He had returned to his study and swallowed drink after drink. Smoked cigarette after cigarette. It hadn’t helped.
Their child was gone, and he had killed it. Anna never would have fallen if she hadn't been trying to stop him, hadn't been trying to make him see reason in the blind fury of his obsession. It was his fault, all his.
His obsessions was so unimportant now. He didn’t care that Sloan had triumphed, destroying everything Wes had worked and schemed for. None of that mattered, not any longer. Only Anna mattered now. If she died, he wouldn’t be able to survive.
He watched the sunrise from his study window, not so much conscious of weariness as of defeat. My punishment is more than I can bear. It took him a moment to' remember where he had heard it — a shout from a maniacal preacher far back in his boyhood. A line from the Bible, he realized.
He should have paid attention to the warning.
Concerned only with his ambition, he had never before counted the cost to others. He had plotted and schemed, stealing what he couldn’t win, breaking what he couldn't steal. It had never occurred to him before that every goal he had reached had cost someone else; and if he had considered the matter, he wouldn’t have cared.
Now … he had lost everything. His obsession had ultimately cost the baby’s life. Everything he had worked for. And Anna. Most of all, Anna. She would hate him now, hate him for everything he had done to her, for everything he had cost her.
The price was more than he could bear.
“McCord?”
He turned away from the window, so cold he thought he might shatter, like ice. “Doctor? How is she?” His voice was hoarse, afraid.
“She’s weak, but she’ll be fine. I’ve left her sleeping. She’ll need someone to look after her for a day or two, at least.” The doctor’s sweeping glance clearly indicated what he thought of Wes’s probable abilities along those lines. “Mrs. Hunter has done some nursing, and I’m sure she’ll be happy to oblige.”
“Yes.” Wes cleared his throat. “I’ll pay her well.”
“She’d do it for nothing. She likes Miss — your wife.” The doctor turned on his heel and left.
Wes stood there for a moment, feeling no resentment at the doctor’s setdown; it was deserved, he knew. He left his study finally and went up the stairs, moving slowly in order to give himself time to control his expression and to bury what he was feeling deep inside himself. He opened his bedroom door and went in quietly, crossing to the bed and gazing down at Anna.
She was still sleeping. Her lovely face was pale and seemed, to his anxious eyes, more delicate than ever. There was a chair by the bed, and he sank into it without taking his eyes off her face.
He knew now why he had wanted her to be his wife. He had known in the flashing instant he had turned to see her fall down the stairs. But it was too late. Even if he had known how, it was too late now to mend what he had broken this time.
She moved slightly, her lashes lifting, and he yanked his gaze away to stare fixedly down at the bed. He had to do this. No matter what it cost him, he had to do it. It was the only thing he could do for her. “Wesley?”
She was shocked by his appearance. A dark stubble of beard covered the lower half of his gaunt face, and his eyes were red-rimmed and sunken. His clothing was wrinkled, his thick hair tumbled, and the odor of whiskey and smoke clung to him. He was sitting stiffly, not looking at her, his jaw tight and his lips pressed into a thin, hard line.
Anna was about to repeat his name when he suddenly jerked to his feet and strode across the room. The door slammed behind him.
“Do you feel like having company?”
Anna turned her head to see Brianne Delaney in the doorway of her bedroom. She smiled warmly. “Of course. How nice of you to come.”
Brianne entered the room. Anna was sitting next to the window, a blanket over her lap. Brianne chose a chair next to Anna’s. “It’s wonderful to see you up. I thought perhaps you might still be in bed.”
Anna’s dimples deepened. “I’m doing very well, and despite Mrs. Hunter’s protestations, I refused to spend one more minute in that bed.”
“Good for you.” Brianne studied Anna for a moment. There were shadows under her eyes, and lines of strain on her face — signs of the trauma she’d been through. “Anna,” she said softly. “I was so sorry to hear about the baby.”
“Thank you.”
“I wanted to come see you sooner, but I felt you probably needed to rest more than you needed a visitor.”
Anna’s smile faded. “You would have been most welcome. I’ve discovered in the past few days that being left alone with one’s thoughts is often not good medicine.” Neither was wondering why Wesley hadn’t been to see her since he’d bolted from the room several days before.
Brianne nodded. “By the way, I brought you some strengthening soup from the hotel’s kitchen. I left it downstairs with Mrs. Hunter.”
“That was very thoughtful. Thank you.”
Brianne leaned forward. “Anna, I want you to know that I’m sorry we couldn’t have become closer friends while I was here, especially since it turned out we had something in common.”
Anna looked at her, puzzled. “Something in common?”
“That stupid conflict between Sloan and Wes.” Brianne paused. “Your marriage came as a surprise to a lot of people.”
Anna lowered her eyes. “We preferred that no one know. And as for the feud, I’m not sure that would have been a good basis for our friendship.”
Brianne shrugged. “Perhaps not, but I think it would have been nice to talk about it with someone who could look at the matter rationally. Sloan and I had to go through a lot before he got to that point.”
“I know,” Anna said quietly. “Wesley has hurt a great many people in his life.”
“And you can accept that?”
“I have no choice. I can’t change the kind of person he is.”
Brianne frowned. “Why not? I don’t see — ” She suddenly stopped and made a wry face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. You’ve been blessed with a serene temperament. I, on the other hand, tend to leap into the middle of frays and try to make things come out the way I want them to. Sloan would much prefer that I leave things alone.”
Anna gazed at Brianne and felt a pang of wistfulness. She was positively luminous with happiness and eagerness for the future. How wonderful to be so confident about yourself and the man you loved, she thought. “I’m sure you and Mr. Lassiter will be very happy.”
“I’m sure too.” Brianne stood up and held out her hand. “I have to go. We’re planning on heading home this afternoon. We’re all riding out about three. I’m sure you’ll be able to hear the sigh of relief Mrs. Potter makes at the sight of our backs.”
Anna smiled and took Brianne’s hand. “You, your friends, and your family will be missed.”
A burst of laughter escaped Brianne. “You mean the good people of Chango will have to find some thing else to talk about, don’t you?” She paused. “Good-bye, Anna, and good luck.”
“Thank you for coming. Perhaps we’ll meet again.”
Brianne’s smile lit her face. “You never know.” She turned and moved toward the door. “Life is filled with possibilities.”
And all of them bright happy ones for Brianne Delaney, Anna thought. “Good-bye, Brianne.”
Brianne opened the door. “By the way. I’ve asked Mrs. Potter to bring you some more soup tomorrow. I hope — ” She broke off. “Oh, hello, Mr. Nilsen. Come in. I was just leaving.” With a final wave of her hand to Anna, she was gone.
Anna gazed at her father. He stood at the threshold, nervously clutching the rim of his hat. “What are you doing here?” she asked, then inwardly cringed at the sharpness she heard in her voice. He was still her father, she reminded herself, no matter what he’d done. She lifted her hand and pointed to the chair Brianne had just vacated. “I mean, I would have expected you to be at the emporium this time of day.”
He perched on the edge of the chair, obviously ill at ease. “I hired a helper. Mrs. Harcourt recommended her nephew for the job. He seems a nice boy.”
“I’m glad.”
He looked down at the hat he held in his hands. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes, Papa, I am.”
He nodded with relief. “It vas … unfortunate that you lost the child.”
Unfortunate? she thought with incredulity. The loss of her baby was the single most traumatic event of her life, and her father called it unfortunate. She looked at him impatiently. “Was there a special reason that you came this afternoon, Papa?”
“Yes. Mr. Foster, the bank president, came to see me today at the store. He did not vish to bother you by coming to the house, but he vanted you to be aware of certain things.” He paused, frowned at the brim of his hat, then continued. “It seems Mr. McCord has made complete restitution to all those who vere injured by his business dealings. And” — he cleared his throat — “this is the part that concerns you, my daughter, vith the money that vas left, he has provided for you. He has also transferred the deed of this house to your name.”
Anna stared at her father in astonishment and growing uneasiness. “But why would he do that?”
Lars Nilsen shrugged. “To make things right before he left.”
“Left? Papa, look at me. What do you mean, before he left?”
He raised his head. “I thought you knew. Mr. McCord left town today.”
Anna felt as if she had just taken another fall down the stairs. Wesley had left town. Without telling her of his plans. Without saying good-bye.
Her father was saying, “So now I vas vondering if you vould come back home. Things vill be different from now on. I vill take care of you. I — ”
Anna dropped her head in her hands. “No, Papa.”
“But I told you, things vill be different.”
“You can’t turn back the clock. No one can. The past always influences the future, no matter how hard you try to change things. Please go now. I’d like to rest.”
He nodded. “Perhaps I vill come again when you are feeling better.”
“Good-bye, Papa.”
She waited until she heard him close the door behind him before she raised her head. Saying that she needed to rest had just been an excuse so that her father would leave. She had wanted to be alone so that she could try to sort things through.
Her heart felt as if it were breaking in two. Wesley had left her.
She knew he’d never loved her, but she had thought that they had a chance for a life together. At least she’d hoped.
She turned her head to gaze out the window. She supposed she’d been living in a dream world, but for a while, before she had lost the baby, she’d believed that the future held a potential for a good life. She should have known that it wouldn’t, couldn’t, work out between the two of them. After all, theirs had been such a troubled past. And hadn’t she just told her father that no one can turn back the clock?
But that was exactly what Wesley was trying to do. He was starting over, stripping himself of all his possessions and setting out for a new life, alone. So alone.
Anna blinked back the tears that were stinging her eyelids. It was all such a waste. Loneliness and sadness for both of them and nothing they could do to — Suddenly she went still as she realized what she was thinking. Why was she just sitting there, wringing her hands and moaning over the injustice of it all? How did she know there was nothing she could do? All through her relationship with Wesley, she had accepted, only rarely initiating, and she was still doing it, dammit. She threw the blanket off her lap, stood, marched across the room to the armoire, and threw open its paneled doors.
Chapter 14
Wes had to fight himself not to look back as his horse plodded steadily out of town, knowing that if he did look back, he might not be able to leave. Just as he hadn’t dared to see Anna again these last few days. Only the thought of the hate he would see in her eyes had kept him away from her, and only that made it possible for him to leave her.
What little he was taking with him was packed into a couple of carpetbags and slung across the horse behind his saddle. He had ended up with a small stake. With luck, it would be barely enough to start again somewhere else.
Life was going to be hard for a long time, he knew, A hard life didn’t frighten him … and he had been alone all his life. But for the first time he felt the bleak awareness of being lonely.
He was so caught up in his own pain, he didn’t realize at first that he was being followed. He wouldn’t have heard anything if his horse had been moving faster, but the plodding pace made it possible for Wes to hear hoofbeats behind him.
He stopped his horse, holding the gelding still as he braced himself and looked back over his shoulder. He couldn’t believe what he saw, in fact, almost refused to believe it. But … He swung off his horse with the stiffness of tense muscles and stood waiting until the horse and rider reached him.
As she approached, he saw that Anna was dressed for travel in serviceable dark clothing, and that two carpetbags were tied behind her sidesaddle.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in a rough, strained voice. “You should still be in bed.”
Anna sat on her horse for a moment looking down at him. What if he doesn’t want me? she thought, and wondered how in the world she was going to manage to keep her expression free of the fear and nervousness she was feeling. “The doctor agreed I was recovered. He did warn me that I shouldn’t ride from dawn until dusk, so if that’s your habit, I may have to ask that we rest from time to time.”
“Anna — ”
She interrupted in a calm tone. “I’ve talked to Mr. Javits at the bank twice today. He’ll expect instructions whenever we reach our destination. The house and furnishings can be sold, and the proceeds transferred to us without delay.”
“You aren’t coming with me,” he said tautly.
“Yes, Wesley, I am. My place is with you.”
“Anna … ” He held his voice steady with a tremendous effort, still unable to believe that she didn't hate him. “I’ve lost everything, do you understand? Everything. It will take years to rebuild — if I can even do it.”
“You’ll do it; you’ll build another empire.”
“I’m a destroyer, remember? You said that, and even though I didn’t want to believe it then, you were right. I’ve destroyed everything I’ve ever touched. That won't change.”
“You've changed.”
He couldn’t deny that, because he knew it was true. He just didn’t know what the change in him really meant. “Anna, go back to town. I wouldn’t ask any woman to live the way I’ll have to until I can rebuild.”
She heard the hesitation in his voice, the need, and she smiled at him, her face filled with sudden radiance. “I’m not any woman. I’m your wife.”
Wesley struggled against the urge to give in, even though he had never wanted anything so much in his life. “My God, you don't know what’s good for you, do you? Dammit, Anna, I’m doing the right thing.”
After a moment Anna lifted her knee from the curved horn of the sidesaddle and slid to the ground before he could move to help her. She stood holding one rein, gazing at him searchingly. “Is that why you’re trying to make me go back to town, Wesley? Because you believe it’s the right thing? Or — ” Her voice broke for the first time, then steadied. “Or is it that you don't want me?”
“I just … I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”
“It will hurt me if you leave me behind.” Anna gave a little sigh and her arms slipped around his waist. “Don’t you see,” she said softly, “you won’t hurt me again unless you leave me.”
“The only life I can offer won’t be easy,” he said in a husky voice, his hands touching her shoulders tentatively as if she were a wondrous gift that might be taken away from him at any moment. “You deserve so much more.” He hesitated, then went on with obvious reluctance. “You should stay
here. I can send for you when things are — ”
“No. I told my father that no one could turn back the clock, and I believe that’s true. But I also believe that most worthwhile things are built by people who have learned from their mistakes. Our beginning was flawed, Wesley, but our future doesn’t have to be. Not if we work at it. It can be beautiful.” Her arms tightened around him. She had to make him take her with him. “I’m going with you.”
His smile was crooked. “To keep me on the straight and narrow?”
“I won’t have to do that. The next empire you’ll build will have a solid and honest foundation.”
For the first time, he felt a surge of optimism. He could have laughed out loud. Nothing was impossible, not with Anna beside him. But he had to ask, “Why? Tell me why, Anna.”
She pulled away, gazed up at him, and took a deep breath. “I love you.”
He closed his eyes for an instant. “God.” When his eyes opened, they were glittering moistly. “Anna, I don’t — ” He stopped.
She waited, barely able to breathe. When he said nothing more, she thought, He doesn’t want me. She gave a small laugh made shaky by threatening tears. “Wesley, say something.”
“What can I say? I don’t deserve you, but, my God, how I love you.”
She felt the shock, then the joy .“Me?” she whispered. “It wasn’t just the baby? You love me?”
“I loved the baby because it was part of you.” He tried to break away from her. “I shouldn’t let you come with me.”
She saw the suffering on his face. She heard the torment in his voice. And she knew he really did love her. “You don’t have any choice. Do you think I’ll let you go now when I know you love me? If you leave me here, I’ll follow you from town to town until you’re too old and weary to get away from me.”
Suddenly it was as if a great weight had fallen from him, and he chuckled. “Then I guess I'd better give in gracefully. And gratefully.” He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with exquisite gentleness. “I’ll try to make sure you’re never sorry.”
“Neither one of us will be sorry.”
Silken Thunder Page 17