“That will take years. I wounded him deeply.”
“You wounded his pride more than anything else. When he gets over being mad and embarrassed, he’ll figure out that you’re worth keeping.”
“But I’m not.”
Ransom muttered a mild oath under his breath. “Don’t think like that. You’re as good as anyone else in this town, as fine a lady as any who warm a pew on Sunday mornings.”
“You’re very kind, Ransom. But I’m not good enough for Ty, not good enough to be the mayor’s wife. If I leave town, maybe he’ll still have a chance to win the election.”
“If he has any sense, he’ll realize that you’re more important than being mayor. He’ll figure out what a lucky man he is to have your heart.”
“I can’t blame him for being mad enough to spit hot coals.”
“It wasn’t the best way to hear about it.” Ransom checked the street again. “Ty’s been walking the straight and narrow for several years now. He’s forgotten that life isn’t always so upright and proper. I’m your friend, Camille. What’s happened doesn’t change that.”
“Thank you. But you’re Ty’s friend, too.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to agree with him. We’ve been at odds before and our friendship survived.” He stepped back, resting one foot on the top step. “If anybody bothers you, let me know. Lock your doors.”
“I will.”
He nodded, turned and walked back across the yard and toward town.
Camille went inside, locking the door after she shut it. Leaning against it, she closed her eyes, finally allowing the tears to fall. She didn’t know if she would have made it home if Ransom hadn’t come with her. Though she doubted any of the men would have actually tried anything, she didn’t know if her courage alone would have carried her far enough.
“Miss Dupree…” Hester’s soft voice startled her.
Gasping, Camille opened her eyes, looking at the housekeeper. She stood in the kitchen doorway, wearing her apron. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”
“I wasn’t.” Hester came into the living room. “Until I heard what happened.”
Camille wiped her eyes and braced for a put-down. “I know you want me out of the house. As soon as I pack, I’ll go to Nate and Bonnie’s.”
Hester frowned, resting her hands on her hips. “I don’t have any say whether you go or stay. That’s up to Miss Nola. I came over here to fix your supper. Didn’t figure you’d be eating with Mr. McKinnon tonight.”
“Or any other time.” The painful thought took away her breath.
“I wouldn’t count him out yet if I were you. He’ll come around, just you wait and see. Men are all the same. Get in a snit over something, rant and rave for a few days, then come wandering back just like nothin’ ever happened.”
Camille wondered how a middle-aged spinster knew so much about men, but she was too wrung out to question her. She took off her hat and set it on the table in the hall. Following the housekeeper into the kitchen, she sat down and dutifully choked down an egg, a few bites of ham and a biscuit.
“Thank you, Hester. I needed the food and the company.”
“I’m surprised Mrs. Flynn isn’t over here.”
“She’s in bed with a sick headache.” Which meant she would probably be too sick to move for two or three days. “Nate came by the office this morning and told me, before everything happened.”
“Do you want me to stay?”
“No, you go on home. I think I’ll go to bed. I’m exhausted.”
“I’ll be over in the morning, usual time.”
“Good night. Please lock the doors when you leave.” Camille trudged up the stairs and changed into her nightgown.
She curled up in bed, but sleep eluded her. Heavenly Father, please be with Ty. I hurt him so much. I should have told him at the beginning. He might have stayed a friend, but he wouldn’t have let it go farther than that. He would never have been hurt this way.
Would it have been better never to have known his love? Despite the ache in her heart, she didn’t think so. He’d changed her life. She wouldn’t be the same if they’d only been friends. She’d probably still be gambling, cynical about all men, without an inkling of the love of Jesus. Or about what love truly meant—both to give and to receive.
Perhaps when the pain dulled, she would be able to remember only the good things about their relationship. Maybe when I’m Nola’s age it will be better, she thought sadly. If I can get through all the years between now and then. She cried and prayed and asked for God’s forgiveness over and over, until she finally felt into an exhausted sleep.
When she straggled downstairs early the next morning, Jessie was waiting in the kitchen with Hester. Camille wanted desperately to turn around and race back up the stairs.
“You look awful,” Jessie said, with a sympathetic smile.
Her comment was so unexpected, it made Camille smile. “I feel awful.”
“Did you get any sleep?”
“A little.” Camille poured herself a cup of coffee. When Hester offered her a plate of biscuits, she shook her head. “I’ll eat in a little while.”
“Holler when you’re ready. I’ll go dust the living room.” Hester picked up her feather duster and a cloth and left Jessie and Camille alone.
Camille sat down at the table. “How’s Ty?”
“About the same as you, I expect. He ate supper with the kids and me last night, but he didn’t stay very long. I saw him ride out at the crack of dawn with a pack horse.”
Camille set the cup down with a thud. “He left town? The election is only four days away.”
“I expect that election is the last thing on his mind right now. When Ty needs to relax or think—or when the world is closing in—he goes out on the range and camps. Cade said he stayed out there for weeks after Amanda and the baby died, but since then he only goes for a few days at a time.”
“At least he can escape some of the uproar.”
“Unlike you.” Jessie helped herself to a biscuit. “You’re welcome to go out to the ranch with me if you want.”
Camille’s eyes misted over. “How can you say that after what I’ve been?”
“I know what it’s like to be manipulated by a worthless man, to be sweet-talked into a disaster. The only good that came from my first marriage are my children. What you did wasn’t right, not in God’s eyes or in the view of a lot of people. But you were the one to end it, weren’t you?”
“Yes. When I realized he wouldn’t marry me.”
“Then you did all you could. You can’t erase what happened. All you can do is learn from it and not repeat the mistake again.”
“Believe me, I’ll never make that one again.” Camille took a drink of coffee, debating whether to say anything else. “And the gambling?”
Jessie pursed her lips and shrugged. “Ty said your father was a gambler. He encouraged you?”
“He taught me and set me up in his place when he became ill.”
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen.”
“I’m sure you had plenty of customers.”
Camille thought she detected a faint note of bitterness in Jessie’s voice. “Never an empty chair at the table. I’d like to think that all of them could afford it, but that’s doubtful.”
“You aren’t planning to start up again, are you?”
“Heavens, no. I could never go back to it.”
“Good. Then that’s in the past, too. Dead and buried as far as I’m concerned. I expect quite a few folks around here feel that way, especially the ones who have had any dealings with you.” Jessie pushed back her chair and stood. “I need to go out to the ranch and tell Cade what’s happened. Do you want to come?”
“No, thank you.” Camille stood, too. “I don’t think your husband will be as forgiving as you are. I’ve hurt his brother. Cade won’t take that lightly.”
“He’ll roar at first.” Jessie pushed the chair back up to t
he table. “But I can calm him down.”
“I’m planning on leaving tomorrow. I’ll talk to Mr. Hill and then to Nola, when she gets home today, square things away with them.”
“Where will you go?”
“I haven’t settled on it. Maybe to San Francisco. I’ve never been to California.”
“Don’t leave yet. Give Ty a week, if you can stand to stay here that long. If you can’t, please let us know where you’ll be. I believe he’ll come around. He loves you, Camille. He’s been happier these past two months than I’ve ever seen him. Because of you, he’s finally healed from the death of his family. At least as much as anyone ever heals from something like that. Trust God to soften Ty’s heart and his pride.”
“When Bonnie found out Anthony was in town, she reminded me that all things work together for good for those who love Jesus. Ty and I both love Him, so I’m trying very hard to believe that, to trust Him to make it happen. But it seems impossible for good to come of this.”
“For one thing, you saved a lot of people from that swindler. Some have already expressed gratitude for that. For another, Ty knows your secret. Better for it to come to light now than later. I assume it was something you meant to tell him but couldn’t figure out how?”
“No matter how much I knew I needed to, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
“So God had to force your hand,” Jessie said quietly.
Camille gasped softly, holding on to the back of the chair. “He did, didn’t He?”
“I suspect He has some things to teach Ty, too. We all have things to learn, and my dear brother-in-law is no exception. So don’t go running off right away. Give God the time to finish what He’s started.”
Camille took a deep, steadying breath. “One week. If it takes longer than that, God will have to send Ty after me.”
Ty rode south toward the ranch but kept on going when he reached the road leading to headquarters. It was too soon to see Cade. He was too raw for a lecture from his big brother.
Cutting across the range, he eventually wound up at the top of a ridge and set up camp in one of his favorite places. This time he didn’t talk to Amanda. Somehow in the past month, he had lost the need to feel close to her. He had finally let her go, which only added to his emptiness.
He made himself comfortable, leaning back against a rock in the lacy shade of a lone mesquite tree. The land dropped steeply for about two hundred feet before descending more gradually to a broad valley. Antelope mingled with a dozen longhorns grazing in the grass down in the valley. A hawk soared overhead searching for its breakfast. A sparrow darted from branch to branch in a bush nearby, and a scissortail landed in the tree above him.
Gazing out across the vast land, he waited for the peace that always came when he was out on the range, away from people and the demands of town life. Today was no different, despite the turbulence in his mind and soul. The natural quiet and beauty of God’s creation soothed some of his tension.
“Maybe this is what I need all the time. To be out here where things don’t get so muddled. Don’t have to put up with people. Just ornery longhorns.”
He considered withdrawing from the election, selling the store and moving back to the ranch. It sounded mighty appealing. Folks wouldn’t elect him now anyway, not after he’d been so foolish over Camille. Harvey Miller would be having a grand time with that.
Who’ll build the opera house? Red could handle it. Ty would still contribute; otherwise they wouldn’t have enough money. But that was as far as his involvement could go, especially since Camille was a partner in the project.
“I should have known she had a man in her past. A woman couldn’t live in that situation and stay untouched.” He hadn’t wanted to see it, to think about it. If she’d just told him about it, been honest with him, maybe it wouldn’t have bothered him so much.
Later in the morning, Ty saddled Dusty and wandered down into the valley. He rode for a while, taking a look at the cattle, and following a little stream simply to see where it went. He found a small wild plum thicket. The plums were just beginning to form, so he made note of where they were located, planning to come back later to gather them.
Thoughts drifted through his mind unbidden, even as he tried to focus on his surroundings. It would be a sorry end if he got lost and died of thirst on his own range. What would he have done if she had told him about Anthony? He mulled on it as he rode back to camp, concluding that it depended on when she told him.
Unsaddling Dusty, he discussed the matter with the horse. “If she’d told me right up front, I probably would have kept my distance.” Dusty snorted and looked back at him as if he didn’t believe a word of it. Ty glared at him and lifted the saddle from the animal’s back. “You’re right. I couldn’t have kept my distance from her if I’d tried.”
He ate some jerky about noon and rolled out his bedroll, settling down for a much needed siesta. Lulled by the warmth of the sun and the peaceful surroundings, he slept for a couple of hours. And woke up crankier than ever. He’d dreamed of Camille. Her smile, her sweetness, her kiss. Nothing of her dishonesty or his humiliation. Even his own mind was betraying him.
Taking a small hatchet from his pack, he went in search of firewood. There was plenty of dead wood lying on the ground, but he looked around until he found a dead bush he could hack to pieces. Chopping it up and carrying the wood back to camp worked off some of his irritation. Enough that he spotted and appreciated the sight of the first wildflowers of the season.
He rode bareback down a trail made in earlier times by buffalo hooves as the animals had gone down to water. The trail led to a spring of clear, fresh water. Dusty had a long drink while Ty filled his canteens. Returning to camp, he fed the horse some oats and built a fire. Supper was a can of pork ’n beans, crackers and coffee.
And loneliness. He had spent most of the day at various tasks to keep himself busy and sometimes occupy his mind. Now he had nothing to distract him from his thoughts.
Deciding to read the Bible, he opened it randomly to the Psalms. Psalm thirty-two was at the top of the page, so he began there:
Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man unto whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no guile.
Maybe something else. He looked over at Psalm thirty-one, his gaze landing on verse seventeen.
Let me not be ashamed, O Lord; for I have called upon Thee: let the wicked be ashamed, and let them be silent in the grave.
He didn’t want her to be in her grave, just ashamed. He continued with verse eighteen, “Let the lying lips be put to silence—” That seemed appropriate. “—which speak grievous things proudly and contemptuously against the righteous.”
Well, he thought, she didn’t say anything proudly or contemptuously. And it wasn’t against me.
Are you righteous?
A shiver crawled over him. The thought seemed to come directly from God himself. “Only through Jesus. I’m not righteous on my own.” Ty swallowed hard. “But reckon I’m acting like I am. She wronged me, Lord. She deceived me. She’s the one who is wrong here.”
He decided Psalms wasn’t the right place to read tonight. He flipped over to the New Testament, the Bible falling open to chapter six in Matthew. It was about worshiping the Lord in private, not in front of others to gain their admiration. Ty figured he was pretty safe on that score, even if he was active in church and folks knew of his beliefs. There was a difference in living God’s way and flaunting it for the whole world to see. He did fine with that chapter until he reached verse fourteen.
For if Ye forgive men their trespasses, our heavenly Father will also forgive you: But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.
Ty groaned and slammed the book shut. He didn’t want to forgive her. He looked up at the heavens, spotting the first star of the evening and sighed heavily. “It isn’t so much that she wasn’t pure and innocent like Amand
a was when I met her. It isn’t even because she gave herself to another man.” That one stung, even if he had no right to be jealous of someone she knew before she met him. “Her not telling me about him hurts.”
He stopped to consider why it hurt so much. “Because I didn’t want any secrets between us.” Frowning, he rubbed the back of his neck. He certainly hadn’t told her everything about his past. About all the women he had known before he met Amanda, before he gave his heart to Jesus. “She couldn’t trust me enough to tell me. She knew I’d go off half-cocked in self-righteous indignation.”
It hurt because he had been humiliated in front of the whole town. “That’s the crux of it, isn’t it? The woman I love isn’t who I thought she was, and I found out when everybody else did. The upright, honorable Mayor McKinnon got mixed up with a woman with a checkered past. I’ve been knocked off the pedestal, smashing my pride. That’s what this is mostly about, isn’t it, Lord? My pride.”
Feeling contrite, Ty leaned his head on his bent knees. “Forgive me, Lord, for my pride. Forgive me for judging her, for hurting her.” Tears burned his eyes as he remembered her walking down the street the day before, head held high. He didn’t know how she did it. He was suddenly deeply ashamed because he had let her walk alone, and grateful to Ransom because he hadn’t. “She’s been hurt far more by this than I have. Jesus, please comfort her. Show her how much You love her. I’ve failed her, so I can’t fault You or Ransom if he steps in to take up the slack. But I hope I get a chance to redeem myself, or at least to help her.”
Still troubled, not by his own misery now as much as what she must be going through, he lay down on his bedroll and continued to pray. “Please keep her safe, Lord. Keep her in Willow Grove until I can make amends.” He kept praying until sleep overtook him, with his last conscious thought being that he would follow her to the ends of the earth to try to win her back.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ty’s first impulse Sunday morning was to ride to town and apologize to Camille, but he decided he needed additional time alone with the Lord. He had more fences to mend between himself and the Father before he went charging in to rescue the princess.
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