Chapter Seven #2
The more he thought about it, the more he realized that she couldn’t have chosen this life.
Not really. Sure, she’d agreed to marry him, but did she truly understand what that meant?
She had no real way of knowing what she was getting herself into.
The only familiar thing about this place was her sisters, and they were married now, with houses of their own to take care of.
Seth sighed and ran a hand through his hair, feeling the sweat that coated his palms. He wanted to believe they could find a way to figure all this out; that they’d somehow learn to live and work together.
But right now, it felt like they were speaking two different languages, and neither one of them knew what in the world the other was saying.
***
Seth leaned against the barn door, wiping the sweat from his brow. The day had been long and frustrating. He hadn’t eaten much. He had paused his outside chores to go inside and nab whatever crumb of uncooked food he could find to sustain himself throughout the day.
Time to go back in… He tried to encourage himself. He had to get a little bit of motivation, or he wasn’t sure he would go back in; and there was no way he could let her take over his house to the point that he was afraid to go in.
“Let’s get to it…” he grumbled, pushing himself off the barn doorframe to head back in the house.
The scent of laundry soap and clean water met him as he walked in, and he could see the clothes outside the kitchen window, hanging neatly to dry on the line in the backyard.
He craned his neck to look out the window at the rows of damp clothes swaying. At least she’d finished cleaning the laundry, and had moved on past hanging it to dry.
He walked through the rest of the house, curious. Floors had been cleaned. Windows, too. Then something hit his nose like a bullet. A smell. A wafting fragrance of something… an egg?
He returned to the kitchen to see Annabelle standing at the stove.
“Annabelle?”
She turned and held out a full plate with a fork. “Fried a few eggs. But… I don’t know how to do much else in the way of cooking,” she finally admitted.
Seth blinked, surprised. Maybe she was learning.
Slowly… but surely. Not without a fight. But she was. And she was doing it for him. “That might be the first nice thing you’ve ever done for me,” he said, almost exasperated at the sight of something cooked. He took the plate eagerly and sat down at the table, stomach growling in anticipation.
He scooped as much as he could fit on his fork into his mouth in one large bite. “It’s good,” he said, his mouth full.
Annabelle smiled… and so did he.
At least they weren’t biting each other’s heads off. Now he was able to eat in peace.
***
“Took you long enough,” Henry called. He and Jack watched as Seth stumped wearily up his porch. The day was gone, and night had risen in the sky. Crickets sang a tune.
Seth had always liked Henry’s porch. It had four large rocking chairs, with whiskey barrels next to each that held lanterns on top for light on nights just like tonight.
Henry tipped his hat back with a grin as he rocked in his chair. “Where you been?”
“Had things to finish up at the ranch,” Seth replied, sliding into the empty rocking chair next to Jack.
Jack pushed a whiskey glass across the barrel between his chair and Seth’s, and Seth nodded a word of thanks before taking a sip.
It burned, but did it feel good after a long day of work.
And arguments—one of which he’d just had right before he left the ranch.
He hadn’t even meant to. All he’d said was that he was going to meet Henry and Jack, and for some reason, Annabelle got angry. She started yelling—something about how she’d cleaned up his mess, only for him to leave the house at the end of the day.
He sighed and rolled his eyes just thinking about it. Just another annoyance.
“Things still rough with Annabelle?” Jack asked, a smirk playing on his lips.
Seth glared in response. He hated that smirk.
He wanted to smack it right off Jack’s face.
“She had the nerve to get on my nerves all day, starve me to death, and then get mad at me for coming out here! Said somethin’ about me having the nerve to go be with my friends after she had done nothin’ but clean up after me all day! ”
Both men laughed, and Seth took a giant sip of his drink.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, Seth,” Henry sighed. “Can’t say I’ve got any advice for you. I’ve got the best wife a man could find. She’s patient, and kind. I am definitely in love.”
Both Seth and Jack froze, their glasses hovering in midair as if they were about to cheer him.
“Glad to hear,” Seth grumbled after a moment. “You married her, so I would hope so.”
Jack scoffed. “You married Annabelle. What’s your reason?”
Seth shot Henry a dirty look. “I was practically forced.”
But Henry wasn’t listening. “Mary is perfect. Sweet, kind… and beautiful.”
Seth was ready to gag.
“She’s got you twisted around her finger,” Jack teased, leaning back in his chair. “But I’ll grant you that she’s a good match for you. Keeps you honest.”
“What about you, Jack?” Seth asked sarcastically. “You could sure use a little more honesty in your life. How does your new bride hold up?” He didn’t really care about Jack’s answer, but he wanted to move the conversation away from Henry’s dramatics.
Jack grinned. “She’s trouble.”
“Trouble?” Seth asked, his brows raised, almost surprised. Annabelle was trouble, too—but it certainly wasn’t something to grin about.
“She’s fun,” Jack corrected, lifting his flask in a mock toast. “And that’s what counts.”
“Fun doesn’t last,” Henry rebuked him, but there was no malice in his tone.
“And you?” Jack asked, turning his attention to Seth. “What’s got you so sour lately? Annabelle’s clearly got you all twisted up, but why?”
Seth’s jaw tightened, and he took another long sip of whiskey before answering. “I’m not twisted up. She’s just… infuriating.”
“Infuriating?” Henry laughed. “That’s an interesting word for the woman you married.”
“I only married her because y’all wouldn’t give it up,” Seth snapped.
But he knew good and well that some part of him must have wanted it.
No one could have convinced him to do anything he didn’t want to do.
“I don’t know,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“She’s… stubborn. Headstrong. Always ready for a fight. ”
“Sounds familiar,” Jack laughed, that stupid smirk returning. “Can’t imagine why that’d bother you.”
“She’s not like me,” Seth argued back. “She’s… different.”
“Different ain’t always bad,” Henry said. “Don’t you want your bride to be different than the others?”
Seth hesitated, his fingers drumming against the table. “She’s got this fire to her. Makes me want to… I don’t know. Argue with her, just to see her riled up. But at the same time, I can’t stand her. She vexes me.”
“Ah,” Jack said with a knowing look. “You’re smitten.”
Seth’s anger could’ve melted steel, it was so fierce and hot. He glared furiously at Jack. “I am not smitten.”
“I’d say you are!” Henry laughed. “You’ve finally met your match—someone who won’t take your attitude and keeps you on your toes.”
“She doesn’t take anyone’s attitude,” Seth muttered.
That much was true. Annabelle was really unlike anyone he had ever known.
She was fiery and unpredictable. Sometimes she was sweet, kind, and the very picture of a wife, like when she’d made him eggs after his long, hungry morning.
Other times, it was like she had lost her marbles, like when she’d wanted to start a fight after over the laundry and then again just earlier before he’d left for Henry’s.
But whether her temper was angelic or diabolic, the fact was that he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
“You’re in trouble, my friend,” Jack said, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to Seth and his fiery bride, Annabelle! May they find a lifelong happiness!”
“Here, here!” Henry cried enthusiastically. Seth groaned.