Pretending to Wed by Melissa Jagears

Author:Melissa Jagears [Jagears, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781948678063
Publisher: Utmost Publishing

Chapter Twenty-Five

Bang!

Nolan startled awake, his heart pounding. Was that a gunshot? Swinging his legs over the side of the mattress, he stumbled forward and hit the floor.

Growling, he picked himself up. How many years had to pass before he’d stop waking in the middle of the night and falling because his brain still thought he had two legs?

The hum of men’s voices called his attention to the open window. When they continued with no hint of panic or distress, his heart slowed. Why were his men up at this hour?

Mickey’s low growl rumbled somewhere outside.

His men were responsible enough he didn’t have to put himself together to go check, so Nolan hauled himself back into the bed.

Lying down, he tried to drift back to sleep, but the men kept talking—though not loud enough he could figure out what was going on. Hopefully Corinne hadn’t been awakened.

He refolded the pillow under his head and closed his eyes. He’d pray himself to sleep again if possible, and he needed to begin with his wife.

Last week, he’d thought encouraging Corinne to invent to her heart’s content would’ve made her happy, but she’d abandoned her projects instead.

Lord, give her peace. Cover her in a supernatural ability to sleep through—

His eyes flew open. A woman’s voice. Outside.

He swung his legs back around and reached for the shirt hanging on the footboard. She must’ve heard something was amiss to have gone out at this time of night. Had he been awakened by them pounding on the door?

The voices faded as he searched for his crutches. When everything went quiet outside, he stopped. By the time he could make it downstairs, they’d likely be back in bed.

He attuned his ears, waiting for the sound of the back door, but never heard it.

Was she being exceptionally quiet so as not to wake him? Or was she not going to inform him of what happened?

He shook his head and settled back into bed. She’d likely tell him over breakfast, and not having her in his room, in the dark, in her nightdress … a good thing.

He was getting worked up over nothing.

Just when his breath began to slow enough to return to sleep, his door creaked.

“Nolan?” Her whisper floated over.

“Hmmm?” He likely shouldn’t have muttered that as if he’d just awakened, but he didn’t want her to know he’d been fretting for fifteen minutes either.

A scratch, and then a flame filled the room with light.

He sat up and rubbed at his eyes. Why was she lighting the lamp? “What’s happened?”

“Something got the chickens.”

Why was she still whispering?

“Killed all of them.” Her face contorted as she turned the flame down. “Took the men too long to figure out what Mickey was whining about to save any. We gathered up the bodies before he was tempted to chew on one, but the eggs…”

She made some sort of frustrated whining noise. Why would losing eggs make her sadder than losing animals?

The lamp light flickered as she turned to walk toward him. She thrust both hands in her dressing gown pockets, and then pulled them out, eggs in both hands.

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