His cousin was right about one thing―he’d do whatever it took to protect Corinne. If that meant giving up his ranch … could he?
He turned his head, unable to continue looking at Matt.
On their wedding day, he’d vowed to provide, he’d vowed to give her a share of his profit, but he couldn’t do either without a ranch.
God, what should I do?
He couldn’t allow Matt to shame her publicly in a town where gossips like Mrs. Tate resided. For how, then, could he ask her to stay with him on the ranch where she’d be shunned every time she went to town?
He might get a charge of blackmail to stick, but it’s not as if the court could muzzle his cousin―Matt could ruin Corinne in a second.
Plus, the accusations aired in court would not only be detrimental to Corinne but to the ranch. Under oath, he’d have to acknowledge the truth of the agreement Matt found. Since he’d always touted his integrity, if people thought he’d intended to defraud his own cousin, who’d do business with him anymore?
His whole body went limp. He’d have to give up the ranch.
He summoned up the strength to glare at Matt. “You’re despicable.”
Matt shrugged. “I’m not as bad as you or Dad think I am. But since I’ve lost his favor and didn’t have enough time to shore up my coffers before he kicked me out, I have to start somewhere. I don’t get Lilith’s money until we marry. So here’s what I’ll do.” He crouched beside Nolan and put his hand on the wheelchair’s armrest as if he cared.
“I’ll let you buy the ranch from me. You give me what it’s worth, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
As much as he wanted to spit in Matt’s eye at his so-called generosity, Nolan spoke through gritted teeth instead. “No good. I don’t have enough money.”
“A pity.” Matt’s frown looked genuine. He likely would’ve preferred the cash. “Then it seems you’ve only got this week before your three months are up and I get the place. Whether or not you want to fight me over the ranch, why don’t you think about divorcing her? Then you won’t be stuck with a woman you only married to keep the ranch from me.”
“No,” he spat. “A vow is a vow.”
But what if she wished to be free? Why would she want to remain bound to him if he had nothing she wanted?
“Let me remind you, if you contest the obvious evidence I have of you defrauding me, I’ll tell the world who Corinne is. I’m sure you know as well as I do that when Dad finds out, he’ll no longer be interested in working with her. If he informs his investors―which you know he will―she’ll never sell a thing.”
He patted Nolan’s leg, and it was all Nolan could do not to sock him in the head.
“Or you could sign over the deed, and I’ll be nice and keep things to myself. Then you can ride your wife’s coattails in Denver―hopefully her little projects can keep you afloat.”
“How magnanimous.” Nolan gripped his chair harder to keep from launching himself at his cousin. “And how do you propose I explain why I’d do such a thing?”
Matt pointed at Nolan’s bandaged foot. “Your injury plus your wife’s golden opportunity made you realize you shouldn’t hold on to something you can’t handle.”
Nolan caught Corinne looking at him from over Matt’s shoulder, a worried furrow marring her brow.
Matt glanced behind him, likely seeing Corinne was about to head over. “I’ll leave you to think things through. But don’t take too long, cousin, or I’ll be forced to share what I know with others.” Matt stood, patted Nolan’s shoulder as if they’d had a good talk, and walked off.
Corinne watched Matt walk away before coming over.
Nolan tilted his head back and let out one long breath. He needed to collect himself before she―
“What were you and Matt talking about?”
How could he tell her? “He was being his usual, arrogant self.”
“You look tired. Do we need to go home?”
“No, enjoy your time with friends. I just … I shouldn’t have left the house this morning.” Not that doing so would’ve stopped any of this.
“I did want to talk to a few more people before I … I leave with your uncle.”
A dagger sliced through his abdomen. Why had that hurt so badly when it was now exactly what she needed to do?
Corinne’s eyes looked uncertain as she chewed on her bottom lip, so he nodded to let her know he’d heard because he couldn’t trust his voice.
A minute passed, making him afraid he’d have to attempt to say something, but then she let out a loud exhale.
“I suppose I’ll say my last goodbyes and get us home so I can pack. Matthias is insisting we leave tomorrow and I could be gone for weeks. He wants to get the tickets early, and so…”
Nolan closed his eyes, listening to her rattle off a well-planned itinerary along with a list of things she needed to take with her to Denver. No declaration of how she’d prefer to stay, that she’d miss him, that she wanted him to come along―no hint of any romantic feelings.
Her no-nonsense practicality should’ve made him happy. He’d married her specifically because she was this way.
And he wouldn’t beg her to reconsider. He wanted her to be happy, and if that didn’t include him…
Her chatter faded, and he opened his eyes. She seemed to be waiting for him to respond.
Hoping his voice wouldn’t waver, he forced out words. “I trust you to do whatever needs doing.”
Her chest heaved. “All right, I’ll let Leah know I’m going and say my goodbyes.” Corinne nodded, stood, and then marched over to Leah.
After listening to Corinne for a few minutes, Leah glanced over at him, but turned right back to Corinne and gave her a hug before his wife headed into the crowd.
Leah started his way, a frown marring her scarred face, and he braced himself.
“Mr. Key, may I have a word with you?”
“If you’d like, Mrs. Whitsett, but I’m afraid―”
“I know I don’t know you very well, but I’m beholden to your wife for what she’s done for me. I want what’s best for her, so I’m worried about her going off to Denver with you two only be married a few months. It sounds like she intends to work there for quite a while.”
He looked up into what he could see of her eyes, hooded by drooping eyelids. “I understand your concern, but—”
“It’s hard enough to be separated when you’ve been together for decades, but considering how you two married so quickly, I just want to be sure you know what you’re doing.”
He couldn’t look at her any longer. She was likely right, but what could he tell her without divulging more than he ought?
Only God could help them out of this mess. But then, was that not true all the time?
God knew Nolan would lose his leg. He knew Dad would force him to marry. He knew Corinne’s hands would convince her to give up the laundry. He knew to what lengths Matt would go to get the ranch.
He’d have to trust God to do as He saw fit―which right now seemed to require him to give up all he’d ever wanted. “As I said, I appreciate your concern, Mrs. Whitsett, but this seems the best way forward for us at the moment.”
Leah laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll pray for you.”
He reached up to squeeze her hand. “Thank you.”
After she walked away, he bowed his head.
No matter what I’d thought before, Dad was right. I’d needed someone.
Maybe it wasn’t a wife. Maybe what I’d needed all along was a good kick in the head―or ankle―to make me realize that no matter how well I’ve compensated, I’ve needed to trust you instead of me. That no matter how much blood and sweat I spill, if you don’t will it…
In my own way, I’m no better than Matt. I’ve thought myself far more capable than I am.
He needed to free himself from his foolish vow to personally provide for Corinne and seek out how God would have them survive. He could give up the ranch without a fight if it me
ant Corinne escaped unscathed, but he’d have to cling to God’s grace to get them by.
And in case Matt didn’t keep his promise, it’d be best if Corinne was far, far from here.
God, please keep Matt’s mouth shut. Corinne’s already going to suffer financially because of me. I couldn’t bear being responsible for her losing her reputation and dreams, too.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“I’ll take that, ma’am.”
The porter held out his hands after tossing the last of Uncle Matthias’s luggage to the other porter waiting to shuffle off their items to the baggage car. Corinne handed him her large carpetbag, keeping the smaller one in hand. Though the platform was crowded and the train was chuffing, the silence was crushingly heavy.
Beside her, Nolan said nothing, quiet like he’d been all week. And yet, his silence had somehow amplified since yesterday’s picnic.
It was as if he were cutting all ties, even vocal ones.
Matthias clamped a hand onto Nolan’s shoulder. “I’m sure you two would like to say goodbye without me around. I’ll see you inside, Corinne.”
He took a step but scowled.
She looked over her shoulder and spotted Matt departing the depot, satchel in hand. She was tempted to scowl, too, despite Uncle Matthias already telling him he wasn’t welcome to sit with them. How inconvenient to have Matt choose to leave on the same day they were.
Matthias remained rooted where he was as his son mounted the train’s steps. Before Matt entered the car, he turned to give Nolan a look, as if asking a silent question.
She turned in time to see her husband nod, his expression more submissive than annoyed.
What was that about?
She might’ve asked, but she doubted Nolan would answer with anything beyond the “don’t worry” he’d been parroting lately.
The train let off steam with a deafening whistle.
“Don’t be long.” Matthias gave Nolan a slight wave before lumbering off across the platform.
For some strange reason, Nolan pushed himself up out of his chair.
“What―”
He held out a hand to stay her comment or maybe to ward off help as he struggled to stand upright. He took a shuffle step toward the low wooden wall bordering the platform and leaned against it.
She shook her head at him. He shouldn’t be putting weight on his foot, and yet, it was nice not to be looking down at him.
His eyes held a mountain of words he seemed unwilling to share.
She furtively wiped at the corner of her right eye. He’d at least tell her goodbye, right?
His throat worked, but the silence continued.
“I guess this is it.” She fiddled with her bag’s handle, unsure how to take leave of him. They’d worked so well together, but these past few days, it felt as if he’d set her on a raft and pushed her to sea.
Nolan looked ready to cry, but surely not. She was simply reading in emotions she wished were there.
If only it weren’t unladylike to give him a good, swift kick to the shin. How dare he force her to stand here and yet say nothing that made her want to stay.
She nodded, and he nodded back, finally seeming to stir.
“Godspeed, Corinne. I’m sure you’ll do better than fine in Denver.” He reached over and touched her arm. “Don’t worry about what happens here.”
Would he give her nothing more than an arm squeeze? Only weeks ago, he’d trailed his fingers across her shoulders, rubbed her arms, and put a hand to her lower back so often she’d been driven to distraction.
Seemed he was severing himself from her completely, body, mind, and soul. Would he not even tell her he’d miss her?
She sniffed hard. “Goodbye, Nolan. I’ll write to let you know how things are going.”
He nodded and she couldn’t look at him anymore, so she took off across the platform.
Marching down the train car aisle, she blinked away the blurriness, trying to remember what Uncle was wearing since the sea of men was merging together in a watery mess. She would not cry in front of Uncle. He’d send her back if he thought her weak.
Catching a glimpse of Matthias’s gray felt hat, she forged forward and took the seat directly across from him since the rows all faced each other in sets. Hopefully she wouldn’t get ill riding backwards.
The windows were all open, stirring the sticky, gritty summer air, but she could barely breathe.
Nolan was still leaning against the platform’s wooden border. His eyes latched onto hers the second he saw her, his hands clenched at his sides.
If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought he was glaring at his mortal enemy. But standing was likely making his pain unbearable. He shouldn’t have gotten out of his chair.
His chest heaved, but his stiff posture returned quickly.
Had she only imagined he’d moved?
When the train blew its departing whistle, he didn’t flinch, nor look away, even when steam enveloped him.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. He’ll be waiting for you when you come back.”
She tore her gaze from the hazy platform. “I’m not so sure. He’ll be at his ranch, yes, but waiting for me?”
Uncle pshawed. “Of course he will. If Nolan’s one thing, he’s absolutely rigid when it comes to promises. If he makes a vow, he’ll keep it―unlike other people I know.”
“That’s not―” She clamped her mouth shut. Nolan hadn’t promised to be waiting. He’d promised she could live her life as she wished, but Uncle wouldn’t believe that.
Matthias leaned over and patted her knee. “Don’t worry your pretty little head. As much as I chide him for his rigidness, it’s a good thing, especially for you.”
The steam dissipated as it rolled out over town, and she caught sight of Nolan again, still standing, watching as the train chugged haltingly forward.
When they moved far enough away she could no longer make out his eyes, she could still feel them, more than she did the sway of the train as they gained speed.
What message was he trying to impart? Why stand there so long if he hadn’t had anything to say to her?
Of course, what if he couldn’t say it?
Absolutely rigid when it comes to promises… She’d made him promise to forgo all romantic nonsense, and he’d agreed.
What if he’d been afraid she’d view whatever he wanted to say as a broken promise?
Though he was now only a speck, he still stood rooted in that spot.
“Excuse me, I see a fellow I think I know. I’ll be back.” Matthias sidled out into the aisle.
She nodded her acknowledgment, then looked down at the handle of her carpetbag, which she was gripping too hard.
Nolan loved her―after that one night, it’d been clear―but their relationship had taken a tumble the next morning. She’d been angry at him, his uncle had upended their world, and then the fire and his ankle. He’d let her make all the decisions, and yet now he stood rooted to the platform as if he would literally be right there, waiting, until she came back.
She tucked more of her skirt beneath her, despite the extra cushioning doing little to make her comfortable on the hard seat. How was she going to survive the hours to Denver? If only she could’ve left Nolan on better terms.
Pulling out her notebook to distract herself, she flipped the pages, looking for a blank sheet. A folded piece of paper and a thick envelope stopped her progress.
Her fingers trembled as she unfolded the letter, recognizing Nolan’s handwriting. Perhaps he’d been silent because he’d said what he wanted to in a letter―which only made her heart pump all the more. If he couldn’t say it to her face…
Corinne,
I’m having difficulty knowing where to start, but I apologize for the strange place I’ve put us in. I know you’re uncomfortable with what this pretend marriage has turned into, and I’ll harbor no ill will toward you if you choose not to return to me. As I promised when I proposed this arrangement, you can choose how yo
u live.
She pinched the bridge of her nose to keep from crying. She’d hoped he’d cared enough about her that he wouldn’t want to be parted for long.
But did he wish to be parted forever?
She breathed in, trying to fortify herself to continue, for she wasn’t certain she could bear to read the rest.
…I want you to know I have faith in you. Uncle will soon realize he was a fool to ever think your being a woman was any sort of detriment. I’m including an envelope of money for you to invest in whichever endeavor you think has the most promise. No matter what happens, please send me that first catalog containing your inventions, circling them so I can talk up your products to whomever I meet.
Please don’t let your vows to me hinder you from doing great things. For as long as I’m able, thirty-five percent of my profits are yours, but I’m afraid all you can count on to finance your dreams may be what’s inside the envelope—though you’ll likely not need it. You don’t need a man to help make your dreams come true. You’ll find a way no matter what happens. Which should come as no surprise to anyone if they’ve taken the time to get to know you. Uncle’s a bit hard-headed and might try to talk you into seeing things his way, but I trust him to do right by you, just stick to your guns. If he doesn’t treat you fairly, write me and I’ll call him out.
She let out a sad little chuckle, certain he would if she wanted him to.
I eagerly await that catalog,
Nolan
With a shuddery breath, she set his letter aside to check the envelope. Her eyes widened with every bill she counted. If she recalled correctly, everything in his savings account was now in her hands.
She stared at both the letter and cash in her lap. Why did he write as if he were resigned that she’d leave him? As if their pretend marriage—which wasn’t so pretend anymore—had been a mistake? Was this his way of letting her know he didn’t wish for her to return?
The only thing that had made her put one foot in front of the other this morning was the thought of returning and fixing whatever was wrong between them once she’d given Matthias and his investors what they needed to start manufacturing―if they even chose to back her.
Pretending to Wed Page 29
