The Engagement Charade. Karen Kirst
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“For what? We feed you. Clothe you. We need you doing chores around here. Poor Nadine is working her fingers to the bone.”
The stench of Howard’s cigars permeating the room made Ellie’s stomach churn. “She wasn’t complaining when I paid her my portion for room and board. She’s bought enough fabric for three Sunday dresses since I started work.”
Gladys shot forward and gripped Ellie’s forearm so hard she yelped. “Don’t you sass me, girl. My Nolan may be gone, but that doesn’t give you the right to disrespect us. This is our home you’re standing in, don’t forget.”
How could she? The Jamesons hadn’t welcomed her into their fold. They’d treated her like an outsider from the start. “You’re hurting me.”
Howard finally spoke. “It’s late.”
He moved to stand beside his wife. Tall and muscled from years of physical labor, his craggy features were so like Nolan’s it made her chest twinge with sorrow. She wished she’d been better at making her husband happy. She wished they’d had a stronger marriage.
“We can discuss this tomorrow morning.”
Uttering a huff of disgust, Gladys released her and trudged off to bed. Ellie didn’t waste time making her escape. “Good night, Howard.”
Outside in the inky-black night, she breathed in fresh air tinged with scents of earth and pine and lightly rubbed the sore spot on her arm. She gazed at the star-studded heavens. You hung those stars, God. You placed the planets in the sky. My problems seem mighty to me, but to You they’re easily managed. Lead me, Father. Give me wisdom.
She put a protective hand over her stomach and felt a rush of joy tempered with uncertainty. Please God, I beg You, let me keep this one. My husband is lost to me. The other babies are in the arms of Jesus. I want this child with every fiber of my being. I promise to love him or her and teach them to love You.
“Ellie.”
She jumped. “Ralph! I didn’t know you were out here.”
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Is there something you needed?”
Quiet, gentle-giant Ralph Michaels had been a surprising ally. While he didn’t possess the backbone to go against his wife and mother-in-law, he’d provided subtle support, especially since Nolan’s passing.
The lack of a lantern made it difficult to make out his expression. “I know your secret.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. Was he referring to her desire to find a place of her own? Couldn’t be. She hadn’t voiced that to anyone, which meant...
“You know about the baby?”
“I saw you being sick the other morning out behind the barn, and again the other night.”
Pressing her hands to her throat, she pleaded, “I beg you to keep this between us. I’m not ready to tell Nadine or Gladys.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“Then why...”
“You should leave this cove.” His eyes gleamed with purpose. “I love my wife. I’m aware of her faults, however. Never could figure why she and Gladys treated you the way they did.”
“I wasn’t good enough for Nolan. I failed to make him happy.”
“They worshipped him,” he agreed. “I’m afraid of what they’ll do once they learn you’re carrying his child.”
Apprehension coiled tight. What if they tried to turn her own child against her? If she hadn’t been good enough for Nolan, she certainly wouldn’t be a satisfactory mother for his child. The fact that Nadine had never been able to conceive added an extra layer of worry.
His fingers brushed her upper arm. “Do you have enough money saved for a place of your own?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t spent any besides the portion I’ve been giving Nadine.”
“You should make inquiries in town,” Ralph said softly.
Her mind spinning, she agreed. “I think you’re right.”
She’d been toying with the idea for months—now it seemed she had to put thoughts into action. Ellie would go to any lengths to protect her child.
Chapter Three
Ellie was patting out the biscuit dough the next morning when Alexander descended the stairs earlier than usual. Her pressing problem was momentarily forgotten as embarrassment stung her cheeks. She could only imagine what he thought about her tactless in-laws.
“Good mornin’, boss.” Flo cracked another egg into the bowl of flapjack batter. “Would you like breakfast?”
He stopped on the bottom tread, his inscrutable blue gaze locked onto Ellie. “I already ate.”
Shrugging, Flo went back to cracking eggs.
Alexander was in the habit of fixing his own breakfast in his apartment. No doubt he stuck to bland foods like oatmeal or scrambled eggs with toast. She wasn’t sure what he’d done for lunch and supper before she came, but since the day he’d returned from the doctor, she’d prepared special dishes that wouldn’t aggravate his stomach. He ate them alone in his office, a sad state of affairs in her opinion. Not that what she thought would make a difference to him.
As usual, his formal attire accentuated his natural reserve. Clad almost completely in mourning colors—midnight-black vest, pressed black trousers and polished, round-tipped shoes—a bottle-green dress shirt provided welcome color. His clothing fit his whipcord-lean frame to perfection. His glossy raven locks were combed off his forehead, the ends curling around his collar. He’d shaved today. Ellie admired the clean planes of his handsome face before jerking her gaze back to the biscuits.
I’m happy his health seems much improved, that’s all, she assured herself.
His footsteps didn’t carry him to the hallway, as expected. Instead, he approached the table near the stoves where she worked.
“Mrs. Jameson.”
She frowned, wondering exactly when she’d come to dislike being called that. “It’s Ellie,” she countered. “You call Flo and Sally by their first names. Why do you refuse to use mine? Did you have a schoolmate named Ellie when you were young? A girl who teased you unmercifully? Or an old, crotchety aunt named Ellie who pinched your cheek too hard and made you eat beets?”
Flo’s chuckling filled the sudden silence. Alexander looked taken aback. “You’re the first Ellie I’ve encountered.”
“Then may we cease with the formality?”
“Ellie, I’m going into my office now.”
“Can I get you a glass of milk? Or chamomile tea?”
“No milk. No