The Columbus Day Mail-Order Bride (Holiday Mail Order Brides Book 13) by Morgan Kit

Author:Morgan, Kit [Morgan, Kit]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Angel Creek Press
Published: 2015-10-10T04:00:00+00:00

Nine

When Benjamin finally entered the house, Charity was sitting at the kitchen table peeling potatoes. Whatever tears she’d shed were long gone; the color of her face was back to normal save for a hint of dark shadows beneath her eyes. He crossed the kitchen without saying a word. Neither did she, nor his mother for that matter.

He wondered if Charity had told Ma the same news she’d told him. After a moment he concluded she hadn’t – his mother seemed fine, just busy as usual. She put a pot on the stove, then turned and looked at him. “You’re done early.”

His eyes darted to Charity, who kept hers firmly fixed on her work. “I guess I am. But I, uh … I guess I’ll go see if there’s anything else that needs to be done.” Without taking his eyes off his wife, he marched to the back door and left.

What was he thinking going into the house anyway? What did he want, an apology? If what she’d said was true, she didn’t owe him one; if she’d been lying, no amount of apologizing would do any good. Her words were all mixed up in his head, and the ones he wished he hadn’t heard dominated: I was with another man … if I’m with child …

He went to the pump, washed his hands and face, washed them again. He couldn’t still the rapid beating of his heart, couldn’t get his anger to settle down. He stood and stared at the orchard across the barnyard. He’d had visions of a little family walking through it to his own house – three or four children, a good wife, a happy home. Well, he’d gotten the wife part, but now he felt like he’d gotten damaged goods. But what was he to do now?

Talk to her.

Benjamin froze at the still small voice that seemed to come out of nowhere. “I ain’t ready, Lord. I don’t care what Ya say. I just cain’t do it.” His jaw went tight and once again he liked nothing more than to hit something. The side of the barn, a bale of hay, Calvin, something. But what good would that do? Besides, Calvin would just hit him back.

Benjamin. Talk to her.

Benjamin closed his eyes against the sudden tears and shook his head. “The one time I need Ya most, Lord, and Ya tell me the last thing I wanna hear.” He looked at the sky. “Ya know best, I suppose. But do I have to talk with her tonight?”

Benjamin …

“Right.” He turned to the house and stared at the back door. Would Charity still be sitting at the table? Or had she gone elsewhere to grab a few moments of privacy, the way he had? He glanced at the orchard, wondering if maybe he should head down to the creek. But it felt like the good Lord was already getting impatient.

He looked back at the house, and a chill went up his spine at the thought of going inside.

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