He shook his head as he stared at her with utter disillusionment. “No, you don’t care about any of that. You only wanted to judge and to condemn me. You never truly desired to know me.”
“Tobias,” she whispered, another tear coursing down her pale cheek. “I’m not a woman to inspire a man to passion. Not as I am now. I don’t inspire loyalty and love. I know what I am.”
He frowned as he stared deeply into her eyes. He released the chair and moved to sit again. He leaned his elbows on his knees, focused wholly on her. “What are you, Vera? Tell me what you are.” When he saw her battling fear, he reached forward to grasp her hand. His fingers played with hers, while his thumb traced over her palm. “Trust me, darling. Trust me as you did, before you allowed doubts to tarnish what was growing between us.”
She stared into his gaze for a long moment. “When you look at me as you are now, I want to believe.” She paused, the silence stretching between them. When he didn’t fill the silence, she gave an exasperated huff, and a chagrined smile emerged. “You’ve always had family. Even when you were an outcast.” She lifted a brow, as though daring him to disagree with her. At the jerk of his head, she nodded.
“I haven’t had family since I was eighteen,” she whispered, her gaze lowered and her voice soft. “Although I’d been separated from them for longer than that. I’d moved away to work in a factory when I was thirteen. I lied and told them that I was fifteen. We needed money to keep the farm, and what use was another girl?”
She sniffled and whispered in a defeated voice, “I knew from an early age that I was a burden. There was little I wouldn’t have done to show my parents that I was worth loving. With seven children, there wasn’t enough love to go around. At least not to me. The clumsy dull-witted one who desired too much affection.” She flushed, closed her eyes as those words escaped, unintentionally revealing more than she desired. “When I first arrived at the mill, I did menial jobs, before I became proficient working one of the looms.”
“Where?” Tobias asked.
“In Massachusetts,” she whispered. “When I was eighteen, letters from home stopped. I usually received a letter every month or so.” She flushed. “I couldn’t read. A friend read them to me. But then they stopped for four months. Finally a letter arrived. But it wasn’t from Father. The local priest wrote, finally remembering me, to tell me there’d been a fire and that my family had died. Everyone gone in an instant, including my older brother and his wife and child. The farm had gone to a male cousin. The priest said I should be thankful I had a job at the mill and wished me well.”
Tobias sat, staring at her, as she gazed at her lap. “That’s it? Nothing more from anyone you knew?”
She shrugged. “I was the only one in my family who survived, and we were poor. I had a job. None would worry about me, Tobias.”
He sat, thunderstruck, as he considered her tale. “How did you become a teacher?”
“We were supposed to go to school, but there’s a lot of work to do on a farm. Even though public education is compulsory in Massachusetts, due to a law they passed in 1851, my father ignored it. He said he needed us to work. And he thought an education for any daughter of his was a waste of time. What did I need an education for? I’d have babies and cook.”
He gazed into her eyes, his glowing with righteous anger. “Oh, but you had every need, didn’t you, Vera?”
She nodded, more tears tracking down her cheek. “They died, and I was so tired of my life. Of backbreaking work that never changed. My friend taught me the alphabet, and I slowly learned to read.” Her face lit, as though a thousand candles glowed in the room. “Suddenly my life wasn’t so lonely. Not when I had a book. Not when there was something to read.” Her voice shone with passion.
She sniffled. “I didn’t have to send my wages home anymore, and I squirreled away everything I could. For years, I saved and saved, until I had enough to leave. I talked my way into a teacher’s apprenticeship, and here I am.”
Tobias waited, his gaze filled with admiration. “How can you not see how remarkable you are? You did everything for yourself with no help.” He paused, frowning when he saw she failed to take any pleasure in his praise. “Why do you doubt it?”
“I’m nothing more than a poor farm girl, Tobias, putting on airs,” she whispered. “I’m a sham.”
He raised her hand, kissing her knuckles, before turning it over to bury his lips in her palm. Closing his eyes at the soft feel of her skin, he went silent for long moments, as though relishing this peaceful time with her. “You are the furthest from a sham. What do you fear?”
Her eyes filled as she gazed at him. “I can’t be that girl again, Toby, alone and poor, without even a reputation to cling to. I can’t.”
“Toby,” he breathed, canting forward. “God, Vera, be brave and believe in me. In us. Please.” He dropped his head forward, resting it on the side of the bed, as he took deep breaths. “I know you’re afraid, but so am I.” He looked at her, his pleading gaze meeting her guarded one. “I know what it is to lose everything and everyone. I know what it is to be so lonely that I thought it would kill me. I know what it is to feel a sadness that pervades my soul and to wonder if sorrow is all I’ll ever know. I know what it is to want everyone around me to be as miserable as I am because witnessing joy only brings more anguish as that joy is denied me.”
“Toby,” she whispered.
“Dare to dream, Vera,” he pleaded. “Dare to be part of my dream.”
“What do you see when you dream?” she whispered, mesmerized by his deep voice and the look in his eyes. The sincere look of a man who had seen hell and had survived.
He half smiled, his hand rising so his thumb caressed her cheek. “Do you want to know how my heart fills with joy at the thought of what we could have together?” At her nod, his eyes glowed with tenderness. “I dream of loving you openly. Of not having to hide how I feel. Of listening to you talk about your day and the adventures you’ve had. Of watching you with Jane and seeing you with her child.” He paused, a flash of trepidation in his gaze. “Of you in my bed and the passion we share.” At her shaky inhale, he paused. “Forgive me for offending you.”
“No, never offended,” she whispered. “I never hoped to inspire thoughts of passion in a man again.”
Staring at her in confusion, he whispered, “Who filled your head with such nonsense? You know you are beautiful, Vera. Beautiful and smart and compassionate. Everything a man wants. Everything I want.”
Her eyes filled. “Truly?” At his nod, she bit her lip, and she closed her eyes, as though marshaling all her courage. “I loved a man before. When I lived in Minnesota.” She swallowed. “We were so in love, but he didn’t want to tell his family because they wanted him to marry the daughter of a farmer friend. To unite their farms through marriage.” She paused. “I taught school to his younger siblings.”
She paused, her gaze distant, as she remembered old scenes. “I lost, Toby. I lost everyone. I don’t know if I can survive that again.”
“How?” he whispered.
“Blizzards can be fierce there,” she whispered, “and come out of nowhere. He had snuck into town on the pretext of buying something for his mother but really to see me. On the ride back to town, a blizzard struck, and he froze to death.”
“Oh, Vera,” Tobias whispered, lifting her hand to kiss it again.
“I had no right to mourn. No right to do anything more than say a meaningless platitude to his parents and family.” A lone tear trickled down her cheek. “Somehow his mother discovered my attachment to her son. To Bradford.” She shuddered, her gaze flitting to his, as she fought that memory.
“What did she say?”
Another tear cascaded down her cheek. “That no man would ever be satisfied with a woman like me. A woman who was too committed to her work. A woman as cold as a fish with no passion. No soul. That I had been a meaningless dalliance, before he committed himself to Antonia. That I was to never have anything to do wi
th her family again.” Vera gasped for breath. “I went from having friends and the hope for a family to nothing. Again.”
She took a deep breath. “That letter you saw me with at the café?” At his nod, she whispered, “Her daughter found out that I came here. She was less than charitable in her rebuke of me.”
“Lies,” Tobias rasped. “She lied, Vera. They lied.”
She stared at Tobias sorrowfully. “All I can think about is, if everything I thought to be true in the past was a lie, then why couldn’t you be lying too?”
Tobias lurched back, as though she had struck him. “I see.” He rose, dropping her hand and severing any contact with her. He paced away again and stood behind the chair. “Take the time you need, Vera. I want you. I want your friendship. I want your passion. I want your intelligence and humor and joy.” His fervent gaze bore into her. “I want your sorrow, your fears, and your shame. I want all of you. I’m a man, Vera. Not some lumbering idiot boy with a family not worthy of knowing you. A man. I’ll wait for you.”
He spun on his heels, the door slamming shut behind him.
* * *
Annabelle watched Tobias slip outdoors wordlessly from the kitchen. She turned to the stove, blindly stirring the pot in front of her. At that moment, she had no idea what she had cooked, nor if it was near done, raw, or burning up. All she saw was the sincerity in Tobias’s gaze.
A tear dropped to her cheek, and she took a deep breath in an attempt to corral all her emotions. At the soft touch to her arm, she jumped, the spoon clattering to the floor. “Cailean,” she whispered, her tears now falling unheeded, as she gazed into his loving gaze. “I’m being foolish.”
“No, love,” he whispered, tugging her into his strong arms, sighing at the feel of her pressed against his chest. “No, my darling. Share with me why Tobias affected you so. I don’t understand.”
“Skye?” she whispered, shivering as his lips kissed the side of her neck and his hand ran up and down her spine.
“Alistair poked his head in, when you were in your trance, and took her to see the horses. They’ll be away a while yet.” He shifted, settling into a chair, holding her, as he waited for her to reveal what had disturbed her.
A sob burst forth, her fingers digging into his hair as she clung to him.
“Ah, lass, if the man upsets you so, I’ll throw him out now,” Cailean murmured. “I’m sorry to have considered him family because of Jane and Frederick.”
“No,” she gasped, her hold on him tightening so he wouldn’t venture upstairs to discover whatever had occurred between Tobias and Alvira. “No, that’s not it at all.”
She pressed her face against his chest. “Do you know what it means, Cailean, to have you support me, no matter what? After all the years together …”
“It hasn’t been that many, love,” he teased. “We’ve been married five and a half years. I want at least fifty more with you.”
She sighed with pleasure, leaning against him as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “As do I, my love.” She moved her head, easing it back enough so she kissed the underside of his jaw. “I saw Tobias today, seeing fully how much he’s changed, and I was struck by a desperate yearning.”
Shifting her back subtly, Cailean cupped her cheeks, gazing deeply into her gaze. “What yearning?”
Tears formed again and slid free, streaking her cheeks. “That my father could have learned what Tobias has. That my father could have become generous and kind and loving. Rather than the mean, bitter, awful man he was.” She closed her eyes. “I never thought I’d be jealous of Jane for having Tobias as a father.”
Huffing out a laugh, Cailean hauled her close. “Oh, my darlin’. How I love you.” His hands roved over her, earning shudders of delight. “You’re generous and giving and treasured by all who know you. I’m sorry your father didn’t see the wonder of you or Fidelia, but I give thanks every day you didn’t allow his meanness to turn you into a bitter woman. That you remained hopeful and brave.” He kissed her ear, her cheek, and then her lips.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I don’t want to imagine this life without you.” She nestled into his arms, thankful for all she had.
* * *
Alvira gaped at the bedroom door, after Tobias had stormed out, his words ringing in her ears. “I’m a man, Vera. Not some lumbering idiot boy. … A man. I’ll wait for you.” She sat in dumbstruck silence, tears coursing down her cheeks, as she recalled all he had said. Although he had not explained everything to her, she had witnessed his heartache and his regret. She knew, if she asked, he would tell her everything. Every sordid detail that would bring shame and heartache and rip open old wounds. Suddenly she knew she didn’t need to force it out of him. He would tell her what needed to be told in its own time.
With a sigh, she scrubbed her hands over her cheeks, before pressing them against her belly. A knot of fear and anticipation seemed to have taken root there. Did she have the courage to believe fate would be kind this time?
At the soft tap on her door, her breath caught. Her heart raced, and she flushed at the thought of seeing Tobias again so soon. Against her will, she hoped it was Tobias. She already missed him. When Annabelle poked her head in, Alvira collapsed against the pillows in despair.
Smiling wryly, Annabelle entered and sat on the chair Tobias had so recently vacated. “By that sour look on your face, I can tell you were hoping someone else would walk through the door.” She met Alvira’s devastated gaze. “He yanked on his jacket and stormed out.”
Alvira nodded. When Annabelle rocked forward, as though she were about to rise, Alvira blurted out, “How were you brave enough?” At Annabelle’s curious stare, she flushed. “Brave enough to love again?”
Annabelle huffed out a breath and shook her head, her brown eyes lit with bemusement. “Oh, I don’t know if I can truly answer that. I didn’t have much choice. It’s like an emotion outside of my control overtook me.” She swallowed. “Then he broke my heart, and I thought I could never forgive him. That’s when I needed real courage, Miss Damon.”
Annabelle gripped her hands together. “Loving before you’ve been challenged is easy. Loving after you’ve lost everything, finding your ability to trust and to have faith in that person again …” She paused for a long moment. “That’s the true test of your love.”
“I don’t know your story,” Alvira admitted. “I don’t like gossip, and I don’t encourage it.”
“Perhaps you don’t, but I’m certain plenty would like to share it with you.” Annabelle took another deep breath. “I married Cailean because we were caught kissing. A moment of passion that should never have been more than that.” She flushed and shook her head. “Or we should have had the time to court and to come to our own decision about marrying. But, due to my ruined reputation, we were forced to wed.”
Blushing, Annabelle grinned at Alvira. “I won’t lie to you. The first months were wonderful. The true meaning of the word honeymoon.” Her grin faded. “Then I found out I was pregnant. And Cailean wanted nothing to do with me. Feared I would die and leave him alone, as his first wife and her babe had.” Annabelle spoke in a soft flat voice, as though attempting to prevent inflicting any pain from recounting the memories. “I lost the babe and almost died. We were separated, and he didn’t know, until I was fighting a fever and hours away from death.”
Closing her eyes, Annabelle flushed. “I’ve never known such rage. Such all-consuming anger. I needed him, but he wasn’t there for me.” She opened her eyes and met Alvira’s gaze. “I had to find a way through my grief and rage, back to him. Find a way through my sorrow.”
“How?” Alvira whispered. “Tobias has done nothing to me personally. But I know who he was. I know how he acted. And I worry I’m nothing more than a diversion. How do you overcome fear?”
Shaking her head, Annabelle shrugged. “I can’t answer that for you. For me, I realized that, although I had my bakery and my friends and my life that I was building, I didn’t hav
e the one person I wanted most in my life. I alone was denying myself the love I desired. After losing my baby, I knew that nothing was guaranteed but that I wanted whatever happiness I might have for however long I had it. I refused to live only a half-life.”
“A half-life,” Alvira whispered, her gaze wonderstruck. She watched as Annabelle nodded and rose, leaving her to think. In the quiet, Alvira marveled at Annabelle’s generosity of spirit to share so much, when Annabelle didn’t know her well. “She does this for Tobias,” Alvira murmured.
In that instant, her path forward was clear.
* * *
Tobias stormed away from Cailean’s house, suddenly eager to escape town. To escape this life he had been building in vain for so long. He trudged through the snow to his daughter’s house and knocked on her door. When her husband, Ben, answered, Tobias nodded to him. “Might I come in?”
Ben looked him over and frowned. “As long as you assure me that whatever’s got you in such a state won’t upset Jane.”
Tobias heaved out a breath. “No, I’d never want to upset her. Especially now.” He paused. “Is she sleeping? I know how tired women become when they’re expecting.”
Ben smiled. “We were cuddling on our new sofa. Come in and warm yourself by the fire. We’ve plenty of stew to share with you.”
“Stew,” Tobias said appreciatively.
“Father!” Jane called out, as she hopped up from the sofa to throw herself in his embrace. “Oh, I missed seeing you today. Thank you for coming by.” At the immediate concern in his gaze, she smiled impishly. “I feel wonderful.”
Sighing with relief, Tobias settled in the rocking chair, leaning toward the stove to warm his hands. “I’m glad. I don’t have the energy to worry about two of you at once.”
Substitute Montana Bride: Bear Grass Springs, Book Thirteen Page 12
