The Family Origin

Chapter Sixty-Seven: JOSEPH POV

It rained for days, delaying our trip into town for supplies. I hated going on Saturdays because I was more likely to see once-familiar faces. Unfortunately, we were unable to wait a few more days.

Miles did not speak to me on our ride into town. We had not spoken about the death of his daughter. He acted like it had never happened. Surprisingly, Maisie was not an emotional mess. I expected her to be screaming and crying all day and night like she had when Briar died. Maybe this was for the best? I shuddered at the thought.

I groaned when I saw the extra buggies lined up in front of the stores on the main street.

"Let's make this quick," I said. "Get what we need for the farm. I will get the groceries. Meet back here in fifteen minutes."

Miles pulled out his old scratched pocket watch to check the time. He nodded before shoving it back into his pocket. Without a word, he stepped out of the carriage and walked down the dirt road. A young couple standing in front of the small restaurant stopped their conversation to watch him. Did they recognize him from church? It had been years.

I walked to the Bellamy General Store. The two bells hanging above the door clanged together as I entered. I kept my head down when I saw a man paying at the counter. I gathered a few items off the shelves, waiting for the man to leave. Once he was gone, I set them down on the counter. Samuel Bellamy nodded as I listed off everything else I needed on the shelves behind him. When he turned, I saw the row of dark bottles on the bottom shelf. I licked my lips as I glanced over my shoulder at the door. Miles had always been beside me and watching me like a hawk when we went into town.

"Sam, do me a favour," I said. "Add a bottle of whiskey to my order."

Sam chuckled as he grabbed one of the bottles and set it on the counter.

"I thought you were dry now," he said as he calculated my total. "You have not ordered a bottle in years."

"We have been trying to save," I said. "Keep this quiet from Miles."

"Are you scared of your son?"

"Of course not."

My words came out like a sharp snap, but Sam looked unbothered. His lips were lifted into a small smirk and his brow was raised. I counted my coins and slid them across the counter as Sam bagged my supplies.

The bells over the door clanged, and my heart pounded when I saw the whiskey was not yet in a brown paper bag. Had Miles already finished? Had fifteen minutes passed? What would he do if he knew I wasted money on alcohol?

I turned to see it was not Miles, but two women. A lump formed in my throat when I saw it was Edith and her friend Patti. I spun around and kept my head down, praying she had not seen me. I had not spoken to her since that morning on her porch when she gave me advice about delivering Maisie's baby. Since then, Miles had killed her husband and son. Sam was bagging the remaining groceries so slowly, and I almost grabbed what was already bagged and ran.

I squeezed my eyes shut when the women's voices stopped. They must have seen me.

"Joseph."

It was Edith's voice. I let out a deep breath and raked my fingers through my hair before turning. Edith stepped toward me. Patti grabbed her arm in an attempt to stop her, but Edith shrugged her off and came closer. Her fingers fiddled with the golden cross around her neck.

"People have not seen you in a while," she said.

"I doubt anyone misses us," I said.

"Well," Patti said. "It is not you people do not miss."