“Come here.” He held out his hand, and this time she came, clasping her palm tightly around his.
Isaac looked between them, his face almost as white as Victoria’s, then he scooted back his chair. “I, ah, need to head out. Should I lay Toby on the couch?”
“Probably on our bed.” Elijah stood. “I’ll lay Alice down too.”
“Don’t leave on my account.” Victoria sniffled and wiped at her damp eyes. “I’ll be fine in a moment.”
But Isaac was already halfway down the hall.
“Give me a minute, sweetling.” Elijah patted her arm, then followed Isaac into the bedroom.
His brother had already pulled back the covers and positioned Toby in the bed. Elijah laid Alice beside her brother before pulling up the quilt.
“Speaking of pregnant women.” Isaac spoke low as he slipped a hand into his pocket. A moment later he pulled out a letter. “I guess this came in the day before the storm, but Mr. Foley forgot to give it to Victoria when she was in the mercantile yesterday.”
Elijah recognized the prim, elegant handwriting on the sealed envelope, and his heart plummeted. “Beatrice had her baby, didn’t she?”
“Don’t know, I didn’t open it.”
Victoria’s sister had been due at the beginning of November, and his wife had been watching the mail for weeks. Elijah took the envelope, a lump rising in his throat. Did he tell her todayand let her get all her crying over at once? Or did he wait until she’d calmed down and hope she might take the news better?
“Thanks for not giving it to me in front of her.”
“Truth is, I would have forgotten if she hadn’t mentioned that bit about Lindy being pregnant.” Isaac glanced toward the door, as though expecting Victoria to appear and snatch the letter. “I’m sorry, Elijah. Really. Victoria is a fine woman, and I know how much having a babe means to her.”
Elijah fiddled with the corner of the envelope. Maybe he shouldn’t be working quite so hard to find the O’Byrne children’s father. If the man never showed up, then what would prevent him and Victoria from raising the children as their own?
And what was he thinking? He had to find their father, if for no other reason than they couldn’t keep going like this. The longer they had the children, the worse it would be when their father returned. And the last thing his wife needed was more heartbreak.
“Sure I can’t offer you a drink, Sheriff?”
Isaac stiffened at the sound of the smooth, cultured voice, then turned to face the speaker. Though he sat at the back of the room with a clear view of the tables and door, he hadn’t noticed Reed Herod approach from the side. Had that been intentional on Herod’s part? Or was he showing signs of being a poor sheriff after only two weeks?
“About that drink?” The owner of Eagle Harbor’s one and only brothel sat down, then slid a glass of foul smelling amber liquid across the table to him before taking a sip of his own. “You look like a whiskey man.”
“I’m here to work, not drink.”
Herod chuckled. “I don’t think anyone in the place doubts that with the way you’re sitting here glowering.”
“I’m not glowering. I’m watching.”
Raunchy piano music echoed from the other side of the bar. And smiling lumberjacks and miners filled the tables and talked in voices that were too loud, all while leering at the waitresses with low-cut dresses and heaving bosoms who would go upstairs with them for the right price.
Would he get used to it? The rowdiness and lechery that crowded this place? An itching sensation crept over his skin. He’d come from a home where they quoted Bible verses after dinner every night, not where they sang lewd songs. He could only imagine what his pa would have done if they’d gone to dinner and he’d stared down their waitress’s dress—and it wasn’t laugh and jeer and elbow him.
“You didn’t even smile when Star approached earlier.” Herod set his whiskey glass on the table with a thunk.
Was it bad of him to hope a fight broke out so he had a reason to end this conversation? “Yeah, well, I probably don’t get the same amount of enjoyment from ogling your women as the rest of your patrons.”
The brothel owner chuckled. “That tells me you need to take one upstairs. Work out some of the tension you’re always carrying around.”
Isaac’s stomach churned, never mind he hadn’t had a drop of the swill in front of him. “I’m not going upstairs with any of your women.”
“It’s on the house.”
“No.”
Herod’s lips curved into a smile. “Didn’t think so. But a man has to try.”
