Love Comes Home by Kit Morgan

Author:Kit Morgan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sweet western romance, clean historical western romance, Clean and wholesome historical romance, Sweet historical western romance
Publisher: Angel Creek Press
Published: 2019-03-13T16:00:00+00:00

Nine

Maisie did her best to get through the morning. Mama was as horrible and demanding as she could be. Once upstairs, she sat in her chair and berated Maisie for not coming when she first called, not bringing her shawl right away, and what had she been doing upstairs all that time anyway, woolgathering?

Maisie wasn’t about to tell her she’d been speaking with Jonathan – Mama would throw a fit. It was bad enough she’d begun to criticize poor Mrs. Whitehall’s oatmeal while Maisie was upstairs. She had a strong feeling Mama wouldn’t want to eat downstairs again anytime soon. So it would be back to the old routine of either reheating and dressing up something Mrs. Whitehall had already made, or making something for Mama from scratch.

“Where’s the mending?” her mother asked, somewhat calmer.

Maisie sighed in relief. “Downstairs. I’ll fetch it.”

“You’ll do no such thing!”

Oh good grief, now what? “How else am I to get it up here?”

“Call down the hall – tell Mrs. Whitehall to bring it up.”

“Mama,” she said in disbelief. “There’s nothing wrong with going downstairs and getting it. Surely you can handle being alone for a few moments?”

“I can be alone.”

Maisie’s hands went to her hips. “Then what is the problem?”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed on her. “You. You’re the problem.”

“What?”

“You’ll talk to that man if he’s down there. I don’t want you talking to him or any other man, you hear me?”

Maisie couldn’t believe she was hearing this. “Mama ...”

“Don’t you ‘Mama’ me! First comes the talking, then comes the sparking – that’s how it always starts!”

Maisie couldn’t believe her ears. What was her mother going to do, chain her to the wall of their room? She headed for the door. “I’m going to fetch the mending.”

“No!”

Maisie took a deep breath, held it a moment and let it out slowly as she turned to face her mother. “Mama, I am going downstairs to fetch the mending, then you and I will work on it until it’s done. There’s almost no laundry today to worry about.”

“I am your mother and you’ll do as I say!”

“Not if you’re being unreasonable.”

Her mother’s eyes bulged as she turned almost purple. “Maisie Anne Woodhouse, I am your mother!”

Maisie shook her head. “No, you’re not. And I’d very much like her back, if you don’t mind.” She went out the door, closed it behind her and stood in the hall a moment, her hands shaking. This sort of behavior was unsettling. And if Jonathan Bridger knew anything about it, she was more than willing to let him escort her to work that afternoon.

Downstairs she fetched the mending and headed back up before Mrs. Whitehall spotted her. She certainly hoped Mama didn’t give the woman any grief while she was at work. Thankfully, her mother usually napped in the afternoon, or sat in her chair by the window, or both. Mrs. Whitehall said she hardly heard a peep from her – it wasn’t until Maisie got home that Mama came back to life.

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