His Blessing in Disguise: A Western Historical Romance Novel
Page 8
Peter’s heart beat hard but steady in his chest as he listened to Layla’s story. They’d spent so much time together, but for the first time, he felt as if she was being open with him. He felt as if he was finally getting to see behind the wall she always had up—and what lay behind was heartbreakingly delicate and beautiful.
Layla sniffled and her lips trembled as she continued. “Jacob was handsome. He was the first man to look me like that, who looked like that,” she admitted. “There were men who were interested me, local ranchers and some homesteaders, but I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to be stuck in one place my whole life.” Her eyes lifted to meet Peter’s. “He said I wouldn’t have to. He told me there was a whole big world out there, and he’d show me. And I wanted to see it.”
Peter sighed internally. You just wanted more your whole life, didn’t you? He saw that and he played on it.
“It was real quick. He talked to me about all the places he’d been and the things he’d seen. He told me he’d take me away from Tipper, and maybe take me to New York or one of those big cities.” She scoffed. “We never got there. We only got as far as Silvertown.”
Peter could see the disappointment in Layla’s eyes. If he had to guess, he suspected that she’d seen a lot of that in her life. You deserve better.
“He proposed on my birthday, and we married a couple of weeks later,” Layla explained. “It was just that quick. We left town a few days after that, and that’s when I finally saw the man I married.”
Silence was the only response Peter could give. He was engrossed by the story he was being told. He didn’t want to take the chance of interrupting Layla and have her shut the door on him again. He wanted the truth. All of it.
“It wasn’t bad at first. Then, it began to change. I realized he wanted me more to do what I did at the boarding house. We never went anywhere or did nothing. He’d be gone for long periods to get money, and when he came back, he’d spend it all on drinks and fun.” Layla breathed deeply. “When he was drunk, he got mean. He’d call me names. Push me around. When I talked back, I got slapped—but only when he was drunk,” she explained as her eyes searched his. “He never did it when he was sober. He was just cruel in his words.”
Peter’s jaw clenched. He’d hit her? Jacob had dared to hit her? Anger ripped through his veins and made his head hot. Peter could never understand how someone could call themselves a man when they’d hit a woman. It was abhorrent to Peter, something he had no tolerance for. If Jacob tried to touch Layla again, he’d have Peter to deal with.
“He’d throw things a lot,” Layla continued. “Especially when things weren’t going well. It was usually my fault. I was always doing something to ruin his plans, but I didn’t even know them.”
Peter had heard enough.
“That’s over now,” he stated emphatically. “That part of your life is over and done with. Jacob can’t make you go back. If he tries, he’ll have to deal with me.”
“Peter,” she said softly as tears filled her eyes again. The sight of them did something to him. It melted his insides as she pulled him into a hug. “Thank you,” she cried.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, somewhat uncomfortably. His heart was beating fast and he was feeling a bit embarrassed by her gratitude.
“No, I have to,” Layla continued to cry. “Thank you for caring.”
Peter’s arms, which held her loosely, tightened around Layla’s middle. “I do care,” he whispered. I really do. More than you know.
He felt Layla’s body as it began to shake, lightly at first and then more forcefully as her silent tears became wrenching sobs. “I just wanted a new life,” she lamented. “I just wanted to be happy. Why can’t I have that? Why is it always denied me? What did I ever do to deserve this?”
Peter’s arms drew her nearer. He wished he could erase all the pain Layla had ever felt. He wished he could heal her wounds. She wasn’t the tough woman she pretended to be. She was crying for help. She’d probably been crying out for help for years, and no one listened. That was why the kindness she’d found in Richstone had impacted her the way it did. She’d never been cared for. People had taken advantage of or disregarded Layla for so long, she didn’t know how it felt to be important.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her dark hair. “I’m sorry for all the times that you weren’t seen. I’m sorry for not seeing you myself,” he apologized. “You came to town and I tried to pick you apart. I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry if I made your attempts to move on with your life more difficult.”
Layla’s sobs stilled as she pulled back to look at him. “You didn’t do anything to hurt me,” she replied. “You made it better. That’s why I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t you to be a part of this, because you were part of my new life. You are the part that’s good.”
As Peter listened to her words, for the first time in a long time, he felt like a man again. Since Celia’s death, had only been a few times that Peter felt like he was truly protecting anyone. That he had what it took to be responsible for another person. He had failed Celia, but here was Layla, telling him how he’d contributed to the good part of her life. It made him feel good and he wanted to keep that feeling. He wanted to be more than just the person who added to her new future—he wanted to be an integral part of it.
“You’ve been so good to me,” Layla continued. “You made me feel as if I was cared for.”
“Because you are,” Peter interrupted gently. “I care, Annabelle cares, and anyone who meets you cares, Layla. You’re someone that people can’t help liking and caring about.”
Peter hoped his words were getting through to her. Layla was more special than she knew, and he wanted her to be aware of that. He wanted her to know how he saw her.
In Peter’s mind, there was no one more special, beautiful, or important than Layla McCarthy. She’d walked into his life and torn open his heart—and now, there was one person living inside it: Layla. He couldn’t tell her that, of course. Before, it was because he was unwilling to admit it to himself, now it was because he couldn’t admit it to her. She was a married woman, and until that changed, he had to keep his feelings to himself, despite his desire to tell her everything.
“Layla, is there anything in you that still wants Jacob in your life?” Peter asked. He hated to ask, but he had to. He needed to know if there was any chance for him, and the only way he was going to know that was if Layla could tell him that she didn’t want Jacob.
“Peter, I don’t want Jacob in my life. I don’t want to go back to that. I want to move forward. I want more than what I had. I just want more,” she sighed.
Peter could feel her desperation. “I know what you mean.”
“Do you?” Layla asked sadly.
He took her hands once more. “Yes, I do.” He smiled at her weakly. “I came to Richstone because I wanted more. I thought I could find my dream here—and I did, to some extent. Richstone is a good place for starting over and making your dreams come true,” he explained. “You made a good choice when you came here.”
“Now look at what’s happening,” she grumbled.
Peter shook it off. “Jacob’s arrival doesn’t have to change what you want or what you can have,” he insisted. He couldn’t bring himself to refer to Jacob as Layla’s husband. It was almost painful to admit.
“He changes everything,” Layla protested. Her cheeks were dry now, but the streaks where the tears had rolled down them still marked her skin. “He’s planning on staying in town.”
“He is?” Peter questioned as his back straightened. “He told you this?”
Layla nodded. “Yes. He’s going to stay. He told me so just now.”
Peter’s mind began to whirl. Jacob was staying in town? Why? Did he have some connections in town? Was this an attempt to stay close to Layla? He knew he wasn’t going to have peace until he found out. Peter needed to know what Jacob was up to, but he couldn’t tell Layla that.
The
man Layla had described was a manipulator; Peter knew the sort. He wasn’t going to stay in town without reason. He wanted something, or already had something lined up—and whatever it was, Peter was going to find out. He wasn’t about to let Jacob McCarthy come into his town and turn it upside down, and he certainly wasn’t about to let him upset Layla’s plans for her future, either.
“It doesn’t matter what he said,” Peter insisted. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. If you don’t want him in the saloon, then I can make sure he stays out.”
Layla shook her head. “No,” she said quickly. “I don’t want people knowing that there’s somethin’ between me and him. I just want things to stay the way they are. I don’t want them knowing the truth.”
“Alright,” Peter replied calmly. He could understand her feelings. “I won’t do anything to Jacob or his men, but if he lays a hand on you, Layla, I want you to tell me. I won’t let him treat you the way he did when you were in Silvertown. This is Richstone and we protect our own, and you are ours,” he insisted. In his heart, Peter wanted to say more, but his lips remained sealed.
“I think you should call it a night,” Peter suggested, noting the weary look on Layla’s face.
“No, I’m alright,” she insisted.
“Layla, I want you to go home and get some rest. You’ve had a shock. It’s been a really long day, very busy, and with some surprises,” Peter continued. “It’s bound to take everything out of you.”
“Peter, I won’t bring any trouble to the saloon,” Layla said suddenly. Her statement took him by surprise.
“I never thought you would, Layla,” Peter replied. “Jacob isn’t your issue. Whatever he chooses to do is up to him. Don’t let him get you involved,” he instructed.
Layla nodded.
“You do have to make a choice though, and it’s something I think you should consider now. Running away doesn’t make you any less of a married woman, despite your wish to move forward in your life. If what you want is really what you say, then you’re going to have to face Jacob and ask for a divorce if you ever want to be free of him.”
Layla’s eyes grew wide. Her gaze lowered from his. “I know. I guess I always knew. I was just scared,” she admitted. “I didn’t think he’d let me go.”
“He will,” Peter insisted. “You file the papers and you make the move to divorce. He can fight, but in the end, if he’s treated you so poorly, I’m sure a judge could be persuaded to end the marriage.”
“Do you think so?” Layla said with a hint of hopefulness.
“Yes,” he answered with a smile. “But you have to do the right thing—you have to file for divorce. Now, I can’t make you or decide any of this for you. You have to do this for yourself.” He got to his feet. “You want a new life, Layla, it’s going to cost you the old one.”
Layla stood and again nodded. “I want a new life.”
Peter smiled at her. “Then I’m here for you.”
Chapter Ten
It was a cool day, and Layla was enjoying the breeze that was passing through town. Her dark hair was pulled back behind her head in a smooth bun. Her dress was chocolate in color, covered by a white apron, trimmed with lace on the front. She felt good, despite everything was happening around her.
Termites had infiltrated the house and it was coming apart, much to her and Annabelle’s dismay. Layla was on her way to find out the cost to replace the wood and nails and a few other items they needed to make the repairs. Gilbert Donovan, the town carpenter, was to come by later that day to estimate the cost.
Layla hoped it wasn’t much. Annabelle couldn’t afford a big expense, and neither could Layla. Then, there was the matter of her husband.
Jacob, in uncustomary fashion, had kept his word to stay in town. However, she’d done her best to avoid him in that time. When Layla went to work, Peter or Annabelle walked with her. When she left, Peter usually escorted her home. There was no time for her to meet Jacob. During the day, he was at the mine—only on the odd occasion did he come into town and to the saloon for lunch. Layla did her best on those occasions to keep the conversation short. She wanted nothing to do with Jacob; still, she had yet to do the one thing she knew she should.
Peter’s words still reverberated in her mind. You want a new life, Layla, it’s going to cost you the old one.
He was right. She knew he was, but he didn’t understand how hard it was to do what was right. He was naturally inclined to it, and he wasn’t afraid of anything. She was. Peter had nothing to lose, but Layla had everything to lose.
If she threatened to divorce Jacob, how would he take it? She doubted very much that he would accept it. His appearance and determination to stay in Richstone because of her was evidence of that. Then, there was the truth she hadn’t shared with Peter—the fact that her husband was a wanted man.
“Layla,” Jacob’s voice interrupted her meandering thoughts. She raised her eyes to find her him standing under the covered walk to her left. She met his eye, paused a moment, then began to continue walking.
“Wait!” Jacob called as he rushed to her side. His boys weren’t with him for a change, which was odd. He usually moved with them like a pack of hungry wolves. It had been their way since they were children, Jacob had explained. They were all from the same orphanage, and had been together ever since that time. They never left each other. What one did, the others followed.
“What’d you want, Jacob?” she asked sharply. “Can’t you see I don’t want anything to do with you?”
“I know that,” Jacob replied to Layla’s surprise. He gently took hold of her arm. “I know,” he repeated. “Please, just give me a minute. I’d like to talk to yah.”
“What do you want Jacob?” she asked as she kept her eyes on those passing on the street. No one seemed to be taking notice, but it still didn’t make Layla feel any better about Jacob approaching her.
He looked at her pleadingly. “I know I don’t deserve to ask you for you nothin’, but I’m gonna,” he stated. “I’m gonna, because I have to.”
“Why? Why are you doing this Jacob?” She looked at him, puzzled. He had never been so determined to spend time talking to her in their entire marriage. Why now?
“Because I’ve seen my wrong Layla. I have. I just need a few minutes to talk to you. That’s all I want. Please, just hear me out?” he pleaded. He let go of her arm. “Please?”
Layla watched as Jacob’s hand released her and moved to his side. He wasn’t yelling like he usually would when she defied him, and he wasn’t trying to force her, either. She looked at him skeptically. Who was this man standing in front of her? He looked like her husband, but he didn’t act like the Jacob McCarthy she knew.
“A few minutes,” she agreed as she followed him back to the shade of the overhang of the walkway.
Jacob’s smile was like a schoolboy who’d just been let out early. He turned to the place where he’d come from and Layla followed him nervously. She kept her distance from him, just in case the Jacob she knew appeared, but he didn’t.
“Layla,” Jacob began. “Layla, I’ve been in agony since you disappeared. I’ll admit, I was mad as hell when I realized you were gone, but then I realized it was no one’s fault but my own,” he admitted. He met her eyes. “I wasn’t good to you. I wasn’t the man I said I was gonna be.”
Layla didn’t answer. She simply looked at him in silence and listened.
“I took you for granted. I didn’t see how good you were to me.” He hung his head. “And I was a coward of a man to hurt you the way I did. I know that. I see that now,” he added, raising his eyes to meet hers again. “I’m sorry, Layla. I’m so sorry. I really am.”
Layla’s eyes filled with tears at Jacob’s admission. They were words she’d never thought she’d hear. She never thought Jacob would admit to treating her badly or doing her wrong. Now, he was standing before her, with pain in his eyes, telling her he was sorry for what he’d done.
“Jacob…” she
began, but trailed off.
“I know what you must be thinkin’. I know this all sounds nice, but it doesn’t mean nothin’,” he interrupted. “But I’m gonna prove it to you.” He stepped closer, and for the first time in a long time, Layla didn’t feel the urge to get away. She stood still and let him approach.
“I’ve given it up, Layla. I’ve given up makin’ money the way I used to. Stealin’ from others,” he whispered. “I’ve got myself a real job at the mine and I’m doing real good there. I even got the boys to clean up their acts. I’m gonna do better, too. I’m gonna strike it rich the right way,” he insisted. “I’m gonna do all things the right way from now on.”
Layla’s brow knitted in confusion. “Who are you?” she muttered involuntarily. She covered her mouth with her hand at the sudden outburst.