The Edge of Misery: The Mitchel Brothers Series Book Two

4

Mae grinned and nodded. "Oh, at least."

Declan scowled at his brother, knowing full well they were referring to his remarks about how much time their mama and Uncle Emerson needed to freshen up following their wedding ceremony seven months ago.

Now it had become a running joke among the three of them, often at his expense, anytime Wolstan and Mae wanted to step away for one reason or another—be it innocent or not.

"If you're not out in thirty minutes, Wooly," Declan said, adjusting his hat over his face to shield it from the sun's glare, "I'm coming in and dragging you out."

"Not if I bar the door, you aren't."

"Try it and see what happens."

"Maybe I will, just to—"

"Boys," Emmaline scolded. "Wooly, take your wife to bed—"

"Don't have to tell me twice, Mama," Wolstan grinned, scooping Mae into his arms and marching away with a purposeful, long-legged stride.

"And Declan," Emmaline continued, pausing until he rose onto his elbow and looked her in the eye.

"Yes, Mama?"

"Your brother will join you once he's assured Mae is resting comfortably and not a moment sooner. So should you feel the urge to look for him, I advise you to do so quietly as though a ferocious beast slumbered inside that cabin. Understood?"

Declan bit back a grin but glanced at Emerson and a smiling Nessie and couldn't help but point out, "Mama, do you realize you've just compared Mae to an untamed animal?"

Emmaline shrugged, "Considering what I've come to learn about her since she's lived with us and how she handled Cyrus, it's an apt description." Then, she turned to Emerson, "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Without a doubt, Linney," he chuckled. "Mae's someone I want to keep on my good side."

"Cyrus?" Nessie asked. "Surely not Cyrus Buchanan?"

"The worst neighbor we ever had," Declan muttered as Emmaline nodded and replied, "The very same. He was also Mae's horrible uncle."

Emerson chuckled, adding with a nod, "Thankfully, he's dead now—an unexpected wedding present."

Nessie blinked, "Oh my... will wonders never cease?"

"Duke'll be pleased to hear of his passing as well," Emerson smiled.

"Fine, I'll be quiet if Wooly isn't out here in thirty minutes," Declan grumbled, lying down. "But I'm doing it out of respect—not because I'm treating her like some ferocious beast; she doesn't frighten me."

"What's happenin' in thirty minutes?" Wren asked as she came to stand over Declan and fed Luella one of three dried trout fillets she held in her right hand. "What'd I miss?"

Declan stared at Wren as his mama's words tumbled in his brain. If ever a woman existed that terrified him and deserved the warning for him to approach with the utmost caution, he was looking at her.

"Nothing important," he mumbled, settling his hat over his face to block out both her and the sunlight.

Once Wren finished feeding Luella and rejoined the others, Declan snuck a peek from beneath his hat and repositioned it on his face to afford him a covert view of her, somewhat surprised when his ever-faithful bloodhound—who'd never once left his side for attention from another person—cast one cautious glance at Declan as she crept over to Wren, sat beside her, and leaned into her until Wren began scratching Luella behind the ears.

Declan bit back a grin and shook his head at his dog's little ploy for affection that he'd only ever seen her use on him and would have whistled Luella back to his side in the next few moments—if not for the sunlight glinting through a succession of droplets falling from Wren's chin before she sniffled and wiped them away when she turned from everyone gathered on the quilts.