Come Back

by Melissa Maygrove

  Becca sharply inhaled at the familiar flash of longing. When she learned that Nathan was so newly married, she’d had the very same thought. But the sensation today was fleeting and, more importantly, irrelevant. She could honestly claim she no longer harbored that regret.

  Gripping Seth’s chin between her thumb and forefinger, she angled his face towards hers and looked him square in the eyes. “This is the last time we will have this discussion, so listen well.

  “It touches my heart that you care enough about my future to wish me with another man, but I don’t ever want to hear you speak this way again. I believe things happen for a purpose. I wouldn’t change the course of my life, even if I could.

  “I used to think Nathan was better suited to me than you, but I don’t think that anymore. He’s a fine man, and had we married, we would have had a good life together—of that I’m certain. But Nathan isn’t you. He’s kind and honorable, but he doesn’t have your sense of humor. He’s handsome and wealthy, but he’s never looked at me the way you do—like you can’t wait another moment to kiss me, like you’ll die if we don’t touch. Like—” Her voice wavered. “Like I’m the center of your world.”

  Becca drew a steadying breath. “You are the one I want, Seth—you and only you. I’ll gladly live here with my parents if that’s what you choose, but I’m married to you. Wherever you go, I’ll follow. Whatever choices you make, I’ll stand by your side. However easy or hard our life turns out, that is how it will be. So stop letting regret and fear and doubt keep you from making plans and being happy.”

  He stared at her with watery eyes, and his throat bobbed with a swallow.

  Becca released his chin and planted a kiss on his stubbled jaw. “You sacrificed everything you had to save me. I’m not going to hold it against you now.”

  He held her close for several minutes before drawing their upper bodies apart and looking at her again. “Why did you hide from me?”

  She didn’t want to answer, but the image of him calling to her from the base of that snowy canyon invaded her mind and crumbled her defenses. “I told myself it was because I didn’t want to be taken somewhere just to be abandoned again. But that was only part of the reason. The truth is, I didn’t want to be rescued at all.”

  She placed a finger on his parting lips. “When you first convinced me to go to the outpost with you, I planned to get some supplies for my cave and send you on your way, alone. I didn’t want to find Nathan or my parents, because I was too angry at them... too hurt by them.” She lowered her hand. “And going someplace else just to be left again wouldn’t have solved anything. Not on the inside, anyway. I believed no one wanted me, that I was ruined and unlovable. I didn’t care if I lived or died.”

  “Becca...” The misery filling his eyes pricked her heart.

  She offered up a small smile. Be careful what you ask. “During the months before you found me, I often climbed to the cliff overlooking the trail with plans to throw myself off. I’d stand at the edge, watching the pebbles dislodged by my boots tumble to the ground below. But I could never do it, never take that last step.

  “I’d end up sitting there for hours, unable to make a decision. Then, come dusk, I’d trudge back to my cave, perturbed with myself for being such a coward.”

  His eyes closed for a long moment, then opened again. “I’m glad your stubborn streak chose those times to leave.”

  Her smile was stronger this time. “I don’t think it did.”

  “No?”

  She shook her head and focused on the tap of his pulse near the hollow of his throat. “Even though I believed I’d been rejected by the people I loved, that all the evidence pointed to that, I couldn’t be certain. Deep inside, I clung to that tiny scrap of hope.

  “And, either way,” she said, looking up at him again, “I didn’t really want to die. I just wanted to stop hurting.”

  Seth closed his eyes again and clutched her to his chest.

  Becca held him, too. She pressed her ear to the space over his heart. The rapid pounding slowed, then quickened again.

  “What if I hadn’t come back?” he rasped. “You might’ve—” His grip tightened as a strangled sound swallowed the rest of his words.

  “But you did. And now I have you.”

  He planted a lingering kiss on her forehead. “You’ll always have me.”

  The steady rise and fall of his chest lulled her, but her mind wouldn’t rest. “It’s strange to think I almost ended my life over something that wasn’t true.”

  She drew back enough to see his face. “What about you? You and your parents...? You should at least pay them a visit and speak with them, Seth. What if you’re making choices based on wrong information?” He looked away with an expression of irritation and pain, but she didn’t back down. “Even if you aren’t, you’ll be haunted by it the rest of your life if you never go.”

  At the first break in the early January weather, Becca helped Seth pack the wagon for the four-day journey to his father’s house. It was with no small amount of ambivalence that she said goodbye to her parents, though she’d see them again very soon. As the two of them drove away, she was thankful for the cold air that blanched her face and dried her threatening tears.

  Seth had offered to make the trip alone, but she would never have let him. She was the one who’d urged him to do this—she would be there to support him if things went well and to console him if they did not. At best, she expected a mixed resolution. Even if his parents held no ill will, he likely faced confirmation of the loss of his sister.

  That fact plagued Becca most and relentlessly tugged at her heart—along with gaining the truth of his parents’ feelings toward him, Seth would lose any hope that Rachel might still be alive.

  During the next three days, Becca helped with chores, cooked the meals, and tried to be good company. During the nights, she wrapped Seth in her arms and held him close, hoping to impart strength and peace along with her warmth.

  He was stoic, even grim faced at times, but he’d planned the trip without further prompting from her. And she took comfort in that. Seth teased her about being stubborn, yet he was the truly obstinate one. He wouldn’t be doing this if he didn’t want to go.

  Midafternoon on the fourth day, they topped a hill and spied a sizable farm below. A stately, two-story house crowned a smaller rise, surrounded by acres of plowed land and rolling pasture. Winter had dulled the colors and stolen the leaves from the trees—and still, the place was impressive. It had to be magnificent in spring.

  Seth stopped the wagon and stared.

  “Is this it?”

  “Yes.” His voice was as flat as his expression, but it didn’t fool her. He was knotted more than a fisherman’s net on the inside. His arms were casually bent, and his gloved hands cradled the reins with practiced ease, yet he rubbed the straps with his thumbs as if he aimed to wear clean through the leather.

  Becca still remembered, vividly, how she felt facing her parents after all that time. And she’d had some indication of how things would go. Seth’s situation was far less favorable, and he had nothing. She placed a hand on his forearm and offered a small-but-reassuring smile.

  He smiled back, but it was weak and weary.

  Becca scooted closer. She looped her arm in his and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. Such familiarity in broad daylight was highly improper, but no one was present to see.

  Seth shifted the reins into one hand long enough to place his other on top of hers and squeeze. He studied the house again, then snapped the straps and urged the team forward with a sharp click of his tongue.

  Becca gripped Seth’s shoulders as he swung her down from the wagon seat where he’d parked in the yard. A few horses milled about in a nearby paddock—the only apparent witnesses to their arrival. Seth gazed out over the land. When he turned and faced the house, she did likewise and stood by her husband in silent support.

  A tall, slender woman eased out the door and onto the porch. Her hand lifted
to conceal parted lips. A long moment later, it slid to the base of her throat. Becca wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw the trace of a tremulous smile.

  Seth exhaled, and some of the tension in his shoulders went away. He offered Becca his arm, and they cautiously approached.

  The middle-aged woman moved to the edge of the porch, her dun-colored skirt softly rippling in the breeze. Her hair was the color of Seth’s, but she had green eyes.

  Seth stopped at the base of the stairs. His chin was level and his shoulders were, too, but the muscles of his forearm bunched so tightly, they quivered. “Hello, Ma.”

  His mother clutched her fine-boned hands at her waist. She didn’t look angry and she seemed to be shedding happy tears, but she wasn’t rushing forward to embrace him. “Hello, Seth.”

  Seth cleared his throat. “Ma, I’d like you to meet my wife, Rebecca.”

  A spark of surprise shot across her face. She recovered and smiled politely. “It’s good to meet you, Rebecca.”

  “It’s good to meet you, too, Mrs. Emerson.”

  A bit more warmth crept into her smile. “Please, call me Abigail.”

  The narrow nose and high cheeks of his mother’s face reminded Becca of a statue she’d once seen. Abigail Emerson looked to be one of those women who was beautiful no matter what—whether happy or sad, ill or well. She was pretty when she cried, that much was so, and she would likely keep her looks when she grew old.

  Seth lowered his arm. Becca released him, but kept her hand close to his. He discretely threaded his fingers through hers, among the folds of her skirt. When he drew his next breath, she readied herself for anything and gave his hand a gentle squeeze for luck.

  “I came to speak with Pa... if he’s willing to speak with me.”

  Abigail’s fair brows knitted slightly. “He’s out riding the fence line right now. I won’t answer for him, but I think he will.”

  Seth released a breath and nodded. “We’ve been traveling since first light. Would it be all right if Rebecca warmed herself by your fire?”

  “Yes, of course.” Abigail reached out to Becca and took her hand as she ascended the porch. Then she turned a pair of softening eyes on Seth. “I’ll make coffee. Come inside once you stable your horses.”

  Seth paused at the entrance to the barn. It was twice the size of the one at his childhood home and half a country away, yet heinous memories assaulted him as ruthlessly as the men who’d attacked his sister. He’d apologized to Rachel a million times in his mind. Now, it seemed, the best he might do is visit her grave.

  “C’mon, boy.” He led Cyrus to the first unoccupied stall, then opened the next one for Zeus. Seth took in his surroundings as he tended his team. The structure was generous and the equipment, first-rate. His pa had done well for himself.

  The prospect of facing his father weighed on Seth as he made his way back to the house. He hadn’t been turned away, but he hadn’t been greeted like the prodigal son either. His ma’s nature was to be quiet and respectful; she was a walking, breathing lesson on discretion. But with that, she was keenly observant and sharp of mind. That she wasn’t sure enough of his pa’s wishes to answer for him didn’t bode well.

  At least she’d been kind to Rebecca.

  Seth climbed the steps at the side of the porch, took the corner, and headed for the front door. The presence of a woman standing in his path ground his feet to a halt. His gaze took her in from her wreath of auburn hair, down over her dark green calico dress, to her prominent belly that was heavily swollen with child. His eyes met hers and his heart turned inside out. “Rachel?”

  A sweet smile spread across her face, making the moisture clinging to her lashes glisten.

  Seth fisted his hands at his sides as he worked to squelch the spasms in his chest that threatened to unman him. He wanted to throw his arms around her to assure himself she was real, but touching her would completely do him in.

  His disbelieving eyes drank her in one more time. “You— You look well.”

  “I am.” She glanced down at her burgeoning middle when his gaze wandered there again. “I’m Rachel Evans now. I married two years ago, before we moved west.” She clutched the tails of her cream-colored crocheted shawl in one hand and gestured toward the north with the other. “Jacob and I live in a house on the back half of the land.”

  Seth lifted his chin in acknowledgement, then shifted on his boots. Not only was his sister alive, but she was well and apparently happy—the only denouement that had never played out in his mind. He was at a loss for words.

  Rachel smiled at him again. “Welcome home.”

  The joy that had flooded him dimmed. “Thank you. But I’m not sure welcome is what I am. Ma’s greeting was tepid, and she wasn’t sure if Pa would even talk to me.”

  “You showed up out of the blue. Give them time.”

  Seth sighed. “I will, but I don’t know what good it’ll do. They hate me.”

  “No they don’t.”

  “Yes they do. They barely spoke to me after— They blame me, and rightly so.”

  “No they don’t. They blame themselves. I...” Her voice softened, and a shadow ghosted across her face. “I was in the barn alone because Ma sent me.”

  “Why would she—”

  “Just listen to me. It’s not your fault.” Rachel led him to a grouping of chairs on the porch and urged him to sit. He did so, but only after helping her into one of the chairs.

  “When Pa went out to call the men to breakfast, they were gone. Their horses, everything, gone. He was surprised they didn’t stick around to eat—even checked to make sure they hadn’t stolen from us. He finally admitted he was wrong about them and said they must have wanted to get an early start.

  “Ma was perturbed because she’d cooked so much food. She started grumbling about how she was going to keep it all from spoiling before it got eaten and told me to find you. Pa didn’t object. Both of them thought I’d be perfectly safe or they wouldn’t have sent me. You have to believe that, Seth. You know how they are.”

  She was right, but it didn’t assuage his guilt much. “I didn’t even try to help you.”

  “Yes you did.”

  Seth pounded the arm of the chair. “I should have tried harder,” he growled. “I should have fought them.”

  “No.” Fresh tears glistened in her eyes as she clasped her hand over his fist. “The man behind you was twice your size, and they both had knives. If you had fought them, they would have killed you.”

  “Do you wish they had?”

  Her eyes went wide. “Killed you?”

  He nodded.

  “No. Never! I didn’t blame you then, and I don’t blame you now.”

  Rachel’s long brown lashes lowered, grazing her cheeks. Then a pained gaze met his. “For a while, though, I wished they’d killed me. I thought my life was ruined and I wanted to die. I couldn’t get those images out of my mind, no matter how hard I tried.” Her voice had dwindled to a whisper. “I didn’t have to be asleep to have nightmares.”

  “And seeing me every day didn’t help,” Seth muttered.

  “You’re wrong. Having you with me when... Your presence helped me get through it. And then afterward, every time I saw you—”

  “You relived the attack.”

  “No. But you did, and I didn’t want you to.”

  Seth felt his brow crease and his sister’s cool fingers as she rubbed it away.

  “I left because I thought you’d be better off without me,” he said.

  “I know. And in a way, I was.” She rubbed away another crease. “When you left, it forced me to think of someone other than myself. I realized I was hurting the people around me by giving up. I started eating the next day.

  “It hasn’t been easy, and I’ll never be the same, but I’ve made my peace with it. I have a man who loves me, and now a child. They give me a reason to keep going when the bad days come.”

  “Is your husband good to you?”

  “Yes. Jacob
’s very kind, and he’s the most patient person I know. He’s had to be.” She looked up at him through her lashes, splotches of pink dotting her cheeks. “I’m not always the kind of wife I should be, the kind he deserves.”

  “You’re a fine woman, Rachel. He’s lucky to have you.”

  Now the crease was between her brows. “Jacob tells me the same thing.”

  “He’d better. And he’d better be good to you.”

  “He is.” She patted Seth’s hand, then leaned back and pulled her shawl up around her shoulders. “Jacob lost his first wife when she gave birth. His firstborn, too. It was horrible and he still grieves, but it changed the way he views life.” An introspective smile drifted across her lips. “We’re an odd, broken pair, but we’re good for each other.”

  Seth sat for a moment, thinking about all she’d said. “We should go back inside. It’s too cold out here for you.” He rose and helped his sister up. Before he could offer her his arm, she embraced him and hugged him tight.

  “I’m glad you came back.”

  “Me, too.” Emotion clogged his throat. “I’ve spent the last five years thinking you were dead.”

  Rachel drew away, a smile crinkling the skin around her moist eyes. “No. Just learning how to live.”

  The air in the foyer smelled of new wood and old scents—yeast and apples and onions, like his childhood home. After hanging up his hat and coat, Seth followed his sister and the melodious sound of female voices into the sitting room. His wife and his mother shared a settee near the fire. Their amiable postures and pleasant expressions set his mind a little more at ease.

  His mother looked up, her gaze bouncing back and forth from him to his sister. Her bearing relaxed and she settled her clear green eyes on him. “Your wife has been telling me the story of how you two met. Mercy, Seth.” She laid a palm on her chest. “It’s a good thing I learned of your harrowing journey after the fact, with you standing alive and well before me.”