The Scars of a Pure Heart

by Grace Clemens

  “Macie told us about how you captured the men,” Len said as soon as they were seated at the kitchen table. “What happened with the sheriff? Did they confess that they work for Durning?”

  Judy placed an overflowing plate of hot food in front of Blake and he nodded his thanks as he said, “No. They didn’t. Not to us, anyway. Macie said they told her they worked for Durning, but none of us was close enough to hear it.”

  “I was on top of the canyon wall,” Harris said, “but the echoes made it hard to hear what was being said down below. I can’t swear that I heard any of them say that Durning was behind the attack.”

  A nervous energy seemed to hum around the table. Judy had dished out equally large portions for Troy and Harris who dug in, starved despite the unsettled conclusion to the day’s adventure. Blake was so hungry he felt empty inside. Still, he shoveled in his mother’s casserole, hardly tasting it.

  “Sheriff Mayer wired for the judge,” Troy explained. “He should arrive within a week.”

  Len rubbed at his jaw distractedly. “Durning’s sure to hire a good lawyer.”

  “They might not let Macie testify,” Harris said aloud what they were all thinking. “Not all judges will allow female testimony.”

  “And even if he allows it,” Troy added, “he might not take it seriously.”

  Could they put Macie through a trial? She had been a quick thinker and more courageous than anyone could have asked her to be. Still, would standing up in court and having a lawyer try to break down her story be too much for her? None of the Bradfields could guess.

  “Sheriff Mayer wants to speak with Macie before he swears out a warrant against Durning,” sighed Blake. “I think he wants to hear for himself how strong a case we have.”

  “And in the meantime, we’re still at Lucien’s mercy,” grumbled Judy. “If he decides to harass Macie to keep her from testifying, anything might happen.”

  “We’ll have to keep an eye on her,” said Harris firmly. “One of us will guard her every minute until the trial’s over.”

  Blake scowled at his brother. Why was Harris so quick to protect Macie? Surely it was more than just brotherly concern. After witnessing the warmth that flowed between them earlier, Blake was sure his suspicions were confirmed. There was some warm affection existing between the two. Were Harris and Macie falling in love?

  Any time he allowed himself to think about it, Blake felt like he’d been punched in the gut. It was this fear that made him gruff when Macie finally awoke from her nap. After saying their good-byes, they headed home.

  “I’m glad everyone’s unhurt,” Macie broke the silence as they walked.

  Blake grunted a reply, illogically confidant that she was referring to Harris.

  “Do you really think the judge might not let me testify?” she inquired.

  He threw her an assessing glance and caught the worry in her expression. It was tempting to soften, to put his arm around her, to tell her everything would be fine. But what if it was his brother she wanted to comfort her instead? The thought made him stiffen.

  “We’ll see,” was all Blake would say.

  Macie wrapped her arms around herself as though refusing any comfort he might offer. A flash of irritation crackled down his spine before Blake grudgingly admitted that he had no one to blame but himself. He hadn’t offered to comfort her, after all. Thanks to Blake, she had only herself to do that duty.

  ***

  Over the next few days, Macie couldn’t figure out why Blake was so standoffish. Gone was the friendly conversation around the fireplace in the evenings. These days, they struggled to find something to discuss when they ate their meals together. And, though he was around much more often when taking his turns guarding her, Macie decided Blake might as well be miles away for all the notice he gave her.

  Harris and even Troy were much friendlier. In fact, it was almost a relief when one of them took over guard duty. It was always easy to get Troy talking about Troy Junior or Judith. And Harris seemed eager to talk with Macie when they were alone, too.

  “I met a girl in town,” he confided one late afternoon as they sat on the back porch of Macie’s cabin, shelling peas.

  Macie grinned at him before reflecting on how rarely she smiled these days. “Who’s the luck girl?” she pressed.

  “Her name is Ivy Barrineau,” Harris said almost reverently. “Her father has come on as a part owner of the bank. She’s real refined.”

  “When did you meet her?” Macie asked.

  Her heart squeezed enviously as she watched the dreamy look in Harris’ eyes. It now seemed quite certain that Blake would never feel this sort of thing for her. She was truly glad for her brother-in-law, but that didn’t stop a stab of regret from making her all too aware of her own shortcomings in the romance department.

  “I bumped into her when I was last in town. I went to the blacksmith’s to put in an order for Pa. I was walking to the mercantile and she came out of the post office and we almost knocked each other over.” He grinned, eyes glazed as he remembered.

  “Sounds like it was love at first sight,” Macie commented.

  “I think it was for both of us.” Harris began to wax on about the wonders of being in love.

  Blake approached, scowling as he did so often these days.

  Macie sighed inwardly. What was stuck in her husband’s craw? She feared that he was chafing at being stuck with her when he wanted to be with Belle Nelson. It was the only possible solution she could imagine. Did hearing Harris’ soliloquy about being in love remind Blake of Belle?

  Her husband did little more than grunt his greeting before stomping inside the cabin and shutting the door with more force than necessary. Macie looked down at the bowl in her lap, willing herself not to cry.

  It didn’t help that Sheriff Mayer wasn’t hopeful about their chances of getting Lucien convicted. He had believed Macie’s description of events and arrested Durning, though he was straightforward enough as to the likely outcome.

  “Judge Adams is a decent fellow,” he informed the family when he came by to tell them about the date for the trial. “I was glad to hear that he was the circuit court judge assigned to our case. However, Durning’s hired a fancy lawyer from Austin to defend him. He won’t hesitate to try every trick in the book to get you to admit that you might not be credible.”

  Though Macie assured him that she wasn’t afraid, she had plenty of doubts. Later that night, when she was alone with Blake, she found that she couldn’t concentrate on anything. She’d dropped a stitch for the third time and finally settled the scarf she was working on into her lap with a sigh.

  “Do you think I can do a good job testifying?” she asked Blake suddenly.

  Her husband glanced up from the book in his hand he’d been staring through and regarded her mutely.

  Macie leaned forward, needing Blake to tell her that she had his confidence. “What if I get up there and I can’t answer the lawyer’s questions well? What if the judge doesn’t believe me, no matter how well I do?”

  Blake seemed to be wrestling with himself and her stomach knotted. Did he really have so little faith in her?

  “You’ve surprised me with your cleverness plenty of times,” he finally said aloud. “If any woman I know can convince this judge she’s in the right, it’s you.”

  Macie felt her worry melt away and she smiled at him. “You really think so?”

  “Yep,” he replied briefly.

  The cabin seemed filled with the tension of things left unsaid. Macie couldn’t bring herself to ask Blake about Belle. Though she wanted desperately to have some resolution to the situation, she couldn’t bear forcing the moment when Blake told her that he didn’t want to be married to her any longer.

  Sitting there together, Macie admitted to herself that she was in love with him. Despite his prickliness of late, despite his quick temper, despite the fact that he loved someone else, she knew that Blake Bradfield was the only man in the world she would ever love.<
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  She was so very proud of the way he’d come through his grandfather’s treasure hunt. Blake had laid aside his childish dreams and taken on the mantle of responsibility. Not many men would be willing to admit their mistakes, but Blake had. He was a hard worker and willing to take risks. Now, though, he was putting that willingness towards creating a better ranch.

  Besides all that, Macie loved being with him. Before things had gotten so strange between them, they’d filled many hours with friendly conversation. Even now, her heart jumped when he came through the door for supper. She’d think of a dozen things through the day that she wanted to talk over with him. Sometimes, she’d catch sight of him working with the cattle or talking with his brothers, and her heart would start to pound and her cheeks flush happily.

  He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for her. Blake had been there for her at her family’s homestead. He’d led the rescue when she’d been taken hostage. They’d sat under a night sky full of stars together, silently awed by the beauty of it all.

  Blake’s dream had changed but so had Macie’s. She didn’t dream of having a place to call home anymore. Now, she dreamed of building a life with Blake. It was his family and his children she wanted to call her own. Nothing less would do, she now knew.

  And it would never happen, she reminded herself. Macie stole another peek at him and tears welled. She prayed silently that she would be able to find a new dream for herself, too. If Blake could embrace a new adventure, surely Macie could too. Though she knew doing so would break her heart.

  Chapter 37

  The week leading up to the trial was a miserable muddle for Blake. He was forced into close proximity with Macie and every moment was torturous. She was her kind, lovely self and Blake had to constantly fight his growing feelings for her.

  If the situation was different, Blake was sure he’d have fought for her. But Blake had done Macie wrong so many times that he felt he owed her a debt. Surely annulling the marriage was the only decent thing to do? Besides, she was in love with his brother. Could he make his own little brother miserable so that Blake could get what he wanted? He might want Macie, but Blake knew through and through that he didn’t deserve her.

  And Harris was clearly love-struck. When Blake had come in and overheard him mooning over Macie, neither of them had even bothered to look embarrassed! Macie might have protested that she didn’t want to end their marriage but neither was she rejecting Harris’ declarations. She was an honorable woman and Blake knew what the right thing to do was.

  He told himself they needed to get through the trial and then he’d talk to Iver about starting the annulment proceedings. The lawyer had advised the family that Macie needed to appear every inch the good, contented wife. Judges often doubted women who were anything other than happy in their proper womanly roles.

  So, as her husband, Blake would sit with her in the courtroom and offer her his support. If anyone suspected that they were anything else that contented in their marriage, it might mean Durning went free.

  The morning of the trial dawned hot and humid with the threat of rain adding to the tense atmosphere of the day. Blake ate the eggs Macie put in front of him but hardly remembered doing so. Across from him, Macie tore a slice of toast into smaller pieces without ever actually eating one of them, her eyes staring blankly at the table.

  By the time the Bradfield men and Macie slid into their seats at the local church, they were all too nervous to talk. Judge Adams had asked for the use of the church since there was no courthouse in Elmswood. The pulpit had been moved and he’d taken up his seat on the platform. Down below, two tables had been brought in and placed in front of the front pew on either end. The lawyers were shuffling papers and looking serious.

  Then the judge banged his gavel and the trial began. The lawyers took turns making opening statements. Iver Kennedy had recused himself, citing his own involvement in the case. The prosecution, therefore, was being handled by a Mr. Dorian, who had also been brought in from Austin. In Blake’s opinion, this Mr. Dorian seemed altogether too young to take on Lucien’s pompous lawyer, Mr. Lewis.

  However, once Mr. Dorian laid out the accusation against Lucien Durning, Blake’s opinion of the man had risen. His argument had been concise and convincing, at least in Blake’s eyes. Yet, when the grandfatherly Mr. Lewis stood and paced the front of the room, smiling at the room as though they must all agree that the accusation against this upstanding citizen and fine family man were absurd, Blake’s confidence wavered.

  The Bradfields exchanged nervous glances up and down the row. Blake noticed that Macie’s hands were clenched so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white. He didn’t pause to consider before reaching out and putting his hand comfortingly on hers.

  “Just tell your side of things,” he whispered. “That’s all you have to do.”

  Macie gave him a worried nod just as she was called to the stand. She walked stiffly, Blake thought, and prayed fervently that she’d have the courage she’d need to face Mr. Lewis’ questions.

  Mr. Dorian began. He prompted Macie to share each moment of the events of the day the Bradfields sprung their trap. As she talked, Blake watched Macie begin to relax. Her voice was clear and confident. Blake couldn’t imagine how Mr. Lewis or Judge Adams might doubt her word. But the defense lawyer was frowning and scribbling notes as she talked.

  After almost a half hour, Mr. Dorian smiled and said, “Thank you, Mrs. Bradfield. No more questions, your honor.”

  Mr. Lewis heaved himself to his feet. Then, as though he was an actor trained for the stage, he slowly walked around the table, shaking his head.

  “I’m terribly sorry for the trouble you’ve had,” he began. “What a fright you’ve endured, Mrs. Bradfield! However,” here he paused as though trying to find the right words to express his concern, “I can’t help but speculate that, in your terror, you might have made a mistake. It would be perfectly understandable, of course.”

  Mr. Dorian pushed to his feet. “Where’s the question? This is speculation!”

  “I agree,” the judge nodded.

  “Of course,” Mr. Lewis bobbed his head. “Mrs. Bradfield, you yourself said that things happened quickly. Is it possible that you didn’t hear what Hank Dawson said?”

  Macie’s shoulders straightened and she shook her head, “No. When Hank said that Lucien Durning was his boss, things were quiet.”

  “I see.” Mr. Lewis didn’t seem remotely put off by her firm refusal. “Mrs. Bradfield, forgive me for bringing up such a painful memory, but may I ask about how you came to get those scars on your chin?”

  Blake’s temper flared. How was this any of the court’s business?

  Up on the stage, Macie’s eyes grew wider. She’d been taken off guard by this line of questioning, too. Her fingers fluttered subconsciously to her chin.

  “I had smallpox five years ago,” she admitted.

  “I’m sorry to hear it,” Mr. Lewis said in a convincing imitation of sincere regret. “You lost your family at the same time, did you not?”

  “Yes,” Macie said, a question in her voice.

  What was this man doing? Blake wondered, concern growing with every passing minute.

  Mr. Lewis stepped forward and dropped his voice as though trying to force a confidence between just the two of them. “Is it true that you were a mail order bride for Mr. Bradfield?”

  Macie’s cheeks colored slightly and she said, “Yes,” though not as boldly as before.

  “How do you get on with your new in-laws?” the lawyer asked conversationally.

  “I get along with them well,” she replied cautiously.

  Blake rubbed his sweating palms on his knees, waiting for whatever trap the lawyer was laying to spring.