by Linda Bridey
The next two days were filled with happiness for Dean and Tessa. Dean still took care of the stock and Tessa kept the house, but they also had many private moments. One night, they lay outside again. They enjoyed watching the stars together.
“Tell me about the winters here again. You told me about them in your letters and it felt as if I were there, it was so descriptive,” Tessa requested.
Dean fought the fear that gripped him. He had no idea what Marcus had told her and he certainly wasn’t good with words like Marcus was. “Well, that was a little while ago, so I’m not sure if I remember exactly.”
Tessa snuggled closer. “I know. It’s all right. It’s very hard to recreate something like that.”
Dean cleared his throat. “Let’s see. They’re cold, of course.”
“Winters generally are,” Tessa said with a laugh.
“The storms can come on real quick. We usually get at least one blizzard each winter. It can get down below zero sometimes and we have to make sure the cattle don’t freeze. When we see a blizzard is coming, we string a rope between here and the barn so that we don’t get lost going out to feed them. You can’t really see where you’re going because the snow comes down so thick and fast,” Dean told her.
Tessa was puzzled. Dean was giving a general description, but nothing like what his letters had described. As a writer and a student of writing, she recognized that the voice was not the same at all. It was as if someone else had written those letters. Maybe it was just because she had put him on the spot. She had an idea.
“Yes, and you said that the clouds become dark gray, like dull metal,” Tessa said.
Dean nodded. “Yep, I did.”
Tessa tensed beside him and raised her head so their eyes could meet. “Your letter said no such thing. You didn’t write those letters, did you?”
Dean knew his goose was cooked. “Look, I’m not good with words, so I had Marcus help me out.”
“Marcus? He wrote them?” Tessa moved away from him. “Did he read the letters I wrote back?”
“Yes. He had to so he knew how to answer them,” Dean said. It seemed reasonable to him.
Fury blurred Tessa’s vision for a few moments. “I said many personal things in those letters, Dean. Things I didn’t think anyone else would ever read! How could you do that? How could you lie to me?”
Dean propped himself up on an elbow. ‘I didn’t lie. Everything in those letters was true.”
Tessa got up and brushed grass from her skirt. “How would you know?” she shouted. “You didn’t write them!” She turned and headed for the house.
Dean rose and went after her. He caught her arm and turned her back around. “Everything in them was true. Marcus only wrote what I told him to write. He just said it better than I can,” he said.
“Did you approve them before he sent them?” she asked stiffly.
Dean scowled. “No. I figured he knew what he was doing.”
Tessa looked down at her arm. “Kindly unhand me. I don’t care to be touched by someone I don’t know.”
“What? You can’t be serious. Not after the past few days,” Dean said.
Tessa colored because she knew he was referring to their lovemaking. “Yes, well. That won’t be happening again. That was when I thought I knew the man I married.”
“Tessa, you do know me,” Dean insisted. “And I know you. I read every one of your letters, over and over. And we’ve spent so much time together over the last couple of months. How could we not know each other?”
Tessa ripped her arm out of Dean’s grasp. “I said let me go. I came here based on what was said in those letters. You don’t even know what was in them. I fell halfway in love just from what they contained. I think I married the wrong brother.”
She whirled and entered the kitchen. Tessa marched to their bedroom and packed up her belongings in her suitcases. Dean watched silently as she finished.
“I’m not leaving the house. I’m moving back upstairs. I don’t want to leave the children and I’ll do my wifely duties, all but one,” Tessa said giving him a meaningful look. “I can’t share a room with a man I don’t know.”
Dean began to get angry. “This is ridiculous. You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”
“Really? Am I?” Tessa’s eyes blazed with pain and anger. “I don’t think so. Now, if you’ll move out of the way, please.”
Dean could see by the stubborn set of her jaw and stiff posture that she wasn’t going to budge. “Fine. Have it your way,” he said and left the house.
Only when she was in her old room upstairs and had deposited her things on the floor did Tessa let the tears come. She shut and locked the door and lay down on her bed. She sobbed quietly into the pillows. Tessa was hurt because Dean had essentially lied to her and he couldn’t see it. He didn’t think it was a big deal, but to her it was. Had it not been for what was said in those letters, she would have never left home to come west. She would not be married to a man who had deceived her and thought she didn’t have a right to be hurt.
Suddenly, she wanted her mother just like she had when she was a little girl and had suffered some kind of hurt. She needed her mother’s strength and comfort, but could not have it. Tessa cried herself to sleep as she realized how alone she was and how foolish she had been to come to Montana all alone.
Chapter Eleven