by Ford, Linda
“And what would you prefer me to do?” he asked evenly. “Stand idly by like I did before?”
“No. I...” Her brows drew together. “Can’t you see? I don’t want this...this turmoil in my life. Like everybody else, my parents have their faults, but they want what’s best for me and Abby. If it weren’t for their support, I don’t know how I would’ve made it through the past year and a half. I don’t want to hurt them.”
“And yet, they’re hurting you by putting you in this position.”
“They don’t trust you, Cole. And neither do I.”
“Considering my actions, that’s only fair.” He deserved her anger and mistrust. He’d certainly earned it. Still, he cringed at the words. “Look, the last thing I want is to cause more trouble for you. I came here to release you from our commitment, remember?”
She stilled, her expression unreadable, her eyes watchful.
“But that little girl over there changes everything,” he went on. “She deserves to grow up knowing she’s loved by both her parents. Somehow, we have to find a way to make this work. ’Cause I’m not going anywhere. I won’t abandon my daughter.”
* * *
Hours later, Cole’s words beat a steady rhythm in her head, the finality and conviction with which he’d spoken a clear sign he meant to follow through. He wouldn’t be swayed on this, she knew. Not after the childhood he’d endured. Can you blame him for wanting to be a part of his daughter’s life? an unwelcome voice prodded her. You should be thankful.
Thankful? That was a tall order considering that at this very moment, the news of his homecoming was surely spreading like wildfire through the town. She shuddered.
“What are you thinking about?”
Rachel looked up from her sketch. Megan sat beside her on the pew with her own paper and pen. Together they were compiling a list of props they needed for the pageant. A tiny worry line appeared between her pale brows.
Rachel heaved a sigh. “Cole has returned.”
Megan’s gaze shot to Abby, who was practicing rolling from side to side on her pallet in the aisle. “Does he know about...?” Her big blue eyes filled with compassion.
“Yes.”
“And?” The blond-haired beauty appeared to hold her breath.
“He vows he’s home for good. For Abby’s sake,” she tacked on.
“He wasn’t angry?” she asked, surprised.
“He was at first. He was under the impression that I had his address. He claims to have sent me a letter a couple of months after he left, but I never received it.”
“I wonder what happened to it.”
She shrugged. “It could’ve easily gotten lost.”
“How do you feel about all this?”
“I’m not sure.” At present, her emotions were an impossible tangle. “His being here will make things difficult. At least he’s staying at his ma’s old place across town. I don’t believe I could handle having him around day and night.”
“Do you—” She broke off and shook her head, her curls dancing about her face. “Oh, never mind. It’s none of my business.”
“Whatever it is, you can ask me. We’re friends, remember?”
Growing up, Rachel had had lots of friends. But that was before the scandal, before her marriage to the town outcast. Megan was one of a handful of confidantes who’d remained loyal. She trusted her implicitly.
“In the beginning, I got the impression you were fond of him. I was wondering if those feelings ever changed...if you love him.”
No. Of course she didn’t. He’d made that impossible, maintaining cool distance between them, his steadfast reserve impossible to breach. Only near the end, in the quiet of night, had she experienced any sense of closeness with her husband. Cole had stunned her with his tenderness, the ease with which he made her feel like the most desirable woman on earth. When he left, she banished those memories. They were too painful.
“You don’t have to answer,” Megan rushed to say. “I can see it’s a difficult subject.”
“It’s all right,” she started, only to halt when the church door creaked open.
Both women twisted in the pew to glance back at the alcove. Heavy thuds on the floorboards sounded seconds before an imposing figure turned the corner. Cole’s dark gaze found hers and held.
Her pulse jumped as she stood to her feet. “Cole.” What was he doing here? In church, of all places?
His gaze slid reluctantly to her companion for a split second before returning to her. “I saw your horse outside—” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder “—and thought I’d stop in.”
“Oh. Well. Megan and I were working on the plans for the Christmas Eve presentation.” She motioned to the younger woman standing beside her. “Cole, you remember Megan O’Malley, don’t you?”
His hat in his hands, he slowly advanced, his guard up. “Yes, of course. Pleasure seeing you again, Miss Megan. I trust you and your family are well.”
The O’Malleys were one of a handful of families who hadn’t lumped Cole in with his pa. Instead, they’d gone out of their way to be kind.
Megan’s smile was genuine. “My family is doing exceptionally well, thank you. We’ve recently had two weddings. Juliana and Josh are both married now.”
Sincere pleasure lit his eyes. “Is that right? I look forward to seeing them again.”
“Juliana lives in Cades Cove with her new husband, but Josh and his wife are here. Kate is from New York, and she’s the sweetest thing. Wouldn’t you agree, Rachel?”
“Indeed, she is.” Her thoughts were a jumble as she was still trying to reconcile his presence in this house of worship.
He nodded to their sketches visible on the pew. “How are the plans coming along?”
When Rachel didn’t answer right away, Megan tossed her a curious glance and answered, “Rachel has the costumes well in hand, however, we don’t have any props yet. We need a volunteer to build the larger set pieces.”
“What kind of props?”
“A stable and a manger, for starters.”
He addressed Rachel. “I can do it.”
“You?” Her brows shot to her hairline.
His shoulder kicked up. “I’ve had a lot of experience working with my hands. Building things.”
Not for the first time, she wondered what type of work he’d been doing while he was away. From the looks of his tanned skin and bulked-up frame, it must’ve involved manual labor. Probably outdoors. Not that she planned on asking.
Megan didn’t appear to have any reservations. “Thank you, Cole! We appreciate your willingness to help.” She handed the sketches to Rachel. “Would you mind going over the particulars with him and answering any questions he might have?”
That would mean spending time with him, something she wanted to keep to a minimum. But how could she refuse without seeming petty?
“Uh, sure. No problem.”
Slipping a timepiece from her skirt pocket, Megan frowned as she examined the face. “It’s later than I thought.” She snapped the lid shut and replacing it, began gathering her things. “Nicole’s working on yet another dress, and I promised to help her with the lace trim.” Moving into the aisle, she cooed a sugary farewell to the baby. Then she smiled up at Cole. “Thanks again. And it’s really nice to have you back.”
“I’m happy to do it,” he murmured with his gaze lowered, clearly unaccustomed to such warmth.
“See you in the morning, Rachel,” she called as she swept around the corner.
The door thudded closed and, in her wake, uncomfortable silence blanketed the spacious room. He cleared his throat. “I see there’s a new café in town. Do you want to discuss the projects over coffee?”
He wanted to take her to Plum’s? Smack in the middle of town? Where prying eyes would
watch their every move? She could just imagine the reaction. “No.”
His dark brows drew together at the alarm threading through her voice.
She rushed ahead. “I—I mean, no, thank you. I’m sure we’d get much more accomplished at the cabin. I can make coffee or tea or even hot cocoa, if you’d like.”
“Whatever makes you happy.”
He said it without a trace of sarcasm, but she sensed he knew the real reason she’d discarded his suggestion. Well, too bad. He wasn’t the one who’d been cast aside, unwanted and pregnant, pitied by most and ridiculed by others. No. He’d gone off to the land of sunshine and freedom, wherever that was. He’d gotten a fresh start, while she’d been left to deal with the shattered pieces of her life.
Happy. What was that? Acceptance was a more reasonable goal. Now that he was back, she wondered if she could hold on to even that much.
“Give me a moment to gather Abby’s things.”
Cole strode forward, his reserve slipping as his focus shifted to his daughter. Rachel paused to watch as, setting his hat on the seat, he scooped her up and held her suspended in the air inches from his face. Abby giggled. His wide grin, the unabashed delight spreading across his face, sucked the air from her lungs. She stood transfixed. Here was a rare glimpse of the man behind the mask. The power and truth of the moment twisted something deep inside and she longed to be included, to share in his joy. To be the source of that joy.
But that was a schoolgirl dream. She was rooted firmly in reality. There’d be no happy endings for her.
Deliberately turning away, she picked up her cloak from where she’d draped it over the pew back and wrapped it around her shoulders. Keeping her gaze averted, she brushed past Cole and bent to fold the blankets into a neat bundle.
“Do you need a hand?”
The subdued quality of his voice indicated he had his guard firmly back in place. A depressing thought.
“I have everything,” she retorted, angry at herself for wanting the impossible. She stood too quickly and black spots danced before her eyes. She swayed.
He was at her side in an instant, his hand gentle on her arm, his gloved fingers warm through her thin cotton blouse. “Are you all right?”
He smelled of leather and fresh air. In choosing not to look up, she was confronted with his wide, capable-looking chest, the firm expanse inviting her to rest her head and surrender her troubles. Jerking her arm from his grasp, she stepped back.
“I’m perfectly fine.” Was that breathless voice truly hers?
“Rachel, do you not want my help with your play? Maybe I should’ve asked before I volunteered. I know this isn’t easy for you.”
She looked up then, into his beautiful hazel eyes, searching for hidden meaning. Did he know how his touch affected her? Feeling heat climb into her cheeks, she fervently hoped not. Not only was it embarrassing, it was irrational. Not to mention irresponsible. This man was adept at wreaking havoc in her life.
She was tempted to answer truthfully, that she was not okay with this, but no one else was stepping forward to help out. Time was growing short. If they wanted to have a play, they needed those props.
“The important thing is that the children have what they need.” She held out Abby’s coat. “Do you mind holding her a minute longer while I put this on?”
“Sure.” He held the baby securely in the crook of his arm, slightly away from his body.
Like most babies, Abby didn’t relish being dressed. As Rachel attempted to slip the coat on her without getting too close to Cole, Abby squirmed and stiffened her arms, her small face creasing in protest. At last, Rachel managed all the buttons. Moving quickly, she tugged the dainty white cap down over her dark curls.
“There.”
When she stepped back, Cole was staring at her with quiet approval. “You’re good with her.”
The unexpected praise warmed her inside and out. Every woman needed to hear that sometimes, that someone appreciated her hard work and thought she was doing a good job. To hear it from Cole made it that much more meaningful.
“Thank you,” she murmured, gathering her belongings from the seat. “Shall we go?”
He motioned with his free hand. “After you.”
Exiting the church, she prayed for fortitude. She was a lonely woman, and her husband’s very presence drew her, his obvious strength and physical beauty a distraction from her goal. No matter what, she must always remember the grief he’d inflicted. She wasn’t certain what their future held, but she knew this—she would not grant him the power to hurt her ever again.
Chapter Four
Sitting at Rachel’s table, Cole drained the last of his coffee while balancing Abby on one knee, his left arm curled around her middle to keep her steady. Her chubby little hands, damp from sucking on them, opened and closed over his fingers. Lowering his face, he pressed a kiss to her curls and inhaled her sweet scent. His daughter was warm and wriggly and wonderful. Love like he’d never known expanded in his chest.
But along with the giddy feeling came a powerful urge to protect her from all of life’s sorrows. He wanted to be here for his daughter, to kiss away her hurts and guide her to make better choices than his own. Somehow, he had to convince Rachel that his sticking around was for the best. Their daughter’s well-being was priority.
Lifting his head, he caught his wife’s wary gaze. She’d been reserved and aloof this past hour, almost businesslike in her instructions. He guessed it was because—like him—she was affected by their close proximity and it frightened her. He’d witnessed the flash of longing in her eyes when he’d touched her, a longing that mirrored his own. They were husband and wife, both of them lonely. She was wise to keep her distance. He prayed he would be wise, as well.
Cole didn’t want to do anything to mess this up. One wrong move, and she’d bar him from their lives.
He despised himself for hurting her. He’d been selfish, thinking only about his own need to escape without considering how his leaving would affect her. He wouldn’t do it again.
“I should get going.”
Scooting back his chair, he rose and crossed to Abby’s pallet. But when he lowered her, she arched her back and cried out in protest. He tossed a confused glance at Rachel. What now? He had zero experience with infants.
Rachel rose and placed their empty cups in the dry sink. “I’ll take her. She’s probably getting hungry.”
When he’d delivered her into her arms, he stepped back, reluctant to leave. However, it was nearing supper time, and she hadn’t offered an invitation to share the stew simmering on the cook stove. Cold beans, cornbread and mind-numbing solitude waited at his ma’s cabin.
Beside the door, he shrugged into his duster. “I’ll stop by the lumberyard first thing Monday morning for the supplies.” His fingers made quick work of the buttons. “Will I see you in church tomorrow morning?”
Her brow furrowed. “Church?”
He paused in pulling on his gloves. “Yes. Are you going?”
“Y-yes. You, ah, attend services now?”
Plunging his fingers into the soft deerskin, he tugged the gloves up and over his wrists, then looped his thumbs in his waistband. “About two months ago, I got real sick. Since I don’t have much patience with lying about, I continued to work until one night, I collapsed in the street. An old man by the name of Jebediah Olsen found me and took me in and nursed me back to health.”
Rachel’s blue eyes grew dark with needless worry, trembling fingers covering her mouth. That she cared about his suffering filled the empty spaces in his heart.
“During my recuperation, Ole Jeb read the Scriptures to me. Day and night, he read whether I wanted him to or not. I was irritated at first, but gradually the words began to sink in.” Recalling Jeb’s stubborn kindness, he couldn’t help but smile. “I
realized that without God’s help, I’d never become the man I wanted to be. I’m a believer now. What you’d call a Christ follower.”
Moisture flooded her eyes as a glimmer of a smile tilted up her lips. “I’m thrilled for you, Cole.”
“I’m just glad God placed me in Jeb’s path. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I told him about you. He encouraged me to come and see you one last time. Although I knew it wouldn’t make up for my behavior, I wanted to apologize in person. I intended to release you from any obligation to me. I didn’t think it fair for you to be bound to me for a lifetime, not when this marriage wasn’t what either of us wanted.”
Rachel’s lashes swept down, hiding her eyes. Her skin was pale, her lips colorless. What was she thinking?
“Can you understand why I can’t follow through with it? Why we need to try again?”
“I’m not the one who stopped trying!” She bristled, her slender form quivering with suppressed fury. “I had every intention of honoring my commitment to you. Unlike you, I took my vows seriously. I’ve had no say whatsoever in this marriage, no choice. Well, that’s changed. The past year and a half has shown me that Abby and I can make it just fine on our own. We don’t need you.”
He flinched. “You’re wrong. Abigail needs a father.”
“A father who is steadfast and trustworthy. A father who will never, ever abandon her. You aren’t that man, Cole.”
Closing his eyes against the accusation and disappointment in her expression, he fought to tamp down the roiling sickness in his gut. No stranger to rejection, he’d developed thick skin over the years. And while Rachel had every right to feel this way, it still stung to hear her voice the words.
The tension in the room made it difficult to breathe. When Abby started to cry, Cole settled his hat on his head and stepped to the door. Setting his jaw, he challenged her with his gaze.
“We’ll finish this conversation later.” He hesitated in the open doorway. “Just a warning. I won’t give up easily.”
