by Tanya Hanson
“Caldwell, what is it? You have a schoolhouse to run, and I have errands of my own.” Minda was suddenly weary, so weary.
Her instincts told her what this was about. She wanted Brixton, Caldwell wanted her, and Esperanza had tightened all of them into a coil. Only Brixton could do the unraveling.
But he wasn't here.
Caldwell offered her his arm politely, and she took it, too tired to be obstinate. Besides, her husband could be a thousand miles away.
They walked a goodly distance from anyone else's earshot.
“I won't mince words, Minda. I fell for you at my first sight of your daguerreotype.” He paused, his throat working behind his collar like he might be struggling what next to say.
He breathed out and plunged ahead. “I would have protested at that farce of a wedding when Jake asked, but my father warned me about making a public scene. He felt it would compromise my position in the community.” He grinned boyishly. “Although that punch in the nose has seemed to enhance my manliness.”
“Mr. Hackett...”
“Sorry. What I mean is, I've heard that Brix is gone, and well, I've met Miss Eames. That marriage of yours is all but over, Minda. I think you need to accept that Brix now has a child on the way and the children will have a stepmother.”
She'd had those very same thoughts, but hearing his words out loud staggered her. Like the day she'd proceeded to her wedding, she stumbled against a clump of blue stem, for this stroll with Caldwell was very like walking up an aisle. All she could do was clear her throat against the pain.
“Minda, I want to make a respectful offer for your hand. The kind you deserve. You know I love the children. If for some unseen reason, they should need someone, I would gladly make them my own. As for you, I will take care of you,” Caldwell said in a voice as firm as it was tender. He looked bashfully at his feet, then forced a stare into her eyes. “And I will love you until I die.”
Minda was a married woman, but she didn't feel appalled or offended. Indeed, she'd long suspected Caldwell's feelings, and his declaration came as no surprise.
What surprised her, she admitted shamefully, was the possibility that she might accept. She couldn't in good conscience keep Esperanza's baby from its father, and she couldn't go back to Gleesburg.
His mother was a busy-body, but Caldwell was kind, intellectual, and prominent in Paradise. He'd promptly regained his reputation after declaring her bonnet and getting punched in the nose.
More than anything, Minda realized hopelessly, Brixton had already run out on a pregnant bride. She could never let him know about the baby she might be nurturing deep down inside. It needed a father, too, and she was tired of raising children all alone.
Despite the blazing love she had for Brixton, Caldwell just might do. After all, she'd come to Paradise to wed for reasons other than true love. It didn't hurt so much to finally accept that Norman Dale and Brixton had both betrayed her in their in their own ways, just to keep the children together.
True, Caldwell might be promising nothing but the same, but he also promised to love her.
Something Brixton never had.
She nodded, resolute and forlorn both. “Go ring that bell. I never thought I'd say this, and I'll need time. Likely a lot of it. But I promise to think about your offer.”
Caldwell took her hand in a gentle squeeze, but she pulled politely away, confusion and a kind of squeamishness pounding with every drop of blood in her veins. The truth couldn't be ignored. It would always be Brixton's touch she'd feel.
* * * *
Around him, the prairie and cornfields and sand hills let Brix know once again he wasn't in Texas, but the sun shined the same, and the bugs bit just as hard. He grinned. Truth was, he'd come to admit those Nebraska roots Norman Dale set down had started to grow up through his own boot heels.
He had every kind of good feeling inside that a man could have. Fara full of beans between his knees, the wind in his face, and Minda waiting back home had him wanting nothing more.
Three days away from her. Damn, it had felt like centuries. That last night of sacred love in her arms had him doubt he could make it until tonight. All he wanted was her. All he needed, too.
But even with his need for a blistering hot welcome home, Brix was man enough to know a polite stop at Tom Holden's farm was the right thing to do before anything else. Tethering Fara, he found his neighbor scrubbing up in a bucket by the front door of his little sod house.
“How do, Tom. Just letting you know it's a deal for sure.”
“Now, that's a good thing, giving Ned something else to think about.” He shook his head like a wet dog. “Me and the missus got a start on the corn while you was gone.”
Brix nodded. “Well, I'll be around to bring in the rest. But don't forget. I got two girls, too.”
“That I do. You know, Brix, I don't do with gossiping like an old biddy, but...” Tom's eyes, tight from years in the sun, squinted even more. “My kids've been bringing rumors home from school. About you taking off without saying good-bye to your kin. Me and my missus haven't been to town since church Sunday, so can't say for sure what this next is all about. But our boy claims some fancy Texas woman's showed up, big as a barn, saying she's bearing your child.”
Brix's lungs emptied at the wild notions. He'd left Minda a note about his plans fair and square. And while he'd had a few tender affairs in his day, he knew well how to prevent such a thing. With Minda, now, his own true wife who hadn't protested, he hadn't given a thought. As for that faithless bride-to-be in Texas, he'd planned to explore her virginity on the bridal night that had never taken place.
“Pure gossip, all it is,” Tom said. “Well, Brix, good luck to you.” He extended his hand and Brix shook it. But Brix was uneasy as he mounted Fara, skin cold with dread. Gossip was never a good thing.
Suddenly Fara's hoof beats, once so cheerful, sounded like a leaden death bell. This time around, Minda might find him hard to forgive. She'd been victim of gossip once or twice, their wedding for one, Caldwell for another, and she hadn't liked any of it a single bit.
Ahead of him, perched like a toy behind the windbreak, was home, that magical place where Minda lived. His heart swelled. Whatever had gone wrong since he'd left, he'd fix right up. It was too early for a light on, but it didn't matter. He knew she waited inside. The kids would be home from school by now, and Silly up from her nap.
He tethered Fara at the hitching post at the front door, unwilling to take the time to curry and stable him right now, unable to hold in his joy for another second.
“Minda? Neddie-boy? Katie? I'm home!”
The kids ran screaming from Dicey's side in the pasture, their pup at their heels. He grinned. Ned was still beguiled by that heifer. Damn, he'd make a cattleman of that boy yet. He gathered them close like an armful of flowers.
Then she stood, the reason for every good feeling he felt, and walked toward him from the back porch. Like she had that day at the river, Brix opened his arms wide, ready to hold her to his heart.
She allowed it, a brief stay in his arms, but she was stiff and pale. “You're back,” was all she said.
“Minda, what's wrong? Told you I'd be back. Never said I'd be gone for good.”
“But you never said you were leaving.” She buried her face at the crook of his shoulder. “You never kissed me good-bye.”
He chuckled at that, and held her back a bit to see her tragic face. “I most surely did. But you were sleeping so sound—” He leaned into her ear to whisper so the kids couldn't hear. “I think I wore you out that night. Maybe you don't remember.”
Nibbling at her mouth now, he attempted to get her to smile. But her kiss in return was short and tight, nothing like he expected after being gone, nothing like either of them deserved. Likely because the kids were so close by.
“All right, if you say so.” But still she didn't smile. “I don't remember. But you didn't say anything to the children at all. We've been worried, Brixton. That
was plain rude, and mean.” Her voice trembled, but there was nothing coy in her reaction. Her resisting him was real, and it hurt.
“But I left a letter. On your worktable. Said I'd be back.” His shoulders slumped in desperation. What had happened?
Coming home to her had spurred him on, mile after mile. Why had his proud arrival turned to failure?
Katie tore from his side and ran to the barn just as Ned shrieked, flapping his hands in excitement. “Company's coming. Look!”
It wasn't everyday visitors. Over the wind, with Minda in his arms as stiff as a board and mad at him, they had neither seen or heard. Right now, turning into Norman Dale's place was something from a story book, a fancy box-like coach pulled by two perfect matched bays. A coachman in a fairy tale suit climbed down and bowed to someone inside.
“Brixton,” Minda said softly, looking up bravely into his face like she knew just who it was. His heart stopped before it hammered hard against his lungs. For a flash, he couldn't breathe. Was she leaving him after all?
“Something's happened while you were gone. Someone has come to town.”
He recalled Tom Holden's mention of rumors. Swallowing hard, Brix turned back and forth between his wife and the brougham. The newcomer hadn't come into sight yet.
She cleared her throat, but her word still stuck.
“Esperanza.”
Brix felt carved from stone.
Helped by her manservant, Esperanza stepped out, gracefully in spite of her burgeoning body. Gorgeous clothes like Brix remembered pulled tight across her belly for greatest effect.
Brix had always wondered what he'd do, what he'd feel, what he'd say if he ever saw Esperanza again, but he never imagined she'd be large with child, and he'd have a wife at his side to calm. If Tom was correct, she'd be blaming him for her condition, which was physically impossible. But, he almost gagged, Minda certainly believed it.
And why not? She thought he'd left her, too.
“Well, well. Good afternoon, Brix.” Esperanza's green eyes were surprised, but sly. “I'm rather stunned to see you here. I heard you were out of town, but don't we all know what that really means? I came by to bring some toys and proper clothes for the children. I found a fairly decent retailer in Omaha.”
Brix didn't believe her. She'd come to make trouble, pay Minda to leave him. Threaten something evil.
“If you'll excuse me,” Minda said, taking Ned's hand, “I'll leave you two to your privacy. And I'm certain you'll understand, Miss Eames, why I don't welcome you into my house.”
“How'd you get here, Esperanza? And why?” Brix stood tall and furious.
“Oh, Brix, you can see why.” She giggled but looked away. “I didn't hire a Pinkerton if that's what you're thinking. My daddy sent me to my auntie in Council Bluffs so as not to embarrass him.” She sent out a bitter little laugh. “When he heard from Buck that you were staying on around here, well, I couldn't resist hiring a coach and seeking you out.”
For a moment, her nose crimped with apology, but he knew deep down she wasn't sincere. “I had no idea I'd intruded on a married man. Well, that's easy enough to fix.”
“Esperanza, you've lost your mind. That baby's not mine. You come to ruin my reputation?” Anger clenched his fists, but he counted slow and untied them.
“Hmm. Well, Brix, everybody in Butter Creek believes you're the father. And Daddy surely does. He wants me to have a husband. And who do you think people will believe? Him, the richest man in West Texas, or you? The buckaroo who ran out on his daughter?” Her eyelids shuttered closed.
For a vague, polite second, Brix wondered if he should get her some kind of seat. The baby wasn't his, but she was a woman with child.
But she stormed along before he could move. “We had something once, Brix. You can't deny it. And we could have that again. The ranch we planned. That little house you started to build me.” Her eyes blinked beguilingly.
As he grabbed his hand back, his teeth clenched so tight he gnawed his tongue. “Started to build, Esperanza? I finished it, every square inch. But it wasn't big enough, good enough for you.”
“Minda believes me.” Esperanza dared him.
Her beauty was still grand and powerful, but he'd recovered just fine from the deep hurts she had caused. It was a good thing after all, their cancelled wedding. For he'd never have been free to marry Minda.
Minda. His eyes closed in frustration. Hell and damnation, he wasn't about to let this cattle baron's spoiled daughter disrupt his future with his wife.
Still, he remembered her pa's money and power and his heart quaked a bit. All he had was his honor.
Esperanza's eyes stared and dared, reminding him of the taunt she'd thrust at him after flinging herself from Rawley Snate's arms. He owed her nothing.
“I'm a man of responsibility, Esperanza,” he said, figuring she might have forgot. “Folks hereabouts, far as you can see, know I took on my brother's bride, his kids, and his debts. That baby isn't mine. But if it had been, I would have done right by you, and you know it.”
He held her chin tight in his hands and stared her down. “Get your daddy to hire that Pinkerton and chase down Rawley Snate. Remember him? The man who broke up our wedding?”
“Brix?” Her face had turned mostly pale, but the cheekbones had gone purple.
“No, Esperanza. It's over. You can't beguile me again. Likely I ought to have faced you before and said it in person. So I'm doing it now. Right inside there—” He pointed to the little white house he'd helped build. “Inside there's all I ever wanted. It just took me some time to know.”
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* * *
Chapter Nineteen
“Who's that pretty lady, Mama?” Neddie asked in his voice that was somewhere between baby and boy.
Pretty lady? Minda turned cold from head to foot as she quietly shut the back door, wishing she could slam it instead. But Priscilla was still napping. That pretty lady was someone who had the potential to destroy their home and family.
“Someone who knows Uncle Brix from Texas,” she said as mildly as she could, holding off a shiver.
“But she said she brought toys.”
Minda knelt to hold the little boy against her heart, praying their world wasn't ending. “Well, let's wait and see about that. Don't you still love your toy doggie from me best of all?” She hid her tearful gulp with a little cough.
Neddie grappled her neck. “Oh, I do, I do. But I love Schatzi, too.” He wiggled away and grappled his puppy next. “Me and Katie thought that's a good name. Miss Marylaura told us it means sweetheart in the German language. That's what you like to call me sometimes.”
The love shining in his eyes warmed her through, and she hugged him again. “Ned, you will always be my sweetheart. No matter what happens. Now, why don't you go outside and play with Schatzi for a while? But leave Uncle Brix alone, you hear? He and that lady have things to sort out.”
Lady! She snorted.
After the little boy left for the pasture, Minda sat weakly at her worktable, looking out the front window at her husband and their visitor like she watched a sad play on a stage.
How could she feel hot and cold at the same time? Brixton's arrival should have filled her with tumultuous joy, but there he stood, bearing blame. To hold down her trembles, she picked up her Bonnet Race hat and half-heartedly continued her repairs, recalling Brixton's glorious kiss after he'd won the race.
But she couldn't keep her eyes away. As she peeked out the window, her innermost heart rejoiced that Brixton didn't appear to behold Esperanza with any kind of affection. His actions and presence weren't those of a man learning the tender news of fatherhood, or of a man rendering forgiveness and renewing a promise.
Or of a man caught in a trap. He had the stance of a determined man who knew he was in the right. Like it burned him, he dropped Esperanza's hand, said something with a firm nod of his head and looked straight at the house.
Through the window, their
eyes met, and she read gratitude and hope. For Minda, it was like they saw each other for the first time, making up for their initial meeting of secrets and anger.
Her heart tumbled in a new way. He claimed he'd left a note on her worktable, that awful day when he'd ridden off without a word, breaking her heart, but he hadn't. She kept the house tidy as a pin, and the house was small. Had he told another convenient untruth to save himself from a predicament?
After all, he'd kept truth from her before—painful raging truth that had changed her life forever.
No. Changed her life for the better. Something blossomed inside that had been ripening all along.
Brixton wasn't a man who ran out on his responsibilities. He'd taken on a wife he didn't want. He'd ridden in a race even though his little niece had secretly entered his name. He'd harvested crops he despised. He'd stayed on through illness, stayed on through danger, and stayed on despite all his threats to leave because downright affection had overtaken his heart. She knew it, and she knew him.
Despite his hard edge, Brixton was a man who cared deeply and fondly for those in his charge.
If he'd chanced to give Esperanza a child, he'd never have left her.
Now he had come back. Back to her. Despite the anxiety of the past few days, she had to let him know she believed in him, and always would.
And that she loved him. It was time to say it out loud.
Katie ran in from outside, a bundle in her arms, and her face flushed with what could only be guilt. Minda felt a trill of alarm and hugged the child close.
“Firefly, what is it? What's the matter? And what do you have there?”
Moving free from Minda's arms, Katie tore away the brown paper and held out a glorious bolt of violet gossamer silk. Minda gasped at the beauty.
“Why, Firefly? What is this? Where did you get it?”
“It's a surprise from Uncle Brix. For you. One day I came out to get Schatzi and he was hiding it in the barn and I saw. He told me to keep it secret. It's for a new dress.”
“Then why now?”
Katie wiped her nose on her sleeve. “You're mad at Uncle Brix, and sad, too. I knew if you saw this, you wouldn't be angry anymore. I don't want you to go, Mama. That lady's outside. At school Emma said Uncle Brix used to love her back in Texas. So I thought, maybe, Uncle Brix's surprise will make you feel better. I can help you make the dress if you stay with us.”