by Emily Woods
“There is…something to share.”
He nodded, thinking of his own news. He had wanted to wait to tell her, but she was here now and it bubbled just beneath the surface, wanting to come out. “I too have news.”
“You do?” She regained some of her smile. “Do share.”
“But you were saying?”
“It can wait.”
He narrowed his eyes, trying to see if she were telling the truth or merely letting him overrun her excitement. She seemed genuinely interested though, so he went ahead with it.
“We’ve got the deal with Red.”
“You do?”
“Not just I, us,” he squeezed her fingers. “He wrote to me and I only got the letter today. He is thrilled with the business plans and wants to begin right away.”
“That is wonderful,” she said, her smile widening across her beautiful features.
“And yet…” he drew his gaze away.
“What? What is it?”
“It’s my brothers.” He dropped one of her hands to rub the back of his neck. “I’m afraid they aren’t as ‘on board’ as I’d assumed they would be.”
“What do you mean?”
“They are optimistic, but I don’t think they are convinced as I am that it will be to the ranch’s benefit. All they can think of is the extra work the additional land will require and the managing of more hired hands to deal with the horses and such. I only see it as opportunity, where they see burden.”
She stepped closer, only a few inches separating them now. “Albert, if you believe in this, you must do it. I know you want your brothers’ approval for this, but it is your land and I fully believe that you’ll be able to handle this. You’ve thought of everything and you’ll do wonderfully with this, I’m sure.”
“Thank you,” he said, his smile coming back. This time, when he leaned forward to kiss his bride, she didn’t shy away. He deepened the kiss and reached out to pull her closer. As he did, she broke the kiss and stepped back just as he heard his mother’s voice.
“You tell him the truth or I will.”
7
Della felt the world crash to a stop all around her. How Albert’s mother had sneaked up on them, she didn’t know—but no, that wasn’t right. She was fully enamored by the man in front of him as he learned that his dreams were going to come true. And if that hadn’t been distraction enough, he had kissed her, taking her breath away almost completely.
No wonder she hadn’t heard the woman come up. But she did now, and her words struck icy fear into Della’s heart.
“Mother,” Albert said, gently squeezing Della’s fingers and then turning to face the older woman. “What are you doing down here?”
“I’m coming to protect my son.” As she said the words, her voice broke and Della could see how greatly this affected her. She wasn’t lashing out in blind rage, she was merely protecting her child.
Absentmindedly, Della’s hand went to cover her abdomen. Rose was doing what Della would in her situation and with her limited insight into the matter.
“Albert,” Della said, feeling the tears she’d suppressed come back in full force. “Please, listen to me—”
“No!” She heard the anger in his voice as he turned to face his mother, one of his hands still clutching hers. “You have no right to feel—to act—this way toward my wife. My. Wife.” He emphasized the last words to make sure that she understood.
His mother looked taken back by his ferocity, but then something steeled in her eyes as she turned to look at Della. “Well?” was all she said.
Della knew what she wanted. She wanted her to tell him, right there in front of her, about the baby, but this was all wrong. She’d wanted to do this on her terms. To be able to explain fully and without having a witness.
“Albert, I…” The words failed her. Where did she begin to tell a tale that was both sad and terrible and yet had a beautiful ending, though not all would think it so.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, his tone gentle and for her ears only.
“She may not say anything,” his mother said, “but I gave birth to you and raised you and have loved you fiercely from the day you drew breath and I will not—cannot—stand by and see you deceived in this way.” His mother was crying now.
“Mother, please, whatever it is you have to say, just say it and go so that we may have some peace.” Albert sounded weary now, as if his mother’s tears had sucked the life from him. Perhaps they had.
With one last glance at Della, Rose met Albert’s gaze. “All I will say is that you must ask your wife about the child she is bearing and whose it is.”
Then his mother spun on her heel and left.
Della felt all the moisture in her mouth leave. It was sucked bone dry and she desperately needed a cup of water. Something she was certain she would not get.
Albert turned a confused gaze on her. He looked at her and searched her expression. She wondered what he found there— Honesty? Truth? Guilt?
“Della,” he said. It was both a question and a plea.
“I’m sorry…”
He dropped her hand instantly and stepped back.
“But…it’s not possible. We. You. I haven’t…” He flushed.
“I’m sorry, Albert, I can explain.”
“Explain?” He shook his head, then turned to look up the path where his mother had gone. Was he rethinking his actions toward her? Wondering why he hadn’t listened to her in the first place?
“Albert, please.”
“No.” He shook his head, holding up a hand to stay her words. “I…I need to go talk to my brothers. I… Maybe I need to rethink this plan with Red and, well, everything.”
Her eyes shot wide open. “What? No, you can’t—”
“Clearly,” he said, his gaze slamming into hers, “I am not a good judge of character. Perhaps I’ve been too hasty. And to think…” He roughed a hand across his neck. “The one time I made a commitment, I was so badly mistaken.”
His words cut her deeply, the roughness of their honesty making her regret everything. Wishing she could take it all back. She couldn’t though, and she had to make him see why. Make him see some sort of reason.
“Albert, just let me explain this.”
“No.” His word was final.
She fell silent and watched as he turned up the road, retracing the steps his mother had made. She felt the emptiness inside of her grow and widen like a cavity exposed to the elements might cave with the first bout of strong rains. He had trusted her, put all of himself on the line to marry her—to commit to her—and how had she repaid him? With lies and hidden truth.
Perhaps she could explain in a way that would make him understand, but she wasn’t sure he would even listen to that now. He had lost confidence in her—in them—and that would be the one thing that she’d have to repair if they were ever to make things work between them.
Was it a dream, though? Was it possible to have happiness and freedom after the maelstrom of dishonesty had wreaked havoc?
Della wasn’t sure. The only thing she did know was that her love for Albert had only grown, despite everything, and she would do everything in her power to prove to him that they were worth moving past this. No matter how long it took and no matter how much it hurt her. She would do whatever it took.
Albert couldn’t get away from the shame that overtook him when he thought about how angry he’d been with his mother and then seeing the look of the truth on Della’s face.
She was with child. Not only that, it was certainly not his child, and she hadn’t told him about any of it.
He felt like a fool. Like a lamb led unknowingly to the slaughter who went willingly because they trusted the one leading them. He’d trusted her, like a lovesick fool, and now he found himself wondering what would happen next.
He walked back to the big house but, before he came in view of it, he circled around back and to his favorite tree. It was a spot he’d always gone to as a ch
ild when he needed to think. Tromping through the tall grass, he spotted the tree and plodded his way through the underbrush there. The path had long since overgrown, seeing as how his brothers, their wives, and his mother obviously didn’t come out there anymore.
That thought saddened him, and yet he relished the idea of some time alone with his thoughts. Then again, what could he contemplate that wouldn’t make him feel like the idiot he was for believing—
He stopped that thought as he came to the old tree he’d leaned against as a boy. It grew tall now, its foliage shading the whole area. He slid down to rest against the trunk again and wished he could as easily go back in time and try things over. Perhaps marry that sweet, blonde girl he’d known since his school days. She’d eventually married a farmer and they had a gaggle of children now, but that could have been him.
Even as he thought that though, he knew it was wrong. He’d never cared for that girl—or any of the others—like he cared for Della. And, against his better judgement, he still cared for her. Deeply.
He rested his head back against the trunk. She’d said she could explain, but what did that mean? Explain the child? Explain not telling him? And would that explanation make up for…everything? It seemed unlikely that would be the case.
But there was a part of him that wanted her to explain it all away. To give him a good, solid reason to continue loving her, because the thought of ending his feelings seemed impossible.
He heard footsteps coming his way, the sound of the dried grass crunching underfoot, but he didn’t turn to see who it was. If it were Della—his heartbeat quickened at the mere thought of her—but no, she wouldn’t know about this place.
“I thought I might find you here.”
It was his mother, but he still didn’t open his eyes or acknowledge her in any way. Despite the fact that he now knew she were merely protecting him, he didn’t appreciate the way she’d gone about it.
“I understand that you’re unhappy with me,” she began. He almost laughed but kept his mouth shut. “And you have every reason to be.”
He heard more rustling and then felt the warmth of her next to him as she took a seat leaning against the tree as well.
So much for time alone to think.
“I think I could have handled things differently,” she said in a low tone.
“You think so?” he said, his eyes snapping open as he turned to face her. “I realize that you don’t like Della, but there was no reason for you to blast this news to me in front of her and then…then…” He lost steam and quickly realized he’d been defending Della. His anger fizzled but the reason remained, and he tried again. “Mother, I love you, you know that, right? But if you had an issue with Della, you’ve gone about it in the wrong way. What was to say that I didn’t know about the b-baby?” He licked his lips. “You just assumed and bundled up that anger and then look what happened?”
“But you didn’t know,” she said, wringing her hands in front of her. “I could tell by the way she looked at you. Hesitant and cautious. She didn’t want you to know.”
“Did you ever think that was because she didn’t want to hurt me?” Her silence was answer enough. “Or did you only think that she was devious for a selfish reason?”
His mother’s head bobbed slowly. “I suppose you’re right.”
Sudden compassion flooded him, and he turned to face her. “I know you love me and that is the only reason you did what you did, but this can’t go on. I beg you to see Della for who she is—my wife and the woman I love—and not for who you think she is. Do you think that’s possible?”
Rose met his gaze and offered a small smile. “You really do love her, don’t you?”
“I do. More than I can say. Even with this…news,” he sighed, “it hurts and I’m curious to know what her explanation is, but I already know it won’t change how I feel about her. If her feelings are at all genuine—which I think they are—then we’ll work through this. I just…need some time. To think.”
“Of course,” his mother said, reaching over and squeezing his hand for a brief moment before she stood. “I will apologize when the time is right. And I do hope you work things out. Despite my anger toward her, I can’t help but like her spirit. I think we will get along well…in time.”’
He watched his mother go and felt a weight lift. It was all he could have asked for. It was bizarre to him how a moment ago, he’d been angry at Della, but in defending her to his mother, he’d seen that he still cared. Even something as monumental as a child didn’t seem to alter his love for his wife.
And wasn’t that the way it was supposed to be? Wasn’t he supposed to love, honor, and cherish her forever, no matter what? He’d pledged that to her, and he wasn’t about to go back on the vows now.
He shot to his feet, suddenly infused with energy. He had to find Della. He had to find his wife!
8
Della placed her extra skirt back into her traveling bag. She closed the bag and then slumped onto the bed next to it. She’d already talked to one of the hands and he was in the process of hitching up the wagon to take her back to town. She had no idea what she’d do once she got there, but at least she would give Albert the space he obviously needed.
She still had a few coins left from working at the restaurant and she hoped it would be enough to buy her a few meals and a bed at the local hotel for a few nights. If not… Well, she wasn’t going to think about that until it was time.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she fought the urge to panic. Instead, tears slipped down her cheeks in torrents. This wasn’t how she’d expected things would go. She had imagined telling him and then begging for forgiveness and his mercy for her and the child. After that, she wasn’t sure what would happen, but she’d hoped she’d see some type of understanding, though minimal, in his gaze.
She’d seen none of that earlier, only hurt and anger.
How had she gotten herself into this mess? She’d been so foolish to think that a man wouldn’t toss her out the moment he heard about her condition. Placing her hand on her abdomen, she allowed herself to feel nothing but love for the child. It wasn’t their fault, though they would certainly face the consequences.
The sound of heavy footfalls alighted on the wooden stairs and Della shot to her feet. Was it Arthur or Aaron? Or was it Albert? The mere thought of seeing her husband both worried and excited her. She wanted to see him, wanted him to beg her to stay, to say he understood—or at least for him to ask her for the truth—but that was just fanciful thinking.
The footsteps passed.
She sunk back onto the bed and let out the breath she’d been holding.
They came back, louder this time, and the door flung open.
Della’s eyes widened as she took in Albert. His hair was sticking up in all manner of untidy ways and he had grass sticking in his boots and to his pants. His eyes took in her face and then her body, but she couldn’t read his expression.
“I—” he began but halted, the words sticking in his throat. She didn’t dare move. “I’m sorry.”
It was the last thing she’d expected to hear from him. Anger at what his mother had said or frustration, yes, but not an apology.
It loosened the words from her. “No, I’m the one who is sorry.”
He shook his head and came toward her, slowing as he neared the bed. “May I?” he asked, indicating the spot next to her. She nodded, and he sat. “I shouldn’t have left like that. I should have listened to you—given you the chance to explain.”
Was she dreaming this? Della felt lightheaded as the words he spoke made her think he was reading her mind.
“It’s not a pretty story.” The words came out before she could stop them, but she was done giving false truths.
“I’m willing to listen, no matter what.” He held her gaze with such ferocity that she had no choice but to believe him.
“It wasn’t long ago that I thought I’d found a man who would take me away from the life I hated at the house.” S
he flushed and looked down, knowing that it sounded like what he’d done for her, but she had to show him that he wasn’t that to her—he was so much more.
“I foolishly allowed myself to believe that this young man loved me. He said it, even bought me a few gifts to show me but…” She paused, looking down and flushing with embarrassment. “After he gave me one of the gifts, it was at a fancy dinner at a restaurant attached to a hotel,” she explained, “he said he wanted the favor returned. I didn’t know what he meant, but…I let him take me to his room. I thought we would just talk. He said he wanted to get to know one another in privacy, but…”
Humiliation colored her cheeks in a deep blush. Even recounting the tale now, she saw how foolish and naive she’d been. How had she thought he just wanted to talk?
“He took advantage of you,” Albert supplied.
She merely nodded. “I was a fool. I told him no, but…” She looked up at Albert. “I convinced myself that I’d allowed him to do it. I told him I never wanted to see him again, realizing that I myself was to blame, and made sure that I was securely locked in the home long enough that he lost interest.
“But the damage was done.” She cradled her abdomen. “Despite the fact that he was terrible and didn’t listen to what I said, I can’t blame the life inside of me.” She met Albert’s gaze. “I love this child as my own and I’m sorry, but I would do anything to give them a better life.”
Albert nodded slowly but remained quiet.
“Then you came along,” she said, foraging ahead despite his lack of input. “When I met you…it was something completely different. Not only did you rescue me from yet another bad situation, you…were different. Then you told me about how I should not hold myself accountable to someone else’s sin. And while I played my part in wrong choices, I need to stop feeling guilty for what I could not control.”
Feeling as if she’d said all that she could, Della pressed her lips together and looked down at her hands.