For a few seconds Will sat very still. Then he covered his mouth and coughed a few times. When he looked at her again, Blythe imagined she saw a glint of humor in his eyes. Silly notion! He wouldn’t know humor if it walked up and slapped him in the face.
“Uh... Banjo is my dog,” he explained. “Rachel told me you went to the farm to feed him and he followed you home.”
Blythe felt her face flame and resisted the impulse to place her hands against her hot cheeks. How embarrassing! He must think she was a fool. Most people did, it seemed. “Yes, he did. I’m sorry. I tried and tried to make him go back, and he just wouldn’t go.”
“He can be a bit hardheaded,” Will admitted. “Is he okay?”
“Oh, yes. He seems fine, and he eats well.” She gave a little shrug. “I’m not familiar with dogs, so I can’t say for sure. He’s staying in the carriage house.”
Silence reigned in the room for a few seconds. “Thank you for checking on him.”
“You’re welcome.”
There was another lull in the stilted conversation while Will stared at Blythe and she stared at the floor and chewed on her lower lip.
“What did he do when you first went out?” he said at last.
Blythe recalled the sheer terror and determination she’d felt the afternoon she’d gone out to his place and climbed down from the buggy.
“Well, I was afraid he’d tear me limb from limb,” she told him. “But when I got out of the carriage and tossed him some ham fat, he was fine.”
“That’s probably the best thing you could have done. He’s not really a mean dog, just very protective of his territory. His size alone keeps most people at a distance,” Will said.
Indeed. An unexpected image of herself as she must have looked, flat on her back, being held down by the huge animal, flashed through her mind. She clamped her lips together to suppress a smile, wondering what his owner would have said had he been there. She imagined it would have been amusing to anyone watching.
“Is something funny?”
“Not really,” she said. “At least not when it happened. I was furious, actually!”
“What did happen?”
“He knocked me down. Banjo.”
“He did what? When?”
“That first day. I guess he got impatient for his supper, and as soon as I got down from the buggy, he jumped up and put his paws on my shoulders. The next thing I knew, I was on my back and he was licking me in the face.”
Recalling the disgusting slobber and his dreadful breath, she gave a little shudder. There was nothing funny about that. “It was really, really horrible.”
Will looked appalled. “Blast that miserable mutt,” he said and then mumbled something beneath his breath. “Look, Miss Granville, I can’t tell you how sorry I am for causing you so much trouble.”
“Please don’t concern yourself about it. I think he may be getting fond of me.”
“He must be if he followed you home. He doesn’t take to many people so fast.”
The topic of the dog talked out, silence ruled again. Blythe knew he was staring at her, but she kept her gaze fixed anywhere but on him. It was time to go, she thought. She’d done what she’d come to do, so there was no reason to prolong the agony for either of them.
Surprising herself, she dared to glance at him and heard herself say, “You must be feeling much improved. You’re more alert and you look much...better.”
He gave a disgruntled snort and scrubbed a palm over his hairy cheek and chin. The utterly masculine gesture caused a little hitch in her breathing.
“I imagine I look like a hobo off the train. But I am feeling better,” he said.
“Someone said you had pneumonia.”
“The old Wolf Creek grapevine, huh?”
“Well, yes.”
At the conversation’s casual turn to the two of them being the prime topic of the talk around town, they both grew very still.
“Yes,” he said, breaking the awkward silence. “Rachel says that if you hadn’t happened by, I might not have made it. Thank you.”
The two simple words sounded genuine and he looked sincere.
“Then I’m glad I came along when I did,” she told him, a little surprised to realize that despite her present circumstances, she meant it. How could she be sorry for playing the Good Samaritan and doing what the Lord expected of her, what she expected of herself? She clasped her hands together.
“Well, I should be going. I just wanted to check on you and let you know your dog is fine.”
“I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble,” he said again, repeating his previous words almost verbatim.
“Oh, Banjo isn’t really a problem,” she assured him.
“I’m not just talking about Banjo, Miss Granville. I’m talking about all the trouble.”
* * *
Will saw all the color drain from her face. She seemed to actually wilt. Her brown eyes drifted closed and she pressed her lips together in a prim line. Which was a crying shame, Will thought. Lips as pretty as hers should never do anything but smile. Berating himself for thinking of her in such a personal way and for finding anything about her attractive, he watched as she straightened her small frame and lifted her round chin, changing from a shy woman to one of confidence and dignity. Unlike Martha’s quick change in attitude from anger to victim, the transformation in Blythe’s demeanor was impressive, something no doubt passed on from generation to generation of well-heeled young ladies.
“There’s no need to trouble yourself, Mr. Slade,” she assured him in a clipped, no-nonsense tone as she raked an errant strand of brown hair behind her ear. “I’ve become accustomed to dealing with things of this nature. The people who know me will accept the truth, and those who don’t...well, some people refuse to let the facts of a situation alter their viewpoint. I’m sure it will all go away eventually.”
Become accustomed? Will thought, once more admiring her poise. No one should have to become accustomed to being the subject of everyone’s dinnertime conversation. She was right about the rest, though. Why was it that most people seemed to want to believe the worst?
“The preacher and your brother think that I should—”
“I’ve heard what they think,” she interrupted. “And I well remember your answer.”
Will had no memory of anything he’d said at his place, but knowing it must not have been good, he felt the heat of embarrassment rising in his face. “It’s nothing against you, Miss Granville,” he told her. “It’s just that my first marriage wasn’t a very good one, and at this point in my life I don’t think it’s anything I’m ready to try again, which I’m sure you of all people can understand.”
The barest hint of a cynical smile lifted one corner of her mouth, but there was no denying the mortification in her eyes. “Indeed I do.”
“So you understand my position,” he stated.
If possible, she grew even paler. “Yes.”
Will hated that the situation was making her life more difficult, but, short of marriage, he had no idea how to fix things.
“Please don’t worry about me, Mr. Slade,” she told him. “I know my brother and half the town expects you to marry me to save my reputation, but I see no reason why you should pay the piper for a choice I made. I’m a grown woman, and I weighed the pros and cons before I made my decision.”
That revelation was a surprise and more than a little humbling. “You decided to stay, knowing there was the possibility it would put you in a bad light again?”
She nodded. “It seemed to me that it was the Christian thing to do,” she told him. “And, besides, I really didn’t have much choice. It was clear that you needed help, and just as clear that I couldn’t get back to town.” She gave a slight lift of her narrow shoulders. “Word gets out and
people talk. It’s the way things are.”
“I guess I’m wondering why you made that choice, especially since you came here trying to escape similar circumstances.”
“That’s why.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, frowning. “I’m afraid I’m confused.”
The jaded smile on her lips was out of place on her innocent-looking face. “Since I was already the talk of the town, I didn’t see how things could get any worse. Besides,” she added, “I hate storms and the dark. I couldn’t imagine riding to town for help in the middle of a thunderstorm in the dead of night. I’m not familiar with the area and I was afraid I’d get lost. And there was the small problem of you being far too ill for me to leave, even for a couple of hours.”
Maybe because he wanted so badly to receive absolution, Will thought her rationale made a certain kind of sense. The sort of “what have I got to lose?” mind-set. Blythe Granville was nothing like he expected her to be, and she was far different from the picture she presented to the world.
She was, in fact, a study in contradictions. She’d dealt with a dog that was known to chase away strangers. That in itself was beyond belief. Banjo and Martha had tolerated each other at best. By all appearances, Blythe was a spoiled, rich girl who’d somehow managed to get a man twice her size out of the woods and into a safe, dry place and in doing so had not only put her reputation in jeopardy but poured fuel onto the fire of the scandal she’d left Boston to escape.
He’d have expected the debacle with the bigamist husband would have embittered her, but that didn’t seem the case. Either she’d been brought up to be an independent thinker, which was unusual for young women—especially wealthy young women—or the incident had forced her to view the world from a different perspective.
“Except it has, hasn’t it?” he asked.
“I beg your pardon.”
“Made things worse,” he said, spreading his hands wide. “This thing with us.”
Her chin lifted a fraction. “A bit.”
“Hello, there!” Rachel’s cheerful voice preceded her into the room. “Danny said you were here, Blythe. I was finishing up in the kitchen.” She went to Blythe and gave her a warm hug.
“That’s all right. I just stopped by to check on Mr. Slade and let him know his dog is doing fine.”
“Oh, good,” Rachel said. “Our patient is coming along nicely as well, thanks to you. It’s a wonder that you happened along when you did.”
“Just a fortunate coincidence,” Blythe said, embarrassed by Rachel’s mention of it.
“Very fortunate for Will.” Rachel smiled. “I just wanted to say hello. I’ll let the two of you get back to your conversation.” She smiled that sweet smile at Will, who ground his teeth.
He knew exactly what she was doing. Why couldn’t people just mind their own business and let him tend to his? He hated that he was the cause for more scandal, but he definitely didn’t want a wife, and he certainly didn’t want one he hadn’t handpicked—not that he’d done such a good job of it himself. Dr. Gentry could just keep her wishing and hoping to herself.
“I should be going, too,” Blythe said, once more the somewhat gauche woman he’d seen when she’d first arrived.
Will nodded. “Thanks for stopping by, and I really appreciate you taking care of Banjo. I hadn’t expected that.”
“It’s nothing. It’s just what—”
“Anyone would have done,” he interrupted.
She ducked her head in embarrassment. “I’m glad you’re doing better.”
“Do you think you could bring him by to see me?”
“Who? Banjo?”
“Yes.”
“If it’s all right with Rachel, I’d be glad to. I could bring him tomorrow if you think she’d let you sit outside on the back porch for a while. I don’t think she’d much like having a dog in her surgery.”
“That sounds like the best idea I’ve heard all week.” He’d always worked outside, and this lying around doing nothing was about to send him ’round the bend.
“I’ll check with her and see if tomorrow after school is okay.”
“That sounds great.”
They said their awkward goodbyes and Will sank back against the pillows. He was a long way from feeling one hundred percent, but he was on the mend, and at least with Banjo coming for a visit, he had something to look forward to.
* * *
Rachel had come to pick up Will’s supper dishes when Edward poked his head around the door frame and announced, “Win Granville is here to see Will.”
Will’s heart took a sickening nosedive. He wasn’t sure he was ready to go head-to-head with Granville just yet.
“Absolutely not!” Rachel said, coming to Will’s rescue with a shake of her head. “Go tell him that Will is still far too sick to deal with any confrontation.”
“It doesn’t have to be confrontational,” a voice said from the hall. A familiar figure moved into view behind Edward, who looked apologetic. Rachel gave a sigh of resignation.
“Hello, Win,” she said to her brother-in-law.
He responded with a brief nod. “Rachel.” He smiled the charming smile that sent the ladies of Wolf Creek into a near swoon and bent to kiss her cheek.
Will had to admit Granville cut a fine citified picture in his stylish Boston duds. He fairly oozed money and style. Was it that same polished sophistication that first caught Martha’s attention when she’d fallen for the Springfield dandy? It was certainly a far different look from the denim and flannel that Will himself wore.
“You’re looking extremely lovely today,” Win told Rachel.
She gave him a withering look, but she was smiling. “You should know by now that flattery doesn’t work with me,” she reminded him. “This isn’t a good time, Win. Really. Will has been very ill and he just regained consciousness this afternoon. I’d prefer he didn’t have any company for another day or so.”
Will noticed that the doctor made no mention of Blythe’s earlier visit.
“He certainly doesn’t need any unnecessary stress on his system while his body is trying to heal,” Rachel stated in a firm voice.
“I just need a few minutes, and I promise not to upset your patient.”
Rachel looked skeptical but gave a brief nod. “I’m holding you to that,” she told him, pointing at him with a slender finger. “Dad and I will leave the two of you alone,” she said as she picked up Will’s tray and followed her father from the room.
“I suppose you know why I’m here, Slade,” Win Granville said, moving closer to the bed.
“I suppose I do.”
“And?”
Will met Granville’s sharp gaze head-on. “And I think that forcing two innocent people into marriage for the rest of their lives is a terrible price for them to pay just to keep folks from talking.”
“It’s the way civilized society works,” Granville said in a smooth tone.
“Then someone needs to change things.”
A muscle in Granville’s jaw tightened and his hands curled into fists. Despite his promise to Rachel, Will knew the other man was holding his temper in check—barely. “Well, so far they haven’t, so here we are.”
Weariness pulled at Will. He wanted nothing more than to lie back on his pillows and go to sleep. Instead, hoping to get rid of his unwanted visitor, he decided to try a change in tactics. “Look, I have nothing against your sister. I’m sure she’s a fine woman, but I don’t want to ever get married again.”
“You’re missing the point, Slade. This isn’t about you and how a marriage will affect your life. It’s about a blameless young woman who loved someone who took away her reputation, as well as her inheritance, and then walked away. Surely you of all people can identify with how she feels.”
Of course he coul
d. He knew exactly how she felt.
“Boston society isn’t very forgiving,” Granville continued. “Everyone in our circle of so-called friends was whispering about her behind her back. The young men who’d once competed for her attention were making crude jokes. She had to get away from it or lose her mind.”
* * *
The woman who’d slipped quietly through the back door paused midstep at the sound of male voices. She’d hoped to sneak in to see Will without anyone being the wiser. Now she eased the door shut and stood with her hand on the knob listening...
* * *
Will knew Martha’s leaving had caused quite a stir in Wolf Creek, and everyone had done their fair share of talking about it. That was just how things were. Anyone and everything was fair game. He knew his former wife had gotten the worst end of it, but he’d also been the butt of a few critical comments back in the days when he was hitting the corn.
“Are you listening to me, Slade?” The harsh question brought Will’s attention back to the conversation.
“Yes.”
Pinning him with a hard look, Granville continued with the tale of his sister’s woes. “My brother and I thought Wolf Creek would be more forgiving of a simple error in judgment and that maybe she’d find a man to love her the way she deserves to be loved.”
“And I’m sure she will,” Will said.
Granville gave a short laugh. “Because she helped you, that chance is gone. Her life is ruined for the second time. Don’t you think that marrying her is the right thing to do?”
Personally, Will thought that pushing her off on a virtual stranger was absolutely the worst thing for her.
“After what I went through, I don’t think there’s a woman on earth I’d trust with my heart,” Will said, hoping to make Granville understand. If either he or Blythe ever did entertain the notion of love and marriage again, it would happen after they’d both had time to heal, to learn to open up and trust again.
“I’m not asking you to give her your heart. I’m asking you to give her your name, so she can hold up her head in the community.”
Wolf Creek Wife Page 6
