9. Ambrose
Ambrose
My body went rigid at Zeth’s question. To say I was unprepared was an understatement. I was never prepared to talk about Father’s banking business. I hated banking, and that hadn’t changed since we were kids, so why was Zeth torturing me with it now? No doubt to thumb a sore spot.
I had done well so far in keeping myself poised in front of Annabelle, so I paused briefly to think of a reply before answering, “I’m working my way up to managing the bank. In fact, I’ll begin training soon. It’s quite a lot to learn as I climb the ladder, but I’m enjoying it.”
“Oh, really?” Zeth tilted his head. “Which part do you like?”
“Ah… granting loans,” I hedged. He didn’t need to know that delivering mail was what I liked most.
“Delightful,” Zeth hummed, sounding for all the world like he caught me lying. My body flushed despite the chilly breeze.
We needed to drop this subject, fast. I locked eyes with Zeth’s golden hues, quickly darting them toward Annabelle and back. My warning had to be clear that talking about the bank made me nervous. But Zeth smirked, as if he had more up his sleeve.
“We should visit the bank this week, Anna, to witness Ambrose hard at work,” Zeth continued. “His bookish nose buried deep in paperwork. Could be entertaining.”
My, he was persistent in humiliating me. “Loans are hardly entertaining,” I corrected. Did he think I looked bookish because of my glasses? I pushed them up my nose, hating how right he might be.
“I never thought you’d work in the bank,” Zeth pressed on, undeterred.
“You never had an interest in it when we were younger. In fact, I remember when you wanted to throw eggs…” Zeth paused for a moment before he shook his head.
Maybe he was reliving the pain of falling from the chicken coop and injuring his shoulder.
It still pained me as well, and I winced just thinking about it.
I never meant for him to get so hurt from a dare .
But Zeth didn’t seem bothered now as he dug up our past. “Aye, why don’t you tell Anna about your plan to egg your father’s establishment on the day of the Founders Day festival? ”
“Oh, Ambrose, you wouldn’t! Is that why you dared Zeth to climb the chicken coop?”
“Zeth told you about that?”
Amusement glimmered on Annabelle’s face as she nodded. I didn’t want her to think I wished harm to my father’s business like a naughty child. It didn’t matter that we were children. It was supposed to be a secret. All our adventures were a secret between me and Zeth. And he’d betrayed our trust.
My nose twitched, and I shot him a spiteful stare. When Zeth flashed a devilish grin, I decided to turn the tables. “Enough about me, Mr. Washer. I imagine auctioneering has some excitement. Where do you work?”
Zeth delayed a moment, glancing forward, no doubt to come up with his next lie. “Ah, looks like we arrived.”
Is he serious?
I fumed inwardly but let his diversion go since we indeed had reached the lake. The path opened up to a large body of clear, greenish-blue water. The sun peeked over the surrounding tree tops, the rays of light creating a lovely morning haze.
Annabelle nudged me over to a log that was strategically placed by the water. Zeth followed and set the basket down, his lean body moving gracefully. I thought tall men were supposed to be awkward in their limbs. Damn myself for admiring how he’d grown in all the right places.
When he straightened and held a fishing pole out to me, I eyed him with distrust. With how childish he’d acted with the broken statue head, he was bound to throw the pole in the grass or accidentally break it. To my surprise, he handed it over.
Good. Hopefully, this was the start of him toning down his backhanded comments and jokes. If he did, I’d offer him the same grace.
“You get the shortest pole, pipsqueak,” Zeth teased with a playful wink.
And there it was. I should have known he wasn’t done with the insults. I snatched up the pole, especially annoyed by that outrageous wink. Zeth’s words and actions held some warmth, as if he liked me a little shorter than him. I had to admit, I liked it too.
No, no , I didn’t like it. I didn’t like how tall he was, or his stupid wink.
Zeth turned and sat on the far edge of the log while Annabelle joined him. Reluctantly, I followed, sandwiching her in.
Annabelle didn’t need any fishing lessons from me or Zeth, and I was happy to see how she took control when I offered to help bait her hook, as I used to bait Zeth’s. He hated bugs and anything that crawled. Annabelle, however, dug into the small container of worms I’d brought as if unbothered.
Zeth sat there eyeing the bucket of dirty worms with distaste. Or eyeing me with distaste. That part wasn’t clear.
“Come on, you two, let’s relax and have some fun,” Annabelle told us.
“Hmm,” Zeth agreed to having fun without agreeing. He squinted in the mid-morning light as he touched different parts of his pole. “I haven’t fished much, and I’m a bit of a City boy now.” He glanced at Annabelle. “Would you mind showing me how it’s done?”
My eyes narrowed as I baited my own hook and ignored his fat lies. Fishing when we were boys had been one of our favorite pastimes. This was also how Zeth fed his family during most of the summer. We often spent our afternoons catching enough for all the Washers to eat.
As I watched him eye the pole while Annabelle instructed him on where to hold it and how to reel, I wondered if he had come into some money.
Maybe Zeth really hadn’t fished in years.
Perhaps he was only worming his way into Annabelle’s affections by trying to be charming, in an aggressive way.
Or maybe he wanted Annabelle to grip his pole.
“Yes, you’ve got it now. You’re a quick learner,” Annabelle assured him.
When she turned to me, I felt stupidly tempted to forget how to fish too. Instead, I stood to toss the line out with a skilled snap. After the bobber hit the water, I settled on the log again with a rather dull sigh.
Annabelle straightened. “I’m sure Ambrose wouldn’t mind giving you a few tips as well.”
“Oh, for the love of—he doesn’t need…” I immediately stopped myself.
Just being in this man’s presence made it so easy to fall into the lax man I was around Emiline or Hattie.
I couldn’t let Annabelle hear how improper I really was when no one was looking.
Clearing my throat, I asked, “So, Mr. Washer, how long are you staying in Everdeen? Don’t you have to get back to your job in Port Winchester? ”
He flinched from my reminder that he still owed us an answer. It felt like there was more to the whole appraiser thing, so it was better to make Zeth ruin his own chances with Annabelle. Besides, I was curious if he planned on staying in Everdeen.
“I’m between jobs,” Zeth smoothly quipped a non answer. The way his shoulders tensed was a sure sign he was fibbing. “We moved from the City because Mum just passed.”
“Oh,” Annabelle replied softly, reaching her free hand out to pat Zeth’s shoulder.
My mouth fell open. The news pained me. I knew how much Zeth loved his mother. I recalled eating dinner at the Washer’s shop every now and then growing up. I didn’t realize until later that she had spared her own plate to give to me, something that made me full of remorse.
And now she was gone…
I swallowed hard and watched my line in the water. After a moment, my eyes drifted over at Zeth again, that barb in my heart digging deeper. I wanted to give him a hug right then to comfort him. Instead, I opened my mouth to tell him how sorry I was for his loss.
“I’m—”
“My condolences,” Annabelle cut me off and leaned into him. “I understand how hard loss can be. Both my parents are gone too.”
The way Zeth blinked back tears had me feeling bad for being so frustrated with him, which only made me angry at myself.
When Zeth sniffed and leaned behind Annabelle’s back to raise a challenging eyebrow at me, I met his gaze with confusion.
Was he using his dead mother to gain Annabelle’s sympathy? If so, he really was a dog.
He even made a show of clearing his throat before going on, “We returned half a week ago with plans to sell the laundry. There’s a lot to repair, but I hope to stay in Everdeen once I’m done settling Mum’s estate.
I wish to start a family here.” He paused to dab at a tear.
“If all goes to plan, I’ll open my own auction house. ”
“That’s a fine idea,” Annabelle agreed, receptive to Zeth’s suggestions.
I gripped my fishing pole so hard I thought it might snap. The feeling of wanting to hug him and console him, but also wanting to slap him, confused me more than anything.
When Annabelle’s line tugged tight, she pulled it up and began reeling it in. That’s when Zeth—the bastard—had the gall to smile around her at me so wickedly that I felt I might combust right on the spot.
Breathing in deep, I collected myself. I could fight fire with fire.
I had prospects, a large estate, a family name steeped in Everdeen’s history, while Zeth had half-truths and handsome grins.
I couldn’t let him win. “Well, I suppose there’s decent money to be had in the laundry if you sell it.
” I watched as Annabelle reeled in a fish, and for some reason, the idea of Zeth selling the laundry pained me.
“Do let me know if you need a loan for a new home, Mr. Washer.”
“Oh, how marvelous of you to offer, Ambrose!” Annabelle leaned back as she pulled the line, struggling a bit to reel the fish in.
“I, um, I also am thinking of starting a family in the near future, and hope to court someone soon,” I added spur of the moment, wishing that hadn’t sounded so stupid.
But I’d opened my mouth, might as well finish this.
“Perhaps a strong woman. Smart, sophisticated, one who’s independent and can handle her own—”