Blake went on, having warmed to his topic. “I get so angry with Pa. It’s like he forgets all of that. Granddad might have chosen to go off on his own when he was older, but he worked hard all his life. We get to live a good life because of him, yet my family resents him for not sticking around.
“I also resent the people of Elmswood for gossiping about him. They have the nerve to call him a crackpot!” Blake’s knuckles were white as he gripped the whittling knife in his hand, old wounds flaring. “Everyone thought he was trying to find some imaginary treasure. No one else understood that he loved the adventure of it. And his own family refused to stand up for him against all that talk.”
And on one particularly warm evening, Blake went so far as admit to his wife, “Sometimes, lately especially, I get tired of the monotony of life here. I suppose each day isn’t just like the one before, but season after season, we do the same things over and over. No matter how much we do, there’s always a long list of things needing to be done. We’ll never finish everything and it’ll all be there to be done again before long.”
He sighed, leaning back and smiling dreamily, “But if I was out on the road, every day would hold all sorts of unknown things. I could do something new each day if I liked.”
And from her seat across from him, Macie nodded quietly. Blake felt closer to Macie with each night’s revelations, though he couldn’t put a finger on what was going on with her. A week of living together had passed and he couldn’t have been happier. Any time thoughts of the future came knocking, Blake flatly refused to open the door. But Macie didn’t seem to be enjoying it as much.
He began to worry that there was something about him she didn’t like. Did she find him repulsive? Was washing his clothes and cooking his meals making her resent him? Blake watched her closely for signs that she was unhappy. She smiled politely at him, listened when he talked, and never shirked a single chore. Outwardly, Macie seemed fine. As to what was going on inwardly, Blake couldn’t begin to guess.
Maybe that was the very problem. Blake began to try and get his wife to open up and share her own thoughts. Macie answered his questions kindly, but then turned his questions back on him without elaborating on her brief responses. By the end of the night, Blake found himself in his loft, frustrated that he hadn’t learned anything that really mattered about his wife.
***
Judy was particularly grateful for Macie’s help with the enormous vegetable garden she maintained. As the weather was hot and dry, it took a lot of watering. Like her son, Judy opened up more and more as the days went by. The two women spent many an hour dipping water over the plants as the day’s heat waned. Macie was glad for the increasing intimacy, as it allowed her to ask the questions that had grown in her mind.
“Was there ever a time that Blake and Len got along well?” Macie asked.
Her mother-in-law lifted an eyebrow. “It isn’t that the pair of them don’t get on, it’s more that they butt heads about things and are too stubborn to admit when they’re wrong. They’re too much alike.”
“Hot tempered?” Macie observed.
“Right in one,” laughed Judy. “’Course, Blake is like me in that he’s actually willing to talk about things. Len can be like a stone wall when it comes to talking about what he’s feeling. I’ve learned to wait and he’ll tell me what he’s thinking when he’s ready and not a moment sooner.”
The younger woman mustered her courage and asked, “What was Ewell like?” At Judy’s quizzical look, she explained, “Blake idolized him. Don’t get me wrong; I was glad for the time we spent on the treasure hunt. It was far better than I expected. But I feel like my life is being dictated by the whims of a man I’ve never met. All Blake has to say about his grandfather is how wonderful and misunderstood he was. I’d like to hear what you thought of him.”
Satisfied by her daughter-in-law’s motives, Judy collected her thoughts before beginning, “Ewell was devoted to his wife. They were married forty years when she died suddenly. It hit him hard. I think he saw her everywhere when he was at the ranch after it happened. Part of getting away was having a chance to stop missing her every moment of every day.”
Macie nodded as she dripped water onto a thirsty tomato plant, trying to absorb this knowledge.
Judy reached for a weed, plucked it up in one smooth motion, and continued talking all the while, “To Len, Ewell leaving was a betrayal. He thought his father was abandoning him and expecting Len to take over the ranch at a moment’s notice. Len really floundered that first year in particular. There were times that he would have benefited greatly from his father’s help.
“Of course, he learned plenty. He made some mistakes, but the ranch didn’t suffer too badly. I think, sometimes, that Len only remembers those mistakes when he thinks of those first years. Whenever Ewell came home, Len felt that he had to report all the ways he hadn’t measured up. I’m sure he believed that his father thought him a failure.”
The older woman stood and stretched, rubbing her lower back. “Blake loved it when Ewell came home. He hung on his granddad’s every word. Ewell filled that boy’s head with adventure and then fanned the flame by creating treasure hunts for him.” Judy sighed and shook her head. “Blake would spend hours disappearing to follow Ewell’s directions. It didn’t help Len that he’d shirk his chores to follow some flight of fancy.”
“Do you think Ewell was wrong to leave the treasure hunts for Blake?” Macie wondered.
“No. It was only natural that he wanted to share his adventures with the one person who cared about them like he did. If Len would have let him, Blake would have taken off with his grandfather the last few times he went. To be honest, it would have soothed me to know that Ewell wasn’t out there on his own as he grew older and older.”
That was something to think about. Macie tucked it away to ponder later and pressed, “So, you don’t agree with Len, Troy, and Harris that Ewell was being selfish when he left?”
“No,” Judy brushed that away with a wave of her hand. “Ewell loved his family. I know it hurt him that Len didn’t understand. Ewell never wanted to cause so much trouble for his son. I suppose he was so happy to be married that it hurt too much when his wife was gone to stick around.”
Judy’s eyes grew soft and she reached over, holding Macie’s jaw in her hand. “I think Blake is on his way to being every bit as happy being married to you. He’s always been restless. Since you’ve come back from your trip, he’s settling to life here better than I ever dreamed. We have you to thank for that, Macie.”
Uncomfortably, Macie tried to smile. The right response evaded her.
But Judy didn’t notice her daughter-in-law’s discomfort. She plowed on ahead, cheekily adding, “Of course, the way Blake looks at you when he thinks you aren’t looking is one of the most romantic things I’ve ever seen. If you’d asked me a few months back, I would have told you that boy would be a bachelor all the days of his life. But he’s fallen in love with you, no doubt about it!”
“I need to fill my bucket,” Macie mumbled, glad for the respite.
She turned and made her way back to the pump, her face heating. Was Judy right? Did Blake love her? It didn’t seem possible. With all his talk about going off on his own, Blake seemed more in love with the idea of freedom than with his wife.
As she worked the pump’s handle, Macie stole a glance at her mother-in-law. Maybe Judy only thought that Blake was in love because she didn’t know the truth. If Macie explained that theirs was only a marriage of convenience, would Judy interpret her son’s actions differently?
Guiltily, the young woman wondered how disappointed her in-laws would be when no baby appeared. Were they hoping that Macie’s appearance meant that their passel of grandchildren would soon grow? A knot twisted in her stomach. Not being honest was selfish, surely.
Still, as Macie hauled the full bucket back to the garden, she knew that she couldn’t face Judy’s hurt when she learned that Blake’s plans for his life really h
adn’t changed much. Macie would be sticking around for good, but she wasn’t much of a replacement for Blake. And there wouldn’t be any grandchildren at the rate they were going, Macie thought, then flushed with embarrassment at the thought.
Chapter 22
Spending an afternoon playing with little Troy Junior did nothing to assuage Macie’s guilt. The small lad was delightful. His exhausted mother had been convinced to lie down and rest only after Macie promised to wake her should the boy become too difficult.
Macie had fed Troy Junior his lunch, laughing at his antics. And with a fresh audience who found him adorable, the lad had put on quite a show. Once he’d eaten the last crumbs and emptied his cup of milk, Troy Junior insisted his new aunt played with his blocks. The two built towers which Troy knocked over, laughing increasingly hysterically with each crash.
Finally, the little boy was so sleepy he allowed Macie to hold him on her lap. His tired eyes succumbed to the call of sleep and Macie settled back on the sofa, enjoying cradling him. It was a hot day and his warmth didn’t help. Still, the young woman hoped her small charge would sleep for some time right where he was.
Then there was nothing to do but think. Macie’s thoughts turned to the idea of family. It was funny, but the treasure hunt with Blake and this week spent as part of his family had done far more to heal her heart than she ever would have guessed. All those years, Macie had dreamed of visiting her parents’ homestead, sure it would give her closure. But she’d been wrong.
Now, though, she couldn’t deny that her heart was finally knitting itself back together. It wasn’t memories of her family that had done the trick; it was being a part of a new family that made all the difference. Aunt Jane and Lorna had allowed Macie to live with them, but it wasn’t the same. Aunt Jane had taken her job as matchmaker so seriously that Macie had never felt at home. Of course, it might just have been that she was too much of a country mouse to be comfortable in the city.
She ran a hand lightly over Troy Junior’s rusty curls. Was this what Blake had looked like at that age? If they ever had a son of their own, would he resemble this cousin?
Macie sighed heavily. It was becoming apparent that either she or Blake would have to sacrifice a dearly held ambition in order to build a happy marriage. Either Macie would have children and a husband and a home or Blake would be free to go adventuring. The two couldn’t co-exist as it was. Both scenarios pulled at Macie, demanding that each was the best option.
The more she learned about Ewell’s intentions, the more she believed that he would side with her in this. Yet, Macie couldn’t bring herself to fight for her husband’s surrender. It wouldn’t be right for her to support Blake if he resigned himself to staying home.
She wondered if Blake was truly oblivious to his granddad’s intentions. Did Blake really not have any inkling that the treasure hunt was just a ploy? Surely, Ewell would urge her to tell her husband that she wanted him to stay home and build a life with her.
But something held her back. Now, as she sat in the quiet, a faint breeze drifting lazily through the room, Macie allowed herself to face the truth. She wanted Blake to choose her of his own accord. Begging him to stay and be a true husband would cheapen any success she might experience in that department.
This marriage might have started as little more than a business venture, but it was so much more now. The dream of Blake falling in love with her was growing more appealing all the time.
Macie’s fingers trailed over the bumps on her jaw as she considered all of this. Blake had never given her any reason to think her scars bothered him. Still, over the years, they’d come to represent her inability to make a good match. Now she wondered what her husband really thought of her. Did he find her unappealing? Too demanding? Were her flaws too much for him to see past?
The future was impossible to predict. Though her heart was healing from the loss of her family, a new wound was beginning to send out ripples of discomfort. Before she’d gained any actual experience with marriage, Macie had believed that she could be content with an amicable union. Falling in love and being in love would be nice, of course, but unnecessary to her future happiness.
Now that she knew Blake, all that was revealed to be nothing more than hogwash. Blake was handsome and a hard worker. The more he shared about himself, the more Macie came to understand him and care for him. He was usually polite and thoughtful where she was concerned. Still, her heart longed for more. Unfortunately, if he took off for months at a time, that longing would likely go unmet.
Macie looked down at the sleeping tot on her lap and her heart squeezed painfully. What was she going to do? As a last resort, her heart turned to prayer, a little ashamed it had taken her this long to get around to it.
***
Blake watched as his father knelt and examined the broken wires which now lay limply on the ground. Len lifted the barbed wire in his heavily gloved hand.
“It’s been cut,” the older man confirmed with a grunt.
The sound of horses’ hooves approaching drew their gaze. Len pushed himself to his feet wearily and dusted off the knees of his trousers with his Stetson. The horses drew to a halt and Harris and Troy dismounted. The newcomers stood, grim faced, waiting to share their information.
“Are we missing many?” Len asked.
Harris shook his head. “We were in a hurry, so we weren’t overly careful. Still, not more than half a dozen head were unaccounted for.”
“This wasn’t done by rustlers,” Troy concluded.
“Well, someone cut the wires. But if it wasn’t rustlers, I don’t know who would have done it. If it’s a prank of some sort, it’s a pricey one.” Len dropped his hat back into place and frowned, his eyes searching his spread for answers.
“How many spots were cut?” Blake inquired.
“Rusty said they found almost twenty places with wires down.” Harris’ eyes went between his brothers and his father, waiting for their assessment of the strange occurrence.
Troy took a deep breath and voiced what they were all thinking, “Between the fire and the fence, I think someone’s trying to cause trouble around here.”
“I think I know who,” Blake admitted, bracing himself for the fallout.
The other three men eyed him suspiciously. Blake didn’t want to face more of their disapproval, but he couldn’t in good conscience keep his interaction with Lucien Durning to himself any longer.
“What do you know, boy?” his father demanded.
“I ran into Lucien Durning in town some time ago,” Blake began.
Len interrupted him with a snort and a dismissive wave of the hand. “Durning’s a windbag, nothing more.”
“No, this time was different,” Blake insisted. “He threatened Macie and Ma and Clora.”
He watched Troy as he said this. The older Bradfield reacted instinctively, his face clouding and posture changing in an instant.
“Durning insisted he always got what he wanted. Didn’t we find it suspicious when Tom Scouten sold out to Durning last year? He kept things pretty close to the vest, but I wonder if Durning somehow forced him off his land,” Blake speculated. “And the Normans left their farm last winter, too. I remember being surprised they took off so fast.”
Len rubbed at his chin, contemplating. “I just can’t reconcile that smug little man with those sort of underhanded dealings.”
Again, Blake felt his temper rising and he spat, “I don’t know why I bother telling you things, Pa. You never believe me. I agreed with Granddad and so I must be wrong about everything in your mind. Well, I’m telling you that Lucien Durning threatened our ranch not two weeks back. If you’re too stubborn to listen, then you deserve whatever he decides to dish out.”
It was Troy, though, who grew angry in response. “Why didn’t you say something sooner, Blake? That man threatened my wife and you didn’t bother to tell me? What if he’d come after Clora or Troy Junior? I wouldn’t have had any idea what was happening or why! And you were off w
andering around during the fire! When are you going to grow up and take on some of the responsibility around here? If you’d rather waste time like Granddad, you might as well get going. Then we’d know not to expect your help.”
The Scars of a Pure Heart Page 16
