Robin Lee Hatcher (19 page)

He thought of the anger and resentment that he’d harbored in his heart for years, emotions that rose to the surface at the slightest provocation. He thought of the revenge that had motivated him after learning of Bethany’s wager. The bad outweighed the good.

He glanced at his wife, seated beside him. There was a sadness in her eyes, a sadness that she tried to hide from everyone — but he saw it. He’d put it there. Supposedly he’d married her to protect her. He’d promised to take care of her.

More filthy rags in God’s sight.

That night, Nathaniel sat in a winged-back chair near the window of their bedroom, the Bible open on his lap. But his thoughts were not on the text. They were on his daughter and her husband. Things were not right between the two. He could sense it. Had he been mistaken in giving his consent? He’d thought God opened that door, but he may have been wrong.

“Nathaniel, I want you to talk to Bethany when she is here for Ingrid’s wedding,” Virginia said, drawing his gaze toward the bed. “I can’t shake the feeling that something’s not right.”

He put aside his reading glasses and closed his Bible. “Why do you say that, dear?” He didn’t tell her he’d been thinking the same thing. He valued her opinions.

“A mother feels these things. Now you promise me you’ll talk with her and try to learn what’s amiss.”

He turned down the lamp and rose from the chair. “Why is it that you have the feeling, but I must do the talking?” He slid his legs beneath the blankets and held out an arm to draw his wife into the pillow of his shoulder.

She nestled against him, the position a familiar one after so many years together. “She loves him.”

“I believe so.”

“And he loves her.”

I hope so
.

“Then you’ll speak to her and find out what’s wrong?”

“I’ll speak to her, Virginia. I promise.”

She lifted her head and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, dear.”

As Nathaniel drifted off to sleep, it was with a silent prayer of thanks to God for his wife and another prayer for his daughter and her husband.

TWENTY-THREE

Ingrid Johnson and Rand Howard were married on the second day of July at two in the afternoon. After the ceremony in the church, the wedding party and guests moved to the Silverton home for cake and punch. The rooms soon grew uncomfortably warm, yet people seemed reluctant to leave the merry gathering.

From one side of the parlor, Hawk observed his wife as she visited with her mother and the bride. Bethany was a vision of beauty in an embroidered gold-colored gown and matching satin bonnet. It was a dress he hadn’t seen her wear before, certainly not one appropriate for the ranch, but one that looked perfectly suited to her. She deserved the kind of life that required that sort of dress every day.

He’d made up his mind. He would leave here without her. He would put an end to her unhappiness.

Whoever beat him up that night back in early June must have knocked good sense clean out of his head. Otherwise he never would have thought — even for a minute — that marrying her was the answer to her mother’s concerns. In the weeks since their wedding, he’d managed to make Bethany unhappier than any amount of gossip could have done.

She glanced his way, a soft smile on her lips, and he felt a catch in his chest.

He cared for her more than he should. That truth couldn’t be ignored any longer. What her feelings were for him, however, he couldn’t begin to unravel. She pretended so well in front of others that he couldn’t be sure she didn’t pretend when it was just the two of them. Sometimes he wondered if maybe . . .

No, it would be better this way. Better for her. An annulment would free her to live the life she was meant to have. She shouldn’t have to pretend. She needed a husband who could give her a life of ease. She needed a man who was accepted in fine company, not one who would always be seen as “less than” by some folks.

He remembered how hard she’d worked since her arrival at the Circle Blue. She’d earned more than one blister on those pretty white hands of hers, hands that were meant for fine embroidery, not scrubbing clothes in a washbasin. No, she deserved a better life than he could give her, and the time to set her free was now. Today he would return to the ranch alone.

And though he was loath to admit it, the cabin would be a forlorn place without her in it.

“Bethany?” Ingrid’s fingers closed around her forearm. “Rand wants to leave soon. Will you help me change?”

“Of course.”

She glanced toward the corner where Hawk had been standing moments ago. He was no longer there. Well, no matter. He could find her when the bride and groom departed. She hooked her arm through Ingrid’s, and the two young women made their way to the stairs.

Once they were in the bedroom, Bethany set about freeing the train of tiny buttons that ran along Ingrid’s spine, from collar to below the waist of the pale yellow gown.

“I am glad we will live closer than we do now,” Ingrid said. “It will be good to have you to come to if I need advice on marriage.”

Bethany shook her head. She would be the wrong person to come to for that. “You won’t need advice.”

“I’m a little frightened of this first night together.”

Bethany looked up, meeting Ingrid’s gaze in the mirror. The bride’s cheeks were stained with a blush.
Please don’t ask me
. She lowered her eyes to the buttons on the back of the dress.
I have
nothing to tell you
.

“Who would have imagined when we arrived in Sweetwater that we would both be married by midsummer?” Ingrid raised her arms as Bethany lifted the gown over her head. “Your mother says she will be lost without us.”

“She will find others to mother. You wait and see if she doesn’t.”

Ingrid laughed softly. “I think you are right.”

A soft rap sounded on the door. “May I come in?” Rand asked from the hallway.

“Just a moment more,” Bethany answered as she lifted the blue calico dress from the bed.

When Ingrid was ready, she moved to the door and opened it, a smile lighting her face.

Rand grinned in return. “You’re as pretty as a summer day, Mrs. Howard.”

“Thank you, Mr. Howard.” She blushed an even brighter red than before.

He kissed her cheek, then her lips. “We’d best get a move on.” His gaze flicked to Bethany. “You tell Hawk I’ll see him soon. I couldn’t find him downstairs.”

“Maybe he stepped outside to escape the heat.”

“Maybe.” Rand offered his arm to Ingrid. “Ready?”

“Yes. I am ready.”

Bethany followed the bride and groom down the stairs. She observed the hasty farewells, then moved onto the porch to wave good-bye as the newlyweds drove away in a black buggy. The remainder of the guests dispersed soon after that.

“Oh, my.” Her mother sighed as she stepped into the parlor and sagged onto the closest chair. “I’m exhausted.”

Her father patted his wife’s shoulder. “It was a wonderful wedding and reception, my dear.” Then he turned his gaze upon Bethany. “I’m glad you haven’t gone yet. I’ve scarcely had a chance to say hello. Where’s Hawk?”

“I don’t know. He was in here before I went upstairs with Ingrid, but I haven’t seen him since. I thought maybe he went outside. It’s so hot in the house.”

“Well, sit down and wait here for him. He can’t have gone far.”

Something niggled in her stomach, a worry that was hard to define. As she settled onto the sofa, she thought back over the day. Hawk had seemed even more distant than usual this morning. She’d done her best to coax one of his rare smiles out of him but had failed.

Should she tell her parents how things were between them? Maybe Papa could help in some way. She’d run out of ideas of her own. She’d tried her best to tend to the house and the meals. She’d tried to be pleasant and accommodating. Yet nothing had changed between them.

Her thoughts drifted to last Saturday, to the kiss they’d shared at the swimming hole. Oh, it had filled her with so much hope. If only it could have lasted. If only he hadn’t pulled away so soon. If only . . .

Griselda appeared in the parlor entrance. “I found this in the kitchen.” She extended her arm, an envelope in her hand. “It’s addressed to you, Miss Bethany.”

She took the envelope, glanced at each of her parents, then opened it and withdrew the paper from inside.

Bethany, I think it’s best that you remain with your parents. Our marriage was a mistake. I thought it would protect you, but I realize now that I was wrong. It wasn’t fair to you. I’ ll send your things back to town. Tell your father that I will sign any necessary papers that will allow you to obtain an annulment. It should be possible since the marriage wasn’t consummated.

Hawk

Her gaze rested on his name for a moment before the paper slipped from her fingers and drifted to the floor.

“Bethany?”

“He’s left me, Papa.”

Her father rose to his feet. “Left you?”

“Yes.”

He crossed the room and picked up Hawk’s note, reading it for himself. When he looked at her again, he asked, “Is this true? The marriage wasn’t . . .” He didn’t finish the question.

He didn’t have to finish. She knew what he meant. “Yes, Papa. It’s true.”

Her father turned toward her mother. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s easy enough.” Bethany’s throat grew tight as she tried not to cry. “He doesn’t want me.” She lost the battle with tears. They welled in her eyes and fell down her cheeks.

Her father drew her up from the chair and folded her into his embrace. “There, now. There, there.” He patted her back. “We’ll sort this out. You’ll see. We’ll sort it all out.”

When she’d cried herself out, he led her to the sofa and sat her beside her mother, who immediately grasped Bethany’s shoulders and leaned close, staring into her eyes.

“Do you love him, Bethany? You said you did when you married him.”

She nodded.

“And I believe he loves you.”

“You’re wrong, Mother.” More tears, blurring her vision. “He . . . he never truly cared for me. I . . . I hurt his pride. That’s all.”

Another sob escaped her. It wasn’t pleasant loving a man who didn’t love her in return. It hurt, way down deep in her heart.

Her father drew a chair close to the sofa and sat upon it. Then he leaned forward, taking one of her hands in his. “My dear, this is your home if — and I emphasize, if — you need it. But I want you to think very hard about what you do next. It seems from this note that Hawk is leaving it up to you, whether or not you dissolve the marriage. It even seems to me he is suggesting it because he thinks it would be best for you. That doesn’t sound like a man who doesn’t care.”

Her pulse skipped at her father’s words. She hadn’t thought about what Hawk had done in that light.

“Marriage isn’t something you try out and then throw away if it
isn’t easy, my girl. Real love is a rare and precious thing, and it usually
doesn’t come about without hard work and devotion.”

If only Hawk could love her, even a little.

“You’ve never been a quitter, Bethany Rachel.” Her father paused before asking, “Have you done everything you can to make your marriage work?”