Southern Seduction [Bride Train 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Reece Butler

would cause too much damage otherwise. He threatened to tell all if the Ashcrofts did not comply. Of course, the maid was fired.
    But the delay gave time for Byron’s mother to inform her parents they’d be raising her eldest son, as well as the oldest sister’s boy. They sent money with Byron and strict instructions that they never wanted to see or hear from him again.
    It took months, but Byron did get back the use of his left hand. The doctor’s letter explaining the situation, mailed in fury to Grandpa without the Ashcroft’s knowledge, said someone had stomped on it. It was likely done with the same boot that fractured a few of his ribs. The one belonging to Byron’s father.
    It took a long time for Byron to trust anyone. As far as Cole knew, Byron had never touched a book, paper, or pencil since he arrived at the Marshall farm. Nor did he take more than one drink. He spoke as little as possible and his smiles were rare. Yet he’d come close to smiling while watching Casey with the dog just now.
    Maybe the dog would heal a few of Byron’s invisible wounds, as well as the boy’s.
    “What happened when you opened a book?” asked Cole.
    “I could read before I came to the farm,” said Byron. He shrugged as if it wasn’t important. “I just refused to let anyone know. Since they wouldn’t let me use my left hand, I wouldn’t write.”
    Though Byron pretended it was nothing, Cole noticed his tight jaw and that he kept flexing his left hand.
    “Ranger Elliott learned to read over the winter with Florence’s help,” said Byron. “I can read. I just need to remember a few things. I’ll work with Casey. It’s time the boy learned how to read.”
    Byron could out-stubborn a mule and, like the rest of them, wanted to have control of his life. It wasn’t surprising he’d refused to let anyone know he could read. Knowing how important this moment was, Cole chose his words very carefully.
    “If you teach Casey how to read, maybe he’ll learn to talk better in return.”
    “The way he talks bothers you that much?”
    Cole grimaced. “It’s not just the backwoods talk. It’s everything else. Grandma taught us to be gentlemen. Casey’s from so far back in the woods that I bet his mother never set a foot five miles from her cabin in her whole life. I won’t tolerate swearing in a boy. It’s disrespectful.”
    Byron narrowed his eyes at Cole. At least he wasn’t upset over himself anymore.
    “Casey set the table right, put flowers on it, and has pretty good manners for a backwoods boy of twelve,” said Byron. “Maybe you need to change your attitude toward him. He doesn’t have that strong accent when he talks with me and Marshall. If he’s not so scared of you, he might start talking better.”
    Cole knew Byron was wrong about someone like Casey changing that much, but it wasn’t the time to say so. He turned away, giving them both time to recover.
    “You think Zeus is part hound?” he asked after a bit. “Great-grandpa Marshall used to have some of the finest coon hounds in a hundred miles. When they treed one, their baying could be heard for miles.”
    “Expect we’ll find that out when we get the fiddle and banjo going,” said Byron, accepting the change in topic.
    Cole forced a chuckle. “If anything will get a dog to howl, it’s Marshall’s singing.”
    “Is that what he calls that noise?”

Chapter 6
     
    Cole trudged uphill a couple of hours later, leading his lame horse. Thank God he had less than half a mile to go. Every time he put down his left heel it hurt like a son of a gun. That blister meant he’d worn right through the wool of his last pair of socks. If Casey didn’t know how to darn them, he’d have to learn quick smart. Cole hadn’t walked so far since they bought the dang ranch!
    He looked back, watching the mare carefully set down her left front foot. And didn’t that beat all. Both of them going lame on the same side. He’d barely started work when she picked