Rekindling Trust

by Sandra Ardoin

  “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Edy. There’s no point in going down that road, because I won’t talk of it. It’s done.”

  The shock of his brother’s confession had wiped from Barrett’s memory the earlier mention of Edy’s knowledge. The realization that she’d been privy to this information and hadn’t told him added kindling to the fire of betrayal that burned in his gut. “When did you tell her?”

  “We spoke last month.”

  “A month ago?” Why hadn’t Edy told him during their time in the country, a time when they had cleared the air about their past? His reawakened feelings had rekindled his trust in her and set them on the path toward a future together...before she’d pushed him off it and over a cliff. “You told her and not me? Didn’t I deserve to know?”

  “Don’t blame her. I asked her not to say anything to you. I wanted to tell you myself.”

  “Yet you’ve waited a full month. You waited twelve years.” With fingers interlocked, his hands pressed down on his head as though the force would contain his frustration. With Wynn. With Edy. With everything he’d believed until this moment. “All this time, I’ve defended you. I accused Judge Danby of sentencing you to prison as punishment for my relationship with his daughter. I let the incident ruin a future for Edy and me.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I never had the courage to admit my guilt to you.”

  Barrett’s arms dropped to his side. “Am I that much of an ogre?”

  “You’re that much of a loyal brother. For some reason I never understood, you looked up to me.” Wynn raised his head, sorrow darkening his eyes. “How could I bear to fail you?”

  “Perhaps you should have thought of that before you robbed the drugstore.”

  Wynn nodded. “You’re right, and I have no excuse for what I did.”

  Barrett struggled to gain control of his anger, his disappointment. For years, he’d blamed himself. He’d blamed Edy’s father. And all along, Wynn was guilty of the crime for which he’d been charged.

  Had Barrett known the truth from the beginning, how would it have changed his life, his relationship with Edy? Would he have left Riverport without her, giving her the opportunity to marry someone else, or fought all who stood in their way, including Lamar Westin and the judge?

  He couldn’t say. Because he still blamed himself for Wynn’s plight. “Keeping my word to you would have given you no chance to commit a crime that night. Instead, I stole away to meet Edy, leaving you alone to—”

  “To get drunk and rob a man.” Wynn’s mouth twitched with a grimace. “Your staying around the house that night would not have stopped me. I’d already determined my plans for the evening and sought an excuse to get away from you. To be honest, I rejoiced when you took that lie—that extra sin—away from me.”

  Barrett studied his brother, trying to ascertain the veracity of his words. Wynn’s gaze was steady, intense, unwavering. Did he hope to drill the truth into Barrett through eye contact?

  “My time is short, but the one thing I want you to know is that I don’t regret going to prison, because that’s where God reached me. That’s where all the Bible teaching Grandpa drummed into us paid off. It’s where I found peace. I’m not afraid of the grave. It’s then I’ll stand in the presence of a merciful Father who loves me and has forgiven me. God is just but forgiving, and He expects the same from us.”

  Just but forgiving.

  “I deserve your scorn as much as I deserved my sentence.”

  “I don’t hold ill-will toward you, Wynn. I wish you’d told me sooner.” Before he’d ever made a fool of himself in front of the judge.

  Wynn turned the pages of the Bible, going forward into the New Testament. “It says right here in Philippians, the fourth chapter, ‘Be careful for nothing; but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.’”

  He shut the Bible but continued to quote its message with his eyes closed and his head pressed against the back of the wicker chair. “‘I’ve learned, in whatever state I am, therewith to be content. I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.’ I am content, Barrett. I have that peace only God can give a person, more peace than I ever had in my whole life.”

  “I’m happy for you.” Happy and yet brokenhearted. While his brother had found the answer to the turbulence in his life, death loomed over him.

  Wynn grabbed Barrett’s arm, his hold as weak as it was determined. “For a while, I convinced myself that your relationship with Edy cost me more years than I would have otherwise spent in that prison. Don’t be like me. Don’t continue to hold on to your anger with Judge Danby and Edy. You’re the one it hurts in the end.”

  Given what happened at the reception and the recent repetition of history, Barrett couldn’t promise to change. He placed his hand over his brother’s. “I’m proud of you, Wynn”—his voice cracked—“and I’ve always been proud to be your little brother.”

  AFTER HAVING HER RUBY ring assessed by a jeweler in the next town, Edythe returned to her father’s house, dragging with exhaustion, a consequence of the past week—the past two months, really.

  As she climbed the porch stairs, she no longer thought of the residence as home. At least, it wouldn’t be once she decided to sell her mother’s ring. She should have sold it to the jeweler this afternoon and been done with it, but something held her back. Possibly, she was more sentimental than she’d thought. If so, she must get over it.

  Andy entered the foyer and blocked her way to the stairs. “Grandfather’s home.”

  A tremble flitted through Edythe’s fingers, adding difficulty to the removal of her hat and gloves. The time had arrived to tell her father his plan had failed. “Where is he?”

  “He went out back with Sarah Jane and Timothy.” Andy stood straight—his feet apart, his arms crossed. “Should my name be Andrew Seaton?”

  Edythe ran the odd question through her mind three times before the words struck a blow that staggered her. “What on earth makes you ask that question?”

  “Grandfather looked at me, said I was like my father, and cursed Mr. B. J.”

  Edythe massaged her forehead. “I’m sure you misunderstood. Your name is Westin, because you are a Westin. Mr. Seaton is not your father.” And she shouldn’t need to reassure her son of it.

  Andy’s eyes shone with unshed tears that brought dampness to her own while her blood boiled over her father’s irresponsible and vulgar behavior. “Then why does he hate me?”

  “He doesn’t hate you.” The words rolled off her tongue as though she had confidence in them. “You go on up to your room. I’ll handle this. And Andy...”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “This isn’t a proper conversation to bring up to anyone, not even your brother and sister. Do you understand?”

  “I didn’t think it was.” He stepped away from her. When he reached the top of the stairs, he spun on the balls of his feet. “You and Mr. B. J. were friends a long time ago, though, right?”

  “Yes. At one time, we were good friends.”

  “He likes you as more than a friend, Mama, and I think you like him.”

  Her son’s perception went beyond his years. Unfortunately, he hadn’t seen her with Barrett since the fiasco of the engagement announcement. He wasn’t aware that Barrett refused to even speak to her.

  “You won’t marry that banker, will you?”

  “No.”

  “I think you should marry Mr. B. J.”

  She squeezed the gloves in her hand, stunned that this boy who had adored his father would suggest she marry anyone. “You like Mr. Seaton?”

  A quiet smile crept onto Andy’s face. “Sure. He’s nice and not a bad fisherman.”

  After he ran down the hall, Edythe walked into the drawing room. The memory of the conversation with her son chilled her. How much more of her father’s destructive
behavior must she tolerate?

  Tomorrow, she would take the ring back to the jeweler and leave it there. Afterward, somehow, she would find work to support her children, even if it were something as lowly as sweeping the streets.

  Because despite her child’s approval of Barrett as a father, it wasn’t meant to be.

  Edythe cranked the phonograph and shut her eyes. As she swayed to the music, allowing the piano strains to calm her, she rehearsed what she’d say to her father.

  Perhaps it wasn’t the words she must rehearse but the tone in which she said them. If he sensed hesitation or fear, he would gore her like a bull in the ring.

  She opened her eyes. Hesitation? Fear? No such emotions brewed inside Edythe. She whipped around, ready to find and confront the man who had wreaked havoc on her life and the lives of her children.

  She needn’t go far. He stood in the doorway to the drawing room, his shoulders limp. Lines defined the space between his eyes. For the first time in her life, she saw him as old.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  The judge dropped his suit coat on the back of the sofa. “I want to talk to you.”

  “I want to talk to you, too, Father.” Good. She’d hit the right tenor, somewhere between respect and resolve.

  Edythe let the music from the phonograph fade into silence. The sudden quiet emphasized her father’s groan as he dropped into a chair by the fireplace. “I heard you broke your engagement to Ansel.”

  Was that the reason he’d cursed Barrett and upset her son? “Since it was something I never agreed to, I didn’t consider myself engaged. As for Ansel, I hope you will follow through with his promotion.”

  He waved the statement away. “It wasn’t his fault.”

  She had expected agitation, a raised voice and argument, not this quiet apathy. She’d prepared herself for standing her ground, but he retreated without a shot fired.

  “I suppose you’ve already worked things out with Seaton.”

  He didn’t deserve to see the pain Barrett’s rejection caused her, but she was tired of secrets. “He thinks I betrayed him and wants nothing to do with me.”

  “He was never good enough for you, Edythe.”

  “That’s not been your decision to make.”

  “It’s every father’s duty to strive for the best for his child.”

  “In doing so, you paid no mind to what I wanted in your determination to break us apart.” Edythe let the words roll out, no longer fatigued and no longer caring to mind her tone. “You stole Barrett’s letters thinking that was for my good?”

  “Yes.”

  The quiet admission knocked her off balance. “Do you still have them?”

  “I burned them as soon as they arrived...unread.”

  “How could you do that, Father?”

  “I wanted to shelter you and keep you from making the same mistakes as your mother.”

  “For the last time, I am not my mother.”

  “You’re more like her than you wish to think—both in positive and negative ways. When Seaton ran out on you, Edythe, I did what I had to do to protect you.”

  “There’s a difference between proper protection and unreasonable control. You’ve crossed that line too many times, Father. Even worse, I’ve let you do it. No more. And while we’re on the subject of Barrett Seaton, never again upset my child with disgusting and false allegations.”

  His brows dipped. “What false allegations?”

  “You led Andy to think Barrett is his father.”

  “I said nothing of the kind to the boy.”

  “How did you think he would interpret your claim that he was like his father when, in the same breath, you cursed Barrett?”

  “I was upset and didn’t mean for Andrew to hear my...opinion of Seaton.”

  “Well, he did.”

  “In truth, Edythe, I’ve had no will to be a grandfather to the boy.”

  “That boy understands how far down your nose you look at him.”

  “I’ve my reasons. After finding you’d met with Seaton behind my back, I saw a dreadful future for you. Then when he left town, I knew he wouldn’t do the right thing by you.”

  “The right thing?”

  He went on as though he hadn’t heard her. “Soon after your marriage, you announced you were expecting a child, and I realized I’d been right to insist you marry someone else.”

  “But you weren’t.” Should she judge him too harshly when the timing had surprised her, too? Still, the insinuation hurt. “For your information, Barrett and I never...” Her skin warmed. “Andrew is Lamar’s son.”

  The judge stared at her—searched her—in a way that left her feeling exposed.

  “Why do you think Barrett wrote those letters you stole? If you had read them,”—the idea of it caused her to cringe—“you would have changed your mind about him. Instead, you believed the worst and thought to save yourself the humiliation of having an unwed mother in your house.” She stopped pacing and stared at her father. “How could you imagine that of me?”

  Rather than answer outright, he said, “Andrew looks nothing like the twins.”

  “No, he doesn’t. Are you so blinded by your hostility toward Barrett, that you can’t see Andy looks like me? Same hair and eyes. Same facial features.” Edythe paced back and forth in front of the sofa. “That’s why you’ve always treated Andy like some poor relation. You despised Barrett so much you couldn’t stand to look at your grandson.”

  He pressed a hand to his forehead in defeat and moments passed before he spoke. “When I learned you kept your relationship with Barrett secret, all I saw was the man who took Mary Ellen from me. All I saw was how I’d failed you both.”

  Edythe wished to continue to rail against him in retaliation for almost thirty years of manipulation, but too much blame rested on her. If she’d let Barrett court her properly years ago, as he’d wanted to do, and been honest with her father, her life and the lives of those she loved might have turned out differently.

  “I suppose I let my feelings for Seaton control my reaction to Andrew. I will apologize to my grandson.” Her father sank farther into the seat of the chair, leaned his head against the back, and stared at the drawing room ceiling. “Your mother died.”

  The announcement, so random and unexpected, weakened her knees and forced her onto the sofa. “I always wondered if I might meet her one day.” She had her answer. “When? How did you learn about it?”

  “She didn’t die alone, Edythe. I’ve been with her these last weeks.”

  A brick to the head couldn’t have stunned her more. “You knew her whereabouts?”

  “The day Mary Ellen left Riverport, I hired someone to find her. His agency has kept me informed ever since.”

  Would her father never cease to cause her anguish? “You were aware of her location all these years and chose not to tell me?” She shook her head. “Wait. You said ‘these last weeks.’ Her death was recent?”

  “She passed today.”

  The muscles in Edythe’s throat throbbed with the desire to release a sob, to mourn all she had missed by not having her mother in her life. “Why didn’t you tell me she was ill? Why didn’t you take me with you and let me say goodbye?”

  He raised his head and leaned forward in the chair, his arms on his knees. “She refused to see you. I tried to convince her. She’d have none of it.”

  Her mother hadn’t wanted to see her. “Why?”

  “The man she ran off with left her years ago. Ever since, she’s lived a hard life. She couldn’t bear for you to see her shame.”

  Edythe covered her mouth and drew in a breath before she dropped her hand to verbally attack her father. “You were aware of my mother’s situation and did nothing to help her? You’re nothing but a selfish, bitter man!”

  Each wrinkled eye released a tear that rolled down his face to hide in his mustache, shredding Edythe’s heart despite her anger with him. “For years, I couldn’t forgive her for leaving us.”

&nbs
p; “It’s too late now.”

  His expression pleaded for understanding, maybe for her pardon. “No. I was given the time and opportunity to assure her of my regret, to ask her for forgiveness.”

  Some of the heat of Edythe’s fury cooled.

  He sighed. “I should have insisted she see you one last time.”

  In all honesty, if presented with the opportunity, would Edythe really have wanted to see a woman who permitted pride to keep her from her child?

  Yes. Yes, she would. Because Mary Ellen Danby was her mother.

  “That was her decision, Father. You need to let others make their choices no matter the result.”

  Her father rose and approached with guarded steps, looking down on her, his face twisted into sorrow. “I have many wrongs to atone for, my dear, but I hope it isn’t too late for you to forgive me and forgive your mother.”

  Not long ago, Edythe had fully realized the breadth of God’s love for His creation. The sacrifice Jesus paid offered generations of people the opportunity to receive mercy for the sins they’d committed, including her mother and father. How could Edythe accept God’s gracious and merciful forgiveness, yet deny her parents her own mercy?

  “I will try, Father.” She shuddered at the insufficient answer, but right now, that was all she could promise.

  EVEN DURING THESE LAST weeks of Wynn’s illness, Barrett had refused to give more than a glancing blow’s consideration to this day. He’d lived a dream of a happy ending for himself and for his brother. Now he was numb—unable to move, unable to feel.

  The coffee Mrs. Quincy had brought to his office had lost its steam, leaving only a slight scent to linger in the air, along with the stink of Barrett’s remorse and grief.

  He sat pressed against the back of his office chair, staring at the paper on the desk. It had arrived fifteen minutes ago and remained where he’d tossed it, as far away from him as possible, but within reading distance. Short and to the point, with an expressed message of sympathy, Dr. Ellis informed him of Wynn Seaton’s death.