“I’m Genieva Bankmans,” Genieva replied.
“Genieva McLean, it be…if brother Brevan has kept to his plannin’,” Brenna said, winking at Genieva.
“He kept his word, yes,” Genieva confirmed. “But he wanted to send me back when he first realized who I was.”
Brenna laughed, then lowered her voice and divulged, “I don’t doubt it one bit, I don’t. He was hopin’ for an aged, very plump, and very large woman that wouldn’t distract him in any way, ya know.”
“You’ll be takin’ Genieva into the house now while I unhitch the team, Brenna. And you, Genieva McLean,” Brevan grumbled, glaring at his wife. “Ya don’t be takin’ to anythin’ me brazen brat of a sister says.”
“I’ll make up my own mind about people and what they say, Mr. McLean,” Genieva retorted.
“Listen here, lass…” he began with a growl.
“Strong things often come in smaller sizes, Mr. McLean. The same is true with people. So it may be in your best interest to cease in addressing me in such a condescending manner,” Genieva interrupted.
“She’s a wicked fairy, she is, Brenna,” Brevan mumbled to his sister as he urged the team forward.
“Then ya got just what ya were deservin’, brother Brevan,” Brenna called after him. Turning to Genieva, she put a comforting arm about her shoulders and said, “I’m taken with ya already, Genieva McLean. The angels sent ya to care for me brother, they did.”
“Don’t expect too much from me, Brenna. I’ll disappoint you. I’ve a way of doing that to people,” Genieva warned as she entered the house that would now be her home.
“That’s blarney if I ever heard it, it is,” Brenna argued as the screen door closed behind them. “This is yar home now, Genieva. It’s not a fancy place, for sure and for certain…but it’s strong, clean, and cozy.”
As Genieva looked around the room she had entered, pure delight began to sift through her being. It was a lovely home! This first room was large and open and obviously served as both kitchen and parlor. There was a large iron cookstove on one wall—a sink with a pump near to it wisely placed before a large window that looked out onto the orchards. A sturdy-looking table with four chairs sat in the middle of the room. All this was to Genieva’s left. To her right was a smaller section of the room, complete with fireplace and large hearth, rocking chair, small table and lamp, and a short-length, worn-looking sofa.
“The bedrooms be at the back of the house this way.” Brenna walked forward, passing through a door at the back of the front room. Genieva followed and was pleased to realize the heavenly scent of the orchards permeated the inside of the house as well as the air without. “There be three rooms at the back here. Mother and Father shared one before they passed on…that be Brevan’s now. Brevan had me prepare this one for you,” she said, entering the bright, welcoming room that was nearest the front rooms of the house. “It was mine before I married Travis. That’s Irish lace at the windows, it is. Do ya like it?” Brenna asked.
Genieva bit her smiling lower lip as she looked around the comforting room. The brass head- and footboards were brightly polished, and the washbasin and pitcher sitting on a stand next to the bed were ivory, adorned with tiny pink flowers. There was a chest of drawers with an oval mirror above, and the walls looked freshly whitewashed.
“It’s wonderful!” Genieva exclaimed.
Brenna giggled. “The window looks over the three sweet cherry trees at the side of the house. That’s where the creek runs by,” she explained. “Let me show ya the other rooms…though I’m certain Brevan’s room is in its usual untidy condition.”
Brenna explained the room next to Genieva’s had been Brevan and Brian’s when the family first moved to the West. It was unoccupied now—though clean and ready for use. The furthermost room was Brevan’s, and Genieva’s eyebrows arched in surprise as she entered it. The bed was unmade—the sheets and blankets lying in a twisted mass at the foot of it. The drawers to the bureau gaped open with the appearance of their contents having been rummaged through again and again. Miscellaneous pairs of trousers, soiled socks, and shirts lay draped over the bed, chest of drawers, and floor.
“Ya see, Genieva…he’s nothin’ more than a hog. It’s a pig, he is, and that’s the truth of it. Always worried about gettin’ up early and finishin’ chores. He falls into bed half-dead every night, tired and worn to the bone,” Brenna sighed.
“Well, this is completely unacceptable,” Genieva stated, gesturing to the cluttered room.
Brenna giggled—spontaneously hugged Genieva. “I knew ya’d be good for Brevan. The minute I set me eyes on ya.”
“She’s the livin’ banshee, she is,” Brevan McLean muttered to himself as he unhitched his team. “But if her work be as smart as her mouth…she might do in the end.” He thought again of the expression that had crossed Genieva’s face when she’d entered the station and seen him—he knew she had been unsettled by his appearance, and he smiled to himself—amused. No doubt he had the look of a great unkempt heathen from the Wild West to one such as her. He scolded himself inwardly for thinking she was attractive in those first moments before he knew her identity.
“And a good mornin’ to ya, big brother Brevan,” Brian greeted. Brevan looked up to see his brother approaching—sighed knowing he’d come to survey Brevan’s would-be bride. “Would ya be a married man now then?” Brian asked.
“I would,” Brevan answered plainly.
“And would the new Mrs. McLean be a tubby old wrinkled one? Or have the heavens been watchin’ out for Brevan McLean again?” Brian’s blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he winked at his elder brother.
“She’s a scrawny brat of girl, with a tongue as sharp as a sickle and a nose as high in the air as the clouds above,” Brevan grumbled.
“Ah. Then ya’d be tellin’ me that she’s the perfect lass for an old goat like you,” Brian chuckled.
“As long as she’s got the work of a horse in her…I do not care from whence she came or what she looks like.”
Brian shook his head, smiling as he concluded, “That’s a lie, it is. Ya’re as much a man as me, brother Brevan. Dad didn’t intend for ya to pass yar own life by to keep this land, he didn’t. And well ya know it.”
Brevan hung a harness on the barn wall. “It’s me he left the land to, Brian. Dad worked himself into the grave to earn it, he did…and I’ll not let it go because of me own weaknesses. I’m happy for you and Lita…and for Brenna and Travis, I am. But I’ve got me own duty…to our Dad.” He paused for a moment, sighed, and chuckled as he looked at his brother—the near image of himself. “She’s not gonna take much guff from the likes of me…I will tell ya that, Brian.”
Brian smiled, “Then she’ll be fittin’ right into the family, won’t she now?”
“I’ll testify to that!” Travis Sinclair bellowed as he entered the barn. “Everyone knows what a feisty bunch the McLeans are. Good day to you, Brevan…and how would my new sister-in-law be faring?”
“She’s merely me wife, Travis…no need to get soft on her,” Brevan responded with indifference.
“I got me a look at her from the barn door just now, Travis,” Brian explained. “She’s a wee little bit of a thing…but bonny as they come. And I think she’ll be keepin’ brother Brevan in line, she will.”
Travis Sinclair looked as nearly opposite of the two McLean brothers as was possible. He was short, tow-headed blond, and green eyed—yet handsome in a rather average way all the same.
“It will be good for Brenna. She worries about you so much, Brevan, that it’s near to driving me insane,” Travis said.
“Aye, don’t I know it. Still, she means well…I know that,” Brevan agreed, folding his strong arms across his chest. “Where’s Lita, Brian? I’ve no doubt she’ll be wantin’ to come and gawk at Genieva as well.”
“She’ll be by any moment, she will. She’s not been feelin’ herself lately. I hope she’s not comin’ down with the chills or somethin’ the like o
f it,” Brian answered.
“So,” Travis began, winking conspiratorially at Brian. “This…this Genieva you’ve gone and married so blindly…do you think she’ll be capable of working like you expect her to?”
“She’s small, ’tis true enough…but determined lookin’ and sturdy,” Brevan answered.
“And pretty?” Travis prodded.
“I’d say she’s the very definition of cute and adorable,” Brevan answered. “Like a school girl the likes ya see in town.”
“And…” Travis continued as Brian snickered, and a barely withheld chuckle began to manifest itself in his voice, “and…is she soft as velvet with a mouth that tastes of spring ripe berries?”
Brevan frowned as Brian and Travis both chuckled, knowing they had succeeded in irritating him. “I’ve no notion of how she feels or tastes, lads. I’ve not the time to waste that the two of you do on courtin’ and flirtin’ with me wife. It’s hard work I’m lookin’ for.”
As Brenna and Genieva exited the house and walked toward the barn, all three men watched in momentary silence.
Travis patted Brevan’s shoulder as if consoling him and said, “If you can keep your hands off that little morsel for more than two weeks, I’ll give you that new heifer Brenna and I bought last month.”
“Bring her on over now, Travis. For the lass is no temptation to me,” Brevan grumbled.
Genieva’s stomach began to twist itself into knots as she looked at the three men staring at her from the barn.
“There’s me Travis!” Brenna whispered with excitement rising in her voice. She waved to her husband and pulled Genieva along with her. “Isn’t he just the picture of a handsome lad, Genieva?”
“Oh, yes. Indeed he is,” Genieva stammered. Her eyes locked with Brevan’s as he glared at her.
“And brother Brian has arrived too. Ya’ll meet the whole family this day…for Lita should be along soon. Come now, Genieva.”
“So,” Brian began, offering his hand to Genieva, “ya’re the lass who’s gonna to teach me big brother a thing or two, are ya?”
“I’m…I’m Genieva,” she answered, accepting his hand. Brian had a knowing, mirthful glint in his eyes, and it unnerved her terribly.
“And I’m Brian. This is Travis, Brenna’s…what is that me dear sister calls ya now, Travis? Ah, yes. This is Travis…Brenna’s love muffin,” Brian informed her, pointing to Travis.
“That’s me, Genieva,” Travis agreed, shaking her hand as well. “Love muffin.”
Brevan sighed, obviously annoyed as Brenna giggled and linked her arm with her husband’s.
Genieva smiled at their silly, flirtatious manner—yet bit her lip self-consciously as she looked again to Brevan standing so severe and frowning.
“Lita!” Brian suddenly exclaimed. Genieva was only somewhat aware of her mouth hanging open in astounded awe as she stared almost rudely at Brian’s wife. There before her stood the most beautiful woman Genieva had ever seen—in her entire life she’d never seen such a beautiful woman!
“Hola,” the dark beauty greeted in a melodious voice thick and rich with the sound of Mexico. She offered a soft and friendly hand to Genieva. Genieva could only nod in response, so the woman continued. “I’m Lita,” she explained, her beautiful smile sparkling. “I’m so glad that Brevan has finally taken vows,” Lita sighed. She placed one hand daintily over her heart and shook her head indicating concern. “We were all so afraid he would never settle down and start la familia.”
Lita McLean’s voice was as lovely as a songbird’s, and the richness of her accent spilled from her lips like a dark, liquid confection. Her hair was thick and bluish-black—pulled into a braid hanging nearly to her knees. Her eyes were the deepest of brown, her cheeks rosy, and her lips the color of wine. Genieva sighed as she thought of her own pitifully common features in comparison.
All the same, Genieva was finally drawn from her wonderment and able to take Lita’s extended hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Lita. I’m…I’m sorry to stare so, but you’re so beautiful!” she said.
Lita giggled and placed a graceful hand on Genieva’s shoulder. “Oh no, Genieva!” The scarlet of a lovely blush rose to her cheeks as she explained, “You flatter me, Genieva. I don’t deserve such a compliment. I see myself every day in the…how you say? Espejo?” she asked, looking to Brian.
“Mirror,” Brian answered.
“Yes, yes. The mirror. Every day I look into it and am sad to see myself looking back at me.”
Everyone shook their heads in disagreement, and Genieva could only stand silent, unable to comprehend the reason for such a remark.
“Lita is forever and always goin’ on and on about how ugly and fat she is,” Brenna explained to Genieva. “She only does it to be makin’ me feel a bit better, she does.”
Brevan looked at Lita and spoke plainly, “Ya’re lookin’ as lovely as the summer skies today, Lita.”
Lita’s deepening blush did not go unnoticed by Genieva. Neither did the shy manner in which the dark-haired beauty momentarily cast her gaze to the ground.
“Muchas gracias, Brevan.”
“So,” Brevan began, turning to Genieva, “ya’ve met me brother and his lovely wife…and me wee brat of a sister and her love muffin ya have. I’ll be takin’ charge of yar time now, and we’ll have a go ’round the place while I tell ya what needs to be done to keep things runnin’ smooth.” Hunkering down, he quite improperly took hold of Genieva’s ankle, studying her shoe for a moment. Genieva thumped him squarely on the head with one fist—an entirely natural reflex to being so brazenly accosted. Brevan dropped her foot—looked up at her with profound irritation.
“Hey now, lassie. What would ya be beatin’ me so for?” he asked.
Upon seeing the irate expression on his face, Genieva immediately began to wring her hands.
“Forgive me, Mr. McLean…but I am quite unaccustomed to being handled in a manner on which society frowns.”
He seemed to completely ignore her explanation and simply reached down to take hold of her ankle once more—resuming his study of her shoe. “Are these the only sort of shoes ya would be ownin’, lass?” he asked.
“Of course,” Genieva answered, wrenching her ankle from his grasp again. She stepped backward several steps to ensure her ankle remained hidden—to ensure her modesty.
“Well, then day after tomorrow we’ll be ridin’ back to town to purchase ya somethin’ more useful,” Brevan informed her. He rose to his full, intimidating height—glaring down at her.
“Brevan McLean!” Brenna scolded. “She be your wife! Not some new horse ya’ve acquired. Next thing ya know ya’ll be tryin’ to nail her boots onto her feet ya will.”
“Brevan wouldn’t know what to do with a woman if she walked up and pinched him in the bum, for sure and for certain,” Brian chuckled.
“Sí! Sí!” Lita added as she and Brenna broke into amused laughter.
Genieva looked up into Brevan’s stern, frowning face—bit her lip to stifle her own need to giggle. It was obvious he was completely agitated. Yet his expression was somehow quite unexpectedly attractive.
“There’s not a woman on this green earth ownin’ the courage it would be takin’ to pinch me square on the bum, Brian,” he muttered, still glaring at Genieva.
“Oh, settle yar temper down now, Brev,” Brian soothed, slapping his brother squarely on the back. “Genieva doesn’t appear to be the bum-pinchin’ type…now does she, Lita?”
Lita could only shake her head in agreement as she dabbed at the tears of laughter brimming in her eyes. Brenna began her giggles anew, and Brevan shook his head disgustedly.
“Ya be seein’ now why I had to do most of the work on this farm me ownself all the bloomin’ time, Genieva,” Brevan grumbled. Taking hold of her arm, he led her away from the amused group of relatives. “Not a one of them can go through a single hour in the day without gettin’ the sillies.”
“Laughter is good for the soul, Mr. McLean,” Geniev
a stated.
“There be a place and a time for everythin’,” he growled. “But Brenna and Brian take too much time for foolish things.” He looked ominously at Genieva and added, “If ya be the silly, lazy type, lass…let it be said now…and know that ya’ll have to change.”
Genieva clenched her teeth tightly—yanked her arm from his grasp. “I am not something you own, Mr. McLean. I am an individual, and I do enjoy laughter and fun. I also enjoy hard work and accomplishment. I consider myself to be well balanced, and you would do well to treat me as your equal rather than your slave.” Smoothing the folds of her skirt, she added, “Furthermore, I would appreciate your adherence to a higher degree of propriety. My foot is my own as is my arm and…”
She was interrupted, however, as he once again firmly took hold of her arm and began leading her toward the house.
“We’ll begin in the house, Genieva. It is to be yar main responsibility,” he said.
“Don’t let him bully ya around, Genieva,” Brian called out. Genieva turned to glance back at the four onlookers. “Spank him hard on the bum if he tries it. That’s what our mother used to do, she did,” he added as Lita and Brenna broke into giggles once more.
“A word of warnin’ to ya, Genieva,” Brevan growled. “Ya lay yar hand across me bum but once, and I’ll return the favor with spankin’ ya over me knee, I will.”
“I’m sure they’re only teasing, Mr. McLean,” Genieva assured him. “After all, this is such an unusual situation, and your family seems so…”
“When me mother died…and she slapped me on the seat of the pants when I did wrong ’til the day she did…Brenna took over spankin’ me when I got out of hand. Teasin’ it wasn’t,” he stated.
Spontaneously, Genieva’s eyes dropped to the seat of Brevan’s pants as he pulled her along. She bit her lip to suppress a giggle needing escape at the thought of a man this large being reprimanded with a good paddling.
The Heavenly Surrender Page 2