Читать книгу Secrets In Texas - Carrie Weaver - Страница 13

ELEANOR GESTURED toward an empty space at the oblong dining room table. “You may sit there.”

“Thank you,” Angel murmured. The wooden chair was hard and unyielding against her rear.

Angel glanced at the two empty picnic-style tables. “When do the children eat?”

“My children are grown. Their bedrooms upstairs were converted to classrooms. The younger children come here every morning for classes. I used to do all the teaching, but Ruth is fulfilling many of the duties.”

“I see.”

Eleanor pursed her lips. “I hope you slept well.”

Angel got the impression she hoped the opposite was true. Sarcasm didn’t suit the older woman.

“Yes, we did. Is there anything I can do to help with breakfast?”

“Not now. An extra pair of hands would have been welcome an hour ago, though. Perhaps tomorrow you can get up earlier and help prepare.”

Angel bit back a retort at the implied criticism. Calling Eleanor a sanctimonious bitch wouldn’t help matters. It would make Angel feel much better, though. Sighing, she exercised self-control and let her annoyance go. “Perhaps. If my husband doesn’t have other plans for me.”

“I’m sure he could spare you for an hour.”

“I’ll talk to Matthew. He should be here in just a minute.” Angel had fled the bedroom, flustered by the intimacy of sharing the small space with him. Or maybe it had been the intimacy of his stories the night before and how easily she’d fallen asleep. She felt safe with Matt, and that fact in itself terrified her.

Afraid to feel safe. How messed up was that?

“Ruth, help me with the food,” Eleanor said, nodding toward the young girl, who had slipped into the room.

“Yes, Sister.” Ruth scurried to help, her voice breathy when she asked, “Where is Brother Matthew?”

Angel ignored the quick stab of possessiveness. She was merely feeling territorial because of her tenuous position here at the ranch. She was an outsider and she doubted Eleanor would let her forget it.

“He, um, wanted to have time alone for Bible study.”

Eleanor nodded. “We’ll wait breakfast for him.”

“Thank you.”

“What lovely lace.” Angel fingered the crocheted runner gracing the center of the table.

“I made it myself.”

“Wow. This is really fine work.”

“It’ll do.” Eleanor’s words were spare, but her cheeks were pink. Angel wondered if she’d received much praise in her life.

“Aunt Eleanor is a whiz with any kind of needlework.” Matthew entered the room.

“Thank you.” The older woman pulled out a chair at the foot of the table. “You may sit here, Matthew.”

Angel assumed the seat at the head of the table was reserved for Jonathon.

As if reading her mind, Eleanor said, “Jonathon won’t be joining us for breakfast. He called to say he’d like to see you in his study at eight-thirty.”

Angel’s pulse quickened. Jonathon’s study. Probably where he kept important documents. Maybe even something to implicate him in his landlord’s drug and weapons running? Or possibly records confirming young girls were being married off to old goats?

“His study’s here at the house?” she asked.

“Yes. And he has an office in the main administration building.”

Angel filed away that tidbit of knowledge.

Matthew leaned forward. “I’m looking forward to getting reacquainted with my brothers and sisters.”

His statement confused Angel for a moment. Hadn’t he said he only had one sister left? But then she realized he probably had dozens of half sisters and brothers.

Eleanor passed a basket of biscuits. “I’m sure they’re eager to see you, too.”

“Will Uncle Jonathon arrange some kind of get-together?”

“You will have to ask him.”

Angel noted the older women didn’t deny or confirm knowledge of Jonathon’s plans. Interesting.

“If you’d like to take a walk later, I could show you around the settlement.” Ruth’s voice was sweet and shy, but there was a predatory gleam in her eyes. Or was Angel merely jumping to conclusions? She didn’t like the girl. Didn’t trust her. And she’d learned a long time ago to listen to her gut instinct.

“What a lovely offer, Ruth.” Angel forced a smile. “Matthew and I would enjoy having you show us around.”

Angel thought she saw an amused smile twitch at Matthew’s lips, but it was gone so quickly she couldn’t be sure.

“Yes, Angel and I would appreciate that, Ruth. I’ll have to see what my uncle has planned first, though.”

“Of course.”

Matthew commented, “Our accommodation’s quite comfortable. Thank you for giving us a corner room—as newlyweds, we appreciate the privacy. Is anyone in the room next to us?”

“No. It’s used for storage right now.”

Good. That meant they could talk in low voices in their bedroom and not worry about being overheard.

Matthew ate heartily, Angel noted. Eggs, sausage, hash browns, pancakes. Apparently Eleanor had never heard of a Pop-Tart.

“The meal was delicious, Aunt Eleanor.” Matthew wiped his mouth with his napkin.

“Thank you. I always make a hearty breakfast. A man can’t work on an empty stomach.”

Ruth nodded in agreement. Though the girl kept her eyes mostly downcast, Angel still intercepted a few adoring glances sent in Matthew’s direction. She got the distinct impression Ruth would love to cook for Matthew. And attend to a few other wifely duties, too.

Matthew, for his part, seemed oblivious. Glancing at his watch, he said, “Looks like I’ve got a few minutes till the meeting.” He rose, picking up his plate and utensils.

“Ruth will clear,” Aunt Eleanor informed him.

“I can take these to the sink. It’s no trouble.”

“Nonsense. Ruth, take his plate, please.”

The girl complied.

Matthew gave a slight shrug, his expression bland. Apparently, he’d forgotten men in the group were treated like royalty.

He said, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go get a little fresh air before our meeting with Uncle Jonathon.”

“I’ll come with you.” Angel picked up her plate, figuring nobody would rush to take it from her. She was right.

“Angel, dear, you can stay here and help clean up. You ought to be nice and rested since you slept so late.”

Angel winced inwardly. The woman had essentially called her lazy and done it in such a way that Angel would seem like a paranoid bitch if she called her on it.

“Of course, Aunt Eleanor.” Although she’d meant to sound conciliatory, Angel feared a touch of insincerity had reached her voice.

Eleanor’s mouth thinned. Yes, she’d heard the false note, too. Well, good. Put the old battle-ax on notice that Angel wasn’t a mindless twit to be ordered about.

Matthew grasped her chin with his hand, kissing her tenderly on the lips. At least it probably looked tender. The firmness of his grasp telegraphed a warning: Be good. Don’t cause any trouble.

Funny, she’d received the same warning as a child. Until her parents had realized admonishing her did no good. Angel did what she thought best, and to heck with the consequences.

That was one of the reasons her parents hadn’t investigated when she’d essentially dropped out of their lives. They’d accepted Kent’s excuses when they’d called. And on the few occasions she’d been in the room when Kent told his lies, she’d been too afraid to protest. Too afraid to demand contact with her parents. Because she’d known it would all become twisted into a huge act of disloyalty sure to send Kent into a rage.

“Be good,” Kent murmured. Only it wasn’t Kent. It was Matthew.

Habit and residual survival instinct prodded Angel to nod, her motion jerky. And then she hated herself for reverting to the easily manipulated girl she’d once been.

The urge to tell Matthew off was almost overwhelming. He’d put her in a position of subservience she’d sworn never to allow again. Anything less than being a full partner was dangerous.

She clenched her fists, her fingernails biting into her palm. This was a job, an assignment. It was merely playacting and had nothing to do with her past.

“Yes, Matthew.” She’d tried to achieve an adoring coo but fell short. Grudging acquiescence seemed to be the best she could do.

It seemed to be enough, because Matthew nodded. He grabbed his Windbreaker and went out the front door.

Angel released her breath. Some of the tenseness eased from her shoulders. Funny, Matthew was on her side but seemed like the enemy. She felt much more comfortable with Eleanor and Ruth, who she suspected would like nothing better than to get rid of her.

Angel separated utensils and stacked the plates, her motions automatic.

“At least you’re not afraid of a dirty dish,” Eleanor commented.

“I bussed tables at a Mexican restaurant in high school. Then waitressed my way through college.” She lifted the heavy stack of plates and carried them to the kitchen.

“Ruth, you can go get the children’s lessons ready while Angel and I do the dishes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The older woman bustled past Angel, taking the stack of plates from her and placing them in the sink. She ran water, added dish soap and retrieved clean, dry towels from the kitchen drawer. She handed a towel to Angel. “Here, you dry.”

Angel resisted the urge to salute. She was beginning to understand why Matthew insisted Eleanor might have nearly as much power as his uncle.

They worked in silence for several minutes.

“Jonathon indicates your marriage to Matthew is a love match. Your parents didn’t arrange the marriage? Or church elders?”

“No. We met in Phoenix. My family lives in Houston. I’m not Mormon, but I’ve promised Matthew I will abide by the teachings of the brethren.”

“Many young women find our ways too…strict.”

Angel met Eleanor’s gaze. “I was looking for a change.”

“Hmm. How did you know Matthew was suitable if you didn’t know his family?”

“I just looked at Matthew and knew. His eyes were so deep and kind. They never lie.” Angel was shocked to realize she believed the hogwash about Matthew’s character. At least she hoped it was hogwash. Because if Matthew really was one of the good guys, she was in deep, deep trouble. Being thrown together in close quarters on an assignment was not the time to let her guard down with a man.

“He always was a kind boy. Patient with the younger children. Bringing home hurt birds. Caring for the barn cats.”

Angel tried to regain her equilibrium, steeling herself against the hint of affection in the older woman’s voice. She didn’t want to see Eleanor as a person. She didn’t want to like Matthew. Yet she had to show wifely interest in her husband’s history. “Matthew mentioned he had a pet calf named Spot.”

A smile touched briefly at Eleanor’s lips, then was gone. “Yes. He was heartbroken after Spot was slaughtered.”

“I bet.”

“It was a necessary learning experience. We needed the animal for food and Matthew was aware of that. He chose to get attached.”

“He was a little boy, for goodness sake. Of course he got attached.”

“You’re from the city. You wouldn’t understand.”

Angel bit back a retort. She dried silently until she could get her temper under control. “What was Matthew’s mother like then?”

“Abigail was a righteous woman. But she lost sight of our way of life.”

“Did you know her when she was younger?”

Eleanor glanced at her sideways. “Of course I knew Abigail. She was my older sister.”

Sister?

“Matthew didn’t mention you were sisters. You must have missed her when she left.”

Eleanor hesitated, her expression softening. “There are days when I still miss her,” she murmured. “She was my closest friend growing up.”

Angel was surprised at the admission. “I, um, got the impression there was no love lost between you two.”

“There is much you don’t understand. Things changed after Matthew’s father died.”

“Because she married Jonathon.”

“It’s not unusual for a man in our community to marry his brother’s widow. It’s a way of caring for widows that dates before Joseph Smith, back to biblical times.”

“I, um, guess that’s one way to take care of it.” Angel preferred the idea of a nice fat whole-life insurance policy.

She shuddered to think of marrying into Kent’s family if he’d had a brother. It would have been like going from the frying pan into the fire. As it was, she hadn’t seen her in-laws since before Kent’s death. They’d held the funeral for their only son while she was in the hospital, never contacting her. No get-well card, no flowers, no I’m-sorry-our-son-was-a-monster-and-almost-killed-you phone calls.

“Are you prepared to welcome a sister wife into your home when Matthew thinks it’s time?”

The soapy plate slipped from Angel’s hand. Years of experience handling dishes came to her rescue and she managed to catch it before it hit the floor.

It was a good diversionary tactic, unintentional though it was. “Whew. Glad I caught that. I’d hate to break one of your dishes my first day here.”

Eleanor made an assenting noise low in her throat.

Matthew entered the kitchen and came up behind Angel. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the back of her neck.

For some silly reason, the gesture made her blush.

Maybe it was the wistfulness in Eleanor’s eyes.

Or maybe it was because the gesture of affection seemed so natural and reassuring.

“Matthew, don’t.” She made a token protest.

“Mmm. You smell good.” His breath tickled as he kissed the hollow behind her ear.

He was taking the loving-husband bit too far. She elbowed him in the gut. Not hard enough to knock the air out of him but enough to let him know to back off.

“Ow.” He rubbed his side. “Someone certainly is grumpy this morning.”

“Not grumpy. We don’t want to embarrass Aunt Eleanor.”

“I imagine she and Uncle Jonathon kissed every once in a while. Didn’t you, Aunt Eleanor?”

“It’s not seemly to discuss intimate subjects. Some things are best left in privacy. You have forgotten our ways, Matthew.”

“No, I’ve just remembered what I want to remember.” His tone was light, but Angel sensed an undercurrent.

“Jonathon will expect more than that. Complete obedience is necessary in our life. There is no place for self-centered desires.”

Angel wondered how much self-centered desires figured in with the elders taking multiple young wives.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Aunt Eleanor,” Matthew said. He released Angel and stepped back a pace. Angel was almost sorry to be deprived of his reassuring warmth.

Eleanor nodded, accepting his apology. “Go on ahead for your meeting with Jonathon. You know how he admires punctuality.”

“Yes, I remember. Are you ready, Angel?”

Angel nodded, drying her hands on the dish towel.

“Jonathon wanted to see you alone, Matthew.” Eleanor’s tone was stern.

“Anything he can say to me, he can say in front of Angel.”

“He will be displeased. He intends to take you to the elders’ meeting this morning. It is not right for a woman to be involved in men’s business.”

“Then the elders better save their business for another day. I want Angel to meet them and have a chance to talk to Uncle Jonathon. I want my wife to know my family.”

Eleanor sighed. “You always were a headstrong boy. Sweet but headstrong.”

“What do you think, Angel, dear? Does that pretty well describe me?”

Angel tilted her head, smiling in spite of herself. She couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease him. “Definitely headstrong. I’m not sure I agree with the sweet part.”

He stepped closer. “Then I guess I’ll have to show you later how sweet I can be.” The heat of his gaze left no room for misunderstanding. Either he was a very good actor or he was mentally making love to her.

The thought sent a shock through her. “Um, well, we should probably meet Uncle Jonathon.”

“Yes, I believe I saw him arrive a few moments ago.” Eleanor gazed out the kitchen window.

Angel hadn’t noticed his arrival and she’d been right by the window, too. But then again, she was beginning to believe Eleanor had almost otherworldly powers of observation. The woman didn’t seem to miss a thing.

“I’ll show you to his study.” Eleanor dried her hands on a towel, then patted her hair into place.

Angel thought it was kind of cute that the woman still cared what she looked like when her husband saw her. She also thought it was kind of sad, because Eleanor could never have the security of being Jonathon’s one and only love.

They followed her down a hallway. She stopped at a closed door and tapped. “Jonathon, Matthew’s here to see you.”

She didn’t include Angel in her announcement. Smart woman. She was going to let Matthew explain why he’d brought the little woman to a guys-only meeting.