“That’s what you always say, Ma,” Rhett said.
The hint of a smile that formed on her lips put a faint shine on her face. “Yes, it is.” Turning his way, she nodded. “I’d—We’d be honored to share a meal with you, Mr. Blackwell, and we sincerely appreciate the invitation.”
“I’ll get another plate,” Wyatt said, displaying a full smile.
“I’ll help him,” Rhett offered.
The younger brother had smiled many times during their short visit, but Wyatt hadn’t, and by the smile that grew on the woman’s face, Brett would bet it was the first time she’d smiled in a while too. He wanted to know why. And he wanted to change that. Someone as pretty as she was should be smiling all the time.
“Thank you, Mr. Blackwell,” she said, holding her hand out. “I hope the boys haven’t made themselves a nuisance.”
“Not at all, ma’am.” He shook her hand, noting the soft skin on the back of her hand couldn’t hide the calluses on her palm. “Welcome to Oak Grove.”
“Thank you,” she answered softly, sincerely. “Thank you very much.”
Not quite ready to let go of her hand, he tugged her toward the table. Up close he noticed how unique her eyes were. They held no distinct color, but a mixture of gray, green and brown, and a light appeared in them as she bowed her head slightly.
With a timid smile, she said, “The fish smells wonderful.”
He couldn’t smell anything but flowers. Sweet-smelling flowers that gave off such a wonderful scent all he wanted to do was breathe it in.
“I bet it tastes just as good too.”
Brought back from fields of flowers by little Rhett’s voice, Brett let go of her hand to pull out the chair. “Let’s eat while it’s hot,” he said. “Otherwise, it’ll start to stink.” Giving Fiona a friendly wink, he added, “Fish is like that.”
Fiona pinched her lips to keep from giggling as the big man took his seat at the end of the table beside her. He was so friendly, so kind, her insides were practically dancing. This was the kind of welcome she’d hoped her sons would experience. Something that would assure them they were welcome here. That their lives would forever be changed, forever be better than they’d been back in Ohio. If only Josiah Melbourne had been so welcoming to her and her sons. He’d been more concerned that she and the children wouldn’t behave appropriately—and had gone so far as to write a list of things they could do and things they could not do. She’d nearly gnawed the end off her tongue while forcing herself to remain tolerant. And silent. As he’d suggested. Until she’d seen the boys encounter the blacksmith.
Josiah had stopped her on the way out the door, insisting that Brett Blackwell was harmless and would keep the boys busy while he and she continued to discuss their arrangement. A discussion she’d feared would never end. Her first impression of Josiah hadn’t improved much, and she was already afraid she’d made a mistake in coming to Kansas.
She’d thanked whatever lucky stars she might have left when Josiah had finally taken his leave, only to remember she didn’t have anything to feed them for supper. Arriving at Brett Blackwell’s open back door and seeing her boys seated at the table full of food had been enough to bring tears to her eyes. But it had been his charm, the way he’d coaxed her into believing he truly wanted to share this meal with them, that had broken through the tough exterior she’d tried to hold in place.
He was right, the children were hungry, and thankfully he hadn’t questioned why she hadn’t had any other plans of how to feed them this evening. He couldn’t possibly know how much this meal meant to her right now.
“Thank you,” she said while taking the platter of fish fried to a golden brown. After forking the smallest piece onto her plate, she passed the platter on to Wyatt. Brett then handed her another platter full of fried eggs. There had to be more than a dozen. She took one, the smallest, and then passed that platter on to Wyatt, as well.
As Rhett, who now had the fish platter, slid a third piece of fish onto his plate, she opened her mouth to tell him that was enough, but a large hand gently touched her wrist.
“There’s too much here for me to eat, so you boys best eat until you’re too full to swallow another bite,” Brett said.
He removed his hand from her arm and, with a nod, gestured for everyone to start eating. The boys needed no more encouragement than that, and as Fiona watched them begin eating with gusto, her own stomach flipped. She swallowed hard against the sensation that sent a lump into her throat. When she’d mentioned to Josiah that her sons were hungry, that they hadn’t eaten since last night, he’d interrupted her to point out that if it had just been her on the train, she would have had three meals a day.
Anger had flared inside her, yet at that moment, she’d never felt more trapped. Mr. Melbourne had paid for their accommodations, and she had no means to reimburse him, so she’d forced herself to once again remain silent. Furthermore, in a moment when she’d believed there had been no other option, she’d given him her word that she would marry him. Therefore, she would. She had never gone back on her word and wouldn’t now. Her children needed to know remaining true to one’s word, although sometimes difficult, was the right way. The only way.
“Eat,” Brett said quietly. “Before it gets cold.”
She nodded, and though each bite swelled in her throat, she forced it down and took the next one. Just as she would each and every obstacle that came her way. Eventually it would get easier.
At least that was her hope.
When her plate was empty, she set down her fork. Within seconds, Brett handed her the platter that remarkably still held several pieces of fish. It made her think of Jesus feeding the masses, and that was enough to bring tears to her eyes. She hadn’t asked for a miracle, yet it appeared one was happening. With tears stinging her eyes, she shook her head.
“You haven’t eaten enough to keep a bird alive,” Brett said, sliding two more pieces of fish onto her plate. He then added two more eggs to her plate before holding the plate over the center of the table. “Anyone else need more?”
Both boys eagerly accepted the offer, and the man, whose booming voice could startle birds from the trees in the next state, laughed so softly, she may have been the only one to hear it.
When little more than crumbs sat on all the plates and platters circling the table, Fiona said, “I do believe that was the best fish I’ve ever eaten.”
“Me too,” Rhett agreed. “I didn’t even know I liked fish that much.”
Laughter, including hers, filled the room. As it settled, Fiona set her napkin on the table. “Mr. Blackwell, we can’t thank you enough for this fine meal. Therefore, I do hope you won’t mind when I insist upon doing the dishes. It’s the least I can do.”
“That’s not necessary, ma’am,” he said while shaking his head.
“I believe it is,” she said. “And I insist.”
He jumped to his feet to pull her chair back as she prepared to stand. Hoping he understood that she had to repay him in some way, she looked up to meet his gaze.
There was tenderness in his blue eyes, but there was something more, something she wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen before, but an inner, almost foreign instinct said it was respect.
“I will allow you to help with the dishes,” he said. “I’ve been doing them for so long, I’d feel lazy watching you do them all by yourself.”
“Well, I guess that’s fair,” she said, rising to her feet.
“We’ll help,” Wyatt offered.
Lately, there hadn’t been many opportunities for her to feel pride, or be proud of her sons, but she was proud at this moment. The table was cleared in no time, and with her permission,