Chapter 11

 Clara quickly warmed to the idea of having Maisie in the home. She had been very apprehensive when I had carried Maisie’s unconscious body into Miles’s room. She remained concerned when Maisie was falling in and out of consciousness. After our first dinner all together, she was still worried. Now, she was smiling and full of excitement at the thought of having a wedding.

Miles did not say much to me while we worked outside. He was never one to speak, but his silence was more obvious than usual.

Maisie was alone in the house with Clara. I told her not to allow Maisie out of her sight, but Maisie was smart. She could find a way to attempt to climb out a window again. At irregular periods of time, I would go into the house. Clara was shocked at first because I was never inside during the day. She soon realized I was ensuring Maisie had not run away. Maisie did not attempt to fight or leave because she could not predict when I would be checking on them.

I was smarter than this girl.

During dinner, Maisie did not eat her food. She pushed the meat and potatoes around the plate with her fork. Miles watched her without saying a word. His eyes never left her as she avoided eating. He had never been so interested in a girl before. I was confident I had picked the right wife for my son.

Clara brought Maisie upstairs after dinner. Miles and I quickly changed out of our work clothes before preparing the living room for the wedding. We pushed the couch and table out of the way so that there would be space to stand. I straightened the knit blanket over the back of the couch. This was nothing fancy, but it would work. Miles crossed his arms over his chest as he stared out the window at the setting sun.

“Don’t we need a pastor?” he asked.

“We don’t need God,” I said. Miles looked over his shoulder at me. “God left this family years ago.”

“What is even the point of this then?”

“We’re bringing Maisie into the family. She will officially be a Wilcox.”

The stairs creaked as someone rushed across the house. I groaned, expecting it to be Maisie trying to escape. Clara rushed into the living room. She had changed into the dress she had always saved to wear to church on Sundays. Her eyes were wide, and strands of hair escaped her braid.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Why did you leave Maisie alone?”

“She is refusing to come downstairs,” she said. “I tried, Joey. She is so upset.”

“Is she ready?”

Clara nodded. I pushed past her and hurried to the stairs. Maisie was not in the hallway trying to escape through the window. I barged into Miles’s room, but Maisie did not flinch. She was sitting on the edge of the bed with her head buried in her hands. She cried as her fingers curled into her scalp. Her blonde hair was twisted and pinned, and she wore Emily’s light yellow dress. I stepped forward, and she did not lift her head. Her body shook as she sobbed.

“Maisie,” I said.

She did not react, so I took another step forward.

“Maisie,” I said, raising my voice.

She shook her head. The floor creaked under my feet as I approached the bed. She refused to look at me when I kneeled. I grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and muttered to herself. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, making the freckles on her pale skin more prominent.

This morning she still seemed anxious, but I assumed her behaviour was sorted. She was no longer screaming and fighting. She was pleasant with the family, so I assumed she had realized this was where she belonged. Her crying over the wedding told me that it had been an act.

“Please,” she said. Her voice was hushed, but it still cracked. “Please, let me go home.”

“You are home,” I said.

“No,” she said. “No, I need to go back.”

“Back to what?” I tightened my grip on her wrists. She winced from my tight hold, but I did not loosen my grip. “Maisie, what do you want to go back to? You want to go back to the tavern where you sold your body every night to drunk men? No one loved you there. You had no family.”

“That’s not true,” she sobbed.

“Not true? I saw how terrified you were of that man. I brought you to where you belong. We love you and we are keeping you safe.”

Maisie bit down on her lip in an attempt to control her crying. It was unsuccessful as she continued to sob. How long would it take her to realize that she is a Wilcox?

“Maisie, look at me,” I said.

She shook her head. I let go of her wrist and cupped the side of her face. Her skin was soft. She took in a sharp breath as she opened her eyes, which were rimmed red. I wiped the tears off her cheek with my thumb. Her lips quivered and her breath was shaky.

“There are those beautiful blue eyes,” I said. “Let’s get you to your wedding. It’s time for you to officially be a Wilcox.”

“I can’t,” she said.

“Of course you can,” I said. “You will be the perfect wife for Miles. By this time next year, you will probably be holding your first baby.”

Maisie’s eyes widened. She reached forward and grabbed my shirt. Her brows furrowed as she shook her head. Luckily, she was no longer crying.

“I’m begging you,” she said. “I can’t be doing this.”

“You said that family is important to you.” I took my hand off her cheek and grabbed her wrist again. My shirt was in her grip, but I easily freed myself. “Let’s make you a Wilcox.”

I stood and pulled Maisie onto her feet. She thrashed in my hold and screamed. Her tears made her words an incoherent mess. I pulled her into my chest and leaned down so that my lips were next to her ear. She held her breath as her body tensed.

“We are going to have a lovely wedding,” I said. “If you ruin this by screaming and crying, there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

A moment passed, but Maisie did not say a word. She yelped when I tightened my grip into a crushing hold. I was probably bruising her tender flesh, but it would leave a reminder to behave.

“Understand?” I raised my voice.

“Yes,” she squeaked.

“Good.” I took a step back, but I did not let go. “Time for your wedding.”

Maisie stumbled as I dragged her out of the room. I looked down at her to see her eyes were closed. She was softly muttering to herself, but I could not decipher the words. At least she was no longer sobbing.

She tripped when going down the stairs, and my grip was the only thing preventing her from crumpling. Her eyes remained closed as I pulled her into the living room. Clara was fussing over the straightness of the curtains. Miles was sitting on the couch. He was leaning forward and his elbows were resting on his knees. When I dragged Maisie into the room, he looked at us and smiled.

A Miles smile was usually something small that often went unnoticed. It was something rare. When he saw his bride, his lips were spread into a wide grin. It reassured me that bringing Maisie into this home was the right move for the family. What would have happened if she never approached me in that tavern?

Miles stood and wiped his palms on his trousers. I pushed Maisie toward Mile, and he had his arms around her before I let go. Maisie pressed her face into his chest, but I doubted she had yet to open her eyes. She was trying to block us all out. There was no way I would not let her witness this moment.

I stepped around them. Clara’s hands were clasped in front of her chest. Her eyes glistened with tears as she looked at our son. Neither of us thought that he would find happiness. I had to bring it to him, but he was getting what he deserved.

I stood in front of Miles and Maisie. Her soft sobs were barely audible until Miles tried to comfort her by rubbing her back. The happy atmosphere was being ruined by her cries.

“Maisie,” I warned. “I told you no crying.”

She took in a sharp breath and covered her mouth with her hand. At least she was trying to control herself. Miles’s smile did not waver as he held her close.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

“We’re ready,” Miles said.

Maisie shook her head. She had turned her head so that she was staring away from me. Was she going to pretend that this was not happening? I wanted her to remember the moment she became a Wilcox.

“Maisie, look at Miles,” I said.

She shook her head again. Miles kissed the top of her head before letting go. Maisie stumbled as she stepped back. Her knees were weak from her excessive crying. Hopefully, she would manage to stay on her feet. Her hands covered her face.

“Maisie, lower your hands,” I said.

She did not move. I gritted my teeth as I watched Miles’s smile disappear. He was happy for once and she was ruining his mood.

“Last chance, Maisie,” I said. “Lower your hands.”

A moment passed, but she did remove her hands from her face. I let out a deep breath and stormed toward Maisie. I grabbed her arms and pulled her hands away. She jerked in my hold as she tried to fight me off.

“Let go of me!” she screamed.

I rolled my eyes. She had been acting so well, but was now ruining everything. She tried to pull her arms free, so I yanked her back against my chest. She screamed as she tried to kick my shins. She was more of a fighter than I anticipated. I held her tight, and when she shifted she pushed the knife in my pocket against my thigh.

“Maisie, there will be consequences if you do not behave,” I said.

“Go to hell!” she screamed. “You’re all sick!”

I let go of one of her arms. She tried to throw her elbow into my stomach, but I was able to dodge her attack. Quickly, I pulled the knife out of my pocket and flip open the blade. I yanked her back and pinned her arm to her side as I grabbed her other arm. The sleeves of the dress were not long. Her eyes did not open until I placed the cold metal of the blade against her flesh. She gasped and she shook her head even faster. Her movements were frantic in an attempt to escape.

Clara’s eyes were wide and her hands were covering her mouth. Miles had his arms crossed over his chest, and his usual stern expression. Maisie’s breathing grew rapid as she was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Please, please, please.” She struggled to get the words out. “Please. Don’t.”

“Then behave,” I said. “Be calm, open your eyes, and don’t scream.”

She nodded. After a few deep breaths, she was able to prevent herself from panicking. Her body trembled, so I knew she was still scared. I did not remove the knife from her arm. It was a reminder for her not to misbehave.

“Maisie, you were chosen to be brought into this family,” I said. “You are now going to be a Wilcox. We are always going to love and protect you throughout the rest of your life. You are safe from the horrors of outside.”

Maisie rolled her head back into my chest. Her knees buckled, and I tightened my grip to stop her from falling. I craned my neck to make sure her eyes were open. Miles had his fingers curled tight into his biceps.

“You will be loved,” I said. “You are promising to be loyal to this family. You will be a devoted wife to Miles and a caring mother to your children. You are a Wilcox.”

I moved the blade off Maisie’s arm. She sighed and the tension left her muscles. She melted into me as if exhaustion washed over her body. I pushed her forward and handed her to Miles. He slipped one arm around her waist and cupped the side of her face. He kissed her and she did not fight back. I hoped it was from realization and not fatigue, but I had my doubts.

“Welcome to the family, Maisie,” I said.