Romance Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Hidden Away ❯ A Change for all ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: This is an original novel, and is under copyright. All rights are reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1
A change for all

Manchester, England
Two years later

Naomi awoke to the sounds of the outdoors as she had been every morning since the day two years earlier when she had discovered that she'd had a restful night's sleep outside of Rufus' house. Naomi's garden shed had become her new bedroom, but Rufus had no idea that it had been set up as such. He never would know either, because he wouldn't dare set foot in a dirty shed; it was beneath him.

 

It was okay with Naomi if her uncle thought she was sleeping outside, she knew he didn't care, anyway. Swinging her legs over the edge of her makeshift bed, she stood in the tiny shed to stretch her grogginess away. She groggily reached for the only clothes that she owned, hanging in the spot where she'd hung them after washing them in the river the night before. Her underwear was dry, but the dress was still a little damp. Donning the clean but stained dress with a shiver, Naomi found herself once again thankful that there were no windows in the shed. Once dressed, she picked up the items that would be needed for the morning's first chores. First up was breakfast for her uncle, then she had to straighten up her uncle's room. That was always unpleasant; the man was a dirty slob.

 

Naomi exited her oasis of comfort to trudge her way over to her uncle's cabin. The cabin was one of the last buys Rufus had made before he went completely broke. He'd refused to reduce himself to a homeless beggar.

 

Half-way to the house, she saw a movement in the corner of her eye. She turned, afraid that she would have to fight for herself again like she did last week when she was attacked in the yard while she was returning her gardening tools. Her uncle had heard the noise the two men were making and investigated, scaring them off. Naomi got a black eye from the two men, and she lost two meals for that incident.

 

Seeing nothing that had sparked her attention, Naomi turned back and continued to the house to start her chores.

 

 

Rufus had just finished his lunch, and Naomi was drying her hands after clearing the table and rinsing his dishes. She looked over to make sure that Rufus had gone over to his chair and fallen asleep as was his usual routine in the afternoons. Going over to the storage cabinet, Naomi pulled out some meat for herself, eating it leisurely as she wiped down the table. She had finished snacking by the time she was finished cleaning in the kitchen. Sighing, Naomi wiped off her hands and went to pick up the full basket of dirty laundry that she had filled earlier, and then left the room through the back door holding the basket of clothes intent on washing them. Once outside, she went over to the wash basin that was sitting under a partial roof and she sat the basket of clothes on the ground to gather her long hair together in a loose braid to get it out of the way. Her hair conveniently held back, she picked up the basket to get started on her uncle's clothes.

 

She had half of the clothes from the basket washed when she heard someone approaching from behind her. Turning her head, she found she was being approached by one of the two men who had attacked her some days ago.

 

“You got away last time, woman, but you ain't gonna this time,” he said when he saw that she'd noticed him.

 

Naomi rolled her eyes with a sigh and took her arms out of the wash water with the washboard still in her hands, then fully turned to face him.

 

“Where's your friend?” Naomi goaded.

 

“Don't matter. More for me,” he leered.

 

“You're going to wish you'd brought him along,” Naomi informed him calmly.

 

He laughed, “What, you think you can best me, sugar? If it wasn't for your old man, you wouldn'ta got away last time,” he continued ambling toward her, and stopped a few feet away from her. He leaned in a little to try intimidating her, “I'm bigger and stronger, so do yourself a little favor and give me that ol' washboard,” he cooed.

 

“Yes, I suppose you're right,” Naomi nodded. She stepped forward to do as he said, kneeing him when he took the washboard from her hands. He fell down in screaming agony, and Naomi took the washboard back from him. She scoffed and calmly turned back around to continue the laundry, not at all worried about the man now writhing on the ground behind her. She knew from experience that he probably didn't care about using her anymore and would be whining like a baby for at least a day. By the time she had finished washing the last shirt that was in the basket, the man had stumbled away, holding his pained parts and cursing at her colorfully. Walking out to the line at the side of the house, she hung the clothes up. Her dress was wetter than it was this morning, she noted absently. Once done, she decided she would work on the vegetable garden. That was usually a peaceful, enjoyable task for her.

 

On her way back to her shed to get her trowel to use in the garden, she combed her hair out with her fingers, trying to do what she could to repair her hair after it had fallen from the loose braid she'd put it in earlier. Halfway there, Rufus bellowed at her from the back door of his house and Naomi stopped in her tracks, dropping her hands from her hair.

 

`Great. What did I do now?' she thought as she did an about face and went back to the house, past the hung laundry she had just done. Naomi went inside the house out of the sunlight to see Rufus standing across the room. Her eyes adjusted to the darker room as she stood there, waiting for him to start yelling at her. He looked over at her briefly, then turned back to the window he had been looking out of.

 

“You are going to America to be the bride of Caldwell Cokrain,” he said to her finally.

 

“Might I ask you why? I thought you enjoyed being waited on,” Naomi asked her father's brother. She didn't bother trying to avoid angering him anymore. That had stopped since she had started sleeping outside of the house. Rufus glared at her hard for her remark.

 

“First thing, it's time you got married. You're twenty years old, and you're lucky to have this chance, because you've nearly gotten too old for me to find someone willing to marry you,” he said roughly. This of course being a lie because he knew he'd never had any intention of marrying her off in the first place. His rough tone clashed with his well-bred voice as he explained, “I've been paying your way long enough, anyway. Second, I owe Mr. Cokrain for all his kindness and I had to repay him somehow. So I'm gonna send him a wife,” he said simply, “Besides, they are already expecting you from the next ship.”

 

“You're forcing me to marry a man I've never met, now? What if I don't like him? Would I have to come back here?” Naomi asked. She was tired of being forced into things. It had been done to her too much in the past. She'd been forced into Rufus' care, and was forced to bury her only friend when she had died. She'd been forced to do all of the chores, and she'd been forced to go hungry if she refused to. She'd been forced to fight men twice her size to avoid being used, and then lost food for that, as well.

 

“Well, I won't force you to marry him, but I won't give you the money to bring you back, either. I'd rather just be rid of you,” replied her uncle gruffly, trying to hide the fact that he was lying and would rather keep her for himself, “But I can't say the same for Mr. Cokrain. If he decides he wants you, it won't matter if you don't like him. As of the moment you leave here, you are his, not mine,” he said bitterly, leaving the house in a huff with an order for Naomi to get dressed into a gown from the trunk next to his chair.

 

She stared at the old door her uncle had just left through. Well, that didn't sound very appealing. Still, the opportunity to get out of this place had finally been handed to her. For that, she was willing to give the guy a chance, or ride on the hope that he wouldn't even want her. It wasn't as if she actually had a choice anyway.

 

She looked into the room toward the trunk her uncle had just indicated, and went over to it. The trunk had appeared in the living room roughly one year ago, but Naomi didn't ask questions. She really hadn't cared then. Kneeling down, she lifted the top of the trunk. Naomi sat there on her knees holding the top open, aghast.

 

Though she could only see carefully folded fabrics, she knew what she was looking at. Unfolding a couple of the folded mounds, Naomi spread them out to get a better look at them. They were beautiful. She'd never seen these gowns before, and she wondered why her uncle hadn't sold them yet. They were obviously worth a lot. She chose a blue one and tried it on to find that it fit her perfectly.

 

…

Maryland, U.S

 

Breagan had finally finished the design of the new post office building, on which construction was to be started within the next year. He put down his drawing utensils and leaned back in his work chair scratching his head with both hands. Looking up at the clock, he discovered that it was already 12:30 in the morning. He begrudged the fact that time always raced by when he was working. Standing up, he stretched the muscles that had been strained from being hunched over his drawing desk for the past three hours. He didn't mind, though. Breagan Tyler genuinely enjoyed his work as a drafter for the city. His designs were all over the city, and new jobs were coming in constantly. He currently had three drafting jobs that he was splitting his time between.

 

Checking the clock again, he went into the dark kitchen to grab something quick to eat before he went upstairs for his usually late bedtime. He was startled by his housekeeper's presence in the kitchen. She was dressed in her nightgown already, and her long gray hair was hanging down her back in a loose braid. She was putting away what looked to be ingredients for a sandwich.

 

“Aren't you supposed to be in bed by now, Minna?” he asked of his family's long-time housekeeper. She was more a member of the family than she was the maid, by now, though.

 

“Shouldn'a ye be in yer bed too, sir?” she answered when she closed the cabinet door. Then she turned to hand him the sandwich she had made for him, “S'ham, sir.”

 

Breagan reached out and reverently took the wonderful looking sandwich from her weathered hands, “You didn't need to stay in here until I was finished in the study, you know. Your day was over long ago,” he said thankfully.

 

“Aye, I know. But I canna be finishin' m' day when ye're still workin' sa hard ta see yer buildin's in real time. Sa don' go tellin' me ta go ta me room when I need ta see that ye be eatin' right when yer workin' late. Ye willna feed yerself right, I know.”

 

“Thank you, Minna. I really wasn't looking forward to eating some stale bread.” Breagan replied to Minna as he took a healthy bite of the sandwich, thinking of how she had unknowingly taken the role of secondary mother to him. She had been taking care of him ever since he'd been born, although she had been a part of the family ever since his father had moved into his own place just after his marriage.

 

“I dinna think ye were, Breagan. Ye finished yer design, yes? Ye know ye got yer talent for drawin' from yer mama.”

 

“Yes, I know that, and yes, I finished the building. Construction on the building should be started in a few months,” he replied absently while he looked through the kitchen doorway to one of his famous mother's paintings, which was hanging in the foyer of his house. His mother did paintings of anything she had seen that was pleasing to her own eyes. It was plain to see, by the high demand for one of Colette Tyler's works of art, that they were pleasing to every one else's eyes, too. He could still vaguely remember his mother hunched over her easel painting anything that had caught her eye.

 

Studying Breagan's tired face, Minna scolded him, “Ye know that ye work too much. Ye might get ta bed at a right hour if ye had a reason ta,” she paused to watch him for a reaction to what she was saying. Seeing no reaction yet, she continued,

 

“Ye need ta find ye a lass ta love, dearie. Yer father tryin' ta get ye married isn't as crazy as ye think. Ye might like it, ye know.

 

“I seriously doubt that,” Breagan said, taking another greedy bite of the sandwich. He thought of his choices of the available women in the area. All raised to be shallow trophy wives clamoring to be the first with the next new thing. No, he didn't think he would like it at all.

 

Half of the women in the town wanted to be the envy of all the other women. Breagan Tyler was the most eligible bachelor in town, with his dark and sensuous looks. He was also well respected and had old money attached to his family name, which is what the other half of the women were after.

“Dinna go stayin' up ta late, now. I'm goin' ta bed. Good night, sir.” Minna said over her shoulder as she began walking out the doorway to her ground-floor room just beyond the kitchen.

“Good night, Minna,” he said to her around the corner. Breagan took his precious sandwich up the stairs with him to his room at the end of the hall. By the time he had gotten into his room, the sandwich was gone. He undressed completely, revealing broad shoulders and a large, but leanly muscled chest, narrow waist and hips. Still undressed, Breagan climbed into his high profile bed, finding that it has begun feeling larger and larger lately. His father had put these ideas in his head, and he knew it. A marriage between his only son and a woman he would actually like have been foremost in Jake's mind, and Breagan always got little hints that his father was impatient to get grandchildren. Of course, those little “hints” were hardly ever hints. His father was hardly ever subtle. Breagan had a sister that wasn't any closer to getting married than he was. Even though she was only a couple years older than him, practically making her a spinster, she received the exact same treatment from their father. Jake didn't intend to force her into a marriage strictly for status, which was standard practice in their society. He wanted her to find a suitable husband whom she would love, or live without one. Nobody was to know of Jake's intentions, of course, because that was not what was done. A woman married who her father chose, or approved of, and that was the end of it. Jake simply informed everyone that he hadn't found anyone worthy yet. Breagan and his sister had a little bet going as to who would get married first.

Breagan tried to shift to a more comfortable position in his monstrous bed. He couldn't find one. Probably because he was not looking forward to his next day, he reasoned. Giving up on his attempt at finding a position he could fall asleep in, he threw the covers off and sat up. He sat at the side of his bed for a moment, then stood and went to the window. He wasn't worried about being seen from outside, bare as he was, because there were trees blocking the view in front of the window. He looked down on his modest gardens in the back of the house directly below his window as he contemplated his next day. He was going to have to go to Caldwell Cokrain's estate and get his statement repaired once again. He was using Cokrain Lumber Yards to buy his building materials for the simple fact that it was the only one in the area. His lumber yards had appeared about a year ago, and the yard that Breagan had been using at the time had shut down due to the competition. Cokrain had raised the prices of his lumber by more than double on his statement. Cokrain was always trying to overcharge him, and anyone else using the yards, but Breagan suspected that Cokrain had a specific disliking of him for some reason. One would think he would have learned to stop trying to cheat him by now. He had gone to the site in question at the foreman's request, and found that the materials were substandard, as well, and not what he had ordered. Arguing with Caldwell Cokrain over something that could have been avoided was not Breagan's idea of a good, productive day. After that meeting, he would then have to go through his account books which he never enjoyed. Top that off with the ball his father had planned for that night, and it was to be a long day. He knew that the ball was supposed to be a celebration of his last design's build being completed, but Breagan suspected that his father had planned the ball to scope out any new potential daughters-in-law in the area. His father was always hopeful that he would find a good woman for his son that they could both stand for more than one evening.

After contemplating his next day for a long while, he turned and lay down on the bed, in one swift motion this time. He covered himself with his covers and stared at the ceiling. Damn it, he ached. Not because he was tired, of course. He should really stop sleeping in the nude, he thought. His body always seemed to react in such a manner when there were no clothes covering it…especially since it had been so long. Looking down toward his traitorous flesh which was hidden by the covers, he gave a mental shrug. Maybe he did need to be more active in his father's search for a woman Breagan could feasibly marry. Cursing the fact that his starved appetite would soon force him to choose one of those money-hunting vultures as a wife, he lay there for a long while before he finally succumbed to a restless sleep.