Libby’s breathing accelerated as her eyes lagged into a glazed stare, remembering the gentle kiss Peter had given her at the door of her room. “I’d love to see your signed copy of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, if I may,” he’d said, wondering if he could come in for just a moment.
You see, I had boasted about the copy Mama had given me for Christmas signed by Mr. Twain himself, a former resident of Virginia City, so I was excited to share it with him. It was against the rules, of course, having a man in one’s room, so I wasn’t entirely comfortable with it, but one more kiss melted my resolve, and since there was no one on the floor, I said yes.”
Libby squeezed her eyes shut to thwart the rise of more tears. “I should have known when he locked the door that he bore no good will, but I was so infatuated that I never clearly saw his true nature until that day—when he forced himself on me …”
Maggie gasped, the sound harsh as she laid a gentle hand on Libby’s arm, shock lacing her tone. “He didn’t—”
Libby shook her head hard, spilling more saltwater, which she pushed away with a quivering hand. “No, although I have no doubt that was his intention because he muffled my mouth while he pleaded and claimed to love me, pretending to calm me down as he grappled with my clothes.” Satisfaction stiffened her jaw. “But once again, Providence stepped in.”
Maggie’s eyes grew. “You threw up on him?”
A bitter laugh broke from Libby’s lips. “No, but vomit was definitely involved. You see, Amelia came back sick, and when she unlocked the door and saw Peter on top of me, she literally lost her lunch.” The hard smile returned. “All over Peter’s jacket, which he’d haphazardly thrown on the floor.”
Maggie smothered a gasp with her hand. “Oh, thank God! And God bless Amelia! What happened then?”
Expelling a heavy sigh, Libby burrowed deeper into her coat to ward off a sudden chill. “He threatened both of us, warning if we mentioned the incident to anyone, we would not only lose our jobs, but my reputation would be ruined when he told his brother I had lured him in.”
“Oh, Libby, what a horrible man! What on earth did you do?”
Libby’s mouth compressed when she recalled the control Peter had wielded over her. Not only the fear of his retaliation, but the fury of seeing him ooze his deadly charm over other women on campus while he stayed with the dean and his family that summer. “I avoided him like the devil, of course, until Providence intervened once more. A student pressed charges for a similar incident, thank God, and I never saw him on campus again.”
“Thank God is right, Libby, because that’s twice that God delivered you from an awful fate.”
Head tipped in thought, Libby offered a sad smile. “He did, didn’t He? Although the damage those two incidents alone have done to my trust in men is irreparable, I’m afraid.”
Maggie paused, her smile sad as she peered into her friend’s face. “Not irreparable,” she whispered, “redeemable, Libby. Through both God’s grace and forgiveness and yours—”
“No!” Libby was shaking her head before Maggie could even finish, her revulsion for both Peter and the senator roiling in her stomach so much, it felt like she would throw up all over again. “I can’t, Maggie. I just want to forget everything about them.”
Maggie’s next pause was even longer, causing Libby to meet her tender gaze. “The problem is”—she gently rubbed the side of Libby’s arm—“you never will forget nor ever be truly free until you let them go.”
“I am letting them go—” Libby began.
“From your anger and hate.” Maggie’s voice was barely a whisper, but the plea in her eyes spoke volumes as it seared Libby’s very soul.
“I can’t,” Libby repeated. Her gaze dropped to her lap, the anger resident so long, it had become an iron shield for her heart, protecting her from any man who would try to control her again.
Like Finn.
“They don’t deserve it, Maggie—neither my forgiveness nor to be let off scot-free.”
“No, they don’t, that’s true,” Maggie whispered, “but you do.”
Libby glanced up. “What do you mean?”
“I mean your forgiveness sets you free, Libby, not them. And you’re right. You can’t do it, but God can. And more than can, He wants to, my sweet friend, because He loves you and calls you to be one of His own. And the really wonderful thing He tells us in His Word?” Her lips curved in a gentle smile. “Whomever He calls, He equips.”
Libby squinted. “So, let me get this straight. You’re telling me that even though I don’t feel like I can forgive those monsters, I can with God’s help?”
Maggie nodded.
“How?” Libby folded her arms, the idea of trusting God as foreign as trusting her father or Finn.
A secret smile stole over Maggie’s beautiful features. “First you pray for God to help you forgive them, and then you pray for God to bless them.”
“Pardon me?” Certain she’d misheard, Libby sat up with a pucker in her brow. “Did you say pray for them?”
“I did,” Maggie said with a firm nod, “but only because God said it first. ‘But I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you.’”
Libby gave a grunt worthy of Gert. “Whatever happened to an eye for an eye?”
Maggie grinned. “I know it sounds crazy, but it works, Libby, truly it does. Why do you think I agreed so readily to come to New York with you?”
Mouth tipping off-center, Libby offered a dry smile edged with sympathy. “Because of a certain cowboy who shall remain nameless?”
“Well, yes,” Maggie said with an emphatic nod, but even so, I never would have come back to the same city The Judge lives in if I hadn’t forgiven him and my roving fiancé.”
“I will admit, I was surprised by that.” Libby cocked her head, studying Maggie with new respect. “So, it really and truly works?”
“Yes, ma’am, it does. Even with Blaze, whom I’ve been praying for since we left the ranch.” Her chin nudged up with resolve. “And even though it still hurts, every day it’s a little bit better.”
Libby sighed as her gaze wandered out the window, thinking of Finn. “Wish I could say the same …”
“You can, because that’s the beauty of forgiveness—it purges the pain to make room for the joy.” Maggie touched Libby’s shoulder, drawing her gaze once more. “Finn loves you, Libby,” she said softly, “and you need to forgive him. Not just to purge the pain, mind you, but to welcome the joy of a love I believe your unforgiveness has denied you far too long.” She ducked her head to peek into Libby’s face, the truth of her words evident by the affection in her gaze. “Because you love him, Libby, and he’s your husband for better or for worse.”
A muscle convulsed in Libby’s throat as a groundswell of tears blurred in her eyes. “But what if I am the worse?” she whispered, wondering if she could ever learn to trust Finn enough to be the wife he deserved. “What if I just keep hurting him with all temper and no trust?”
Maggie skimmed a gentle palm to Libby’s hair, her smile like the sun after a gray and cloudy day. “You won’t, because this time you’ll be doing it God’s way, and when God’s in control of our lives, obedience is the key that unlocks the desires of our heart. So, first you pray to forgive Finn, and then you pray to trust him, and then you do the hardest thing of all.”
Libby tipped her head in question, face in a scrunch. “And what’s that?”
A slow grin eased across Maggie’s face as she gave Libby a voracious hug, finally pulling away to deliver a sassy wink. “You hop in the back seat.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Libby whispered a week later, palms damp as she and Maggie jostled in the back seat of her aunt’s carriage, bumping along the cobblestone street en route to the Grand Central Depot.
Maggie smiled, pretty sure that Finn McShane would dispel that notion rather quickly
once Libby surprised him by showing up for Thanksgiving with the family. “I promise you, Libby, this is going to be Finn’s most thankful Thanksgiving.” She patted Libby’s hand. “And yours.”
“And … yours?” Libby slid her a sideways look, the nervous chew of her lip a telling indicator she knew just how difficult this visit would be for Maggie.
Maggie managed a lame smile before she turned away to stare out the window, the smile quickly fading along with the passing cityscape. Yes, she was truly happy to see Blaze’s family again, and Libby’s too, but Blaze?
No, not even a little.
Because the truth was, her heartache over Blaze was still too fresh. Since they’d left Virginia City over two weeks ago, she’d prayed for him relentlessly, making definite progress in easing some of her hurt. Between her closer relationship with Libby and a nursing position beginning after Christmas acquired through the good graces of Dr. Lozier, she’d made great strides at putting her heartache behind. But seeing Blaze again and spending time with him and his family would be like ripping a scab off a scar that had just begun to heal, and the very notion put a pall over her mood.
Libby’s gentle touch drew her gaze back to the best friend who was now becoming as close as a sister. “It could be Blaze’s best Thanksgiving too,” Libby said quietly, but Maggie just offered a melancholy smile, well aware that neither she nor Blaze would be ‘thankful’ to see one another again. Because no matter the attraction or any commitments Blaze might be willing to make, Maggie had vowed to finally heed her mother’s words no matter the cost.
“Choose a man of deep faith, Maggie, for a strand of three cords is not quickly broken.”
“Maybe,” Maggie said, patting Libby’s hand, “but it won’t be because of me.”
“Why not? I truly believe he loves you, just like you insisted that Finn loves me, so maybe your absence has made him see the error of his ways.”
One side of Maggie’s lip crooked in a wary smile. “I doubt that. But even so, I made a vow on the train, remember? To embrace my mother’s advice and only marry a man of faith, and trust me, Libby, that isn’t Blaze. But hopefully his anger has waned enough that Thanksgiving won’t be completely awkward.”
Libby grunted and sat back in the seat. “Could be pretty awkward all the way around if Finn’s decided I’m not worth the trouble.” She rested her head on the back of the carriage with a heavy sigh. “He’s a man of faith, but I certainly haven’t been the woman of faith that he needs.”
“But you are now,” Maggie said with a proud smile, tucking one of Libby’s stray auburn curls beneath her feathered red velvet hat. “My mother would be so proud, Libby, at how your faith has grown in a mere two weeks.”
A twinkle lit Libby’s eyes as she gave a playful smirk. “I do believe I heard a chorus of angels singing when I opened the Bible you lent me, led by your mother as she shouted, ‘it’s about time!’”
Maggie giggled, the humor helping to bolster her spirits. “You know, I think I may have heard that, too, along with applause from St. Peter and the like.”
Libby’s grin softened into a smile as she stroked Maggie’s face with misty eyes. “And all because her daughter is a very good teacher, whom I am also blessed to call my very best friend.” Her manner suddenly shifted as she stared out the carriage window, expelling another worrisome sigh. “I just hope it’s not too little, too late. After all, I haven’t heard a peep from him via telephone, telegram, or letter.” Her mouth quirked. “And he certainly didn’t follow me to New York to try and change my mind.”
“I’m sure the election has kept him very busy,” Maggie reassured, “especially since your mother wired that Finn had won.”
“I suppose …”
“Grand Central Depot shortly, ma’am,” Alfred called from the front seat, and Maggie and Libby quickly secured their reticules. Both glanced out the window while the horse and carriage clip-clopped down 42nd Street toward the porte-cochère front entrance.
Built by railroad magnate Cornelius Vanderbilt, Grand Central Depot was truly a sight to see for both locals like Maggie and visitors alike. Maggie’s chest swelled with pride as she craned her neck to admire the mammoth brick, marble, and granite structure that presided over twenty-one acres in the heart of New York City.
The carriage stopped, and Alfred hopped out to help both of the ladies down. “Miss Libby, if you and Miss Maggie will proceed to the waiting room, I will park and deliver your luggage to the appropriate baggage room, then bring your tickets prior to boarding.”
“Thank you, Alfred,” Libby said with a warm smile, hooking her arm with Maggie’s as the two wove through the milling crowd into the massive depot.
The smell of coal and steam filled Maggie’s nostrils as she peered up at the massive arched ceiling of iron and glass, a 100-foot-high canopy over the largest train shed in the country. “Which train is ours, I wonder?” Maggie asked, the two of them studying row after row of steam engines lined up on tracks beyond an ornate wrought-iron gate.
Libby sighed. “I don’t know, which is why I’m so grateful that Alfred is here.” Nodding toward a huge section of wooden pews, she tugged Maggie toward the waiting area, carefully threading through the bustling crowd. “Goodness, this is a madhouse, isn’t it, though—OH!” Libby teetered on her heels when a group of six young boys darted past, one of them bumping her so hard, she landed right on her bustle in the middle of the dirty floor.
“Oh my goodness, are you all right?” Maggie bent down, hovering close while the crowd swarmed around them like so many ants, the ruffians long since disappeared into the noisy throng. She extended her hand. “Here, let me help you up—”
“OH!” Libby gasped along with Maggie when a tall gentleman hooked Libby from behind and swooped her to her feet.
Right before whirling her around and kissing her soundly on the lips.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
Somebody pinch me, please! Libby was too dizzy to care that Finn was kissing her senseless in the middle of a busy terminal.
“How ’bout I kiss you instead?” he whispered in her ear, and more heat blasted Libby’s cheeks as well as her body. Oh goodness—did I really say that aloud?
Chest heaving, she pushed him away. “What on earth are you doing here?” she said, hardly able to believe Finn was holding her in his arms.
“Showing my wife how much I missed her.” He slid her a wayward smile, disarming her with another kiss that stole any strength her legs may have had. She was limp as a noodle when he finally let her come up for air, his husky chuckle punctuated with a soft brush of lips to the shell of her ear. “Wasn’t sure how you’d react, Libby,” he said, “but something tells me I’m safe.” His mouth skimmed over to hers, luring a weak moan from her throat.
“But … but …” Breathing ragged, she jerked away, her eyes round sockets of shock. “How did you know I’d be here at the depot?” she said, squinting up in confusion.
“I didn’t.” He pressed a kiss to her nose. “As soon as I finished up with City Hall business, I hopped on a train to come get you. Just arrived and was planning to take a hack to your aunt’s when I saw you and Maggie in the crowd.” Grinning, he tweaked the tall feather that swayed above her red hat. “I’d know that hat anywhere, Mrs. McShane.”
“Oh, Finn!” She stroked his face, emotion stinging in both her nose and her eyes. “I love you and I’m so very sorry. I pray you’ll consider giving me another chance.”
His throaty chuckle melted into her mouth when he kissed her again, his strong arms jerking her flush for a fit that was simply …
Perfect.
“Does that answer your question, Mrs. McShane? I hope so, because I plan to take full advantage of that name as soon as humanly possible.” The dangerous gleam in his eyes softened into a tender look that thickened her throat. “I aim to stake my claim, Libby, so you won’t ever leave me again, so please tell me that’s what you want too.”
Unable to speak, she lunged to kiss hi
m instead, hardly able to believe he was actually here.
His chuckle was warm against her mouth. “I’ll take that as a yes, which is good because every mayor needs a wife.”
Libby pulled back to peer up. “I am so proud of you, Finn, and so very sorry I almost ruined the election.”
He cradled her face. “Actually, darlin’, you helped the election,” he said with a sheepish smile that quickly faded away, “but you ruined my life, Libby, by leaving like you did. I love you, sweetheart, and you have my word—I will never mislead you again.”
Libby stood on tiptoe to sway her lips against his. “And you have my word that I will do everything in my power to rein in my temper, discussing things calmly like a dutiful wife should.”
Finn paused, brows dipping low. “Is this a trick to pay me back?”
Giggling, Libby turned to nod at Maggie over her shoulder, who stood glossy-eyed, watching Finn’s and her reunion with a trembling hand to her smile. “No, it’s not a trick, but I do believe you owe a debt of thanks to this young lady right here who is responsible for a change of heart—and soul—for your very hot-headed wife.”
Arm still firmly anchored to Libby’s waist, Finn extended a hand to Maggie, his smile stretching ear to ear. “I knew I liked you, Maggie Mullaney, the moment your jaw dropped after learning Libby and I were still married.”
Maggie’s smile was shy. “I will admit it was a bit of a shock, Finn, but a good one.”
“Like this one, I hope?” Finn asked Libby with an arch of his brow, warming her with that teasing look of affection that had always made her feel so loved.
Libby answered with a soft kiss to his cheek. “More like an answer to prayer, Mayor McShane.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed hard, her head on his chest. “Oh, Finn, I have so much to tell you! Things I only just discovered in the last two weeks talking with Maggie.”
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