by Renee Ryan
Jonathon held Fanny’s stare, willing her to understand the meaning behind his words.
She simply blinked at him.
“That is something that must never come to pass. Joshua Greene will not have the opportunity to poison another generation. I won’t allow it.”
His bone-deep sorrow was mirrored on Fanny’s face. “What…what are you saying?” she asked.
“I will not, under any inducement, father a child.”
*
Alarm shot through Fanny, making her head grow dizzy and her stomach churn. She was helpless when confronted with Jonathon’s determined reasoning.
Joshua Greene will not have the opportunity to poison another generation.
She searched desperately for a compelling argument to change her husband’s mind. She couldn’t think of one. It was an impossible situation, because a part of her understood—and sympathized—with Jonathon’s decision.
But it was a decision made in the heat of the moment, after a very tense encounter.
“My father taught me that decisions must always be made from a place of strength, not emotion. Thus, we shall table this conversation until we are both feeling a little less emotional.”
Giving him no chance to argue, she hopped to her feet and brushed off her skirt. She managed to take one step, two. By the third, Jonathon’s voice stopped her.
“I won’t change my mind, Fanny. It is a decision I made long before I met you.”
She slowly pivoted around to meet his gaze. She found herself staring at his chest. When had he risen to his feet?
Craning her neck, she attempted her brightest smile. “Perhaps, one day, you will change your mind. I can be quite persuasive.”
It was the wrong thing to say.
His guard went up, the invisible wall between them as impenetrable as if constructed out of granite.
“I meant what I said. Judge Greene’s wickedness will not influence another generation.”
“We will deny him access to our children.”
“He will find a way. Take, for example, today’s sequence of events. He managed to get to you.”
She had no ready response.
Jonathon pounced on her momentary silence. “The only way to ensure he doesn’t get to our children would be for us to move our main residence to another city. Are you willing to leave your home, your family, your mother so that we can have a family of our own?”
His voice sounded so empty, so devoid of emotion.
“We can find a way. With God all things are possible. We cannot let your father win. We can—”
“Can we?”
Fanny’s heart dropped to her toes. Her husband had become an immovable force. What else could she say to sway him?
Nothing. There was nothing that would change his mind.
Her stomach took a sickening roll, the nausea so profound she had to take several breaths to keep from being sick. “Do you not want a child with me?”
He blew out a frustrated hiss of air.
Fanny used his brief silence to firm her own resolve. “Jonathon. Do you not want to see a child created from the both of us? Half you, half me, a human being uniquely made from our union?”
Such grief washed across his face Fanny thought he would capitulate rather than give in to the loss.
Any moment now, he would agree their child—the one only they could create together—was worth every risk, including the risk of his father’s interference in their lives.
“You’re right, Fanny. We should table this discussion. I have work waiting for me downstairs.”
Looking as miserable as she felt, he walked around her and headed to the foyer.
“Jonathon, wait.”
He paused, hand on the doorknob.
“Will you at least think about what I said?”
“My mind is made up.” Turning around slowly, he studied her with eyes she could not read. It had been months since he’d given her that impenetrable look.
“I will sire no children,” he said. “I told you this before we married.”
This time, Fanny didn’t need to read his expression to know he wouldn’t budge on the matter. She heard the stubborn resolve in his voice.
Well, she was a Mitchell. Stubbornness was a hereditary trait that came part and parcel with the name. “How will you prevent me from conceiving a child? Will you—”
He never let her finish. Moving with lightning speed, he closed the distance between them. She scarcely had time to breathe before she found herself enfolded in her husband’s arms.
“I want a child with you, Fanny. I want an entire houseful. I want a family and a lifetime of happiness, but I cannot risk the possibility of Greene’s poisonous influence on another generation.”
Hope burst in her heart.
She knew what to say. She finally knew exactly what to say. “You keep speaking of your father’s influence. But he’s had no bearing on who you’ve become. I have seen you in every situation imaginable. I know who you are when you’re tired and pushed to the limit. I know who you are when you are feeling lighthearted and amused. I even know who you are when your family is threatened. I saw it today in that alley.”
His arms tightened around her.
She pressed her advantage. “The only power your father holds over us is what we surrender to him. I beg you, do not let him win.”
Jonathon set her away from him. His throat working, he swallowed several times. “I have to go.”
“Will you at least think about what I said?” she asked again.
He tilted his head as if considering her words. “Yes.”
Striding away from her, he didn’t speak again. A heartbeat later, the door shut behind him with a firm click.
Just like that, he was gone. With nothing between them solved.
Fanny’s mouth trembled and she sobbed, just once.
“I love you,” she whispered to the empty room, wishing she’d had the courage to say the words to Jonathon’s face.
Would it have made a difference?
She would never know.
Her husband must come around to her way of thinking on his own, or not at all, and certainly not because she’d manipulated him with tender words of love.
A wave of heat lifted up from her stomach, making her head spin. She had to reach out and steady herself on a nearby table, or else give in to the nausea that had plagued her on and off all week.
She and Jonathon were at an impasse, with each of them set on their own course for the future and no hope of changing the other’s mind.
Could their marriage survive?
Could Fanny survive?
Jonathon’s nearness, without his full commitment to their marriage, would tear her apart bit by bit. To see him, to speak to him, but never to be close to him again would prove torture.
And what would happen to him?
He would pull away from her and distance himself completely, first physically, then emotionally. Joshua Greene’s legacy would live on in the worst possible way imaginable.
Fanny hurt for her husband. Lord, what do I do?
She sank to her knees and did the only thing she could.
She prayed.
Chapter Twenty
Jonathon charged into his office and slammed the door behind him with a wood-splintering crack. He moved around his desk, his mind still upstairs with Fanny. If he were a less cynical man he would say his wife had looked at him moments ago with love in her eyes.
Maybe it was wrong, or even selfish of him to wish it were true, but if Fanny loved him, there must be more good in him than bad. More Marc Dupree than Joshua Greene.
Fanny had claimed his father had no bearing on who’d he become. Jonathon wanted to believe her. He wanted the promise of long, happy years as her husband. He wanted to love her with everything inside him, as a man loved his woman.
It was true, then. He loved Fanny. He loved his wife.
So many impulses flooded him. He wanted to rush back upstairs and
profess his feelings.
He’d told her the truth just now. He desperately wanted to know the wonder of having a child with her, of staring into the face of a precious baby, equally comprised of them both. Which actually made his point for him.
Jonathon was the product of the people who’d made him, half his mother and half his father.
You are also the Lord’s child.
The thought swept through him with such strength he collapsed onto the chair behind his desk.
He wasn’t an accident. He wasn’t a mistake. He’d come to grips with that, in his heart and in his head. But he couldn’t run from his past, couldn’t deny that any child he created with Fanny would also be Joshua Greene’s grandchild.
Fanny claimed his father could wield only the power they surrendered to him. Perhaps she was right.
Perhaps it was time for Jonathon to put the past behind him once and for all. He needed to speak with Greene, set a few things straight. He would do so now.
Just as he stood, a knock came at his door.
“Enter.”
His assistant quickly pushed into the room, a harried expression on his face. “An urgent telegram has arrived for you from San Francisco.”
Jonathon read the short missive, felt his stomach drop. A main water pipe had broken, flooding the entire first floor. “I’ll need to leave at once.”
“I’ll make the arrangements.” Burke paused at the door, tilted his head as if studying a difficult puzzle. “Will you be traveling alone, Mr. Hawkins, or will your wife be accompanying you on the journey to California?”
The question took him by surprise. Jonathon hadn’t thought to have Fanny accompany him. Now that idea was in his head, he rolled it around. Once they took care of the problem at the hotel, he and Fanny could stay a few extra days in the city.
Jonathon could show his wife San Francisco, the city he’d found fascinating enough to build his fourth hotel there. He could take Fanny to all his favorite places. They could eat at five-star restaurants and walk hand in hand on the shores of the bay. He would fall in love with her all over again. When they retired for the evening, he wouldn’t be able to keep his distance from the woman he loved with all his heart.
But the matter of children wasn’t yet settled. There could be no more marital relations until final decisions were made.
Perhaps it was best to leave Fanny at home. Time away might actually help the situation.
“I will be traveling alone,” he told his assistant, who stood patiently waiting for his response.
“Very good, Mr. Hawkins.”
“Once you make the arrangements for my trip, alert Mrs. Singletary of the problem at the San Francisco Hotel Dupree.” The widow owned one-quarter of his hotel empire. This situation affected her as much as Jonathon.
“I’ll head to her house this afternoon and give her the news myself.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.” Jonathon didn’t need to give further instructions to his assistant. Burke Galloway already knew what to do in his absence.
When he was alone once more, Jonathon gathered the necessary papers and other accoutrements he would need to conduct business in San Francisco for the next several weeks.
All that was left was to go upstairs and pack his clothes.
Fanny was just coming out of the washroom when he stepped inside their suite. She’d restyled her hair and her features looked clean and bright, as if she’d recently splashed water on her face.
Jonathon had always thought his wife beautiful, but right now she glowed. In the way spring chased away winter, she’d chased away his loneliness and had brought light into his life. He didn’t want to lose her.
“Oh, Jonathon.” She ran to him and flung her arms around his waist. “I knew you’d come back.”
She sounded as if he’d been gone for months, when in reality it had been just shy of a half hour.
“There’s a problem at the San Francisco Hotel Dupree.” He set her away from him and briefly explained the situation with the water pipe. “I have to leave town immediately.”
“Of course you do. Something this major requires your personal attention.”
She was so understanding, so calm, his love for her swelled in his chest. He wanted to hold her close, to make promises, to tell her that he could be the man she needed, and she could have the life she’d always dreamed of—with him. Only him.
But there was still too much uncertainty and darkness inside his bitter soul, none of which he could allow to spill onto her.
“Would you…” Studying the runner at her feet, she dug her toe into the swirling pattern. “Would you like me to help you pack?”
“No.” Emotion coiled in his muscles, tightened in his stomach. He speared a hand through his hair, shocked at the raw, shattered tone of his own voice.
Her head lifted, revealing the hurt in her eyes.
“Oh.” She looked away. “All right. I will leave you to it, then.”
She turned toward the door, but he caught her by the hand. “I don’t need help packing, but I would very much like you to keep me company.”
Her smile came lightning fast. “I would like that, too.”
*
Fanny stood at the threshold of Jonathon’s dressing room and silently watched him pack. His movements were stiff and impatient as he filled a medium-sized valise with various articles of clothing and personal items.
She knew he was still upset, but he’d erected a hard exterior to hide behind. The one he’d once worn as naturally as a medieval knight wore his suit of armor.
Was the cause of her husband’s distance their conversation about children? Or was the problem with the San Francisco hotel the source?
Perhaps it was a little of both.
The thought of him leaving her with the tension still so strong between them was breaking her heart. She feared if he left Denver now, their marriage might never be able to recover.
Surely, he must be struggling with similar thoughts. And yet he hadn’t asked her to join him on this trip. Fanny fought to remain outwardly calm, even as terror slid an icy chill down her spine.
“Why are you letting your father win?”
“I’m not leaving town because of my father. I told you why I have to go.”
Her heart began to thump fast and hard and her stomach twisted in another sickening knot of dread. She thought she might be ill, right here, in her husband’s dressing room.
She pulled in several tight breaths until the terrible sensation passed.
“Take me with you.” She spoke so softly she wondered if he heard her.
Her doubts were dispelled when he looked up, his hand hovering over the contents of his luggage. “That wouldn’t be wise.”
“Why not?”
With a quick sweep of his hand, he shut the valise. “We need this time apart.” Face expressionless, he secured the buckles. “To decide, individually, what we want from our marriage.”
How could they decide such a thing individually? Marriage was a partnership, with two people making decisions together.
He was leaving her. Nothing else explained his refusal to take her with him.
Something bleak and angry rose up from her soul. The depths of the emotion would shock everyone who knew her, perhaps even Jonathon himself. It certainly shocked her. Enough that she again thought she might be sick.
She swallowed back the nausea. “You mean you need time away from me to decide what you want for your future. I already know what I want. Take me with you.”
He moved past her and set the suitcase on the floor in the hallway. Then, eyes grim, he made the short trek back to where she stood. “There is only one thing that would induce me to ask you to join me.”
“Name it.”
“You come with me as my business associate, not my wife.”
Sucking in a shocked breath, Fanny reared back. “You can’t mean—”
But he did. She saw it in his cold, distant expression.
&nbs
p; Casting aside all pride, she lunged herself at her husband.
As if expecting the move, he caught her against his chest. Her pleasure at being near him trumped the terrible pain swirling in her stomach. She was all feeling at that moment, her emotions closer to the surface than she wished to show her husband.
Recklessly, she pressed her mouth to his. His hold tightened around her and he kissed her back.
I love you. I love you. I love you. Her mind silently screamed the words in her head, over and over and over again. Then came the more desperate plea. Don’t leave me.
Did she have the courage to make the humiliating request?
It was some time before Jonathon eventually set her away from him. Heavy emotion weighed heavy between them.
They both gasped for breath and stared at one another, wide-eyed.
Fanny’s heart was full of love for her husband and she knew he loved her in return. She saw it in his tortured expression, in the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
“Take me with you,” she repeated, “as your wife.”
“You know my terms.”
She couldn’t go with him as only a business associate. But she feared if he went to San Francisco without her, he might never return. Not the man she married, at any rate. A stranger would appear in his place, and then nothing would ever be the same. “And you know mine.”
He nodded. “We’ll talk more when I get back.” He brushed a brief kiss to her forehead. “I’ll return as quickly as I can, I promise you that.”
She thought she might weep.
He picked up the valise and maneuvered around her. “I will send a telegraph alerting you to the date of my return.”
She made no sound, made no attempt to respond. She was too stunned that he would give up on her, on them, like this. She was cold to the bone. No amount of rubbing her arms warmed them.
Dimly, she heard Jonathon’s footsteps move down the hallway, through the parlor, then into the foyer. The door opened and closed with a soft click. That was it.
Her husband was gone.
Only then, when she was completely alone, did Fanny acknowledge the nausea roiling in her stomach. She rushed into the washroom and gave in to the churning illness.
