He was her friend, and thank God for that. After four hours of mental anguish, Ruth gathered up her blanket and pillow, crept outside, and did go down the stairs to the still-empty fruit cellar. The room was cool and dark and blessedly private. Spreading out her comforter, Ruth sat down and, burying her face in her pillow, cried and cried and cried. She’d worn a new dress for him. She was such a fool. Finally, she fell into an exhausted sleep.
Ella did her best to give Hettie time, but when several days came and went and still she’d said nothing about the husband waiting at the hotel in town, she nearly forced the issue, but Mama told her to wait.
“How long? I don’t think Dr. Gates is going to just sit at that hotel forever.”
Mama shrugged. “Maybe he’ll wait longer than you think. By now he’s probably heard that his wife is staying with those crazy women out at Four Corners. I doubt he wants to be the next man hauled into town tied to a kitchen chair. I suspect he’ll wait at least a few more days.”
Mama was right. There was no word from Dr. Gates, and after supper on Monday, Hettie was finally ready to talk. She asked Jackson to give them privacy, and once he’d gone outside, she took a deep breath and said, “Y-you all know my husband is—was—” She broke off. “My husband is a physician.”
“You ain’t a widow?” Sally blurted out.
Hettie looked at Ella. “You didn’t tell them what happened in town?”
“It wasn’t my place,” Ella said. “Everyone was ready to leave anyway. I just said you weren’t feeling well and we needed to get you home.”
Hettie looked at Ruth, glanced around the table, then back at Ruth. “And you haven’t told…the rest.”
“Of course not. I gave you my word.” She pressed her lips together and looked away.
“You ain’t a widow,” Sally repeated.
Hettie shook her head. “No.” She gulped. Glanced around the table again. “And I…I’m…” She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.” There was a collective gasp, then silence.
“I know.” Hettie sounded miserable. “I told Ruth about the baby out at the ranch, but I let her think…I let her think what you all thought…about my husband. And then Ella and Zita met Forrest, so they knew I wasn’t a widow, but I didn’t tell them about the baby.”
Sally stared at Ella and Zita. “You knew she ain’t a widow?” She glanced at Caroline. “Guess you and me is the only ones that didn’t know nothin’.” She shook her head, then sat quietly, chewing on her bottom lip and frowning.
Hettie apologized. “I…I’m sorry. I tried not to lie. Exactly. I just…I just had to let you all think…for a while…” She looked Ella’s way. Pleading, Ella thought.
“Do you want me to tell what I know?” When Hettie nodded, Ella spoke up. “Most of you didn’t see the hotel wagon bring the passengers over from the depot.”
“I saw it,” Sally said. “I just didn’t pay much attention.”
Ella nodded. “Yes. Well. One of the passengers was Dr. Forrest Gates.”
“Raines is my m-maiden name,” Hettie said.
“Apparently Dr. Gates has been looking for Hettie with some degree of dedication ever since she left St. Louis.”
“That’s why you were so interested in watching the trains come and go,” Caroline said with a little frown.
Hettie nodded. “But Forrest h-hasn’t been looking for me all these months. H-he’s only been looking since…since he sobered up.”
“Ah,” Ella said. “I didn’t know that part.” Hettie motioned for her to continue. “Dr. Raines said he’d already taken the train to Denver, expecting to find Hettie at her aunt’s home there. When the aunt hadn’t heard from her—”
“Aunt Cora?” Ruth broke in.
“Yes. I didn’t write her because I didn’t want her to know where I was. In case Forrest asked about me. She needed to be able to say she hadn’t heard from me.”
“So when you told me you were pregnant at the ranch, and when you said your aunt had ‘strong opinions’ about things, that wasn’t about your being pregnant at all. What you really meant was that she would have insisted you return to your husband—who is very much alive.” Ruth’s tone wasn’t exactly accusing, but it wasn’t sympathetic, either.
Hettie nodded. “But, of course, Aunt Cora couldn’t tell Forrest anything. So he started retracing his steps, stopping in every town between Denver and home, asking questions. Over in Cayote he heard about a lady doctor who was new in Plum Grove and who’d tended a rancher with a broken leg. S-so he came here. Hoping, he says.” She still sounded miserable. “I really am sorry.” She looked at Ruth. “What I told you at the ranch was true. I had bought a ticket all the way to California. I never even meant to stop in Nebraska. But then…you were all so nice.” Her voice wavered and she fell silent.
“So now you’re going back to your husband,” Ruth said.
“No!” Hettie fiddled with her glasses. “I can’t. Not now. Not ever.”
Caroline asked, “Does he know about the baby?”
Hettie shook her head.
“A man deserves to know he has a child,” Ruth said.
“Forrest doesn’t. He drank. He drank every day.”
“Did he hit you when he was drunk?” Sally spoke up. “Because if he hit you, he don’t deserve nothin’.”
“No…that’s not it. Forrest was never violent. Ever.”
“All right,” Sally said. “But a drunk don’t deserve a kid, either.”
“But what if he’s stopped drinking?” Mama asked gently.
“It doesn’t matter,” Hettie insisted. “We had a child. A boy.” Tears began to slide down her cheeks. “H-his name was Oliver. We named him for my father. He…he’s gone. Dead.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “And Forrest is to blame.”
While the ladies sat in stunned silence, Hettie struggled to regain her composure. Finally, Ruth took a deep breath and reached over and took Hettie’s hand. “It’s going to be all right. I told you that at the ranch and nothing has changed. You shouldn’t have lied to us, but you were afraid.” Ruth exchanged glances with the others. “We all know what it’s like to be afraid.” She squeezed Hettie’s hand. “And we’re still your friends. We’re still going to help if we can. But you have to help us understand. You have to tell us everything.”
Hettie took a deep breath. When Mama set a glass of water in front of her, she took a sip. “Forrest started taking Oliver along with him on calls when Oliver was only six years old. Barely old enough to know anything. Of course he liked being with his father, but…he was too young. I told Forrest he was too young, but he just wouldn’t listen.” She paused.
“Forrest arrived at a house one night—a confinement, except it was just supposed to be a routine visit. There and back, Forrest said. The baby wasn’t due for weeks yet. But suddenly he was involved in a difficult case. He couldn’t leave. He gave Oliver a book, but…you know how boys are.” Hettie took in a deep, sobbing breath. “N-no one even realized he’d left the house.” She shuddered. For a few minutes she cried quietly. Finally, she swiped at her eyes and blew her nose.
“Th-the nearest they could figure was Oliver was reaching for the dipper hanging on the side of the bucket and—” She broke off and closed her eyes. While the tears streamed down her cheeks, she managed to say, “That well was nearly two hundred feet deep.” She spoke through fresh tears. “I begged him not to take Oliver with him that day. But he wouldn’t listen. He had to have his little buddy along.” Her voice was bitter. “His little buddy.”
Handkerchiefs swiped at tears all around the table. Sally finally broke the silence. “Men have turned into drunks over a lot less than that,” she said. “He musta been hurtin’ something terrible.”
“I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to Jackson,” Ruth murmured. “One thing is certain. You’ve been through the worst loss a woman could ever face.”
Mama reached over and took Hettie’s hand. “I can’t tell you what to do. But I
will pray God’s comfort. For you both.”
Hettie took a deep breath. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you.”
Her hands caked with grime, her back aching, Caroline swiped at the sweat pouring down her face as she knelt to pick green beans. Laws o’massey, it was hot today. She couldn’t wait for Sally to finish the green calico dress she’d cut out just a few days ago. A dress that allowed for twenty-three inches of waist. Caroline would forgo her corset in favor of breathing.
She glanced toward the house, mindful of Sally’s furious pace on the treadle sewing machine. Hettie was taking a nap, although how that woman could sleep when it was this hot, Caroline didn’t know. They were going to have to can beans tomorrow, and that would be a caution in this heat. What she wouldn’t give for a glass of cold butter-milk right now.
A fly buzzed past. Caroline waved it away. Feeling a little dizzy, she worked to the end of the row, then sat back for a moment to catch her breath. Her throat parched, she stood up and wobbled her way toward the well. All she could think of now was a drink of cool water. When she finally got to the well and a stream of cold water burst from the pump head, she leaned down, welcoming the sensation of the frigid water dousing her dark hair. She straightened back up just as a scowling Matthew Ransom headed in her direction.
“I thought you were going to faint before you got to the house,” he said. “You can’t work in the sun without a bonnet on a day like today, Caroline. You’ll kill yourself.”
She ignored the scolding. “Did you find how that varmint is gettin’ at Sally’s hens?”
“I did. Patched it. He won’t be a problem at least for a while.”
“Well, I got almost all the beans picked. That’ll be a nice surprise for everybody when they get back from Jeb’s.”
“Certainly better than the surprise of finding you fainted from sunstroke.” He strode toward her then and, taking her hand, led her to the bench by the back door. Ordering her to sit down, he took a clean kerchief out of his pocket, went back to the pump, wet it with cold water, and brought it back. “Put this to the back of your neck,” he said, then got a quart jar from inside and filled it. “Drink,” he said. “All of it. I’ll finish picking the beans. You catch your breath.”
A few minutes later, he strode back, a basket filled with fresh-picked beans beneath one arm. “Set them by the well if you don’t mind,” Caroline said. “I want to have them all rinsed and snapped before sundown. But I’ve got a few other things to do before I get back to the beans.”
A new kind of heat set her heart to pounding when he smiled at her. “I could be convinced to linger and help a lady.”
Caroline forced a little laugh. “Be careful what you offer, Mr. Ransom. You might live to regret saying you’ll help.”
“Try me.”
“Well, now, let’s see…milk the cow, churn the butter, hem my new dress, knead bread…oh, and if y’all don’t mind, Jackson was just saying how he’d like his mother’s hundred sixty acres fenced before Lucas Gray brings his cattle over.”
Matthew frowned. “Luke’s giving Jackson some cattle?”
“Not giving. Just getting him started. They’ve got it arranged somehow.”
“I see.”
“Now, I know you don’t like Mr. Gray,” Caroline said. “But if you’d seen how excited Jackson is about those cattle—and besides, Ruth says Mr. Gray has changed.”
“Do tell.”
Caroline patted her neck with the cool cloth. “I’m just tellin’ you what Ruth said, Matthew. Don’t get all riled up because I spoke the name. I don’t want any part of whatever it is between you and Lucas Gray, and I already told him as much, and now I’m telling you.”
Matthew sat down beside her. Taking in a deep breath, he said, “I’d like to make it your business. If you’re willing to hear me out.”
The way he looked at her made Caroline’s heart thud. “I…I don’t know what you mean.”
He reached for her hand. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Caroline.”
It felt like someone had knocked the air clean out of her.
The reaction wasn’t exactly what he’d hoped. The minute he said, “I think I’m falling in love with you,” Caroline gasped and snatched her hand away. It only made him long to pull her into his arms, but he didn’t have the right. If he was ever going to have the right—or so much as a chance—he had to tell her everything.
He spent the next few minutes talking and thanking heaven she didn’t tell him to hush and get off her land. He told her everything: how he’d met Katie; how he’d cut in when she was dancing with Luke; how she’d chosen him over Luke; how he’d brought her out here and then failed her; how his anger and his jealousy had ruined everything; and how he’d spent the last few years since she died.
“And so,” he said, and swallowed, “when I plowed into Luke that day at the mercantile, it wasn’t for anything Luke ever did. It was because I’d spent years blaming him for the mess I’d made of my life. All those years of festering anger were in that one punch, and I threw it because Luke dared to smile at Linney.” He let out a breath. Caroline hadn’t moved. What did that mean? There was no way to know. He kept talking.
“You said Ruth thinks Luke has changed. Well…so have I.” He told her what he’d learned from reading Jeb Cooper’s Bible. “I’m still not sure how to articulate what happened that day, but I do know I’m different. I haven’t tried to put it into words until just now. But it’s…it’s like something rotten’s been scooped out of me.” He turned toward her. “Does any of this make any sense at all to you?” He couldn’t see her eyes because she wouldn’t look at him. But he could see tears spilling down her cheeks.
“I thought you might get mad. I didn’t expect you to cry.”
She cleared her throat. “Have you told any of this to Mr. Gray? About changing and feeling rotten before and things being different now? Have you said you’re sorry?”
Matthew shook his head. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
Caroline got to her feet. “You start the same way you did with me just now. Oh, you don’t say the love part.” She blushed. “But, Matthew…you and I—” She shook her head. “Everything isn’t clean and new. Not until you make it right with Lucas Gray. You have to know that. You have to talk to him. You at least have to try.”
“You’re right.” He swallowed. “Do you think once I’ve done that—”
“You’ve got to do what’s right just because it’s right. Not because of me.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve been married to a coward, Matthew. I don’t know if I want to marry again, but one thing is sure. I will never knowingly walk into the space between two men who don’t have the courage to step over their egos and fix something worth fixing.” Tears gathered in her eyes again. “When I married Basil, my family disowned me. I thought they’d forgive me someday. I was so sure they would.” Her voice wavered. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “Maybe they would have, if all three of my beautiful, intelligent brothers hadn’t died in the war.”
How Matthew longed to reach out to her. But he didn’t.
She sniffed and took a deep breath. “I’ve got no family in my life, Matthew. These ladies here at Four Corners are my family now. Having my first family disown me—that was my doing, and I have to live with it. But you have a chance to get your family back. To my mind, that is a treasure worth fighting for.”
She paused. “I’ll handle the churning and milking and such,” she said. “I think you’ve got more important things to tend to, don’t you?”
When he nodded, she laid one palm against his cheek. He closed his eyes, hoping there would be more, but there wasn’t. There was, however, reason to hope. “You be careful on your way to the ranch. We’ve been talking about having a harvest dance out here at Four Corners, and I have a particular fondness for waltzing beneath the stars with men who make my tender li’l Tennessee heart pound.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
&nbs
p; Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.
HEBREWS 11:1
S-so,” Hettie said. “I know it’s not what you want. But it’s the best I can do right now.” She’d agreed to come into town and talk, but now, as she sat back in her chair at the dining hall table and waited for Forrest to respond, her resolve wavered about what she was proposing. Zita said God would reward obedience, but Hettie wasn’t sure of that, either. Linney Ransom stopped by and poured coffee into their half-empty mugs. Neither of them had eaten a thing. They handed over their plates.
After an eternity of contemplating the cup of coffee before him, Forrest let out a long, slow breath. “All right, Hettie. If that’s what you want.”
A family came in the front door, their child skipping alongside them jabbering in what Hettie thought might be Swedish…she wasn’t sure. She only knew the child was about Oliver’s age, and the sight of him tore at her heart. She swallowed. “I don’t know what I want. I just know what I don’t want.
I don’t want to ever see that house again. And I don’t want to leave my friends.” The family sat down, and Linney hurried over to them with a bright smile. “And I don’t want to feel this way forever. Zita says I won’t. She says I should have faith that things can be better between us.” She glanced at Forrest and then away. “Zita says I should give us time, and she’s one of the wisest people I’ve ever known. I think I should listen to her.”
Forrest closed his eyes for a moment and sighed before saying, “But you aren’t willing to listen to me. To believe I’m telling you the truth when I say the drinking is done.”
“I did listen. I just…I can’t go off with you and be all alone again if you…if something happens. I need my friends. I need their support.”
“It’s asking a lot to expect me to battle all those women and what they’re telling you to do. Not that they aren’t fine women. That’s not what I mean. But they exert a formidable influence on you.”
Sixteen Brides Page 30