Forgotten Honeymoon. Marie Ferrarella
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thank her for her caregiving and find another way to convince her to take the money she should have accepted long ago.
But first he needed to find out what had happened to his clothes. “May I ask who put these bloomers on me and why?”
She hesitated and looked uncomfortable for a moment. “We left your belongings at Doc’s office and my supplies at the mercantile to be quicker. I had to pick up Ollie and we thought it best to get you here as soon as possible and settled in, then go back and load everything else. Teague will help me fetch them in a—”
“Stop spit and sputtering about those bloomers, Parker.” Myrtle’s fists rounded on her hips now that her hands were free of the tray. “That handsome drink of water out there and me managed to put those on ya. Bloomers was all we had handy. You best be glad Daisy had an old pair and she’s so tall. Otherwise, you’d be wearing mine.”
Ollie giggled.
The widow shooed Ollie out of the chair and took her place. “Why don’t you and Myrtle go see about those poor chickens or they’re going to lay sour eggs. You can ask him more questions tomorrow after he’s good and rested.”
“Ahh, Mama,” Ollie grumbled. “He was tellin’ me all about Daddy. He said he met him.”
The widow’s body stiffened and long golden lashes closed over her eyes. It took her a second, but she finally spoke quietly. “After you get your chores done, Ollie, I want you to take a bath and scrub yourself good. Don’t worry about the bathwater. I’ll pour it out later.”
“But I took one last night, Mama. Can’t I skip one?” Ollie complained.
“I won’t have you running around at the race tomorrow looking like a dust storm. You know what your uncles will say.”
“Uncle Maddox will dunk me in the horse trough and pin me to a clothesline, but that’s kinda fun sometimes.”
“They’ll be out here afterward trying to tell me how to raise you, that’s what.” The widow exhaled a breath, obviously attempting to keep calm. “I’d like to skip at least one gathering without them knocking on my door afterward to tell me what I’m doing wrong with you, please.”
“Best come on now, before you get yourself in a heap of trouble,” Myrtle warned, taking Ollie in tow and heading out the door, deliberately raising her voice but looking over her shoulder at Bass. “Ain’t you learned when your mama’s about to blow her top at somebody and doesn’t want you to see it? Let’s go ruffle some chicken feathers.”
Bass waited for the yelling to begin, but instead Widow Trumbo stared quietly at his cup.
“Are you finished with your tea? Would you like some more?”
He handed it back to her, aware something had changed in her but he couldn’t define what. “No, thank you. It tasted as good as it smelled, though.”
She stood and took a cover off a bowl on the other tray, grabbed it and a spoon then sat back down. “This is stew. Are you ready to eat now?”
Her words were neither friendly nor stiff, just precise and efficient to the task. Bass wondered if this was the quiet that came before her storm.
He blinked at her unwavering gaze. A yawn filled him, though he tried to squelch it. “I’m suddenly feeling a little sleepy again, although I am hungry. I’m not sure I won’t spill it.”
“I intend to feed you.” She leaned over to offer him a spoonful of stew. “Doc gave us something to put in the tea to make you rest. Take a bite. You need to eat as much as you can.”
Bass accepted the spoonful and enjoyed the beef, particularly the broth. He appreciated her treating him with such kindness, though he suspected she was doing her best to hold her temper in check.
She lifted another scoop after he finished the first. “I make one demand of you while you’re in my home, Mr. Parker.” The authority in her voice brooked no argument. “You and your sister are not to talk to my child about Knox without my permission. I, alone, will tell her what she needs to know about him.”
Petula knew so little of Knox, she would be no threat in the matter. Bass sipped the second spoonful as he mulled over why Widow Trumbo might want him to keep such information secret from her daughter. Did it have anything to do with the other woman he’d thought was Knox’s wife? Did Daisy know about her?
“Mama,” Ollie hollered from downstairs. “All the uncles just rode up. Uncle Maddox looks madder than a rooster run out of the chicken coop.”
“Tell him I’ll be right down.” Daisy stood and offered Bass the bowl. “You’ll have to finish this without my help.”
Bass shook his head. “I don’t want any more. Please put it on the tray before you go.”
Her cheeks paled, though her back stiffened once again as she braced herself to face this new turn of events.
The widow had quite a day so far. A daughter who’d held hostages, surviving a shoot-out, saving his life and now nursing someone she clearly didn’t want in her home. Rarely had he seen such grace under pressure.
Bass thought he should ease her mind before she went downstairs to face the new trouble that had come calling. “Mrs. Trumbo...Daisy...I give you my word. I won’t talk with Ollie anymore about Knox unless you say it’s all right.”
“I’ll hold you to it, then, Mr. Parker.” Her hand trembled as she set down the bowl, rattling the porcelain against the tray. “But you may not have to concern yourself with it after today. Her uncles may take her away from me if they found out you’re here.”
Daisy stepped aside as her brothers-in-law carried the Parkers’ baggage inside the house without bothering to knock or offer a greeting.
All three claimed the broad shoulders and considerable height of the Trumbo clan, but the doors of this house had been built to accommodate the comings and goings of Viking-sized kin. The only real differences in the three sandy-bearded men’s appearance were the angle of their broken noses and the length of their tied-back hair. From the looks of things, one of them had enjoyed a recent fight. She supposed she’d hear about it in church tomorrow.
Maddox, the oldest and tallest of the trio, shifted his gray eyes upstairs then glared at her looking like a wolf studying its next supper. “Doc says these belong to a couple’a boarders you took in. Figured we’d save you a trip and bring out these and the supplies you left. Where do you want ’em?”
“Just set the baggage by the coatrack, please. I’ll carry them up later. And thanks for being so thoughtful. I was just about to head into town and pick up everything.” Daisy’s pulse did double time as she maneuvered her body to block the Trumbos from heading upstairs. What else had they learned about today’s events?
“Myrtle will want the supplies in the root cellar and salt shed like usual.”
Maddox nodded at his brothers. “Y’all drop what you got and I’ll do the rest in here. See that you make Myrtle happy with the storing then find out where Ollie ran off to and fetch her inside. Meet me upstairs after you’re done.”
They dropped their load and the door shut abruptly behind them.
Daisy stepped backward and stood on the first stair, blocking the way, trying to appear calm and in control. It wouldn’t be fair to subject her patient to Maddox’s fury until he was stronger.
The fact that Maddox wanted Ollie present didn’t bode well, and Daisy wasn’t all that sure why she felt so compelled to protect Bass. She ought to just turn him over to her in-laws, but keeping her word had to be honored. “I’m sure Doc Thomas told you what happened. My guest is hurt and needs some rest. I can deliver their belongings to them later.”
“We heard one was a man.