farther than scorn. At least at first.
“Okay. I wouldn’t mind some pancakes. Let me grab my purse.” She’s already untying her apron.
“I’ll put these in my truck and meet you at the front door.” I grab the handles of the bags.
“Perfect.” She smiles and hurries off.
I haven’t had a meal with a woman outside my own house in years, but Carrie reminds me of Madeline. Sweet and nice—and in sore need of a guiding hand.
But first, pancakes.
It’s going to be a good day.
Nicolette is dusting the bookshelves in the living room when I come inside from watering the animals. Her hair’s pulled up into a short ponytail. She smiles up at me when she catches me staring at her from the doorway.
“Want me to read to you?” she asks, balling up her rag in her left hand. “I just finished in here and have time before I need to start lunch,” she offers.
“Can’t. I have to get out front and help Mark with the fence. That pole is loose again, and Papa wants it fixed today,” I tell her, still not moving from the doorway. Pictures flash in my mind from the night before. Her mouth wrapped around Mark’s dick, sucking him off while I pounded her from behind. When Papa explained what he expected from us, I’d been worried. If jealousy grew in my heart at seeing her touch him, I’d have a lot of problems.
But it didn’t happen. It was just like Papa said it was. Her submission to us and willingness to ask for our forgiveness opened my heart to them both.
“Oh, okay.” She tucks the rag into the front pocket of her apron. It was Mama’s. Everything Nicolette does was once Mama’s job, and now it’s hers. And if what we suspect is true, she’ll have a little girl or boy to teach next. Pride fills me at the thought.
“I just came in for my gloves. The wind is cold today.” I walk past her to the front closet and dig out my work gloves.
“Elijah?” Her soft tone stops me.
“Yeah?” I prompt when she doesn’t continue.
She glances out the front window. Mark is already pacing the porch, waiting on me.
“Papa took you to town last month, right?”
I drop my hand from the door handle. “Yeah. Why?” He let me drive the truck too. It was a good day.
“What does it look like?” There’s a bravery to her words that wasn’t there before. Mark’s been to town a few times already too, but she’s never asked about it. She knows better. Women don’t need to know everything men do. And she has no reason to know about what’s down the mountain. This is her place. Here.
“I don’t know. Like a town, I guess. There are a few stores, a diner, gas station—the same stuff you read about.”
She opens her mouth like she’s going to ask something else, but stops herself.
“Why, you wanna go?” I laugh. The idea is insane. Papa would put her away for a week if she ever suggested going down the mountain. Mama tried to go down there, and he put her down.
Nicolette glances back out the window, staying silent.
“You’d leave us?” I accuse her.
She whips her gaze back to mine with a sharp shake of her head.
“No, Elijah. Never.” She hurries forward, framing my face with her hands. Callouses have formed on the tips of her fingers, but she still smells sweet. Just like a woman should. She shouldn’t smell of leather and sweat like us men.
“You’re my family,” she says with conviction. “And I love you all so much. I would never want to leave you,” she says, but her gaze slips to my nose. “Never,” she whispers. Bringing her mouth to mine, she kisses me tenderly before pulling away and stepping back. “I was just curious is all.” She laughs.
“You know what Papa says about that,” I point out, stuffing my hands into my work gloves.
“Yes, Elijah. I know. Curiosity killed the cat and will surely kill me too,” she repeats. She tries so hard for me, I can’t be irritated with her.
I smile. “That’s right. What else do you need to finish before lunch?” I ask, turning the handle on the front door.
“I need to get the compost bucket I left outside yesterday. Papa told me this morning he wants potato soup for lunch, so I’ll start that when I get back in.”
“Better get going.” I lean down and kiss her forehead. She picks up the dirty rags on the