Come Back

by Melissa Maygrove

  “What? How did my things—” Becca’s heart stopped as realization hit. Her parents must have put them there.

  “Your parents just stood by and watched. They didn’t even speak up when Mr. Cantwell was accused. When word got around he had some of your things, a few of the men carried him off. No one ever saw him again.”

  Her stomach lurched. “Nathan wasn’t involved, was he?”

  Charlotte fingered the ecru lace adorning her cuffs. “No.”

  “What about my Pa?”

  “No.”

  Becca released a breath, then squelched the derisive note rising up her throat. It was perfectly all right to leave your own daughter to die in the wilderness, but not to kill a man to cover your crime. Some honorable set of values that was.

  As the crippled walls of her childhood ideals crumbled, her anger disintegrated with it. She should be angry and hurt and sad, but all she felt was empty.

  “Becca...? Is there anything I can do?”

  “No.” Becca pasted on the best face she could. “Thank you for offering.”

  The bell above the door rang, and a man dressed in a black morning coat over gray waistcoat and trousers stepped into the store. He looked like something out of a catalog, and he looked right at Charlotte. “You’ve been here quite a while, dear. Need I fear the bill?”

  Charlotte blushed as she and Becca rose to their feet. “No, no. I bumped into a friend of mine.” She gestured politely. “Rebecca Garvey, this is my husband, Harrison Bradford.”

  Harrison smiled—the way a learned person regards a simpleton—and then he bowed to Becca’s proffered hand, but didn’t let it touch his lips. “A pleasure, Miss Garvey.”

  “Likewise, Mr. Bradford.” Becca withdrew her hand and smiled back. He obviously regarded her as inferior. At least he had the decency to pretend.

  With eyes the color of ice, he gave her the same critical assessment his wife had. “You must be new in town.”

  “Yes. I—”

  “Rebecca just arrived,” Charlotte cut in. “She’s been traveling for quite a while and she’s exhausted. I’m sure she’d rather we didn’t delay her any longer.”

  Becca closed her mouth, perplexed by the interruption, but thankful for it all the same.

  “I hate to rush off,” Charlotte said to her, “but the town council is meeting this morning. Harrison’s father is the mayor of Blackwater and Harrison is the treasurer, so we’re expected to attend.” Her failed attempt at humility announced it wasn’t a hardship. “Perhaps we can get together later for tea.” Her failed attempt at hospitality wasn’t lost on Becca either.

  “Perhaps.”

  Harrison tipped his hat. “Good day, Miss Garvey.”

  Becca managed to hold a smile in place until they left. Then her heart deflated and she sank back down on the settee. She and Seth had made the arduous trip for nothing.

  Well, maybe not nothing. There was still Nathan.

  Seth sifted through his coins and handed one to the livery worker, hoping Becca’s search wouldn’t last much longer. He was running out of funds.

  Another part of him hoped it would last forever. Despite the callous way he’d been treating her for weeks, he didn’t want to ever let her go.

  “Is that enough for tonight?” he asked the rangy young man.

  “Yes sir, Mr. Emerson.”

  Seth glanced at the wagon and the team, the bulk of his earthly possessions. “Can I be assured my things will be safe here?”

  “Oh, yes sir.” The lad’s head bobbed up and down along with his Adam’s apple. “I’ll guard them personally.”

  “If a lady by the name of Rebecca Garvey stops by, allow her access to anything she needs.”

  “Garvey. Will do, sir.”

  Seth cursed his next words, but he had a bad feeling about how things would go. Bad for him. “If for some reason I don’t return, give her everything—the wagon, the team—everything.”

  “Uh, yes sir.”

  Seth watched the youth lead Cyrus and Zeus to their stalls, and then he left for the general store. For now, at least, Becca needed him.

  A bell tinkled overhead as he walked inside and removed his hat. Women milled about, oohing over this and gossiping about that, but none of them was Rebecca.

  The storekeeper smiled as he approached the counter. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for a young lady I dropped off earlier.”

  “Light brown hair? Dark wool coat?”

  “Yes.”

  He pointed to a spot near the corner of the store. “I believe she’s over there.”

  Seth made his way through the tables of goods to a small sitting area to the right of the door. His throat tightened.

  Like a lost child, Becca sat with her hands in her lap and her shoulders slumped, staring at a spot on the floor.

  “Becca?”

  She lifted her head and smiled, but the pain behind the mask was so plain, it hit him like a hoof to the chest.

  God, he was a bastard. After treating her no better than the dirt on his boots for weeks, he’d dumped her here like a load of rotten trash. She probably thought he hated her. But, hell. What other choice did he have? They’d grown too close—developed too many feelings for each other. Driving that wedge was the only way to honor the commitment he’d made and push her into the arms of her intended.

  Seth held out his hand to help her up, but she rose without his aid. “Did you do any shopping?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? You used up your soap, and I’m sure you’d like some new clothes.” He could scarcely afford it, but he’d buy them for her anyway. It was the least he could do.

  “Thank you, but I don’t want anything.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I have a change of clothes in my bag, and we have plenty of soap.”

  Yeah, but it doesn’t smell like jasmine. “At least let me buy you a dress to wear when we find your parents.”

  Was that a wince?

  Shit. Did she really dread traveling with him that much?

  Becca drew a deep breath and offered another pasted-on smile. “You’ve spent enough money on me already. The clothes I have will suffice.”

  Seth scratched his jaw, then smoothed the furrows he’d made in his beard. “All right, then. Let’s start asking around and see what we find.”

  The storekeeper and the blacksmith weren’t of any help, and he’d already questioned workers at the hotel and the livery. He’d even stopped several random citizens on the street. They were running out of options.

  Oddly, Becca was unfazed. She just followed along and let him ask all the questions. She offered information at times, but she rarely showed any emotion. In fact, she seemed more interested in news about Nathan than getting word of her folks.

  Seth glanced her way and sighed. That was what he wanted, right—the reason he’d pushed her away?

  It was. But it still hurt like hell.

  At the first break in traffic, they crossed the street and headed for the mill at the edge of town. The sound of rushing water blended with the whine of a saw in the distance, and the scents of oak and cedar grew more pungent with every step.

  “If we don’t have any luck here,” Seth said, “we’ll take a break for lunch.” He hadn’t expected to hit a dead end so soon. He needed a chance to think and decide what to do. And he needed to talk with Becca. She had every reason to despise him—he wouldn’t dare argue that—but something had changed. Something about her closed off demeanor wasn’t right.

  The throng of people and conveyances had thinned and disappeared by the time they reached the sidewalk edging the lumber yard. New boards clattered as they were loaded into the back of a farm wagon up ahead. Then parting words rumbled as the worker disappeared back into the mill.

  Becca halted and stared as the customer stepped from behind the bed.

  So did Seth. He’d know that face anywhere. It belonged to the man in Becca’s crumpled drawing.

&
nbsp; “It’s Nathan,” Becca whispered. She looked up at him with big round eyes. “I...”

  “You should go talk to him,” Seth supplied, his chest aching with every word. “Want me to hold your valise?”

  “No, um. I should— I’ll keep it.”

  She looked at Nathan again, then back at him.

  “Do you want me to go with you?” Say yes.

  “No. I...” The indecision on her face, the mix of apology and gratitude, was a momentary balm.

  Seth forced a smile. As much as he wanted to interrogate the jackass who’d left her behind, this was something she wanted to do by herself. “Go on.” His words fell like salt on his wounded heart. “Catch him before he leaves.”

  Becca wet her lips and drew a shaky breath. She turned away from him and walked toward her intended.

  Fate sucked the air from Seth’s lungs as he backed away and obscured himself in the shadows. He wanted to run to the woman who’d stolen his heart and tell her he’d changed his mind, but he fisted his hands and forced his feet to stay put.

  Long before they met, she’d made someone a promise. He needed to let her go.

  He needed to let her keep it.

  Becca’s boots dragged in the dust as she neared the man who held the fate of her future in his hands. She tried to call his name, but her voice wouldn’t work. That didn’t keep the word from rushing through her mind in a swirl of longing and anger and pain.

  Nathan.

  He was as handsome as she remembered, tall and lean beneath the work clothes he wore. His hair was shorter and hidden by his hat, but the few strands that showed gleamed the same coal black as the locks that used to fall across his forehead when he would walk with her and talk on the trail.

  What would she do if he didn’t want her anymore? And what would she do if he did?

  By the time he’d secured his load and checked his team’s harness, she stood almost close enough to touch him. Her feelings were so jumbled, she didn’t know what she wanted anymore, but she couldn’t walk away. She’d survived her parents’ rejection and she’d survived Seth’s, too. She wouldn’t turn her back on this last chance for happiness. “Nathan.”

  He turned around. “Yes?” His eyes flew open wide and his chest seized mid-breath.

  Becca’s lungs halted as well. She’d best get used to people’s reactions coming face to face with a ghost.

  “Rebecca?” His expression melted. “Oh, Rebecca.” He gathered her into his arms and clutched her to his chest. “I—” His voice broke. “Dear God.”

  Nathan squeezed her with a force that matched the emotion of his words. He held her so tightly, the buttons of his coat pressed painfully into her face and she couldn’t lift her arms to hug him back. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

  After a long moment, he let go. His hands slid down the sleeves of her coat, and then the right one lifted to touch her cheek. It never made contact. He withdrew it and lowered it to his side. “How... How are you?”

  “I’m alive.” That was all she could claim for now.

  Nathan removed his hat and glanced around. He gestured in the direction of a bench on the mill’s porch, and she sat with him there.

  Becca placed her valise on the plank at her feet, and then she folded her hands in her lap and waited for him to speak.

  As his deep blue eyes took her in, feelings played across them like clouds racing by before a storm. Relief. Regret. Guilt. Shame. Sadness. “I searched for you day and night when you went missing. I begged the captain to keep looking for you, but he made us stop. I... I thought you were dead,” he said quietly.

  She blinked in acknowledgement, then held his gaze and kept her counsel. His distress looked real and he seemed to be telling the truth, but she wanted to be sure. More than a year’s worth of pain and bitterness wasn’t easily washed away.

  “Did he hurt you, Becca?”

  “Who?”

  “Melvin Cantwell. Did he—”

  “No.” She drew a breath and chose her words. “Mr. Cantwell wasn’t involved.”

  Nathan swallowed and looked almost sick. “Not at all?”

  Becca shook her head.

  He closed his eyes and whispered what sounded like a prayer, and then his lashes lifted, revealing bleak eyes. “They killed him. They killed an innocent man.”

  “I know.”

  “If it wasn’t him... What happened to you?”

  “I— There was a miscommunication. I went for a walk, and when I returned, the wagons were gone.” She winced at his look of abject horror. “I managed to survive until I found someone willing to bring me here.”

  “I searched for you, Becca. Believe me, I did. I wanted to keep looking—even after they found your things—but by then, there were Indians in the area and the captain refused to let us search any longer.” The anguish pouring out with every word put her doubts to rest and doused the angry embers she harbored.

  “I believe you.” She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and thought of a way to change the subject. There was no use rehashing the past. Her only concern now was the future. “I’m surprised to see you here. I was told you didn’t settle in Blackwater.”

  “I didn’t. My farm is in Dorland, about fifteen miles west. I’m here because the mill broke down. I need one more load of lumber to finish my house.”

  Becca tried not to appear too hopeful.

  He took one of her hands in his. “I waited for you, Becca, long after people told me it was time to forget about you and move on. I couldn’t believe you were actually gone. I meant what I said when I asked you to marry me.” Her heart thudded against her ribs as his work-worn fingers squeezed hers gently. “But when you didn’t show up after nearly a year, I—” He swallowed. “I began courting someone else. Hannah and I were married last week.”

  Becca slid her hand from his as the last of her hope slipped away. She clasped one set of fingers with the other to keep them from trembling as her heart broke and her dreams disintegrated.

  “I’m so sorry,” Nathan said. There was a tremor in his voice, and tears lined the edges of his lids.

  “Don’t apologize,” she managed along with a watery smile. “I’m happy for you.” No matter how painful it was to say, it was the truth. Nathan was a good man; he’d done nothing wrong.

  He composed himself and cleared his throat. “Have you found your parents?”

  “No. The only person I’ve spoken with is Charlotte.”

  He grimaced. “She set her cap for me shortly after you went missing—said she was worried about me and wanted to offer me comfort, but I knew better.”

  “Why would she be interested in you?” Becca’s hand flew to her mouth. “I didn’t mean it that way. You’re a fine, well, you— She—”

  “I know what you mean. She likes fancy things and thinks she’s better than everyone else. What would she want with a farmer?” His sardonic smile faded and his boots shifted on the planks. “My family is wealthy, Rebecca. We had to pretend we weren’t as long as we were on the trail, but I think Charlotte knew.”

  “Oh.” Becca blinked. She would have never guessed. “Why did you have to pretend?”

  “My father wasn’t claiming land, he was buying it—a much larger portion than the federal grants. He had already paid and received the deed, but he had to keep it a secret, for fear someone might kill him and steal it.

  “I was going to tell you,” Nathan added with regret, “but I never got the chance.”

  “Did you tell my father?”

  “Yes. I told him when I asked for your hand.”

  Becca rolled the end of her braid between her fingers. Her parents would want her to marry well... wouldn’t they?

  “I wish I knew where your parents were so you could find them and let them know you’re alive. Your mother was in such a state, I thought she was going to die of grief. And your pa—” Nathan shook his head and sighed. “Everyone did what they could. We helped them, and they managed to keep up with us as far
as the Colorado; but once we crossed, they fell behind.”

  She dropped her hand to her lap and suppressed the urge to scoff. They weren’t grieving. They fell behind so they wouldn’t have to keep up the act anymore.

  “Do you have a place to stay?”

  “Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. At least not for tonight.

  Nathan glanced at the sky. “I wish I could talk with you more.” He stood and helped her up. “I hate leaving like this, but I have a long journey ahead. If I don’t go now, I won’t make it home before dark.”

  “I understand.”

  He reached for her face, and this time the tips of his fingers grazed her cheek. “If you ever need anything...”

  His offer was as genuine and heartfelt as they come, but the things she needed he was no longer free to give. “Thank you.”

  Filled with renewed admiration and love for a man she could never have, Becca watched him ride away. With the last of her strength, she picked up her bag and prepared herself for a long discussion with Seth.

  She turned, expecting him to be bearing down on her, brimming with all kinds of questions, but the path was empty. “Seth?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She lowered herself back onto the bench, pressed down by the weight of her circumstances. Her parents didn’t want her, and she’d been turned away by the only two men she’d ever loved. She had no future, no way to support herself. She didn’t even have the means to rent a room for the night.

  Her stomach rumbled, attesting to her human fragility when food was the last thing on her mind, and tears of bitterness wet her face. Seth had encouraged her to trust again, to hope. He had coaxed her out of her blessed numbness and made her feel. Now pain consumed her heart and singed her entire body. At least at the cave, she could bury the past and care for herself, have a tolerable existence. Now she hurt like she’d never hurt before. And she had nothing.

  Resisting the urge to swat her valise off her lap, Rebecca choked on Seth’s name and cursed the day she met him. She hugged the bag to her aching chest and sobbed.