Free The Wrong Brother's Bride by Allison Merritt Page A

time.”
    “You mean on purpose. Tell me how I arranged it so the mower rolled over him?” He kept his voice low, aware anyone standing close could hear.
    She looked affronted. “I never said any such thing, although I imagine you were pleased to learn he left you a farm and a woman in the family way.”
    “Enough, Maud. Loyal isn’t here to defend herself and I won’t let you talk about her that way.” His hands were balled into fists at his side. Instead of anger, an ache grew around his heart. “At least she’s trying to provide for her child.”
    They had a crowd now. About two dozen people watched him stand up to Maud.
    She flushed, but he didn’t think embarrassment caused the color. “She’s a woman of loose morals,” Maud announced. “We don’t need her kind or yours around here.”
    It was never about Loyal, although she’d brought down shame on her father’s church. Maud was striking out at him personally. He’d forgotten that before she’d become a preacher’s wife, she’d had a wild streak of her own. Despite her best efforts, he’d never had an interest in her. He supposed this was her revenge for the day he’d rebuffed her before a gaggle of girls. “Your husband married us, but you know damn well she’d have married Jeremiah and set things right. We never saw eye-to-eye. That’s no call to insult my wife.”
    “Your wife is a scarlet woman,” Maud shot back.
    “They throw out the rule about casting stones in Irwin’s church?” He jabbed a finger at her, maintaining his distance in case someone mistook him for threatening. “You were her friend. She thought she could trust you. Guess you got hoity-toity since moving to the city. Those country folk aren’t worth your sympathy.”
    “Your wife’s a whore and you were always a no-good drunken Irishman’s son.” Maud dropped her parcel and the little purse hanging from her wrist. The contents scattered across the walkway.
    On reflex, he started forward to grab the fallen items then froze as she screeched.
    “Don’t you touch me!”
    “Did he hit her?” someone murmured.
    August faced the spectator. “I didn’t.”
    “August O’Dell.” The crowd parted as the sheriff stepped forward. “It’s been a few years since we saw you around here. I didn’t think you’d come back.”
    The badge pinned to Eugene Fowler’s overcoat gleamed in the midday light. August had a long history with the lawman. Neither of them were likely to forget the offenses, which included public drunkenness, fighting, petty theft, and resisting arrest. He’d probably spent more time growing up in the county jail than his father’s house.
    “Sheriff.” He relaxed his hands, letting them hang at his sides. Like everyone else, Fowler must know damn good and well why he was here. “Family business brought me back.”
    “There a problem, Mrs. Bowman?” Fowler’s gaze slid over the woman and back to August.
    Maud straightened the little hat pinned to her dark brown hair. “Mr. O’Dell accosted me.”
    Fowler’s eyes went steely. “That true, O’Dell?”
    “Hell, no. We were talking. She said some impolite things about my wife, but I didn’t touch her.” He backed up a step, knowing Fowler wouldn’t hesitate to blame him. “People change, sheriff.”
    “Anyone see O’Dell touch Mrs. Bowman? Give her a push, grab her arm?” Fowler studied the contents of Maud’s pocketbook on the ground.
    A murmur went through the crowd. Someone cleared his throat. “He lunged at her. Couldn’t say whether he hurt her.”
    Cold sweat broke out on August’s brow. He held his hands up. “She dropped those things. I tried to help her pick them up. There’s no call for speculation, Fowler.”
    “Except you’ve been known to cause trouble around here on a whim.”
    What Fowler didn’t say was you’re your father’s son. It had passed through his lips on more than one occasion.
    August swallowed hard, aware that there were people in the crowd who