“Rebecca?”
She lifted her head to Seth standing before her, his brow wrinkled with concern and confusion. Her breath hitched with the snuffles of a sniveling child, but her eyes bore into him with the contempt of a full-grown woman.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
“As if you care.”
“Becca, I—”
“Don’t call me that.” She rose, shifting her valise to one hand and swiping away her tears with the other.
“Did Nathan hurt you?”
“Not the way you did.” The impact of her words was plain and, for a moment, she regretted them. “No.”
“Why did he leave?”
“He had to go home to his wife.”
The color drained from Seth’s face, but heat rose in hers. Becca bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “You should have left me in the wilderness,” she blurted before emotion could overtake her again. “I wish we’d never met.”
She pushed past Seth as fresh tears began to flow. She didn’t know where she would go or what she would do, but she was educated and able. Surely she could find a respectable way to provide for herself.
A sob caught in her throat.
Who was she kidding? She was a woman with no family and even less means. She’d end up a beggar—or worse, a soiled dove selling her body in some saloon.
Seth made a grab for her arm and she jerked it away.
“Rebecca.”
She spun around and glared at him. “What!” She practically shook with rage and despair. “I tried to tell you no one wanted me, but you wouldn’t listen. You dragged me here. You made me h—hope. Now—” Her breath hitched again. “Now I have nothing.”
“You still have your parents.”
“No. I don’t!” she cried as the open admission loosed all her pent-up pain. “They’re the ones who left me there!” Becca clamped a hand over her mouth as roars of anguish clawed to get out. She wished she’d never been born.
Seth took hold of her. “I’m so sorry, Rebecca.”
She wanted to scream at him and pound him with her fists, but the enormity of her loss had drained all her ire. A sob tore its way up her throat, followed by another, and she crumpled in his grasp.
With strong, gentle arms, he led her back to the bench and let her pour out her grief on his shoulder.
As her shudders dwindled to whimpers, he handed her his handkerchief and murmured words of reassurance, his rich voice soothing her as it vibrated through his chest. Her bout of weeping eventually ceased, but then her stomach growled, causing her to release an errant sob.
Seth put some space between them and tilted his face so he could see hers. “The hotel has a restaurant. Let me take you to lunch.”
She nodded and rose, hoping the chilly wind would cool her face before she got there. It always turned splotchy when she cried.
As they reentered the bustling town, she handed Seth his handkerchief and reached for her bag, thankful he’d had the presence of mind to lift it from where she’d dropped it and bring it along.
He shook his head. “I’ll carry it.”
His kindness melted more of her resentment. She looped her hand around his proffered arm instead.
Seth paused at the entrance of the hotel and looked down at her, his penitent eyes shaded by the brim of his hat. “I shouldn’t have let you do that alone. I’m sorry.”
Her world was falling apart, yet she couldn’t keep the corner of her mouth from lifting. “Feed me and you’re forgiven.”
After scanning the busy dining hall, Seth helped her off with her coat and hung it on a rack with his duster and hat. Becca smoothed her hair and looked herself over. Her clothes were plain and worn, but they were clean. Her coat had shielded all but the bottom half of her skirt from the dust. She unobtrusively eyed the haze that circled the dark brown fabric. Maybe no one would notice in the dim light.
A young man of no more than sixteen, dressed in a white shirt and dark trousers, approached them and smiled. “Welcome to Aubrey House.”
“Could you seat us someplace quiet?” Seth asked.
“Certainly, Sir.” The youth led them to the rear corner of the room where several tables stood empty and readied a small, square table covered in crisp white cloth.
Seth helped Becca with her chair, and then he sat across from her and ordered for them as though he did this every day.
He lifted his glass and took a sip of water as the waiter walked away. “Are you pleased with what I chose?”
“Yes. I love roast beef.”
“I figured so. You practically drooled when he mentioned it.”
Seth was trying to cheer her and Becca faintly smiled at the attempt, but nothing could lift her out of the pit of hopelessness that had swallowed her whole.
“Today for dessert, we have apple pie,” the waiter said as he cleared their plates. “Shall I bring you some?”
Seth raised a brow at her.
Becca gave a small shake of her head. “No, thank you.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. Despite her hunger and the fine food, she’d done well to force lunch down.
“Just one, then,” he told the waiter. “And two coffees.”
The number of patrons had dwindled, and Becca welcomed the reduction of curious eyes. But the silence gave unwelcome rein to her thoughts. Before she knew it, Seth’s pie was gone and her coffee was tepid.
“Rebecca,” he said, gaining her attention.
She readied herself for the interrogation she’d known all along would come. At least he’d let her finish eating first.
Seth’s chest rose and fell with a heavy breath. “I owe you an apology.”
The unexpected turn further shook the fog loose. “I meant what I said—apology accepted.”
“No, I’m speaking of how I treated you on the trail these last few weeks. I was rude and harsh. You didn’t deserve that.”
He was right, but she wasn’t sure what to say.
“I thought—” He sighed. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. It was wrong.”
She traced the ring of moisture left by her glass. “I’m sorry you wasted your savings and your time bringing me here.”
He reached across the table and stilled her fingers with his. “My time and my money are mine to spend. And giving you a chance at life was worth it.”
Even if I’m out of chances?
Seth released her hand and leaned back in his chair. “Will you tell me what Nathan said?”
Becca returned her hand to her lap. “He lives in a neighboring town. He got married last week.”
Her quiet words barely reached his ears, but they held his chest in a startling grip. By hiding from him, she delayed their arrival by more than six weeks. If she’d left with him the first time...
Seth willed his lungs to fill as Becca cleared her throat and went on.
“He told me they looked for me for two days, but then the captain called off the search.”
“Did he say anything about your parents?”
She lifted a shoulder. “He said they were upset.”
“Does he know where they are?”
“No.” She reached for the end of her braid and stared at the table. “They fell behind after crossing the river into California. Charlotte said the same thing.” Her fingers stopped twisting, and she looked up. “She was in the store when you dropped me off. We talked for a while.”
That explained a lot. “Have you spoken to anyone else?”
“No.”
He took a sip of coffee, and it churned in his stomach. This wasn’t looking good. “What else did Charlotte say?”
Becca’s eyes were aimed at him, but her attention was a hundred miles away. Her fingers started moving again. “The rocks that blocked the trail were cleared sooner than expected, so Charlotte told my ma where I’d gone. She assumed they were going to look for me when Pa told her to leave with the train—that he and Ma would catch up later—but then she saw my
ma removing the barrels from the wagon when she passed by. She didn’t understand why at the time.
“When my parents rejoined the train that evening, they told the others I was sleeping. Then, the next morning, when people began asking about me, Ma discovered I was missing.”
Seth’s whole frame sagged as Becca’s bleak admission further weighted his heavy heart. He’d been so sure she was wrong.
“Well, that explains why the scouts didn’t find you,” he said, sitting forward and returning his cup to its saucer. “You could have been sitting in plain view the entire time and it wouldn’t have mattered. They were looking in the wrong place.”
Conscious occupancy returned to her eyes. “You’re right. I didn’t even think of that.” Her gaze dropped to her lap. “There’s something else... When the scouts didn’t find me, the captain ordered a search of the train. They found some of my things in Melvin Cantwell’s wagon.”
“That doesn’t make sense. How—” He sighed. “Your parents planted it... made him the scapegoat.”
Becca nodded. Her eyes were damp, and her skin was as pale as the porcelain cup that sat untouched in front of her.
Seth grimaced, his teeth set on edge by the logical conclusion. The trail had its own set of rules. “Let me guess. He never made it to trial.”
She didn’t respond, but she didn’t have to.
“Was Nathan involved?”
Her head shot up. “No!”
“What about your father?”
“No.” Her hand dropped from her braid. “Not with... that, anyway.”
But his actions, and possibly her mother’s, led to an innocent man’s demise.
Well, damn it all, if this wasn’t a holy mess. He’d planned to leave the choice up to Becca, but now he would be forced to involve the law. The mere thought of it made him sick—both the crime and what turning her own parents in would do to her.
She glanced over her shoulder at the nearly-empty dining room, then aimed an unfocused gaze in the direction of her cup. “I grew up thinking my parents were such good people. I knew they weren’t perfect, but I don’t understand how I could have been so wrong about them. They did things they taught me not to do—worse. They did things I would never even think to do.” Haggard eyes lifted and stared into his. “They’re the people who raised me, and I feel like I don’t know them at all.”
Seth ached for her. He’d never met the Garveys, but the impression he got from Becca’s drawings and her recollections reminded him of his own ma and pa. Her disappointment was shared.
A sad smile ghosted across her face. “At least I was right about Nathan.”
“You still love him, don’t you?”
She looked down at her fingers picking at a nub in the weave of the cloth. “Part of me still cares for him, yes. I mean, if my parents hadn’t left me behind, Nathan and I...” Her lip trembled. “We’d be married.”
“Do you think you could find a place in your heart for someone else?”
She looked up at him with liquid eyes.
Seth took her hand in his and hated himself for what he was about to do. He was a bastard as much as a saint. “I don’t have much to offer, and I’m probably not the kind of man you dreamed of spending your life with, but I’ll spend the rest of my days taking care of you and giving you the best life I can. Will you marry me?”
Becca’s mouth fell open, and then she closed it and swallowed as confusion claimed her brow. She pulled her hand from his and shook her head. “You don’t have to do this. I’m grateful to you for bringing me to California, but you don’t need to rescue me anymore.”
“I’m not rescuing you. I’m asking you to marry me because I love you.”
A derisive note left her throat. “Don’t confuse love with pity and make a promise you’ll regret just because you feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t pity you, Rebecca. I love you. I have for a long time. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself, or you.” He grasped her hand again and brushed her knuckles with his thumb. “I wanted better for you than someone like me, but I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else. I’m selfish. I want you all to myself, forever.”
She stared at him, and then at their hands.
The silence stretched on until it grew painful, and Seth ignored the growing ache in his heart. “I know you don’t have the highest opinion of me, and I plan to change that; but if you don’t love me, if you don’t think you could grow to love me in time, then I’ll let you go. It’ll kill me, but I’ll give you your freedom and walk away.”
She lifted her face, tears edging her lids.
Rejection.
Seth mustered the strength it would take to back his words with action. He wasn’t sure he could do it.
“I care about you...” Becca began.
“But you don’t love me.”
She shook her head. “No,” she whispered, “that’s the problem. I do love you.”
“You do?”
She nodded, causing a tear to break loose from her lashes and roll down her cheek.
“You want someone better.”
“No.”
“It’s all right.” He let go of her hand. “You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings.”
“I’m not. You’re one of the bravest, most honorable men I’ve ever met. It’s just—” She wiped the tear from her face and a second one took its place. “I feel like a traitor. I was betrothed to someone, and I fell in love with someone else.”
“Nathan married someone else. He gave up on you.”
“Yes. But I gave up on him, too.”
Seth pulled the handkerchief from his pocket, still damp with her earlier tears. He’d scarcely placed it in her hand when a murmur of insistent voices drew his attention to a group of people standing just inside the door.
The waiter glanced back at him, then continued to speak to them in hushed tones.
Three men and a woman, all but one of them dressed to the teeth, kept peering over him, their heads bobbing up and down in turns like a nervous clutch of chickens.
The oldest of the men, a distinguished fellow with graying hair, shouldered past the waiter and led the group right up to their table. “Are you Seth Emerson?”
“I am.” He held the man’s gaze long enough to challenge the dominance in his eyes, and then scanned the other three sets that were inspecting him. He paused when he got to a feminine green pair that looked oddly familiar.
“I’m Judge Tate,” the man said, regaining Seth’s attention. He indicated the young, affluent couple to his left—the man dressed like some wealthy easterner, and the woman trussed up in an outfit as vainglorious as her expression and as starched as her spine. “This is Harrison Bradford, treasurer of Blackwater, and his wife, Charlotte.”
I knew it.
When the judge didn’t introduce the other man, Seth hooked a thumb toward the modestly dressed quinquagenarian. “And him?”
Tate cleared his throat, though from irritation or chagrin, Seth couldn’t be sure. “That’s Reverend Bell.”
The potbellied preacher offered a kind-but-shaky smile and murmured a greeting. Hmph. For a man whose job it was to assemble and care for a flock, he looked none too at ease with people.
Judge Tate eyed Rebecca, then locked gazes with Seth. “We need to have a word with you.”
Rude or not, Seth remained seated. The skin on his neck had prickled the moment the group walked in, and he wasn’t about to leave Becca. “Anything you have to say to me, you can say right here.”
Tate glanced at her again. “I had hoped to spare the young lady some embarrassment, but if you insist.” He smoothed the front of his waistcoat and lifted his chin. “It has come to our attention that you’re traveling alone with Miss Garvey and, according to the proprietor of the hotel, you’ve only reserved a single room for the night.”
Seth’s blood boiled. He wanted to knock these people off their collective high horse and tell them to mind their own affairs, but he didn’
t, for Rebecca’s sake. That, and it would likely be a waste of breath. “I’d planned to let Miss Garvey have the room to herself and go stay at the livery.” He’d also planned to sneak in after dark and bed down like a surly guard dog just inside her door, but they didn’t need to know that.
“Be that as it may, you’ve been traveling without a chaperone, casting suspicion on Miss Garvey’s reputation. The residents of Blackwater place great value on moral integrity. We don’t allow loose behavior in our town.”
That explained the lack of a saloon.
Propelled by his rising temper, Seth stood, causing the entire group to tilt their heads and look up. “Miss Garvey—who happens to have the most moral integrity of any lady I’ve ever met—was left behind by a wagon train. She was living in a cave.”
“Circumstances don’t matter,” Harrison Bradford said coldly.
“What are you saying? That I should have left her in the wilderness to die?”
Reverend Bell wrung his hands. “Well, no, uh, of course not. It’s just that, well, her reputation is compromised and, uh—”
Bradford waved the stammering away. “As I said, circumstances don’t matter. What’s done is done.”
“Charlotte?” Becca said, her voice thready with disbelief. “You agree with them?”
For a moment, Charlotte’s smug exterior faltered. Then she resumed the bearing of her husband—glaring down as though Becca were a smear of dung on her fancy shoes.
Reverend Bell tugged at the front of his collar. “Like Mr. Bradford said, what’s done is done. But there’s a simple solution to this,” he added quickly, with a nod and a hopeful smile.
“And what would that be?”
“Why, just marry the girl. That’ll set everything to rights.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Eyes wide with candor, the preacher shook his head, jiggling his jowls and causing a few strands of his thinning hair to shake loose.
“And if I don’t?”
Tate didn’t blink. “Then you and Miss Garvey will be escorted out of town.”
“Unbelievable,” Seth muttered.
He drew a deep breath before speaking again. Keeping the contempt out of his voice wasn’t easy. The smugness either. “Well, you’re a little late. I already proposed.”
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