Beth’s initial reaction when she had learned Friday—two days after Halloween—that the judge would allow the recording of the rape to be used as evidence had been mild surprise and relief. She had hoped it would be allowed, but at least a small part of her had doubted. Then, on Monday, when the county attorney had dropped the charge of misdemeanor assault against Nick with the recording proving beyond a reasonable doubt that he had acted within the parameters of self-defense in coming to Beth’s aid, surprise had turned swiftly into elation. Dean Harris had gleefully reinstated Nick to full academic privileges that day, and Nick had gone back to class for the first time in nearly two months on Tuesday. That evening, they had gone dancing with Sam and Michelle, Nick’s brothers, and June and Aelissm. Now, two days later, Beth still felt the joy of that evening burning brightly in her heart, and it kept the jitters at bay on this, the second and final day of Trey’s trial as she returned to the courtroom and took a seat with Nick and her parents beside her to await the jury’s verdict.
While everyone else filed back in, she thought of the other emotions she had encountered since Halloween. There was relief and pride that she had been able to take the stand and endure the defense’s notably wandering and pointless questioning. Trey had not held up so well, quickly crumpling from macho bravado during his lawyer’s gentle questioning into a stuttering mess during the county attorney’s cross examination. When he’d finally returned to his seat beside his flustered lawyer, he had looked entirely miserable. Beth glanced at him now and flinched. He knew he was screwed, but the revelation did not bring her the satisfaction she expected it to. Instead, it resulted in perhaps the most shocking emotion that had evolved in the eight days since she’d handed her tape recorder over to Hal.
Pity.
No plea bargain had been offered to Trey, and the county attorney, a thin, unimposing man with keen brown eyes that contradicted his outwardly quiet demeanor, had prosecuted the case with a fervor that made Beth believe he was out to make an example of Trey, proving that neither a powerful family nor his place as an athletic star would stand in the way of justice. Aside from whatever sentence the judge decided on, the consequences would follow Trey for the rest of his life. One act, one glitch in his ability to reason between right and wrong would likely cost him what would have been a promising career in the field of personal fitness, or at the very least, make it very difficult for him to gain a foothold.
There was no way the jury would come back with a not-guilty verdict. The defense had no case against that made by the prosecution. The evidence in the rape exam and on the tape annihilated every argument Trey’s attorney—unsurprisingly one of the best in the state—had made.
When she recalled Nick’s and her parents’ reactions to hearing the recording, her feeling of pity lessened considerably. Something akin to rage had contorted her father’s face, her mother had sobbed and gripped Beth’s hand so tightly it had ached for almost an hour afterward, and Nick…. The renewed agony in his eyes and inscribed plainly in his face momentarily rekindled her loathing of Trey.
It’ll be done and over in just a few minutes, she told herself. And there’s no sense in holding on to those feelings. It’s time to let it go so we can move on.
Fondly, she walked her fingers from her chair to Nick’s, over his thigh to his hand, and curled her hand around his. He turned his head to meet her gaze, smiled reassuringly, and mouthed the words, I love you.
She squeezed his hand, and when he turned his palm up, she twined her fingers with his. Glancing again at Trey, she let go of her resentment.
The members of the jury filed back into the courtroom and took their seats in solemn silence. A quiet murmur filled the courtroom, so the judge tapped his gavel and called everyone to order. Beth glanced from the judge to the face of each juror to Trey to her parents and finally to Nick. His expression was even, and only the twitch of the muscle in his jaw gave any indication of the turmoil beneath the surface. Was he on edge like she was, waiting for the words that would bring closure to the most tumultuous two months of their lives? Did his heart leap like hers in anticipation of the days and months and—she hoped—years to come when they would be free to focus on each other?
The judge cleared his throat, drawing Beth’s attention. “Ladies and gentleman of the jury, have you reached a verdict?”
“We have, your honor.”
“Regarding the charge of sexual intercourse without consent, how do you find?”
“We find the defendant, Trey Lawrence Holt, guilty.”
At first, Beth felt no different. Then, slowly as the quiet murmurs again began to fill the courtroom, the myriad of emotions she’d experienced throughout the last week returned tenfold. She sat paralyzed by the force of them, barely aware that her mother took her free hand or that her father exclaimed his satisfaction with the verdict until Nick draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. When he kissed the top of her head, she started crying, overwhelmed by the conflicting feelings of relief, gratification, elation, remorse, and pity. Vaguely, she heard the judge announce a sentencing hearing for Monday.
“It’s over, Beth,” Nick murmured, rising to his feet. He offered her a hand up.
Half-dazed, she wiped her eyes and took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. Her parents hugged her, and then she and Nick followed them out of the courtroom with Hal and the county attorney on their heels. Outside, reporters from the Butte news, the Devyn radio station, and both the Devyn and Butte newspapers were waiting.
“Ms. Carlyle! Ms. Carlyle! How do you feel about the verdict?” one reporter shouted. “Are you relieved?”
“Our client will not be answering questions at this time,” Hal replied. “But we expected the jury to come back with a guilty verdict. The evidence left little room for doubt.”
“Please, Mr. McInerny, just one question,” the same reporter said. “I just want her response because, for a while in there, it seemed like Mr. Holt would get off without so much as a slap on the wrist.”
“Beth, do you want to answer that?” Hal asked.
She shrugged.
“Are you happy about the verdict?” the reporter asked.
Frowning, she mulled over the question for a moment before answering. “Not particularly, no. I feel vindicated, certainly, and relieved that it’s all over. But not happy. I wanted to avoid all this,” she said, gesturing around at the crowded lobby, “but Trey gave me no choice. And I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but I feel sorry for him.”
“You venomous bitch! Trey’s life is ruined because of you!”
Beth didn’t have time to fully turn toward the voice before Claire Holt’s hand connected with her cheek. Her parents moved to intervene, but Nick jumped between them first, pushing Trey’s mother back.
Holding his hand out defensively, he warned, “Back off, Mrs. Holt. Trey brought this on himself.”
Camera shutters clicked rapidly, sounding like rustling leaves. Lawrence Holt, whose face was twisted with the same anger that vibrated through his wife, took Claire’s hand and yanked her to his side. Beth rubbed her stinging cheek but otherwise didn’t react.
“That’s enough, Claire,” Lawrence said in a low voice.
“Yes, it is enough,” Hal remarked. Stepping closer to Trey’s parents, he lowered his voice so the reporters couldn’t hear. “Beth and Nick very graciously have chosen not to file either a claim of harassment or a civil lawsuit against your son. Were I you, I would not spurn their generosity.”
Hal steered Nick, Beth, and her family away from the Holts and the reporters and let the county attorney field any further questions from the media about the trial. They stopped just inside the doors. Beth would have preferred to escape outside into the fresh air, but a frigid wind turned the tiny snowflakes spiraling from the pewter sky into icy needles and promised to steal the warmth from their bodies in short order.
“Hal, will you and your family be joining us and the Hammonds tonight for dinner?” her father asked.
“We’d planned on it. It’s still at Old Matt and Livia’s, right?”
Natalie nodded. Turning to her daughter, she asked, “Are you ready to head home, honey? We have a celebration to prepare for.”
“I don’t feel like celebrating, Mom,” Beth replied. “Honestly, I just want to go find someplace quiet with Nick.”
“With Nick?” her mother asked, confused.
“Yes, Mom, with Nick. He’s been right here with me through everything, and I just need a little while alone with him so we can start putting all this behind us. Okay? I promise we won’t be late for dinner.”
“All right, sweetie,” her father said. “Whatever you need. Nick… I cannot thank you enough for helping my baby girl through this, and there are no words to express properly how it eases my heart to know you’ll keep her safe.”
Nick dipped his head in acknowledgement. “We’ll see you in a few hours.”
They watched her parents step out into the swirling snow, but before they could follow, Dean Harris joined them at the doors to congratulate them not on the verdict but on their strength for sailing through it with admirable poise and kindness.
Beth threw her arms around Rob’s neck. “Thank you so much for all your help… but mostly for supporting us through this.”
“You can be assured that it has been my pleasure, Beth,” he replied, hugging her back. When she let him go, he turned to rest a hand on Nick’s shoulder. Glancing between them, he added, “I’m just glad everything is turning out so well in the end for the two of you. And sorry any of it happened.”
“Well,” Beth said slowly, looking up at Nick, “there’s one thing I’m not sorry happened.”
Rob laughed, clapped Nick on the shoulder, and hugged Beth again. “Best wishes to you both. I hate to be rude, but I have to run back to campus and get started on the paperwork for Trey’s expulsion. See you both on Monday.”
“So,” Nick said, turning to her and tucking his arms around her, “where do you want to go?”
“I don’t care. I just want to be with you while I let the verdict and what it means sink in.”
“In that case, I know just the spot. Do you need anything from your dorm?”
“No. Why?”
“Because where I want to take you is in Northstar.”
She started to ask if they should stop to get her car but decided against it. It didn’t matter, and she didn’t feel like driving, anyhow. They dashed out to his truck, ducking to hide their faces from the stinging snowflakes.
Beth spent the ride home staring out the window, watching as the snow transformed the landscape and trying to process the day’s events. As it dawned on her that Trey would be going to prison for a minimum of two years, a peace stronger than she had felt in a long time—if ever—brushed away all the questions and doubts and fear, and she inhaled deeply. A wide smile curved her lips as she let it out. She glanced over at Nick and saw the old contentment she loved so much firmly back in place. Everything would be all right now, she believed. No more nightmares, no more tears, and no more pain. The worst was behind them now, and they’d be able to build a new beginning with the love and trust built by their lifetime together.
“Um, Nick? Why are we heading toward your barn?” she asked when she realized their direction.
“You’ll see.”
He parked in front of the broad door on the far side of the barn from his parents’ house and left the engine running when he climbed out. Beth stepped out of the warm cab and shivered when the blast of cold air hit her, driving feathery snowflakes down her neck through the gap in her coat collar. Nick held out his hand to her, and she took it.
They entered the barn through the standard-sized door beside the larger one. Inside, it was calm and quiet and felt warmer for the lack of wind, and the beloved smells of hay and livestock washed through Beth’s senses as they walked into the storage room just to the right of the door. Without letting go of her hand, Nick flipped on the light. Frowning in inquiry, Beth glanced up at him.
“Why are we here?” she asked again.
“Go peek in the box right over there,” he replied, pointing to a cardboard box with an old, sheepskin-lined plaid blanket draped over it.
He leaned in the doorway with his arms loosely folded across his chest and a smile she could only describe as compassionate while she peered into the box. As soon as she saw what was inside, her heart melted. A small, longhaired calico cat with a pretty, mostly white face and beautiful green eyes met her gaze and meowed softly. Snuggled into her soft belly fur were three tiny kittens—a solid black one, a marmalade, and a calico—that couldn’t be more than a day or two old. Tentatively, Beth reached in to stroke the mother’s head, and the feline head-butted her palm. Moments later, the cat was purring.
“She’s so friendly,” Beth murmured. “Where’d she come from? I know she’s not one of the barn cats.”
“We don’t know,” Nick replied, joining her. In one hand, he gently lifted all three kittens out and tucked them close to his chest to shield them from the chill air as he sat beside the box with his back propped against the wall. Mama cat jumped into his lap, rubbing up to him and meowing with blatant demand. With fondness in his eyes, he scratched under her chin and stroked her back, chuckling softly when she arched against his hand. “She just showed up on Monday, and Mom tried to bring her in the house because she’s way too sweet to be feral, but she wouldn’t stay.”
“So, this is why you had to rush home so late last night.”
“Yep. Mom was worried we’d lose the little black kitten….”
“And she knew you’d know exactly what do to,” Beth added. “You’re already putting your animal science degree to work and you haven’t even finished it yet.”
The mother meowed loudly and put her front paws on Nick’s stomach, stretching up toward his free hand when he stopped petting her for a moment. “Yes, I’ll feed you in just a minute, Mama. Or… Beth, would you mind filling her bowl? The cat food is in that bucket over there. I’ll bring her out some special treats later. Of course, you know, little girl, you could make it easier on me and come inside so I don’t have to keep coming out to the barn to check on you.”
“Henry was right,” Beth remarked after she’d filled the cat’s bowl and joined Nick on the floor. The cat had climbed up to his shoulder and currently had her forehead pressed to his cheek. Beth tucked a hand around his upper arm and rested her cheek against his other shoulder. “You do know how to woo them.”
He met her gaze. “This probably wasn’t what you had in mind when you said you wanted some alone time.”
“I really didn’t have anything in mind. And actually, this is perfect. Just like the night we found Winter.”
She wondered if he’d remembered using that memory to pull her out of the shock after she’d been raped. Undoubtedly he had and had chosen to introduce her to the calico and her kittens for that reason. It had always been a powerful memory—the time when they had transitioned from being casual playmates to inseparable friends—and now it held so much more meaning, and another transition… from best friends to soul mates.
Beth stroked a finger over the kittens still soundly sleeping in Nick’s hand. Their mother jumped down from his shoulder and promptly sat on Beth’s lap, watching her intently as if to say, Well, aren’t you going to pet me? Laughing, Beth indulged her and was rewarded with more purrs. “She has to belong to someone.”
“That’s what Mom and Dad thought, too, but no one has spoken up to claim her. Dad put up flyers at the Bedspread Inn, the Ramshorn Lodge, Ma Burns’… everywhere. Which is fine by me. She can stay here as long as she wants. And since we already have one snowstorm cat named Winter, I thought Autumn would be a good name for this one.”
“I like that. Both the name and the ‘we’.”
Smiling, Nick leaned toward her, and she met him halfway for a kiss.
Saturday morning a week after Trey’s trial, Nick woke just before sunrise to something flopping against his hip. Not quite ready to open his eyes, he reached carefully to see what had disturbed his slumber. When his fingers met with silky soft fur, he smiled. Autumn greeted him with a meow that was mostly purr. The thing flopping around was one of her kittens, which she had apparently decided to move onto his bed at some point in the middle of the night.
“See?” he asked the cat. “Isn’t this better than that cold storage room?”
Yawning, Nick opened his eyes, blinking a few times to clear the sleep from them. A serenity that had been a stranger to him for much of the last two and a half months greeted him as beautifully as the first bloom of sunrise outside his window, and he took a moment to reflect on everything that had happened so he might better appreciate how he’d arrived at what he planned to do next.
In the eight days since the conclusion of Trey’s trial, life had mostly returned to normal. Or rather, it had found a new normal with new promise for the future. Trey had been sentenced to four years in prison with the possibility of parole after two for good behavior. In lieu of a fine, the Holts had been strongly encouraged to donate money to the university—at Beth’s suggestion—to start a sexual assault education program. The ten thousand they’d agreed to wouldn’t even put a dent in their bank account, but Dean Harris was pleased and had already started putting the money to good use.
It was refreshing to return to the routine of attending classes and even better to drive out to Northstar with Beth every other afternoon to check on Autumn and her litter. With the daytime temperatures holding steady around ten degrees below freezing since the birth of her kittens, it hadn’t taken much effort on Nick’s part to convince the cat that life was better in the house.
Careful not to disturb his feline companion, he stretched and slid out of bed. He gave Autumn a quick pet, snatched his flannel off the post at the foot of his bed, and stuffed his arms into its sleeves as he headed downstairs. Unsurprisingly, his parents and his Hammond grandparents, who were in Northstar early for Thanksgiving, were already gathered around the dining room table with cups of coffee in hand. His grandparents were studying the pictures Dean Harris had taken of Nick and Beth in their Halloween costumes. Nick poured himself a cup of coffee and joined his family at the table.
“I can’t believe how much you look like Nicholas in this shot,” his grandmother remarked, holding up a photograph for his inspection.
Indeed, if it had been black and white, he might have mistaken himself for his namesake. “Thanks again for letting me borrow the uniform and gear, Grandpa. I know it has a lot of sentimental value for you, and I promise you, I took good care of it.”
“I knew you would,” Nicholas replied. “I wouldn’t have let you use it otherwise. Makes me a little misty-eyed, if you must know, seeing you in it. And your girl there, she reminds me more than a little of your grandma, so I know she’ll appreciate this.”
Nick’s heart beat a little faster when his grandfather held out his hand. “Are you sure about this?”
“We’re as sure as you are,” his Grandma Ruth replied. “And I know you. You don’t make decisions like this unless you are absolutely certain.”
He plucked the small, handcrafted wooden box from Nicholas’s palm and reverently opened the lid. Inside, cushioned on sapphire velvet, was the diamond solitaire engagement ring his grandfather had given his beloved Ruth when he proposed the day he returned from Europe at the end of the war. The diamond was small, a testament to the tight economy of the time, but the gold band was elegant with its delicate filigree. His grandmother had worn it until their fortieth wedding anniversary when Nicholas had bought her the ring he hadn’t been able to afford then. The sentimental value in the engagement ring, however, made it priceless, and Nick was honored that they had offered it to him.
“Now, what have you decided about a house? Are you still sure you’d rather build than take the foreman’s house?” his father asked.
Nick nodded. “I promised Henry a long time ago that he could have the foreman’s house. Besides, it’s a bit smaller than I’d like… and after everything, I want to build our own place.”
“Where are you thinking?”
“At the end of Aspen Creek Road. Up by that stand of aspen.”
“Oh, that’s a beautiful spot,” Ruth sighed. “And it suits you.”
Tracie stood abruptly and headed into the kitchen to start breakfast. Sensing that she was upset, Nick followed her. She had seemed so supportive of his plans when he’d discussed them with her and his father yesterday after dinner, but he now feared she may have changed her mind after thinking about it for a few hours.
“Mom?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
When she turned toward him, he saw the shine of tears. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I hope you don’t think I doubt your feelings for Beth because I don’t. With all this talk of rings and building houses….” She sighed raggedly. “It’s just been a long couple of months, and you’ve changed. I thought I’d have more time.”
“More time for what?”
“More time with my boy. But it’s gone… that last flicker of boyhood. I couldn’t be more proud of the man you’ve become, but I’m a mother, Nick, and it hurts to let go of my son.”
He hugged her tightly. “You’ll never have to, Mom. I’ll always be right here.”
“I know that, but you’ll never be the same, never be my little boy again. You can’t truly understand that now, but when you have kids and they grow up, you will.” Tracie stepped back and hastily wiped under her eyes with her thumb. “Now, having said that, let’s get you fed because Beth will be here in less than an hour, and I’m anxious to know for sure that she’ll soon be as much a part of this family by law as she always has been in heart.”
Rather than return to the table, he helped her with breakfast, and after everyone had eaten, he headed back up to his room with treats for Autumn. He dressed in several layers while his cat enjoyed her goodies, then gave her another quick pet before returning to the kitchen.
“What’s the temperature outside?”
Tracie glanced out the window above the sink at the thermometer. “Ten degrees. Are you still sure you want to ride in this?”
“I’m not thrilled about the cold,” he admitted, joining his mother at the window. Outside, the newly risen sun turned the powdery snow into dazzling diamond dust. “But it’s too beautiful out to resist. I’m going to head out to saddle Rem and Journey, so would you send Beth out if I’m not back before she gets here?”
“You bet.”
He grabbed the box with his grandmother’s ring off the table, pressed a kiss to Ruth’s cheek, and headed out to the barn, careful to settle the box safely in the zippered pocket of his Carhartt coat. The bay stallion—officially his as of this past Wednesday—stuck his head over his stall door and greeted Nick with a whinny.
“You aren’t going to be so happy to see me when I drag you out of this nice warm barn into the cold, Rem,” Nick greeted.
He hadn’t even finished saddling Remington before the door of the barn open and Beth strolled through it.
“Morning, babe,” she said, rising up on her toes to kiss him. “And good morning to you, too, Remington.”
Knowing her way around his family’s barn nearly as well as her own, Beth gathered the tack for Journey, a spirited paint gelding who had a soft spot for Beth about the size of the one Remington had for Nick. While they worked, Nick was again reminded of how effortlessly they moved together, and though he knew he should probably be nervous about asking her to marry him, he was only excited to take that first step toward spending the rest of their lives together.
“Do your parents think we’re nuts for taking a pleasure ride in this?” he asked.
“Of course. I assume yours do, too.”
“Not as much as you might think.”
“It’s probably terrible of me, but I’m glad to get out of the house. Mom won’t stop fussing over me, and she keeps saying she’s trying to soak up what she can because I’ve changed so much. She’s says I’m not her little girl anymore and that she really realized it when I needed you more than her after the trial.”
If the memory of his mother’s tearful admission wasn’t so fresh in his mind, Nick might have laughed at the coincidence. “I had that exact conversation with my mother this morning,” he said. “I suppose they’re right. We have changed, and we won’t ever be the same. Too much has happened. But that doesn’t mean we won’t be stronger for it and happier.”
“I never would have thought I was strong enough to face Trey or testify at his trial until I had to. So I know you’re right about that part at least. And I know you’re right about the second part, too, because what we’ve been through together has given us a greater appreciation for what we have.”
“Yes, it does,” he agreed. Since they were finished saddling the horses, he pushed open one of the larger doors. “Let’s get some fresh air.”
“Do we have any particular destination in mind, or are we just going to ride where the wind takes us?”
“I have a destination. Something I want to show you.”
They followed the fence line of Remington’s pasture and cut across the wide-open hayfield beyond, then turned their horses onto Aspen Creek Road. They passed the foreman’s house, which had sat empty most of Nick’s life, then the house with rough wood siding and deep red trim with a commanding view of the ranch and the eastern Northstar Mountains that belonged to his Uncle James—the second oldest of Nicholas and Ruth’s four sons after Nick’s father. After James’s house, the road dropped down to and crossed over Aspen Creek and rose again toward the aspen grove at its end. Leafless, their smooth black-flecked white trunks gleamed in in the sharp morning sunlight. A spot had been cleared and leveled for a house at some point in the past, and it was easy for Nick to envision the house he wanted to build for Beth.
They dismounted, and Nick walked her around the site, describing his vision.
“I know your grandparents plan to give you the house up behind the Bedspread Inn when you get married, but would you settle for building a house right here… with me?”
She glanced sharply at him. “What?”
“I know we’ve only been dating for a few weeks now, but I know how I feel about you will never change. I told you before that I’ll wait as long as you need, but I want you to be certain that I will wait.”
Pulling off his right glove, he unzipped his pocket and took out the ring box.
She removed her gloves and took the box with trembling fingers. When she opened it, she asked, “Is that… your grandmother’s ring? The first one?”
“Yes, it is. She and Grandpa Nicholas offered it to me. For you. You’ve always been in my life, and I want to keep you in it for the rest of it… as my best friend and as my wife. Marry me, Beth.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “Yes. Unreservedly yes! Just make sure when you build our house that we have enough room for all the Winters and Autumns and Remingtons we’re sure to find.” She laughed, and it was the most incredible sound he’d ever heard and so much sweeter for having been so rare in the weeks following the rape. “Cats, dogs, horses, kids… I want them all. With you.”
* * * * *