Second-Chance Bride (Dakota Brides Book 3)(2)

His mouth tightened. “You’ll forgive me if I say I have no reason to accept that as the truth.”

“And perhaps what Baruk said about me?” She hoped her husband had thought of her from time to time while he was in America and she was in Norway waiting for him to send for her.

“Yes, Baruk was a decent man.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve said it already, but I’ll say it again. I’m sorry about your loss.”

“Thank you.” They’d had this conversation the day she arrived. She’d accepted his condolences even though she didn’t deserve them. She hadn’t known Baruk that well when they married. Seems about the only thing either of them cared about was getting to America. They’d been married six weeks when he made it clear he would go ahead without her. That was almost two years ago. What she remembered of him was tangled up in dreams and disappointments until she wasn’t sure what he was really like.

“Mr. Rollins.” the woman on the step called. Her tone said she’d had enough waiting.

Ward looked into the distance as if seeking an answer there. Or perhaps wishing he could escape the problems of this place.

Freyda didn’t know why she should try and convince him to let her look after the boys, but she did. “You can rest assured we’ll do quite fine for the time it takes you to go to town and back.”

Three faces studied her with doubt and trepidation. Ward had dark brown hair. His equally dark brown eyes pierced into her thoughts. She steeled herself not to look away though she was aware the two little boys, with coloring matching their father’s, wore the same wary expression he did.

“Mr. Rollins.” Mrs. Wright’s voice carried enough impatience to overfill a trough.

“I’m coming.” He put Kit on the ground and took each boy by the hand. “Come along. We have to go.”

The boys hung back.

“Boys, come.”

But the boys dragged their feet.

“Not with her,” Kit said. He wrinkled up his face, preparing to cry.

Milo simply looked at his papa, his expression hard with stubbornness.

Ward slowly came round to face Freyda. “If you would keep them until I get back, I would be grateful.”

“Of course.” She half considered pointing out that she had already offered, but knew better than to rub salt into the wounds of his already battered state.

The boys followed him to the barn.

Freyda didn’t want to follow them, but neither did she want to go to the house and visit with Mrs. Wright.

“You will have your hands full with that pair,” Mrs. Wright called.

“Ja?” Dare she hope the woman would be put off by being answered in Norwegian?

“Their father lets them run wild. Won’t allow anyone to discipline them. He’s had four housekeepers and dismissed them all because they tried to tame those wild boys of his. I doubt he’ll find anyone else willing to come and take care of them. ”

“Ja?”

“Spare the rod and spoil the child. That’s from the Bible you know.”

“Ja.” Freyda clamped her teeth to keep from pointing out that Mrs. Wright’s discipline was harsh.

Thankfully, Ward led the horse and wagon from the barn at that point, putting an end to anything more the woman might say.

The boys stuck so close they were almost a part of him. Ward went to the house where Mrs. Wright waited. As he drew closer, the boys put more and more distance between them and their father.

Freyda eased toward the house as well. Ward would need assurance that she would watch his boys carefully.

Ward took Mrs. Wright’s belongings and put them in the wagon then reached out to help her up to the seat, but the woman sniffed and heaved herself upward on her own. She stalled about halfway then yanked her skirts and plunked down heavily on the seat.

Ward climbed up beside her, but didn’t flick the reins or tell the horses to move on. He stared straight ahead, his jaw muscles bunching and unbunching. Then his shoulders rose and fell as if he took in more than the usual amount of air.

“Boys.” He brought his gaze to them. “I’ll be back soon. Be good.”

Milo held Kit’s hand. “Yes, Papa.”

Mrs. Wright snorted, bringing a dark flash to Ward’s eyes. He gave Freyda a look that sent a tremor up her spine. His warning couldn’t have been any clearer. He would not tolerate any harm coming to his boys.

“I have lots of younger cousins, so I’m quite familiar with children.”

His expression didn’t lighten and she knew her information hadn’t impressed him.

Mrs. Wright gave another snort. “I’ll guarantee you have not dealt with children like those two.”

“Enough,” Ward muttered, and flicked the reins.

Freyda and the boys watched the wagon rumble away. As it turned onto the main road, Freyda sucked in a deep breath and faced the boys. “What should we do?”

The pair stared at her, their expressions blank as if they hadn’t heard her.

She chuckled. She had a little cousin who did the same when he didn’t want to do something. “Would you prefer to play by yourselves?”

Milo grabbed Kit’s hand and they raced away, not stopping until they were out of sight behind the barn.

Freyda shrugged. She could hardly blame them for being wary of her. She could go inside and wait. But she hadn’t been invited to make herself at home. Surely an oversight. Ward couldn’t expect her to stand in the middle of the yard for the hour it would take him to go to town and back.