The Heirloom Brides Collection Read Online Free

believe in God; she just wasn’t so sure He was very nice. If she had all that power, she wouldn’t govern humans at her whim. This one dies, that one lives. What right had He to play with people’s lives that way? She knew she ought to be more careful with her thoughts. Usually when she thought about her parents dying when she still needed them and anger against God burned fierce and sharp in her chest, she said a hasty prayer of repentance and tried to be sincere. But right now, she couldn’t drum up even the slightest bit of remorse toward the Almighty.
    “So tell me, why do folks in Tucker’s Creek call your grandfather Old Joe?”
    Betsy shrugged. “Because he’s old and his name is Joe.”
    Mrs. Avery smiled. “That’s it? What did they call him when he was young? I hear he was one of three men who founded Tucker’s Creek way back fifty years ago.”
    Betsy knew the doc’s wife was just trying to get her mind off the accident, but she wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Still, given this woman’s kindness, she didn’t want to be rude. “My pa was named after Pops, so when he started at the school, everyone called him Joe-Joe and Pops became Old Joe.”
    She lifted her cup to her lips. By the time she set it back on the table, she heard footsteps and shoved up from her chair. Stuart stood in the doorway, face white and visibly shaken.
    “Is he dead?”
    He shook his head, and Betsy’s legs went weak with relief. She grabbed on to the back of her chair to keep from dropping to the floor. “You look like he is.”
    “No, I’m sorry. Just… I never was one for this kind of thing.”
    “Come and sit down, Stuart,” Mrs. Avery said with the gentleness of a mother. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
    Stuart gave her a wry grin. “Thanks for not saying
faint
.” He practically stumbled to the chair and sat hard in the seat. Without asking, Mrs. Avery poured him some coffee. Betsy rolled her eyes. What would Pops think about a man who practically fainted at the sight of blood?
    The doctor’s wife patted him on the shoulder. “Buck up, and tell us about Mr. Lowell. How is he?”
    Betsy broke in before he could say anything. “Can I go see him?”
    Stuart shook his head. “Doc said to tell you to stay put while they’re setting his bones.”
    With a heavy sigh, Betsy sat back down. “I could’ve helped since you clearly faint at the sight of blood.”
    A flash of anger brought back Stuart’s color. “I don’t—”
    Mrs. Avery clicked her tongue. “There’s no point in throwing stones, you two.” She patted Stuart again. “Are you hungry? I have some venison stew warming on the stove.”
    “Thank you, ma’am, but I best get back over to the store. This kind of weather brings folks out for supplies, and Ma’s going to need my help.”
    “Well, we’re mighty glad you were there to help out with Old Joe, aren’t we, Betsy?”
    Betsy nodded and sipped her own coffee to avoid having to say something.
    He stood. “Thank you for the coffee, ma’am.”
    “You’re welcome.” Mrs. Avery stood as well, grabbing his cup from the table. She walked to the sink to rinse it out. “Betsy, honey, can you walk Stuart out? I need to stir this stew before it scorches.”
    There was no way to avoid doing the polite thing. “Yes, ma’am.” With a sigh, Betsy followed him into the foyer as he retrieved his coat and hat from the peg board by the door.
    Awkward silence filled the space between them as he stood there, his hand on the doorknob, looking down at her. “Betsy, I’m sorry about your grandfather.”
    Fighting back tears, Betsy nodded. Mrs. Avery was right. Stuart had been a godsend. “Thank you for your help. I—I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
    “Unfortunately, I’ve never been much help in these sorts of situations.” He released a heavy breath and jammed his hat on his head. “I wish I could have done more.”
    “You were there when we needed you.”