by Naomi Niles
"Okay," I smiled up at him. His blue eyes had become cold and hard as ice. I was surprised by how much my leaving had touched him. We really had grown close this past month. So why did I suddenly feel like I was with a stranger?
Chapter Twenty-six: Colton
"Bethany!" I ran into the house, shouting out her name. Mama stepped out of the kitchen with a dishtowel in her hands. I grabbed her by the shoulders and cried out "Have you seen Bethany? I have to talk to her."
"Settle down. She's gone," Mama said.
"You don't mean she's left already?" I felt panicked.
"No. Nothing like that." She tucked a lock of her hair behind her left ear and walked back to the kitchen. I followed her, desperate for more information.
Mama had a pile of potatoes on the counter, and returned to peeling them, talking as she worked. She said, "I went up to Bethany's room to ask if she wanted to help with dinner. All her things are packed, with her bags lined up neatly by the door. She hasn't left yet, but she's not in her room, either. She must be out on the ranch somewhere, saying her goodbyes."
"Thank God," I sighed with relief, and Mama gave me a smack on the back of the head.
"What did I tell you about taking the Lord's name in vain?"
"I'm not swearing, Mama. That was a prayer. I'm asking God not to let her go before I can talk to her."
"Well, if it's the Lord's will, it will be done. Now what's all this about?" Mama asked. Then her eyes grew wide and she asked with a gasp, "Are you going to ask her to marry you?"
I didn't answer, and Mama started smacking me with her dish towel and jumping and down with happy excitement. "You are! I know you are!"
Catching the towel in my hands before she could do any more damage with it, I set it on the dining room table and forced Mama to sit in one of the kitchen chairs. Speaking calmly, I said, "No, Mama. I'm not."
"Why not? Everybody can see you two are perfect for each other."
I wasn't about to tell Mama I was going to ask Bethany if I could go with her to the city. If she knew I planned to live in sin with a girl, she'd grab that dishtowel back and flog me to death with it.
Instead, I said, "I don't know if it's the right time."
"Why not? You love her don't you?"
"I sure do. More than I've ever loved anybody." Saying the words aloud startled me, but it was true. I loved Mama and my brothers, and I'd dated girls in the past that I’d had true affection for; but this love I felt for Bethany was different.
It was stronger, deeper, and far more intense. When she wasn't near me, I wondered what she was doing. I wanted to hear all her stories and could listen to her without ever getting tired or bored. I could tell her anything and never feel embarrassed or ashamed. We didn't even need to talk at all. We could just be together in silence, feeling perfectly content. That's how I knew she was the girl for me.
Mama looked at me intently and asked, "Does she love you just as much?"
"She does. I can see it in her eyes every time she looks at me."
"Well then, what better time are you looking for?" Mama asked wisely. "You love her, and she loves you. If you keep sitting on the fence like you're doing, she'll leave town and you'll lose her forever. Then how will I get my first grandchild?"
"What if I propose and she says no? I don't think I could stand that kind of heartbreak," I confessed my deepest fear.
Mama took my face in her hands and said lovingly, "Why would she say no to you?"
"We've only known each other six weeks," I explained. She just clucked her tongue, as if I'd said something ridiculous.
"What does it matter how long you've known each other?" she scoffed. "When you've found the right person you know you're meant to spend the rest of your life with, it doesn't matter if it's been weeks or years."
"That's nice of you to say, Mama, but if we get engaged that quickly, our marriage will be doomed to failure."
"You think so?" She looked at me thoughtfully. "I guess that makes sense. After all, the divorce rate in this country is already so high. And whoever heard of a marriage being successful when the couple only knew each other for a short period of time?"
"Exactly," I nodded emphatically. Now she was making sense.
Mama moved to the stove and started putting the potatoes she's peeled into a giant pot of boiling water. When she was done, she said quietly, "Three months."
"What?" I was confused.
"Three months," she repeated. "That's how long James Hutchinson and I had known each other on the day we got married."
"I didn't know that." I was stunned. "Dad always said he met you on the Fourth of July at a church picnic."
"That's right, and our anniversary is in October. Three months from the day we met until the day we said I do."
"I assumed it was the next October. Dad said he proposed to you on your anniversary. I thought he meant your one year anniversary."
"Well, you know what they say about people who assume," she chided. "No, your father proposed to me on our one month anniversary."
I was shocked. That was two weeks less than I'd known Bethany, and my parents had been happily married for thirty-eight years, raised five sons, and never said an unkind word to each other that anyone had ever witnessed.
Mama's expression became wistful as she said, "I'll always remember the day he proposed. It was August fourth, and hotter than halleluiah. James took me down to the lake and we went skinny dipping."
"Mama!" I was horrified by the mental image, but she just giggled and kept talking.
"When we got out of the water, he handed me his shirt to wear. There was something in the pocket, and when I took it out, I saw it was an engagement ring. Your father got down on one knee, right in the sand, and asked me to marry him.
“That was nearly forty years ago, and we'd still be happily married today if it hadn't been for..."
Her voice trailed as we both thought of his untimely death. I'd been the one to find him, in a pool of blood from the bullet hole. I just thanked God that Mama hadn't come upon him first. Standing in the kitchen now, I hugged her to me and said, "I know, Mama."
"So, let that be a lesson to you on what does and doesn't lead to a successful marriage. It's not a question of how long you've known each other, but of how well. Do you know Bethany well enough to say if you'd want to spend the rest of your life with her?"
"I do," I said without a moment's hesitation.
"Well then, take this." Mama opened the cupboard above the stove and took down a cigar box. She opened the lid, and inside were all the letters Dad had ever written to her over the course of their lives together. On top of the letters was a solitaire diamond ring with a simple gold band worn by time. She took it out and handed it to me.
"Mama, no. I can't take this."
"Sure you can. It's not the most expensive ring in the world, but it's the most valuable. When your father asked me to marry him and put it on my finger, I knew I'd never seen anything more beautiful in my life. Over the years, he saved up and bought me an even bigger diamond ring, which he gave to me on our twentieth anniversary.
“It's the ring I wear now, but I kept this one tucked away in my box of keepsakes for the day when one of my sons was ready to get married. I want you to take it, and don't you dare refuse."
"I'm really touched by this." I choked back the emotion that had welled up in my throat. I took the ring and stared at it. "Are you sure you want me to have it?"
"I've never seen you as happy as you've been since you met Bethany,” she said. “All I've ever wanted for my sons is for you to find the kind of love I shared with your father, and I think you have with her. Now, go offer that ring to Bethany before she slips away."
"Thank you." I kissed Mama on the cheek and rushed out the door. With the ring safely tucked into my pocket, I hopped onto Whiskey's back and urged her to a gallop, saying, "Come on, let's find Bethany. I'm going to ask her to be my wife."
Chapter Twenty-seven: Bethany
; "Goodbye, Dad." I gave Frank a final hug in his cabin after having given him my sketch. His gruff chin scratched my cheek, and I savored the scent of him. I'd come to this ranch with the secret hope of finding my father and regaining the sense of family I'd always longed for, and now I had.
Blinking back tears, I said to him, "I'll call you when I get home. Maybe you can come out to Chicago some time to visit me. Or I can visit you wherever you end up, once you get settled of course."
"Hold on. Don't be in such a rush to go. I want to spend a little more with you, get to know more about you." He grabbed my hand and held it tight. “Let's talk a walk together.”
"I don't really have time." I'd seen William and Travis both pull into the driveway in their trucks and I knew the Hutchinsons would all be sitting down to dinner soon. It was the most special time of day, when they all celebrated each other's company, and one of the things I'd miss most about living here.
Colton was the thing I'd miss the most.
"It won't take long. I want to show you something in the forest before you go. Please, it means a lot to me." Frank refused to let go of my hand and there was a desperation in his eyes I'd never seen before.
"Okay, but I don't want to miss dinner with the Hutchinsons. It's my one chance to say goodbye to them when they're all together."
"You'll be back in plenty of time, I promise." He put his hand over his heart in a solemn vow. Reluctantly, I followed him out of the cabin and we strolled into the forest. I didn't really want to, but I hated to jeopardize the relationship we'd just begun by hurting his feelings, and so I went. After all, isn't this why I came here? To spend time with my dad?
We walked along the forest, and I recognized the path that led up to the apple tree that was Colton's favorite. Frank took me down the other trail of the path, leading down to the river. The water bubbled and flowed, and I wondered what he would possibly want to show me way out here.
We'd been walking for quite a while, and I worried that it was getting late. No doubt I'd missed most of dinner. I was about to say something when Frank said casually, "I sure do like that drawing you made of me. What did the others thing of it?"
"I already told you, I haven't shown it to anyone else. I like to keep my sketches private."
"What made you draw that particular one?" he wanted to know.
"I don't know," I said thoughtfully. "I liked the way that moment in time captured your essence, I guess. The first time I saw you, you were lighting a cigarette, and all the times we've spent together since, talking and getting to know each other, you always pause to take a smoke."
"You drew my lighter pretty damn good."
"Thanks. I hope I got the details on the bird right." The unique design had stuck in my mind, and I tried really hard to copy it exactly.
"Oh, you got it right. You have a picture of me using it that you copied?"
"No. I just drew that from memory." I swelled with pride. It hadn't been easy, and I was relieved to know I'd gotten it right.
"Did you find it somewhere and draw it from life? Maybe on the floor of the barn?" Frank sounded strangely accusatory, and some instinct in the back of my mind went on alert.
"No. I told you, I just drew it from memory," I insisted.
"That's a damn good memory you got there."
"Thanks," I said, but his words didn't sound like a compliment. He suspected me of something, but I couldn't imagine what. Maybe I drew it completely wrong after all, and it had hurt his feelings. Trying to resolve the matter, I said gently, "Let me see your lighter."
"I lost it," he snapped. So that was it! He thought I had taken it, or perhaps he was just upset that a beloved family keepsake was forever gone. After all, he had told me it was the only thing he had left that belonged to his father, and now it was missing.
"I'm sorry," I sympathized. I put a hand on his arm, but he jerked it away.
"Why'd you do it?" I didn't understand why he sounded so angry. Perhaps this was the side of him my mother had warned me to stay away from.
"Why'd I do what? Draw you?"
"Why'd you sketch me with that lighter? What are you getting at?"
Now I really didn't understand, and I was beginning to feel concerned. He wasn't acting rational and it was a little scary. If he wasn't my father, I'd be worried about being alone in the forest, but since he was, I spoke patiently and with love, "I told you, I thought it was a nice way to remember you."
"So why are you giving it to me?"
"I just thought you might like to have one of my drawings to remember me by."
"Is this a threat? Are you trying to blackmail me?"
"Of course not. What's wrong with you?" I was getting fed up with his nonsense.
"You're what's wrong with me." Frank glared at me. He was really beginning to scare me now with his odd behavior and crazy accusations. It was time to get away from him and back to where other people were around.
"Goodbye, Dad." I started to back away from him, but he grabbed me by the arm.
"Not so fast. Just where do you think you're going?"
"Back to ranch and away from you." I tried to wrench my arm free of his grip, but he dug his fingers into my flesh, making me cry out.
"You're not going anywhere," he shouted. I cried out with fear and surprise as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun, aiming it right at my head.
Chapter Twenty-eight: Colton
"Come on, girl; help me find her," I said encouragingly to Whiskey.
The quarter horse whinnied in response, as if to say, "I'm trying."
We'd been riding all around the grounds of the ranch, searching for Bethany, but she was nowhere to be found. The engagement ring was in my pocket, and I couldn't wait to offer it to her and ask her to be my wife.
If she said yes, like I hoped she would, I would be the happiest man on earth. It wouldn't matter if we ended up losing the ranch because I would have the most important thing in the world: her love.
Of course, I would have to find her first and that was proving surprisingly difficult. I knew the grounds of this ranch better than anybody, but I couldn't find the blonde city girl no matter how hard I looked.
"Have you seen Bethany?" I called out to Mack as he returned from the fields on the back of his horse. It was end of the work day and he was ready to go home, or more likely the bar.
"Yeah. She was walking with Frank Hill on the path in the forest, headed out towards the river a little while ago," he answered back.
"Thanks," I shouted as I urged Whiskey into a gallop. We found the path and traveled along it, with Whiskey's hooves kicking up a faint trail of dust in her wake. After a while, the well-worn path came to fork, with the left side leading downhill to the river, and the right leading uphill to my favorite resting place.
I steered to the right, certain I knew exactly where Bethany was going. I pulled Whiskey to a stop under my favorite apple tree, but to my great disappointment, she wasn't there. I'd been sure she would be, and I wondered if maybe I didn't know her as well as I thought I did, after all.
Suddenly, I heard a scream in the distance. I knew that voice – it was Bethany!
"Come on!" I called to Whiskey and held on tightly to the reins as the horse galloped towards the sound. A million scenarios of what could have caused Bethany to scream like that flashed through my mind, each one worse than the one before.
Whiskey came to a halt at the edge of the grass where the ground ended abruptly. Her hooves skidded to a stop and I looked down over the edge at the treacherously steep hill that could easily be classified as a short cliff.
I looked down below and my heart leapt into my throat, nearly choking me. There was Bethany, standing by the river's edge with Frank Hill. He was clutching her arm with one hand and brandishing a gun with the other.
Anxious to help her, I urged Whiskey forward down the steep hill, but the stubborn horse refused to go. The hill was way too steep for her spindly legs, and she knew it. Damn it! How the hell was I
going to get down there?
Frustrated, I knew I had to do something to rescue Bethany before Frank pulled that trigger and it was too late. In a loud voice, I shouted down the hill, "Let her go, Frank!"
Startled, Frank looked up at me and we made eye contact. I could see fear in his cold, blue eyes, but then they narrowed and I knew he was willing to hurt her if it meant he could save himself.
Bethany saw me, too, and a smile of relief curved her lips. Then I saw her look over at Frank, and she made a split-second decision that surprised and terrified me. She may be small, but she was tough and more courageous than anyone I knew.
While Frank was distracted by looking up at me, Bethany took the opportunity and stomped down her foot on top of his with all her might. At the same moment, she balled up her fist and punched him as hard as she could right in throat.
Frank's scream of pain was abruptly silenced as he gasped for breath and clutched at his throat, dropping his gun as he did so. The gun fell into the flowing river, and Bethany took off running into the cover of the forest.
I knew it wouldn't be long before Frank recovered. And when he did, he would go after her, bent on revenge. More desperate to help her than ever before, I turned Whiskey onto the trail leading down the hill, where I would eventually meet them by the river.
I urged Whiskey to gallop faster than she had ever gone before. I could feel her sides heaving as her hooves thundered against the ground. She wouldn't be able to keep up this pace for long, but I didn't care. I had to get to Bethany before Frank did, or he would kill her. I'd witnessed my father dead of a gunshot wound two years ago, and I was determined not to let the same thing happen to Bethany. Even if I had to sacrifice my own life, I would find a way to save her.
Chapter Twenty-nine: Bethany
My pulse was pounding in my ears and my lungs were gasping, but I couldn't stop running. I could hear Frank coming through the woods behind me, crashing through shrubs and breaking branches as he came. When he found me, he would surely kill me.
