Page 64 of If The Fates Allow
“That is a fine man you have, Willa,” Bonnie whispered. “A very fine man.”
“I don’t think we could have dreamed up anyone better for you,” her mother agreed, positively riveted by Noah’s partially naked form. “I hope you’re prepared to pay attention and participate in the bedroom.”
Bonnie chuckled heartily. “I don’t think our Willa will have a problem participating with the likes of him, Margaret. She’ll be pregnant before the spring. Mark my words.”
“This is not the time or the place to be conversing of such things,” Willa scolded, arching on her toes as the men reached the graveyard. It was hard to see past the wrought iron fencing, and she didn’t want Noah out of her sight for even a moment. “And how do you plan to explain all of this to the staff? They must have heard you leave and the gunshots. Father’s disappearance? How will you handle that?”
“I gave the staff a harmless sleeping tonic,” Bonnie confessed with a shrug. “They’ll wake in the morning completely unaware of what has taken place.”
“And I gave the same tonic to Lucy when I came upstairs after you two retired for the night,” her mother went on. “I brought her a tea. She sipped on it politely as I knew she would, and we discussed her wedding to Mr. Richards.”
Lucy. The idea of abandoning her poor little sister had the hummingbird in her chest taking flight again. “You are going to allow her to marry Richards, aren’t you?”
“I’ve given her my permission to marry next month.” Her mother raised the lantern so they could see one another clearly. “Of course, only if we receive his promised dowry land in Hollingsdale.”
“Our plan is to break down the mill and sell it in pieces for a hefty price,” Bonnie explained. “We’re hoping that Ulrich will purchase mostof it now that the Andersons are loosely tied to the Fairweathers. If not, then one of the other dozen or so lumber mills across the area will be glad to buy its remains. Once that’s complete, we’ll use the funds to build a new grand home in Hollingsdale on Lucy’s dowry land.”
“Then we’ll move on to Cal’s idea of working with the empty land your father’s hoarded for who knows how long,” her mother said. “Tens of thousands of acres sitting empty for nothing. We control it all now that he’s gone.”
We.
“Cal will inherit.” Willa could make out Noah and her brother’s heads moving about in the moonlight but nothing else. “And you two control Cal, so you two control the Fairweather assets.”
Her mother and Bonnie shared a look. “Your brother understands our plans clearly and will do whatever it takes to see them through.”
“But you haven’t told me how you’re going to explain father’s disappearance.”
The two women grinned together again. “Cal has been practicing his handwriting,” Bonnie said. “A note will be left.”
“And the entire county already knows how Stephen loves to dally with serving girls.” Her mother elbowed Bonnie with a conspiratorial wink. “We’ll say he ran off with one of the Port Michaelson girls we kept on from The Gathering. A scandal, which, of course, we wanted to avoid, but this is the kind that we’ll happily endure, as no one will miss him.”
“Oh, think of it, Margaret. We’ll have to beat the suitors away once we move to Hollingsdale,” Bonnie said, sounding thrilled. “They’ll be knocking down the door to get a taste of the poor abandoned Fairweather wife on their tongue.”
“Let us hope so.” Her mother continued to giggle in that obscene, high-pitched way of hers. “If Cal’s plan doesn’t work, we’ll need some source of income, and I might as well have a little fun while I can.”
The pair continued to discuss their future, and with each new step in their plan, Willa didn’t know if this deranged conversation could get anyworse, but when Margaret began practicing her false mourning face, she decided enough was enough.
“Excuse me.” Bonnie’s gun was back at her side, which Willa took to mean she was trusting them now that they had Noah doing their dirty work. “I want to check on Noah.”
Leaving her mother and Bonnie to cackle over their vile plans, Willa hurried up the small hill to the graveyard. Her brother and Noah almost had the hole that was to be her father’s final resting place filled.
Traversing the uneven ground, she reached them just as they finished, and standing over the freshly dug grave, a small part of her thought that perhaps she should feel something—anything—over her father’s death.
But she didn’t.
There wasn’t an ounce of sorrow in her bones. Well, there was, but it was for herself. He had destroyed her body, destroyed the possibility of her living a full life, and for what? Money? Power? To be revered and feared by men who were as evil as him?
With sweat and dirt covering his skin, Noah tossed his shovel aside and held out a hand for Willa to return his clothes. “What else do you want from me?” he asked Cal.
“Nothing. Take Willa and go.” Dropping his own shovel aside, Cal wiped the streams of sweat from his face and grabbed the lantern dangling from the fence. “I’m assuming I don’t need to tell you to keep the events of tonight quiet.”
With his pants on, Noah didn’t bother with his shirt or jacket. “And I’m assuming I don’t need to tell you to stay away from us.” He crowded Cal, towering over him in his rage. “You will never contact us. You will never speak to my brother, my cousin, or anyone with the last name Anderson again.”
Cal, being the stupid fool that he was, held his ground and raised the lantern in his hand, shining the light directly in Noah’s face. “I plan to sell pieces of the mill to your family, but fine for the rest of it. I’ll end my friendship with Paul and Beau, although they will find it odd.”
“Then I suggest you use that calculating Fairweather way of yours to figure out how to make it not seem so odd,” Noah replied in a low voice, looking ready to dig yet another grave and toss Cal in it. “You and I both know you’re as manipulative as your old man.”
Willa intervened as best she could, not wanting this to escalate and bring Bonnie back over here with her gun. “What of Jennie? Are you going to marry her, Cal?”
