by Jill Kemerer
He tried to reply, but nothing came out. Thinking of her leaving choked him up too much to say a word.
“What Belle said back there...” Raleigh concentrated on the cowboy hat he crushed in his hands. “I never thought of Ainsley that way, and I know she didn’t with me either.”
“I know.” Out of everything the man could have said, he was worried Marshall thought he’d been hitting on Ainsley? The idea was laughable. “You’re not like that. You’re honorable.”
“I’m surprised you’d say that.” Raleigh flushed and gave him a sheepish look.
“Why?” Marshall started to feel normal. And whatever had happened earlier had shifted his view of a few things, including his opinion of Raleigh. “I see how hard you work on the ranch. The way you look at Belle. You’re building something here. A family. A legacy.”
“Man, you’re making me feel even worse.” He slapped the hat against his thigh. “I owe you an apology.”
He was taken aback. Raleigh apologizing?
“I’ve given you a hard time for months. And I haven’t thanked you for stepping in with the little ones the way you did. I...I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I think I was jealous.”
“Jealous?” Marshall stood behind the other chair. “Of what?”
“Your relationship with Belle.”
He met his brother-in-law’s blue eyes, sincere and penitent, and he understood.
“Oh.”
“She relies on you. Depends on you. She knew you’d be great with the babies, and you were.”
Marshall swung the chair to the side and sat. “I wasn’t great with the babies, Raleigh. I was terrible.”
“Pshaw,” he scoffed. “You were something, Marshall. I was scared to even pick one up. Thought I’d break it. But you swung in there and held two at a time.”
“Well, until Ainsley arrived, I was a mess. She was the one who got them on the schedule and made order out of the chaos.”
That’s what Ainsley did—made order out of chaos—and he’d let her drive away. The beautiful woman with a heart as golden as her hair—she’d told him she loved him, and he hadn’t even told her he loved her back. What did that say about him?
Maybe she was right. Was he like his mother, ignoring reality because it was convenient?
“Belle’s not doing so good.” Raleigh bowed his head. “I know this is a lot to ask considering all the rotten things she said, but I was hoping you would talk to her. Ainsley’s right. If she doesn’t get professional help, I don’t know what will happen.”
Marshall sprang to his feet. Belle needed him. Even Raleigh admitted it now. Marshall looked at his brother-in-law, saw the anxiety eating him alive, and he sat back down.
Oh, God, tell me Ainsley wasn’t right. Am I like my mother? Looking the other way instead of doing what I should?
Shame spiraled through his core.
Dottie’s smiling face crowded out his thoughts. He’d been at Yearling for a few weeks before he’d tried to run away to rescue Belle. But Big Bob had caught him. And Dottie had nudged a plate of oatmeal cookies his way and patted his shoulder. “Listen, slick,” she’d said, “the good Lord sent you here for a reason.”
He’d ignored her, guilt gnawing him to death at the danger his sister was in. Then Dottie had said something she’d repeated many times over the years: “Honey, God’s got this.”
Raleigh thumped his knuckles on the table. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Marshall studied him. Really studied him. And he knew the right thing to do.
“Raleigh, she loves you. She married you. She looks at you like you’re chocolate frosting on a three-layer cake. You go talk to her. She’ll listen.”
“I don’t know, Marsh. I’ve never seen her like this.”
“I have.” Like shingles blowing off a roof, the beliefs he’d been clinging to flew away. “I’m sorry, Raleigh. I overstepped my bounds by moving here. It’s your place to be Belle’s rock, not mine. I hope you don’t think I undermined you on purpose. I didn’t.”
“What are you saying?” Raleigh’s face paled.
“I’m saying you’re her husband. Those are your babies. And you two will work it out.”
“Are you leaving?” He sounded panicked.
“I think I am.” Marshall nodded absentmindedly. “I’m not meant to be a cowboy. I’m going to pack a bag and stay with my friend Wade for a while.”
“But Belle will think she drove you away.”
He shrugged. “Maybe she needs to deal with the consequences this time. I love her. I’ll always be here for both of you and the children, but this pickle you two are in? I don’t belong in it.”
Raleigh nodded, his expression growing resolved. “You’re right. And Ainsley told me what I need to do. I’m getting Belle to the doctor. I’m hiring someone to help with the babies in the afternoons. And I’ll do my best to take care of them in the meantime.”
He stood and held out his hand.
Marshall shook it. “Call Clint or Nash if you’re struggling with the quads. Lexi and Amy would be more than happy to swing by for an hour or two.”
“I’ll do that.” Raleigh hesitated, then put his arms around him and gave him a big hug. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Anytime.”
Chapter Fifteen
“I miss smelling the gingerbread ornaments this year. I wish you would have brought them with you. It’s not the same.” Tara plugged in the Christmas tree lights in their apartment Saturday night. “Are you sure you won’t come with us?”
“No thanks. You guys have fun.” Ainsley didn’t glance up as she scrolled through Facebook. Nothing was the same. Just thinking about the gingerbread cookies abandoned in the backyard of her little cabin on Dushane Ranch made her want to cry.
But she wouldn’t.
Since arriving in Laramie a few days ago, she’d suppressed every tear. When Marshall came to mind, she blocked all thoughts of him. Busied herself by making lists and organizing her bedroom. But her room was as organized as it would ever be, and there were no lists left to make. Which left time—a yawning, endless chasm of time—on her hands.
“If you change your mind, we’ll be at Tony’s.” Tara waved and left.
Ainsley sighed, drawing the fluffy pink throw closer to her chin. She wished her new job had started. Then she’d have something to do with herself. And she wouldn’t keep thinking of the babies and wondering if Marshall was doing everything for them again. Had Belle apologized to him? And was Raleigh staying around to help, or had he escaped indefinitely to the stables?
You can’t keep doing this.
She forced herself off the couch and rummaged through the cupboards. Hot chocolate—the cure for too many thoughts. As she heated the water, she couldn’t help wondering what her dad was doing.
Was he in Wyoming still? Or had he headed up to Montana?
Was he okay?
The urge to check on him hit her hard. She braced her hands against the counter. Don’t get sucked into his drama again.
Her life was better now. Being away from his addiction had allowed her to grow strong. And it wasn’t as if she’d told him she never wanted to see him again. She’d simply left. She’d given him her information. He could have contacted her at any time. He’d chosen not to.
Because she’d ditched him.
Nice job, Ainsley. Way to cheer yourself up.
The microwave dinged, and she poured a cocoa packet into the mug of hot water. Returning to the living room, she stared blankly at the Christmas lights strung over the window and on the tree. She had no Christmas spirit. None. Zip.
Spotting her Bible on the end table, she reached for it. Flipped through. Leviticus? She grimaced. Not what she needed right now.
Lord, please lead me to the right verses. Show me Your comfort.
She turned to Zephaniah. Had she ever read Zephaniah? Did she want to?
Sighing, she started to close the Bible, but a word jumped out at her, and she opened it again, peering at the seventeenth verse of chapter three. “The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.”
She looked around. The Lord was with her. She was snug in her warm apartment. She had a job lined up for after the holidays. She was safe and had a really good friend in Tara.
What did she have to complain about? Not much.
She’d get over Marshall.
Someday.
God, I know I did the right thing. If I would have stayed, I would have been enabling Marshall, the way I did my dad. And I would have lost respect for him. I couldn’t take being treated like dirt by Belle anymore either. It’s better this way. Isn’t it?
She thought of all the meals Marshall had cooked for her. The way he loved the babies and dived in to help her with them whenever possible. The things he’d told her about his childhood. She understood why he was so blind about Belle. She’d been the same way about her father for most of her life.
But Marshall deserved better. He should be working at a job he loved. And if he wanted to help his sister, it should be appreciated by her, not expected.
Oh, God, please get through to him. Make him see he needs his own life. Please, help him break free from the chains of guilt tying him down.
Emotions clogged her throat. She tried to sip her hot chocolate, but couldn’t.
And, God, while I’m praying, please open Belle’s heart to admit she needs help. Guide her to be a wonderful mommy to the quadruplets. And kiss each one of them for me. Keep them strong and healthy.
There was another name calling out for her to pray over, but the thought of it was frightening. Her dad was so heavy on her heart. What if she prayed and God asked her to do something dangerous? If she prayed for her father, if she reached out to him, would she get drawn back into being his keeper?
Lord, it’s been so long. So terribly long since I’ve seen him. I don’t know what to do. Hug him for me and keep him safe.
Thinking of her father’s hugs ripped a tear from her eyes. When he was sober, he was so easy to love. But when he wasn’t? He was impossible.
There was no fighting the tears. They leaked out one by one.
I miss you, Dad.
She tried to think of all the Al-Anon sayings she’d memorized, but none of them made sense right now. She thought of Marshall, who couldn’t seem to move past the horror of the years he’d missed out on being with Belle and worrying about her. It made sense he was terrified of missing out on more.
Would she spend the rest of her life estranged from her father?
She didn’t want that. She wanted a happy medium—to communicate with her father without being responsible for him.
Jesus, if You could come down as a helpless baby and live a perfect life all the while knowing You would be crucified before rising from the dead for me, then I can forgive my father. Lord, I forgive him, and I’m asking You to forgive him, too. Forgive him for all the times he neglected me, yelled at me, let me down and stole from me. Forgive him for all of it.
Her heart squeezed and emotions burned. And something shifted inside her soul. Forgiving her father wasn’t the same as reverting back to their previous relationship. It was...freedom. If she never saw her father again, she’d be okay.
But...she wanted to see him.
Okay, Lord, I’ll try to find him tomorrow, but I’m trusting You to keep me safe. Don’t let me throw away my goals because I feel bad for Dad.
And what about Marshall? What was she supposed to do about him?
I know I’m asking for a lot, Lord, but I want so much for Marshall. I want him to be happy. And if he ever does break free from his addiction of protecting his sister, will You lead him back to me? I love him. I think we could be good together. He’s a strong man. He’d be a great father. And I miss him. Oh, how I miss him!
She lay back against the throw pillow and closed her eyes. She’d just keep praying. Maybe one of these days she’d wake up and her heart wouldn’t be broken and she wouldn’t keep wishing things had turned out differently.
* * *
“You sure you don’t mind me staying here another week?” Marshall sat on one of Wade’s buttery-soft leather couches in his enormous living room. A college basketball game played on the massive television.
“Stay as long as you want. It’s good to have you here.” Wade munched on a plate of nachos. “Sorry I wasn’t around the past couple of days.”
Marshall waved him off. “Don’t apologize. I know you’re busy.”
“I’ve got my eye on one of the biggest pieces of land in this area. Rumor has it the owner might sell next year.”
“Don’t you own half the state at this point?”
“Don’t I wish.” He laughed.
Marshall was glad Wade had finally returned to the ranch. After two days of moping, he was awfully tired of being alone with his thoughts. Especially since they kept going back to one person.
Ainsley.
He loved her. He loved her so much he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“So you gonna tell me what’s really going on with you or not?” Wade crunched a chip and leveled him with a stare.
“I told you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Belle’s depressed and you’re letting her and Raleigh work it out. But I’ve never seen you like this. There’s more to it.”
Marshall sighed. There was more to it. A lot more. But did he want to get into the ugly details? He’d sound like a fool. Because he was a fool.
He’d let Ainsley walk out of his life. He hadn’t told her he loved her.
“Well, there’s this girl.”
Wade lifted his eyebrows, stretched his legs out on the couch and popped another chip in his mouth. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“Ainsley. The baby nurse.”
“Okay, okay. What’s she look like?”
“Why?”
“So I can get a mental picture of her before I blow your socks off with my advice.”
Marshall glared at him.
“What?”
“Just eat your chips.”
“Fine. You never could take a joke. Tell me about her.”
“Well, from the minute I spotted her, I knew she was special...” Marshall went on about how she took charge with the babies and how patient she was with Belle. He filled Wade in on how close they’d gotten, and how Belle had flipped out on them both. “And the worst thing is, Wade, I blew it. She told me she loved me. Urged me to take the job Mr. Beatty offered me in Laramie. And you know what I did?”
Wade’s eyes filled with compassion. “Told her you had to stay to help Belle.”
“How did you know?” He sat back, dumbfounded.
“Because you’ve been doing it since the day we met.”
Marshall thought back on all the years since he was sent to Yearling Group Home, and his heart sank. How many events had he blown off with his best friends because he thought Belle might need him?
She hadn’t even needed him most of the time. He’d just been convinced she did.
“What changed?” Wade asked.
“What makes you think anything changed?”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re not with Belle.” He gave him a probing stare. “I didn’t know the Beatty brothers were expanding. You going to take the job?”
“I haven’t thought about it.”
Wade swung his legs over the couch and faced him. “You haven’t thought about it? Oh, man, you’re in love with this Ainsley chick.”
“I know.”
Wade’s eyes widened. “Well, what are you going to do about it?”
He shrugged. “What do you mean? I blew it. Game over.”
Wade shook his head. “You’ve got more guts than that. The Marshall I know would walk through fire for anyone he loved.”
He brightened, but slumped as quickly. “That was the old Marshall. The one obsessed with helping his sister whether she wanted it or not.”
“She wanted it. She loves you.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know. I feel lost. I’ve never...”
“Put yourself first before?”
Hearing Wade say it confirmed it was true. “Yeah.”
“Did you like your old job?” Wade asked.
“You know I loved it.”
“Then the first thing you should do is call Mr. Beatty and accept the job offer.”
Marshall nodded.
“As for the girl, if she told you she loved you, she probably hasn’t gotten over you in two days. Talk to her. Apologize. Tell her how you feel.”
“When did you become Oprah?” Marshall grinned.
“I prefer Dr. Phil.” He grinned back.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Marshall, do something for yourself for a change. You’re worth it.”
Ainsley’s words came back: “I’m worth more than that.” Marshall clasped his hand over his heart. She was worthy of first place. And he was worth more than putting himself second, too.
He wanted the job. He wanted to move to Laramie. And he wanted Ainsley in his life.
Now he just had to figure out how to convince her he’d changed, that he could be the man she deserved. He might have to convince himself of both, too. Lord, I know I’ve done a lot of things wrong, but I need You to help me make my life right. Will You help me?
For the first time in years, the underlying anxiety ticking inside him disappeared.
He was ready. Ready for the job. Ready for Ainsley.
* * *
“I’m sorry, Marsh.”
The relief flooding Marshall almost forced him to sit on the edge of his bed. Belle had finally called him. He hadn’t spoken to her since she’d thrown him out.
