The Unbraiding of Anna Brown (Lone Star Love Book 2)

by Amelia Smarts

  “See you then,” he said, rising and walking her to the door.

  “Bye-bye, Paddy.” Anna waved to the child and stepped out.

  Chapter 2 - Domestic Duties

  The next morning, Anna walked the mile down the path to Carter’s house. She planned to first open every window to air out the stuffiness. She would bake bread and play with Paddy. She was excited about her new job. She thought about Carter. She had always liked him and knew he was a kind man beneath his brusque exterior.

  She’d heard stories about how he ran his ranch. He paid his men fairly, but wouldn’t hesitate to fire someone who wasn’t up to snuff. Anna’s father told her that the worst thing someone could do under his employ was mistreat one of his animals. Paul had once witnessed Carter wrestle a horsewhip from a cowhand who was beating a horse and take it to him. Carter got in two lashes before the cowhand escaped to safety. Those kinds of incidences made Carter feared and respected by his employees, and Anna already felt the same. His hard jaw and stern eyes made him intimidating, but she knew he had a gentler, teasing side that had made her laugh as a child. She also understood his compassion for animals, since she possessed that as well. She couldn’t bear to see a living creature suffering.

  As she lifted her hand to knock, Carter opened the door. He was carrying Paddy, who looked grumpy. The child wore pants but no shirt. “I haven’t fed him yet,” Carter said. “Will you make us some breakfast?”

  “Of course,” Anna said, entering and getting to work in the kitchen while Carter sat on the sofa with the child. She found the bacon and butter, lit a fire adeptly, and retrieved the frying pan that hung by the stove. After frying the bacon, she scrambled eggs and sliced cheese. Carter had already made the coffee.

  Paddy fussed and Carter bounced him on his knee. That did nothing to quiet the child. His fussing turned into cries and then a tantrum. Carter set Paddy on the ground, where he arched his back and pounded his fist into the floor.

  Carter eyed him with resignation. “What’s wrong, little man?”

  Paddy answered his question with a long wail. Soothing the child was probably up to Nalin when she was alive, Anna thought. And now up to her, she realized suddenly. She piled food on a plate and set it on the table. She wrestled Paddy off the floor into her arms, sat on a stool in the kitchen, and set him on her lap. She planted him high on her legs against her stomach where she could firmly hug him to her and prevent him from arching out of her hold. She reached for a piece of bacon.

  “Are you hungry, sweetheart? Do you like bacon?”

  “Yes,” he cried but still squirmed, unconvinced that bacon warranted calming down.

  “You can have as much bacon as you want. Take it, baby.” She held the bacon in front of him. Paddy took it in his hand and squirmed a bit less.

  “What about eggs? Do you like eggs?’

  Paddy settled. His cries receded into hiccups. “Yes,” he said, his voice trembling. “I like eggs.” He bit into the bacon.

  “You can have as many eggs as you want too, all right?”

  “All right,” Paddy said, his voice still aggrieved.

  “What else do you like, sweetie?”

  Paddy tilted his face up and stared with curious, wet eyes at the kind female presence holding and feeding him. “I like candy.”

  “Me too,” Anna exclaimed. “I love candy, and I have some at home. I will bring it for you tomorrow.”

  Paddy looked pleased with that news. He took another piece of bacon from the plate in front of him. Anna could smell Paddy’s dirty hair because it was right below her nose. The odor was strong and sour, and she wondered how long it had been since his last bath. Carter didn’t look too clean either. He had a thick head of what was usually handsome dark hair, but it was oily and dented in the places where his cowboy hat had made impressions. His hands and shirt were tidy enough, but dust and crusted mud streaked his denim trousers all the way down the front and back.

  Carter ate slowly, occasionally looking up to glance at Paddy in Anna’s lap. Near the end of the meal, he asked Anna in a rough tone, “Why haven’t you eaten?”

  Anna hadn’t been sure whether she should eat his food while there, but his question made her realize she could. “I’ll eat when you both finish. Thank you, Mr. Barnes.”

  After his last bite, Carter stood and moved to the living area, where he picked up his boots by the door. Anna watched him discreetly. When she was a child, she thought he was a giant, and he still seemed like one to her, though now she was only a few inches shorter than he was. He was hard from his face to his feet. The belt around his trousers was linked by a metal buckle etched with a bucking stallion, but that was the only ornament. His shirt was plain white with sleeves to his wrists. It buttoned down the front. Carter pushed some clothes off the armchair so he could sit down and wrestled his boots onto his feet. The boots didn’t have spurs on them, she noticed.

  Leaning over, he rummaged through the clothes he’d pushed to the floor and found his riding gloves, which he tucked halfway in his back pocket upon standing. He walked to the bedroom, his steps thunderous now that he tread with boots on the hardwood floor. He came out a few moments later wearing his tan hat.

  “Pa pa pa pa. Where you going, Pa?” babbled Paddy, happy now that he was no longer hungry.

  Carter didn’t answer his question. “You be good, Patrick.”

  Anna thought Carter might instruct her on what to do while he was away, or at least let her know when he’d be back, but he said nothing to her and strode out the door.

  Nine hours passed before they saw Carter again. During that time, Anna worked nonstop. She opened the windows. She boiled water and soaked the dirty dishes before scouring them clean. She washed the clothes on the floor next to the armchair, which included two pairs of Carter’s trousers that were dirtier than those he wore. She baked bread, bathed Paddy, swept the hardwood floor, and roasted a chicken. Carter arrived home to a cleaner cabin and a hot meal. Anna felt weary after the long day attending to domestic duties, but she knew that not every day would be so hard. If she worked smart, she’d be able to bring the household up to acceptable living conditions within a few days. Then her work would just be maintenance.

  Carter picked up Paddy and threw him in the air. The child enjoyed the attention and laughed, but Anna could tell that Carter wasn’t feeling playful. His movements were stiff, and she reckoned he only played with his son to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

  Anna placed the food on the table, and the three of them sat down together for the second time that day. Polite conversation between Anna and Carter was not part of the meal since Carter didn’t speak and Anna was used to taking her speaking cues from her elders. When Carter and Nalin ate supper with her family when she was a child, she’d adhered to her parents’ admonishment that children should be seen and not heard, and that dynamic between Carter and Anna remained in place that evening.

  Paddy was under no such admonishment from his father to remain quiet. When he wasn’t eating, he was talking. Sometimes he was doing both at the same time. “Miss Anna made a fire, Pa. I took a bath and played with the blocks.”

  Carter nodded and said “Mmm hmm” for his side of the conversation.

  This continued until Paddy said, “Where’s my ma? I want Mama.” His bottom lip quivered.

  Anna’s fork stopped on the way to her mouth. Carter didn’t look up. He chewed and swallowed his bite of food and said quietly without showing emotion, “Mama’s not here anymore, Patrick.”

  The little boy’s eyes filled with tears, but Anna managed to divert his attention to a piece of bread with butter before he began crying in earnest. Anna felt profound sadness, suddenly, sitting in this cabin. She felt like the weight of the sadness would suffocate her, and she longed to be outside away from this motherless boy and wifeless man.

  Carter may have sensed her discomfort because he said, “It’s late. I’ll take you home in the buggy.”

  “Oh, don’t bother, Mr
. Barnes. I’ll walk.” She stood and set her plate on the counter. She would wash dishes tomorrow.

  “No. It’s almost dark.”

  Anna opened her mouth to protest again, but Carter held up a hand to stop her. “Look, I don’t have the patience to argue with you. You’re my responsibility. It’s dark. I’m taking you home in the buggy, and I won’t hear another word about it. Do I make myself clear?”

  Anna looked down quickly, hoping he wouldn’t catch the wounded expression on her face. She was only trying to make life easier for him, and he had gotten cross with her. “Yes, sir,” she said to the floor. She walked outside to wait for him, closing the door behind her a little harder than she would have if she hadn’t felt bruised.

  Carter hooked one of his horses to the buggy and within fifteen minutes the three of them were on their way to her family’s farm. Paddy sat between Carter and Anna. Shortly after they left, Paddy leaned over and fell asleep on Anna’s lap.

  “I’ll pay you once a week on Saturday,” Carter said. “Then you can take Sunday off.”

  “I can come Sunday too if you want. I don’t go to church.”

  “No need.”

  Anna felt like she should explain what she had just confessed. “I don’t like church. I don’t think God listens to people.”

  Carter didn’t say anything for what seemed like ages. Anna was afraid she’d revealed too much and Carter would fire her for being a heathen.

  Instead he said, “No, I don’t reckon he does either.”

  Anna felt sympathy for Carter then. She felt afraid and hesitated for a second, but her compassion overrode her fear and she reached over to touch his right hand, which was settled on his denim-clad thigh. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Barnes.”

  Carter didn’t move, and when he spoke, he wasn’t exactly cold, but he wasn’t warm either. “Thank you,” was his reply.

  Anna removed her hand and settled it on Paddy’s sleeping head, worried once again that she had said something wrong. When they pulled up to the cabin, they found Anna’s father Paul smoking a cigarette on the porch. He wore farmer’s overalls and a smile.

  Carter stepped out of the buggy and held out his hand in an obligatory way to Anna. She carefully moved Paddy’s head from her lap to the seat and clasped Carter’s strong hand to steady her descent.

  “Hello, cowboy,” Paul said to Carter. “I hear you’re giving my girl a taste of the rancher’s life.”

  Carter and Anna stepped up the porch stairs and Carter shook Paul’s outstretched hand. Anna’s mother, Margaret, joined them. “Carter,” she exclaimed. “You can’t imagine how pleased we are that you hired Anna. We know she’ll be in good hands with you. Care for some apple pie? I made it today.”

  “Thank you, Margie, but I’d best get my nipper to bed,” he said, making a gesture toward the buggy. Paddy was still asleep.

  Carter tipped his hat to Anna and then to her parents. “Paul, Margie, I’ll be seeing you.”

  They watched him climb back in the buggy and ride off down the path.

  Chapter 3 - Breaking Point

  The following days at the cabin continued much like the first. The sadness was prevalent but unspoken. Carter rarely spoke to Anna, not even to greet her when she arrived. She had to guess which domestic chores she should do since Carter never uttered a word of direction unless asked. He didn’t like being asked. She learned that the hard way one morning as he was getting ready to leave.

  Anna pointed to the holes in the shirt he was wearing. “Mr. Barnes, do you need me to mend your shirt? It’s ripping at the seams.”

  Carter looked up briefly from his belt, which he was buckling, and responded gruffly. “Mend it tomorrow. Not that I can see how it matters, even a little bit, that there are holes in my work shirt.”

  “The holes will get bigger if they’re not mended, that’s all,” she replied, her tone rueful.

  Carter glowered at her for a moment. Clearly irritated, he untucked and unbuttoned the shirt, removed it, and threw it in a wad on the armchair. Anna watched him anxiously. Without his shirt he looked even fiercer. She hadn’t thought that possible. His corded arms connected to broad, muscled shoulders. The skin on his chest was almost as dark as his tanned face, and an angry-looking scar slanted down the left side of his torso. Brown-black hair wisped around his chest, starting at his collarbone and trailing down his abs, disappearing into his denims. He strode to the bedroom, emerged buttoning a shirt without holes, and headed for the door. On his way, he slowed and his shoulders slouched. He put a palm on the doorframe and leaned his forehead into the crook of his elbow for a moment before he straightened and turned to Anna.

  Rubbing a hand across his face, which was thick with stubble from not having shaved for what must have been at least a few days, he said, “I’m sorry for my ill temper. You must understand it’s not to do with you.”

  Anna’s response was heartfelt. “I know, Mr. Barnes. I do understand.”

  After that morning, Anna felt equally afraid of asking him questions and of doing something wrong. When she found a crate of canned goods buried in the cellar, she wasn’t sure whether he was saving it. She considered it for a couple days, then decided to open a jar of peaches and make cobbler. Carter ate the pie that evening without a word, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  She felt greater anxiety when it came to Nalin’s belongings. For weeks, Anna stepped over a pile of Nalin’s clothes in the bedroom before finally washing and folding them away in the bottom drawer of the dresser. When Carter arrived home that day, she stood in the kitchen frozen with fear as he walked into his room. She didn’t know how these things worked. Perhaps he wanted Nalin’s clothes to be out on the floor. Anna recognized that they made the room look like Nalin still lived in it. When Carter emerged from the bedroom, she searched his face. He wore the same stern, detached expression, so she relaxed.

  Anna tried to guess Carter’s favorite foods by the way that he ate, but she wasn’t able to figure it out. Not a single look of pleasure crossed his face, regardless of what food she put in front of him. Anna was a good cook and tried without luck to tempt him to enjoy her pies, sweet bread, cakes, and various roast suppers. He ate whatever she put in front of him, but he never expressed enjoyment or appreciation. She didn’t care about being thanked. What bothered her was feeling like nothing she did mattered. He never complained about anything she did, nor did he praise her. She thought this was a good thing at first. At least he wasn’t criticizing her or demanding that she bend to his wishes. But then she started to wish he would demand something. She would have welcomed any reaction that showed he was the slightest bit affected by what happened around him.

  Their routine persisted for months. Anna showed up early. She spent the day at Carter’s house cleaning, cooking, and minding Paddy while Carter worked. Carter returned in the late afternoon or evening. The three of them ate supper before she left. If they finished supper while there was still daylight and the weather was fair, she walked home. If it was raining or dark, Carter would drive her home in his buggy. She tried protesting once more that she could walk when it was dusk and not yet dark, but he gave her a withering look that made her stomach tighten into knots. She didn’t suggest it again.

  Paddy was as drawn to Anna as Carter was detached from her. Within a week of her working there, Paddy made it a habit to find his way to her lap whenever she sat down. He latched onto her skirt and followed her around while she did her chores. He asked questions about everything she did.

  “Hush your yammering,” Anna would say to him when she would tire of answering his questions. But the truth was she welcomed his little voice because the house would have been quieter than a prayer service without it. Sometimes out of the blue, Paddy’s face would crumple and he would look at her, confused. Anna thought that had something to do with him realizing she wasn’t his ma. Whenever he looked at her like that, Anna would scoop him into her arms and give him a kiss before finding something sweet for him to eat
. She spent some of the money Carter paid her on candy from town. The candy was for her too, if she was honest with herself, but mostly it was for Paddy.

  Carter caught her giving Paddy candy for the second time in one day. He said, “You’ll spoil him, you know.”

  His words made Anna feel protective over the boy as well as defensive of her own actions. “He’s not spoiled,” she said with more force than she intended. “He’s a good child, and it makes him happy.”

  Carter looked at her for several beats and then grunted. “Nalin used to say that. In the same outraged tone of voice, too.” He shook the paper he was reading to straighten it. “Women,” he muttered, sounding mildly exasperated.

  Anna felt bad then and considered apologizing, but his nose was already back in the paper. Carter bought the Sunday paper in town weekly and spent a few minutes reading it every morning before he left for his work. He never read anything out loud, which bothered her. Her father and mother read articles aloud to get her and her sisters thinking about current events, and the whole family would discuss the happenings around town. Her pa sometimes asked Anna’s opinion about the news, which made her feel important. Carter never asked her about anything. He didn’t care about her opinion. He didn’t care whether she was in the room or not. He didn’t care what food she cooked or if she washed and mended his clothes. He didn’t care if the house was clean or dirty. He didn’t care about anything the earthly world had to offer. His depression was pervasive and affected her mightily.

  Anna felt bold one day and decided to address him while he was reading the paper. “What’s that article about, Mr. Barnes?”

  He ignored her. He didn’t look up or respond. It was as if she hadn’t said a thing, and Anna stood there staring at the top of his bent head, growing irate. It was one thing for him not to speak to her, but for him to actually ignore her question was a snub she couldn’t accept. She stormed to the kitchen and washed the dishes as loudly as she could, hoping it would ruin his concentration on whatever article he was reading that she was not to know about. Anna heard Carter sigh loudly after a minute of her banging silverware against the dishes.