“Bull, don’t punish yourself. You did all you could. She needs time to heal, understand we all still love her. I’m sure she’s afraid. You’ve heard the stories of how some white hostages are shunned after they’re rescued.”
“You know that won’t happen in Splendor, Luke.”
“I’m not so sure, Bull. If you’re honest with yourself, you know most will welcome her home, but some won’t. It’s the way people are.”
Bull’s blood boiled at the thought of anyone treating Lydia with anything other than respect. Still, he knew Luke spoke the truth. There would be people, God-fearing people who attended church and called themselves friends, who might look the other way when she walked toward them, maybe even cross the street to avoid her.
“I don’t know what to do…how to help her.”
“Give her time. She’ll come around.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Bull knew there’d never be another woman for him. Lydia was it. If she shut him out of her life, he’d go on living, continue his life as he had before he met her. But he’d never be the same.
“You have to believe she will. If you love her, you won’t give up.”
The journey home took little time with everyone ready to return to the ranch, especially Luke. Almost a month had passed since they’d left. Bull knew he had never stopped worrying about Ginny, the same as Bull couldn’t stop worrying about Lydia.
Nothing had changed between them. She stayed close to Sam and Billy, ignoring Bull and everyone else, as if they were the enemy. They’d rescued her, yet she acted as if she were still in prison, her tortured expression never changing.
Reining Abe around, he rode to the rear. He didn’t say a word as he nudged his horse next to Lydia’s, sending a meaningful look to each of the boys.
“We’re heading up front, Lydia.” Sam shot a last glance at Bull, a subtle warning to tread carefully.
“Sam, wait…” Her voice trailed off when he didn’t turn around.
They rode in silence for several minutes, Lydia never acknowledging him.
“We’ll be home soon. I want you to stay with me.”
Her gaze shot to his. “I can’t do that. We aren’t married. What will people think?”
“Everyone knows we plan to marry. There are two bedrooms. You can have one and I’ll take the other.”
“No. I’ll stay in my old room at Dax and Rachel’s.” She looked away, her face clouding. “If they’ll let me.”
He sighed. At least they were speaking. “Of course they’ll let you. Why wouldn’t they?”
Pain flashed in her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was strained. “I’m married to a Crow.”
“The hell you are.” The words were out before he could stop them.
“It happened, Bull. You need to accept it.”
“I do accept it, Lydia. I also know the Crow custom of ending a marriage with a simple declaration. You moving out of his tipi, leaving with me, is the same as a divorce. You’re free.”
“You don’t understand. I’ll never be free. Never.” She spat the words out as if they were garbage in her mouth. Kicking her horse, she rode forward, leaving Bull behind. When she reached the front, she didn’t slow down, riding past Luke, Sam, and Billy.
“Lydia, wait!” Sam called after her an instant before Bull dashed past him on Abe. When Sam started to follow, Luke held up a hand.
“Let Bull get her. They have a lot to work out.”
They all knew Lydia had pushed Bull away each day. Even when she’d fought nightmares and Bull had been the first by her side, she closed up, refusing to talk.
“I just want her back the way she was.”
“I know, Sam. We all do. Especially Bull.”
Bull didn’t slow down as he came up next to Lydia, grabbing the reins away from her, bringing them both to a stop. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I don’t know,” she shot back, tugging hard to pull the reins from him. “Getting away.”
“Away? To where?”
“Anywhere but the ranch. I can’t face them. I just can’t face any of them.” All the fear, pain, and anger she’d kept inside tore loose on a sob. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she bent over the saddle, allowing her agony to release through wracking cries.
Sliding off Abe, Bull pulled her off the horse and into his arms, carrying her to the shade of a large pine. Lowering them both to the ground, he cradled her in his lap, stroking her back, whispering how much he loved her. He didn’t even notice the others ride by several minutes later, taking a path around them, allowing Bull and Lydia the privacy they needed.
He could feel her fingers dig into his chest when she gripped his shirt. If he could absorb her pain, take it from her, he would. Instead, Bull settled for doing the best he could to provide comfort, praying Luke was right and Lydia would someday return to the person she was before White Buffalo swooped down on the ranch, changing all their lives.
After long minutes, Lydia’s body began to relax, her grip on his tear-soaked shirt easing. Looking up at him, her red-rimmed eyes spoke of the anguish she still suffered.
“You must let it go. Try to forget.” He placed a soft kiss on her temple.
“I don’t think I ever can. It was…he was…” The words caught in her throat, her body shaking at the memory.
“If you want to talk, I’m here, but you don’t have to tell me any of it.”
“I don’t think I will ever be strong enough to tell you what he did to me. Even the thought of him touching me…” She buried her face in his chest, her stomach roiling, remembering White Buffalo’s brutal treatment and what he’d forced her to do.
“Shhh, sweetheart. We’ll get through this…you and me together, Lydia. You’ll see. Someday, as we watch our children running around, this will be a distant memory.” He swallowed the ball of fury he’d tried to choke down, hoping the future still included Lydia by his side, living in his house, and building a life together.
“Dax, look.” Rachel held Patrick on her lap as they returned home from church. A group of riders approached from the opposite direction. “Oh my! It’s Luke and Bull. And they have Sam!” As they got closer, she could see the weariness on each face as they spotted the wagon and waved. Then her gaze landed on Lydia. She didn’t look toward her and Dax, her eyes fixed firmly on the ground as they approached the barn.
Pulling the wagon to a stop, Dax jumped down, enveloping Luke in an embrace the instant his brother hit the ground. Slapping him once on the back, Dax stepped away, relief clear on his face.
“I was about to send out a search party for you boys.” Dax shook each hand, then turned to Sam, pulling him into a hug. “It’s good to have you home.”
Sam didn’t break into a smile. Instead, his gaze shot to Lydia and Bull. “Thanks, Dax. I’m glad to be back.”
Dax’s gaze followed Sam’s, settling on Lydia. Her short hair and buckskin clothing got his attention, as did the look of total desolation on her face. He watched as Bull helped her from the saddle, gently setting her next to him, his body shielding her from the others. She even turned away when Rachel approached with Patrick. Walking over to Luke, Dax motioned toward her.
“Is Lydia all right?”
Luke shook his head. “No, she’s not. I want to get inside to see Ginny, then I’ll explain it all. It’s not a good story.” He tossed Prince’s reins over a post, then started toward the house.
“Hold up, Luke. I need to speak with you.”
“Can’t it wait until I’ve seen Ginny? After all, it’s been…” He stopped at the anguished look on Dax’s face. “What is it? Is it Ginny?” He stepped up to his brother, grabbing his shoulders. “Tell me.”
“I’m sorry, Luke.” He sucked in a breath, continuing in a strained voice. “Ginny lost the baby.”
Chapter Ten
Dax, Luke, and Bull sat in the study long after dark, downing one glass of whiskey after another. Ginny and Lydia slept upstairs—at least the men assumed they w
ere sleeping. Rachel kept watch on both women until exhaustion took over and she, too, went to bed.
Luke poured another glass with a shaky hand, brought it to his lips, then lowered it. “She won’t talk to me. Barely looks at me. It’s as if I’m a stranger.” He rolled the glass between his hands, watching the amber liquid coat the sides before tossing it back, letting the warmth slide down his throat. “She kept telling me she’s sorry.”
Bull’s head still spun from the news about Ginny. He never dreamed another tragedy could hit the people of Redemption’s Edge so soon. His already shredded heart ached for his friend. They’d wanted a family, tried for a baby since the day they married. The impromptu party the men had thrown for Luke when he announced Ginny’s pregnancy was still fresh in Bull’s mind. The huge smile and joy on his friend’s face. Bull glanced up, seeing a man as broken as him.
Dax looked between them. The news about Lydia had shocked them all. She’d given up a great deal to rescue her brother and Mal, sparing the others a confrontation with the Crow warriors. Although he didn’t agree with what she did, he admired her courage. Sipping on his whiskey, Dax sighed at the way life had changed for everyone in the matter of a few weeks.
“Ginny’s strong, Luke. Given enough time, she’ll learn to live with what happened and continue on, the same as Lydia will. Doc said he sees no reason you can’t still have children.” Dax sounded more confident than he felt.
“Rachel said she was with Ginny when the pains began.”
“It happened fast. I rode in, took one look at Ginny, and started for town. We had her at Doc’s within an hour of the first pains. I thought the baby had a chance, but...” His voice faltered. He’d do anything to change the outcome.
“It’s nobody’s fault, Dax. Don’t go blaming yourself. I don’t.” Luke tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair over and over until the tips felt raw. The peace he expected upon returning to the ranch eluded him, replaced by unimaginable loss and sorrow. Letting out a pained growl, he stood, pacing to the window. Staring out at the starry sky, Luke remembered the night Ginny had told him she was with child. He’d picked her up, twirling her around, her laughter filling the air. They’d been so thrilled, so confident all would go well.
“Doc said depression is normal after a miscarriage. It could take weeks or months for Ginny to get over the loss.” Dax leaned back in his chair, his intent look focused on Luke. “He said for you to talk to him when you returned. I think it’s a good idea.”
Luke spun around, his eyes flashing. “You don’t think I can handle what happened?”
“I think you can use all the information available to help Ginny.” Dax stood, walking to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Doc’s willing to help. Accept his offer, Luke.”
Bull tried to relax against the back of the large leather chair as he listened. Luke and his situation were similar, yet so different. Both women were smart and strong, willing to put up with the hard life on the frontier. He knew Ginny loved Luke with all she had, and Bull believed Lydia still loved him in the same way. The two separate events had brought all four to their knees, forcing them to face tough realities.
“Bull, you know Rachel and I will do all we can to help you and Lydia. Whatever you need—anything—just let us know.”
Nodding, Bull stood. “I appreciate it, Dax. The best I can do right now is allow her time to rest, and be there for her.” Shrugging, he inhaled a deep breath. “Maybe Rachel will be able to get her to talk. I haven’t been able to.”
“You’re who she needs, Bull. Someday she’ll realize it and you’ll be waiting.”
One day led into the next, little changing as both Ginny and Lydia fought their own internal demons. Luke spoke to Doc Worthington, reaffirming his understanding about how often miscarriages occurred. It didn’t matter if you lived in a city or on the frontier, problems during pregnancy were common.
“I saw nothing that had me concerned or told me she couldn’t have a child, Luke. For whatever reason, this pregnancy wasn’t meant to be. There’s no reason you can’t have the family you want.” Doc Worthington sipped his coffee, cradling the cup in both hands. He wouldn’t tell Luke what Ginny had said right after learning she’d lost the baby. Her heart-wrenching sobs, her fear Luke would think she’d failed him. “That doesn’t mean it will be easy for her to get over the emotional effects of losing a child. The instant a couple learns they’re having a baby, it’s normal for them to visualize the child, begin to see the boy or girl in their life. I know Rachel had been helping her prepare a room and sew clothes. A pregnancy of a few months can create the same sense of loss as one lasting much longer.”
“How long, Doc?” Luke sat forward in his chair, ignoring his cooling coffee.
Worthington cocked his head. “Until she is herself again?”
Luke nodded.
“Some women recover more quickly than others. It can span from days to weeks or months. In a very few cases, the woman never recovers and gives up. I don’t see that happening with Ginny.” Setting his cup on a nearby table, Doc rested his arms on his knees, leaning forward. “It’s been less than two weeks. Rachel says Ginny’s eating better and resting. Both are good signs. Has she talked to you at all?”
“Only to say she’s sorry. She won’t look at me, as if seeing my face is too painful.”
“Her response isn’t unusual, Luke. She will get over the pain as long as you’re there for her. Ginny needs to know she can count on you, and your feelings haven’t changed.”
“Nothing will change my love for her. Even if we’re never able to have children, I’ll still love her just as much.”
The doctor rested his hands on his knees and pushed up. “You’re a good man, Luke. Ginny knows this. Time and love can heal many things.”
“I hope this is one of them.”
Luke rode home, considering Doc’s words, thankful he’d taken his brother’s advice and spoken to him. Each night, he’d slept alongside Ginny, offering whatever comfort she’d accept. He’d woken more than once to the sound of her quiet weeping, his heart breaking with each sob. She never spoke, other than to repeat how sorry she was about losing the baby. His response was always the same—he loved her and would never leave. In time, he hoped she’d be able to talk about trying again.
“Dax asked me to ride with him to the Frey ranch. Hiram and Frank seem to be serious about selling, but Dax wanted to wait to talk with them until I got back.” Luke spoke to Bull as they saddled their horses. “Are you fine doing the branding without me?”
Bull snorted. “I believe me and the boys might be able to handle it without you.”
“Yeah, I guess you can.” Luke shook his head at the ridiculous question. “Dirk’s going to work with some of the men on the eastern border. Apparently, we’ve been missing some cattle since he separated the herd after we returned. He’s trying to determine if they’re straying or if they’re being stolen.”
“I spoke to Gabe and Cash yesterday when I went for supplies. They didn’t mention anything about rustlers. It’s probably strays,” Bull guessed. The sheriff, Gabe Evans, or his deputies, Cash Coulter and Beau Davis, were the first people notified when rustling occurred anywhere near Splendor.
“I’m thinking the same.” Luke swung into the saddle, almost ready to ride out. “They say anything about how Beau’s doing since Caroline left for San Francisco?”
“As you’d expect. He’s taking it pretty hard, spending his nights at either the Dixie or the Wild Rose. He received a telegram from her after she found a place to stay. Cash said that’s when her leaving became real to Beau.” Swinging up on Abe, Bull rode with Luke to the house, where Dax waited. “Guess the next time we speak, you’ll be the owners of the Frey ranch.”
“Could be.” Dax reined his horse toward Bull, his mouth twisting into a smile, a brow arching. “Could very well be.”
Rachel worked alongside Tat, mucking out stalls and spreading clean straw while Johnny stayed in the house, kee
ping watch on Lydia and Ginny. On a normal day, the two would’ve ridden off with Bull or Dirk to help with the herd. These days, nothing was normal. Since Lydia returned, the entire ranch had been on alert, anticipating White Buffalo attempting to reclaim her. Dax and Luke had gone as far as to hire three extra men, stationing them as lookouts on the north and east borders of the ranch.
“You don’t need to be out here with me, Mrs. MacLaren. I can take care of this.” Tat leaned on the handle of the shovel, swiping a shirtsleeve across his brow.
The weather had turned from a comfortable warmth to unseasonably hot, turning the barn into an oven. The faster the work got done, the faster the two of them could return to the comfort of the tree-shaded house.
Spreading another handful of straw on the floor of one stall, she wiped her hands and crossed her arms. “Tat, I’ve asked you several times to call me Rachel. As far as leaving you to finish alone, two of us will finish more quickly than one.”
Picking up another handful of straw, she debated whether or not to ask Tat what had been on her mind for days. She couldn’t ask Luke, Bull, Sam, or Billy. All four were too close to Lydia to separate their own feelings from what happened.
“What do the men say about what Lydia did? Does anyone seem to have an issue with it?”
Tat’s motions stilled. Straightening, he set the shovel aside, taking the ladle from a nearby bucket to scoop out some water. Taking a sip, pouring the rest over his neck, he looked at Rachel.
“No one has a bad word to say about Miss Lydia. Fact is, the men think she’s about the bravest person they know, what with trading herself for Sam and Mal.” Grabbing the shovel, he continued his work, his mind back on the task.
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