Ruth backed away, so enraged by what Matt had done, words didn't come. But when they did, she cried, "You're sorry! Do you have any idea of the living hell I was going through while you were saving your damn marriage with a child you bought in a quick sale!? I hate you for this, and nothing you say or do will change that. Nothing will ever give me back the lost years with my child you stole from me! And I will get her back. I'm her mother and she belongs with me!"
When she turned to rush out of the room, Annie was standing in the doorway, her face as rigid as a mask. When Ruth went to reach for her, she pushed her away, rushed around her and ran into Matt's arms, crying as if her heart would break.
Ruth stared at them—Annie's little arms clutching Matt, Matt stroking her hair and holding her against him while peering over the top of her head at Ruth—and for the most bizarre moment in her life, Ruth felt guilty for causing the people she loved most so much grief. Before she came into their lives they were happy. Annie lived in a world where she was secure, a world in which she was loved unconditionally. And now, the woman she trusted most had dared to steal her away from the person Annie loved most in the world.
Between sobs, Annie said, "Daddy, don't let her take me away. I don't want to leave here. I hate her. I don't want her for my mommy. I just want you. Please don't let her take me away." Deep sobs wracked her little body.
Matt tucked his cheek against Annie's head, and said, "No one will ever take you away from me, honey. I can absolutely promise you that." He looked at Ruth then, and Ruth nodded in agreement. Because the fact was, she couldn't take Annie away from Matt, no matter how much she'd been wronged. Nor could she marry Matt, because she could never forgive him for the devastating, heartbreaking years of terror and turmoil and psychological trauma that could have been prevented if he'd just done what he knew in his heart was right.
Turning from the sight of them, she left to go pack her belongings. She would not walk out of Beth's life, but she could not stay at the Kincaid Ranch any longer either.
***
It was well past midnight by the time Ruth finished packing her bags. She had just snapped off the light and crawled into bed when she heard the door to her bedroom open, and looked up to see Matt's tall frame standing in the doorway. "I saw the light under the door a few minutes ago so I know you're still awake," he said. "Can you come downstairs? We need to talk."
Ruth turned her back to him. "I'm too upset to talk to you right now. Just go away."
"You have a right to be upset," Matt said, moving closer to the bed, "but we can't leave things like this. At least come downstairs and hear me out."
"I'm leaving tomorrow," Ruth said. "You can write whatever it is you want to tell me in a letter. Now, please go."
"This will not be hashed out in a letter," Matt said. "We can either talk downstairs, or we'll talk it out here." There was no innuendo in his tone, only heartfelt desperation.
"Alright," Ruth said, wearily. "I'll come downstairs. Give me a few minutes."
Matt left the room, closing the door behind. As he made his way down the stairs, he wasn't sure how he'd approach Ruth. He had put her through hell. And even though he'd gone through his own kind of hell over the years, worrying if Annie could be taken from him, he couldn't deny that if he'd gone to the authorities when he'd first had doubts, Ruth would have been spared four years of unimaginable agony. There seemed no way he could ever make it up to her, and she had every right to hate him for as long as she lived. But he also hoped maybe, somewhere in her heart, she could find forgiveness.
A few minutes later, when Ruth entered the living room, he saw at once how tired and drawn her face looked. And it was obvious she'd been crying. She pulled her robe around herself and sat stiffly on the edge of the couch. "What is it you want to say?" she asked, her words terse.
"Honey—"
"Stop!" She raised a stiff hand in protest. "Don't call me that. I'm not your honey, or your sweetheart. I'm nothing to you, just as you're nothing to me. As for the situation with Annie, she'll stay here with you because I believe she'd be terribly unhappy if I took her away. But I'll look into moving to Pine Grove where I can see her on a regular basis, but I will expect some kind of a court settlement that will take care of me since there are no jobs for me in Pine Grove." She stared at him, face as impregnable as a fortress, and waited for his response.
Her cold account weighed heavily on him. Although he understood her refusal to work things out, he'd thought her feelings for him went deeper, that theirs had been one of those rare and special relationships that could withstand adversity. But he'd also read that there were two things in life that tore marriages apart: adultery, and the death of a child. Although theirs wasn't a marriage, their lives had come together for the sake of Annie. But for Ruth, she'd lost a child, and found her, yet was willing to relinquish custody of the child she loved because it was right for her child. But if she could love him just a little, they could work things out. There had been a time when he was certain she loved him, that her feelings for him went deeper than simply a scheme to get her child back. "Then you never loved me, not even a little?" he asked.
For a few moments Ruth seemed at a loss for words. Then her mouth drooped in a cheerless line and her eyes became troubled, and she said, "You gave me an ultimatum that didn't include love."
Matt couldn't deny that. From the day Ruth walked into the kitchen in her western-cut shirt and tight jeans and caught him by surprise, all he could think of was getting her in bed. But somewhere between then and now he fell in love, deeply and completely in love with the woman who'd given birth to Annie. "Just because I said I wouldn't marry until Annie was grown and gone didn't mean I didn't love you," he said. "I even told you I did."
"That was at the swimming hole," Ruth replied. "You said that in the heat of passion."
"True, it was in the heat of passion," Matt conceded, "but I meant every word of it. The fact is, I've loved you since that first riding lesson when you planted your hands on your hips and accused me of thinking you were ornerier than a mule with a burr under its blanket. And the night on the porch, when I held you in my arms, my love grew stronger. And when you gave me those damn flowered prissy pants and demanded I wear them, I loved you all the more because you were doing it for Annie. The bigger question is, if you loved me even a little, could you love me again? You told me you did at the swimming hole, and I know why now. But maybe you could find some forgiveness in you and we could put it all behind us for Annie's sake and be a family. A real family, like Mr. and Mrs. Matthew Kincaid, Annie Kincaid's parents."
Ruth blinked her red-rimmed eyes and said, "I suppose I could do it for Annie."
Matt walked up to her and rested his hands on her shoulders and looked at her solemnly. "Only for Annie?" When she said nothing, yet didn't shrug from under his touch, he brushed the tears from beneath each eye and said, "Honey, I can't give you back the years I took away from you and Annie. All I can do is spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it, but the only way I can do that is if you'll marry me."
Ruth batted her long lashes as she gazed up at him with wistful longing, and said, "But the only reason you're asking me to marry you now is because of Annie."
Matt realized what she'd just said was a convoluted way of telling him she loved him. "Annie's a factor," he admitted, "but I happened to have fallen in love with the only woman on the face of the earth who I know would never walk away from her." He bent down and kissed her, a long, lingering kiss that was filled with all the tenderness and heartfelt love he could give, and to his amazement, she curved her arms around his neck kissed him back. There would be a lifetime for feverish, passionate kisses, but for now, having her warm and yielding in his arms, the way it had been on the porch during that eerie silence, he felt the first glimmer of hope that marriage could really become a reality.
After a few moments he moved his lips from hers, and said, "Honey, let me put it to you another way. Annie needs her mother here to tuck
her in bed at night, and I need Annie's mother here to tuck me in bed at night, and if you'll agree to marry us, Annie and I will be the two luckiest people on earth." When Ruth said nothing, just stared at him unblinking, he realized what he'd said was self-serving because it was all about what Ruth would do for him and Annie.
About the time he was certain his hopes were dashed, a small miracle happened. Ruth smiled. "Is that a yes?" he asked. "Will we be a family?"
To his surprise, and amazement, Ruth reached up and touched his face, and said to him, in what he'd one day look back on as the most remarkable moment in his life, "Yes, sweetheart, we'll be a family."
***
Ruth insisted on talking to Annie to try and win back her love and trust before telling her about the marriage plan. She found Annie sitting on the lichen-covered log of a juniper, a stick in her hand, jabbing it in agitated thrusts at the ground. When Annie saw her coming, she pressed her lips in disapproval and glared at Ruth with a look of condemnation that said it all. Still, Annie didn't rush off as Ruth had feared.
Ruth sat on the log beside her, and after a few minutes of strained silence, she said, "Annie, I'll never take you away from your daddy. I promise you that." When Annie made no reply, Ruth added, "Remember that little girl I told you about?"
Annie looked at her and her anger began to fade, replaced by curiosity. "The little girl named Beth?"
"Yes," Ruth replied. "Beth was my daughter, and she was stolen from me when I wasn't looking. We don't know who stole her, or how it happened, but your daddy ended up adopting her because he wanted a little girl, and that's how you came to be with him instead of with me."
Anne's face grew troubled. Then she blinked several times, and said, "Beth is me?"
"Yes, sweetheart. Beth is you. You are the little girl who was taken from me four years ago. But I love you just as much as your daddy does, and all I want is for you to be happy. If staying here at the ranch with your daddy is what makes you happy, then that's how it will be. I'll never take you from him again."
"But you lied to me," Annie said. "You told me we were going on a bus ride to see my daddy. But my daddy was mad with you when he took me from you."
Ruth knew the only way to correct a lie was with the truth, even if Annie might be too young to fully understand. "Lying to you was wrong," she said, "but I was scared because I had finally found you, and I was afraid I'd lose you again. It was wrong of me to take you away, and to scare your daddy the way I did. But he did what was right and brought you back here where you belong. I'm so sorry for lying to you sweetheart, and I promise I'll never, ever lie to you again, as long as I live. I hope you can believe that."
While Annie seemed to be digesting the information, instead of the short, agitated movements of the stick, she began tapping it lightly against the ground. Then she tossed it aside, and said, "Will you be going away now?"
There was sadness in Annie's tone that Ruth found hopeful. "I will if that's what you want."
Annie looked at her, tears misting her eyes, and said, "Could you come here sometime so we could go riding or swimming?"
Ruth curved a finger beneath Annie's chin and lifted so she could look into Annie's big sad blue eyes, and said, "What if I stayed right here at the ranch? That way we could go riding and swimming anytime you want. Would you like that?"
Annie's eyes grew worried, and her brows drew together as she looked at Ruth, and said, "Are you still mad at Daddy?"
"No, sweetheart," Ruth replied. "I love your daddy. I could never stay mad at him."
"Would you be my mommy then?" Annie asked, a look of expectation on her face.
"I already am your mommy," Ruth said. "And if I marry your daddy we'll be a real family. Would you like that?"
Annie gave Ruth a disarming smile, and replied, "Could I call you mommy then?"
Ruth's eyes filled with tears of joy. "Yes, sweetie, you surely can."
Annie hopped down from the log and said, "Can we go tell Daddy now?"
Ruth looked in the distance and saw Matt watching. "Yes, sweetheart. I think he's waiting for you to do that."
EPILOGUE
Ruth and Matt were married on a cool, crisp fall day in a small chapel in Pine Grove. Ruth's father accompanied her down the aisle, and Annie stood sandwiched between Matt and Ruth in a ceremony that united the family and joined Ruth and Matt in marriage. Matt’s entire family, all the ranch hands, including Edith, and many of the residents of Pine Grove came for the occasion, all of them standing in a long line outside the chapel afterwards to throw rice at the newlyweds.
The honeymoon was brief. The trial that followed, which ultimately convicted the conspirators in the child-stealing ring, seemed endless. But it was over and Matt was finally Annie’s legal father.
Ruth sat in an overstuffed chair in her parents’ living room and waited for Matt and Annie to emerge from Beth's old bedroom. It was their first visit to Salem since the end of the trial, and the old house seemed to radiate with new life. Once again her mother hummed as she flitted about like a butterfly between blossoms while tending to her housework. She'd pause occasionally to say something like, 'It's so good to see you smiling again, honey,' or 'Ain't life grand,' then she'd go about her work again, like she’d done years before. And her father had once again taken up his love-hate affair with the daily news, grumbling over the immorality of the current generation and the corruption of the politicians in Washington, as he had before. Life truly was grand. It had been, ever since the outcome of the trial.
But during the ordeal, Ruth had gone through hell, having to relive those terrible days after the kidnapping, almost as if Beth had been snatched away a second time. She wondered now if she could have gotten through it without Matt. He was there when she'd reach out in the night, needing someone to cling to. And he was at her side through the long, emotional days in court, when they both had to take the stand. And then came the conviction, and it was over. She had no words to describe how she felt, only deep, body-wrenching sobs of relief...
Annie emerged from her grandparent’s bedroom, a bright smile on her face, and two packages in her hands. Matt caught Ruth's eye and winked. Annie went to her grandmother first. "This is for you, Grandma," she said, handing her a package.
Irene Sinclair opened it carefully and found a stuffed monkey dressed in gingham and wearing a hat with a feather plume, and tiny granny glasses perched on her flat, monkey nose. "Her name's Lydia," Annie said, hovering over her grandmother, who gave Annie a big hug. "She’s Bum Baby’s grandma. And this one's for you, Mommy." Annie handed Ruth a large package, imperfectly wrapped in pearly pink paper that was decorated with an array of colorful flowers drawn with crayons. "Daddy's the one who got it. He said you'd really like it. But I decorated it for you. And I wrapped it myself."
"Thank you, sweetie," Ruth said, accepting the package. She carefully removed the paper and set it aside then read the words hand-scribed in ornate calligraphy on a beautifully framed document. "Bethany Anne Kincaid," she read aloud, as she stared at the certificate with Annie's new legal name. Tears of joy misted her eyes as she studied the crayon stick figures of a man, a woman and a child, a big horse barn, a large house with a lopsided porch, and an assortment of horses and dogs, all colorful figures decorating the matte board that set off the document.
Annie looked up at her and said, "Now I have a new name just like you do."
Ruth laughed, and replied, "Actually, sweetheart, we both have our old names. You have your name Beth back, and I have my name Jennifer back, but since everyone calls us by our middle names, that's the names we'll use." Her decision to stay with the name Ruth was a simple one. Annie told her she thought the name Ruth was pretty.
She set the framed document aside and hugged Annie, and said, "Next to having you, sweetie, this is the best Mother's Day gift I could ever have." She peered over Annie's head at Matt, who gave her his sad puppy dog look, and added, "And Daddy, too, of course."
Annie giggled, then squirme
d out of Ruth's arms and crouched on the floor, determined to coax a wary cat out from under the chair. Ruth smiled. How different this Mother's Day had been from those she'd been forced to endure the past four years. And how long she'd waited for this day to come. She gazed at the vacant window where Beth's candle had burned for four long years, and for an instant, a kaleidoscope of black memories whirled in her mind and she was again in that endless dark corridor where there was no hope of light...
She looked away and found Matt staring at her with an odd intensity. He reached out and took her hand, and said, "Let it go, honey. Don't be haunted by those memories."
"How did you know?" She asked.
"Because every time you think about it the light goes out of your eyes." Matt pressed his lips to her palm. "I love you, Ruth. You've made my life rich beyond belief. You've given me more than I could ever dream. Be happy, my love."
Ruth saw the sincerity in Matt's eyes, the promise of his smile, and felt the glorious awareness of their love. And again, life was filled with meaning.
Silly foolish woman, she thought, to allow even one brief, dark moment to interrupt her happiness. Her life with Matt and Annie had already been filled with so much joy, the memory of that ever-burning flame rarely surfaced as it had moments before.
She gazed at Matt, her life, her love, her rock to lean on, then at Annie, her own little Beth, who lay on the floor contentedly petting the cat. Her heart thrummed with the knowledge that she loved and was loved, that she needed and was needed, that their union was the seed from which Annie would blossom. And she knew that one day soon she'd be at peace, that the ever-burning flame would finally be extinguished in her mind.
A feeling of quiet contentment settled over her.
Perhaps that day had finally come.
###
Thank you!
Thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed Justified Deception. If you did, I'd love for you to:
Justified Deception (Prequel: Dancing Moon Ranch Series) Page 18
