Then Came You: A Prequel to The McPhee Clan by Jillian Hart Read Free Book Online

up, you!" Maureen reprimanded. "I've had just about enough of waiting for you. Much more of this, and I'll sell your contract to the highest bidder, hire me a maid who can do her duty. I swear I will."
    "Sorry, ma'am." Maebry tripped down the hall and into the room, where Maureen lay in bed, propped up by pillows. Her limbs gnarled and wasted, she was a skeleton in fine clothes. A scowling skull.
    Sympathy for the dying woman filled her. She set the tray on the bedside table.
    "Don't sorry me," Maureen snapped, struggling to lift her one good arm to point a gnarled finger. "You jump when I say jump, and you bring my tea on time. I own you, girl, you do what I say. Do you understand me?"
    "Yes." She nodded, dutifully. Maureen wasn't wrong and she had the signed contract to prove it.
    Maebry's hand shook as she poured the tea, the steaming, fragrance scenting the room. The fire snapping in the nearby hearth chased away the storm's chill as she stirred in a lump of sugar and held up the cup to Maureen.
    "It's too hot," Maureen barked, screwing up her wrinkled face like a prune. Hard eyes silently rebuked, silently judged.
    "Sorry." Maebry blew on the tea gently, grabbed the spoon and stirred a few times. "There, that looks better."
    "Too cool." Maureen didn't look at the cup. "Heat it up."
    Biting back her frustration, Maebry poured a few inches of tea into the nearby empty wash basin and topped the cup, added a fraction of a sugar cube, stirred and blew. "This feels right."
    "It had better be." Maureen sneered as she held up her weak, gnarled hand for her tea.
    Biting her lip, enduring the threat, Maebry made sure the old lady had a good hold on the cup before she let go. Maureen struggled to lift the cup to her lips. Her hand shook, while the other lay motionless at her side. It was a sad sight, to see her fight so hard, leaning forward toward the cup unsteadily, while tea threatened to slosh over the side and scald her.
    Full of pity, Maebry gently steadied the bottom of the cup, supporting it so Maureen could feel as if she was doing it all herself, when she wasn't. She took a tentative sip, a little swallow and tea drooled down from one corner of her mouth. Maebry wordlessly grabbed a napkin from the tray and dabbed Maureen's lips.
    "Don't you look at me like that." The old lady drew up her lips, sneering. "I don't need your pity, you worthless girl, but believe you me. You're going to need mine. I want the entire upstairs scrubbed clean. Floors, ceilings, walls. Everything. Before you go to bed tonight."
    "Yes, ma'am." She sighed, resigned. She'd given up the right to be upset at the injustice of it long ago. All it took was one thought of Nia happy in Dakota Territory, working as a governess to three little girls. That was worth anything.
    Real love was sacrifice, as she'd learned from her mother, as she was learning from her life. She was glad of her decisions, although they limited her future. As she steadied Maureen's cup while the old woman struggled with another sip, Maebry closed the door to her heart, the one Gil had opened.
    From now on, it had to stay shut.

Chapter Four

     
    Felt like the blizzard was blowing itself out. Gil set down his book, hopped off the straw bale he used for a chair and let himself out of Casey's stall. The gelding snoozed, breathing softly, lost in dreams. Latching the gate quietly so as not to wake his best buddy, Gil's thoughts turned back to Maebry. She hadn't served supper tonight. He'd even checked out the kitchen, but she hadn't been there either.
    Maybe that's a sign
. He sighed, fetched his book and turned down the lantern hanging on a center post, until only darkness remained. On second thought, maybe he shouldn't have kissed her cheek. That had to be the reason why she was avoiding him.
    Why had he done such a rash thing? He blew out a sigh, frowning, ambling down the dark main aisle. She'd pulled away from him. Wasn't that another glaring, unmistakable clue? But no, he'd had to