Part 10 (1/2)
The wagon rolled and swayed, jostling Anna on the seat. Mr. Denton had not said so much as a word to her since leaving the confectionery. He had simply made arrangements with a dentist to have some teeth made for Mrs. Wrenne, walked them back to the Occidental, then propelled Anna out to his wagon.
They'd been on the crude road for almost an hour and he still hadn't said anything. Perhaps they would make it all the way to his lumber camp in peace and quiet.
”Judge Rountree holds half my property in the palm of his hand.” Denton's growl broke the silence. ”I'd appreciate it if you didn't insult him at all, much less in his own home.”
So much for peace and quiet.
”He named his children One, Two, Three, and Four,” she said. ”He deserves to be insulted.”
”That's not the point. The point is I can't afford to alienate him and now that you are my responsibility, I can't have you offending him either.”
”Well, who would have thought someone would do that to his own children? I thought the boy was lying, for heaven's sake.”
”Well, he wasn't. O.B. hates his name, and rather than saddling his kids with a name they hate, he decided to let them pick their own.”
”So he calls them One, Two, Three, and Four? That's his solution to giving them names they won't hate?”
”They're temporary.”
”They're preposterous.”
”Are you listening to me, Anna? I won't have you insulting him.”
The outrage she felt on the children's behalf continued to brew inside her. ”Oh dear,” she said, affecting a pout. ”Are we habing our foist fight?”
He yanked the horses to a stop. She'd have flown right off the seat if he hadn't grabbed her and jerked her around to face him.
”Mrs. Wrenne is the woman I'm going to marry and I won't tolerate you or anyone else making fun of her. You understand me, missy?”
She immediately felt contrite. She hadn't meant to say that, but she was just so blame mad. And it wasn't only because of the children. She narrowed her eyes. ”How dare you lecture me when you're marrying her only as a means to an end?”
He gave her a shake. ”I won't have you making fun of her. Do you understand?”
Wrenching herself from his hold, she straightened her backbone, refusing to be cowed by him. ”Those are awfully strong words from a man who is using her.”
”No more than she's using me.” He s.n.a.t.c.hed up the reins.
All the starch wilted from her. ”But aren't you ashamed?”
”You're the one who ought to be ashamed. Making fun of her lisp like that.”
”I am. I'm sorry I did it and I won't do again.” She glared at him. ”And you? Are you ashamed?”
He flicked the ribbons, causing the horse to pick up some speed. ”Not one single bit.”
The rain started less than an hour later. The wagon's canopy offered little protection from the moisture blowing in from the sides. It didn't take long to penetrate Anna's clothing, and try as she might, she couldn't keep her s.h.i.+vers at bay.
Joe shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on her lap. ”Didn't it occur to you to bring a coat?”
She shoved his jacket back at him, pressing it against his side. ”I don't have one.”
”I thought it got cold in Ma.s.sachusetts.”
”It does.”
He hesitated. ”Well, put that one on, then.”
”I don't want it.”
”Put it on.”
”I don't want it.”
”Put. It. On.”
”No.”
He turned to look at her. Slowly, slowly. He really was a large man.
”Don't make me stop the wagon again.”
”Will you hit me?”
His mouth fell open. ”Will I hit you?”
”Well? Will you?”
His horrified expression was better than any answer he could have given. Still, she refused to be the first to break eye contact.
”For the love of the saints, Anna.” The edge in his voice dissipated. ”Put the stupid thing on.”
A breeze cut straight through her wet clothing. Lifting her chin, she tucked the jacket over her shoulders. Warmth immediately encompa.s.sed her along with the now-familiar smell of cedar. He plucked off his hat and stuffed it onto her head. It fell clear to her nose.
Pus.h.i.+ng it up she looked at him, then jerked herself straight when a rivulet of water poured off its rim and down her back.
The rain continued, saturating his s.h.i.+rt, his trousers, his hair, his skin. He never said a word. Never so much as wiped his face.
The farther they went, the thicker the forest became on either side of the road. Never in her life had she seen so many trees. Tall ones. Short ones. Skinny ones. Fat ones.
”The evergreens here look different than the ones at home.”
He continued to stare straight ahead, moisture collecting on his lashes.
She picked up a fallen twig from the wagon floor. ”They're a darker green. And the needles are different, too. Rounder. Fatter.”
The horse's hooves made a suctioning noise in the mud.
”What's your horse's name?”