by Karen Kirst
Regret flashed across his features. “The day Doc Owens told me I’d be bound to this wheelchair for the rest of my life, and that I would be dependent on others for the simplest things, I couldn’t fathom being your husband. Or anyone’s, for that matter. All I could see was the loss of my independence, my manhood. How could I support a wife and family when I couldn’t even dress myself? I felt cheated. And I couldn’t bring myself to face you. I knew that if I stayed here, I’d have to watch you fall for another man. I couldn’t stand to watch someone else get the life I was supposed to have, so I left.”
“I wish you would’ve talked to me,” she said softly.
His fingers clenched on the wheels. “I wish I had, too. I don’t think it would’ve changed our circumstances, but you deserved to hear my decision from me personally. I’m sorry.”
Nodding, she scuffed her boot in the straw. “So you met her in Maryville...”
“I was still bitter over my lot in life when Laura came along. Unlike those around me, she called me on my self-pity, refused to allow me even an ounce of sympathy. She treated me as an equal. It was as if she didn’t see my disability. She just saw me.” His smile was quick and natural. He was content, something Rebecca never thought she’d witness in him again.
“Eventually, I realized I needed to let go of my former expectations about what my life was supposed to be like. I had to accept my new circumstances if I ever hoped to be content. Of course, this took me a while,” he said, and blushed. “Laura got tired of waiting and made the first move.”
Oddly, Rebecca couldn’t summon jealousy for Laura or resentment for him. That part of her life was well and truly over. “I’m happy for you, Adam.”
Cocking his head, he openly studied her. “I believe you mean that.”
“I do.”
“Caleb and I had an interesting conversation.”
“You’ve forgiven him?” She held her breath. If Adam withheld it, Caleb might not ever be able to move forward with his life. He’d be stuck forever in the cycle of self-blame.
“Of course. After all, I agreed to go along with his scheme.” Her shoulders sagged with relief, and his gaze turned knowing. “You care for him.”
“That’s none of your business.” Sidestepping him, she paced to the door and pushed it open but didn’t leave. The yard was empty save for a stray calico cat stalking unseen prey.
Adam turned the chair around. “Back when we were all friends, I suspected Caleb had feelings for you. I even found myself wondering if you harbored feelings for him, as well.”
Pressing a hand to her rapidly beating heart, she whirled to stare at him. “How can you say that? I was loyal to you, Adam.”
“I wasn’t questioning your loyalty.” He arched a brow, then shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain it. There was just something in the way you looked at each other sometimes. And after your crazy rescue of that kitten, you wouldn’t go near the man. I confronted Caleb. I thought maybe you’d quarreled. But he was as confused about your behavior as I was.” He kicked up a shoulder. “Anyway, my suspicions were confirmed the night after I proposed to you.”
“What? How?”
“He paid me a late-night visit. Not to congratulate me, mind you, but to warn me. If I didn’t treat you right, I’d have him to answer to. I asked if he cared for you as more than a friend, but he refused to answer. Just reiterated his threat and stomped off into the night. I’d never seen him that serious about anything before.”
Rebecca sagged against the door. Could it be true? Had Caleb experienced the same mysterious pull she had? More important, had he cared for her? Truly cared?
Looking at her former sweetheart, she accepted that what they’d shared had been an immature love. Like a tree with shallow roots, it hadn’t been able to withstand the fierce winds of life’s trials. That was why he’d broken off the engagement, why her pledge of support hadn’t been enough.
“I think he still cares, Rebecca,” Adam said. “More than he’ll ever admit.”
* * *
Caleb thought he might climb out of his skin waiting for Becca and Adam to emerge from the barn. His instinct was to barge in there and see for himself what they were saying. She was his wife, after all.
Somehow he found the willpower to stay away. He tried reading his Bible but couldn’t concentrate. Ended up pacing the floor, tiring his leg and driving himself crazy imagining their possible conversations—none of them satisfactory.
He jerked to a stop the instant she walked through the door. Closing it, she leaned against the smooth wood. “Adam’s waiting outside. He said you offered to take him home.”
Going to stand before her, he became frustrated when he couldn’t read her expression. She didn’t look particularly upset. Much more composed than when she’d fled the mercantile. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I apologize for running off like that. I didn’t exactly expect to run into Adam today.”
“I wasn’t thinking straight, either. Should’ve seen you home.” He shuddered when he thought about the danger she could have been in, alone and unprotected.
“We were both shocked.”
Unable to resist touching her, Caleb lightly skimmed his knuckles along her cheek. Her lips parted, and the tiniest of sighs escaped. Only the knowledge that Adam—her first choice—was waiting kept Caleb from kissing her.
“Tell me the truth,” he murmured, searching the jade depths. “How are you really? Seeing him with her couldn’t have been easy.”
“I told you the truth,” she softly insisted, wrapping her fingers about his wrist. “I’m not suffering. In fact, knowing he’s content and settled has actually given me closure.”
Her equanimity coupled with her admission gave him hope. Did this mean her heart was free? Could she one day come to care for him?
Care for me? I am the reason she’s trapped in this marriage. No doubt the chief emotion she feels is resentment.
Sure, Becca welcomed his touch, but that was likely loneliness talking. And plain old run-of-the-mill attraction. A spark had always existed between them, even when she’d been courting his best friend. Not that she’d ever admit it.
Edging back, he snagged his Stetson off the coatrack and shoved it on his head. “I’ve got to go.”
“Wait.” When he paused in buttoning up his coat, she clasped her hands behind her back. “What about you? Has seeing Adam again, speaking with him, given you closure, too?”
Unprepared for such a question, he dropped his hands to his sides and stared at her. “I know what you’re really asking. Now that Adam has absolved me of blame, you want to know if I can forgive myself. Shed the guilt. Am I right?”
“Yes.”
“And what if I can? Would you be happy having me around day and night?” He crowded her, need expanding in his chest until he thought his heart might burst. What was she doing to him? He used to be content on his own. She’d wrecked that. If he had to go back to living alone in the mountains, he’d surely go mad with wanting her, missing her. “Would you be willing to rescind our agreement?”
Panic stealing across her face, she held up her hands as if to ward him off. “You like solitude. You prefer it.”
“Do I?”
“While I don’t want you to shoulder the burden of guilt any longer, you and I should stick to the agreement we made. That’s the only way we can survive this marriage.”
Sorrow worked its way up from the soles of his feet. Hang the outlaws and the circumstances that had led him to her. He would’ve been better off if he’d stayed far away from Gatlinburg and the one woman who’d ever laid claim to his heart.
“If that’s the theory you want to cling to, darlin’, I won’t challenge it.”
Then he left before he proved himself a liar and set about changing her mind wi
th actions instead of words.
* * *
Caleb steered clear of the cabin the rest of the day. He didn’t dare go near his wife, not when his emotions were so near the surface, threatening to spill over at the slightest provocation. He could hardly believe he’d been foolish enough to fall for her. Rebecca, the girl who’d fascinated him with her zest for life, her ability to see beauty in the mundane, her compassionate nature. The girl he’d never been good enough for, not even before the accident.
He loved her. Even in the silence of the dairy barn, in the privacy of his own mind, the admission rocked him. Spooked him. Because this wasn’t something that was going to go away. He’d have to live with this all-consuming emotion knowing she didn’t love him back. That she wished him far away.
“What do you expect, O’Malley,” he muttered, forking a wad of straw in the last stall. “You’ve caused her nothing but heartache.”
“Talk to yourself much?”
Caleb turned to glare at his older brother. “What brings you here, Nathan? Surprised you could tear yourself away from that pretty little wife of yours.”
Perching his arms on the stall, Nathan grinned over at him. “Ten-minute intervals is about all I can take. That’s why I brought her with me. She’s in the kitchen with Ma.”
With a shake of his head, Caleb turned to his task. Maybe if he ignored Nathan, he’d go away.
“We’ve been to see the baby.”
Then again, maybe not. He didn’t respond, just kept mucking out the stall.
“When’s the last time you saw her?”
“I’m guessing you already know the answer.”
“She’s your niece, Caleb,” he said with a sigh. “While Josh didn’t come right out and say it, I got the impression he’s hurt by your neglect.”
Stopping to lean his weight on the pitchfork handle, he snapped, “As soon as Tate’s killers are caught, I’m leaving. You know that. So you can understand why I’m reluctant to play the part of the doting uncle.”
“You don’t have to leave. You can choose to stay here with the family, who needs you. That includes your wife and sister-in-law.”
His fingers tightened around the handle. “Actually, I do have to leave. I made a promise to my wife that I aim to honor.”
“Why don’t you talk to her?” Nathan entreated. “She may have had a change of heart.”
“I have. And she made it perfectly clear that she wants me gone.”
Looking decidedly unhappy, Nathan pushed away from the stall. “I’m sorry, Caleb. I had hoped...”
“Yeah. Me, too,” he admitted. “But it’s not to be.”
After a constrained silence, Nathan jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Why don’t you have dessert with us? Ma made pie.”
“I’m not in the mood for company.”
Frowning, he turned and walked toward the double doors. “I’ll be praying for you, brother.”
Grateful, he nodded his thanks. He hoped God would have mercy on him and banish these feelings. That was the only way he’d survive leaving her. “Tell Sophie I said hi.”
“Will do.”
Losing himself in his work, he trudged home at half past eight, his empty stomach growling in protest. Should’ve stopped to eat hours ago. Hadn’t been able to face the thought of another strained meal with Becca, however.
On the porch, he hesitated. “God, give me strength.”
The fact that Becca was sitting on the sofa facing the door immediately struck him as wrong. Warning prickles pinched the skin between his shoulder blades.
“Caleb—”
The strangled note in her voice, the stark fear in her eyes, registered the same time he became aware of their visitors.
“Well, if it ain’t our witness,” a burly man with shorn brown hair snarled from his position in the kitchen. The revolver in his hand was pointed straight at Caleb’s chest. “Took your time comin’ home, didn’t ya? We’ve enjoyed gettin’ to know your wife while we waited.”
Nausea swirled. Fists clenching, his gaze slammed to Becca’s paper-white face. Her wrists were bound with thick rope, and he could see the reddened, chafed skin beneath it. He did a rapid inventory—her hair wasn’t mussed and her dress didn’t appear wrinkled. There were no other marks on her exposed skin.
A second man, short and slender, moved from his spot in the corner to stand directly behind her, gun barrel glinting in the low firelight. “She’s not much of a talker.” His hand encircled her neck, and she flinched.
Lunging across the coffee table, Caleb landed on the cushion beside her and shoved the man in the chest, knocking him into the wall.
“Do that again, and I’ll shoot you in the other leg.” The man from the kitchen was suddenly looming over them, menace twisting his craggy features.
“What’s stopping you?” Caleb growled, muscles trembling with fury.
“Please don’t,” Becca whispered in his ear. “I’m okay.”
“Well, you see, we have a bit of traveling to do, and I’d rather not do it with an injured man.” His teeth flashed. “I will if I have to, though.” To his companion, he said, “The lady will ride with me. He’ll ride alone. Don’t drop your guard again, John.”
“That’s not fair, Wendell—” John rubbed his sore head.
“Shut up.” He waved the gun at them. “Time to go, you two. The boss lady will be real happy to see you. Impressed, too, seeing as how she has no idea I left camp.”
Wendell. As in, the man who’d accompanied Samantha to Becca’s house. The one who’d frightened her with his attention.
Fear coiled like a viper in his belly. If they left the farm, there was a mighty good chance they wouldn’t be returning.
“She will only slow us down, you know,” he pushed out. “Leave her here, and I’ll go willingly. I’ll tell Samantha everything I know, and who I’ve told it to.”
Reaching around Caleb, Wendell snagged Becca’s arm and hauled her over to him. Her dismayed gasp speared through him, and it took every shred of self-control not to reach out to her.
“She’s going. And the next time you take it into your mind to rebel, O’Malley, she’ll get the punishment. Understand?”
Jerking a nod, he tried to tell her with his eyes that somehow, some way, he’d get them out of this mess.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Rebecca was going to be physically ill. With each passing mile they traveled farther from the O’Malley farm, the lower their chance of rescue became. Night cloaked the silent, massive forest. Behind her on the hulking horse, Wendell took advantage of the situation to pin her close, his arm a manacle about her waist.
She didn’t dare risk a glance at Caleb. The last time she’d done so, she’d been tempted to do something rash like vaulting off the horse. Anything to reach him. To comfort him. Her husband had managed to look furious and ill with terror at the same time.
Bringing up the rear, John’s whistling pierced the stillness, the jaunty tune at odds with the gravity of their predicament. Things certainly weren’t in their favor. In fact, there was a good chance tonight might be their last.
Grief snatched her breath away. Caleb would never know how much he meant to her. He could very well die thinking she didn’t want him around. She squeezed her eyes tight. Why had she led him to believe a lie? Why insist on sticking to that agreement when the thought of not being with him made her die inside?
I’ve made a huge mistake, God. I’ve lied to myself and to my husband because I was too frightened to take a chance. Too scared to give in to these feelings.
“If you’re sleepy, little lady, feel free to rest your head on my shoulder.”
Snapping her head up, she ignored the low growl from Caleb. “I’m not sleepy.”
“I am.” John stopped whistling. “When a
re we gonna bed down for the night?”
A sigh heaving his chest, her captor pulled up on the reins. “Next time, you’re staying at the camp. Not sure why I let you talk me into letting you come. Should’ve brought Vance.”
“I’m not useless,” the younger man protested. “Besides, I’m the boss’s nephew. That gives me the right to be here.”
“It’s after midnight, anyway.” Wendell guided his horse to a level clearing on their right. Caleb followed and, sliding off his horse, strode to help her down before the other man could. At his reassuring touch, Rebecca blinked back tears. Then Wendell dismounted and shoved Caleb away.
“Tie him up,” he ordered John.
“Where’s Samantha?” Caleb demanded, brown eyes almost black with loathing. “How far away is your camp from here?”
Ignoring him, Wendell tethered the reins to a tree branch and reached for his canteen.
Rebecca edged closer to Caleb as John secured the ropes, shivering when she noticed his wince. Her own wrists burned from the friction.
“We’ll get there tomorrow around suppertime,” Samantha’s nephew told them amiably, as if he was some sort of mountain guide instead of their captor.
“Start the fire, John,” Wendell snapped. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
When Wendell had stomped off into the forest, lamplight dwindling, Caleb brought his face close to hers. “I’ll find a way to get you out of here. You have to promise to do what I say.”
Tangling her fingers with his, she whispered fiercely, “You mean us. I’m not leaving you.”
His forehead pressed against hers, warm breath caressing her face. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. When he put his hand on your neck...” He shuddered. “Did they do anything—”
“I’m unhurt. John’s not the one I’m worried about.” Something in Wendell’s eyes made her skin crawl.
His fingers tightened on hers. “We have to try and escape before we reach camp and the other men.”
“I wouldn’t let Wendell catch you two whispering together like that,” John called, tossing another stick onto the growing pile. The single lamp did little to dispel the night’s shadows.