He knew he was.
Putting his arms up behind his head, he looked up at the ceiling. He thought back to when he'd been living in Regina during his weeks of training for the RNWMP force. He'd gone there determined to make a difference for the Indian tribes living in the North, full of optimism for his future. However, even then, he’d found it difficult to let the other men know of his mixed blood. He knew there were many who wouldn't have accepted him. That's just the way the world around them was. A man could be judged by his background, and Preston had worked hard to avoid having anyone find out.
He could still remember the shame he'd felt that day when his parents arrived to surprise him with a visit. By then, he was engaged to Lizzy Parker, a debutante from one of the oldest families in Regina. He'd loved everything about her, and he'd been sure he couldn't have been happier than he was at that time. He was about to become a Mountie, and marry the most beautiful woman in the world.
Until she'd met his father and found out the truth.
She'd angrily told him she couldn't marry a man with Indian blood and had left him standing to face his father who'd heard the entire exchange. Cringing as he remembered how furious he'd been at his parents for showing up unannounced, he wished he could go back and do everything about that day over.
His father never spoke about it after that, but Preston knew how hurt he'd been that he’d tried to hide his heritage.
Pushing his hand through his hair, he silently berated himself that he’d let the pain of how Lizzy had left him keep him trapped inside, not wanting to tell people the truth of who he was. Seeing how she'd reacted, only worked to reinforce his worry of how others would treat him.
Why should he care so much? The elders and the people of his father's tribe had always been kind to him, even if they had a hard time accepting his white blood. They were more forgiving than his mother's white family had been; they'd completely disowned and shunned her after she married his father.
He knew who his grandfather was. Someday he planned to show up on the old man's doorstep and tell him exactly what he thought of how he'd treated his daughter, and his grandson too for that matter.
Suddenly, a scream broke through his thoughts. He jumped up and let his eyes move around the room as he made his way over to where Maryanne was sleeping. She screamed again, her head flailing back and forth on the pillow.
Reaching out, he put his hand on her shoulder. "Maryanne. Wake up. You're just having a dream."
"No! I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." The words broke from her chest in a wail that tore at his heart.
He pulled her into his arms, once more calling out her name, desperate to wake her.
When she finally woke, he could feel the tension and fear in her body. She trembled as she slowly became fully aware of where she was.
"It's all right, Maryanne. It's just me, Preston. I'm here."
He climbed in behind her and pulled her back into his arms, letting her head fall back onto his chest. He stroked her hair, and soon her breathing became calmer. He held his arms tightly around her as she fell back into a quiet slumber.
He wasn't sure if she'd even been aware that he was there or not, but one thing he knew for sure was that he’d spend his life making sure he never felt the terror in her body like he'd felt tonight.
He might not be the most suitable husband Maryanne could have found, but he knew without a doubt, he'd be a man she could count on.
He hoped that would be enough for her.
Chapter 10
Maryanne let her eyes open slowly, not wanting the dream to end. In it, she was resting peacefully, cradled in Preston's arms as they slept. Turning slightly, she realized there was something underneath her arm.
Suddenly, her eyes flew open and she struggled to sit up. She really was lying in Preston's arms. Her elbow slipped and came down hard on his stomach, and he let out a groan as her head whipped around to see his eyes open. But before she could get away, his arms tightened their hold around her and pulled her back down.
"Maryanne, if you don't mind, I'd appreciate if you don't break any of my ribs while you try to jump out of bed."
What was happening? How was he in bed with her?
"I'm…I'm sorry. I'm just…not sure…"
His chest rumbled beneath her shoulders as he laughed softly. "You had a bad dream last night. That's all." His fingers started trailing through the silky strands of hair next to her ear as he spoke. "Although you do remember I'm your husband, right? Finding me in your bed really shouldn't be so shocking."
She gasped, sitting up to turn and look at him. As she did, her hand came down on his stomach again, making him grimace with pain. "Ouch! Can you please just sit still? I haven't even had coffee yet and you've already given me more bruises than I've had in a lifetime."
Carefully, she let herself sit back against him as she tried to calm her racing heart. "I highly doubt that, Preston. You look like the sort of man who's been in a few scrapes in his time."
What was she doing, calmly sitting here discussing how many fights her husband has likely been in while lying in his arms in bed? She was sure she must still be sleeping.
He laughed again, and she smiled to herself at the huskiness of the sound. "That may be true, but I assure you, it's never been my fault."
They sat for a moment in silence and she let herself just enjoy the feeling of being held in his arms. She'd never had anyone just hold her before, and she reveled in the feeling of having someone take care of her.
"Do you want to tell me what you were dreaming about? You were screaming loud enough to have the wolves calling back to you, thinking you were one of them."
She swallowed, not wanting to bring the memories back into her mind. But as his fingers caressed the skin on her neck, she felt all of her defenses coming down. Somehow, she knew being in his arms would keep her safe.
"It was just the same dream I always have. It's the day of my sister's accident, and every time I try so hard to make things happen differently. But I can't."
He didn't say anything, just continued to move his fingers over her skin as he let her talk. "I was twelve, and I should have known better. Eliza followed me everywhere, and I was just so annoyed with her. I was tired of everyone always making such a fuss over her, and people thinking she was more beautiful than any other child they'd ever seen. That day was worse because I remember the nice couple who had come into the store. They'd made such a fuss over her and even bought her a candy from the jar on the counter. They hadn't even noticed me standing there. I was just so angry with her that day, even though it wasn't her fault."
The words tumbled out of her mouth.
She struggled against the lump forming in her throat. She'd never spoken about that day with anyone. And she'd certainly never told anyone how she'd been feeling before it happened. She'd been too ashamed and had let the guilt of that day eat at her soul for the past eleven years.
But Preston patiently waited for her to continue, not rushing or forcing her to continue if she didn't want to. His chest rose and fell beneath her as he breathed, listening to every word she spoke.
"I ran to the train yard on the next street over. Our parents had always told us to stay away from there because it was so busy, and there were train cars being moved all the time. I didn't care, though, I just wanted to get away from her so I thought it would be a good place to hide. Of course, she followed me."
Her pulse started to pick up as she remembered everything like it was yesterday. Of course, every detail was still fresh because she'd played it over and over in her mind every day since.
"I yelled at her that I hated her and that just because everyone thought she was so cute, it didn't mean I had to like her." Her voice cracked as she heard her twelve-year-old voice screaming the words. "I climbed up on top of one of the train cars in the yard, thinking she'd be too scared to follow me up there. She couldn't understand why I was so mad, and I can still hear her crying and telling me to just wait for her
."
She had to take a minute to catch her breath. Reaching up, she brushed away a tear that had somehow snuck down her cheek. Even though it was hard saying these words out loud, she knew it was time to take the burden off her chest. Preston was her husband now, so surely he could handle hearing how horrible she'd been that day.
"She did follow me. And when she got to the top, I yelled at her again that I was just so tired of her following me everywhere and to just leave me alone. I went to go past her and as I did, she tried to grab my arm. But I pulled it away, and she missed."
Her voice caught in a sob and she brought both her hands up to cover her face in shame.
Preston's arms wrapped around her tighter, pulling her in as close as he could as he placed his chin on her head. "And that's when she fell?" he asked her the question softly, with no judgment or scorn in his voice.
She nodded, letting the tears flow behind the shelter of her hands.
He let her cry while he held her. The tears she'd cried ever since the accident had never seemed to offer her any solace from the pain in her heart. Yet, as she let them run freely down her cheeks, lying there in Preston's arms, she felt some of the hurt starting to ease.
Finally, she was able to find her voice again. "Sometimes, I dream that after the accident, everyone is so angry with me. I know they should have been, but even my sister never blamed me. In my dreams, though, I can hear my father telling me it should have been me. I even sometimes see the couple who were in the store that day as they point their fingers at me and say it was my fault, and that at least if it had been me, no one would have had to suffer."
He groaned low in his throat and brought his head down to rest on her shoulder, never loosening his grip as he held her. "Maryanne, you know that's not true. And you know the accident wasn't your fault. You can't keep blaming yourself."
She wanted to believe him, as she'd wanted to believe her sister and her parents, and everyone else who'd told her the same thing a hundred times since then. But it didn't make it easier.
"You didn't push her, and you didn't force her to follow you. What happened was nothing more than an accident, and nothing you could have done would have changed that. You can't spend your life feeling guilt for your thoughts you had that day, or for the fact that you were there when she fell. You need to let go of all of that pain and understand that none of it was your fault."
The weight of carrying all of those thoughts around on her own for so long was suddenly starting to let up. She couldn't remember when she'd ever had even a moment of believing it wasn't her fault. Yet, as Preston spoke in her ear, gently telling her words that had never broken through her wall before, she found herself starting to hear them.
This man who'd been a stranger to her just over a week ago had somehow managed to find the words that helped ease some of her pain. Maybe if she'd ever had the courage to speak them before she wouldn't have carried everything around on her own for so long.
But somehow, she knew that it had to be the right person listening to her, and helping her to feel safe enough to open up. And that person was Preston.
Chapter 11
After the morning she'd poured her heart out to him, she'd been afraid how things would be between them. But Preston hadn't ever made her feel ashamed for how she'd opened up or for what she'd revealed. In fact, she was certain it had brought them even closer. Her cheeks burned as she remembered that night when he'd told her he wasn't sleeping on the floor anymore. He'd said he wanted theirs to be a true marriage, and as the memories flooded in, she could feel the familiar tug in her heart that always seemed to happen when she thought about Preston.
Now it was nearing the middle of November and as she looked out the window at the falling snow, she hugged her arms to herself and leaned against the pane. A few weeks ago, she couldn't have imagined her life having led her here. She'd just lost her sister and she was sure her heart could never be whole again. All she'd ever known were the walls inside the mercantile and the streets of Ottawa.
She knew she'd always have a place that still carried the scars from everything that happened. But right now, here with Preston, she felt like she could possibly have the happiness she'd only dreamed about before.
He still kept himself a bit closed off from her, but she hoped with time he might be able to care for her as much as she was starting to feel for him. She'd never been in love before, so she wasn't sure if that's what it was or not. All she knew was that when he was around, her heart felt whole.
As she watched, the man she was thinking about emerged from the darkness of the evening sky, with the white of the snow falling around his shoulders. Her heart skipped a beat and she hurried to the door to open it for him.
He was grinning as he pushed a package behind him to hide from her eyes. "Just let me get through the door. I have something for you."
She tried to peek behind him, but he wouldn't let her see. "What is it?"
"If you'd let me get inside, I'd show you." He laughed as he tried to shrug out of his jacket, closing the door behind him.
When he was finished, he faced her and put his hands out in front of him. He had something wrapped in brown paper and tied together with brown twine. "It's nothing fancy, but I wanted you to have something warm."
She tugged on the string and undid the knot, then pulled the paper back. Her eyebrows came together in confusion as she tried to see what it was.
"I went to see the Indian women from the village a while ago to see if they could make you a warm coat to get through the winter up here. I knew you only had that sweater." He pointed over to the hook by the door where her old, tattered sweater hung. He smiled and continued. "All of the women were eager to help, saying how you've been so kind to them and how you've been making blankets for them."
She pulled it out and held it in front of her. The jacket was made of the softest leather and furs she'd ever seen. She could go out in this coat and never feel the cold. She brought the soft fur to her face and rubbed it along her skin. "It's beautiful. Thank you so much for thinking of me, Preston. I love it."
He looked like a little boy as he stood there smiling at her. "Try it on and make sure it fits. The women assured me they could tell your size just by looking at you. They all think you are a wonderful woman. I was almost afraid a fight would break out as they all vied for the chance to work on this coat for you."
She put her arms in the sleeves and wrapped the warm fabric around her. She'd never owned anything quite so luxurious. Well, she knew it might not be considered fashionable or luxurious in the high society of Ottawa, but here in the Yukon Territory, wearing this jacket made her feel like a princess.
"It's perfect." She twirled around to let him see.
His eyes stayed on her and he came over to her, taking her hands in his as she spun back to face him. "Yes, it is." He smiled down at her as he pulled her close to him. His head leaned down, and he gripped each side of the collar as his lips found hers.
Just when she was sure her knees were going to give out beneath her, a knock on the door interrupted them. "I swear, I'm going to knock Wesley flat on his back one of these days. He has the worst timing imaginable."
He scowled in the direction of the door, still holding on to the sides of her jacket. "Maybe if we ignore him, he'll go away."
She laughed and pushed at his hands. "You better go see what he wants. I'm sure he wouldn't just be stopping for a visit. He must have a reason." She pulled out of his arms and moved toward the door. Preston followed close behind her, muttering something under his breath about the man better be on fire.
Opening the door, she gasped loudly and stepped back at the large figure standing on the other side. His hair hung down past his neck, and he was wearing furs wrapped around his wide shoulders. He towered over her, and she knew he had to be taller than Preston. She'd seen many of the Indian men around the village, but she knew she'd never seen this man. She would have remembered him.
She backed up, and immed
iately felt Preston reach out and pull her back behind him slightly as he faced the intimidating man staring at them. Her heart pounded in her ears. She'd never been afraid of the Indian men around here, but this man scared her.
Preston's voice reached her ears, just as the man smiled. He had the same smile as her husband.
"Hello, Father."
He turned his head slightly and saw the look of shock on Maryanne's face. Her skin was as white as the snow falling around his father's shoulders. With a sinking feeling, he knew he should have told her the truth and taken his chances. It wasn't like she could really leave him now anyway. They were already married.
But he knew he'd never force her to stay with him if she ended up feeling the same way Lizzy did. He couldn't live with a woman who looked at him with disdain. The words Lizzy had thrown at him that day about being "one of those savages" still stung, and he knew if he heard anything like that from Maryanne it would hurt even more.
As he watched the emotions cross her face, while she glanced at him then back to his father, Preston waited for the look of disdain he knew would be coming.
"You're Preston's father?" Her voice was shaky and quiet as she spoke.
"I’m Daniel Hawking. And yes, I'm Preston's father. I'd say by the look on your face you weren't quite expecting me. Or, should I say, expecting someone like me." His father's eyes pinned his as he raised his eyebrows in question.
Finally finding his voice again, he took Maryanne's hand and pulled her slightly forward. "Father, this is Maryanne, my wife."
"Oh, I'd already heard about you getting married. News travels fast through the Indian tribes up here. Your mother doesn't know whether to be happy you found yourself a wife, or angry you didn't wait to let us be here for your wedding."
Preston cringed slightly as he realized his mother would likely have a few words to say to him. "Where is she? You never go anywhere without her."
RNWMP: Bride for Preston (Mail Order Mounties Book 6) Page 5
