Wolf Creek Wife

by Penny Richards

  For the second time in a matter of hours Will felt the world fall out from under him. Alarm sent his heart to racing. Just minutes ago he’d been furious with his wife for her lack of trust in him and upset because she was having another man’s child. Now all he could think about was how small she’d looked lying in the big bed. How young. How defiant she’d been, refusing to give an inch, even though he could see in her brown eyes that her heart was as broken and bleeding as his. He couldn’t bear the thought of her going through the emotional shock of losing a child, even if she’d known of its existence only a short time. She’d been through enough.

  “What’s the matter with her?”

  “I’m sorry, Will,” Edward told him. “I can’t say with any certainty. Women sometimes have a hard time carrying babies to birth for any number of reasons. The anxiety she’s been through could very well be part of the problem. She’s run-down and doesn’t look as if she’s been eating well.”

  Edward sighed. “It’s just hard to say. On the other hand, if she gets a few days’ bed rest, puts on a little weight and has nothing to worry about but getting better, things could turn around.”

  Will nodded, weary though the morning wasn’t half over yet. “Will she need to stay here for a while?”

  “No, I sent Libby home to fix a room for her there. She has a downstairs bedroom, and if Blythe needs something, I can be there in a matter of minutes. I think she’ll be more satisfied with her mother nearby.”

  Will nodded. “I’m sure she will. Let me know when she’s ready to go and I’ll drive her over.”

  “Will.”

  The feminine voice came from behind him. He turned to see Rachel, a look on her face that hovered somewhere between determination and sorrow.

  “Blythe doesn’t want you to drive her over. She doesn’t want to see you at all.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “She said she changed her mind,” Rachel told him. “That even though she told you she’d stay no matter what, she just can’t do it, considering how things are.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Rachel shook her head. “Oh, Will. You know what happened in there. I don’t. I’m just relaying her message.”

  Will felt all the fight go out of him. Something powerful squeezed his heart. He gave a single nod of acceptance. If this was what she really wanted, who was he to deny her?

  Like Blythe, he’d been running on emotion for days, fighting against doing things he didn’t want to do, fighting for things he wasn’t even sure he wanted because it was the right thing to do. Fighting.

  “I’ll get her things together and bring them in as soon as possible.” He pivoted on his boot heel and headed for the door.

  As he passed Rachel, she said, “Will!”

  “What?” he growled, pausing.

  “Don’t be in too big of a hurry bringing her things back.”

  He lifted his heavy eyebrows in question.

  “She’s in a lot of mental turmoil right now. I think that when she has time to think things through, she may change her mind.”

  Will’s lips twisted into an ironic smile. Knowing his bride as he was beginning to, that was certainly a possibility, but this time he doubted it. Without a reply, he turned and walked out of the room.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Blythe was settled in her mother’s downstairs guest room by lunchtime.

  “Is everything okay?” Libby asked. “Do you feel all right?”

  Blythe longed to say something to erase the concern in her mother’s eyes, but nothing came to mind and she was too weary to care overly much.

  “Everything is fine, Mama. Stop fussing over me.”

  “Worrying and fussing are what a mother does best,” she said. “What sounds good for lunch?”

  “I’m not really hungry, but I think I can sleep.”

  “Of course,” Libby said. “I’ll check in on you in a bit. I put Gramma’s little brass bell there on the table. If you need something before I get back, just ring.”

  “I will.”

  When her mother left the room, Blythe turned on her side and placed her hands beneath her cheek. The ache in her heart was almost unbearable, but she wasn’t even sure why she was so heartbroken. Was it because her life was a shamble? Was she angry because life as she’d known it was gone forever? Because seeing Devon’s child would be a daily reminder of him and all the harm he’d done her? Or was it because the life she’d hoped to forge with Will was doomed before they’d had a chance to make it work?

  It’s your fault, Blythe Slade. If you weren’t so stubborn and hadn’t sent him away, Will would be sitting here beside you right now, like the dutiful husband he would be.

  That was the problem. He would be at her side because it was his duty. She didn’t want dutiful. She hadn’t sent him away because she believed that he’d taken money to marry her or used their marriage as leverage to get a loan from Win. She wanted him to stay because he couldn’t bear to not be in the same room as she was.

  She loved him, plain and simple. Loved a man who was the total opposite of the men who had claimed her interest in the past. When compared to Will, all those men, including Devon, seemed...less in every way. Will was simply...what he was. He had no need to pretend to be upstanding. He was. He didn’t need to put on airs, since anyone could see that even though he was a little rough in his appearance, he was a man of his word. Besides, he could look as well-groomed as the next man, as he’d proved on their wedding day.

  Will Slade was a giant of a man who ran his business with fairness and caring for his employees. He was a man who felt more at home in the woods or a noisy sawmill than behind a desk dealing with invoices and numbers. He was terrible with mathematics. He was all that and much more. He was the man she loved and lost. She wondered how he’d responded when he’d been told she didn’t want to see him.

  A sharp rap sounded at the door and her brother poked his head into the room. “Asleep?”

  “No,” she said, pushing herself into a sitting position.

  Win strolled into the room and sank into the wing-back chair next to the bed. “I hear congratulations are in order.” There was no joy in his tone or his eyes.

  “So it seems.”

  “And how do you feel about that?” he asked, reaching out and taking her cold hand in his.

  She shrugged. “How do I feel?” she asked. “Blindsided. Sad. Overwhelmed.”

  “Everything will be fine once you have time to get used to the thought.”

  “Will it, Win?” she asked with a wan smile. “Knowing that I’ll have a child by a man who used me in the most hateful of ways is very...troubling. Having a baby shouldn’t cause a woman to feel as if a millstone were hanging around her neck. It should be the source of anticipation and joy, the result of love and an intimacy sanctioned by God, all the things I believed while I was with Devon. You’re right. I was a fool.”

  “No, Blythe. I was the fool. You had the courage to follow your heart, which is more than I’ve done.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile.

  “I’m ashamed to say that when all the brouhaha broke with Devon, Philip and I were more concerned about the Granville name and our position in society than what you were going through and how you were feeling. We were wrong, and I’m incredibly sorry.”

  “It’s all right.”

  Neither spoke for several seconds. Finally, Win said, “I understand you told Slade you didn’t want to see him anymore and that you planned to have the marriage annulled.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Because you believe Martha’s claim about what she heard that day? I can tell you she misconstrued everything.”

  “So you didn’t say there were advantages to marrying me.”

  “As a matter o
f fact, I did,” Win confessed. “But I meant that the family knows a lot of folks back east that we can introduce him to. Men who are potential buyers of his lumber, which could be great for expanding his business and making more money. That’s all.”

  Blythe believed him. She’d believed Will over Martha, but hearing Win explain reinforced her certainty.

  “He took your wedding vows seriously, little sister. With that kind of commitment, there’s a good chance the two of you can make this marriage a success.”

  “I know that.”

  “Then why end it? Why send him away?”

  “I know I’ve been difficult since the fiasco with Devon.” She tried to smile as she used the same word to describe her marriage that he had. “I’ve been hard to get along with, angry, and my moods have swung from one side of the pendulum to the other. One minute I’m acting like a child, the next like our mother.”

  Win smiled then. She was right.

  “I’ve learned a few things since November, and now, with this, I think I can say that I’m really growing up. I know exactly what I want, and it’s a lot different from what I wanted at Thanksgiving.”

  “And what do you want?”

  “Maybe I know what I don’t want,” she told him. “I don’t want Will just because we took vows. I don’t want to settle for second best in a husband, or to have a marriage that’s little more than a civil arrangement.

  “Not only that, but if I’m having trouble accepting this baby, how can I expect him to? He didn’t ask to become father to another man’s child when we agreed to marry. I don’t want Will to take on the raising of this child just because it’s suddenly become part of the deal and he’s a man who always keeps his end of the bargain.”

  For the first time in a very long time, Blythe allowed the things in her heart to be revealed in her eyes.

  Win searched her gaze. “Oh, dear, little sister,” he said at last. “You’re in love with him.”

  * * *

  After her brother left, Blythe and her mother shared some chicken soup together in the bedroom. Then, while Libby worked on some embroidery, Blythe told her mother about her conversation with Win and how she’d never seen him so penitent for his actions.

  “I agree,” Libby said. “Even though he got his way, he’s truly sorry for pushing you and Will so hard. He may have finally realized you’ve grown up and are perfectly capable of making your own decisions.”

  “I don’t feel very grown up,” Blythe told her. “And the choices I’ve made haven’t been very good ones.”

  “I think your decision to marry Will was a good one.”

  “I was starting to think the same thing, and then I found out about the baby. He didn’t agree to that, Mama,” she said, repeating what she’d told Win. “And I...” She paused. “I care for him too much to force him into staying.”

  “You love him.” It was a statement.

  Blythe nodded. “Yes.”

  There was so much anguish in the admission that Libby felt as if her own heart might break. “Then trust that love, Blythe. And trust God to work this out in His own way, His own time.”

  They talked until Blythe grew sleepy, and Libby went upstairs so that they could both get some much-needed rest. Libby slept restlessly, listening in the special way understood only by mothers, when she heard a terrified scream from the bedroom below. She bolted upright in bed, flung back the covers and raced down the stairs, praying as she went.

  * * *

  After a night of tossing and turning, Will woke around daylight and put the coffee on. Even though she’d been there only a matter of days, the house seemed empty without Blythe scurrying around trying to fix him breakfast.

  A reluctant smile claimed his lips. She was a disaster in the kitchen, but she was a determined disaster and, because of that, she’d made some pretty impressive strides in a short length of time.

  Any doubts he might have had about whether or not she was a good person had been laid to rest. She was still young, still untried in many ways, but smart, adaptable, willing to learn and a hard worker. She was principled and God-fearing.

  Will laughed out loud. Who was he trying to convince?

  Across the room, Banjo woke, gave a huge yawn and stretched.

  And his dog liked her, which was a major plus.

  Slicing a couple slabs of the bread she’d made, he buttered it on both sides and laid it in a skillet to brown, his favorite version of toast. By the time it was crispy on both sides, the coffee was ready and he sat down with his makeshift breakfast.

  He was finishing his second cup of coffee and wondering what he could do to convince Blythe to come home when he heard hoofbeats thundering down the lane. He got to his feet and opened the front door.

  Win Granville, hatless and wearing denim and chambray, sat astride a big roan gelding. It looked like the city boy knew his way around a horse, Will thought grudgingly. Close on the heels of that came the question. Why in blazes was Granville coming to the house at this hour of the morning?

  “Mornin’, Granville. Do you want a cup of coffee?”

  “Good morning, Slade,” the banker said, slipping his foot from the stirrup and slinging his leg over the rear of the horse. “There’s no time for coffee. You need to saddle up.”

  Will didn’t miss the intensity in his brother-in-law’s tawny-hued eyes. Every nerve in his body responded. “Why? What’s wrong? Blythe?”

  Win nodded. “She lost the baby a couple of hours ago. Mother said I should come and get you.”

  “No!” Will said, grabbing the door frame so hard his knuckles turned white. His knees felt week and he fought the urge to bawl like a baby himself. Though he’d been warned that this was a possibility, he hadn’t really expected it to happen. Blythe was young and strong...and that tiny little baby had done nothing but try to live...

  “She said she didn’t want to see me.” Will heard the way his voice had grown thick with unshed tears.

  “She needs to see you.”

  Will’s head came up like an animal sensing danger. “Why would you say that?”

  “She loves you.”

  For a moment the statement lifted the weight on his heart. Then reality set in. He laughed, a sound without any joy. “Then why did she tell me to leave, that she wanted to end the marriage?”

  “Because everything was so messed up between the two of you from the beginning, and then when she found out about the baby, it was sort of the last straw. She was having a hard time dealing with it herself, and she didn’t want you staying in the marriage out of obligation and duty. My sister wants to be loved. And she has a lot of love to give in return.”

  Will was overwhelmed by the overture of understanding and kindness from his brother-in-law. “I do love her. I didn’t think I’d ever love anyone after Martha, but Blythe...she’s...she’s the face I want to see next to me when I wake up every morning.”

  Win slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t tell me, Slade. Go tell her.”

  Less than an hour later Will reined his horse in at the front of Libby Granville’s house and Win went home. Libby must have been watching for him because she flung open the door before his feet ever hit the step.

  “Will!” she exclaimed, greeting him with a welcoming hug. “Thank God you’re here.”

  The warmth of her welcome took him by surprise. “What happened, Mrs. Granville?” he asked as they walked side by side into the wide foyer.

  “Only God knows, Will,” she told him, pausing at the foot of the stairs. “Edward said that from everything Blythe’s told him, there have been signs of something being awry from the beginning. We can only speculate that everything that’s happened contributed to the problem. But then again, sometimes these things happen for no apparent reason.”

  “How’s she taking it?”
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  “She’s cried a lot, but it’s hard for me to say. Sometimes my Blythe closes herself off from everyone and everything, even her own feelings. Maybe you can help her open up.”

  Once again Will felt his throat tighten. He understood completely. He’d done the same thing. His voice was husky as he said, “I doubt it. I imagine she’ll be furious that I came.”

  Libby smiled. “Did Win tell you how she feels about you?”

  “He did,” Will said, nodding, “but I’m not sure he knows what he’s talking about.”

  “They had a long talk, and he knows. Now go on up and see her, and if she gets contrary, don’t listen to anything she says,” Libby told him. “I’m going to fix some breakfast and I’ll bring you both some when it’s ready.” She turned toward the kitchen.

  “Mrs. Granville.”

  “Pip,” she corrected, turning back to face him.

  “I want you to know that even though you may think I’ve lost my mind, and I can’t possibly know how I feel about her after such a short time, I love her. I love her determination, her strength, her little bursts of irritation. Just being in the same room with her makes me happy. And even though hearing about the baby knocked me for a loop, I’m truly sorry she lost it.”

  “I don’t find that hard to believe at all, Will. Now go.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  * * *

  Blythe lay in the big four-poster, her forearm over her face. All the tears were gone. She placed her other hand over her tummy that felt strangely empty, even though she’d known of the existence of the baby only a short time and had not had time to get over the shock of its existence before it was gone...just like that. Just like so many things in her life. There one moment, gone the next.

  As she had so many times before, she blamed herself. If she hadn’t allowed herself to be filled with so much sorrow and emotion... If she hadn’t worked so hard at getting things ready for Will’s mother...