The Scars of a Pure Heart

by Grace Clemens

  “I’m glad you got that wandering out of your system,” Len admitted. “Now you can settle in and get back to work. We need you now more than ever.”

  It was as if shackles clamped down over Blake’s wrists and ankles with those words. Everyone expected him to follow in his father’s footsteps here at the ranch. Well, he wasn’t going to be a good boy like Troy. Blake wasn’t cut out for mundane ranching work. He wouldn’t spend the rest of his life as a slave to the seasons; fixing fences, branding cattle, and forking hay endlessly.

  He pushed his guilt aside angrily and tried to keep a level voice as he said, “I’m not done adventuring, Pa. I’ve told you dozens of times: I don’t want to work on the ranch.”

  Len’s face hardened. “You’ve always thought you were too good for this kind of work, boy. I wish to God that my father hadn’t infected you with his wanderlust. I thought that having a wife would finally make you settle down and accept your responsibility. You can’t keep taking off when you’ve got a family to care for!”

  Unintentionally, Blake threw Macie an accusatory glance. He was too infuriated to register the shock and hurt on her face or the way she stepped backwards as though to escape his disgust.

  He wanted to scream at his father that nothing would hold him back and that he wasn’t going to have the responsibility of a wife for much longer. Thankfully, though, he had enough restraint to hold his tongue. Instead, his face burned hotter and he balled his fists.

  “You never even tried to understand,” Blake hissed at his father. “You just blamed Granddad for leaving. And now you’re blaming me for doing the same. Well, if that’s what I have to come home to, maybe I’ll stop coming home.”

  He didn’t let himself so much as look in Macie’s direction as he stalked off.

  Chapter 20

  It took a full hour of pacing the meadow and venting his anger to the birds flitting around him before Blake’s anger finally cooled. In the empty place it left behind, guilt crept in. Even though Blake still felt that he was the wronged party, he knew he owed Macie an apology. Unfortunately, this knowledge did nothing but stir up his irritation again.

  This was absolutely the wrong time to try and make a decision about his marriage. Still, Blake couldn’t keep his mind from ruminating on what to do with his pretty, unnecessary wife as he stewed about the mess with his family and the treasure hunt. All his logical arguments butted heads with his emotional heart. Something inside him abhorred the idea of having a wife and then abandoning her to go adventuring. He needed to end things with her and take off on his own.

  The image of lying next to her in the wagon came to mind and Blake growled to himself that he needed to stay focused. Now was the time to cut ties and let Macie get on with her life. If he waited much longer, he might be too attached to her to do what needed to be done.

  He returned to the cabin with every intention of facing his wife’s ire and neatly telling her it was time to annul the marriage.

  ***

  When the door opened, Macie looked up from her place at the stove and watched her husband stride into the room. She’d spent the past hour unpacking and putting things away, flatly refusing to let herself think too much about the confrontation between the Bradfield men. Blake was the kind of person whose temper blazed hot but blew itself out pretty quickly. It made for hurt feelings in the moment, though little lasting damage.

  So, she’d watched Blake stalk off. Then she’d turned to her father-in-law, smiled apologetically, and gotten to work. Yes, her husband’s words that she tied him down had stung. But Macie wasn’t one to hold onto grudges and she hoped they’d work things out in due time.

  Now that Blake was home, she had both supper and her heart ready for his return.

  “If you’ll wash up, we can eat,” she informed him.

  Blake’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. Apparently, he hadn’t been expecting this response. It took him a moment before he clomped to the washbasin and made use of the water and soap. Then, hands still dripping as he forgot the hand towel hanging nearby, he made his way to the table.

  Macie dished up the meal she’d thrown together as she waited. Judy had been kind enough to bring by a chicken ready to be cooked. Potatoes and carrots had joined the bird in the roasting pan. Now, the cabin smelled fragrant and Macie hoped Blake had noticed how good it felt to walk in the door.

  They ate in silence for a few minutes. As much as Macie wanted to start talking and clear the air, she also didn’t want to push Blake before he was ready. Her desire to set things right was overshadowed by her dislike of conflict. So, she sat and ate silently and waited.

  Once his plate was almost empty, Blake finally grunted, “I’m sorry for taking off the way I did. Pa made me so mad and I needed to get away before I said something I regretted.”

  “I think that was wise,” Macie agreed. When Blake’s eyes grew wide, she sighed and said, “Anger isn’t a sin, Blake. It’s what you do with it that causes problems. Your father didn’t see your side of things and you weren’t about to agree with him. Walking away was the right thing to do.”

  The young man looked thoughtful as he chewed both that idea and his supper over.

  When he spoke again, his voice was humble as he said, “I think I was unkind to you, Macie. I took out my anger at my father and brother on you. I’m sorry for that.”

  “I forgive you,” Macie answered quietly. “I understood what happened, but it did hurt.”

  Blake nodded along. He looked down at his plate for a moment before turning intense hazel eyes on his wife. “None of this is your fault, you know. I don’t want you blaming yourself for any of it.”

  It was Macie’s turn to be surprised. Blaming herself hadn’t occurred to her. Did Blake blame her somehow?

  But before she could ask, he continued on, talking as though he was a bottle that had been uncorked.

  “It isn’t my fault either. I’m so tired of my family blaming me and Granddad for doing anything other than ranching. Pa gave me his blessing to go on Granddad’s treasure hunt then was upset with me for being gone when disaster struck. And Troy’s superiority makes me so angry every time. Just because he’s never had the foresight to imagine any life other than one right here on the Yellow Rose Ranch, doesn’t mean that it’s what we all have to do. Dreaming of doing something else isn’t wrong and I hate that my family acts like it is.”

  Blake blew out a sigh and then smiled wearily at Macie. “I told myself I was done stewing about it and yet, here I am, getting all fired up again. I suppose this is just proof that I need to follow Granddad’s hunt to the end. Then I can decide what to do next.”

  Without looking at her husband, Macie innocently asked, “What would you like to do next?”

  “I want to see the world,” Blake admitted. Macie glanced up and watched as his eyes grew dreamy. “I read about trees out west that are taller than the tallest buildings ever could be. I want to know what it’s like to be a lumberjack or to pan for gold in Alaska or sail a ship across the ocean to China. I want to go where no one knows me and see if I can make my way all on my own. I want to rely on no one but myself.”

  Macie put down her fork, her stomach too knotted to eat another bite. She tried to convince herself to speak up and tell Blake how she dreamed of staying put. She should tell him of the house she longed to have, the children she pictured, and how much she wanted him to be a part of the life she imagined.

  But Blake pushed his chair back and took his empty plate to the washboard.

  “I’m going to go and help Pa with the evening chores,” he explained. “Thanks for supper. I’ll be back before too long.”

  Then the moment was gone and Macie washed the dishes alone, scolding herself for not having the courage to speak up.

  ***

  Once again, Blake and Macie found themselves in Iver Kennedy’s office. Len had been none too happy about Blake taking off again, but the stoic rancher did little more than grunt dismissively when his son explained th
at they needed to see the lawyer once more. Things weren’t precisely better between the two men, but both had had time to let their tempers cool and were more reasonable. It made the day’s trip into Elmswood a little more enjoyable for Blake, who was still unwilling to admit the weight of guilt he felt about being absent during the fire.

  But things weren’t completely back to normal in town. Unlike before, Iver Kennedy seemed unsettled. His fatherly air was completely missing and there was a definite aura of guilty shiftiness about him. As Iver had always been controlled but kind, Blake couldn’t figure out what was happening.

  Iver handed over the unexpected letter without cracking a smile. He hadn’t spoken more than a dozen words to the young pair and had asked no questions about how the first part of the hunt had gone. Blake couldn’t quite reconcile this disinterest with the man he’d dealt with previously. Now, as Iver watched the young man in front of him accept the envelope, no emotion crossed his face.

  Unsettled by this change in the lawyer, Blake thanked him curtly and ushered Macie out to the wagon to read the next missive. Once on the wagon seat, Blake held the paper so that his wife could read along.

  Dear Blake and Mrs. Bradfield,

  I hope you’ll forgive an old man’s meddling once more. You see, this letter does not contain the next set of instructions to continue my treasure hunt. Rather, I write this to inform you that Mr. Kennedy has one last letter to give you. However, he cannot hand it over until two weeks from today.

  Please don’t be angry, Blake. I know how eager you must be to continue your adventure. This time with your wife is precious, though, and I don’t want you to waste it. I hope you settle into your home and take time to learn to live together happily. Ever since I lost your grandmother, I’ve come to miss the quiet moments with her more than anything else.

  Yours,

  Ewell Bradfield

  Blake stared at the words on the page, not sure how to feel about this newest development. He stole a glance at his wife who was rereading the letter again, her brow slightly furrowed. It was funny; Blake felt that he should be frustrated with this further delay. At the beginning of this whole adventure, he would have been. It didn’t even occur to Blake to remember that he’d been ready to send her packing not twenty-four hours earlier.

  But now, he’d just been given another two weeks with Macie. He had two more weeks of coming home at night to her good cooking, two more weeks of her sweet smiles, two more weeks of Macie belonging to him and no other man. Though he longed to be off on his own, Blake was all too aware that his time with this woman was finite and he greedily rejoiced that it would last a little longer.

  Of course, his pride couldn’t let Macie know all this.

  “Well, that’s a real wrench in the works,” he groused, hoping he sounded properly put off. “I don’t know if I can get Pa to agree to let me leave again if I have to wait. Still, I bet he’d be glad to have me around after the fire. It’s sure to be a help to have another man to stand guard.”

  “I’m sorry you have to put off the hunt for so long,” Macie said sweetly.

  Blake released the wagon brake and flicked the reins, one boot finding its usual spot on the buckboard. A secret warmth uncurled in his stomach and he had to hide a smile as they headed back to the ranch.

  ***

  Macie was hiding her own reaction to the letter. She felt smug that she was on to Ewell’s plan. This newest set of instructions confirmed her suspicions: Ewell had put all this together to make sure that his grandson didn’t miss out on the joys of marriage in his haste to go adventuring.

  Why else would Ewell insist on Blake marrying? He knew his grandson all too well. Ewell knew that Blake would be unable to resist meeting any crazy demand his grandfather might make. And he would stubbornly hold on to the idea that going adventuring was glamorous and exciting, no matter how dull the treasure hunt might be. Ewell had put into place a few safeguards to give Blake every chance to settle into his marriage.

  For the first time, Macie’s appreciation for this grandfather-in-law whom she’d never met grew enormously. She had to hide a smile of her own when she thought of the old man’s cunning. Well, thank you, Ewell, Macie thought to herself. If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to return to Elmswood, to be welcomed into the Bradfield family, or to have a chance at having a happy life with Blake.

  As the wagon rumbled home, Macie felt herself join into a partnership of sorts with Ewell. He’d put these two weeks at home together. Macie was determined not to waste the gift. She began to plot ways to use the time wisely.

  Chapter 21

  The next week was special for Blake; not that he would admit just how much he enjoyed having his wife around the cabin. Perhaps the fact that it was likely going to be short-lived made it more special, but the pair settled into a comfortable routine.

  They rose early. Blake went off to help with chores while Macie began breakfast. Throughout the long day, both were occupied with any number of tasks. Blake stayed busy in the stable and out all over the spread. Macie, he knew, often found herself working alongside her mother-in-law.

  There were certain tasks which were arduous and better suited to being done with the help of another woman. Judy had dropped by and asked her son if he thought his new wife would like to be included when she tackled these sorts of jobs. He guessed that she would and was glad to see his wife blossom as she worked alongside his mother

  In addition, Clora needed extra assistance as she was nearing the arrival of the new baby. So, laundry, making soap and candles, and canning were all jobs that Macie completed at her mother-in-law’s elbow, often with Clora helping out as little as they could manage.

  Blake’s days were equally full. He had taken on an extra shift doing guard duty so that Troy could be close to home at night. Blake was glad to be able to help, though his older brother wasn’t nearly as grateful as Blake thought he ought to be.

  From time to time, when Blake was out in the corral or walking to the stables, he’d catch sight of Macie hanging the wash or stirring something in a big cast iron pot over an open fire. It felt so right to see her there. Blake couldn’t ignore the fluttering in his belly or the quickening of his heart whenever he saw her.

  But the best part of the day was when the pair sat alone in front of their own fire in the evenings. It was too hot to actually light a fire. Still, it was a natural gathering place. Macie had her chair and Blake had his. She’d often pull out some knitting to work on in the lantern light while he worked on a piece of harness or whittled something. They typically discussed the nuances of their days over supper and were feeling close and friendly by the time the meal was cleaned up and they were settled in their seats for the evening.

  Blake opened up more and more each night.

  “I expect the last part of the hunt will take us west,” he surmised the first evening. “Granddad went that way often enough. Now that we’ve gone east to Mills Ridge, I bet he’ll send us the other direction. He told me about a gorge there that’s even deeper than the Red Hills Canyon, if you can believe it.”

  The next night, he replied to Macie’s inquiry for more information about what kind of a man Ewell Bradfield was.

  “Granddad worked hard all his life. He built this ranch from nothing. He’d been a ranch hand for years before he saved up enough to buy a few head of cattle. Over a lifetime, he and Grandmama built this cabin and then the big house where Troy and Clora live now. They went from half a dozen cows to hundreds. The Yellow Rose Ranch is a respected place thanks to Granddad’s hard work.”