A Convenient Christmas Wedding. Regina Scott
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guilty for not having confided the truth to his family. Right now, only John and Levi knew he had married Nora. The weather had kept him from doing more than laying out permanent stakes on the new claim, so the rest of his family was also unaware of the land. He’d been trying to find the right moment to tell them.
He knew he was not the most eloquent of men. Their father had left them a small library of adventure novels and epic poems, including Robinson Crusoe, The Last of the Mohicans and The Courtship of Miles Standish. Though he’d enjoyed reading them over the years, he couldn’t convince himself the flowery language was necessary. If a man had an opinion on a matter, why not just say so?
Yet when he stated his opinion, he as like as not started an argument. Apparently his words were too brash, his opinions too strong. And he had never figured out a way to soften them. So, if he couldn’t bring his family around to his way of thinking on something as mundane as which field to clear next, how did he expect to explain something as unorthodox as his and Nora’s bargain?
At least with her he could speak his piece. Nora didn’t seem to mind when he argued his point, and she was willing to listen and offer a counterpoint without claiming he was bullying her. Of course, now that he’d met her brother, he had to own that she was used to far worse than him.
“Let’s start with the sleeping arrangements,” he told her, drawing on the reins to guide the horses around a curve in the road.
“Sleeping arrangements,” she repeated in a strained voice.
He refused to let her worry. “My cabin is small—main room on the ground floor, loft half the depth across overhead. And there’s only one bed.”
“Oh,” she said, and he thought she hunched tighter with concern, but it might have been a reaction to the chill breeze that blew in from the water.
“You will take the bed, which is upstairs,” he said. “I have a spare pallet my brothers use when they stay. I’ll use it to bunk by the fire downstairs.”
“I couldn’t put you out that way,” she protested.
Simon shook his head. “It’s only logical. I rise early to work. If I’m already downstairs, it will be easier for me to slip out without disturbing you.”
“Thank you.” She beamed at him, and all at once the day seemed brighter, warmer.
“Then there’s the eating arrangements,” he said, determined to press forward. “I keep dried venison and fruit in the cabin, but everyone generally eats at the main house.”
She turned to him, her face puckered. “I can’t take your food without paying for it. That wouldn’t be right.”
Having another mouth to feed would put a strain on their supplies. But he could not accept Nora’s money. They had made a bargain. It wasn’t her fault her brother’s behavior had forced her to change it.
“You are welcome to anything you need, Nora,” he told her.
“So long as I contribute in some way,” she agreed.
He smiled. There. That hadn’t been so hard. Maybe he was getting better at discussing things civilly. Or maybe Nora was just easier to talk to than the rest of his family. Either way, he thought she was right—they just might make this bargain work, after all.
He reckoned without his family.
They reached Wallin Landing as the day was darkening. James was leaning against one of the supports on the back porch as if waiting for them. He strode out to meet the wagon as Simon pulled up in front of the main cabin.
“If you were going to go to the trouble of picking up my new waistcoat, Simon, you didn’t have to bring the seamstress with you,” he teased with a grin to Nora.
That was James. He was only two years younger than Simon, but decades apart when it came to outlook. James didn’t speak—he teased, he joked. No deed was so dire, no day so dark he could not make light of it.
“How nice to see you again,” Nora said as James came around to take charge of the horses, who nickered a greeting. “I haven’t quite finished your commission, but I’ll get to it as soon as possible.”
It shouldn’t surprise Simon that James knew Nora. James was the brother most likely to care about his wardrobe. Even now, his wool coat gaped to reveal a patterned waistcoat over his flannel shirt and a red silk scarf at his neck. He cut a dapper look, his short hair a shade darker than Simon’s, his blue eyes deeper.
The back door opened, and Levi stepped out onto the porch as Simon climbed down from the bench.
“Hello, Nora,” he said before reaching for the rifle that hung beside the door. In the act of removing it from its cradle, he froze, then turned to stare at the wagon. “Nora?”
“Good evening to you, Brother Levi,” Nora said.
James chuckled. “Brother Levi? Have you joined a monastery without telling us, my lad?”
Levi colored, then turned to pull down the gun. “Maybe I should have. Things are going to get terribly interesting around here, I’m thinking.”
Simon reached up to lift Nora down, feeling the warmth of her as she settled beside him. “Brace yourself,” he warned her.
“Why?” she asked.
Levi fired the gun.
Nora flung herself against Simon. His arms came around her, holding her close, knowing how people generally reacted to the noise the first time. But what surprised him was that she wasn’t trying to escape the danger.
She was trying to put herself between it and him.
Levi fired again, and Simon bent his head to speak in Nora’s ear. “It’s all right. That’s just how we call everyone to dinner.”
“Oh.” She glanced up at him, the red rising in her cheeks. Those gray eyes held his, wise, warm, gentle. It was like looking into the early-morning mist, knowing the sun would not be far behind.
Maybe he’d learned something from the poets, after all.
“Dinner!” Levi shouted as if anyone could have missed his signal. As Simon glanced his way, the youth shrugged.
“You can’t bring her out here and keep it a secret,” he said, reaching for the door latch. “You’ll have to tell them now.”
As Nora looked up at him quizzically, Simon couldn’t help his sigh. “And you sound completely delighted by that,” he told his youngest brother.
“I’m truly sorry you’ll get a scolding, Simon,” Levi assured him. “But I’m going to enjoy eating dinner when my misdeeds aren’t the main topic of conversation for once.”
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