The Wrong Brother's Bride by Allison Merritt Page A

in his letters. Sometimes he made it sound easier than logging.
    The family would have worked through dinnertime if he hadn’t called it. It was past noon if the shadows were any indication, and August wasn’t sure he’d be able to lift his arms above his head in the foreseeable future. The wagon was heaped in green. Tassels and leaves littered the ground around them.
    Stiles kept pace with August as they walked back to the yard. “Alright so far?”
    “Can’t complain. We didn’t figure we’d find help in time to save the crop. We’ve had some trouble with rumors.” Might as well get it out of the way. He could pay Stiles for the work they’d already done. If they didn’t want to associate with the O’Dells, there was no sense forcing it.
    They stood away from the house as he recounted his experience with Fowler and what had caused the trouble. He didn’t like sharing his business and waited for them to decide they were better off without his money.
    Mrs. Stiles hadn’t said a word to him all morning, but now she shook her head. “We’re not here to judge. We’d take work if it meant tanning hides and butchering hogs.”
    “Sounds as though Mrs. O’Dell is lucky to have a man willing to take up his brother’s yoke. Many wouldn’t.” Stiles offered a smile. “We’re lucky to find the work. It’d be a hard winter for us without farmers needin’ day laborers.”
    He was relieved they hadn’t decided to leave. They parted ways for dinner, sitting in the shade of the oak trees while he went inside.
    Loyal stood in the kitchen, eyeing the strangers from behind the curtains.
    “Feeling better?” August asked.
    She jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to him with wide eyes. “Am I dreaming?”
    “Not unless I am.” He smiled. “You ought to see the wagon. We’re going to bring in the whole crop.”
    Loyal’s brow wrinkled. “Can we afford so many workers?”
    He nodded, wishing he felt brave enough to cross the room and touch her. “We’ll be alright. I have money saved and Jeremiah had a good budget in place for the summer.”
    “And they know about…us?” Her voice was soft, hands folded protectively over her stomach.
    “I told them.” Would she ever let go of the fact that he was here because she had no other choice than to ask him? “They weren’t too concerned about it.”
    Relief loosened the worry on her face. “I’ll fix your dinner. Go wash up.”
    August hesitated. She’d exchanged her dirty dress for a dark blue one and fixed her auburn hair into a braid pinned to her head, which left little curls surrounding her face. He wanted to kiss her, undo her hair and let it fall over her shoulders. As he stared, her cheeks colored.
    “August?”
    He blinked and swallowed. “You look nice.”
    She reached up and patted her hair. “Thank you.”
    “Loyal, I—” He couldn’t tell her he loved her. She’d tell him he was wrong, that he was happy everything had worked out and he was confusing his emotions. Or that no one could love him because of his past. He wouldn’t be able to stand it if she turned him away. “I’ll be back after I wash.”
    He’d saved the farm, but he hadn’t won Loyal. He wasn’t sure how to begin.
     
     

 
    9
     
    It was nearly dark when August dragged his feet across the threshold. Loyal set aside her sewing and stared up at her husband.
    “We’re finished.” He hung his hat on the peg and brushed his hand through his hair. Dirt encrusted boots wobbled on the mat she’d laid by the door for him. Although the bruises around his eye were only the faintest yellow and the swelling was gone, there was weariness in his body that almost made her ache in sympathy. It was obvious from his wet shirt collar and sleeves he’d cleaned up in the rain barrel before coming in. His gaze drifted toward his room.
    “You look worn to the bone.”
    “I’m looking forward to bed,” he admitted.
    She frowned. “I left dinner on the warmer. You should