Vestige of Courage

by Sara Blackard

  The car was old. The paint faded to a non-descript red or maybe a dark orange. It rattled as it idled, and he wondered if he’d find dropped parts when the visitor left. The driver’s head whipped forward, and after several seconds, the car clunked to silence.

  The driver’s door screeched open. Long, lean legs appeared, followed by a figure he could never forget, even though he had tried. His stomach rolled, and he thought he might just lose the expensive dinner he just ate.

  Samantha Jones stood in all her glory before them. Her flirty sundress and heeled sandals fit the ranch like a diamond necklace strung around one of his sheep’s necks. Her always-confident smile wavered as she looked between him and Beatrice, causing the elephant that had lodged into his gut to explode into a million butterflies. He hadn’t talked to Samantha since that fateful night four years ago when their easy friendship had been destroyed. He couldn’t imagine why she would track him down now, after all these years. Lord, please … I don’t … Please, help me.

  The closer they drew to her, the faster Chase’s heart pounded in his chest. He hoped Beatrice didn’t notice his slick hands, though with how observant she was, she probably noticed everything. When Samantha opened the back door and bent into the car, he peeked at Beatrice. Her face was a mask, void of any emotion.

  Samantha led a child out of the car. Not just any child, but a beautiful little girl with skin lighter than Samantha’s rich brown skin and dark, thick curls. Chase could see a smattering of freckles dancing across her nose and cheeks. He noticed the girl’s bright blue eyes and froze.

  “Hey, Chase.” Samantha’s greeting pulled his attention, his eyes narrowing.

  “Samantha, what are you doing here?” He knew his tone wasn’t very welcoming, but he couldn’t seem to care.

  “Well, I …” Samantha’s voice wavered. She glanced down at the girl who was peering around happily, her eyes widening as a horse’s neigh sounded from the barn. “I thought you might want to meet your daughter, Evangeline.”

  His fingers chilled to ice, and his heart beat heavy in his chest. Beatrice drew in a quick inhale of air and tried to pull her hand free. He didn’t let it go. He couldn’t, not when it anchored him.

  He swallowed the ache in the back of his throat. “She can’t be.”

  Samantha straightened her lithe frame and lifted her chin, the strong woman he’d admired so much in college emerging. “Look at her, Chase. Look at her eyes.”

  Evangeline’s eyebrows drew together as she looked up at Samantha. “Mommy?” Her angelic voice lifted in concern, Evangeline hugged her mom’s hand to her chest.

  “Why don’t I take Evangeline to see the horses so you two can talk?” Beatrice’s voice held a strange tone he couldn’t decipher.

  Samantha glanced hesitantly to the barn, then down to her daughter. Evangeline hugged Samantha’s hand tighter and squealed. Her small feet danced in the dirt beneath her.

  “Please, Mommy. Can I go see the horsies?” She smiled big and radiant, a smile Chase would have a hard time saying no to.

  “O—Okay.” Samantha hesitated. “But you listen to …”

  “Beatrice. I’m Beatrice Thomas.” Beatrice pulled her hand from his, wiping it on her jeans as if it was tainted.

  He didn’t blame her. He could feel it leaching back into his skin, into his soul. The taint of that single night had filled him with so much shame that he had wanted to run as far away as he could from it. It was the only time since his parents’ deaths that he was glad his father wasn’t around to see him. Chase never could hide anything from his father. The disappointment his father would have felt in him, the disappointment he felt in himself, almost smothered him as Beatrice walked away, her gait stiff. He’d changed his life in the aftermath of that moment, promised God he would live the path his father had wanted for him. Yet it seemed his secret sin had come to haunt him in the form of an adorable little sprite.

  Chase took a deep breath, though his lungs didn’t seem to fill with air. “How can you be sure she’s mine? It was one time, Samantha. Your way of getting back at Garrett, of making him jealous.”

  She lifted her chin and stepped closer. “Her eyes are the exact shade as yours. There’s no disclaiming that.”

  “I’m not disclaiming her eyes are the same color as mine, Sam.” He pushed his hand through his hair, then flung his hands wide. “Lots of people have blue eyes. That doesn’t mean the kid is mine.”

  His words tickled a memory in his brain. He tried to grab hold of it, but frustration kept it from his grasp. He turned away, stomping two steps before turning and stomping back. He crossed his arms to keep his hands from shaking.

  “I’ve only ever slept with two people. You and Garrett.” Her fisted hands pressed tightly against her legs.

  “Why now? What is it you want exactly?” He blinked, willing the heat in his face to go away. This was going to ruin everything. What could Beatrice possibly be thinking about him? Lord, help me. I’m drowning here.

  “I just … I need … a girl needs a father.” Samantha was holding something back from him. He could tell in the way her voice faltered and her eyes shifted to the side.

  That’s when it clicked. That evasive memory came into focus. He squinted as she fidgeted, glancing again at the car that seemed to be held together by duct tape and hopes.

  “Garrett’s sister had blue eyes. Eyes just like mine.” He heard the sharp intake of breath his words caused. “I don’t mind helping you if you’re in a tight spot, but I’m going to need a paternity test before I’m willing to say she’s mine.”

  Her lips quivered, but she nodded her head in agreement. “Fine. I’ll take her to Dr. Lee’s office on Monday. He’s a family doctor in Glenwood. He likes Eva. He’ll make sure it’s done quickly.”

  Chase nodded sharply. Two days of anxious waiting until Monday, then however long the test took to get back from the lab. But did it really matter what the results were? Sex before marriage was not something looked lightly on in Beatrice’s time, even if it was only once. Could he convince Beatrice that he had changed in the last four years? Or would the night he regretted to his very core be the ruin of him?

  “Am I doing this right?” Evangeline’s sweet voice pulled Beatrice from her daze.

  Beatrice forced a smile and a nod to Evangeline, who glanced over, her eyes wide in question. Her bright blue eyes that were a few shades paler than Chase’s.

  Pressure built within Beatrice’s chest like a grizzly had grabbed tight and was squeezing the life out of her. She sucked in a deep breath, her hand going to her heart as pain knifed into it. Would she ever breathe without anguish ripping through her soul, tearing her in two?

  She crossed her arms and focused her attention on Evangeline, doubt about Chase’s declaration just an hour earlier swirling in her brain. “He didn’t know,” she whispered to herself.

  Was that even true? His slick hands and quick breathing told her he was just as shocked as she was. She forced her tightened muscles to relax. Beatrice wasn’t sure how long she could contain the tears that stung sharply in her eyes.

  What was she going to do now? She didn’t have any place to go. She had no way to get anywhere anyway. She was stuck.

  A shiver rushed up her back like a frigid Colorado wind had just blown up her shirt. She obviously couldn’t stay here with Chase getting a new family. He’d have his wife, a woman more gorgeous than anyone Beatrice had ever seen before with her dark brown skin and long regal neck. He’d have the adorable Evangeline to keep him busy. He wouldn’t have to worry about the crazy woman who had to be taught how to live and was frightened of the silliest things. She tried to feel happy for Evangeline, who would be getting an amazing pa who was patient and kind, but she just couldn’t bring herself to.

  Verne ambled up to Beatrice, Blue hard on his heels, and pointed at Evangeline with his chin. “Cute kid.”

  “She’s Chase’s.” Beatrice wished her voice didn’t crack.

  The only sign of emo
tion on Verne was the slight wiggling of his caterpillar eyebrows. “You know this for sure?”

  She huffed at the question and crossed her arms. “I think a mom would know who the father of her kid is.”

  He peered at her with sorrowful eyes. “Oh, Beatrice. Unfortunately, that’s just not the case these days.”

  She remembered Hunter explaining about relationships in this time, that a lot of people didn’t take affection and even sex as the serious act God created it to be, and wanted to whack her hand to her forehead. She was so naive. Her isolated upbringing didn’t prepare her for this. Her thoughts spun, and she pinched her lips tight to keep them from trembling. Is that how Chase thought about relationships? About her? She covered her hot cheeks with her hands and rubbed her fingers into her hairline and behind her ears.

  “‘Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost.’” Verne’s soft words floated around her, but her heart refused to accept them.

  “I can’t hope, not now.”

  “That’s just it, Beatrice girl.” He turned to her, placing a fatherly hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to hope. Sometimes life seems downright hopeless. That verse says all you have to do is believe. When you believe in God, when you have Jesus in your heart and the Holy Spirit to guide you, God will provide the hope. And not just hope, girl, but joy and peace as well.”

  She shook her head. She knew she could trust God, but she also knew He didn’t promise that life would be full of sunshine and roses. The Bible may talk about hope and joy, but it also said, “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away.” She could bless the name of the Lord through this heartbreak, and maybe one day she’d find that joy God promised.

  “I’m praying for you, Beatrice, and I’m here for you.”

  She nodded, glad that Evangeline’s mother was calling for her daughter so Beatrice could escape. She forced words through her tight throat. “Evangeline, your mother’s calling.”

  The little girl sighed like it was the end of the world and patted the horse on the nose. “Bye, horsie. I’ll try to come and visit you again.”

  Beatrice walked behind Evangeline as she rushed out of the barn, excitedly yelling for her mom. Blue chased after her, yipping in matched tones. Chase stood rooted to the spot he had been when Beatrice had left, his arms crossed over his chest. He tore his gaze from the little girl, who yammered about how much she loved horses, and looked fixedly at Beatrice. His arms dropped to his side, and he took a step toward her. She turned her head to the house and marched to the porch, escaping into the house. She rushed up the stairs to her room, grabbing her cell phone from the entry table as she passed.

  Though it was childish, she slammed the bedroom door. Her legs gave out, and she sank onto her bed, pulling her knees to her chest.

  “Lord, what do I do now?”

  She pulled the envelope Zeke had given her from the nightstand and pushed the numbers on the screen that would call him. She was thankful Chase had showed her how the contraption worked.

  “This is Zeke.” Zeke’s strong, low voice came through the phone.

  “Zeke—” Her breath shuddered out of her, his name barely audible.

  “Beatrice? What’s going on?” The alertness in his voice broke the dam barely holding her together, and her troubles spilled out from her in a rush of words.

  “Chase has a kid?” Shock was thick in Zeke’s voice. “A Bennett saint has a kid?”

  “That’s what this Samantha said.”

  “But what did Chase say?”

  “I haven’t talked to him. I left to give them some privacy.” Ran and hid in cowardice was more like it, she thought.

  “Well … just because she says the kid is his, doesn’t mean it actually is.” Zeke’s typical calm had returned.

  “So I’ve been told.” She huffed, flopping back on the bed. “That doesn’t change the fact that he still had marital relations with her.”

  “What are you saying, Bea?” His tone was hard, guarded. “That Chase is a bad guy for having sex outside of marriage? What about me? I can tell you I was a lot worse than Chase ever was before I found God. Are you going to be disgusted with me too?”

  She sucked in a breath at his insulted tone, ashamed she’d ever make him think that. “No, that’s not … of course I’m not disgusted. I’m … I … I’m confused, Zeke. I don’t care what he did before. Who am I to judge? I murdered a guy. He’s a good man, you both are. It's just that …” She sighed. “I grew up around a very limited number of people, Zeke. Those I did grow up with were very different than the people now. If something like this did happen, and a man got a girl pregnant, he has a responsibility to her and the kid. If he didn't marry her, she’d be ruined.”

  She heard Zeke sigh and wished she could see his reactions. “Beatrice, it doesn’t work that way anymore. Even if the kid is Chase’s, he doesn’t have to marry the mom. He’ll have to provide for the kid, and knowing Chase like I do, he’ll want to share custody so he can have a relationship with his daughter. But unless he’s in love with the mom, he doesn’t have to marry her.”

  “What does that even mean, ‘share custody’? If Chase is Evangeline’s father, they are a family. He’ll have to marry her. Only a low-down, dirty polecat wouldn’t be a father to his kid, and Chase isn't a polecat.”

  “Sharing custody means that Evangeline would stay with Chase part of the time and her mom part of the time. It’s different, depending on the circumstance, but she could stay one week at one house and the next at the other. Or maybe spend weekends with Dad and weekdays at Mom’s.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth. “How horrible. How do those children not feel torn, always passed one place to another?”

  “It’s not ideal, I’ll give you that. It’s also better than the alternative, though.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Listen, my parents divorced when I was seven—”

  “Divorced?” Beatrice had never heard of anyone talking about divorce so openly.

  “It means that they ended their marriage.”

  “I know what it means. It’s just not something done often or talked about, for that matter.”

  “Maybe back in your time.” He sighed again, only this time she was kind of glad the phone hid his expression. She didn’t want to know if he was frustrated with her. “My parents didn’t love each other. They may have at one point, or maybe it was just lust. Whatever the case, they were both miserable, often arguing. It wasn’t a pleasant household. Sure, going back and forth between homes was a pain sometimes, but both my parents got remarried to people they absolutely love. They are both much happier than if they would’ve stayed married just because of me.”

  “Is there no sanctity in marriage anymore?”

  “No, not for many. I understand now that if more lived for God and followed where He guided instead of blazing their own trail, there’d definitely be fewer broken homes and children with only one parent. But I also know that God is full of mercy, forgiving us even when we don’t deserve it. He brings beauty out of heartache, transforms sorrow into joy. There are a lot of amazing kids out there that never would’ve been if the parents had waited. Not that I’m condoning that, but even in our mistakes, God is there.”

  While his words were nice and filled with hope, it did nothing to ease her doubt. She squeezed her eyes shut as a weight settled in her chest. “I … I kissed him today.” Her heartbreak overrode her embarrassment at telling Zeke. “He told me he was mine. How can I know he didn’t say the same to Samantha? That he won’t change his mind and discard me in the future? I’m stuck, Zeke. I have nothing. I don’t have a home. I don’t have a family. I don’t …” She sighed deeply. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Beatrice, listen to me very closely. You are not stuck. If you decide you don’t want to stay up at the ranch, I have an apartment above my garage that isn’t being used right now. It’s all yours fo
r as long as you need it. But I think you should talk to Chase before you make any decisions.”

  She groaned as she rolled over and pushed herself to a sitting position. She scooched herself so she leaned against the headboard. Knocking a rhythm with her head against the iron frame, she wished she could knock some sense into her world.

  “It’s not just that, Zeke. Back home, I did what needed to be done to survive. Hunting, tracking, butchering, and gardening aren’t really skills used today, but it’s all I know how to do. I don’t even know how to start the stove, for Pete’s sake.”

  “I’m not worried about that, Beatrice. God wouldn’t have brought you here if He didn’t have purpose for you. You just have to give it time. Talk to Chase. Sleep on it, read the Bible, and pray. If you want me to come pick you up tomorrow, or anytime really, I can. However, I’m just going to say this and then I’m going to let you go. Running is the easy fix, Beatrice. I believe you have the strength and courage to face this. I don’t think it’s in your nature to hide. Think about that and call me if you need to.”

  The phone went silent, so Beatrice pressed the off button. Did she have the courage to stay on this mountain, alone in this house with Chase? She shook her head and pushed the heel of her hands into her eyes. She didn’t think so. Yet, if she forced her fear and hurt down, stuffing them below the surface, she might just be able to find the strength to talk to him. Then she’d do as Zeke advised and search out help from God, because she’d never figure this out on her own.

  Chapter 17

  December 15, 1884

  Dear Beatrice, I lost the baby a few days ago. I know that it happens, but I’m heartbroken just the same. I keep wondering if I did something to cause it. Hunter insists that I didn’t, that even in his time women still miscarry for no known reason. He’s devastated, though no one but me could tell. I know I shouldn’t be, that I should trust in God’s plan, but I’m afraid, Bea. I’m terrified I’ll get pregnant and have to feel this heartbreak all over again. I wish you were here with me right now. I miss you terribly.