The woman he loved was married.
Why hadn’t he acted sooner? Tried again to reason with her stubborn father?
He’d gone to check on his patients two days ago—to tell Carina he loved her, but she was already gone. Gone with William Dean. Reed clamped down on his back teeth. Hadn’t she known his heart? Why had she been in such a hurry to marry?
She must have had feelings for Will. That was the only answer he could come up with.
“Come, now. We must greet our guests.”
He clung to the window ledge. Help me get through this night, Lord. Then help me through tomorrow. And the next day. My heart is empty. Deflated.
His mother tugged on his arm. “Come. You’re the host tonight.”
He hung his head. “I can’t. Go without me.”
She raised her arms, cupping his cheeks with her warm hands. “Look at me, Reed.”
He managed to do as she asked, but even that took effort.
“Now, listen to me. You have to trust God. You can’t give up.”
“I don’t know how to go on without her. She was the brave one. The one with heart.”
“What you say about Carina is true, but don’t cut yourself short. You’re a talented, godly man with a heart of gold. God has plans for you, but if you wallow in self-pity, you’ll be worthless to Him.” She gave him a gentle shake. “You’ve got to trust Him. Do you understand?”
He closed his eyes, letting the truth of her words soak in. Since he had lost Carina, he’d all but walked away from God. His hurt had kept him away. I’m sorry, Father. Please forgive me. Strengthen me. “I hear you, Mother.”
“Good, and it’s Mama. Now let’s go.”
❧
She didn’t want to come, but William had insisted—been quietly adamant and unrelenting—so unlike him.
How could she face Reed? Face all the others who had to be whispering about her. And what if Johan and Millie came? Surely Susan wouldn’t have invited them, and yet they were her neighbors now.
She’d dawdled so long that they’d missed the meal, but she didn’t care. That just meant less time at Reed Springs. She stood against one wall, attempting to hide behind a trio of plants. She had only seen Reed a time or two when he passed by dancing with a pretty woman, but each time it had been a different woman. Did he ever think of her these days?
The fast-paced music of the Cally polka slowed and the musicians shifted to a slower-paced waltz. That was one more dance completed. A few more minutes until they could leave.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but could I have this dance?”
Reed. Carina sucked in a sharp breath, afraid to move. How could she say yes? How could she touch him? Be so close as to feel his breath on her cheek? To look into his eyes? She kept her head down and shook it. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Why, would your husband object?”
The bitterness in his voice drew up her head. “Husband?”
Reed’s gaze hardened to a smoky blue. “Will’s not here tonight? Surely you didn’t come without an escort. Why, that would be as scandalous as riding a horse astride.”
Why was he deliberately trying to provoke her? “I—”
She couldn’t stand there and not touch him. Not see the fire ignite in his gaze when he looked at her. This Reed Bishop was not a man she knew. Pivoting sideways, she darted between two of the plants and raced outside. Unlike the last dreadful ball she’d attended, this one took place on the second floor of the Reed home. She ran onto the piazza and found herself trapped with no place to go. At least she didn’t have to look at him. She gazed out on the beautiful garden below. The azaleas flamed bright pink, red, and white, while a myriad of other flowers turned their faces to the sun that would soon be setting.
Her heart pounded at the deliberate footsteps slowly coming her way. What did he want her to say? That she was sorry for what her fader had said to him? He had no idea how truly sorry she was.
He blew out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, Carina. I so wanted things to be different.”
She blinked her eyes, trying hard to keep from crying. Her throat ached. What torture this was.
“Have you nothing to say?”
From the corner of her eye, she saw him rub the arm that had been wounded in the duel. At that moment she realized how she’d wronged him. “I’m so sorry, Reed.”
“For what?”
She had to look at him when she apologized. She owed him that much. Lifting her gaze to his, her heart clenched. There was so much pain it nearly buckled her knees. “I’m sorry for blaming you for Johan’s death. I’m sure you’ve heard by now that he’s alive and well and living at Tanglewood.”
“Yes, I did, but I don’t know whether to congratulate you or offer condolences.”
She had to smile at that. “Considering all that’s happened, I’d say condolences is probably the correct choice.”
His hands lifted to her upper arms. The light breeze lifted his hair then dropped it. “What did happen?”
“What have you heard?”
“Not much. When I rode over to check on Abel, he was the only one I saw, and he didn’t say much. Just that nothing was the same with you gone.”
Her lower lip quivered. “I miss them all so much.” She lost the battle against her tears.
His gaze softened. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He lifted his thumbs, and ever so softly wiped her tears with them.
The music drifted out the open doors, as if calling them to take part. Reed’s finger slid up her temple and lifted her hair, revealing the row of sutures. “I need to come by and take those out, probably this week. Do you think your husband would mind?”
Hadn’t he said that before? “I don’t have a husband.”
His hand stilled, as did his breathing. His eyes dropped to hers. “What about Will?”
She shook her head. “We aren’t married yet.”
“But you’re living at his place.”
“But I’m not living with him.”
Reed stepped closer. “Then where?”
She ducked her head. Will had agreed only as long as she didn’t tell anyone, but she couldn’t hurt Reed further by lying to him. She shrugged and offered a weak smile. “He fixed up one of the old slave cabins on his farm. He doesn’t own any slaves, so I have the whole place to myself.”
Reed closed his eyes as if the thought pained him, but the next words out of his mouth shocked her. “Thank You, Lord!”
She pulled away. “You’re happy I’m living like a slave? Not that it’s all that bad where I am.”
He instantly sobered. “No, I’m not happy about that at all. Why are you living there?”
“You’re serious. You really don’t know?”
He shook his head. “I rode over to Tanglewood, ready to defy your father and to confess how much I love you, but Johan said that you had married Will Dean. I can’t really tell you what happened after that. All I knew was I’d lost you.”
Carina held her breath. Dare she believe it possible? “Do you really? Love me?”
He cupped her cheeks and touched her forehead to his. “With all my heart. Don’t marry Will. Please, Carina. I don’t know how to go on with my life if you’re not in it, by my side. I need your strength.”
She sucked back a sob and fell into his arms. Abel had been right when he’d told her to trust God to work things out. Carina felt as if she’d finally come home. Home in Reed Bishop’s arms. He pulled back and gazed on her face, all the love he felt flowing from his amazing eyes—eyes she hoped their children would one day have.
He leaned down, touching his lips to hers, sealing his pledge of love.
A woman cleared her throat, and Carina jumped back from Reed.
“Mother?”
“I see you two have reconciled things.” Susan smiled. “Are you having a good time?”
Carina glanced at Reed, whose ears had flamed as red as her heart.
“Yes, Mother, we’re having a fabulous time.�
�
“Wonderful. I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Dean has returned home.”
Reed blinked. “What do you mean?”
Susan’s head lifted, a smug smile on her pretty face. “He and I had a discussion the other day when I delivered the gown to Carina. I let him know that she was spoken for, even if she didn’t know it yet.”
“Mother!”
If Carina had any doubts that Reed knew of his mother’s talk with Will, the forcefulness in the single word drove it away.
Susan held up her palm, as if to silence her son. “You may thank me later, Reed. Right now a certain young lady awaits your attention.” She turned back to the door.
“Mother!”
Glancing over her shoulder, she tossed them a satisfied grin.
“It’s Mama—to both of you.”
About the Author
Vickie McDonough believes God is the ultimate designer of romance. She is a wife of thirty-six years, mother to four grown sons, and a doting grandma. When not writing, she enjoys reading, watching movies, and traveling. Visit Vickie’s website at www.vickiemcdonough.com.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to Barbour and the staff who work there. I wouldn’t have a writing career if not for Barbour, and I will always be grateful to Becky Germany for buying that first novella and the ones that followed and then later for acquiring my first trade fiction series. Thank you, Tracie Peterson, for seeing something good in my writing and purchasing my first four Heartsong books and to Joanne Simmons for buying the next seven. Thanks also to the folks behind the scenes who work so diligently to put out a good product.
A note from the Author:
I love to hear from my readers! You may correspond with me by writing:
Vickie McDonough
Author Relations
PO Box 721
Uhrichsville, OH 44683
Dueling Hearts Page 15
