Loving Bella

by Renee Ryan

  And now, free from the viscount at last, she could open her heart to a man who would help her become a better person.

  She turned her gaze to Shane. His expression wasn’t exactly closed, but it wasn’t welcoming either.

  He was probably thinking about his current dilemma with his father’s will. Mr. Wilson would want his answer in two short days.

  How had she forgotten?

  “Shane, do you—”

  “I was proud—” he said at the same time. Cutting himself off with a chuckle, he continued, “Go ahead, Bella.”

  “You first.”

  “All right.” He stopped walking.

  Bella did the same.

  “I want to tell you how proud I was of you in church today.”

  “I—” She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

  He gave her a poignant smile and something fluttered in her stomach. He understood. He knew that the famous opera singer had been terrified of singing in front of her brother’s tiny congregation. “I couldn’t have done it without knowing you,” she added.

  “You’re stronger than you think.” His expression turned sad, troubled even. “You’ve been obedient to God in a way most women given the same situation would never have been.”

  She lowered her gaze to her toes. This was not an easy conversation, especially with a man who had experienced the ugly repercussions of an unholy alliance between a man and his mistress.

  If there was to be any relationship with him she had to be honest now, as honest as possible. Honest enough to scare him off. “I ran away, Shane. Who’s to say what I would have done had I stayed?”

  “Running away, as you put it, took courage, Bella, especially given your feelings for your suitor at the time.”

  She saw the unspoken question in his eyes and knew her answer would set them on a new path. “I don’t love him anymore.”

  His gaze searched her face for a long moment. Bella held his stare, unflinching under his scrutiny. She had nothing to hide from him.

  “Are you sure, Bella? Completely sure?”

  “Yes.” She put all her feelings, all her emotions into that lone word.

  “You’ve only been here a few months. Can love die that quickly?” There was doubt in his eyes as he spoke.

  “What I felt for William wasn’t love. I know that now.” And what she felt for Shane, the admiration, the respect, the desire to see him happy, was so much truer, deeper and real than her feelings for Lord Crawley had ever been.

  “How do you know that, Bella?”

  “Because…”

  He lifted a single brow, hope flickering in his gaze.

  “Because.” She placed her hand on his cheek and smiled. “I love you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Shane’s first instinct was to pull Bella into his arms and swing her round and round with pleasure. She loved him. He loved her. The rest would work itself out. Except life and love didn’t always end happy.

  Thus, his second instinct was to step back from her declaration.

  How could she love him when her heart had yearned for another man until very recently?

  His tangled emotions must have shown on his face because Bella lowered her hand from his cheek. “You don’t believe me.”

  She looked so downtrodden, so dejected, that he wanted to deny her words. But he refused to lie. “No. I don’t. But Bella, I want to.”

  She nodded, resignation slumping her shoulders forward. Shane almost felt the need to comfort her. But then her chin shot up and her eyes grew determined. “I’ll prove myself to you.”

  He swallowed back a hasty response. His life had found a perfect tempo with this woman, yet he couldn’t trust what they had was real. Why did his past still have such power over him? Why couldn’t he forgive his mother and father, and truly live his life for himself?

  He looked at Bella then, really looked at her, and tried to separate both of their pasts from the present.

  Caution got the best of him. “Bella, you were in love with another man only a few days ago.”

  Her jaw went rigid and she swallowed hard. “I told you that wasn’t love. It was a whim.”

  The wind kicked up, howling and snapping at them with vicious delight.

  “A whim,” he said through flat lips.

  She opened her mouth, sighed, shook her head. “I understand why you don’t believe me. And I realize words alone won’t convince you. So you’ll have to give me time to show you my feelings are real.”

  Time? She asked too much of him. How could he spend countless days and nights, working side by side with her, and not fall deeper in love with her? And when she went back to the stage, or to her viscount, or wherever her next whim took her, he’d be left behind. Alone. Pining.

  “What happens when you return to the stage?” he asked.

  She shifted her stance. “Maybe I don’t want to return to the stage.”

  Not return to the stage? She’d been born to sing. “What is this really about, Bella?”

  She scowled. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Don’t you?” He placed his finger under her chin and applied gentle pressure until she looked into his eyes. “People don’t change this dramatically in such a short period of time. And even if they did, I heard you today. You would be wasting God’s gift if you never sang again.”

  “How do you know I didn’t find my calling today?” Her eyes lit with an inner fire, a sureness he’d never seen in her before. “How do you know I wasn’t meant to sing in church, praising God, not on a stage demanding the audience’s worship for myself?”

  Now she sounded angry. Truly angry. But he couldn’t let either of them forget she was young. Her sheltered youth hadn’t prepared her for the harsher realities of the world. How could either of them be sure she knew her own mind when less than two months ago she was charging to the top of the opera world, with a viscount pursuing her for his mistress?

  “You’ll see, Shane, as the days pass I will remain constant.”

  He would see nothing of the kind. And he knew the exact way to save them both from further pain.

  It’s the coward’s way out, a voice whispered in his head. He ignored the thought as he walked her to the front of her brother’s home.

  He stopped before taking the first step leading to the porch. “Your services are no longer needed at this time, Miss O’Toole.”

  “You’re dismissing me? Again?” Her voice was one of pure outrage, as though no one had ever dared to disagree with her on a matter more than once, much less twice in two days.

  Had she been upset by his words, contrite even, Shane might have changed his mind. Instead, he stood his ground. “As of this afternoon, you are no longer my assistant.”

  Her mouth hung open, then it shut with a determined snap. “We’ve been through this before.”

  “Yesterday, to be exact.”

  Her eyebrows slammed together. Shane could see her mind working through the conversation, coming up with and then discarding several responses. At last, a look of triumph spread across her face.

  Shane braced for impact.

  “Technically, you can’t dismiss me because you don’t pay me. I’m a volunteer.”

  “Not anymore.”

  She balled her hands into tight fists by her sides. “You are the most stubborn man I know.”

  “And you’re the picture of flexibility.” His ironic tone made her frown.

  “You will regret this,” she warned.

  “Probably.”

  With a blink and a snap of her head, she wrapped her dignity around her like a cloak. “I won’t go quietly.”

  “I’m not at all surprised.”

  Angry shock leapt into her face. “You need me.”

  If she only knew how much.

  “Please don’t do this to me. To us.”

  He hated that he was hurting her. But he couldn’t relent now that he had taken this step. Maybe he needed to prove to her, as much as to himself, that she
wouldn’t run away from love. Maybe they both needed to know her love for Shane was real.

  With that thought, he held himself back, folded his emotions further inside himself and fought an overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms and beg her forgiveness.

  “Good day, Miss O’Toole.” He turned on his heel and left her sputtering after him.

  As he walked away, he feared he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. Not only had he turned his back on the woman he loved, he’d just angered a very determined female. One who would not slink away meekly.

  Oddly enough, the thought made him smile.

  The following morning, Bella begged a ride into town from Beau. Ever the devoted brother, he delivered her to Shane’s office at precisely nine o’clock. Of course, the stubborn mule of a doctor was off making his daily visits without her.

  Well, she wouldn’t allow him to dismiss her so easily. Thankfully, he’d forgotten to retrieve the key he’d given her that first day of work.

  She let herself into the office, stood just inside the door inhaling the scent of iodine and sulfur. A sense of rightness filled her. This was where she belonged, with Shane, working by his side.

  How far they’d come since the first morning of her employ. No, she had come far. Shane had remained the same. Convicted in his beliefs, compassionate, a true man of integrity. On his best day, William was only half the man Shane was on his worst. She’d been dazzled by the viscount. But she loved Shane.

  Of course, convincing Shane she knew the difference between the two was going to be a problem. His cruel father and selfish mother had inflicted too much damage to him when he was a boy. And now, Shane didn’t believe in his fellow man, or fellow woman, as was the case with Bella.

  She trudged to the table and noticed that Peter Ford’s will was where Mr. Wilson had left it. By its position, she realized Shane hadn’t read a single page. She ran her finger across the top edge and sighed. How was he going to find a solution when he wouldn’t read the stipulation for himself?

  Oh, Lord, help Shane.

  He deserved an answer that would hurt no one, not even himself. Yet, according to Mr. Wilson, the will was written in such a way as to ensure Shane lived with regrets the rest of his life.

  Bella flipped through the pages, not really focusing on the words. She prayed the solicitor was mistaken, he had to be mistaken.

  Starting over, Bella carefully read each page. Most of the legal language confused her, but then she came to the stipulation of Shane’s inheritance.

  “This agreement is contingent on Shane Bartlett practicing medicine in New York City,” she read aloud. “If he fails to do so, my complete estate is bequeathed to Harvard Medical School for the sole purpose of research.”

  There it was, in black ink on white parchment, the stipulation that condemned Shane to a lifetime of regret and guilt. No matter what course he chose, the requirement meant Shane had to move to New York or forfeit his inheritance to his alma mater.

  Anger swelled. “No. I’m missing something.”

  With a fast flip, Bella turned to the last page. The will was dated less than a year ago.

  The beast. The nasty, unfeeling beast. Peter Ford must have known about Shane’s work in Denver at the time he’d drawn up his will. The old man must have known what he was doing.

  And then to leave his own daughters completely without provision? “Nasty, nasty man.”

  Pounding her fists against her thighs, Bella paced around the room. Surely, there was a way out of the legal restrictions set before Shane.

  This agreement is contingent on Shane Bartlett practicing medicine in New York…

  Bella stopped pacing and rushed back to the table. Oh, Lord, is that it? Can it be that simple? Could Peter Ford have been that shortsighted?

  Surely a man of such vast wealth wasn’t so bent on getting his own way that he’d miss something so simple.

  Bella flipped through the pages frantically.

  “Slow down, slow down,” she whispered. “Make sure you’re correct.”

  Reading carefully, slowly, taking meticulous care with each line, Bella found Shane’s solution.

  Oh, Lord, You are a good and gracious God. You really do take care of Yours. Thank You, Lord. Thank You.

  She gathered the papers and stuffed them in her satchel. Shane might not believe she loved him. He might not believe she was over William. But he would hear her out this morning.

  Oh, yes. Shane Bartlett was in for a little lesson when it came to Bella O’Toole’s devotion to him.

  And for his sake, he better listen up the first time.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Shane wanted to believe Bella loved him. But as his feet led him in the direction of her brother’s home, he couldn’t prevent his skepticism from mounting. Years of boyhood trauma had left him cynical. Thoughts of his youth had Shane’s mind wandering back to his mother.

  Even now, as a successful adult, his heart yearned for the woman Amanda Bartlett had never been. Her unrequited love for Peter Ford had left her bitter. And because of her resentment, she had abandoned her duties as a mother, imprisoning Shane in a world of poverty and loneliness.

  He waited for his anger to rise at the memories deluging him. But all he experienced was an overwhelming sadness. How could he condemn his mother when he himself had fallen into her same trap? He was in love with a woman whose heart was still tangled with another man’s.

  Caught inside his troubling thoughts, Shane nearly crashed into Beau.

  Beau braced his hands on Shane’s shoulders. “Whoa, watch yourself.”

  “Sorry.” With a shake of his head, Shane forced his mind back to the present. He heard laughter coming from Charity House’s backyard, heard the sound of wagon wheels rolling along, the call of a bird, Beau’s impatient click of his tongue. “Someone’s in a rush.”

  “I have a lot on my mind.”

  Beau slapped him on the back. “I’m sure it’s nothing an honest discussion between friends can’t fix.”

  Shane cocked his head at that cryptic remark. “I’m afraid I’m not following you.”

  “Come have a cup of coffee with me. We need to talk.” Beau punctuated his words with a measuring half smile. Shane had seen the look before, in the Charity House kitchen when he’d first asked Bella to become his assistant. Beauregard O’Toole, firmly ensconced in his role as protective big brother, wanted to discuss his sister.

  And although Shane had searched out his friend for that very reason, he found himself reluctant to carry on with his mission now. “I have to check on my patients at Charity House first.”

  Beau was not to be put off. “They’re in the middle of a baseball game. You won’t be missed for a while yet.”

  Recognizing the hard purpose in the other man’s eyes, Shane resisted the urge to rub at the sudden headache drumming behind his eyes. “I should let them know where I’ll be.”

  “Already done. Now come, Shane.” Beau gave him a look that was not becoming to a preacher. “It’s past time we had ourselves a little heart-to-heart.”

  Shane had a quick impression of what a man felt like on his way to a firing squad. “Maybe we should go back to my office.”

  “We do this in my office today.”

  Beau took off toward his house. Shane had no other recourse but to follow. Or rather, no other recourse besides running away like a yellow-belly coward.

  “We’ll talk in my study,” Beau suggested.

  Trailing behind his friend, Shane removed his coat, all the while thinking hard. Something had spurred this meeting. And he feared he knew what. Bella. Him. Together, with together being the operative word.

  One slim thought held his rising desperation at bay. Shane had remained above reproach in his behavior with his friend’s sister. More or less.

  As they filed into the study, Shane took in the dark paneled walls, the smooth leather chairs and the wide oak desk on top of rich-colored rugs. All that was missing was a sign that read No Gi
rls Allowed.

  Beau dropped into the chair behind his desk, and then kicked his feet on top, crossing his ankles over one another. Hands clasped behind his head, he shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

  Clearly, the man was relishing this moment in his private retreat.

  Unsure what Beau was about, Shane settled into one of the wingback chairs facing the other man and waited.

  It didn’t take long for Beau to open his eyes and settle his gaze on Shane. Although in a seemingly relaxed posture, he’d positioned himself in such a way that there could be no doubt this was not a casual get-together.

  Shane sent up a fervent prayer for guidance. “What’s on your mind, Beau?”

  “Actually.” Beau dropped his feet to the floor and leaned on his desk, pressing his weight on his forearms. “That’s what I’d like to know.”

  Shane considered himself an intelligent man, but no matter how he mulled over Beau’s words, he didn’t understand the question. Was the man talking in some convoluted preacher code? Had Shane missed a portion of the conversation? “Speak clearly.”

  Beau’s gold eyes glittered as he studied Shane in that thorough, patient way that had sinners spilling their guts.

  “How’s this for clear speaking,” Beau said. “What’s on your mind when it comes to my little sister?”

  Shane reared back in his chair. “That was certainly direct.”

  “Are your intentions honorable?”

  Shane fought a hard battle to keep his voice steady. “I have no intentions, honorable or otherwise.” None he cared to share with her big brother, at least.

  “Why not?”

  “Pardon me?”

  Beau settled back into his chair with a grin lifting the corners of his lips. “Why aren’t you pursuing my sister?”

  Shane drew in a hard breath. “Bella is my assistant. It would be inappropriate to pursue her, as you put it.”

  Could he sound any more pompous?

  “Inappropriate. Hmm.” Beau gave him a look just short of insulting. “But holding hands in church is altogether suitable?”