|
April 12, 1874
"My, my, my!" Grace made a tiny, appreciative smacking noise while beaming at me in delight, her eyes following Erik and Zach as they chatted with Reverend Johnson after Sunday services. "That is one FINE-looking man." "Erik and Hank could almost be twins." I nodded. "Hmmph. Men are like fish. They come in two kinds--keepers and the ones you oughta throw right back. And you don't need me to tell you which brother you oughta be settin' the hook in--and which one belongs right back in the mud on the bottom of the pond." "It's amazing how much alike and at the same time how different they truly are." Michaela glanced toward the blond who towered above everyone else in the churchyard. "Makes you wonder what happened to that fool over at the jail," Grace sniffed. "He sure wears that suit well." Dorothy's gaze lingered on Erik. "Just look at those shoulders..." "A FINE man," Grace repeated. "Handsome, educated, mannerly--and single." "You could do a lot worse than a successful attorney." Michaela lifted her brows meaningfully at me. "They're brothers--not interchangeable!" I rolled my eyes at their none-too-subtle matchmaking. "You can say that again. You got one who's a gentleman that knows how to dress and how to talk and how to treat a lady." Grace stole another look at Erik. "An' then you've got--uh, HANK." "I don't have either one of them," I protested lightly. "I met Erik Lausenstrom for the first time yesterday. Whatever makes you think that he might be interested in me or me in him?" "Cause you'd have to be out of your MIND if you weren't." Grace grinned. "They could be two peas in a pod, except this one's got all of Hank's good traits and none of the bad." "You can tell all that from serving him one meal?" "I'm an expert on two things--cooking and men." "Well, it's awfully considerate of you all to take so much interest in my love life." I laughed. "Is it just that you're determined to find me someone other than Hank, or are the three of you hoping that I'll catch myself a husband who will take me back East?" "Smart girl like you, you could talk that man into settlin' down right here. But you'd better make hay while the sun shines. Every female from five to fifty in that church this morning was eyein' him like a hungry coyote eyes a one-legged chicken." "Maybe Robert E had better keep a close eye on you while Erik's in town," I teased. "That man is stuck to me for life, and he knows it." She chuckled. "What does Mr. Lausenstrom think the chances are of Hank being found not guilty?" Michaela studied me for a long moment. "He hasn't had enough time to get a feel for the case." "I got a feelin' he soon will. He was askin' questions all over town yesterday, not more than an hour after he got off of the train, and he came by the Gazette wantin' to read all the newspapers I've published since Walker was found murdered," Dorothy spoke up quietly, still watching Erik laugh and talk with a group of the local men. "Does Colorado Territory have a reciprocal agreement with the bar in North Carolina?" Mike wondered. "We checked into whether or not Erik would be allowed to defend Hank prior to him coming all the way out here." I nodded. "My initial assumption was that he would probably have to work with a local attorney, but apparently there are very few restrictions here on the practice of law as yet." "He and Zach seem to be takin' to each other already," Grace opined. "Neither one of them knew that the other existed until last night, but after the initial shock it was like they had known each other all of their lives." I smiled slightly. "I thought--after Hank's grandmother visited--that..." "Apparently, 'Nana' decided that it was up to Hank to tell the rest of the family. Erik had no inkling that Hank even had a son until I told him over dinner." "OH, DINNER!!" Grace drew the word out, smiling broadly, then frowned. "Musta been dinner out at the Chateau, 'cause you sure didn't show up at my Cafe... Unless you cooked for the man yourself?" Her smile brightened again. "Good morning, Miss Grace, Dr. Mike, Miss Dorothy." Zach greeted the other ladies as he appeared at my side. "Cait, would it be all right with you if I ask Uncle Erik to come an' eat with us?" "I didn't prepare anything special for company," I hesitated, all too aware of the encouraging looks being sent my way from three overly-eager female friends. "Whatever you cook, it always tastes good." Zach flashed me the quick Lausenstrom grin, melting any resistance that I might have had. "Ethella would have said that this young man had a hollow leg." I winked. "He will eat anything that you put in front of him--and come back for seconds." "He's a big, strapping boy--and still growing," Grace predicted. "Look at the size of his papa--and that uncle...." Giving her a squelching look, I turned to Zach. "It's fine with me, if you would like to invite Erik. But I want to stop by the jail and visit with your father for at least a few minutes before we head for home." "Anything I might have that you need to finish out the meal, you just come by and get it," Grace offered. "I know how much you like broccoli, and I got plenty of it in on the train yesterday." "I put a beef roast into the oven first thing this morning, and added potatoes and carrots right before we left for church. And there's a pan of yeast rolls rising." I mentally went over the menu. "But broccoli with a cheese sauce sounds wonderful." "What about dessert?" "I baked a chocolate cake yesterday, if we still have any of it." I smiled at Zach, who had barely been able to wait until the icing was spread to cut the first piece. "At least half!" he protested lightly. "Half of one slice or half of the cake?" "Somebody ate your half--but my half's left." "It's an awfully good thing that you weren't hungry." I grinned. "Now you can share your half with Erik and me." "What do you think about the three of us going riding after we eat, if the weather holds up?" Zach suggested. "After YOU wash the dishes, then we'll talk," I teased. "Dishes'll still be there--sun may not," he warned, strolling off to rejoin the group of men that included his uncle. "RIDING with Erik Lausenstrom sounds like a FINE idea to me." Grace gave me a decidedly wicked grin. "Why am I not surprised?" I asked drily. "Whenever I look at Zach, I shudder to think of how close this town came to making a horrible mistake and sending him away," Mike admitted, watching him. "I think that I'm almost as proud of his talent and accomplishments as Hank is." "He receives a telegram every other day from the publisher in Denver, asking if he's ready to take on more work. Now that I've gotten used to having him around, I'm holding my breath for fear that he will decide that it would be easier if he simply moved back there." "One thing that I can predict with absolute certainty is that if Zach Lawson is here for the Sweetheart Dance, every girl in town will be smiling at him for weeks, trying to be the one who he decides to ask to go." Michaela smiled. "He has turned into an exceptionally handsome young man." "Looks just like his uncle..." "On that note, I'm going to go see Hank." I shook my head in pretended exasperation. I crossed the bridge into the main part of town and entered the jail, happy to see that Hank was awake and sitting up on the edge of his bunk. Freshly washed blond waves tumbled down over his shoulders, framing his bearded jaw line, and he was wearing a shirt that matched the clear blue of his eyes, making them seem even brighter. I went over to the bars, aching to touch him and knowing by the stony look on his face that he had resolved not to allow that to happen. "What the hell were you thinkin', askin' him to come here?" he demanded furiously. "Probably that I would rather not have to watch you hang," I responded in kind. "Outta all the lawyers around, you hafta go and decide the one I need is my older brother?" he shouted. "In the last seven years Erik has never lost a criminal case," I repeated what I had gleaned from old newspapers. "Neither as the prosecutor for the State nor as a defense attorney. If you can find someone with a better record than that, then by all means hire him." "He came by first thing this mornin'--sayin' he was sorry. A few words, and I'm s'posed to forget all about the things they said and done to me. Wipe out the last 13 years, like they never happened." "You played a part in this, too, Hank. You could have told them about Zach--given them a reason why you couldn't come back." "It was none of their business." "Whether it was or not, it would have helped them to understand-- and kept the family from becoming more fractured than it already was," I replied levelly. "At the very least, it would have stopped them from calling you a bloody coward." "You don't know what yer talkin' about." "What I'm talking about is the fact that you have a grown son who never knew that his surname is really Lausenstrom until last night...who thought that he had no other living kin," I said flatly. "I'm talking about the fact that you made some decisions out of foolish pride that have impacted not only your own life but Zach and an entire family for over a decade, and even now you are so obstinate that you would rather let the hangman string you up than admit to needing your own brother." "I already told you--I don't need any of the Lausenstroms." "Whether you like it or not, you're a Lausenstrom, too--and so is your son." "My old man disowned me!" His eyes blazed down at me. "Whoever I used to be, I ain't him now. When Far cut me loose, I got free from the whole lot of 'em." "If you truly believe that, then you're kidding yourself." I grasped the iron bars with both hands. "When you are this eaten up with bitterness and anger, you're not free of anything. As long as feelings this strong have a hold on you, you're as tangled up with your family as if you were still living in that same house back in Wilmington, arguing with your father and feeling the sting of his razor strop on your back! Still wanting the kind of love and approval which that man was never, EVER going to give you!" "Shut up!" he growled, throwing the tin cup that he had been holding across the room, leaving a dark coffee stain against the wall. "Just shut yer damned trap, you hear me?" "Your father's dead, Hank!" I shook the cell door in frustration. "He can't hurt you any more. For God's sake, let it go!" "Far died?" His dry laugh was totally devoid of humor. "Always thought that crazy bastard would outlive us all." "He passed away two years ago," I answered quietly. "From apoplexy. Apparently there was massive damage, and he only lasted a few hours." "If yer expectin' me to grieve, yer gonna be waitin' a long damned time," he drawled. "I'm glad the old devil's gone." "Erik told me what happened the day that you left home--how bad things had gotten between you and your father," I admitted softly. "He wasn't there. He don't know." "Ilsa saw the blood running down your back--watched you wrap the whip around his neck, then decide to let him go." He turned, pressing both of his palms against the wall at the rear of the cell and dropping his head as he leaned into it. "Yeah, well--maybe I shouldn't have." "I know you, Hank. The only way that you could bring yourself to kill another person would be if you had to--if there was truly no other choice. That day you had one, and you took it." "Erik entertain you with my whole life story while he was busy starin' down yer dress at yer tits last night?" he asked acidly. For a moment I wondered how early that Preston Lodge had gotten up to pay Hank a visit, in order to be the first to describe my decolletage. "Darlin', please...let him help you," I begged, ignoring his barb. "No." "Erik left behind his three year old daughter and a busy law practice, then rode two thousand miles on a train for no other reason than to make an attempt to save your stubborn neck." I tried to control my temper. "And you just said that he has admitted to you that he and the rest of your family were wrong. What more can the man do? What words would he have to say to make things right again between the two of you?" "All I want is for you to get him the hell outta here," he snarled, beginning to pace back and forth across the cell. "I don't want him spendin' time with Zach. Feedin' him lies. Turnin' him against me!" "Is that all the faith that you have in your son? In the kind of father that you've been?" "What give you the right to tell 'em about each other anyway?" Hank stopped pacing to glare at me. "Without even askin' me?" "What gives you the right to deny Zach a chance to know his family, now that he's a grown man?" "You might try rememberin' you got no right to him at all, lady!" "Exactly how many times do you expect to get away with not telling Zach things that he has every right to know before you completely destroy his trust in you?" I sparred. "All it would have taken is for him to have caught one glimpse of Erik in the street to realize that you had lied to him about not having a family. Zach looks even more like your brother than he looks like you! They both had to be told before they found out the hard way." "Yer meddlin' is what brought him here," he snapped. "I sure as hell didn't ask him to come! Far as I'm concerned Erik Lausenstrom can get on the next train back to North Carolina and take you with him!" "I'm beginning to wonder if you truly mean that." "Sure took you long enough." He avoided my gaze. "What is WRONG with you? What makes you act like this?" I demanded furiously. "Maybe it's you." "Is this the way that it's going to be from now on, Hank? Because if it is, it's time for me to stop making excuses for the way that you're treating me," I said quietly. "Time for me to let go. I've fought as hard as I know how to hang onto what we had, but it takes two people to be in a relationship. I can't do it alone." His eyes fixed on the floor, he didn't respond, and I sagged wearily against the bars. "I've come here, day after day, because I love you, Hank. Because I'd found in you something I wanted and needed...and I thought that you felt the same. As difficult as this is--especially coming now--I believed that the love that we had was strong enough to get us through it. That we could manage the pain--together. But you've closed me out of your life instead. The last time that you touched me--or said that you loved me--was the day that Zach came. Nearly a month ago. I need you. I need for you to say that everything is going to be all right. That you will be getting out of here soon, and we'll pick up the pieces and go on. Not to worry. But the one who has to tell me that lately is your son--and now your brother. You've pushed me away so many times--in so many ways-- that I don't know what you really want any more. I can't tell the truth from the lies. Maybe all of those promises that you made--all of those words that you said when you told me that you loved me and wanted to marry me--were nothing but lies. Maybe you've never really loved me at all... I'll never stop loving you--I couldn't, even if I tried. But I'm tired. I can't keep going on the way that we have been--I'm just not that strong any more." "Leave me alone." Hank layback on the bed, covering his brow with his forearm. "Damn you!" I whispered fiercely, tears flooding my eyes. "Fight with me. Talk to me! Tell me what it is that's come between us--and how to fix it. Say that you love me...and still want me. Right now, Hank. Before I leave today. Or we're finished. I'm through. It's all over." He remained silent--giving no indication that he had even heard what I'd said--and after waiting for several minutes, I left the jail, slamming the outer door hard behind me. Struggling to pull myself together, I detoured over to Grace's house for the broccoli, noticing as I walked past the Gold Nugget that my hitched wagon and one of Hank's horses were out front. "You got red eyes again," Grace observed without preamble as she opened her front door, the paper-wrapped bundle of broccoli in hand. "My nose is probably beet red, too." I dabbed at my swollen eyes with a handkerchief. "One of those things that I never mastered was the art of looking pretty when I cried, the way that the other girls seemed to be able to do." "You're just asking for heartache, foolin' with that man," she scolded. "Hank ain't worth half the tears you already shed over him." "If you know where to find the key that turns love on and off, I would be more than happy to be let in on the secret." I swallowed hard. "Well, would you look at that?" she breathed, her eyes fixed on something across the street, her hand moving to her throat and stroking it lightly. I turned to see Erik standing beside the watering trough, one foot propped on the rail, his back to us as he chatted with Zach. His suit had been exchanged for a loose-sleeved shirt, boots, and a pair of tight black pants that fit like a second skin, and sunlight glinted off of his cropped blond hair, making it shine like spun gold. "MmMmm... Comin' or goin', you can't beat that view!" "GRACE!" I protested, my cheeks turning pink as I shushed her. "All I'm doing is admirin' the Lord's work." She giggled. "And He sure enough has blessed that man." Zach was eager to show his uncle some of the countryside, and as soon as lunch was over the two of them began to clear the table while I retired to my bedroom to change into riding clothes. As I rifled through the wardrobe, I cast a longing look at my denim trousers and sighed. I had sworn Zach to secrecy and worn my snugly-fitting pants for our jaunts on horseback together, but Erik's presence demanded that I choose the modesty of a split-skirt. Storm tossed her head and pranced with impatience as I mounted up, but I held her in check, allowing Zach to set the pace. Although he was learning quickly, he was still far from being an experienced horseman. Growing up in a boarding school, with the need to catch up academically to classmates his own age as well as pursue his studies in art, Zach had had few opportunities to learn to ride well. But I had set about remedying that gap in his education after Hank had asked me if I would find and buy a horse to give to his son for a belated graduation gift. It had taken several days, but I finally located an absolutely flawless, long-legged, three year old, dappled-gray gelding. As soon as the animal had been brought from the barn I knew that I was going to buy him--either for myself or for Zach. Already regretting that he couldn't be bred to Storm, I put him through his paces, discovering that he responded to the lightest touch on the reins, almost seeming to intuit what I wanted in the same way that my mare did. Even though the horse was not one that I would ordinarily have chosen for a beginning rider, I had observed Zach enough to know that he had inherited his father's athletic ability and natural grace. It would only be a matter of time before his skills were a match for the magnificent, fleet-footed beast. Despite the fact that geldings have a reputation for being unpredictable, the animal appeared even-tempered as I examined him, whickering with pleasure at the feel of a soft, warm breath blown gently against his velvety nose. Still, in the back of my mind there was the nagging awareness that no one with a modicum of appreciation for good horseflesh would geld a young stallion this perfect without good reason. Playing a sudden hunch, I asked the owner to take the gray around the ring so that I could watch, and my suspicions were confirmed when I saw the horse's reaction to his approach--there was a long-standing fear and intense dislike between the two of them. Wincing as I saw how cruelly Mr. Barnes used his mount's sensitive mouth, I was determined not to leave without him. Ignoring Zach's disgruntled protests, I had spent the next two days satisfying myself that despite a history of abuse the gelding that he had named "Cody" had not developed a generalized distrust of man--that he responded well to kindness and a gentle touch--before I would allow him to take the horse out for a ride. From that moment on, Zach had spent hours each day grooming and talking to Cody while feeding him bits of apple, eagerly waiting for those rare moments when the sun broke through the cloud cover, and he could saddle up. As we made our way across the fields, Zach put the gray to a trot, then broke into a swift canter, and when Erik fell in beside him I smiled wistfully at the long-legged pair. Hungry for a father after so many years spent living apart from his own, Zach was basking in his uncle's attention, and a genuine affection seemed to have already sprung up between the two. If there was a chance that Hank and Erik could find their way back to each other, the most direct route might well be through a common love for this nearly-grown son and nephew. It was a beautiful afternoon, the winter sun sparkling in an azure blue sky above the mountain ridges, and even though the air was crisply cold, it was still a welcome respite from the endless rain that had swollen the rivers and creeks to overflowing their banks. Angry clouds to the west, tinged around the outer edges with an ominous darkness, threatened that the day might yet end with a thunderstorm, but at that moment the weather was as close to perfect as Colorado offered for the time of year. After an hour of riding Zach began circling back, and I realized that he intended to return by a series of trails that would lead us past the homestead that he had once shared with Ruby Johnson. Although the rundown farm was the last place that I wanted to go, given that my relationship with Hank had fallen apart hours earlier, I followed along in silence, recognizing that Zach wanted to share with Erik the only real home that he had ever known before moving in with me. The unused road to the cabin was a sea of mud, and the deep gray ooze clung stickily to our mounts' legs as we carefully avoided the worst of the washed-out ruts. Storm made her displeasure at the heavy mud caking her hooves quite clear, and I tightened my hold on the reins, secretly sharing her aversion. Flecks of dirt had splattered my skirt, and I grimaced as I glanced down at the brown tweed, debating whether or not to suggest to my companions that we visit Hank's property at some later--and drier--time. Just when I had finally decided to ask that we turn back, we were coming within sight of the house, and I felt my heart twist painfully. I had been here only once before--with Hank--and in my mind's eye I could see the two of us lying on a patchwork quilt in front of the fireplace, me curled up tightly against his bare chest as he smiled down at me with love in his eyes. I could almost hear his whispered, "...nobody's ever gonna love you any more'n I do--or need you half as bad." "Are you okay?" Erik asked softly, startling me with his nearness. "I'm sorry?" I turned to meet his gaze. "You're ten-thousand miles away." "Not quite that far." I tried to smile. "Do you suppose that Hans will have me arrested as a horse thief, if he hears that I was riding an animal that belongs to him?" "Didn't Zach loan you Cody and borrow Blue for himself?" I pretended confusion. "That could be." He grinned. "I totally forgot to ask this horse for his name." "I gather that things didn't go well between Hank and you this morning?" "Probably about the same as they seem to have gone between the two of you after church," he said quietly. "When I helped you into the wagon it was obvious that you had been crying." "There are friends of mine who would probably swear that I'm personally responsible for creating all of that mud that's in the street," I joked. "Now THAT might be a hanging offense." He chuckled, pushing his hair back off of his forehead. "Fortunately, I know a good lawyer--or so he says." "You would be better off if you knew the Judge." "I'll take my chances." "Why I'm right honored, ma'am." Erik copied the western speech pattern with amazing accuracy. Zach had ridden ahead and was waiting for us outside the house when we reined in. "Maybe we oughta take these horses into the barn so we can pick out their hooves and rinse some of the mud off their feet if we're gonna be stayin' for awhile." He eyed Storm and Blue. "Who is going to rinse the mud off of mine?" I looked down at the soggy ground in distaste, as Zach and Erik dismounted. "I think that I may have the very solution." Erik reached up and easily lifted me off of Storm, then carried me over to deposit me onto the porch. Stepping back, he executed a courtly mock bow. "Your servant, my lady." "Thank you, kind Sir," I bantered. "I will now be able to say in all truthfulness that I have been swept off of my feet by three men from the same family." "Aw, Cait... " Zach moaned. "It was an accident. I swear." "This big galoot bowled me right over at third base during a baseball game in the meadow after church last Sunday," I explained as Erik gave me an inquiring look. "And she's never going to let me forget it." His nephew sighed. "My team would have won, if you hadn't made me drop the ball," I accused. "You were behind four runs!" "But until then we had the momentum. And you were out!" "It don't count as a tag if I'm the one catchin' you to try to keep you from fallin' on your face!" "Did you read that in the rule book?" I challenged. "I was still hanging onto the ball until it popped loose when I landed on top of you." "The rule book don't even talk about ladies playing--let alone what to do if a runner knocks one over!" "Perhaps we could continue this discussion inside over a cup of coffee, after Zach and I tend our mounts?" Erik suggested, grinning. I lit the oil lamp, discovering that there was enough dry wood in the woodbox to get a fire going both in the stove and on the hearth, then went back onto the porch to bring in the bucket of water that one of the two men had provided. While waiting for the water in the coffee pot to come to a boil I brushed off the worst of the dirt from my clothes, swept out the dust that had accumulated in the cabin since our visit, and then wiped off the table. With the smell of perking coffee perfuming the air, I opened the bedroom door and raised one of the trunk lids, retrieving the familiar double-wedding-ring coverlet. Curling up in a rocking chair in front of the fire, I ran my fingertips lightly over the tiny, neat stitches, snuggling into the warmth of the quilt's haunting memories. Finally I heard Zach and Erik on the narrow porch, laughing and joking as they attempted to scrape the muck from their boots. Giving up, they both came inside wearing only socks, and I spotted a rather prominent hole in the right toe of Zach's footwear. "That sock goes into my basket to be darned before you wear it again," I ordered. "Yes, 'Little Ma," he teased, using his pet name for me for whenever I sounded overly maternal. Flashing an amused look at Erik, he went over to ramble through the piesafe. "I'm starvin'. There must be something to eat around here." "I knew that I would be hearing those words before we got back home again." I poured three cups of coffee, then took out the beignets that I had wrapped in napkins and stuffed into my pockets. "So I came prepared." "I didn't know we had any of these left." He helped himself to several of the sugar-coated treats. "Which is the only reason why we still had a few." I smiled, returning to the rocker. "Caitlyn's the best cook in Colorado territory." Zach sat down on the floor, propping his back against my quilt-draped legs. "I have no doubt about that." Erik winked, munching on one of the pastries. "Who woulda believed a woman as pretty and smart and as much fun to be around as her could bake biscuits good enough to make you think you'd died and gone to heaven?" he mused. "Okay, enough of the fake flattery." I groaned, rolling my eyes. "You win. You can have my share of the beignets!" "I meant every word of it," he protested, twisting around to pluck the treats out of my napkin and pop one into his mouth. "You might sound a bit more sincere about it, if your mouth wasn't stuffed full of MY doughnuts..." "I never talk with my mouth full." "No wonder you're always so quiet!" I teased. "You two seem to have become good friends." Erik sipped coffee from his mug. "As much trouble as she is to look after, I think I can manage to hold on 'til Pa gets out and takes over." Zach jested, giving me a look over his shoulder. "Assuming that I can stand to put up with him for that long," I fired back, playfully tugging on one of the long strands of blond hair that had fallen across my lap. "Me and her get along okay." He grinned. "She'll do. Truth is, I couldn't imagine Pa marryin' a schoolteacher 'til I met Cait--then I started wonderin' what took him so long to admit he was sweet on her." "Up until that day in the bank when Hank was shot, we couldn't say half a dozen words to each other without getting into an argument." "Sounds like things haven't changed much," Erik commented drily. "It does seem that way." I sighed. Hearing the sadness in my voice, Zach shifted to face me. "Cait's the only woman Pa's ever talked about. I knew he'd finally run across somebody special months ago...that he couldn't get her off his mind. Hard as he is to get along with right now, it won't last much longer. He'll be outta jail soon and comin' home." "If it doesn't work out between Hank and me, do I still get to keep you?" I asked lightly. "At least for all of my meals." "Considering that you eat at least six times a day, your Pa's not going to be seeing very much of you." I laughed. "There's something that I've been wondering about ever since I saw your work last night." Erik's gaze traveled over the face that must have looked exactly like his own 20 years earlier. "What kind of plans do you have for your future?" "I don't know what you mean." Zach wrapped his arms around his upraised knees. "Drawing bookplates is a good place to start, but with the kind of talent that you have and the right contacts, I believe that you could make quite a name for yourself in the world of art," Erik predicted quietly. "I know people who could and would be more than willing to help you get established, if I can persuade you to go back East with me when I leave." "I appreciate the offer, but for now I plan to live close to Pa and Caitlyn." He smiled at me. "I wanna be around to help raise that houseful of brother and sisters of mine who'll start comin' along after the two of them quit fightin' long enough to set a weddin' day." "With the way things stand, that may never happen," I warned. "Uncle Erik will clear Pa's name. You don't hafta worry..." "God knows, I want your father to walk out of that courtroom a free man so badly that I would give everything that I own to make it happen." I felt my eyes fill with tears. "But when he does, I won't be a part of his life. Hank broke off our engagement this morning. He made it clear that he doesn't love me--that whatever his feelings once were, they've changed." "You and Pa ain't gettin' married?" There was a stunned look on his face. "No." I shook my head slightly, unable to control the flood of tears. Zach jumped to his feet, at a loss for words. Angrily knocking his sketchpad off of the table with a sweep of his arm, he slammed the door as he left. I started to get up and go after him, but Erik stopped me, laying his hand on my wrist. "Don't. Let him go. Zach needs to be alone right now." "But--" "Trust me," he said gently. "This is something that you can't fix. He has to work it out for himself." "He had to be told," I whispered, sobbing. "How could I let him continue to think that we're going to become a family, when I've fussed at Hank over and over again about how wrong it is to keep hiding things from Zach?" "Do you really believe that it's finished between Hans and you?" "There's no longer any doubt--I'm not what Hank wants." "Sometimes before a trial--when nerves are stretched tightly--people say and do things that they don't really mean," he suggested. "As much as I would like to believe that, eventually there comes a time when you can't lie to yourself any more." I rested my head against the back of the rocker. "A time when you can't keep pretending that after the rain ends and the storm blows over everything will be washed clean and new again. I've lived through enough hurricanes to know that sometimes nothing in their path is left standing." "But when the house you live in is built strong enough and tight enough, you can fasten down the shutters and ride out the storm," he reminded me softly. "There's nothing left to keep me from blowing away." I swallowed hard. "So what are you going to do?" "When the school term ends I'll sell my house and move back East." "Caitlyn--are you sure that you really want to leave?" "I have to." I turned to meet his gaze. "I can't bear the pain of living here, seeing Hank day after day, loving him and knowing that I can never have him. For my own self-preservation, I have to go." |
