by Lilah Rivers
“You should steer clear,” Bartholomew added. “She’s not the sweet girl that she seems.”
Jethro tried to restrain himself. Whatever feelings he had toward Annie, whatever the reservations, he was frustrated that Bartholomew was so comfortable talking badly about her, particularly to someone who was supposed to be marrying her. It was terribly disrespectful.
“Honestly, I have been surprised by her gentleness. I know that you are saying she will only surprise me with her disappointments, but so far, I wasn’t expecting much, and I’m finding that she really is very kind,” Jethro said, determined to defend her.
“I thought the exact same thing. But then I learned the truth. I learned that it was all an act. Trust me, if you knew her—and I worry that you will—you wouldn’t be saying these things. You would be trying to run away as fast as you possibly could, trying to escape her grasp,” Bartholomew said.
Jethro was beginning to wonder if Annie had really just disliked Bartholomew. Maybe she hadn’t called off the wedding because of her own character, but maybe she decided that she didn’t want to be married to this particular man.
It was a comforting thought. If it was just Bartholomew that she didn’t like, maybe there would be hope, and he could find the good in her, and everything would be fine. Maybe he wouldn’t have to worry so much.
“Jethro, you are an honorable man. I’m glad that you are showing such excellent character at every turn. But you need to know the truth about Annie. You need to see past the fact that you want to make your mother and father happy. You need to see her for who she really is,” Bartholomew said.
“And how do you suggest I go about that?” Jethro asked.
“You open your eyes. It doesn’t take much. You need to see that she has already near enough blinded you to what she’s like,” he said.
Jethro was growing frustrated, but he was also growing frightened. What if Bartholomew were telling the truth? Jethro had been trying, genuinely, to see the good in Annie. As much as he wanted to give her excuses, there was only so much that could be said for someone who rejected her betrothed just days before the wedding.
Now, that very man was warning him. He would be a fool not to listen, not to heed the words of someone who had already been there.
What was he going to do about Annie? Why couldn’t he have things simple? Where was the wife of his dreams who was out there, somewhere, just waiting for Jethro to show up and sweep her into his home to be his wife?
He had been so certain of the qualities that he wanted in a wife and never, not once, had his thoughts of her involved trying to figure out whether or not he could trust her. It wasn’t fair.
“You all right?” Bartholomew asked.
“Not really,” Jethro sighed.
“I’m not trying to ruin your life, Jethro. I’m trying to help you. We may not know one another very well, but I can’t bear the thought of you being hurt by Annie the way that I was,” Bartholomew told him.
“I understand. I have a lot to think about, though. I don’t know what I’m going to do if Annie really is as bad as you say,” Jethro told him.
“I wish that I could tell you that she wasn’t. I wish a whole lot of things. I wish that I could promise that the two of you would live a happy life together and nothing would ever be worrisome,” Bartholomew said.
“But?” Jethro asked.
“But you need to either listen to me or you will find out for yourself. That girl is trouble. Moreover, she is very good at hiding it,” he said with sad resignation.
There was no reason not to believe him. Maybe that was the hardest part. Jethro recognized that he really should heed Bartholomew’s warnings. But it wasn’t easy when he was just beginning to want to like Annie. He was actually coming around to recognize that she was a pretty outstanding woman.
“I don’t think you’re ever going to believe me, are you?” Bartholomew asked.
“Maybe not. I don’t know how to think ill of Annie,” Jethro said. “It’s a drastic change, I know. I thought she was terrible for a long while. But now that I’m getting to know her better, she isn’t anything like I imagined.”
“Yeah, I suppose she’s pretty good at putting on that little show. Anyway. Just remember what I’ve told you. You don’t need to listen to me, but I know that there will be a day when you will wish that you had. Anyway, you have a nice day, Jethro,” Bartholomew said, taking his leave and walking in the other direction.
Jethro was left, standing there in the middle of the dusty town, wondering what he was supposed to do with the information that Bartholomew had given to him.
But he had to push it aside. He had to listen to where his peace rested. When he looked at the situation he was in, his peace was not found in the idea of running away from Annie. His peace was drawing him nearer to her.
As he realized that, he was more confused than ever.
The wedding was only two weeks away. He had to make a decision. He could either get out of the arrangement—which would certainly cost him with his mother and father—or he could marry a woman that he might tolerate, but never love.
Instead of finding it within himself to talk to Annie, Jethro wanted to talk to Timothy about all of this, but Timothy was a busy man. Still, he decided to try his luck by having a chat with his cousin about it.
He made his way over to Timothy’s ranch and found Timothy in the barn, tossing hay.
“Hey! Didn’t expect you. What’s going on?” Timothy asked.
“Nothing much. Just … well, I’ve been a bit overwhelmed again today,” Jethro confessed.
“With Annie?” he asked.
“Yeah, with Annie. You see, I’ve really started to … maybe it’s not that I actually like her, but I’ve started to realize that I could like her. I’ve finally started to give her a chance. And then, out of nowhere, I bump into Bartholomew again,” Jethro said.
“I bet that threw you right back into the confusion?” Timothy asked.
“Sure did. I mean, I really don’t think Annie’s all that bad. I think there was just a lot of misunderstanding. But Bartholomew makes it seem like she’s really terrible. I don’t know, Timothy. You should see her as I’ve just started getting to know her. She is sweet. Like, really, really sweet,” he said.
Timothy looked at him with wide eyes.
“Wow. I didn’t expect this. You’ve turned sweet on Annie, after all, haven’t you?” Timothy teased.
“Not quite. But I’m learning that she isn’t so bad as I had previously thought. I think I just had a lot of misconceptions about her. It turns out that she’s pretty kind,” he said.
“But what about all the warnings from Bartholomew?” Timothy asked.
“That’s the question, isn’t it? How do I reconcile what he’s saying with what I’ve seen? How do I know if she ended things because she is a bad person or because she just didn’t like Bartholomew?” Jethro asked.
“I think there’s probably only one way to find out,” Timothy said.
“What do you mean? What way?” he asked.
“I think you need to talk to Annie,” Timothy replied.
Jethro thought about it. He could go to Annie, talk to her, ask her what happened. It would be awkward, but it was an option.
He didn’t like that option, though. He was worried that it would make Annie feel that he was accusing her of something. All he wanted was to know if she was going to leave him high and dry before their wedding like she had left Bartholomew. And, if she was going to do that, how should he respond to it?
“Does that suggestion make you nervous?” Timothy asked.
“It sure does. I don’t want Annie to think that I’m trying to hurt her feelings or that I’m all suspicious of her,” Jethro said.
“But you are, aren’t you? You’ve made it clear that you don’t trust her. Either you talk to her directly or you’ll live your life wondering about her,” Timothy said.
“I guess that’s right,” he replied.
/> “So, do yourself a favor. Go and talk to Annie. Tell her what concerns you. Even if you don’t learn everything, just try to find out enough to help you make some decisions. If she doesn’t tell you enough, you’ll know that you can’t trust her,” Timothy said.
Jethro nodded. It was a good plan. There was nothing he could do now but go and talk to Annie.
Chapter 18
Annie answered the knock on the door and gasped in shock when she saw Jethro standing right before her. He looked sheepish like he wasn’t sure if he should be there.
Annie wasn’t sure either. Her father was at work, and her mother was in town. She was all on her own at the house again. The last thing she wanted was for him to think that she was immoral, so she refrained from inviting him in as she greeted him.
“H-hello,” she said.
“Hi, Annie. I hope you don’t mind that I dropped by,” Jethro said.
“No, not at all. It’s just that … well, my mother and father aren’t around. Do you mind if we have a seat out here on the porch?” she asked.
“Oh, certainly,” he said.
“Thank you. It’s just that if we are going to talk—if that’s what you’re here for, I mean—we probably shouldn’t go inside. Was it me you wanted to see, or are you looking for my parents?” she asked.
“I was looking for you,” he confirmed.
“All right, then,” she said, her heart racing a little bit with that knowledge.
They sat on the steps of the porch, a little distance between them. Annie waited, not sure what Jethro wanted to talk to her about.
“Oh, sorry. Did you want some tea?” she offered.
“No, no thank you. That’s not what I’m here for,” he said.
“Right. So … what have you come to talk about?” Annie asked.
Jethro thumbed his chin, clearly shy about the situation.
“I came because I wanted to talk to you about our plans,” he said.
“I see,” she said, tired of everyone talking about wedding plans for two people who didn’t know if they were even going to get married.
“I thought we should have a frank conversation,” Jethro said.
“Is this another chat about whether or not you want to marry me and how it’s mostly that you don’t?” Annie asked him, the attitude ripping into her tone.
Jethro shifted, not making eye contact. He picked a bit of fuzz from his cuff like he was trying to distract himself from the straight-forward question she had asked.
“Well, yeah, I guess. But it’s not about me not wanting to marry you. It’s about whether or not we should,” he said.
“But you’ve already decided that we shouldn’t. You made that decision the day our mothers and fathers announced it. So why do we need to keep doing this? If you don’t want to marry me, just call it off,” Annie said.
Jethro looked at her with alarm.
“What? It’s supposed to be my job? Listen here, I’ve already been through this once. It’s not like I wanted to end that engagement. You have no idea what happened,” she said.
“No. I don’t. And you can be annoyed at me all you want, but I really don’t know what happened, and you haven’t been overly forthcoming about it,” Jethro said, his own frustration eking out.
Annie leaned back and lifted her face, unwilling to be torn down by him. She wanted Jethro to know how strong she was.
“Listen, Annie, it’s my turn. I want you to know a few things,” he said.
“Right, then. Tell me,” Annie said.
“I really want to marry. I want to find a wife and settle down and have a happy life together, one with so many children. I have been hoping that God would open that door,” he began.
Annie wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be excited by their mutual desire or angry that she wasn’t included in his.
“But I didn’t expect it to be like this. I have to be honest and tell you that I don’t like knowing that you were already engaged once before. I don’t mean to hurt you and all that, but I do have concerns, and I can’t pretend otherwise,” he said.
“I know you can’t. You’re always talking about those concerns,” Annie said, her heart breaking with every word.
She wished that she could run away and escape Jethro’s latest need to explain to her why he didn’t think they were a good fit. Was he ever going to see her as anything of value? Why couldn’t he understand that she was a person, just like him, and she deserved to have the happiness of a union just like he wanted?
Didn’t he realize that if he rejected her, he would be ruining her forever? That she wouldn’t get a third chance? And why was he so harsh? He must really not have liked her to keep going like this. There had to be something so wrong with her that he couldn’t abide the thought of being her husband.
“Annie, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’ve disappointed you,” Jethro said.
“Well, that’s the thing, though, isn’t it? It’s me who has been the disappointment. You just don’t like me, and you don’t want me, and you don’t understand why your mother and father had to go forcing you to be with me. That’s the thing, isn’t it?” Annie asked.
“No, it’s not … I mean …” Jethro seemed flustered, and it gave Annie a small hint of satisfaction. Clearly, he had come here with something in mind. He had something very definite that he had planned to say, and she had managed to show him that he was being less than the sort of man that he ought to have been.
“Just tell me what it is that concerns you, and what it is that you want from me,” Annie said.
Jethro hung his head, but he continued thinking, and finally spoke up.
“I don’t like knowing that you were engaged before and that you ended things so abruptly. That shouldn’t come as a shock to you that it worries me. I’ve told you before,” he said.
“Yes, you have. And no, it’s not a shock. But here we are. And you should know …”
Annie trailed off and bit her lip. Could she tell him the truth? It was so tempting. And yet, she had made a decision over a year ago. She was not going to compromise Abigail. It would have been revenge. And now, she would be throwing Abigail’s reputation away for the sake of her own.
Besides, there was still the question as to whether Jethro would even believe her. He probably would think that she was just making something up. Surely if that had been the case, she would have said something sooner.
No, she couldn’t tell him everything. But maybe she could tell him enough to get Jethro second guessing his blame against her?
“What should I know?” Jethro asked, his voice suddenly tender.
“You should know that I had a very good reason for ending my engagement. I have not made it public,” she said. “I would like to protect someone whose reputation could be badly damaged by the truth.”
Jethro searched her with his eyes for a moment, and it made Annie very uncomfortable. She wished that he would just stop so that she could push forward on her own terms.
“You really mean that?” he asked in surprise.
“Yes, I do. I can’t reveal the full truth to you,” she said. “If that means that you won’t marry me … I guess I’ll just have to accept that.”
