by Renee Ryan
Bile rose in Hannah’s throat.
“Soon, Hannah darling,” Tyler said, completely unaware of her growing dismay. “We will make our move in a few weeks. For now, this is our secret adventure.”
Tyler smiled down at Rachel then, the look far too intimate for public viewing. Hannah’s stomach rolled over itself, and again she sensed that she was missing something important.
As though hearing her thoughts, Tyler abruptly released Rachel and took Hannah’s hands in his. She desperately wanted to pull free of his grip, but she refused to allow him to see her distress. Nevertheless, she found she couldn’t look at him, couldn’t force her eyes off the lapel of his jacket.
He’d once been a good friend, a surrogate brother of sorts and the son of her most trusted mentor. Their shared history alone had to be worth something. “What am I missing, Tyler? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Hannah, darling, don’t you understand?” Tyler gave her the kind of smile adults spared unruly children. “We are anonymous here. Free to do whatever we wish. No rules. Just Rachel and me. Together.”
Shocked at the lewd implications of his words, Hannah snatched her hands free. Men like Tyler were so predictable. She’d hoped for more from him.
He’d proven less.
“You mean share a room while remaining unwed,” she said, then placed her gaze deliberately on Rachel. “How could you do this again? Didn’t you learn anything from your disastrous affair with Mr. Beamer?”
There, she’d said it out loud. Perhaps now they could get to the heart of the matter.
Owl-eyed, Rachel’s expression turned blank, placid even. And she completely ignored the question. “Can’t you just be happy for me this one time?”
Happy? How could Rachel be so indifferent to all the people she was hurting by embarking on this indecent liaison with Tyler? How could she be so selfish?
Hannah opened her mouth to speak, but Tyler spoke over her.
“Happy doesn’t begin to describe my feelings when I am with you, my darling,” he said, pulling Rachel into an embrace more suitable for a brothel. “Blissful. Ecstatic. Delirious. Those are much better adjectives.”
Rachel touched his cheek, ran her finger along his jaw.
Tyler kissed her on the nose.
Hannah averted her eyes.
Their bold, public intimacy was disconcerting, something that shouldn’t be shared with anyone but each other.
With a loud hiss, Beau pushed abruptly from the wall. “Tyler! Enough. You can’t—”
“No.” Hannah stopped Beau’s approach with a hard shake of her head. “Let me finish this. Please. You’ll get your turn. For now, this is still my fight.”
His face constricted with barely controlled emotion. And with that hard look in his eyes, Hannah expected him to deny her request, but he gave her one sharp nod and stepped back.
“Rachel,” she said through her teeth. “You cannot share a room with a man you aren’t married to. It’s a sin.”
Rachel snuggled up against Tyler and rolled her eyes to heaven. “You are such a prude, Hannah. Father never did understand how different we are, and that he had us mixed up from the start.”
And here it was. The moment of truth. The reason Hannah had traveled all these miles. She struggled to hold on to her temper, but angry heat flushed into her cheeks. “Father never knew because you never told him.”
Rachel cast a dark look in her direction. “Did you?”
Hannah staggered back as if slapped. “I…You…”
“Did you?” Rachel said.
“No,” Hannah whispered, her heart dipping in her chest at the ugly realization of her own guilt.
Oh, Lord, forgive me. Forgive me. All this time, all these years, I’ve blamed Rachel for not speaking up. And resented her for it. But I never spoke up, either.
“No,” she repeated. “I didn’t say a word.”
“Then mind your own business now.”
Hannah’s heart beat wildly at the prospect of her impending defeat. She’d traveled all this way, and once again a man was proving more important to Rachel than her own sister. “You can’t hide like this forever.”
“I know that,” Rachel snapped.
“Good. Because I’m performing the marriage ceremony,” Beau said, pushing from the wall. “This very night.” His words were clipped, controlled and very, very angry.
Shocked at his forcefulness, Hannah swung around to stare at him. She drew slightly back at the intensity of emotion on his face. She’d never seen him that implacable, that righteously disgusted. And yet, his unbridled anger made him seem more vulnerable to her. Even as his eyes blazed with resolve, she knew he was ashamed and hurting.
Hannah understood his pain. Tyler had wounded him as only one sibling could hurt another. Deep at the core.
Clearing his expression, Beau stepped between Tyler and Rachel, sufficiently separating them with a hard shove at Tyler’s chest.
Tyler stumbled back, caught his balance and then took a menacing step forward.
“Stop right there.” Beau squared his shoulders. “Neither of you will leave this room until you are wed.”
“Is that so, brother?” Tyler spat, the first chink in his perfectly polished armor sounding in the sour tone of his voice.
“It will be done,” Beau reiterated.
The two men stared into each other’s eyes. The anger between them was palpable. Hannah feared they would come to blows any moment. With each beat of her heart, the standoff turned more intense, more angry and bitter, becoming a ruthless clash between brothers as old as Cain and Abel.
Eventually, Tyler lowered his head and sighed in defeat. “As you wish.”
Beau placed his hand on Tyler’s arm. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“I know.”
Recovering quickly, Tyler placed a careless grin on his lips. With a challenge in his eyes, he held Beau’s stare as he tugged Rachel into his arms once again.
“Rachel Southerland, will you marry me?” he asked, still glaring at Beau as he spoke. Eventually, he dropped his gaze to Rachel and cocked his head at a jaunty angle. “Will you be my wife, in name now as well as in deed? Will you—”
Beau cleared his throat, cutting off the rest of whatever improper request Tyler had been about to ask of her.
Hannah whispered a silent prayer of thanks that at least one O’Toole sibling was a gentleman.
Giggling, Rachel trailed a finger down Tyler’s cheek. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to make it official.”
Hannah gasped. The realization of what marriage between the two would mean was finally sinking in. “Wait. What about Will? What about Father?”
Rachel flicked a speck of dust off Tyler’s shoulder. “What about them?”
“You must tell them of your marriage to Tyler. They deserve to hear it from you.”
“Me? No.” She slid Hannah a bitter glare from under her lashes. “You tell them. Save the day like always. It’s what you live for.”
At Rachel’s feral glance, Hannah’s lips parted in shock. She’d never seen such revulsion in her sister’s eyes before. “You must tell them yourself,” Hannah insisted, but her voice shook at the realization she was losing the fight.
In response, Rachel twisted on her heels, lifted her chin in the air and turned her deaf ear toward Hannah.
With that one gesture the battle was complete.
Rachel had made up her mind. There would be no reasoning with her now. She had literally shut Hannah out.
Hannah shouldn’t have been surprised. She shouldn’t feel this devastating sense of defeat, this…hurt.
This was their pattern, after all. She had been naive to think anything would change between Rachel and her.
Hannah slowly set her hands on Rachel’s shoulders and turned her sister to face her directly. “Write one letter to Father and another to your fiancé. I’ll deliver them personally,” she said with little expression in her voice. She turned to Beau. “It’s t
he only way now.”
He gave her an understanding nod.
Perhaps this had been part of God’s plan for Hannah all along. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.
Hannah had lied all her life. But now she would make restitution. She would confess her sin to the one person she’d offended most. Her father.
“You won’t face Reverend Southerland alone,” Beau declared, closing his hand over hers in perfect understanding of the situation. “I won’t allow it.”
Even in her devastated state, Hannah felt a smile tug at her lips. For once, this man’s arrogance brought her comfort. And a unique sense of safety. Beauregard O’Toole was a good man. By accepting his generous offer, she would make her own bold statement. Would he understand?
“I would consider myself fortunate, fortunate indeed, to have you stand by my side,” she said.
Rachel snorted, ruining the moment. “Hannah? You? Traveling alone with a man? I’m shocked.”
Hannah’s entire body wanted to tremble again, but she would not give in to her anger now. “I have a chaperone.”
Rachel rolled her gaze to the ceiling, looking as though Hannah’s sense of propriety was anything but. “Of course you do.”
Beau touched her arm. Needing his strength, she turned to him. His eyes crinkled at the edges, and he gave her hand an encouraging squeeze. “It’ll be over soon. I promise.”
Perhaps this wasn’t the ending Hannah had hoped for when she’d set out in search of Rachel and Tyler. But a sense of peace filled her at the prospect of her imminent confession.
This was the right course of action. The web of lies would be broken at last.
Chapter Sixteen
An hour later, Beau completed the marriage ceremony with very little pomp. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
He didn’t bother telling Tyler to kiss the bride. The two had certainly done enough of that prior to the exchange of vows. Regardless of how uncomfortable it made Hannah or Beau—or anyone else, for that matter.
In truth, Beau had never met two more selfish people in his life. He didn’t think either was inherently evil, just unaware of the pain they were causing others as they pursued their own ends. They were like children, entitled children who hadn’t been told “no” enough. Or, rather, hadn’t suffered the consequences of “no” enough.
Watching them now, with their heads bent toward one another, Beau didn’t doubt they would be happy together—their love was easy enough to see—but now others would be hurt.
Hannah most of all.
Beau glanced over at her. She stood rigid, her shoulders stiff. She looked more fragile than the first time they’d met, more wounded. His heart weighed heavy in his chest because he knew there was nothing he could do for her now. Informing the venerable Thomas Southerland that his favorite daughter had run off and married an actor would not be an easy task.
Beau gulped back his rising concern, but only succeeded in wedging the lump of dread deeper in his chest. He walked over to Hannah and asked, “How are you faring?”
She lifted a shoulder, sighed. Her eyes held all the pain he knew she must be feeling. He’d seen the look of betrayal often enough to realize he was staring at it now.
That enigmatic blend of melancholy and defeat mocked him. He was a minister with no tools to erase her sorrow. He had a fierce, primitive need to rush her out of the room and fight off anyone who so much as looked at her oddly.
“What will I tell him?” she asked in a shaky breath. “And Will. Oh, poor Will.”
Beau took her hand and threaded her fingers through his. He remembered her advice back at Charity House when he’d worried in a similar manner over Megan. “The Holy Spirit will give you the right words at the right time.”
She turned large, round eyes toward him. Clearly, his words hadn’t settled her nerves. Well, there was one worry he could remove. “I promise you this, Hannah, you aren’t alone anymore. I will share this burden with you.”
He knew he was pledging more than a solid presence during a hard conversation. By standing with her, by confronting Reverend Southerland, he would be jeopardizing his future with the Rocky Mountain Association. And yet, he didn’t care as much as he should.
Hannah needed him. That was all that mattered at the moment.
There would be time to sort through what that meant to his future and his future ministry. He had to trust that God would provide, as the Heavenly Father always did.
“Oh, Beau.” Tears wiggled along her eyelashes. She looked both relieved and bemused by his declaration. “Are you certain?”
His answer came without hesitation. “Yes.”
“What if my father—”
“It doesn’t matter.” And he meant his words.
The risk to his future didn’t matter anymore. He’d done the right thing by marrying Tyler and Rachel. Even if Reverend Southerland considered Beau the most culpable party for having officiated at the ceremony.
He had no regrets. “Hannah, fear not, we’re in this together now.”
She smiled then. And, oh, what a smile. It was the one that grabbed at his heart and twisted.
“You aren’t going to relent on this, are you?” she asked.
“I treated you abominably the first time we met.” He lifted her hand to his lips, forced himself not to linger. “Think of this as my way of saying I’m sorry.”
“You don’t owe me—”
“Yes, I do.” He dropped her hand. “I cannot be swayed in my decision. You are stuck with me now.”
Her smile turned watery, and Beau’s heart dipped in his chest. He would have said more, but Hannah’s twin shoved him out of the way with a nudge of her hip.
Eyes gleaming with female satisfaction, Rachel kissed Hannah on the cheek. “Be happy for me.”
Hannah blinked, a contradictory look of pain and hope flashing in her gaze. Beau understood the conflicting emotions all too well. As angry as he felt toward Tyler, the man was still his brother.
Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t confront him. Alone. Now was as good a time as any. Before leaving the two to their conversation, Beau whispered in Hannah’s ear that he would be close by.
She offered him a sweet smile and then turned her attention back to her sister. Beau motioned to Tyler to meet him on the other side of the room.
Tyler joined him and boomed out a laugh. “I’d say we’re both fortunate in our choice of women. What say you, brother?”
Beau stiffened, fearing where this conversation was leading. He would not allow Tyler to sully his feelings for Hannah. They were private and pure and not up for discussion with his brother. “Say nothing more, Tyler.”
Unaware of Beau’s growing frustration, Tyler slapped him on the back. “There’s something about those Southerland women, eh?”
Beau tensed like a tightened coil. “Don’t.”
“Perfect matches. Rachel and me.” Tyler wiggled his eyebrows. “You and Hannah.”
Tyler often surprised Beau with his perception. But there were times—times such as this one—when his brother used his unexpected insight to rile Beau. Beau, however, would not give him the satisfaction of taking the bait. And he certainly wouldn’t discuss his feelings for Hannah with a man who had no sense of decency when it came to relations between men and women. “What you did was wrong, Tyler. Fornication is a sin. Worse, Rachel was engaged.”
“Please, Beau.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “If she wasn’t married, she was fair game.”
Shocked at his brother’s callousness, Beau stared at Tyler with new eyes. Throughout their childhood, things had come easy for Tyler. His charm had been present from the start. And he’d learned to use the O’Toole good looks to full advantage. Never had Tyler been reined in. Well, certainly not enough. The youngest of five siblings, he’d been doted on by everyone. Beau included.
Was this egocentricity and self-centeredness the byproduct of that indulgence?
“Tyler, this tim
e what you’ve done has hurt people.” Beau looked at Hannah and took note of her tenuous expression as she spoke softly with her sister. His heart ached for her.
As always, Tyler homed in on the wrong portion of Beau’s argument. “This time? Are you saying I’m irresponsible by nature?”
“Yes, I am.” Beau raised his hands to ward off Tyler’s arguments. “Don’t misunderstand. I love you. I always will. But life has been too easy for you.”
Tyler narrowed his eyes to tiny slits. “And you hold it against me, is that it?”
“No.”
Tyler continued to study him. “Yes, you do.” He snorted. “But you’re wrong.”
Beau lifted his eyebrows but didn’t respond. Tyler was being sarcastic, at any rate. It was part of his makeup, as much a part of him as the practiced smile and theatrical gestures.
“I wasn’t born with natural acting talent like you, Beau. I’ve spent my life honing and practicing. While you—” Tyler pointed an accusing finger at him “—were born with the most natural talent of us all. Did you choose to pursue it? No. You went into the ministry.”
Tyler’s expression was a perfect mask of outrage, but there was a great deal more going on behind those eyes. Mostly resentment. And jealousy.
Beau held the odd stare for a long moment. “I chose to follow God’s calling for my life,” he said with conviction. “How is that wrong?”
“It’s not, but you hold your family’s profession against us every time you fail.”
Beau had no intention of leaving that foul statement alone. “Now there you are wrong.”
“Am I?” Tyler crossed his arms over his chest and gave Beau a haughty look. “What about when you got kicked out of the church in Laramie? You said it was because of us, because of the scandalous nature of your family’s profession. Scotts Bluff, the same excuse. Kearney, again, the same. You were chased out of those churches, according to you, because of your family.”
An ache squeezed around Beau’s heart. “It’s true.”
“No.”
Beau’s head snapped up at the hostility in that one word.
