by Carol Cox
Lizzie buried her face in her hands, and Adam’s heart sank like a stone. She heaved a great sigh and raised her face once more, still avoiding his eyes. “No, Adam,” she whispered. “Not in the way you mean.”
Adam tried not to let the surge of relief show in his voice. If she hadn’t been harmed physically, it was obvious that something had happened to reduce her to this state, and he meant to tread softly so as not to cause her more pain.
“Then what is it?” he asked, taking advantage of the moment and daring to encircle her in his arms once more. “You don’t go to pieces like this for nothing.”
Her brittle laugh shocked him. “Don’t I?” she asked bitterly. “You pulled me off of Willie just the other day, remember? And you saw that scene in my father’s office, as I recall. The one where I made a complete fool of myself standing up for T-Tom.” She managed to get the last words out just before her face crumpled and she pressed one hand against her lips.
“There’s nothing wrong with standing up for what you believe in,” Adam said, searching frantically for the right words to offer her.
Lizzie battled for control before she could speak again. “There is when what you believe in is based on a lie.”
“You mean Mallory—”
“Tom’s gone,” Lizzie stated flatly. “Gone for good. I was a fool, Adam. A fool, pure and simple.”
“No, Lizzie. Never that. If you had feelings for Mallory and thought they were returned, it was his doing, not yours.” Her silence gave Adam the boldness to continue. “Maybe he’s never met a woman like you before, someone who’s loving and good. He didn’t have the sense to realize what he had and treasure it.” His arms tightened around her just a fraction. “If anyone’s a fool, Lizzie, it’s him, not you.”
She tilted her head and looked him fully in the eyes as if searching the depths of his soul. She nodded slowly, apparently satisfied with what she saw. “Thank you, Adam. I believe you mean that.” Her lips curved briefly in a tremulous smile. “I’m only sorry I can’t agree with you.”
Adam’s senses reeled at the intensity of her gaze. For once he held Lizzie Bradley’s attention, and held it completely.
He held Lizzie herself, for that matter, he reminded himself with wonder. The golden hair flowed across his hands in a shimmering wave, and he longed to twine his fingers through its silken strands. Her breath brushed softly against his face.
Looking at the pale pink lips mere inches from his own, Adam wanted more than anything to stop their trembling with his own firm lips, giving her a pledge that as long as he was around, she would never be hurt like that again.
The moment held, then was broken when Lizzie drew back and scrubbed her hands against her face, suddenly looking more like a lost little girl than a desirable woman.
Probably for the best, Lord, Adam thought ruefully as he pulled back himself. If I started kissing her, it’d be awfully hard to quit.
He helped Lizzie to her feet, and after she took a few unsteady steps, he boldly scooped her up and carried her. She lay unresisting, a welcome weight in his arms. He reluctantly set her down next to Dancer.
“I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along, Adam,” she said softly, looking up at him through still-damp lashes while he checked the cinch and gathered the reins for her.
She laid a gentle hand on his arm and a wild thought jolted through him. After all the years of keeping his distance, to have her so near now was overwhelming. Could he dare believe she had feelings for him, too? His heart soared, feeling the first faint stirring of hope. Maybe now was the time to tell her how he felt.
“I want to thank you,” she continued, as he tried to marshal his thoughts.
“Lizzie—” he began.
“Having you hold me like that. . .”
Adam’s throat constricted and he could hardly believe his ears. Was she telling him she’d enjoyed being held? “I’ve been waiting for a long time for the chance to—”
“I can’t tell you how wonderful it was.”
Wonderful didn’t fully describe it for Adam. He would use words like heavenly or stupendous. This was going to be easier than he’d thought.
“Lizzie, what I’m trying to say is—”
“It was just like having my father hold me when I was little.”
Adam’s heart, which had been spiraling into the clouds, plummeted back to the dusty earth with a resounding thud.
“Your father?” he echoed.
Lizzie nodded, her earnest gaze fixed on Adam’s. “My mother was very ill when I was a little girl. A few times I got so scared at the thought of losing her that I just fell apart. My father would take me in his lap and hold me and rock me—just like you did—and somehow I knew things were going to be all right.”
“Your father,” Adam repeated.
“And Uncle Jeff helped, too, sometimes,” she added, summoning up a brave smile. “My two favorite men. I guess that almost makes you family, doesn’t it, Adam? Kind of like a big brother.”
Adam stared in silence, feeling like someone had just poured ice water over him. He shook his head, trying to clear it. You idiot! he scolded himself. And Lizzie thinks she built something up out of nothing!
He grabbed her, none too gently, at her waist, boosted her unceremoniously into the saddle, and handed her the reins. Lizzie stared back at him uncertainly.
“You’d better head for home,” he said, slapping Dancer on the rump. “I’ve got work to finish before dark.”
fifteen
Lizzie neared the ranch house, flopping loosely in her saddle. Her father would have criticized her horsemanship, calling it sloppy, but right now she didn’t care. Her world had turned upside down in the space of a few hours, and something as insignificant as her riding ability wasn’t important at the moment.
If she were being honest with herself, nothing seemed important just now. She couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d gone through so many conflicting emotions in such a short time. The hope, the joy that filled her life so recently, had given way to an aching emptiness, and Lizzie didn’t know how she was going to cope with that. She was only nineteen, she reflected. How could she exist another fifty years or so, feeling the way she did now?
How could I have been so blind? she asked herself for the hundredth time. I thought he loved me! How can I ever trust my own judgment again? The house and outbuildings came into sight and a wave of depression swept over her as she realized she would have to face her family soon. As if the humiliation she had just experienced weren’t bad enough, the hardest part was just beginning.
After all the fine things I’ve said about Tom and our “love,” she thought bitterly. I’ll never be able to hold up my head again. How could any of them ever look at her without remembering what a fool she’d been? Her father would hardly be able to wait to say “I told you so.”
Adam hadn’t, though, she reflected. And considering that he had seen Tom’s true character early on, that was surprising. But he’d only held her and comforted her and seemed more concerned about her feelings than her stupidity.
A tiny frown creased her brow. He’d been so tender and caring right up until she was ready to mount Dancer. Then he’d all but shoved her up on the saddle and sent her on her way. What happened? She’d only tried to thank him for his kindness, and it almost seemed to anger him.
She sighed. Apparently she’d misread Adam, too. More evidence, if she’d needed more, that she wasn’t any judge of men.
Dancer ambled by the corrals and Lizzie braced herself, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t meet anyone until she had a chance to pull herself together. That hope was dashed the moment she led Dancer into the barn and encountered Willie. With one sweeping glance he took in her distraught appearance and blurted out, “What happened to you?”
Lizzie pressed her lips together, wishing he would go away. He followed her and watched her begin to groom Dancer. “Where have you been? You missed all the excitement.”
“I’ve had enough excitement of my own, thanks.”
“Well, there’ll probably be more to come tonight, with all three kids staying over here.”
All three kids? What. . . With a start, she remembered she’d left her cousins in Vera’s care, not intending to be gone very long. And here it was, almost dark. Her shoulders slumped. It was more proof of her flightiness.
She closed Dancer in his stall with a flake of hay. “Why are they staying?”
Willie stared at her as though she’d sprouted an extra head. “The baby, remember? Everyone thought Jeff and Judith would be better off spending the first night with just them and the baby, instead of having all the other kids jumping in and trying to help.”
“Oh, the baby’s here? That’s nice.” Now she’d have to spend time taking care of the children instead of hiding out in her room.
“What’s with you, Sis? I thought you’d be as excited as the kids are.” Willie peered at her more closely in the gathering dusk. “You’ve got that kind of faraway look on your face, like when you’ve just seen Tom.” He perked up, visibly excited like a hound on a scent. “Is that it? Is Tom back? You’ve seen him, haven’t you? Hey, that’s great! I’ve been practicing, and he’s really gonna be surprised when—”
Lizzie stiffened under the onslaught of questions. “He’s gone, Willie.”
It took a moment for her words to sink in. “You mean he had to leave again? What for? When’s he coming back?”
“He isn’t.” Her hands clenched and released, balling the fabric of her riding skirt into a mass of wrinkles. “He left this afternoon, and he won’t be coming back. Ever.” Her throat felt thick and the prick of tears stung her eyelids.
Willie threw up his hands in disgust. “For crying out loud, Sis! What did you do to run him off—throw yourself at him?” The justice of that remark was more than Lizzie could bear, and she ran sobbing to the house, where she managed to evade her small cousins and barricade herself in her room.
Dropping to her knees beside her bed, she buried her face in the coverlet and gave vent to her emotions. As the sobs shook her shoulders, her heart cried out to God. I don’t understand what’s happening. I prayed; You know I did. Aunt Judith says You always hear our prayers, but what happened this time? I thought I heard from You, and look how wrong I was! You’re supposed to be the hope of Your people. You’re supposed to work all things together for good, and I thought that’s what You were doing. Now everything’s falling apart, and I don’t know how I’ll ever know whether I’m doing the right thing again.
She drew a shuddering breath and the question sprang forth from the depths of her soul: What’s wrong with me?
Footsteps sounded in the hallway and a rapid tapping at the door brought her to her feet. Mindless of the damage to the coverlet, she used it to mop her face and brushed her hair back with both hands. “What is it?” she called, her voice sounding strained and unnatural.
“About time you got back,” came Vera’s cheery voice.
“I’m coming to take over with the children,” Lizzie said, hurrying to smooth her clothing into place. She opened the door to find Vera standing there alone.
“Don’t worry about them,” Vera told her. “The little scamps finally wore themselves out and I put them to bed nearly an hour ago.”
“I’m sorry!” Lizzie cried. “I didn’t mean to go off and leave you so long.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve had to deal with rambunctious youngsters,” Vera reminded her, giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I just wanted to let you know there’s a cold supper waiting in the kitchen. There’s been such a flurry today, I decided it would be better to let you all help yourselves when you had a chance.”
“Thanks. That was a good idea,” Lizzie said, thinking guiltily of the extra responsibility that had been heaped on Vera’s shoulders this day. “Willie said the baby has come,” she ventured, following Vera to the kitchen. “What’s his name?”
“ ‘His’ name is Susannah,” Vera replied, chuckling.
“It’s a girl?” The news momentarily shocked Lizzie out of her despondency. “But Aunt Judith—”
“Was mistaken,” Vera finished for her. “But that’s not to say she isn’t thrilled. And from the way your mother described Jeff strutting around, it sounds like he’s not too disappointed, either. As for Rose, she’s floating on air at having another girl in the family. Says it’s about time things were evened up a bit.”
Lizzie’s mouth curved slightly, in spite of herself. “I’m glad for them.” Then she frowned, remembering what Vera had said. “Do you mean Mama’s back already? I thought she planned to stay for a couple of days, at least.”
“That was the plan,” Vera agreed. “But she said Jeff told her he’d done this with three babies already; he figured he was capable of handling things with this one, too. Your mother’s getting a bite to eat right now,” she said, reaching the kitchen door.
Lizzie stopped in her tracks. “Go on ahead,” she said to Vera, who raised a quizzical eyebrow. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
She leaned against the wall for support, and Vera disappeared through the door. There would be no postponing the interview with her mother now. She inhaled deeply and squared her shoulders. She was as prepared as she’d ever be. Time to get it over with.
Lizzie found she wasn’t prepared, though, when she met not only her mother’s inquisitive gaze, but her father’s and Willie’s as well. Her step faltered, but she forced herself to move to the sideboard and begin filling her plate with a calm she didn’t feel.
Abby, who had apparently been describing the new baby, barely paused to acknowledge Lizzie’s entrance before resuming her narrative. “She has Judith’s blond hair, and lots of it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much hair on a newborn! She’s quiet, too. Seems like a calm little thing.”
“That’ll be a nice change,” Charles said, grinning.
“Isn’t that the truth?” Abby agreed with a laugh. “They’re about due for a break. But wait ’til you see her, Charles. She’s such a beautiful baby!”
Charles regarded his wife with fond amusement. “I don’t know that you’ve ever seen a baby you didn’t think was absolutely beautiful,” he teased. “Is there such a child?”
“I guess not,” Abby admitted. “At least not to me.” The look that passed between them made Lizzie’s breath catch in her throat. It was a look that spoke of a relationship filled with understanding and trust. The kind she had thought she’d found with Tom.
Charles shifted his gaze to his daughter. “And what have you been up to? Vera says you were gone quite a while.”
The abrupt question caught Lizzie off guard, and she took her time answering.
“I needed to be alone for a bit,” she said quietly. “So I went for a ride.”
Down at the end of the table, Willie snorted. “Alone, right?” he sneered.
Charles’s brows drew together. “And what does that mean?” he asked sharply.
“Nothing—” Lizzie started to reply, but Willie cut in.
“She may have left alone and come back alone,” he said, “but somewhere along the way she ran into Tom and then she ran him off.”
Abby’s quick intake of breath was audible. She and Charles turned astonished eyes on their daughter. Charles’s face looked like a thundercloud. “You saw him again? After what I told you?”
Whatever Lizzie had imagined this scene would be like, the reality was a hundred times worse. “Yes, I saw him,” she answered in a voice that shook. “But it wasn’t planned. He happened to see me when he was on his way back home, and he stopped to talk to me.”
“Just talk?” The suspicion in her father’s tone made Lizzie flinch.
“Yes.” Only a few hours earlier, she would have bristled at the implication and leaped to Tom’s defense. Now, she found herself barely able to meet her father’s eyes. “He. . .he wanted to tell me he was leaving.”
“For w
here? What’s he up to?”
Lizzie closed her eyes. “I don’t know where he’s going,” she said. “I only know he isn’t coming back.”
The silence that greeted her announcement was broken by Willie’s muttered comment. “Yeah. Thanks to her.”
“What are you suggesting she did?” Charles demanded, turning on his son.
Willie shrugged uncomfortably, sensing he’d pushed too far. “I don’t know, but she must have done something.”
Abby laid a sympathetic hand on Lizzie’s arm. “Are you all right, dear?” Her tone was one of concern, but Lizzie could see the relief in her mother’s eyes.
Charles opened his mouth as if to speak but fell silent at a wave of Abby’s hand. Lizzie bit her lower lip, wishing she could control the quaver in her voice.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, knowing that it wasn’t true at all. After the things she had said and done—after being totally convinced she knew God’s direction for her life—she didn’t see how she could ever be all right again.
Her father seemed to sense some of this, for his voice softened when he spoke. “Of course you’ll be all right. You’re a good girl, Lizzie, and you have a lot to look forward to.”
Lizzie’s eyes blurred with tears. She wasn’t good at all. She was an idiot, a ninny who couldn’t trust her own judgment.
If she didn’t change the subject now, she knew she’d break down in front of all of them, and she couldn’t bear that. “Are the children supposed to go home tomorrow? I’ll take them back to meet little Susannah,” she said with forced brightness.
“That’s fine, dear,” her mother answered. “Why don’t you go to bed now and get a good night’s rest; you’ve had a long day.” Before Lizzie could answer, the kitchen door burst open and Bert stumbled inside.
Charles leaped to his feet and hurried to the cowboy’s side. “What is it?” he asked. Looking at Bert’s ashen face, Lizzie held her breath, knowing she was about to hear something horrible.
“It’s Dan Peterson,” Bert gasped, leaning against the counter for support. “He was coming out of Farley’s store in town and he was shot, right there in the street. Happened about an hour ago.”