Saffron took in a sharp breath. “It’s true that I’ve not had children yet, and that I’ve not been personally responsible for other people’s lives. I admire that you’ve taken on the responsibility for your family after your parents passed, but they also have lives of their own. They have things they need to learn themselves. It can’t be all your responsibility.”
He looked quickly over at her. He’d had no idea that this would be so painful, that while trying to protect his family, he’d have to confess that yes, it was now and always would be his responsibility to keep them safe. He’d failed once before and wouldn’t again.
He crossed the porch to the swing and sat down. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I will tell you that it’s not something that I can change.”
She sat down beside him again, and the heat of her hand warmed him as she placed it on his arm. “Adam, would you please tell me why you feel so strongly about this? I understand that she needs help, but she also is a wonderful, interesting, capable young woman. She wants to have more opportunity to learn on her own, and I’m willing to show her. What could be wrong with that?”
“Nothing. And Everything,” he said as he dropped his head into his hands.
“Adam, I don’t understand. Your efforts to keep her away from danger is also keeping her away from life. You have no right to do that.”
He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he ran his hands through his hair. He’d run through his mind just what to say, but now that she was sitting beside him, so lovely, he found getting the words out more difficult than he’d imagined.
“I have every right. In fact, I promised my father as he was dying that I would.”
Saffron’s eyebrows rose and she sat up straight on the swing. “Please, Adam, tell me what happened. I’ve wanted to know for so long. Why do you feel so protective, and personally responsible for Carol’s injury?”
He walked to the porch rail and leaned against it as he let out a deep breath. He shielded his eyes against the sun, looking out past the shade tree to the hills and cactus beyond before he turned and met her gaze.
“Because I am.”
“Oh, Adam, that can’t possibly be true. Accidents happen, and—”
He turned from the railing and held his hands up toward Saffron to stop her. “Please. I know it to be true. No amount of arguing can change the facts, Saffron.”
She sat back and waited for him to continue, taking cold comfort that now she might hear the story of the accident, but that it might be too late to help Carol.
Adam sat on the steps of the porch and leaned back against the post, looking out at the horizon. “I told you that my mother died when I was young, and that my father married Victoria when Carol and I were still young, in school. Although I miss my mother, we loved Victoria and thought of her as our mother by that time.”
Saffron nodded, encouraging him to continue.
“I had been on a big job across state lines and was due back to be with Carol, Andy and Luke while Pa and Victoria left for Chicago. I was delayed and sent word, thinking that it would only be a day.”
“I don’t see how that would cause—”
Adam turned his clouded eyes to Saffron. This woman in front of him, so caring and beautiful, wasn’t going to make this easy for him. “If you want to hear the story, you need to let me tell it. I’ve never said it before and don’t plan to again.”
She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. “I’m sorry.”
He rested his elbows on his knees and looked down at his boots. “Pa had a meeting he had to get to, and when one day turned into two, he asked some friends to take care of Luke and Andy, but Carol wasn’t able to stay there and she had to go with Pa and Victoria. She was on that train when it went off the rails and it was because of me that she was hurt.”
“Oh, Adam. No,” Saffron said as she stood and crossed the porch, sitting beside him on the steps.
Saffron looked as if all the air on the porch had disappeared, and she struggled to breathe. She reached out and took his hand, holding it between her two. “Adam, this wasn’t your fault.”
Adam stood, pulling her up with him. He cleared his throat and pushed his hat back on his head. “I don’t expect you to understand, Saffron. It was my fault, and it’s been my vow to keep Carol and the boys safe ever since”
She moved toward him, and it was all he could do not to gather her in his arms, take comfort in her warm embrace. If anyone would ever understand, it would be her.
Instead, he too a step backward, firm in his resolve. “I’ve made my decision, Saffron. I made my promise to Pa and I aim to keep it. I can’t allow you to come and see Carol anymore.”
Chapter 32
Adam stood on the porch until all the dust had settled in the drive after Saffron departed. His gut ached and he lowered his head as he leaned on the porch railing, wishing it could be different. Could have ended differently.
He took in a deep breath and turned toward the house. He’d told Saffron she couldn’t return to spend time with Carol, and now came the hard part—telling Carol herself. He was prepared for her not to understand, but he knew it was for her own good.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the lace curtain in the parlor window fall and he cursed himself. The window was open, and he’d forgotten all about it. He hoped Carol hadn’t been listening, but if she had—well, it was done, then. He’d never told her that he held himself responsible for the accident, but if she knew, maybe then she’d understand a little better why Saffron couldn’t return.
He walked into the parlor and rolled up his sleeves. Carol sat on the settee and looked out the window, her eyes red. Charlie sat in his cage beside her, chirping and fluttering his wings, but Carol kept her gaze on the horizon.
“Adam, you can’t do that to her. To me. To all of us.”
The sadness in her voice tugged at his heart. He turned toward her and his head fell into his hands as he saw the sparkle of a tear in her eye.
“You heard.” Adam sat beside her and reached for her hand. She allowed him to take it, and relief flooded through him as she squeezed his in return.
She turned her red-rimmed eyes toward him and gave him a sad smile. “Yes, I did. Everything.”
“Are you all right?” he said softly as he brushed a lock of her blonde hair away from her forehead.
She patted his hand then dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. “I believe I am, Adam. Finally, for the first time since Papa and Victoria died.”
Adam sat up and pulled his hand away. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. He’d been prepared to mop up tears, deflect disappointment, but not anger and resolve.
“As I listened, I remembered more about the accident. The events prior, to be exact. I know it wasn’t planned for me to accompany Papa and Victoria, but while you were gone, I’d decided to whether or not you came home. There wasn’t anything you could have done to stop me. I wanted to see Chicago, and I was going to. No two ways about it.”
“What do you mean?” Adam said, his eyes wide. “You were never to go. You only went because I was late and—”
“Think about it, Adam. Andy and Luke had been sent to stay with the Buchanans for a couple of nights. They were good enough friends to Papa that I could have gone, too. Don’t you see that had I not seen it as my opportunity to beg Papa to take me with him that I would have done that?”
Adam fell back onto the settee and rubbed his hands through his hair. Carol hadn’t remembered any of that when the accident happened. To be honest, it hadn’t crossed his mind for one second that Carol had wanted to go to Chicago.
“Carol, you never wanted to travel. Never wanted to go much of anywhere. You never mentioned you wanted to accompany Papa to Chicago. Why all of a sudden did you want to go then? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Color crept into Carol’s cheeks. “I didn’t remember until just now, when I relived the accident as you described it to Saffron.�
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“So my delay didn’t force you to go with them, then?”
She shook her head and her blush traveled down her neck. “No, and I also remembered why I wanted to go as you were speaking. I can hardly believe it myself, but I imagine I didn’t want to tell you to avoid any merciless teasing I may have gotten had you found out.”
Charlie’s cheeps grew louder and Adam moved the cage a bit further away, setting it on the end table beside the settee. “Settle down there, boy,” he said as Carol looked past him at the little bird and smiled.
“Do you remember Papa talking about his old friend from the war, Mr. Price?”
Adam rubbed his chin. “I think so. Had kids our age...a son named Dennis...oh!” His eyes grew wide as Carol dropped her gaze. It had never occurred to him that his little sister—well, grown sister—had thought about those things. What a dunce he was.
“We’d been corresponding, but I hadn’t told anyone but Papa. When you couldn’t return on time to stay with us, I begged for him to take me so that Dennis and I could meet in person. He’d planned to come the following spring, but I thought if I had the opportunity to go early, I...”
Adam stood, his head spinning. He’d had no idea. To that day, he’d thought that Carol had been forced to accompany his parents, and that her injury had been his fault.
He leaned against the mantle and regarded his sister. She was quite lovely, really, her blonde hair framing a heart-shaped face, her eyes as icy blue as his own. How had it not occurred to him that she’d want—no, have a suitor?
He sat back down beside her on the settee. “And after? When he found out about the accident?”
She looked up quickly, then turned her gaze back to the horizon. “As you know, for quite some time I was bedridden. I thought I would be forever and didn’t want him to be saddled with such a burden.”
“Carol, it’s not—”
She reached up and placed her fingers on his lips. “Adam, you must be honest. It is, in fact, a burden. I didn’t want a man I loved to be shouldered with this for the rest of his life. And I don’t want you to be, either. I want to be as self-sufficient as I can be. Take care of myself as best I can.”
“Please, don’t feel that way. I’m happy to look after you.”
Adam’s heart lurched when she laughed, her eyes twinkling.
“Don’t misunderstand me, Adam. This is not a statement of self-pity. Yes, I released Dennis as I thought it was best at the time. But now that I know the truth, I have no intention of living my life inside these four walls.”
His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to understand what she was telling him. “The truth?”
Carol reached past him and brought the cage with the busy, chirping Charlie to her lap. “I must say, although I’m horrified that you have taken all responsibility for the accident on yourself—at least where my injuries are concerned—I am grateful that there’s an explanation for your overbearing protectiveness.”
“Overbearing? I—”
“Hear me out, Adam. I love you dearly and will be forever grateful for your sweet concern as I’ve found my way again. But I’m not a china doll. Saffron was right to take me to the circus. And she was right that if you’d asked me, I would say the bump on my head was worth every second of joy I felt amidst the people, the animals—life.”
She reached up and drew back the lace curtains, the warm breeze blowing her hair around her face. She smiled as she lifted up the cage and held it over the window sill, reaching around the front to open the small door.
“Carol, no. He’s happy here with you. He’s still injured. He’ll hurt himself again.”
Carol laughed as Charlie hopped to the edge of the cage and tentatively onto the ledge of the small door. He didn’t hesitate one more second as he jumped off the cage and flew up into the big shade tree in front of the house.
“He will be fine, Adam. I can’t keep him here forever. It’s not where he belongs,” Carol said slowly before she turned and met her brother’s eyes.
Adam watched as the bird hopped from branch to branch before taking flight, his red breast disappearing over the rooftop of the house down the road.
Could he have been wrong? Was he doing Carol more harm than good as he’d tried to keep her out of danger? Had Saffron been right all along? He admired this strong young woman sitting before him, and wondered how he’d make this right.
Chapter 33
Just the thought of never seeing Carol again, or the boys—or Adam—had Saffron’s stomach in knots. His explanation about not having looked after Carol during his parents’ trip and it resulting in him feeling responsible for her injury had ripped at her heart.
He was so utterly and completely wrong. How could he have known that they would all have suffered such a tragic end when he agreed to stay another night at the ranch he’d been tending? There was no way to know they’d all be in an accident any more than she could have known that the Widow Samson would charge at Carol and her chair with wheels would topple.
Her heart ached at the pain she’d seen in his eyes as he spoke. At the burden he’d been carrying for so long. She’d done her best to try to console, comfort, but no matter how she’d tried to reason with him, her rational explanation had fallen on deaf ears.
His decision had been final. And the worst part of the whole mess was that she’d cared not only for Carol and the boys, but for him, too, in a way she’d never imagined possible. His broad shoulders and kind—if a bit overbearing—concern had captured her heart and she hadn’t known how much until this very moment. And now it was too late.
And since he’d made it very clear how he felt about her and that he never wanted to see her again, she might as well put her efforts into helping Carol. Such a kind, sweet, fun and full-of-life person didn’t deserve to be kept behind closed doors, no matter what the Widow Samson—or Adam—said, not for a good reason or a bad one.
He might choose to stay in his own hellish guilt, but she wouldn’t let Carol be a casualty to it. There had to be some way to release her from her bonds, the ones his burden had created, a prisoner of his guilt.
She’d almost passed the mercantile when she remembered Maria had asked for some apples. She dared not forget again. She threw the reins lightly over the post and climbed the stairs to the boardwalk.
“Oh, Saffron, how are you?” Suzanne said as she came out from behind the long counter. “We’ve all been worried. About you, Carol—everybody.”
Saffron handed Suzanne the empty basket. “I need a dozen apples if you have them, Suzanne.”
Suzanne’s eyebrows rose, and Saffron wondered if it was obvious she’d been crying.
“Goodness, Saffron. What’s happened to make you cry? What’s the matter?”
Saffron crumpled in the chair in Suzanne’s office, her face in her hands. “I made a terrible mistake. Adam is furious that I took Carol and the boys to the circus.”
Suzanne blanched. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I think I gave him quite the fright. He stopped in to pick up a pie and I mentioned there had been a ruckus. I thought he knew, honestly, before I said anything.”
Saffron sighed. “It’s all right, Suzanne. He was bound to find out sometime. I don’t know why, but I never thought he’d be that unreasonable. Never.”
“What do you mean?” Suzanne said as she crossed over to the barrel and filled Saffron’s basket with green, shiny apples.
“He said that I’d risked her life and he couldn’t allow it. And that I was no longer welcome to come and sit with her.”
“What?” gasped Rose as she walked up behind Suzanne. “That’s absurd. You and Carol have become friends, and she relies on your visits. That’s completely unacceptable. The girl needs friends. Needs to be out in the world. Just like anybody else.”
Saffron hugged her sister, resting her head for a moment on her familiar, comfortable shoulder.
“I know. It’s true. But he was adamant that it was better for Carol. I don’t actually know what to do ab
out it.”
Suzanne handed Saffron the basket full of apples. “I’ll put these on your tab, Saffron.”
“We’d leave it off your tab if you bring in some empanadas that you make with them,” James said from inside the office.
Saffron smiled and she nodded at Suzanne as she and Rose headed for the door. “I’ll bring some either way, James. Goodbye, Suzanne, and thanks.”
“Good luck with Carol and the boys, Saffron. I’m sure something will make it right.”
“Isn’t there some way she could work? Do something interesting in town? Even meaningful?”
Rose tapped her finger on her chin. “You know, we had a school committee meeting last night and even that horrid Widow Samson agreed that we need some help cataloguing and organizing the books.”
“I thought the library was separate from the schoolhouse? Papa’s gathered most of the donations and Mrs. Carter and the mayor were on that board, too.”
Saffron and Rose left the Mercantile and stepped out onto the boardwalk, the bustle of buggies, horses and pedestrians a welcome distraction.
“You know, Saffron, wouldn’t it be marvelous if Carol could work at the library?” Rose took Saffron’s elbow and led her toward the Occidental. “She could come anytime she wanted to. We have so many books that need to be catalogued. It would be a perfect job for her she could see new people all the time.”
Saffron stiffened as Mrs. Samson and her crony, Mrs. Claiborne, approached, their heels clicking in time on the wooden planks. Her eyes grew wide as Mrs. Samson stopped directly behind Rose, Mrs. Claiborne bumping into her and bouncing backwards on the boardwalk.
“I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing, Mrs. Tate,” Mrs. Samson said as the black feathers bounced while she shook her finger at Rose. “Certainly you don’t expect any of the board members of the library to approve such a ridiculous idea.” Mrs. Samson’s lips curled and her nose wrinkled as she looked from Saffron to Rose.
Saffron: A Sweet Western Historical Romance (Brides of Archer Ranch Book 1) Page 13
