Chapter Eight #2
Magnanimously, she offered the tray up to Aidan, giving him the option of the first taste. Reluctantly, he lifted one from the still-warm tray and gave it a sniff. He frowned, but bit into it anyway. Quickly, he turned away from the kitchen and spat the cookie out across the yard.
“Is this supposed to be a joke?” he demanded, wiping his mouth.
“What? No, of course not!” Alexandra protested. She lifted a cookie and took a bite herself. The moment it hit her tongue, her mouth set to burning, her tongue feeling like it was coated in acid. The flavor was absolutely repulsive.
To her mortification, she was forced to spit the bite into her hand.
She lifted it and sniffed deeply. It smelled fine at first, but she took another sniff.
There was something underneath the scent of butter and sugar, something medicinal.
She thought of Danny hovering at the pantry shelf, the brown bottle of liniment standing on it, and how she had seen him there and decided to be charmed.
Lisa beckoned Alexandra over and took an experimental nibble. Her face screwed up, and she, too, spat the cookie out. “How—” she began, and then whipped her head to the children. “What did you do?”
Alexandra followed her gaze. The children’s faces were engaged in a battle of sorts as they tried to look innocent. They blinked at her, wide-eyed, their hands behind their backs.
“We just followed Mrs. Alexandra’s instructions,” Danny said solemnly. Bella reached up and clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle.
Alexandra’s mouth fell open. She looked from the children to Aidan, and back again. She tried to form words, but her mouth was too full of anger and disappointment to say anything coherent.
Aidan’s eyes went to Bella, whose hand was still clapped over her mouth, and then to Danny, and then to the floorboards.
Whatever he found there, he set it down and picked up something easier.
He fixed Alexandra with an exasperated stare.
“Did you really think this was a good idea? We don’t need cookies on this ranch—we need order and discipline. ”
Heat flashed through Alexandra as her temper flared. “Yes, because you’re clearly an expert on both,” she snapped. “After all, things were running in such good order when we arrived.”
Aidan looked taken aback at that. It was short-lived, and his eyes narrowed slightly at Alexandra. “I didn’t bring you here to be argued with. That’s the very last thing I need.”
From the table, Lisa made a small sound, a sort of hum of disbelief. She tilted her head down and looked up at Aidan from beneath her brows as if to say, You absolutely do need to be argued with.
“You—” Alexandra began, ready to return fire. She glanced over and saw the children watching with ill-disguised glee. This was clearly the goal—to set Aidan against her. She snapped her mouth closed with an audible click of her teeth.
She took a deep, shaky breath, attempting to compose herself. She could feel tears in her eyes, and she wouldn’t blink lest they fall; she refused to give them any satisfaction. She lifted her chin, her jaw tight.
“You must be very proud,” she said slowly, enunciating each word crisply. “What father wouldn’t be pleased to see his children follow his example?”
She turned smartly on her heel, intent on storming out. She was somewhat hampered in this by running smack into one of the chairs around the table. She glanced around, hoping that no one had noticed her ruined exit, and flounced out of the house with as much dignity as she could muster.
She walked out past the chickens and goat, close to where the ground began to rise in a sloping hill that sheltered the house and surrounding grounds.
It was only when she was sure that she was out of earshot of the house that she let loose.
Sobs tore out of her, shaking her shoulders.
Nobody had said one word to Danny. Not one.
She had watched a man look straight at the child who had done it and decide it was easier to be angry with her.
She had come two thousand miles, and it had taken three days for the same thing to happen that always happened.
Unable to contain her temper, she kicked at the dirt, the rocks, anything she could put her boot to.
She thrashed and flailed until she felt more like herself.
It wasn’t acceptable for young ladies to give in to strong emotions, especially anger.
If anyone from Philadelphia had seen her acting thus, they’d have thrown her into an asylum, or at least made her a social pariah.
Out here, though, it felt like there was enough space for her feelings.
She stared up at the sky, the sun shining on the top of her head.
She took a deep breath and, feeling secure in her isolation, let out a scream of pure frustration.
Her voice bounced off the hill and echoed back; its ferocity surprised her. She put her fingers to her lips.
“Good thing we don’t have any neighbors,” she muttered. She had a strong suspicion that this wouldn’t be the last time she was driven to distraction.