Becca beamed up at him. “I told her what a wonderful son she raised and how lucky I am you found me.”
Seth flushed under her praise. She was trying to smooth things over for him, but the frank esteem in her eyes struck him deep in the heart and nourished his love-starved soul. He’d probably never admit it to anyone other than himself, but he couldn’t have faced his family without her by his side.
As soon as he’d eased Rachel into a comfortable chair, his mother rose and crossed the room to where he stood. “Rebecca’s right. You’re an honorable man—the kind of man I always hoped you’d be.” She gathered him into her arms. “My heart has ached for you all these years, and I’ve prayed every night for your return.” She squeezed him firmly and pressed her cheek to his. “I feared we’d never see you again when we left Ohio.”
Seth clung to his ma and hid his wet eyes in the swell of her upswept hair. He’d prepared himself so well for rejection, he hadn’t considered how overwhelming her welcoming arms would be.
The floorboards quivered beneath his feet and a door opened somewhere at the back of the house.
“Abigail?” his father called.
Apprehension dried Seth’s tears instantly as his mother pulled away and dabbed her eyes. Something told him his father’s reception wouldn’t be nearly as warm.
“Abigail,” his father called again as he came up the hall, a sharp edge of concern tempering his voice.
“In the parlor,” she replied.
“I saw a strange wagon,” he said as he rounded the corner. “Who’s h—”
Seth swallowed as his father’s gaze landed on him. Though he still looked up to the man figuratively, they now stood eye to eye, his pa thinner and his once-dark hair salted heavily with gray. Seth held his breath, his chest throbbing with each pound of his pulse.
His father’s expression of shock hardened into an angry scowl. “How dare you show your face here,” he growled, his blue eyes flashing and his hands fisting at his sides. “You—” His chest rose and fell with several seething breaths. “Get out of my house.” He turned and stalked away, leaving the bitter dictate hanging behind him in the silence.
Seth released a slow breath. Rachel had misjudged the situation. She’d always been the optimistic one—the one who looked for the good in everything and everyone... no doubt the reason she’d fared so well after what she’d been through. And she was too honest, too sincere, to ever purposely mislead him. No matter how much his wounded pride stung, he wouldn’t fault her for her idealism. He gathered what was left of his dignity and held a hand out to Becca. “Let’s go.”
The look on his lovely wife’s face lay somewhere between disbelief and devastation, and that wounded his heart. He’d lost his past, but she’d lost her future.
Becca quickly composed herself and rose from the settee. “Thank you for the coffee, Mrs. Emerson.”
His ma looked at Becca. Then him. She looked at the empty archway through which his pa had just passed. She turned back, her eyes brimming with tears and her hands pale and clutched at her waist. He’d never seen a woman more torn.
There was no remedy for it. Lawrence Emerson was an ethical man, but he’d already decided the matter and he was the source from which Seth’s own stubbornness flowed.
Seth squatted down and cradled Rachel’s hand in his own. “It was good to see you again.”
She looked at him, tears returning to her eyes. “You, too.”
“May I write to you?”
“Yes. Please, do.”
He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles and managed a smile.
As he stood and faced his mother, he drew a grating breath. The prideful part of him wanted to run from the room before he completely broke down, but these were the last moments he’d have in the presence of the woman who’d given him life and raised him with kindness and love. He refused to squander the time.
Enfolding her willowy frame in his arms, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I love you, Ma.”
She hugged him back, then took his face in her hands and kissed him between his brows the way she had so many times when he was a boy. She rested her forehead on his and wept softly.
Seth lingered there, too, no longer caring about the salty drops wetting his face.
He pulled himself away and swiped at his eyes.
His ma glanced at the archway again, then placed a staying hand on his arm and another on Becca’s. “Don’t leave yet. Let me go speak to him first.”
“Thanks, Ma, but—”
“Please,” she entreated. “You’ve come all this way. Let me try.”
Seth relented with a feeble nod. He knew his father too well to believe she could sway him on something like this, but it was late in the day and the temperature outside was dropping faster than the January sun. Maybe she could gain permission for them to stay the night.
Both his sister and his wife offered words of encouragement while he waited for his mother to return, but he barely heard them. He was too busy listening to his better judgment regarding his pa.
Still, whatever the verdict, the trip had not been for naught—seeing Rachel content was worth any amount of humiliation and hardship.
Feminine footsteps echoed from the hall. Seth looked up, bracing himself for a second and final rejection. His breath stilled in his lungs at the sight of his ma’s face—more specifically, her smile.
She held a hand out to him. “He agreed to talk to you.”
Seth’s thoughts spun as fast as the blood surging through his veins. His father may have acquiesced to his wife—she rarely failed to find the soft spot in his heart—but his dealings with males were another thing entirely. Drawing a deep, steadying breath, he wiped his clammy palms on his trousers and followed his mother out of the room and down the hall.
She stopped outside a closed door and paused, lips parting and closing, brows knitted in thought. “Your father’s a proud man,” she finally said, “but he’s a good man. Be patient with him.”
Seth watched her walk away until she disappeared through the entrance to the parlor. Praying for mercy from his father—and forbearance for them both—he knocked on the door.
“Come.” The reply was muffled but gruff.
He opened the sturdy door and stepped into the dim interior of his father’s office. Heavy brocade drapes covered the windows and a large mahogany desk filled a third of the room. A single kerosene lamp glowed from one corner of it, casting shadowy amber light on his father’s back as he stood, staring out one of the windows.
“Your mother thinks you deserve a second chance,” he said without turning around. Moving only his head, his pa looked at him, his expression sour. “I don’t.” He turned his face back to the window, and Seth counted ten breaths as they stood there, neither saying a word.
He counted three more rises of his chest as he weighed the value of speaking versus remaining silent. “I’m sorry I let you down. If I had obeyed you and kept an eye on Rachel...”
His father’s shoulders lost some of their starch. “I blamed you for that for a long time. But the truth is, it’s my burden to bear.” His pa faced him then, pain and anger deepening the lines of his face. “As damnable as that is, what you did was worse.”
Seth swallowed with a dry throat and braced for the verbal lashes he knew were about to come—a grown-up version of a trip to the woodshed. One thing hadn’t changed. The disappointment in his father’s eyes still hurt worse than the strap.
“You deserted us at one of the most difficult times our family has ever faced,” his father said, his eyes hard and his voice harder. “Rachel started eating again, but she was far from well. I had to hire help just to manage the daily chores. Had to trust an outsider with our secrets and bring a stranger onto the farm right after—” He twisted his lips as though he’d tasted something bitter. Then his nostrils flared as he drew a sharp breath. “How do you think that made your sister feel?”
A burning ache ignited deep in Seth’s chest. He’d be
en so mired in guilt and grief, he hadn’t given much thought to how his family would fare without him. The only image he’d pictured—besides them giving voice to their condemning thoughts—was them burying his sister.
“Doc Bennet...” His neck bent and his spirit wilted. “I thought she was dead.”
The desk chair creaked as his father lowered himself into it. He rubbed his face with both hands, then dropped them limply to the table. He no longer looked angry, just very, very tired. “I’ve spent five long years hating my only son. I don’t want to live that way anymore.”
With the aid of the light cast by the lamp, Seth got a good look at the toll those years had taken. His father had never been bulky, but he’d been muscular and fit. Rawboned now described his lean frame. The color of his lips had faded like weathered wood, and deep-gray shadows occupied the hollows beneath his eyes and cheeks. There was barely any blood in his skin.
“Why did you come?”
Seth took a moment to catch up with the change. “Because I couldn’t live with the uncertainty. And... because I need help.”
His father eyed him skeptically, then gestured to a chair opposite the desk. “What sort of trouble are you in?”
“Not trouble really,” he said as he sat. He had shown forbearance and gotten it in return. Now he hoped for mercy. “I found a young woman who was stranded and spent all my savings bringing her west to find her family. I didn’t worry at the time, because I figured I could work and save up again, but then we married—” Seth halted, realizing how odd his story must sound. He released his pent up breath when his father’s eyes twinkled with amusement.
“I should have known there’d be a woman involved.” Schooling his features, he gestured with his hand. “Go on.”
“We’re staying with her parents. They’re good people, but they got a bum claim and fell on hard times. No matter whether I work for her pa or find a paying job, the lot of us’ll do well not to starve. I want better for her than that.
“I’m willing to work my own claim, but I have no means to buy the materials I need. I came to ask you for a loan.”
Lawrence leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, tapping their tips together, his expression contemplative.
Pulse thrumming and palms sweating, Seth waited, trying to keep his face neutral and his racing thoughts from running away with his mind.
After a period of excruciating silence he’d swear was longer than the prophesied millennium, his father sat forward again. “The money’s yours if you want it. Whatever you need... we can work out the terms.”
Seth sat there, flummoxed and speechless.
“But I hope you decide not to take it.”
He dug through growing layers of bewilderment to find his voice. “Why not?”
His father’s steady gaze wavered, and a bit of color entered his face. “You’re not the only one who needs help.”
Wealth surrounded them—prosperity met him at every turn. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m sick.”
All Seth’s puzzlement burned away, leaving nothing but dread. “How sick?”
Lawrence grimaced. “One doctor says it’s my heart, another says it’s my lungs. All I know is I can’t put in a full day’s work anymore.”
“Is there anything they can do?”
His father shook his head. “They’ve tried all manner of treatments and concoctions to no avail. The only thing that seems to help is rest.” He rubbed his face again, then propped on his elbows and folded his pale hands on the desk. “Rachel’s husband and I made an agreement when we moved west to work the land as a team. In exchange for his help, I gave him half. The last few months, he’s been doing his work and part of mine, too. I had planned to hire an extra hand in the spring, but I’m willing to offer you the job instead, let you earn back your inheritance. I can’t give you everything, but I can offer you my portion.”
Seth couldn’t believe his ears. The total spread was at least six times the size of a grant. And it was prime. Even half was a settler’s dream.
“The entire estate could have been yours, had you stayed, but Jacob stepped in when I needed someone and worked in your place. I won’t go back on my promise to him.”
“I understand.”
“If you agree to this, the two of you will be working side by side. I’ll expect you to deal fairly with him.”
The admonition rankled, but Seth kept his counsel and gave a single nod.
“And I suppose it goes without saying, but I’ll expect you to look after your mother, should anything happen to me.”
“You’re right. That doesn’t need saying.”
Eyes narrowed briefly at his sharp retort.
Seth reigned in his pride and softened his tone. “Regardless of what I choose, I’ll take care of Ma. You have my word.”
His father’s features smoothed into an unmistakable look of relief. He blinked a few times and blew out a breath. “I suppose you’ll want some time to think this over,” he said as he rose.
Seth stood. “I’ll need to work out a few details with you before we set it in stone, but I know what I want.” He stuck a hand across the desk. “I want to earn back my inheritance, and your trust.”
Staring at his proffered hand, and then him, Lawrence Emerson met him halfway and shook. The clasp lingered until a wave of emotion threatened to tumble them both.
Seth waited as his father circled the desk, then walked with him toward the door.
“Did you bring your wife with you?”
Damn. Single-minded fury was blind. “Yes.”
“Good.” He clapped Seth on the back. “I want to meet the woman you spent your life’s savings to rescue. She must be something special.”
“She is.” She most certainly is.
Lying beside her on the bed in one of his parents’ spare rooms, Seth swept Becca’s hair aside and nibbled the slender column of her neck.
“Not only are you incorrigible,” she said in a husky, amused voice, “you’re insatiable.”
“Mmm.” He nibbled some more. “Only because you’re irresistible.” She was. And he had a lot of making up to do—to Rachel and his pa and his ma—but most especially to her.
He’d gotten started on his restitution the minute they’d excused themselves for the night. It was well past one, and he still wasn’t done.
“Irresistible or not,” she mocked, “it’s in your best interest to get some sleep. I don’t think your pa will take too kindly to you strangling any of his birds.”
She was teasing, but she was right. Even in the dead of winter, morning came early. He nudged her away from him, onto her side, then tucked her soft, curvy backside against him and gazed out the window.
“You made a good impression on my family,” he said. “By the end of supper, the whole lot of ’em was ready to adopt you. Especially my pa.” When she’d told her story—and a watered down version at that—Lawrence’s face had looked nearly as stricken as her own pa’s.
“I like them, too. Though Jacob scared me a bit at first.”
Seth stifled the urge to chuckle at her understatement. He’d felt the same way. Jacob was the biggest man he’d ever seen—tall and burly, and gruff-looking, to boot. As soon as he’d watched his brother-in-law in action, though, his intimidation had fled in favor of respect. Not only did the man ooze integrity from every pore, he was as protective and soft-hearted as they came, especially toward Rachel.
If his mother was a walking lesson on discretion, his brother-in-law was a walking reminder not to judge a person’s temperament or heart by their appearance.
“Jacob’s a very large mother hen. But don’t tell him I said that.”
Becca snickered.
“Do you see that hill in the clearing over there?” he asked after a while.
“Which one?”
Wrapping his arm around her middle, he scooted her up a little higher in bed, then pointed across the moonlit landscape that glistened with a thin layer
of new-fallen snow. “That one. That’s where I plan to build our house.” He propped on his elbow so he could see her reaction. “Do you like it?”
“Yes.” She’d smiled, but sadness lurked in her big gray eyes. Just as she’d promised, she had accepted his choice to stay without complaint, but she’d done so at a great sacrifice.
Seth rested his head on the pillow again, just above hers and focused on the reflection of her face in the window. “There’s a stream nearby that’s perfect for a spring house and a nice slope on the far side where I can plant you a kitchen garden.
“I also have some ideas for the house. To make things easier on you, I’ll put the well as close as I can to the washroom and the kitchen, and I’ll build a split plan with bedrooms on both ends. That way we’ll have our privacy... and your parents will, too.”
Becca’s lips parted. She turned in his arms until she was facing him. “You’d do that for me?”
“I returned you to your family, only to take you away again. It’s the least I can do.”
Uncertainty stole her excitement so quickly, it gouged his heart. “Do you think they’ll come?”
“It’ll be up to your pa, but I think he will. There’s work and lodging for Gus, too.”
“You’re so good to me.”
“You deserve it, Rebecca.”
She brushed his jaw with the tip of her nose. “Say it again.”
“What?”
“My name.”
“Why?”
“I love the way it sounds when you say it.”
“Rebecca.”
A satisfied smile spread across her face, and she closed her eyes. “Say it again.”
“Rebecca.”
“Again.”
“Becca-becca-becca-becca.”
Her sleepy giggle tickled the hairs on his chest.
Seth dipped his head and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Tiredness and satiety had woven their way into her voice, so he tucked her under his chin and held her in silence—his arms filled with a far better future than any he could have planned for himself.
Once her breathing had slowed, well-deepened by sleep, he closed his eyes and touched his lips to her hair. “I’ll call you any name you want,” he whispered, “but you’ll always be my Angel... the angel who rescued me and brought me home.”
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