Will did feel sorry for Blythe, and he understood Granville’s thinking. The man just wanted his sister to be cared for and accepted, and felt this newest smear on her reputation would dash all hope of that. Will understood perfectly, but forcing them into marriage was a crazy proposition at best. “And you believe a few words in front of a preacher will do that?”
“I’m thinking that it would be a good way for both of you to start fresh. Think about it. You’d share the same space in a peaceful coexistence. No pressure. No expectations.” He shrugged. “It could even be a good move for your business.”
Will frowned. Good move for his business? What did that mean?
* * *
The woman standing at the door heard footsteps approaching from the living area of the house. Cautiously, she turned the knob and eased through the narrow aperture onto the small back porch, managing to close the door just in time to avoid discovery.
Evidently the people of Wolf Creek were still exerting social pressure to satisfy their peculiar mode of right and wrong. As usual, Will was being his stubborn self, which worked to her advantage. And she had heard one other interesting tidbit. She tucked it away, certain it would be of use at some time in the future...
* * *
“Time’s up.”
The abrupt interruption came from Rachel, who stepped through the doorway wearing her doctor face. She walked past Win and headed straight to the bed, where she picked up Will’s wrist to check his pulse. He could have kissed her for her perfect timing. Granville’s heart might be in the right place, but he was absolutely off his rocker if he expected William Slade to jump just because he said frog!
No expectations. Peaceful coexistence. Make it worth his while...
“Your heart is beating way too fast, Will, and you look terrible. You have to get some rest,” Rachel said, pulling one of the pillows out from behind him and pushing on his shoulder, indicating that he should lie down.
“I was just leaving,” Win said, heading toward the door. He stepped into the hallway and turned. “Just think about it,” he said and disappeared from view.
“Did he get out of hand?” Rachel demanded once he was gone.
“Not at all,” Will told her, a little surprised their talk hadn’t turned into a shouting match.
“What are you supposed to think about?” she asked.
Will cocked a dark eyebrow in mocking question. “What do you think?”
“He wants you to do the right thing by Blythe.”
Will’s brief laughter was raspy-sounding. “For the last time, I have no intention of marrying a woman I barely know just to satisfy the conventions of society.”
“It’s hard, Will. I know what she’s going through,” she said, referencing the well-known but mostly forgotten fact that she had borne Gabe Gentry’s son, Danny, out of wedlock years before Gabe, much like the prodigal son, had come back to town and the two finally reconnected and married.
“It’ll all blow over when something juicier comes along.”
Chapter Six
Win had been gone no more than a few minutes when Edward spoke from the bedroom doorway. “I hate to interrupt again, but Will has another visitor.”
“Tell them he isn’t up for any more visits today,” Rachel said, giving the cover a final tug.
She might as well have been speaking to the wall. Behind Edward, an ostrich plume came into view and a stunning brunette stepped around the doctor. For the second time in the past hour, Will felt his stomach take a sickening lurch.
Edward turned to the woman, his usual pleasant features rigid with displeasure. “I asked you to wait in the parlor, Miss, uh...”
“Rafferty,” Will’s former wife supplied, ignoring both him and Rachel, who looked as if she could bite nails. All Martha’s attention was focused on Will. “Hello, Will,” she crooned in a familiar throaty voice.
“What on earth are you doing here, Martha?”
She gave a short laugh and sashayed toward the bed. “Well, that isn’t much of a welcome for someone who’s traveled so far to see you. As soon as I got the news about you being so sick, I hopped on the first train to come and see how I could help during your recuperation.”
She turned to Rachel with pleading in her eyes. “Please don’t make me leave after I’ve had such a lengthy trip. I won’t stay long.”
Rachel glanced at Will to confirm that she should let the woman who’d ruined his life stay.
“It’s fine, Rachel,” he told her. “She’s right. She won’t be here long.” His voice held a bit of steel.
Martha had the audacity to look affronted, a technique she’d perfected through the years. Though it was hard to see from the bed, Will thought he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. Good grief! She was really pulling out all the stops. She should give up men and take up acting for an occupation.
Both the look and the tears were typical Martha ploys. No matter what the problem might be, she thought if she just acted innocent and confused, everything would go her way. It had worked well for her until things had fallen apart, but Will had gotten a lot smarter in the two years she’d been out of his life, and he’d grown a tougher skin, one that was immune to pitiful looks and pouting red lips.
“Don’t be angry, Will. Just because things didn’t...work out for us doesn’t mean I don’t care about your well-being,” she told him in a faltering voice.
Will closed his eyes for a few seconds, reaching up and massaging his suddenly pounding temples. “What does your current husband have to say about this little spur-of-the-moment trip to visit your former husband?”
Martha frowned and darted a pointed look from Edward to Rachel, saying without words that she wished they would go away and give her and Will a little privacy.
With a final look at Will, Rachel and her father left the room. Martha turned to shut the door, but Will stopped her. “Don’t close it.”
She whirled around with a practiced grace he remembered well. “Why ever not?” she asked, her eyes wide and blameless.
“Rachel and Edward might get the wrong idea.”
“Funny man.” She sauntered back to the bed and placed her palm against his cheek, smiling at him like an indulgent mother. “We were married, for goodness’ sake.”
Will reached up and manacled her wrist with his fingers. “But we aren’t anymore,” he reminded, moving her hand.
Martha snatched her hand free and clutched her reticule.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Will prompted. “What did your husband have to say about you coming to see me?”
For the first time since she’d pushed her way into the room and back into his life, she looked uncomfortable. Feigning nonchalance, she sat down in the wooden rocker that sat next to the bed and glared at him. “If you must know, I never married Scott.”
That was a surprise. Will wondered why he hadn’t heard that bit of gossip bandied about town. Probably because she hadn’t kept in contact with any of the friends from her “old” life. “Really? Why not?”
“It turns out he was already engaged to some silly little debutante with scads of money.”
Served her right for cheating on him, Will thought uncharitably. “When did you find that out?”
“A couple of months after I arrived in Springfield,” she told him, tapping her fingernails on the wooden arms of the rocker.
“Did you stay with him after you found out?”
“Why do you care?” she snapped, barely holding on to her good manners.
“Care?” He shook his head. “I don’t,” he told her with blunt honesty. “I’m just curious. Trying to put all the pieces together.”
Her gaze didn’t quite meet his. “If you must know, yes, I stayed with him for a few months until I could figure out something. And then...then I
realized that I wanted more and I ended it.”
Will knew that the “more” she wanted was a wedding ring on her finger. He actually smiled at “figure out something.” When that was translated, it meant she had to have time to find another chump.
“And then what? What have you been doing since then?”
Her angry gaze met his. “What do you mean?”
“It’s been nearly two years, Martha, and you filed for and got a divorce. What did you do when you left Scott? Find another protector?”
He could almost see the cogs turning behind her troubled violet eyes, could almost hear the angry words that trembled on those perfect lips, but Martha had had something in mind when she’d come here and, despite her irritation, she was clever enough to know that she couldn’t ruin things by spouting off. Instead she produced a solitary tear that slid down her pale cheek.
“What’s happened to you, Will?” she asked in a husky voice. “You were never so cruel before.”
“Before? Oh, yes. Before my wife left me for another man and ripped out my heart. You’re right. I was too naïve back then, so smitten with you that I fell for every lie you told me.”
In typical Martha fashion, she ignored her own accountability and latched on to the part of his statement she could use to further her purpose. “Oh!” she cried, clasping her hands to her chest. “I didn’t realize my leaving would hurt you so. You must have loved me very much.”
Will met her gaze head-on. “I suppose I did. Or at least I thought it was love,” he admitted. “But whatever it was, it’s gone.”
“Don’t say that!” she cried, leaping to her feet and leaning over him on the bed. “I made a terrible mistake. I admit it. It was wrong, and it was sinful, and I know it will be hard for you to forgive me, but I came the minute I heard how sick you were, because hearing that...that something might...happen to you—” her chin trembled and another tear leaked from the corner of her eye “—just broke my heart, and I realized what a fool I was to throw away what we had.”
“What are you saying, Martha?” he asked, though he knew exactly what was coming.
“That I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you, Will, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll just give me another chance.”
* * *
After that, Will got rid of his ex-wife as quickly as possible. He’d had to resort to pretty blunt speech before she could be persuaded to leave, but leave she finally did. She’d left in tears, slamming both doors behind her as she went. Will knew the emotion behind her tears was more likely fury that things hadn’t gone her way than from a contrite and broken heart. Her parting gibe had been that she wasn’t done, not by a long shot.
Will would have worried about it if he hadn’t been so tired from all the company. Instead of replaying the scene over and over as he usually would have done, he closed his eyes, rolled to his side and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
* * *
On Saturday morning, Blythe woke late. The familiar feeling of dread hung over her. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt happy and eager to start the day. She was exhausted—mentally and physically. Despite her determination not to cry another tear, she felt the scalding moisture fill her eyes and slip down her temples into her hair. What a gigantic, colossal, stupid mess she’d made of her life! As if that weren’t bad enough, she must have indeed picked up a milder version of whatever it was that had afflicted Will Slade.
Ever since her conversation with Will on Tuesday, she’d been plagued with a dull headache, sniffling, coughing and light-headedness. At her mother’s insistence, Homer had allowed her to stay home from her teaching position, which, even though she was sick, at least prevented her from having to deal with any more irate mothers.
All her life she’d tried to be a dutiful and loving daughter, aunt and sibling. She was honest, trustworthy, hardworking, and tried to be the best Christian she could. What had she done to displease God? Why was He punishing her?
A feeling of guilt swept through her. She had done her best to be all the things she should, and even though she knew she often fell short, in both cases she’d made choices based on the information she’d had. God had nothing to do with it.
For the first time in a long time—maybe since the day she’d discovered Devon’s perfidy—she prayed. She prayed for forgiveness of her uncharitable thoughts, her anger and her sometimes immature behavior, for guidance and the wisdom to make better choices in the future. She prayed that she could rid herself of the resentment that seemed to consume her and that she could balance her old self with the new, more authoritative Blythe Granville in a way that would make her better and stronger, not bitter. When she whispered, “Amen,” she felt more calm and at peace than she had in ages.
There was no changing the past. All she could do was learn from her mistakes and make the best of her future, whatever that entailed. She pushed herself into a sitting position and looked out the lace-draped window. The Saturday morning looked sunny, springlike. What could she do with it?
After dressing, she went downstairs, where she found her mother about to start breakfast.
“Put that skillet away.”
Libby turned to look at her daughter in surprise. “What?”
“Don’t cook. Let’s go to Ellie’s for breakfast. My treat. I got paid last Friday.”
“Oh, that would be nice. Should we stop by and see if Win wants to join us?”
That was all she needed to make her day go downhill in a hurry! “He’s a grown man perfectly able to find food when he wants it. Besides, I’m in the mood for a mother and daughter chat.” Despite her prayer, Blythe was still a bit perturbed at her brother.
Libby frowned. “Are you all right?”
“Of course,” Blythe assured her with a smile. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“Well, for starters, I can’t remember the last time I saw you smile, and you’ve almost been a hermit since you got here. What’s changed?”
“My attitude, maybe. Oh, Mama, I’ve been wallowing in my misery, blaming God, blaming Devon and wondering why it happened to me...” She shook her head. “I finally realized that the why doesn’t matter. I made a bad choice. Whining and placing blame doesn’t matter. What does matter is what I do next, how I handle things from here on out.
“I can’t let the past make me miserable. I can take this new life that I didn’t want one day at a time, and I can choose to make it pleasant or miserable. I guess it all comes down to choices. I choose to be happy today.”
Without a word, Libby crossed the room and pulled her youngest child into her arms for a big hug. Then she cradled Blythe’s face in her hands. “That’s a good philosophy, sweetheart. Mature thinking.”
“Thanks, Mama.” Blythe’s smile was a little wobbly. “Now let’s go and have one of Ellie’s fabulous breakfasts and see what the townsfolk say about me daring to show my face in public.”
Libby laughed. “That’s my girl.”
As usual, Ellie’s Café was filled with the clatter of silverware, the homey aromas of fresh coffee and frying meat and the hum of dozens of conversations.
When Blythe and her mother walked through the doors, no one paid much attention. So far, so good, she thought. Spying an empty table in the back near the kitchen, she wove her way through the maze of tables and chairs.
Ellie, who was just passing through the swinging doors from the kitchen, carrying two plates piled high with food, spied Blythe and offered her a smile of welcome. The simple gesture lifted her spirits. No wonder Win liked the pretty, auburn-haired café owner.
They were barely seated when the conversations began to dwindle away, one by one, as Ellie’s regulars began to notice Blythe and Libby’s arrival.
The semi-silence was broken when two youthful voices chorused, “
Good morning, Miss Granville.”
Cilla Garrett and her brother, Brady, were sitting at a nearby table having breakfast with their father, Wolf Creek’s sheriff, and his new bride, Allison. Blythe wasn’t sure when she’d been so happy to see her students.
She and her mother murmured hellos to the children and then Blythe dared to look at Colt and Allison to gauge their reaction. Colt had been with her brother and the others when they’d burst into Will’s cabin last Sunday morning, but she didn’t recall him commenting on the situation one way or the other.
There was no censure in the eyes of the newlyweds, who were both smiling. A relieved breath trickled from Blythe. She watched as Allison excused herself and made her way toward their table.
“Hello, Allison,” Blythe said. “Please. Sit for a minute if you’ve finished your meal.”
“Thank you.” The former schoolteacher pulled out an extra chair and got right to the point. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.”
Allison nodded, accepting Blythe’s answer, but the expression in her eyes said she didn’t believe a word of it. “How are things going at school? More to the point, how are my two doing?”
Blythe thought it was wonderful that Allison now considered Colt’s two children her own. She tried to smile. “Cilla and Brady are good students, but to say things have been rough is putting it mildly. At least four mothers came Monday and Tuesday and told me they’re planning to talk to Homer about replacing me. I’ve been at home sick the latter part of the week, so I was at least spared the agony of hearing what a horrid person I am for the past few days.”
Allison winked at her. “Don’t worry about it. There isn’t much anyone can do right now but complain. You were the answer to Homer’s prayers when you came to town, and there’s no one else to step in if he lets you go. He’ll use Lydia to fill in, but she doesn’t have the credentials she needs to teach full-time. Colt knows Homer pretty well, and he says he’ll use the ‘don’t judge’ tactic along with the ‘Will was sick, it was storming’ approach.” She reached out and covered Blythe’s hand with hers. “I’ve been where you are.”
Wolf Creek Wife Page 7