beyond being awakened by a man. She was wrong. Her nipples tingled, and her heart thrummed against her ribs. She cleared her throat and glanced at her son.
“I’m going to work. Don’t let him get so close to you,” he admonished and darted out the door.
What had the boy and Ethan discussed about her yesterday? She picked up the cooled bowl of porridge for Shayla and sat on the chair next to her bed.
“M-m-momma. W-w-why ar-r-e y-you f-f-frowning?” Shayla asked as she held a spoon of food to her daughter’s lips.
“It seems yer brother and Mr. Halsey have been talkin’ about me.”
“Only good things.” Ethan’s voice made her nearly jam the spoon into Shayla’s nose.
“How dare ye sneak up on me?” She cleaned the porridge from her child’s face not daring to turn and see his expression.
“I wasn’t sneaking. You know I’m filling in this hole.” He crossed the room and dumped the buckets.
“What was me laddie referring to earlier?” Aileen watched him turn from his task. His dark eyes sought hers. The connection took her breath away.
“Do you really want to know?” His deep voice sent tremors through her body. What would she do if that same voice whispered sweetness
as they—She shook her head. Her thoughts wouldn’t go there. Not with this man or any man.
“Aye, ah would prefer ye and my laddie dinnae talk about me.”
“Your son told me to keep my hands off of you.” He strode over to stand beside the chair. She had to crane her neck to gaze up his long length and see the heat in his eyes. “Do you want me to keep my hands off?” The words floated from his lips like a caress. Her skin tingled.
“Aye,” she said even as her head shook the opposite. Buggar. Her traitorous body was going to get her in trouble.
The sly smile on his full lips sent tendrils of heat coursing through her at the same time it lit her temper.
“The laddie speaks true. Ye’ll be keepin’ yer hands to yerself.” She shot to her feet. The minute she stopped, she realized the disaster of the situation. His taunting lips and soul-seeking eyes were much closer.
She stepped to the side, knocking her leg into the bed and toppling toward Shayla. Strong hands grasped her waist, turned her, and pulled her away from the bed, settling her body firmly against his.
His leg nestled between hers. The pulsing at the juncture of her legs had her biting her lip. She was too old to feel—this.
She pushed against him. He let go and backed away, ducking his head, hiding his face. Before she could think straight, he grabbed the buckets and disappeared out the door.
“M-momma?” Shayla’s weak voice called from the bed.
“Ah’m here darlin’.” Aileen melted onto the chair and turned her attention to her daughter. She had to stop touching Ethan. Each time his fingers touched or his voice caressed, her commitment to keep her distance from men wavered.
****
Ethan dipped his hat in the creek and dumped the contents on his head. What was he thinking grabbing Aileen’s ripe body every time he had the chance? Not only did it make her uncomfortable, it made him randy as a jackrabbit.
He’d best get that hole filled and get back to the mill. The longer he hung out here the more chance there was he’d end up touching her again. Not that he didn’t want to. Her lush body and rounded curves welcomed a man. Not to mention her seductive voice.
Damn! He jammed the shovel into the dirt and filled the buckets. Bent over to pick up the full pails, he caught sight of someone rounding the bend from the mill. He stopped, set the buckets down, and waited for Hank to come to him.
“When are you going to come to the mill?” His gaze wandered to the shack behind Ethan.
“As soon as I get a hole in there filled,” He nodded to the house.
“You should have let the boy stay home and do that. You’re needed at the site.”
“The boy needs to be around grown men who treat him decent.” He tipped his head and studied his brother. “You are treating him decent?”
“Hell, yes. You know I wouldn’t take nothin’ out on a kid!” Hank pointed a finger at Ethan’s chest. “Stop making Clay and I out to be the bad guys. We feel for this family, but that don’t mean we intend to see you forget your priorities.”
“I’m not forgetting my priorities. I’ve only missed being over there yesterday afternoon and this morning.” Ethan picked up the buckets. “I should only be a half hour more. Go back and make sure everyone is doing their job.” He headed to the shack.
When he reached the door, he looked back and found Hank in the same spot, watching him. He shook his head and bumped the flimsy wood with his bucket before pushing the door open and entering. This time he wouldn’t barge on through like earlier and startle Aileen. He’d witnessed what she did to poor Shayla’s face.
The child sat up in her bed. Her color looked better. “That’s the way I like to see you. Sitting up and smiling.” He sent the girl a warm smile and hurried to the corner to dump the dirt.
“Ah saw yer brother out there. If yer needed at the mill, go. Ah can finish.” Aileen didn’t look at him. She remained bent over the table cutting more bandages from the same pair of drawers she’d used the day before.
“I’m just about finished.” He wanted to go to her and tell her it was okay to let him touch her, but he also knew the more he touched the more he’d want. She’d made it clear, she wasn’t giving any man what he would eventually want from her, and he’d not take it unless she gave her consent.
Without another glance her way, he exited and filled the buckets. He worked steady, filling buckets, carrying them in and dumping them until he’d tamped the hole solid and level.
“I’m done,” he stated when she didn’t look up after his last trip into the shack.
She nodded her head. “Let the boy come home for his noon meal.”
“I will.” He stood in the middle of the room, unsure how to proceed. He wanted to tell her he’d be by that evening, but wondered if just stopping by might be the better action to take.
“Bye, Shayla.” Ethan crossed the room, avoiding any contact with the woman and squeezed the child’s hand. “I’ll come by and check on you this evening.”
Her eyes lit up and she smiled. “T-t-thank you.”
The fragile child pulled at his heart. He sank down on his knees beside the bed and hugged her small body. “I’ve done nothing. Get well, I have a book I want to read to you.” Her young eyes sparkled with interest.
“W-w-what is it?”
“It’s a surprise. Now rest so you get well.” He kissed the top of her head and stood. Turning from the bed, he caught a glimpse of the tears trickling down Aileen’s face before she swung away from him.
Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms. “What’s wrong?” he crooned, rubbing a hand up and down her back as he held her head against his shoulder. Consoling his brothers over the years had been automatic. Holding and consoling this woman brought his body to life and made his existence more valid.
“Ye dinnae have to promise the lassie anything.” She raised her head and looked him in the eyes.
“No, I didn’t. But I wanted to. I have a book I enjoyed as a child. I thought I’d bring it over on Sunday and read it to Shayla.”
Her body stiffened, and her eyes became wary as she pushed to escape his embrace.
He let her go. She wouldn’t come to his arms willingly if he didn’t let her escape on her terms. And he wanted her in his arms. He was determined to prove to her not all men beat on women like her late husband.
“How would that look, yer comin’ to our house on a Sunday and spending time?” She backed away, her posture lengthening, her jaw set in a hard line.
A smiled tugged at his lips. Her indignation at the prospect of gossip about them tickled. “What do you think they’re saying at the site, knowing I was here yesterday and now this morning?”
The horror on her face was more than he could stand. He crossed the dirt floor to capture her hands. “This is actually to your benefit. If they think we’re—no one will want to anger the boss by stepping on my territory.”
She yanked her hands from his. “Ah’m no’ territory or property. We are no’ married and ye do no’ own me! Nae one will ever own me again!” Her voice shook with anger. Did he hear a hint of disappointment too?
“What are you disappointed about? Me, or the fact you won’t let someone into your life?”
She glared at him and took a deep breath. “Ah’m disappointed in ye thinkin’ ah would go along with this tale. Or anyone else. Take a look around. At me. Everyone would be laughin’ thinkin’ ye would want to be bundled with the likes o’ us. Tis ye who are foolin’ yerself.”
He brushed a knuckle down her angel-kissed cheek. “Aileen, you are still a beautiful woman. Don’t think so lightly of yourself.” The surprise and desire that flashed briefly in her eyes told him more than her words.
Ethan stepped away before he did something they would both regret.
Chapter 12
Hunched over plans on the table, Ethan thought of the Millers. He’d stayed away from their shack the last few days. He still hadn’t found out why Shayla had been at the site. On Sunday when
he went over to read to her, he’d get the answer.
His plan was to get not only the girl hooked on reading, but also teach the boy. Colin would need more schooling if he were to become more than a laborer. With the intelligence Ethan had witnessed in the mother, the boy had to have a good head on his shoulders. He’d need to learn how to use it to make a living for his mother and sister.
Hank and Clay had gone to bed an hour earlier. He scanned the plan in front of him and penciled in a lean-to on the back. With the mill running it would be next to impossible to talk business. Another building to make the business transactions was necessary. The office would have living quarters. If he couldn’t get Aileen to move in, Clay or Hank could use the house when they married.
He smiled.
The hard part would be convincing Aileen to move. She’d shown she had a head for business. He planned to make her in charge of the office. At first there would be little to do, and he could slowly train her.
Her stubborn pride would keep her in that filthy, falling down shack through the winter if he didn’t hurry and get this built. He’d go to town tomorrow and talk with Fellowes about starting on the project.
Ethan ran a hand over the copy of Moby Dick sitting on the table. Memories of his mother reading to him plunged him into fond recollections. This story had sparked his interest in the power of words. He’d read every one of his mother’s beloved books in the chest by his bed. He hoped to inspire Shayla and Colin with this story on Sunday and every Sunday after until he finished.
Once they became interested in the story, he’d teach the family to read. His chest warmed at the thought of bringing them the gift of letters and numbers.
“You still up?” Clay stood beside him. “What’s that?” He grabbed the drawing before Ethan had a chance to stop him.
“Why are you drawing a house with one, two, three bedrooms?” Clay peered at him through narrowed eyes.
“We need an office for the mill. This will be the office.” He pulled the paper from his nosey brother’s grasp.