by Caroline Lee
Finally, Matthias let out a deep sigh and settled back. Joshua was still holding on to his shirt, and Abigail knew her hand was trembling when she reached out to brush her—their—son’s hair off his forehead. She’d come so close to losing them both, and she knew the knowledge would keep her awake at night.
“You meant it?” she whispered, still staring at Joshua.
Matthias seemed to understand. “I did,” he said quietly. When she worked up the courage to meet his eyes, he smiled slightly. “He’s mine, and you’re mine, and I love you both.”
“You…love me?”
He just nodded.
Abigail turned her attention to the glass in her hand, then quickly leaned forward to place it on the table.
I love you.
Should she say the same words to him?
Could she?
“I think…I think I could love you. I think I d—”
Before she could finish the thought, she felt his hand on her leg.
“No,” he interrupted. “You don't have to say the words just because I've said them. I don't mind waiting. I've waited for you long enough.” He shifted slightly so his thigh was pressed against hers, and Joshua’s back curled against her side. “All of you.”
He wasn't demanding anything of her. He didn’t even demand the assurance of her feelings. As her eyes welled with tears, Abigail knew this was another sign of his goodness.
“I was so afraid,” she confessed quietly. “Afraid you'd be like Cyrus. Afraid...”
When she couldn’t find the words to finish, she met his eyes through her own misty vision and saw the understanding there.
“You don't have to tell me. You don't have to ever talk about it, if you don't want to,” he said quietly, holding her gaze. “I know it must have been bad, and we can work together to purge his memory. But if you ever do want to talk about it...”
Holding his gaze, she took a deep breath, then another. And knew. She could tell Matthias. Matthias wouldn’t judge her, wouldn’t condemn her. She could tell him things she’d never told another person.
She opened her mouth, and—
“I killed him.”
And snapped it closed when she heard her son’s words.
Shifting quickly, she pulled Joshua away from Matthias’s chest enough so she could see part of his face. His jawline and cheekbone were taunt and red, as if he were holding something inside.
”What did you say?” she asked quietly.
His frame—so small for the responsibility she gave him, but so much bigger than she remembered—shook as he inhaled.
“I killed him. He’s dead because of me.”
Alarmed, she met Matthias’s eyes once more. Her husband looked just as concerned and shocked as she did. With gentle and patient hands, he readjusted Joshua so the boy was more upright in his lap.
“What do you mean, Josh?” he asked quietly. “Who?”
Without opening his own eyes, the boy reached blindly for Abigail’s hand, and she grasped it with both of hers, confused by his claim and wanting to immediately deny it. She wanted her baby to know that nothing which had happened was his fault—not now, not five years ago.
He took a deep breath.
“He was hurting me again, and I screamed for Mama. She came home then, and saw us, and got real mad.”
If she could’ve wished for anything, Abigail would wish Joshua’s memories wiped clean of those years. So many times she’d been unable to save him, and she’d never forgive herself for that. The terror she’d felt that day, coming home and seeing Cyrus’s fist raised above five-year-old Joshua…well, it still made her knees go weak. But the memory wasn’t nearly as strong as the terror she’d felt that morning!
Squeezing her son’s hand, she picked up his story. “We lived in a small apartment. I couldn't let him continue, so I hit him hard with a ruler. When he stumbled, I hit him again.” To this day, she remembered the heady feeling of power—the fierce angry pleasure—she got as she slapped him hard across the face. “When he reached the door, I screamed for him to get out. I knew I couldn’t let him touch you—any of us—again.” ‘
Slowly, Joshua straightened away from Matthias, still sitting in his stepfather’s lap, but on his own. He’d opened his eyes now, and stared at his mother with an intensity unusual in one so young. She squeezed his hand once more and forced herself to continue.
“He stumbled out onto the landing, and I was almost giddy with power. I hit him again and again until his face was bleeding. He was too drunk to fight back, and I remember thinking how horrible it was, I'd waited so long to stand up for my babies. But he turned at the top of the steps.” Remembering what came next, she paused.
But Joshua took up the story. “I remember my arm was hurt bad from where he stepped on it. But I don't think I'd ever seen him hitting Mama before. I was scared of him, but I was more scared of what he would do to her. So when I saw him raise his fist against her, I ran.”
No.
No, she didn’t want to have to relive those moments—didn’t want sweet Joshua to have to relive them. She let go of his hand and wrapped her arm around the boy, until he was sitting half on her lap, and they were both curled up against Matthias. The man covered her other hand with his large one, and wrapped his free arm around them both.
Abigail felt…sheltered. Cherished. As if Matthias could keep the bad memories from being quite so bad, just by being there.
She met his eyes. “I grabbed Joshua at the last second and pulled him away from Cyrus.” She hadn’t wanted the boy to be hurt any worse than he already had been, and Lord knows, she’d taken a beating for him before. “I think it surprised Cyrus, and he stumbled backwards off the landing.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and her gaze fell on her son’s hair. “When the police came, they said the marks on his face—the ones I gave him—were from his fall down the stairs. The same one which broke his neck.”
She’d been the reason her husband had died. It was a secret she’d kept to herself all these years, although Wiggie had apparently guessed, and never suspected her son might feel the same way.
Her shoulders expanded with a deep breath. “Joshua, baby Maggie and I moved into the dorms. It was our home. We were safe there.”
Matthias didn't say anything for a long time. Then finally, “When I asked you to trust me, I didn't realize how hard it would be for you. Thank you.”
Joshua’s voice was weak when he said, “It was my fault,” and rested his head against his stepfather’s shoulder.
Feeling helpless, Abigail cuddled closer to her son, trying to find words to convince him. “No, it wasn't.” Her heart was near breaking. “You must never believe that.”
But it was Matthias who replied in that deep voice of his, “Then you must never believe it's your fault. Promise me.”
She frowned and met his eyes over Joshua’s head, and was surprised to see him nod emphatically.
“Abigail, your husband was a terrible man. I know you know that, but I will remind you whenever you need me to. He was drunk, and his death was accidental.”
“He wouldn’t have died if I—”
“Hadn’t been protecting your child?” His hazel gaze bore into hers. “Hadn’t been protecting yourself? He was hurting Joshua, Abigail, and all you did was defend him.”
Her eyes were wide. Certainly, she’d told herself this over the years, told herself it really had been an accident. Certainly. But hearing it from Matthias somehow made it more real, easier to believe. Knowing he didn’t blame her or hold her responsible meant maybe she could forgive herself.
Maybe she could make that promise.
When he seemed satisfied she’d understood his words, he nodded again, then turned to Joshua. Lifting the boy’s chin with his fingertip, he offered a small smile. “And the same goes for you, Josh. You and your mother were protecting one another. Yes, you might’ve startled him, but he was a grown man, and you were Maggie’s age. You did not kill your father.”
&nb
sp; The two held each other’s gaze for a long moment before Joshua exhaled, and seemed to relax. What had he been carrying on his shoulders, which he’d been able to let go of, thanks to Matthias’s words?
The boy offered them both a little smile. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not think of him as my father.”
That surprised a chuckle out of Matthias. “No objection here. Let’s call him Cyrus.”
When all three of them nodded in agreement, Matthias chuckled again, and Abigail felt her heart lighten. With Matthias at their side, maybe she and Joshua would be able to forgive themselves, to accept what he’d said about it not being their fault. And if she wanted her son to understand he was blameless, maybe she had to admit the same thing.
Enough gloom for one day!
Dawn had come and gone, but church was still an hour away. Although with the excitement of the morning, would Reverend Trapper even have a service, or was everyone still at the schoolhouse?
Taking a deep breath, she forced a small smile along with the change in subject.
“Well, the fire was certainly…exciting. I guess we have to give up on both of our dreams.”
She’d said it in a light enough tone, but his lips dipped down when he asked, “What do you mean?”
Matthias’s claim, there in the road beside the burning schoolhouse, would be in Abigail’s heart forever. He’d said that he loved Joshua, accepted the boy for who he was, and had proved it. Words aside, the fact he’d plunged into a burning building to save Joshua proved he thought of the boy as worthwhile, and his own. But even if he accepted Joshua’s differences, that didn’t mean he was fine with having to give up his dream.
“Your dream of sharing the livery with your children, and my dream of opening a school.”
But he just scoffed and relaxed slightly against the settee’s back. “Don't be silly. We don't have a school building, but we still have a teacher—two teachers—and all the books you’ve got stored upstairs.” He shrugged, nearly unseating Joshua. “You yourself said that the livery had plenty of space. Let's just hold classes there until we can raise the money to build a new school.”
Oh.
It all sounded so simple when Matthias said it like that. She didn’t need a school building to hold classes, not really. It was summertime, and there was no reason she couldn’t hold classes outside, maybe in their house’s little garden, or even on the porch. And then in the winter, if they hadn’t built another building yet, perhaps in the livery where it was warm and only smelled slightly of horses and hay.
She felt herself becoming excited, and when she met Matthias’s eyes, was pleased to see the glimmer in them too.
“But when we re-build, let’s choose a spot outside of Mr. King’s influence, alright?”
Matthias burst into laughter—laughter she felt reverberate through her—and nodded enthusiastically.
Between them, Joshua straightened again, a smile already on his lips. “And we already have fifty dollars from The Black Ace!”
Matthias’s laughter turned to groans. “Don’t remind me.”
She pinched him, then smiled at her son. “We’ll gladly use that money to help build the new school, although we might need to put it in the bank while we wait.” She took a deep breath. “We’re going to do this.”
Her husband nodded. “We are. You’re going to have the school you’ve been dreaming about.”
“And your dream?” she asked almost shyly.
He smiled and shrugged. “Josh might like books more than horses, but that’s alright. A man’s gotta be proud when his son turns out smarter than him.”
His son.
Abigail watched Joshua’s shoulders pull back, watched him turn into a little man right in front of her eyes. He nodded solemnly.
“I think you’ll find Maggie would be interested in learning all about your horses.”
Matthias chuckled. “Yeah, I noticed that. Think she might want to go into business with me? I know she’s still pretty young to make decisions about her future, but I’ve been thinking about a big-ol’ ‘Blake and Daughter Livery’ sign. What do you think?”
And Abigail watched her son and her husband—the two men she loved most in the world—exchange a solemn nod.
“I think that would be a very good idea, Papa.”
She sucked in a breath at the word—a word she never thought she’d hear from Joshua’s mouth. Judging from the softening around Matthias’s eyes, he understood the significance of it.
“I love you, son.”
Was it her imagination, or was his voice a little rougher—with unshed tears, maybe?—when he spoke?
The boy burrowed into his chest once more, wrapping his arms around Matthias’s torso, but both adults heard the muffled, “I love you too.”
Abigail didn’t bother to stop her tears then. “I love you too, you know.”
Matthias’s gaze jerked back to hers, and when she saw the uncertainty in it, she nodded.
“How could I not love a man whose heart is as open and welcoming as yours? I love you, Matthias Blake, and I will forever be thankful to God for showing me that Bride’s Bulletin with your name in it.”
Well, God and Wiggie.
He untangled one hand from Joshua and reached up to cup her face. She knew she was still crying, but didn’t care.
“Are you sure?” he asked intently, the pads of his fingers caressing her ear and jawline. “I don’t want you to feel—”
She interrupted him with a smile. “I feel everything, Matthias. I love you. I will love you until we’re old and gray, and Joshua has taken over my school, and Maggie has taken over your livery,
and we can sit on our porch and play with our grandchildren. I love you.”
His eyes had grown misty during her speech, and she saw the love reflected back at her. “I think that sounds like a dream come true.”
This was a good man. Wiggie’s words drifted across her memory. “A man who will honor you and cherish your children.”
Well, she’d found him, and couldn’t be happier.
So she poured all of her love and gratefulness into her smile and leaned closer to him.
“I love you, Matthias Blake.”
And he exhaled, smiling as well. “And I love you, Mrs. Blake.”
When they kissed, they squashed a squirming Joshua in between them. When they kissed, they tasted of tears and laughter and sweat and fear and joy. When they kissed, they became one, forever.
A dream come true.
Epilogue
From the front porch, the setting sun highlighted all the best parts of Black Aces. Inhaling deeply, Abigail listened to the distant sound of children’s laughter, and wondered how one woman could be so lucky.
She jumped as her husband’s arms snaked around her middle, and she almost dropped the letter she’d been holding as his lips nuzzled against the side of her neck.
“Mind if I join you?” he murmured against her skin.
And as always, his touch made her shiver, but she struggled to keep her voice nonchalant when she said, “Not at all.”
“Whatchya got there?”
Smiling faintly, she re-folded the letter from home to slip it back inside the envelope. “Good news, I think.”
The girls remaining at the orphanage had been full of details about the children and everyday life, as well as updates on her fellow teachers. Who would’ve guessed Wiggie would play the same game with the other teachers?
Behind her, he shifted his hold on her until his chin was resting on her shoulder, and his hands clasped in front of her. “How’s Wiggie doing?”
In the last months, since the day the school had burned, she’d told him all about her life at the orphanage and the deal Wiggie had made her…and why. Still, she smiled as her fingers traced the address on the envelope.
“She seems to be doing fine. I still don’t know if she was telling the truth when she said she was dying, or if that was just a ploy to get me to agree to leave.�
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Had she used the same reasoning on the other teachers? What had she told them?
Matthias hummed softly, then turned her in his arms until she was facing him. “And do you mind terribly? Her ploy?”
“I’ll have you know I sent her a letter thanking her for manipulating me into coming out here to marry you.” She mock-sighed. “She’ll probably crow for weeks, me admitting she was right.”
When he smiled, her heart always leapt. “And did you tell her about the plans for the new school, named for her?” Matthias himself had designed the new building, which was to be constructed in the spring well outside Mr. King’s influence. “And how you’re holding classes in the livery until it’s built?”
“I did.” She smoothed her palms against his chest. “I asked if she’d consider sending the grant money at the new year. After all, the school has been established, per her terms. We just don’t have a building yet.”
He hummed appreciatively again. “Next time you write her, invite her out for a visit.”
“That would be wonderful!” She chuckled a little at the idea. “I know the children would love to see her!”
As if conjured, a pack of children ran by on the street in front of the house, whooping and laughing as they chased a hoop with a stick. Both adults smiled when they saw Joshua there in the midst of the group, yelling encouragement to the athletes. Despite the boy’s bookish nature, he’d acclimated well with the local children, and had made a few close friends.
Maggie, on the other hand, seemed happier with animals than the children of Black Aces. Now, she followed a few seconds behind the pack, calling commands to a trio of dogs—one with only three legs! The animals hung on her every word, and it was endearing to see her so happy.
“How’d she do today?” Abigail asked her husband, knowing the girl had helped her father after lessons were over.
“Pretty good.” He shifted until his hip was propped against the porch railing, and she was comfortable against his chest. “Maggie’s got a way with horses, alright. It’s a gift. I dunno if she’d ever be happy with the kind of job I had, and I don’t want her to—it’s long and hard work. But I had a talk today with Hart about her future. Maybe training horses he’s breeding? Not sure yet…” He trailed off, deep in thought.