“Every time I held you, touched you—were you imagining it was your dead husband? Am I nothing but a convenient replacement for you?”
“Stop it.” Elle swallowed, trying to conquer the sob that was crawling up her throat. “That’s not fair.”
“Not fair?!” He barked out a laugh. “Don’t talk to me about being fair. I married you without knowing the full situation, and now I’m stuck competing with a ghost for the rest of my life while I raise his child. None of this is fair. I thought you were falling in—” He clamped his mouth shut, his eyes blazing. “You lied to me. And now I’m trapped with all of this.”
This time, Elle couldn’t fight against the sob that overcame her. Tears pouring from her eyes, her blood feeling hot and heavy in her veins, she shook her head. “Who says you are trapped with me? If you want me to leave, just say it. We could stage my death and make you the poor widower, if you’re worried about your precious reputation. Would that make you happy then? Would that be fair for you?”
They stared each other down for a long while. Elle’s anger faded into despair, and she began to truly fear that Duncan was seriously taken her proposals into consideration. She had nowhere else to go—no one to depend on. And the more pregnant she got, the less she would be able to move around in public.
Eventually, Duncan sagged and leaned back on his heels. He looked exhausted—no, worse, he looked defeated. “We made vows before God. Can’t go breaking them now. Like it or not, you’re my wife, and this is how it’s got to be.” His voice was wearied, broken. He sighed, bowing forward for a second before walking past her and exiting the house.
Elle jumped when he slammed the door shut, the following silence so suffocating that it finally pushed her to cry more openly—more fully. She brought her shaking hands to her face and wiped her oncoming tears.
The baby kicked her again. Sniffling, she stared down at her stomach. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her throat so constricted that only a wisp of air came out.
She didn’t know who she was apologizing to or why, but it felt good to say the words. “I’m sorry.”
***
Duncan sat out on the front porch’s steps for several hours. Even when he heard Elle blow out all the oil lamps in the house and go to bed, he didn’t move from his spot. He let the darkness conceal him and the starlight illuminate the flat land all around him. He stared out toward nothing the entire time.
At first, he didn’t do much thinking. He just let himself feel all of his raging emotions. He let his anger burn out, his jealousy temper down, and his sense of loss fade into the corners of his mind. The night was muggy, the summer heat ever present, even without the sun. It made him feel heavier, sleepier. He blinked sluggishly, a weighted numbness pressing down on him.
He did start thinking about things then…about the few letters he and Elle sent back and forth…about their eagerness to start this new life…about the lies of omission….
Now that his own hurt wasn’t as lively within him, he was able to admit that he wasn’t the victim in this situation; neither of them were. Neither one of them had fully known one another when they got married, both containing their own secrets…their own histories. He had just thought…they were working out so well together, and he liked to think that he was becoming her one and only. That clearly had been a foolish dream though. They had made an arrangement—an agreement—without being fully open with one another. Now, they had to pay the consequences. But first, he had to make things right.
Resigned to what he had to do, Duncan went back inside around midnight. He knew the house like the back of his hand, and he was able to navigate his way to the bedroom through the blackness. Once there, he could hear Elle snoring in their bed.
He let himself smile a little before he quietly got into bed next to her. Tensed, he didn’t move beneath the covers in fear of waking her up. Instead, he just rested on his side and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. As they did, he was able to make out more and more details of this beautiful woman’s features.
His heart constricted. Tempted to reach out and touch her, he clenched his hands into fists and closed his eyes.
He didn’t fall asleep until hours later.
In the morning, Duncan woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon. Smacking his lips together, he groggily opened his eyes and turned.
Elle’s side of the bed was empty, of course.
Duncan groaned and stretched. Once he was more awake, he got out of bed and headed for the kitchen. Last night’s resignation returned to him, albeit slowly, and when he found himself standing in the kitchen, he just stared at Elle’s back while she made breakfast. He felt stunned, as if their confrontation the day before had all been some twisted dream. He rubbed his eyes and tried to think clearly.
“Good morning?” she said quietly. She opened a cupboard and took out a plate before placing eggs and bacon on to it. “Hungry?”
Thoughts and feelings rushed through him, waking him up further. Clearing his throat, he said, “Look, I wasn’t completely honest with you either.”
She stiffened, then turned to regard him with a weary expression. Her grip on the plate was so tight that it trembled.
Duncan blew out a breath, his heart aching. He rubbed at his chest and forced himself to continue—to make this as right as he could. “My daddy owned a lot of factories in Pennsylvania. Hell, he probably still does. He always had a good mind for business, and he made millions of dollars in a matter of years. I was supposed to inherit all of that, but…” He lowered his gaze, her gleaming eyes seeming to cut right through him. “During the war with the south, me and all the men in my family were drafted. I didn’t want that though. I didn’t care how honorable it was, I never wanted to be in no war. So, the first chance I could, I ran. I went back home, took all the money I could from my family, and I traveled west. Here.” He shut his eyes tight, fear and self-loathing coursing through him. It had been a long time since he thought about his past actions in detail like this, and the pain of it all was agony. His eyes stung, and his heart shattered. “I’m not a good man, like you thought I was. You…you did what you had to. I did what I wanted to. There’s a big difference. And what I did ended with me being alone and miserable, and that’s what I deserved. I shouldn’t have…” He sighed, opening his eyes and forcing himself to look at her. “I’m sorry.”
Tears were crawling down Elle’s cheeks, breaking his heart further. Duncan nearly swore and walked out then and there, unable to handle all of this. It was too much. He failed her—worse than how she failed him. She probably wouldn’t be able to look at him the same way, and how could she? He was a disgrace of a human being.
But then Elle ran up to him and hugged him tightly, pressing her face against the side of his neck. Her presence, her warmth, her scent, her tears dripping to his skin—Duncan inhaled sharply, hugging her back with the fear that he was reading this wrong.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, her breath tickling his skin. “It’s okay.”
Duncan’s grip on her tightened, his head lowering toward her shoulder. Relief, confusion, hope—so many emotions burst within him. She rubbed his back, soothing him through it all. He nearly wept.
When she pulled away to look at him, Duncan marveled at the pure affection that shone through her expression. He had just explained to her why he was a despicable human being…how could she look at him like that? He let out a shaky breath, a few tears escaping his eyes. The hell with it.
“It’s okay,” she repeated, wiping his tears away. She was smiling warmly at him. “I couldn’t imagine ever going to war, let alone being forced to do something I didn’t want to do.” She flinched at her own words, and a new sense of fear iced through him. “That is another reason why I was so desperate to marry you so soon.”
Duncan forced himself to take a deep breath and remain calm. “What?”
Elle took a deep breath, too, grimacing as if her memories were physically hurting her. “After my parents found out I was pregnant with
Sam’s baby; they didn’t want me to have it unless I was married again. And the man they wanted me to marry is a sick bastard.” Elle’s lips quivered, her gaze darting about in a paranoid way. “Duncan, the things he used to do his wife and children before she died…” She shook her head. “I couldn’t let that happen to me and my baby. We’d be better off dead than with him.”
Nausea churned within his stomach, making him cold all over. The things he had said to her last night…bile coated the back of his throat.
Elle continued to run her thumbs over his cheeks as she wiped away more tears. She smiled up at him like he was a Godsend. “You are a good man. You are my blessing. I owe you everything. I should have been more truthful with you from the beginning, but I was afraid of your rejection. Of what I would do.”
He shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize. I should have—”
She kissed him, and he immediately melted into it. He placed his hands on her hips and kissed her harder, the need to be hers overwhelming. Though he didn’t consciously think it, he decided then and there that his heart would only belong to her—would only beat for her. If he had to share space within her heart for that to happen, so be it. She was worth it.
***
Things cooled down between herself and Duncan after that. And while things had never been difficult with Duncan before, being with him soon felt…easier. She wasn’t afraid to say the wrong thing around him anymore, nor was afraid to be honest about anything. And she could tell he felt the same way.
“You know,” he said after breakfast one morning. “I don’t actually care all that much about the upkeep of the house.”
Elle had been in the process of taking her dishes and his own to go wash them when he said that. Frozen in her spot, she cocked an eyebrow at him. “Really?”
He smirked and shrugged. “It’s just you and me here. And it’s not like we entertain much.”
That was true. With her pregnancy all the more noticeable, she had been staying away from people more often than not. Often, she and Duncan would go walking through the plains—tell each other random jokes and random facts about one another’s pasts. Now that she thought about it, it had been quite a long time since she had spoken to another person other than Duncan; she couldn’t even recall the last time Duncan even mentioned one of his neighbors or friends.
Cautiously yet curiously, Elle placed the dirty dishes back on the table and stared at them. “Huh,” she said, not feeling any different.
Duncan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Huh.”
She glanced between him and the dirty dishes. It really didn’t bother her to leave a mess out—much to her own surprise—but she got back to thinking about Duncan’s friends and neighbors—about entertaining people. She frowned at him. “When was the last time you’ve spoken to one of your friends?”
“Friends?” He seemed genuinely surprised.
Elle blinked at him. “Yes. All those people at our wedding…they were your friends, weren’t they?”
“Oh.” He scratched his chin, a contemplative look coming over his features. “Well, most of those people were townsfolk I had spoken with before you arrived. I don’t know them all that well—never spent much time outside of this house, to be honest. People tend to ask questions about your family, and I just could never bring myself to answer them, so I don’t really have any friends here.” His gaze lowered to a table, embarrassment tinting his cheeks.
Elle was still confused. “But then why invite so many strangers to our wedding? We only needed one witness.”
Duncan smiled sheepishly, glancing at everything but her. “I knew your family wasn’t coming down, and I figured weddings were important to ladies…I just wanted you to feel special—like the whole town had to be there to see you.”
Elle was so touched that she didn’t know what to say. After a few seconds of staring at Duncan, she walked over to him and pressed her lips to the top his head. “Thank you,” she said. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
She remained where she was over him, her hands massaging his shoulders. “So it really is just you and me out here?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes found the dirty dishes again, and she smirked with a mischievous sense of liberation. “Huh.”
The house got filthy within the day. Elle laughed at it from her bed, where Duncan rested beside her.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, stretching in his spot.
Placing a protective hand over her swollen stomach, she turned to him and grinned. “Nothing. I’m just so happy with all of this. I can’t remember a time when I’ve been this happy.” And it was the truth. Even with her first husband, their days were spent focused on working and surviving. She had never felt truly relaxed before; she never felt unashamed about her faults and her mistakes before. She laughed again, reaching out and touching Duncan’s broad chest. “We may be strange ones, but I like it.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. I do, too.”
Elle trailed her fingers up and down his torso. She felt him go lax beneath her hand, his chest rising and falling in a smooth rhythm. He was a strong comfort, so warm and solid. Just being near him, she felt safe. Better yet, she felt whole.
Nervousness and uncertainty made her bristle, and she bit her lip. Three words popped up in her mind—three words that expressed so much in regards to Duncan and herself—but neither one of them had spoken them before. She hadn’t even said them to her first husband, and at a time, she hadn’t felt the need to. But now, with Duncan…confliction wormed its way through her, making Elle furrow her brow.
“Elle?” Duncan said, tilting his head. “You alright? You’re making a funny face.”
She snorted. “Charming, as ever.”
“I try to be.”
A genuine smile graced her lips then, and she moved her hand from her stomach and placed it against Duncan’s rough cheek. “I’m just sleepy. The baby’s taking up a lot of my energy, the bigger it gets.”
“You can sleep, sweetheart. All day, if you want.” He laid his own head down on his pillow. “Makes no difference to me. I’ll go to the market later and get some things for dinner.”
Elle nearly said those three words then and there, and she barely managed to keep her lips pressed together. Nodding at him, she let herself sag against the bed. She listened to Duncan’s soft breathing—inhaled his scent—felt his heartbeat beneath her palm. In a matter of minutes, she was soothed and falling asleep with ease.
***
A couple more months went by, and Duncan noticed with a mixed feeling of anxiety and excitement how Elle’s belly grew larger and larger. Often, Duncan considered inviting a doctor to live with them until her baby finally came out. He had been near his parents’ bedroom when his mother had given birth to his younger brother; he had heard his mother’s screams of agony. Whatever Elle was about to go through, Duncan wanted to make sure he could make it as painless as possible. After all, it had been decades since his little brother had been born; modern science had to improve significantly by then, right?
“The doctor lives in town, darling,” Elle reminded him for the umpteenth time. “He doesn’t need to actually live here. He’s not far away.”
“Far enough,” Duncan muttered, his hand ghosting over his wife’s stomach.
Gently, she took his outstretched hand and brought it to her lips. “We’ll be fine,” she breathed over his knuckles before she kissed them.
“I’m more worried about you,” he said, but that wasn’t completely true. What would he do if something happened to her? To her and the baby? The panic these mere thoughts invoked would be nothing compared to the actual pain if he lost them. “I just want you to be safe.”
“I know,” she whispered, pulling him closer to her. She rested her head on his shoulder and held him. “I know. It’ll be alright.”
He held her back, and the two of them swayed back and forth like they were dancing to music. Not that he ever
heard of anyone dancing like this, but the two of them were fairly different from others. And he liked it. Hell, he loved it. He loved her.
The thought made him smile, even as his heart panged. As much as he loved her, he didn’t dare to dream that she would truly love him back. What they had now though…it was enough.
He buried his face in her hair and breathed deeply. Yes, it was more than enough.
Their front door was violently kicked open, making Duncan jump and Elle cry out. They both turned toward the direction of the little entryway and watched as a bulky, bearded man walked out of it and toward them.
Duncan immediately placed himself in front of Elle. Glaring at the intruder—his own shock still zapping through him—Duncan said, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Peter?” Elle gasped, grabbing Duncan’s arm and squeezing it.
Duncan glanced back at her. “Who?”
“Peter,” the bearded man said, stopping when he stood a few feet away from Duncan. The man—Peter, placed his thumbs inside of his pants and turned his head to spit on the floor. “Peter Abel. I’m her fiancé.”
While Duncan gave this very confused, rude man a reproachful look, Elle snarled, “No, you are not. I terminated the arrangement right before I left New York. I’m married now.”
“So I see,” Peter said, glancing Duncan up and down. “I’m sorry about this, sir, but I’m afraid that woman was promised to me. You have no rights to her. I shouldn’t have let her out of my sights as often as I did, and I will compensate you for your troubles.”
Rage seared through Duncan’s veins, constricting his lungs and making him see red. “Get out of my house.”
Peter’s eyes shined with pity. “Look, I’m sure you are misunderstanding the situation, here.” He pointed toward Elle’s face. “That woman is pregnant with another man’s baby. Not even mine. It was her husband’s before he got killed in one of those textile factories. Her parents gave her over to me to marry and make pure, and she agreed to it. She belongs to me.”
[2016] Widow Finds Love Page 15