CHAPTER 35 — FIFTY

Fiona’s heart seemed to pick up speed with every step the horses took to bring her closer to Raymond. She buried her hands between her knees and fixed her eyes on the dirt road, determined not to appear as anxious as she actually felt.

Perhaps it was Raymond’s unavailability that made him even more desirable. Perhaps it was the fact that she had never been denied anything in life since her husband died. Perhaps she was simply intrigued by the kiss they shared.

Fiona didn’t know what drew her to Raymond, but she knew she was drawn to him and she wasn’t about to deny herself the pleasure of being with him.

She swept the air with her hands as her eyes caught sight of the broken-down building from afar off. “Turn left.”

She had only been to the farm once and hadn’t spent more than an hour visiting. The state of the building and Raymond’s absence had made it impossible for her to desire staying longer.

“That’s odd,” the man beside her murmured. She didn’t offer him a sideways glance, tiring of his company. He was one of those men whose attraction to her only helped to heighten her desire to distance herself from them. She didn’t want to be desired by a man, she wanted to desire one. She wanted it to be her choice, not his, and Raymond was her choice.

“Here.” Excitement coursed through her as the wagon approached the farm.

The sound of the rustling paper fought to gain her attention. She turned slightly, her eyes settling on the man for the first time since she climbed onto the wagon. A map laid across his lap, his eyes moving swiftly from the map to the farm and back again.

“This is Pa’s property!” He turned frantic eyes to her, three angry lines running across his forehead.

Fiona felt her eyelids widen, as the implications of the man’s words sank into her. She was pulled out of her state of shock the second she noticed him scrambling to climb down the wagon.

“Wait!” She reached out and clutched his arm.

He jerked his arm from her, turning to glare at her with furious eyes and clenched teeth. “No way I’m letting a thief take what’s mine!”

“No, of course not!” She struggled to speak beyond those words, but found it impossible to coordinate her thoughts. Letting out three rapid breaths, she mentally scolded her heart to stop beating so fast. “How much?” the words flew out of her lips before she could fully grasp their meaning.

“What?!”

“The…” She pulled in another breath and let it out slowly, turning to the farm once more. The piece of property laid nearly bare but for a few crops sprawled across the land. “This,” gesturing to the land, “how much?!” She tore her eyes off of the land and back to him.

“It is—”

“Fifty…”

“There is no way on God’s green earth I’m selling this incredible piece of land for fifty dollars!”

Fiona scoffed, a smile spreading across her lips. “Thousand.” It wasn’t worth half the price, and from the way the man’s lips hung open, she knew he thought the same thing.

“Sold!” His declaration broadened her smile.

“Take me back to the boarding house, will you?” Her eyes shifted back to the barren farm. “I already have what I came here for.”

The farm wasn’t worth that amount of money, but Raymond was.

***

The warm water against her skin helped to open every pore and loosen her tense muscles. She leaned further down the bath and allowed her eyelids snap shut, as she reveled in a long-awaited bath.

With Raymond having a conversation with his children, she could give her body a break from hard work.

She soaked in the bath for half an hour until every soot and mud was completely off of her skin and floating around in the soapy water. Then, she climbed out of the bath, wrapped a towel around herself and another around her wet hair. Settling on a chair by the fireplace, she sat waiting to dry off as she brushed her wet, tangled hair. It was a few minutes of brushing her hair before the door pushed open and Raymond appeared, his sleeves rolled up to his elbow and exposing crusted mud that clung to his arms, clothes and boots. Tired sacks laid underneath his eyes.

“Do you want me to make you a bath?” She pulled at the tangled strings of her hair, frustrated.

He shook his head and turned to close the door, before turning back around and covering the distance between them, heavy boot sounds accompanying every step.

“Do you need help?” He retrieved the brush from her hands before she could respond.

She sat with her back to him, hoping he wasn’t leaving mud in her hair, as he expertly untangled every strand. The brush worked easily through her hair one last time before he placed it in her lap.

“How did it go?” She reached up and began threading her finger through her wet hair, pulling it into a braid.

“Well.” The sound of his heavy boots contacting the wooden floors told her he was walking away. She turned around to find him settling on the bed. “I’m a terrible father,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

She slipped a pin into her hair, deciding she had done her best with the braid. Rising to her feet, she walked over to where he sat and planted herself beside him.

“I don’t know how to fix it,” he turned to her, despair dimming his eyes.

Leaning forward, her hand settled on his cheek. “You can begin by being a good father, being here…”

“The children…” He breathed loudly, turning away from her and looking outside the window. “Their mother’s death might have been bad, but taking her memory away from them was worse,” he whispered softly, pain lacing every word.

Silence hung between them that evening. Raymond slipped out of his work clothes and settled into bed beside her, his back to her and his head turned towards the open window. She watched his tense back, fighting the urge to place her hand against his shoulder and murmur words of comfort to him.

She left him to his thoughts. Turning from him, she stared at the white wall. A soft yawn escaped her lips, the arms of tiredness tugging at her eyelids until they snapped shut and she gave into the darkness.

A soft breeze blew against her face, forcing her eyelids open. Mustering the energy to rise, she turned to find Raymond’s side of the bed empty. She climbed out of bed, feet settling on the cold wooden floors as she glanced briefly out of the window and found that the sun was appearing in the sky, leaving streaks of red and orange in its wake.

Hurriedly, she found a simple blue dress to wear, pulled her hair into a bun and slipped her shoes on. She pulled open the door and made her way through the dark hallway and down the creaking stairs. She reached the foot of the stairs, the heat emanating from the hearth in the living room washing over her. She crossed the room to the kitchen, the sight of an unfamiliar bucket that sat on the sink, drawing her attention. She reached for it, tipping it slightly until she was staring into it...

Apples.