Yet he found his feet moving. Tessa forgotten, and Andy at his side. Then he was in Father's room and Thomas laid a hand on his shoulder. Well, he was not alone in his sorrow or his loss.
Together, they would face this. As brothers.
'Jonah.' Father held out his hand at the first sound of a step inside the threshold.
If only he could hold back time, change the past, make himself into the man Father wanted. Jonah approached the bed, each step the hardest he'd ever taken.
'Father. I am here.' He wrapped his hands tightly around the old man's, powerless to change fate, helpless against the consequences of his own long-ago decisions. 'I never should have left you.'
'You left home to make me proud,' Father whispered, tears bright in his eyes. 'And you do me proud now that you are home. Whatever happens, do not forget how very much I love my boys.'
Chapter Six
' 'Tis morning, and still you haven't slept.' Thomas strode into the room.
Jonah turned from the fire, the stick of wood in his hand, the fire popping and crackling. 'And I will not sleep until the doctor says 'tis over, either way.'
Together, their gazes landed on the frail old man on the bed, washed and dry and swaddled with blankets, sleeping while Tessa stacked clean towels on the night table.
'There is naught we can do but wait,' Thomas said. He meant to be comforting.
Jonah shrugged. Weariness rolled over him like an ocean wave. 'I'm not so good at waiting.'
'That makes two of us. Come and sample the cooking.'
'Who's cooking?'
'Oh, the dozen or so marriageable females who all miraculously brought by breads and puddings and even cakes to help you in this time of difficulty.' Thomas' eyes flashed with small humor. 'A smart maiden never misses an opportunity to display her cooking talents to a prospective bridegroom.'
'Don't remind me of my duty,' Jonah growled, more tired than irritated. He took one long last look at Father, so lifeless, struggling so hard to hold on. 'I should not leave him.'
'Maybe he's expiring from the sight of that ugly face of yours, brother.' Thomas' hand cupped his shoulder. 'Come, have some coffee and eat. No doubt we'll all need our energy, either way it goes.'
'I'll stay with him whilst you break your fast.' Tessa looked up from her work changing the poultice on Father's chest. So dark those eyes, steady and deep. 'I will call you if there is any change.'
Thomas nodded, careful to keep his distance from her. 'We're much obliged for all you've done, Mistress Tessa.'
'You need not thank me.' She turned, jaw set.
'You have run out of excuses, brother.' Thomas' hand on the back of his shoulder guided him toward the door. 'We will not be gone long, and 'twill give Father a respite from your dreadful presence.'
'And yours, brother.' Guilt and regret slowed Jonah's step as he followed his brother from the room. Aye, how his conscience troubled him. 'I swore to marry before he died.'
'What should you do?' Thomas answered ahead on the stairs. 'Pick any girl and marry her the very day you return to town?'
'There lies my problem. I can't simply pick a girl. They look like children to me.' His voice echoed in the empty and cold parlor as he followed his brother to the kitchen beyond. 'I cannot marry a woman half my age.'
'That's one of the difficulties of being thirty.' Thomas grabbed a taper and lit it from the single candle burning in the table's center. 'By that age, all the women are married or so ugly no one will have them.'
'You're speaking of Tessa Bradford,' he guessed. 'Hell, what happened to this kitchen?'
'Women,' Thomas muttered, shaking his head.
Women? The devil's teeth! It looked like a pack of bakers had descended on the house. 'Father is dying. He doesn't need a final buffet.'
'Final buffet. Last supper.' Thomas shrugged. 'Look, Andy has already helped himself. He's devoured half the cinnamon cake.'
'I'm in deep trouble, brother, and you worry over missing pastry?' Jonah grabbed a cup and crossed the room. 'I am to wed. I have little faith in marriage.'
'Pray, don't say that too loudly. You are like to offend all the young ladies who made these treats and they will have you thrown in the stocks for a day.' Thomas, even weary and grief-stricken, managed another joke.
'I cannot marry a mere girl.' He gestured to the plate-laden table. Crocks, platters, rows of cakes and delicious treats crammed nearly every available inch. 'They do not even know me. These efforts of theirs are far from sincere.'
'You want sincerity? Then do not look for it in any woman.' Thomas considered that. 'Well, maybe a few women. But a damned few.'
'Aye.' Jonah knew they were both remembering their stepmother. 'That woman made Father's life hell and took pleasure in it. I refuse to marry anyone even half as selfish.'
'Or eager for your money.' Thomas' telling gaze met his.
So, they shared the same worries. Jonah understood. 'I have given my word. I must marry. There must be a son who will inherit this land.'
'So, who will you choose?'
Jonah filled two cups with coffee, thinking. 'If Father survives this illness, he will be infirm. Then I'll need a female willing to care for him as well as to manage the household. I shall not have a lazy wife sitting about, shouting at the servants.'
'Our servants work the land and would not agree to clean house,' Thomas added.
'True.' Jonah set one cup before his brother and pulled a chair up to the board. 'She must be kind. I don't want a cruel woman raising my son.'
Again, he thought of his stepmother. Aye, the viciousness of that one. All of them bore scars in one way or another. Fear beat within his chest like a caged bird. What kind of woman could he tolerate for a wife?
'Most important, she must be a female I can see myself bedding, not a child half my age. If only we knew if Father was to recover for certain, I could take my time. Maybe travel to Boston and find someone appropriate.'
'I don't envy you.' Thomas sipped the steaming brew. 'For once I'm glad I am not the eldest brother. Father is weak and we do not have much time.'
'Aye. I do not need reminding.' Jonah rubbed his face with both hands as if he could rub away the weariness, too. 'I have been thinking a lot about the word. Duty. What it means. And what I must do.'
'I have been pondering it as well.' Thomas stepped away to choose a cheese tart from the offering on the table. His steps knelled heavily on the wood floor. 'We all have left home following our own paths. Now, Father's illness has brought us back. To change. To carry on what he's worked hard for all his life.'
'The land,' Jonah sighed. 'Family.'
Aye, duty was a tough word. It required self-sacrifice, doing the right thing rather than making his own choices. And damn it, Jonah was a man used to forging his own path, facing challenges, and commanding men.
But that was a different duty, one that required only muscle and brain. It did not require heart.
'How will you choose your bride?' Thomas asked now.
'I have no idea, but I know this.' Jonah remembered Father's face, pale and shrunken now that the frightening fever had broken. He was improving, but for how long? 'I must make a decision.'
'Today would not be fast enough.' Thomas' hand landed on Jonah's shoulder.
His brother's understanding felt good, made him more brave. 'How do I know the woman I select will make an unselfish wife and a kind mother, especially if I can't spend any time getting to know her?'
'There must be a way,' Thomas murmured, sounding as perplexed as Jonah felt.
