CHAPTER 31
THE GIRLS in Darcy’s lodging house were all atwitter. They flocked around the windows that looked out onto the wide porch as someone knocked at the door. There was some shoving and lots of giggling as they jockeyed for position.
“It’s a man come calling,” one said as the sound of the door knocker continued.
“And he’s got flowers,” another said. “Hope they’re for me.”
“Not likely,” the first said.
Mrs. Oldham crossed the room. “It’s simple enough to open the door and find out, girls.”
“Oh, my,” Darcy said when she finally got a peek. “It’s Henry.” She smoothed her hair and pressed her lips together. There was no need to pinch her cheeks; she could feel them blooming as pink as the rose bouquet Henry held.
Darcy nearly burst; she was that glad to see Henry on the other side of the door.
“I’ve come to see Miss Whitt,” he said, all formal.
“Please come in,” Mrs. Oldham replied.
“If it’s all the same, we’ll visit out here.”
“Of course.” She said in an aside to Darcy, “You know my policy.”
“Yes, ma’am.” As if any of the girls could forget. The rules were printed and hung on each bedroom door: No visitors not approved by the house. No kissing. No touching. No lingering. No callers after dark. . . . Among many others. Mrs. Oldham read them aloud to each girl who boarded in her house.
Darcy felt light as air; she might just float away. Henry indicated a seat on the porch swing. She could feel his longing charge the air between them. It’s a wonder we don’t set the porch afire, she thought.
“I’ve sure missed you, Henry.”
“Darcy,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion, “I should never have brought you here.”
That was not what she expected to hear after her weeks of waiting. It most assuredly was not. “What do you mean?”
“Look,” he said, “is there someplace we can go? We need to talk privately.”
“I’ll just take these in,” she said of the roses, “and get my hat.”
Mrs. Oldham took the flowers. “You should take someone along,” she said in answer to Darcy’s request.
Bridgett followed out the door and down the walk. As soon as they were out of sight, she dropped several feet back, allowing privacy.
“There’s a park close by. We can talk there, Henry.”
He took Darcy’s hand and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. Her skin responded to his tender touch as if it had lain dormant until that moment. She never felt so alive.
“I do love you, Darcy Mae. Just remember that.”
“You’re scaring me a little,” she said.
The slatted-wood park bench where they chose to sit was painted dark green. A boy ran past chasing a hoop, and a man called out for his dog. Bridgett sat a few benches over. Her back was turned.
Henry leaned forward. His elbows rested on his knees. He cleared his throat, took off his hat, and put it beside him. She watched his hair, dark as a crow’s wing, fall across his fine forehead. She longed to brush it back.
“Don’t tell me yet,” she said. “Give me a minute.”
A minute —that was all it took to change the world.
“You said you love me, Henry.”
“I do, but that doesn’t amend what has happened.”
Darcy watched his face and saw it was true. Something was woefully wrong. One tear slipped down his cheek. She reached to wipe it off.
He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “If I had only listened to my heart,” he said with a groan. “You were all I needed all along.”
“Whatever has happened can surely be fixed,” she said. “I’ll stand by you.”
Henry swallowed hard. She could see the jut of his Adam’s apple working. “Listen before you make promises you can’t keep,” he said and then started the whole terrible story.
When the tomahawk met with Ace’s skull, she jumped up and ran to the fountain that sat in the middle of a brick-floored square bounded by the benches. Water splashed merrily over the rims of the three-tiered fountain and drowned out the sound of her sobs. He didn’t follow. She knew he wouldn’t try to stop her if she walked right out of the park. Her family was waiting at home probably worried to death about her. Henry sat disconsolate on the bench. The choice was hers. She sat back down but kept her distance. “Tell me the rest,” she said.
When Henry was finished, they were both crying.
“I have to go back,” he said. “They’ll send me to prison, and I deserve it.”
“How could you?” she said around a clot of tears. “How could you do such a thing?”
“I got so mad,” Henry said. “Please believe I went there with no intent to hurt Ace. It just happened —I don’t understand it myself.”
Despite herself she cupped his face and kissed him like a woman would kiss a man she’s sending to a place where she could not follow, with love and heartbreak and yearning all mixed up together.
“Don’t you hate me?” he asked.
Darcy felt she’d aged ten years between the time of leaving the lodging house and now. Sorrow washed over her. Poor Dance. Poor Ace —he had been good to her. How could she still feel love for the man who sat weeping beside her on the park bench? He had hurt her sister’s husband. Still, all she wanted to do was offer him the comfort of her arms. “I don’t hate you. I love you.”
“How could you after what I’ve done?”
“I don’t rightly know. But I can’t just turn my love off like I was turning down the wick on a kerosene lantern.” She dabbed at her nose with a delicately embroidered hankie. “We’ll go home and face the music together.”
“Oh no,” Henry said. “I’ll not take you down with me.”
“You don’t have a choice in that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m your wife, and if my suspicions stand correct, I’m carrying your child.”
He gasped and placed his hand on hers. “Oh, Darcy.”
She moved her hand away. “I’m not ready for your touch yet. I might touch you, but you aren’t to touch me.”
“A baby,” he said. “How could this have happened?”
“Surely you can figure that out,” she snapped.
“I’m sorry,” he said, twirling his hat in his hands. “I’d take it all back if I could.”
“Stop that. There’ll be no sorrow over this baby.” She spread her hand over her belly. “Think about it this way —at least I’ll have this much.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“Henry Thomas, if you say that again, I’m going to pinch your head off. Sorry doesn’t count right now.”
“Your family will stand by you. I might be gone a long time.”
“I suppose they would,” Darcy said. “I’ll stay home until the baby is born, but after that, wherever you are, that’s where we’ll be. I’m not sitting around on Troublesome Creek being gossip fodder for the rest of my life. I have a trade and I can support myself. Prisons have visiting days, I expect.”
“There’s no need to worry about how you’ll live. There will be enough money to last you.”
Darcy sighed. “Don’t you get it? Money and greed are what got us in this mess. Your money. Your greed.”
As if her words were poison-tipped arrows, he jerked, then slumped back against the bench.
Darcy’s eyes smarted. Her blood simmered with anger like a pot of beans on a back burner. Right now she didn’t understand herself or him. She should get off the bench and walk away, not even look back. Instead, she took a moment to compose herself. She thought of her grandmother and the troubles she’d faced in her lifetime. Mammaw had stayed stalwart and strong through it all. Darcy would claim that endurance as her heritage from Mammaw just like her button nose and her short stature.
“I could have given you the world,” Henry said in a choked voice.
“I never wanted the world. I only wanted you.” Darcy turned toward him. She wanted to see his eyes. It felt like her life rested on his answer. “Just tell me one thing. Why didn’t you run while you had the chance?”
“I couldn’t leave Ace’s wife to stand accused. I thought I could.” He tossed a bit of stale pretzel he found on the bench over the heads of the pigeons to a hopeful squirrel. “When I heard those men say the law was after Dance, I figured I was the luckiest man alive. I came back here to collect my stuff, figuring to head out west. But there was the Bible on my nightstand and old man Follett’s admonition —I’ll tell you about him another time. Anyway, I spent two days and nights on my knees with that Bible. The Lord wouldn’t give me any rest.”
She bit her lip. That was a good answer, but it wasn’t the answer she longed for. “I’m glad you found the Lord. You know He forgives you. Maybe everyone else will in time.”
“I know you don’t want me to touch you, but I can’t help myself.” Henry rubbed her lower lip with his thumb, then kissed her ever so gently. “I couldn’t leave you, either, little Darcy. I thought to, believe you me. I’ve cursed myself for bringing you into this. But I couldn’t resist you. You’re the best and brightest thing that ever happened to me. I never loved anyone until you.”
“Do one thing for me,” she said, handing him her gold band. “Put my ring back on.”
Henry was not surprised to find a welcoming committee outside Mrs. Oldham’s boardinghouse when he and Darcy Mae returned. He heard her gasp, and the hand she rested in the crook of his arm tightened.
“Something has happened to Mammaw,” she said while they were still out of earshot. “Dylan’s come to tell me.”
But Henry had seen the wink of sunlight off a badge on Dylan Foster’s chest. Big Boy Randall was a puzzle, though. The sheriff must be getting desperate. The street was busy this time of day, and they hadn’t been spotted. There was still time to make a run for it. Henry’s muscles coiled tight as a spring. Every ounce of his being begged self-preservation, but he kept his forward trek. It was put up or shut up now.
“Darcy Mae, be brave. They’ve come for me.” Oh, how he wished he could protect her from what was to come. “Open your purse.”
She didn’t question as he slid three bankbooks into her purse but received his gift and pulled the drawstrings tight. Right then he knew she stood with him, whatever befell. It was a powerful moment.
“That’s something for your eyes only, Darcy. I worked hard for each penny recorded in those books. There’s more than enough to take care of all your needs and Dance Shelton’s too. Spend it as you like.”
Just then he saw Foster elbow Randall, who was jawing with some ladies. Big Boy fumbled with the holster on his hip. Henry almost laughed. Some fine lawmen, he thought as he raised his arms in surrender.