Chapter Eighteen #2
Aidan knelt to scoop up the scattered peas, dropping them back into the bowl. Lisa took a deep breath, her hand pressed to her side. Aidan, balanced on one knee, held the refilled bowl back up to her, and she accepted it, holding it on her lap. Her face was pale and her breathing ragged.
She swallowed hard, eyeing Aidan. “It’s nice to know I can still get a man down on one knee at my age,” she managed to say.
Aidan looked down at himself, his posture just registering. He did indeed look like a suitor proposing to his lady. A grin tugged at his mouth. “What can I say?” he said. “My pa always said to choose a woman that gives you peas.” He paused. “Or maybe it was peace.”
Lisa chuckled again, which set off another round of dry coughs. This spell subsided quickly, and Lisa regarded him sidelong. “I’ve never heard you make a joke before.”
Aidan, still kneeling on the porch, rocked back and forth slightly for a moment. Truth be told, he couldn’t believe that he’d spoken in such a way, either; the world had been bleak and hard ever since his brother vanished, and his humor had dried right up.
“Believe it or not, I used to be the funny one,” he admitted at last. “Or at least, I thought I was the funny one.”
Lisa arched a brow at him.
“What?” he said defensively.
She shrugged in the same way that Alexandra did, both shoulders rising and falling so quickly it was easy to miss. “You’ll forgive me for saying that it’s hard to imagine that, given what a sourpuss you are now.”
“I’m not—” Aidan started to object. Lisa tilted her chin down, gazing at him balefully. “Well,” he mumbled, shifting slightly. “Maybe I have been a bit…” He paused, searching for the right word.
“Cantankerous?” Lisa supplied helpfully. “Pleasant as a saddle sore? Pricklier than a cactus?”
“Yes, thank you,” Aidan said, shooting her a dark look. He started to rise, but Lisa waylaid him with a hand on his shoulder.
“Oh, go on and sit a spell,” she said. “Alexandra’s out with the children gathering firewood, so we’ve got a real chance for some quiet just now. Besides, you look like a young man in need of confession.”
Aidan hesitated, then pivoted to sitting with his back against the wall of the house and his legs stretched out in front of him across the porch. He fanned himself slowly with his hat.
“I suppose I’m just wondering if I’m doing right by the children,” he said slowly.
“I agreed to keep them because it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.” He paused, then sighed.
“No, that’s not right—I kept them because I thought it was what Brendan would have wanted.
There are times when I wonder…” He trailed off.
“That’s only natural,” Lisa said. “You had parenthood dropped on you without the chance to get used to the idea, like most folks have. Goodness knows I wasn’t prepared when Alexandra came to live with me.”
Aidan turned to look up at her curiously. He knew little about their past; he’d never thought to inquire, and that made a blush creep up his neck.
“Oh yes,” Lisa said, nodding at him. “Y’see, I’d had my share of beaus in my day, but truthfully, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever seen myself settling down. I suppose I valued my independence too much.”
“I suppose I just can’t see beyond right now.”
“Well, of course not,” Lisa said gently, snapping another pea. “It’s still very immediate, and none of you know how to behave with one another.”
Aidan dropped his hat on the porch, running his fingers through his hair again. “You don’t… suppose I’m doing wrong by the children, do you? I just wouldn’t want my brother to be disappointed in me.”
“No, I don’t think you’re doing wrong, at least not intentionally,” Lisa reassured him.
“I just don’t know what to do with them,” Aidan confessed.
“You took Danny with you today,” Lisa reminded him. “That’s a good start.”
“I suppose,” Aidan allowed.
Lisa stopped shelling the peas long enough to pat him reassuringly on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine. You’re just hurting, that’s all. Alexandra was the same way when—” Lisa abruptly stopped, then withdrew her hand.
Forgetting all about his own troubles, Aidan looked up at Lisa again, curiosity piqued. “When?” he prompted.
Lisa hesitated, then gave another of her quick little shrugs. “Oh, it’s nothing terribly exciting,” she said with forced casualness. “Just disappointed in love is all.”
This was brand new information to Aidan; he’d never considered that someone else might have once set his sights on Alexandra.
“She had a suitor?” he asked, the question forming a strange knot in his stomach.
“It was years ago now,” Lisa said, attempting to placate him.
Unable to help himself, Aidan asked, “What happened?”
Lisa pursed her lips. “Look here, you gossipy old hen, nothing that exciting, I can promise you that. She just learned not to trust a handsome man in a uniform is all.”
Across the yard, Antony rode, leading a string of horses, on his way to deliver them to a cattle ranch on the other side of town. He spotted Lisa and Aidan on the porch and raised his hat in greeting. Lisa raised her own hand in response.
He checked the string long enough to call across and ask how she was keeping. Lisa told him she was perfectly well. He didn’t look satisfied, and rode on, and Lisa watched the horses out of sight before she went back to her peas.
Aidan glanced slyly up at Lisa. “I suppose I should tell Antony to keep his old Union blues in his cedar chest then, mm?”
Lisa gave him a withering look with no real heat behind it. Aidan smiled up at her, which made her laugh, and the laugh set off the cough again.
All teasing left Aidan as he rose back up on his knees to put a steadying hand on her back. He peered closely at her. She was still pale, and her cough had a barking quality he didn’t like.
“Tell me truthfully,” he said, his hand still on her back, “are you well?”
He could feel her stiffen, and knew she was about to wave him off as she always did.
“Be honest,” he insisted. “I know that Alexandra relies on you.”
Lisa sighed, giving a final cough. “It’s the elevation,” she said.
“We came west for the dry air, and I got a mountain into the bargain, which I expect isn’t doing me any favors.
” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “I had pleurisy during the war, and my lungs have been more touchy than a duchess at a cotillion ever since. If I could get some raisins, I could make a syrup that I enjoy.” Almost as if she wasn’t aware of the action, she reached up and pressed a hand against her side.
“I have to be careful about catching a cold. It goes to my chest, and it stays there.” She said it lightly.
Aidan noticed she didn’t look at him as she said it.
Aidan nodded, his face troubled. “I’ll see if I can find some in town. Will that help your cough?”
Lisa smiled through another cough from behind her handkerchief. “I said I enjoyed it, not that it would cure me.” When Aidan continued to gaze at her, she patted his shoulder. “Yes, it will help.”
Aidan filed this information away. Virginia City might not boast as many doctors as Philadelphia. Still, he was reasonably confident he would get a tolerable plaster at the pharmacy that would help her.
From around the corner of the house, Aidan caught sight of Alexandra. She was leading Gary and Bella, who were helping her to carry a canvas bag full of sticks.
He rose to his feet and replaced his hat. He shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Well,” he said. “Got chores to tend to.” He fled the porch before Alexandra made an appearance—he had no wish to fight with her again.
Even so, he couldn’t stop himself from looking back to see if she noticed him.
He shook his head hard, nearly dislodging his hat in the process.
You’ve got more important things to be worrying about, he scolded himself.
Buying plasters and hoping that Alexandra will approve is just about the last thing you should be fretting about.
For all of his determination to not get caught up in Alexandra, there was no helping one last backward look to the porch. She was there, staring after him, and she didn’t look away when he caught her at it. Quickly, he whipped his head back around. You can’t keep dividing your attention like this.
That was true. He glanced to the gate that marked the entry to the ranch, as he did several times a day now. He lived in perpetual fear that one of these times, he’d see a familiar man in black standing there.