Chase spun as Samantha drove out of the yard. He wished she hadn’t driven up to begin with. No, that wasn’t the truth entirely. If the cute little girl ended up his, he wanted to know, wanted to take care of her and watch her grow. His heart ached at not seeing her as a baby, watching her take her first steps, and having her reach out to him when she cried. He rubbed his hand across his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. What a mess. He couldn’t help but hope in a small way that Evangeline was his, but he feared that if that proved true, he’d lose Beatrice forever. Could she forgive him of a past he regretted more than he thought possible?
He stared at the house where he saw movement in Beatrice’s window. Everything in him wanted to rush in, charge up the stairs, and beg her to understand. Yet, the way she had barely looked at him before she stomped into the house held him back. Hopefully he’d get a chance to explain to her.
He slapped his leg and stomped toward the corral. He grabbed the top rail and squeezed the wood tight. He’d ruined everything. He bent down, putting his head on his hands and squeezing his eyes shut. Would this pain ever release his chest so he could breathe fully again? He let out a low growl that built to a roar and shook the rail in frustration.
“Well, this really mucks things up, don’t it?” Verne’s calm, gravelly voice filled the air. “Cute kid, though. Won’t be bad having her around if she ends up yours.”
“Yeah, she’s beautiful.” Chase smiled at her chipper jabbering about the nice horsies and how she wanted to ride one. “I told her she could come back and ride a horse.” Chase moaned low. “One night, Verne. One night I let grief and alcohol override my values, and I might lose everything.”
“Yep, you’re right.” Verne’s matter-of-fact tone hit Chase hard in the gut.
“Geez, Verne, don’t sugar coat it or anything.” He stood and took a deep breath.
“I’m not about to coddle you, Chase. You know the Good Book says our sin doesn’t come without consequence.” Verne crossed his arms on the rail of the corral and relaxed without a care in the world. Chase stifled the urge to push him just to get him riled up. “The thing is you might just lose everything, but you might also gain so much more than you ever imagined possible. Beatrice may just decide to leave. I’m assuming by ‘everything’ you mean her.”
Chase nodded. “I don’t get it, Verne. I just met her, but I feel as if I was always meant for her. My heart is ripping from my chest.”
“Sometimes love is like that. I knew the instant I saw my Martha that she’d be mine. Didn’t matter that she was already engaged.” Verne sniffed, his hand rubbing his chest. He cleared his throat. “My point is, this life’s full of heartache, but it’s also full of the promises of God. You may just lose Beatrice, heck you may not even get that sweet little girl as a daughter in the process, but you always have God. He’s in the business of redeeming our mistakes.”
The screen door slammed, drawing both of their attention. The sun sank low on the horizon like his stomach bottomed out in his body. Beatrice’s face was shadowed, and Chase wished he could see her expressions and gauge how the next few minutes were going to play out. Hope tingled through his limbs the instant he noticed her rolling the sleeves of his sweatshirt up so her hands didn’t disappear.
“I wouldn’t count our girl out just yet.” Verne stood tapping his hand on his leg. “Some advice from an old geezer. Be honest with her, Chase. Glazing over things will only make matters worse.”
Beatrice gave Verne a small wave as he walked away, whistling for Blue to follow. She approached hesitantly, twisting Chase’s gut into knots. Then, as if she gathered her courage within her, her shoulders pushed back and she marched resolutely to him. She stepped up to the corral, standing a few feet from him. He wished he could slide over, erase the distance between them. He grabbed onto the rail so he wouldn’t move.
She turned to him, her arms crossed over her chest. “So … Evangeline is cute.” Her voice was rough and thick.
He tried to take a deep breath, to sigh out his frustration, but his chest was so tight the air shuddered in and out. “Yeah, well … I’m going in to the doctor on Monday to have a paternity test run.” She frowned and tilted her head to the side. “It’s a test where a lab compares her DNA to mine to see if they are the same.”
A rueful laugh puffed out of her as she shook her head. “Then what?”
He pushed his hand through his hair. He didn’t know what happened next. If it was up to him, he’d reverse time and spirit Beatrice far from here so that the hurt he saw in her eyes now was replaced with what he’d seen earlier, which had looked a lot like love to him.
“I don’t know, Bea. If Evangeline is mine, her mom and I will have to work out custody.”
She nodded and looked out over the meadow, her cheek clenching. “Will you marry Samantha then?”
A harsh laugh jerked out of him in surprise. “No, I won’t be marrying Samantha. I’m not about to turn the one night I regret most in my life into a lifetime of woe.”
Her head snapped his direction. “One night?”
He wished the sun would pause in its descent so he could see all her expressions. On the other hand, it was probably best the darkening sky would keep her reactions muted.
He dragged the story out of himself, drowning in the sense of despair that overwhelmed him. “One night, that’s it. We were friends in college, hung out with the same crowd.” He turned and stared at the sunset, not willing to see the disappointment he was sure would be written all over her face. “She was actually a really good friend, just about the only person I could talk to about my parents’ deaths who understood the grief I was going through. Her mother also died in a car crash when she was a senior in high school. She never knew her father. He died over in Iraq when she was younger.”
He tried to stop the shaking in his limbs, tried to focus his thoughts so he didn’t confuse her. Yet he couldn’t seem to. He plowed on, knowing he may be confusing her more, making it difficult for her to understand.
“I wasn’t handling my parents’ deaths very well. I was failing my classes, spending way too much time taking off for the outdoors, doing crazy stunts, or partying with friends. Hunter was away saving the world. My parents were gone. I just hit bottom one day.”
He remembered the bitter taste of the beers he’d downed that night. The music had been pounding over the speakers at his friend’s house, the beat emphasizing his loneliness with each thump. He had wanted to leave, escape from everything and everyone. He’d wanted to stop pretending everything was fine, stop pretending to be this charismatic person who was always the life of the party.
“Samantha showed up looking gorgeous as usual. I had been kind of surprised she’d come since she and Garrett had broken up again. She’d stalked over to where I was sitting. I remember her gaze kept darting to where Garrett was dancing with another girl. She had leaned close, asking if I wanted to go talk. Maybe I was stupid and didn’t realize what she really meant.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “Or maybe I was lonely and drunk enough not to care at the moment.”
Chase thought about when they had finished. How Samantha had rolled over and started crying. Vomit rose up his throat just like it had the moment he had realized what he had done. He cleared his throat.
“Afterward, I ran. Ran from the room. Ran from school. I never saw Samantha again. I was so ashamed of who I had become, knew my father would be brokenhearted. Dad had told Hunter and me in high school that we shouldn’t flirt with the temptation of a woman who wasn’t our wife, that we should save ourselves for the one God had destined to be ours. Hunter took Dad’s advice to heart, didn’t even go out on a single date.”
“He told us about that.” Her soft whisper caused his neck to turn hot.
Of course Hunter would’ve told Beatrice and her family how he had followed Dad’s advice. Somehow, knowing she knew just how far Chase had fallen from the family tree made the guilt lay thicker upon him.
“I wasn’t as
strict as Hunter. I dated, even kissed some, but up to that night, I’d never ventured further than some kissing. I’d always promised myself that was the line I wouldn’t cross. I guess … I guess I was too weak.”
“I know how the agony of losing a parent can make you do things you regret later.”
He cleared his throat that was thick with unshed tears. “Yeah, well, I changed my life after that. I decided I was done wasting time wallowing in college. I dropped out and focused all my energy in building my social media platform that was already bringing in a small income. I promised God, my dad, and myself that I would follow Hunter’s example, not even dating until I knew without a doubt the woman before me was who God planned for my life. I had thought I was doing so good, living life in a way that was pleasing to God. He even blessed me by dropping the woman of my dreams right on the edge of my property. Then my past had to coming rumbling in, blowing my life to pieces again.”
The silence that fell between them was thick and miserable like a heavy fog. As the sky lost its last remaining color to the darkness of night, Beatrice gazed up at the stars. The crickets’ song filled the air, one of their last mournful concerts before the chill of winter quieted them until spring. He knew he probably should say something more, but the words froze in his heart.
“You haven’t courted anyone else?” Her quiet question had his heart thundering so loud he feared she’d hear it in the night’s calm.
“I haven’t even noticed a woman since that night. That is, until you.” He cringed at his awkwardness.
She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself. “Thank you for being honest with me, Chase. I don’t …” She inhaled deeply. “I honestly am just confused right now. I know what I would do if I was back home, but here … I’m lost.”
“What would you do if you were back home?” Maybe he could work with what she said to understand how he might save him and her.
“You’d marry Samantha, and I’d move on. I’d be all-fired as a hornet in a honey jar, but I’d move on.”
Chase didn’t think he could work with the finality of that. His heart bottomed out. Had he already lost her?
“But now everything is so different.” The hope her words caused lifted his heart from the bottom of his stomach. “I think … I think I should leave until you figure things out.”
The earth shifted beneath his feet, and he worried he would crash to the ground. “What do you mean? Where would you go?”
“Zeke said he had an apartment that wasn’t being used. I can live there if I wanted.”
He knew exactly what apartment she was talking about. If she moved to the apartment above Zeke’s garage, Chase might as well kiss his dreams goodbye. No woman could be around Zeke without falling madly in love with him. Chase had watched it time and time again. If Beatrice was right next door, spending time with Zeke, eventually she’d realize he was a much better catch than Chase.
“No, please, don’t leave. I can’t—” His throat closed up as emotion stung his eyes and nose. He breathed out hard. “I need—” He closed his mouth, not knowing if he should risk it. If he didn’t risk it now, would he have another opportunity? He took a step closer. “I need you, Beatrice. My world is spinning right now, but you … you ground me.”
She turned her face to him. Moonlight glistened off her bright eyes. They closed and her head shook nominally.
“I can’t stay in the house with you without a chaperone anymore, Chase. It wouldn’t be right.” Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at him.
“Okay, I understand.” His mind scrambled for a solution. “What if I moved into the bunkhouse? There are a couple empty bedrooms there now. If I moved in there, would you feel comfortable staying?”
She glanced toward the house, staring at the dark structure. Her head pivoted to the one-story bunkhouse. Its windows were lit brightly where it was tucked next to the barn. His heart beat wildly in his chest as he held his breath. She nodded, then looked at him for a second before turning and rushing to the dark house. The hold on his heart loosened a bit, and hope flooded in as the light from the living room illuminated the darkness.
Chapter 18
April 30, 1890
Dear Beatrice, I’m wondering if I should’ve hidden your books on archery. Your namesake has taken it upon herself to be as proficient with the bow and arrow as her Auntie Bea is, even though she’s only seven. She’s progressing quite rapidly, I might say, and has deemed herself ready to go off on her own to hunt game in the woods. She becomes quite upset at us when we force her to go with one of the boys. She says they stomp around the woods like a bunch of greenhorns, which I know for a fact isn’t true. So not only does she inherit your shooting skills, but she also has your dramatic tendencies.
Beatrice slammed the pencil down onto the desk and growled. Either she was completely inept at searching the internet or there was no information about Hope Isaac. Beatrice had scoured every organization, government agency, and mission group she could find. She had called so many people asking for information about the orphaned little girl that her ears rang. No one knew a thing, or they weren’t willing to tell her.
Then there was the fact that her mind didn’t seem to want to concentrate on the information before her. Chase had left an hour earlier, headed to town to test Evangeline’s parentage. Five to seven business days. That’s how long her research said the results would take to get back. Would he change his mind if the results came back positive, decide maybe he did want them to be a family after all? There was no denying that Samantha was stunning. Samantha showed up, looking gorgeous as usual. Chase’s words burned in her head. She wondered if he would meet up with them somewhere, maybe grab some fancy coffee everyone kept raving about.
Maybe Beatrice shouldn’t have agreed to Chase bunking with the cowhands. He had moved into the bunkhouse three nights earlier, taking some clothing and her heart with him. The house creaked and groaned solemnly without him there, echoing her own whimpers of emptiness.
Geesh, Beatrice, being a tad dramatic? She huffed at herself. She was being dramatic, and it annoyed her. She never imagined she’d roll her eyes at herself as much as she had the last few days. Others? Of course. Most people deserved an eye roll or two. But she’d always thought herself too levelheaded to merit the action. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen Chase all weekend. He’d been at the house first thing each morning, asking if he could make her breakfast. They’d spent hours in this very room searching for Hope, had gone shooting and watched movies, but the emotional space between them seemed to be growing. What started out as an easy ditch to jump, turned into a ravine she couldn’t see a way around.
Then there were the nightmares that began haunting her the night Chase left. She had woken in a sweat, screaming at the top of her lungs. William had been there, a gaping hole in his chest. He’d blinked rapidly, looking down at his hands slick with his own blood, then lifted broken eyes to her.
“Why?” William’s voice cracked in the dream, ripping a sob from her. “Why didn’t you help me?”
She had shaken her head, trying to push out an apology. Yet fear trapped the words in her throat.
William’s sad eyes then filled with rage. He lunged for her, and she'd jerked awake soaked in sweat and tears. The same dream replayed in her mind every time she tried to sleep. Maybe Chase’s presence in the house had kept the demons at bay, but her lack of sleep and the weight of guilt had put dark circles under her eyes and made her extra testy.
She pushed back from the desk and turned in the chair as it rolled into the middle of the office. She knew it was childish, but she loved rolling and spinning in the fancy chair. She stopped and gazed at the mountains through the window. How many times had she stared at those mountains back in her time, wondering what animals she’d find to fill the larder? Wondering what life would be like beyond them? She stood abruptly, sending the chair flying to bump loudly into the desk. She needed something familiar. She needed the mountain air and a horse beneath her.
Twenty minutes later Beatrice sat upon Storm and breathed in deeply. The crisp fall air rejuvenated her better than any coffee ever could. She waved at Verne and kicked Storm into a gallop. The rush of air and the pounding of hooves filled her with joy and settled her nerves. Would she find a release that compared to this if she decided to move to town and live in Zeke’s apartment? She didn’t think she would, which was another worry that troubled her brain. She pushed the thought away and leaned further over Storm’s neck. She gave him the reins and let him fly.
She raced across meadows and through trees, running from the doubts and fears that filled her mind. She rode all-out until her presence was filled with the calm of the mountains. Storm slowed to a walk, and Beatrice leaned her head back, allowing the sun to warm her face. A slight breeze blew the rich scent of dried grass and fallen leaves past her. She breathed deeply, letting the familiar scent ground her.
“Lord, I’m anxious as all get-out here, acting like a bunch of chickens with a fox in the coop. I’m having a hard time focusing on my faith in You, having trust that what Verne said is true. Please, help me in my unbelief.”
A strong breeze filled with warmth the autumn weather didn’t permit blew through her hair. It swirled around her, warming her muscles which the ride through the woods had chilled. An inaudible voice whispered deep in her heart, promising joy and calming her with a peace she didn’t understand. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, exhaling thanks to God, provider of hope.
A turkey gobbled in the aspen trees ahead causing Beatrice to smile. “You sure do know my heart, Lord. Thank you.”
She dismounted and quietly led Storm to a tree where she could tie him. She pulled the bow over her head where she had it slung across her chest and grabbed the arrows from her quiver attached to her belt. She smirked, remembering Chase’s and the men at the weapon store’s confusion at her request for a belt quiver. She had to adjust one they’d had to accommodate to what she wanted, since all they had were ones that strapped across the back. They hadn’t believed her when she explained she actually wouldn’t need it since she preferred to carry the arrows in her drawing hand. Their laughter had quickly dried up when she’d sauntered calmly to the shooting range set up in the back of the store and fired four arrows rapidly into the center of the target. It’d taken her years of countless hours of practice to master the ancient way of shooting she’d read about in the books titled Toxophilus and Arab Archery her pa had brought back for her from one of his trips. Though she hadn’t been able to read the beautiful Arabic print, the pictures had been eye-opening.
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