His Secondhand Wife. Cheryl St.John

two men appeared in the doorway.

      “One more thing. Please remove the lid from my son’s casket.”

      They moved into the room and Kate took a step back.

      One man stood on each end and they lifted off the wood and set it against the wall behind the sawhorses. With heads lowered respectfully, the men gazed upon the body.

      “That will be all.” Estelle waited until they’d left the room before she moved to stand beside the coffin. She trembled and raised a handkerchief to her eyes, sobbing out loud.

      Kate’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t want to look at Levi, but couldn’t help herself. She gazed upon his handsome profile, noticed the way his hair was combed uncharacteristically away from his forehead.

      “He was a beautiful baby,” Estelle cried. “A beautiful golden-haired child and the most handsome man. Isn’t he handsome?”

      Kate nodded. Levi had been handsome, no question about it. Even his smile stole a woman’s breath.

      Estelle blotted her eyes and asked, “Who dressed him?”

      Kate peered at the dark suit Levi wore. She’d never seen it before.

      “I did.” Noah spoke from behind them.

      Startled, Kate turned. For the first time she saw him without a hat. His chin-length hair hung over the side of his face and combined with his beard to hide his features.

      The older woman turned and glared at her stepson. “You might have covered the sawhorses and brought in flowers. Is this the best you could do for a coffin for your only brother?”

      Noah stared back at her. “Pretty ’im up, huh? Wouldn’t change anything, would it?”

      Despite the beard, Kate noted that his mouth turned up with an odd sort of grimace at the corner and that that side didn’t move when he spoke. Perhaps that was the reason his speech sounded unusual.

      “I might have known you wouldn’t show him any respect.”

      “I loved him—I don’t respect what he did.”

      Estelle cast him a censoring frown. “Are you going to speak of it in front of her?”

      “She knows. Asked what happened and I told her.”

      “You might have spared her.”

      “Spared you, you mean.”

      “You’re a dreadful man.”

      Shocked, Kate spoke up. “I made Noah tell me. I wanted the truth. He’s been nothing but kind and considerate of my feelings and my well-being. You have no call to be angry with him, I assure you.”

      “You poor girl,” Estelle said, moving to drape her arm around Kate’s shoulders. “What a burden you’ve been given. First Levi’s untimely death and then exposure to this heathen. You’ll come home with me after the funeral tomorrow. I have room for you, and you won’t have to stay here another minute longer than necessary.”

      “That’s very kind of you. But I think this arrangement is going to work out just fine. I’d rather not live in town. Noah has my best interests at heart, I’m convinced.”

      “Don’t be foolish, dear. You’re understandably upset and you’re not thinking clearly. You’ll be better off with me—another woman. You’ll be closer to the doctor and the stores and there are many social activities to help pass your days. I know firsthand what a dreadful bore it is being out here on this godforsaken ranch day after day.”

      Kate experienced a twinge of anger at the woman for supposing to know what she wanted and deciding what was best for her without bothering to ask. She didn’t want to offend Levi’s mother, but neither did she want to have her choices made for her.

      Her resistance seemed laughable, really, if she thought about it, because Noah had insisted she come with him, as well. But she’d wanted to accompany him. She did not want to leave with Estelle. “I’ll remember your kind invitation if I should ever change my mind.”

      Estelle turned to glare at Noah. “That’s my son’s baby. You won’t keep him from me.”

      Noah had turned to leave, but paused in the doorway. “No, that’s Katherine’s baby. The choices are hers.”

      He left and the two women exchanged a glance. Kate felt a surge of satisfaction because Noah had stood up to the woman on her account.

      The sound of a horse and buggy prevented any further discussion as the first guests of the day arrived to pay their respects. Levi had been the son of a town founder, part owner of the Rockin’ C, and townsfolk and neighboring ranchers trailed through for hours. As dusk settled, the string of visitors finally ended.

      “Wasn’t it odd that Noah didn’t attend all day?” Kate asked Estelle. She had met dozens of curious strangers, some she sensed were only there to look around, but Noah had kept his distance.

      “The man’s not fit for society and he knows his place,” she replied.

      “What do you mean?”

      “Even his own father couldn’t bear the sight of him.”

      “You make it sound as though Noah is some kind of monster.”

      “Indeed.”

      “I’ve noticed his speech is odd. What I can see of his mouth looks somewhat…different.”

      “Hideous, you mean. As is his entire face.”

      “What’s wrong with it?”

      “An accident scarred him. Don’t make me talk about him—it’s too unpleasant. We’ve plenty of dishes to choose from for our supper. It’s so kind of the ladies to bring gifts of sympathy. Let’s set the kitchen table and dine now, shall we?” She opened a cupboard. “Not a decent piece of china in the entire house.” After looking over the items to choose from, Estelle selected two chipped plates and arranged place settings.

      “What about Noah? You’ve only set places for two.”

      “He won’t join us. He eats alone.”

      “He ate with me last night.”

      Estelle gave her a surprised glance.

      Noah entered the house at that moment, his hat low over his forehead.

      “Will you be sharing our meal?” Kate asked hopefully.

      He glanced at Estelle, then at the two plates on the table. “No.”

      “Please?”

      Kate’s soft plea stopped him in his tracks. He turned to eye her.

      “Please join us,” she said again.

      Ignoring Estelle’s scowl, he took off the hat and hung it beside the door, then turned back and seated himself at the far end of the table.

      Quickly, Kate got another plate and more silverware and set it in front of him. Moving close to do so, she noted the back of his right hand, dark from the sun, but ridged with a jagged pale scar. What kind of accident had scarred his hands and his face? A fall from a horse? They weren’t burns.

      “Mrs. Krenshaw brought buttermilk,” she said cheerfully. “Do you like buttermilk?”

      He nodded without looking at her, and she poured a Mason jar full to set in front of him.

      After taking the warmed casseroles and dishes from the oven, she served Noah and then she and Estelle seated themselves.

      “Katherine will need appropriate clothing,” Estelle said brusquely. “Black for mourning and material adequate for the coming months. I will take her to Annie Carpenter’s place. Annie still sews for a select few women, and she’s the best seamstress in a hundred miles.” To Kate, she added, “Comes