LARSON FOUGHT THE INSTINCT to run. Instead, he cocked his head to one side and hoped the wave of dread inside him would somehow translate into surprise. “I’m afraid there’s been some misunderstanding, ma’am.”
Annabelle huffed a laugh. “You bet there has been,” she said, slowly walking toward him. With each step she took, Larson felt his carefully constructed world crumbling. “It was your eyes that gave you away, you know. Eyes that could see right through you, that’s what Kathryn told me. That and the fact that Kathryn Jennings wouldn’t look twice at another man this soon, less’n it was her husband.” She bit her lower lip and laughed to herself. “And I’d bet my life that I’m lookin’ at him right now.”
Larson shook his head and worked to keep his voice even. “I’m not who you think I am, ma’am.”
Annabelle’s eyes filled with tears, and from the angst in her expression, she wasn’t comfortable with the emotion. “I just wanna know one thing. Why haven’t you told Kathryn you’re still alive?”
Larson was stunned with what he saw on this woman’s face. She was completely devoted to Kathryn. No, more than that. A protectiveness radiated from Annabelle that almost frightened him. This woman would fight to protect Kathryn at all costs.
He felt a spark inside him at the thought and took a deep breath. “Kathryn Jennings’ husband died last December. I know that for a fact because . . . I was there with him.”
“I may just be a whore to you, mister, but I know more about the inside of a person than you ever will. So you take off those glasses and try tellin’ me that again.”
Larson fisted his hands to ease their trembling. Then he did as she asked.
Head bent, he rubbed his eyes, unaccustomed to the light. Then slowly, he looked up. Annabelle’s eyes were disturbingly blue, and dangerously discerning. Larson forced himself to maintain her gaze. Clearly, she didn’t believe his story, so he would have to find another way to convince her.
“What I’m telling you now is the truth. Larson Jennings died in a fire last December. He was so badly burned there was hardly any of the old man left in him. Kathryn has buried her husband and moved on with her life, and that’s how things need to stay.”
Annabelle shook her head. “Kathryn always told me you weren’t dead. She said she felt it”—she put a hand over her heart—“in here.”
Larson clenched his jaw against the churn of emotions inside him. He reminded himself that he was doing what was best for Kathryn, for the baby. For everyone. But why did it have to hurt so much? “Even if her husband could come back from the grave, he wouldn’t have anything worth giving her. He lost everything when he died. He wasn’t the man she married anymore, or a man she would’ve wanted.” Larson prayed for Annabelle to see the truth. “Kathryn deserves far better than that. She deserves better than him.”
She didn’t answer immediately. Her voice was a whisper when she finally spoke, but her expression was fierce. “Do you have any idea what she’s been through?”
Larson looked past Annabelle to the place where he’d stood and watched Kathryn enter the brothel that first night, after following her back through town. That night seemed like a lifetime ago. He didn’t even feel like the same man anymore. He sighed, wondering how to convince Annabelle. Then it came to him. The words were like rust on his tongue.
“There’s one thing Kathryn has now that her husband was never able to give her. That he never will be able to give her. And it’s something Kathryn has wanted all her life.”
Annabelle’s brow wrinkled, then her mouth fell open slightly. “You’re talking about the baby?”
He nodded. “Matthew Taylor is ready to take full responsibility for what he did. Kathryn cares for him, and in time, she’ll let him take care of her.” Saying the words aloud scathed what little of his pride remained. “He can give her the life her husband never could.”
“You think Matthew Taylor . . .” Annabelle looked at him as though trying to piece together what he’d said.
Larson nodded, and then, as he’d hoped, comprehension registered in her expression. Her features grew hard, and her loathing was almost tangible.
“You know, Jacob, I think you’re right. Kathryn Jennings does deserve better.”
It was nearly noon and still Jacob hadn’t returned from town. Kathryn dusted the shelves in the main study and peered out the window, eager to find out how Sadie was faring this morning—and to see Jacob again. Maybe he’d come in the back way and she’d missed seeing him. She walked to another window and looked out. Gabe was working with a horse in the corral, but there was no sign of Jacob. She carefully bent down to clean the lower shelves.
Thinking about the previous night and reliving Jacob’s gift of the evening to her, Kathryn acknowledged how drawn she was to him. To his kindness, his gentleness. He made her feel so special when they were together. Jacob was aware of her—not just about what she liked or didn’t like, but of her. And he went to the trouble to find out her birthday, a date Larson had always seemed to let slip his mind. Jacob was slowly becoming the center of her thoughts, and that discovery left Kathryn feeling slightly off-balance.
She remembered the feel of her lips on his cheek and the faint scent of musk and hay. He was a man of gentle strength. His love for God and his respect for God’s Word drew her with an attraction Kathryn had not experienced before. Not even with Larson. What would it be like to be loved, to be cherished, by a man like Jacob?
Larson’s looks were the first thing that had attracted her to him—his eyes specifically. Eyes that could see right through her. She sighed. And that’s just what they’d done—seen through her, but never really into her. She’d always placed too high a value on the outside of a person and not enough on the heart. How many times had her mother warned of the danger of that miscalculation? Kathryn wished she’d learned that lesson earlier in life.
Standing with effort, she caught a glimpse of her profile in a glass-fronted bookcase. Her protruding belly halted her frivolous thoughts.
What was she thinking? She was a recently widowed woman about to have her husband’s child. How could she be entertaining thoughts about Jacob when the precious remnant of her husband bloomed inside her? She would never do something to intentionally dishonor Larson’s memory. The only interest I have in Jacob is as a friend. Hadn’t she called him that just the other day when introducing him to Matthew? A good friend. That’s all Jacob was to her, and that’s how it would stay.
Kathryn pushed through her chores that afternoon so she could leave early to go see Sadie and Annabelle. Standing by the kitchen door, she untied the apron from her middle and reached to hang it back on the hook. The baby within her kicked in response, and Kathryn gasped. She smiled and ran a hand over her abdomen, gently rubbing the definite protrusion of a tiny arm or leg. “Patience, dear one. It’s not quite time yet.”
Soon she would hold her precious child, and a part of Larson again.
“Are you done for the day?”
Kathryn inhaled sharply. “Oh! Miss Maudie, you startled me.” Then she laughed. “Yes, I’m all done. Gabe offered to drive me into town to see a friend. We’re leaving in a few minutes.”
“Time away from here will do you good, dear. You just take your time and get back when you can. I have plenty of help with dinner, so there’s no need to be hurryin’.” She tilted her head, a twinkle in her eyes. “How was your surprise last night?”
“Oh, it was wonderful. The best birthday I ever had.” Kathryn’s face grew warm. “Jacob is a very nice man, and your cake was delicious. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure. You deserve some wonderful things after all that’s happened. And that Jacob is a fine man indeed. Sometimes the greatest treasures are found where no one else is lookin’ deep enough to see.” She winked before she turned away.
Kathryn stepped outside and stood on the back porch step, breathing in the languid summer breeze and pondering what Miss Maudie had said. By the time Gabe pulled the wagon up behind the brothel an hour later and set the brake, she’d decided to take a deeper look into Jacob, to make the effort to get to know him better as a friend, if he was willing, which she believed he would be. No doubt, treasures lay within his heart that few had taken the time to see.
“I’d like to go in with you to see Sadie, if that’s okay,” Gabe said, helping her down.
Kathryn squeezed his hand. “Certainly, and Annabelle will want to see you too.”
The back door to the brothel opened, and Annabelle stood framed in the doorway. Her eyes dropped to Kathryn’s front, and slowly, she shook her head and smiled. Her expression was a mixture of pleasure and pain, and Kathryn wondered if Annabelle’s seeing her so far along with child made her friend long for another chance at a different life.
“It’s good to see you again, Annabelle.” Kathryn climbed the stairs and warmed when her friend’s arms came around her, and then she had to laugh. “That’s about as close as we can get with this baby between us.” She drew back slightly. “How is Sadie this afternoon?”
“Doc says she’s gonna be okay.” Annabelle seemed unusually quiet, subdued. “She’s up in bed asleep right now, but I know she’ll want to see you.” She offered Gabe a weak smile. “How are you, old friend?”
“Better now.” Gabe pulled her close in a big hug before letting her go.
Annabelle stepped back, her eyes swimming. “Sadie’ll welcome a visit from you too, Gabe. She’s always liked you, which is sayin’ a lot, ’cause she doesn’t take to most people. Especially men.” She turned to Kathryn. “So, have you seen Jacob today? Since he left here this morning?”
Kathryn shook her head, wondering if she’d imagined the subtle shift in Annabelle’s tone. She sounded . . . disturbed. “No, I haven’t seen him since he left to bring Sadie into town last night. Why?”
Annabelle opened her mouth to say something. Then, apparently thinking better of it, she motioned for them to follow her upstairs. “Doc Hadley already came by this afternoon to check on her. He said she’s gonna be fine. Her arm is broken, but it’ll heal, in time.”
Annabelle’s voice was thick with regret, and Kathryn wished again that she’d been able to talk her and Sadie into leaving this terrible place. Maybe now that she had her land, thanks to Donlyn MacGregor’s generosity, another opportunity would present itself.
Annabelle poked her head into Sadie’s room. “You awake? You’ve got some visitors, girl.” She motioned for them to follow her.
Kathryn had to force a bright countenance when she saw Sadie. The girl looked so small and helpless lying in the bed, her arm bandaged and her left cheek swollen and purpled. “I hear Doc Hadley is taking good care of you.” She leaned down and laid a hand to Sadie’s forehead. It felt warm to the touch.
“Mmm, your hand feels good. It’s so cool.” Sadie sighed and blinked heavily, her eyes slipping closed again.
Kathryn glanced back at Annabelle.
“It’s okay,” Annabelle said. “Just the medicine the doc gave her. Said it’d make her real sleepy.”
Gabe entered the room, went around to the other side of the bed, and stood quietly. Kathryn was about to make sure Sadie knew Gabe was there too when Annabelle’s name echoed down the hallway.
Annabelle huffed. “I swear these girls can’t do anything by themselves. I . . .” Mumbling, she finished the sentence to herself. “You go ahead and visit. I’ll be right back.”
Kathryn eased herself down on the side of the bed. “I see things haven’t changed much around here.” Smiling, she gently cupped both sides of the girl’s face, sharing the coolness of her hands. Sadie’s eyes fluttered open, and Kathryn relished the rare softness in them. She’s so young, Lord. Give her hope. Help her to see your love. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, and I’m glad you’re going to be all right. You’re very special to me, you know. Do you remember my first day here?”
Sadie nodded.
“You never said anything, but the way you smiled at me . . . Somehow it made me feel not quite so alone.” Kathryn paused, and her heart began to beat faster as she realized what she truly wanted—and needed—to say to Sadie. “You’re not alone either, Sadie. You’re very special to God. He knows your name, and He loves you more than you know.”
Sadie’s expression clouded. She closed her eyes and turned her face away.
Kathryn ached at the wordless denial. How often had she herself felt unloved by God, especially during these past months? How often had she questioned that love? She wanted to help this child understand that you couldn’t judge God’s love by your circumstances, but where to begin? How did you describe the ocean to someone who had only lived in desert?
“You probably don’t think God loves you very much right now, Sadie, and I don’t blame you. But please don’t be fooled into measuring His love by the bad things that happen to you or by how other people treat you or see you. Or especially by whoever did this to you last night. God has a better life planned for you than this. You’re worth so much more than what you’ve been told.”
Slowly, Sadie looked back, her eyes glazed, her expression guarded. “You are a good woman, Kathryn. . . . I’m glad you came here . . . and that you were there with me last night. I’m also glad for Jacob.” Her brow creased. “What do you know of this Jacob?”
Curious at the question, Kathryn sat up a little straighter. “Why do you ask?”
“He is a different kind of man than I have known before.”
That brought a smile. “Yes, I would imagine that he is.” No telling what kind of men this child had known in her brief life. More like monsters, in Kathryn’s opinion. Jacob had been so gentle with Sadie last night, so compassionate.
“The look in his eyes . . . same as yours.” Sadie blinked again, as though struggling to stay awake.
Kathryn hesitated, certain she’d misunderstood. “You . . . you saw Jacob’s eyes?”
“Yes. But he did not want to show me at first.”
Kathryn couldn’t explain the twinge of hurt that pricked her. Why should it bother her that Jacob had shared this part of himself with Sadie? But she knew why. Because she wanted him to share more of himself with her—she wanted to see into him as Sadie apparently had.
“Sadie, you’d better get some rest now.” Annabelle stood in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest, her voice bearing that same disturbing edge. “Doc Hadley’s orders, remember?”
“I’ll be back to visit soon.” Kathryn brushed a kiss to Sadie’s forehead. Lord, let her feel your presence. Touch her with your healing hand.
Then she watched, moved by Gabe’s tenderness as he bent down and silently, lovingly, laid his large hand atop Sadie’s small one on the bedcovers. But Sadie didn’t respond; she’d already slipped back into sleep.
“Annabelle, are you sure everything’s all right?” Kathryn asked, following her onto the back porch. The evening air, cool and clean with a hint of coming fall, felt rejuvenating after being inside.
“I’ll wait in the wagon,” Gabe offered. “Good to see you again, Miss Annabelle.”
“Yeah, you too, Gabe,” Annabelle answered after a moment, barely glancing at him. Her hands gripped the porch railing.
Kathryn joined her, now certain something was wrong. “Annabelle, what is it? I can tell something’s not right.”
Annabelle stared off at some point in the distance. “Tell me something, Kathryn. Do you still miss your husband? I mean, like you used to?”
Not following her, Kathryn frowned. “Annabelle, you’re acting very strangely.”
“Just answer my question.” Her voice grew softer. “Please.”
“Well, yes. Of course I still miss Larson.” Kathryn searched for the right words. “I always thought you considered me foolish for saying this, but even after all this time, I still feel him with me. I’m coming to realize, however, that this presence I feel is simply my memory of him—the memories of our life together. They’re a gift from God, and they’ve helped me through some very lonely days.” She shrugged and looked down at her hands covering her baby. “Perhaps it’s God’s way of giving me time to grieve and move on with my life. After all, Larson is dead,” she said slowly, letting the words hang in the air. There, she’d finally said it aloud. “And I’ll soon give birth to our child.”
“Did you love him? I mean . . . really love him?”
Wondering at this line of questioning, Kathryn nodded. “Yes, I loved Larson. Our marriage wasn’t ideal, but I did love my husband, very much. There’s something I’ve never told anyone else, and I hesitate to share it with you now. . . .” She wanted to share with her friend how much of Larson’s heart God had chosen to reveal to her through having stayed here briefly, through knowing her and Sadie. “Larson had a difficult time trusting people, and trusting me specifically. Whenever we came into town, he was right by my side. Ranch hands were never allowed to come by the cabin.” Kathryn closed her eyes, remembering. “The day before Larson left last December, a young man came to see me. We were friends. That’s all. But Larson’s view of life was often distorted because of his upbringing.”
Annabelle’s expression was patient, taking everything in.
Kathryn wondered if she was doing the right thing in telling Annabelle this, but something within urged her to continue. “My husband was raised in a brothel, Annabelle. His mother was . . . a . . .”
“A whore,” Annabelle supplied in the barest of whispers, and seeing Kathryn’s nod, Annabelle looked away.
“Yes. I never knew his mother. She died when Larson was sixteen. I share this with you to say that staying here, seeing this place, seeing this life,” she added gently, “has revealed a part of my husband’s heart that I’d never glimpsed before. That he never would let me see. And with good reason.” Kathryn shook her head, trying to make some sense of it all. “I don’t know if things would’ve ever changed for me and Larson or if he could’ve ever learned to trust me completely. Marriage takes trust, pure and simple. Trust is something that’s difficult to earn in a relationship, and once broken . . . it’s even harder to regain.” She let out a breath as tears rose to her eyes. “But the time has come for me to stop looking back on what my life was and to start looking forward to what it will be.”
Annabelle seemed to weigh this for a moment, then nodded.
Kathryn briefly considered whether she should share her next thought or not. “There is a man I’ve met who I’ve grown to care for very deeply. I’m not sure how he f—”
“Is it Jacob?” Annabelle asked, her voice sounding tight again.
“Yes,” Kathryn answered after a moment, wondering how Annabelle knew. “Don’t get me wrong. Jacob’s never given me any indication that we’re anything more than friends to him. Truth be told, I’m actually surprised by my feelings.”
“Have you told him?”
Kathryn’s eyes widened. “Of course not, and I won’t. It wouldn’t be proper.”
Annabelle stared at her for a moment. “What about Matthew Taylor?”
Kathryn couldn’t help but smile. “You’re so full of questions today, Annabelle. It’s not like you.” When Annabelle didn’t say anything further, Kathryn shrugged her shoulders at the question.
“Matthew Taylor is a very nice man, and he’s been so kind to me during all of this. I know he has feelings for me—he’s made that clear. I do care for him. . . .”
“But do you love him?”
Kathryn started to answer, then stopped herself. Did she love Matthew Taylor? She certainly felt affection for him, she was grateful for his help and the way he desired to care for her, but love him . . .
“No, Annabelle. I don’t love Matthew Taylor. My affections for him don’t extend that far. Matthew is an honorable man and will make a fine husband. No doubt, God is already preparing a special lady to be his wife someday.”
A wounded look slipped into Annabelle’s gaze before she turned away, and if Kathryn hadn’t known better she might have guessed that something she’d said had hurt her. Then a picture flashed in her mind—the night Matthew Taylor had been at the haberdashery with the news of Larson’s body being found. Annabelle had been there and had commented on how attractive Matthew was. Kathryn thought she remembered a spark of interest on Annabelle’s part. But as she recalled, and understood to a certain degree, Matthew’s reaction to Annabelle had been far less enthusiastic. Outwardly cordial, but with an unexpected coolness that surprised her, and that spoke to something much deeper than a moment of social unease for Matthew. The following morning, right in front of Annabelle, he’d insisted she not accompany them to the undertaker’s office, advising that Kathryn shouldn’t be seen with a woman like her.
Not knowing what to say, what else to do, Kathryn reached over and drew Annabelle to her. Surprisingly, Annabelle fully returned her embrace. Lord, would you redeem Annabelle’s life from the pit, like you’ve redeemed mine? Help her to surrender her heart to you.And would you bring a man into her life who would love her like you love your church? A man after your own heart who would gladly give his life for hers and cherish her beyond words. Who will forgive her debt because of the great debt he’s been forgiven.
Conviction suddenly pricked Kathryn’s heart as she realized she was describing a man just . . . like . . . Jacob.
By the time Larson neared the edge of town, his breath came heavy and the bay mare’s coat was slick with lather. Miss Maudie’s words kept playing through his mind. “Kathryn’s gone into town to visit a friend.”
The look Annabelle had given him that morning still pierced him. He couldn’t get it out of his head. Reaching town, he reined in the mount and prayed he wasn’t too late.
After leaving the brothel earlier that day, he’d taken the opportunity to buy supplies, but in reality he’d needed time to try to figure out what to do next. On his way back to Casaroja, ranch hands had enlisted his help in rounding up some strays, and by the time he arrived back, Kathryn was gone.
The brothel came into view, and Larson rode around to the back. When he saw them together on the back porch, and Gabe waiting by the wagon, time slowed to a crawl.
Both women looked up at the same time. Annabelle’s expression was as he remembered—disapproving and defensive—and Larson knew in that moment that he was too late. She’d already told Kathryn everything.
He dismounted, barely able to hold a thought in his head, much less try and piece together an explanation for Kathryn. His legs felt as though they might buckle at any moment.
“Jacob!”
Hearing the name, seeing Kathryn’s smile, Larson’s heart started beating again. She called me Jacob. The enthusiasm in his wife’s voice, the joy in her expression at seeing him, acted like a balm. He turned his head slightly, hoping Annabelle would know he was looking at her. The woman’s expression was a mask, with her emotions safely tucked behind it. He nodded to her, but her eyes revealed nothing. She hugged Kathryn, then walked back inside and closed the door.
Holding onto the railing, Kathryn carefully descended the steps. “What brings you back to town so soon?”
“I came to check on Sadie.” Kathryn nodded, but her transparency at being so happy to see him forced Larson’s honesty. “Actually, Miss Maudie told me you’d come into town and I figured I’d find you here.”
Her eyes sparkled at the admission, and Larson wished he’d been truthful from the start. He wished he’d been truthful about so many things, but it was too late for that now.
“So what did you come to see me about?”
He opened his mouth with a ready reply—one born from months of practiced deception—but then he caught himself. Both coveting and loathing the anonymity he’d worked so hard to create, he looked into Kathryn’s face, her sepia-brown eyes so full of life and hope. Her lips, partially open, a smile teasing their full curves. “I came to see you, Kathryn. I just came to see you.”
A blush swept her face, and Larson wondered again how, in all the years of living with this woman, he could have missed so much about who she was.
“Thank you again for last night, Jacob. It was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
He nodded, remembering that she’d said that to him last night but this time experiencing a keen mixture of pleasure, and pain, at her statement.
He helped her into the wagon, where Gabe was now seated, and then swung up onto his mount. As Gabe maneuvered the wagon down the alley, movement from a second-story window drew Larson’s attention. Annabelle was staring down.
He hesitated, then raised a hand.
She didn’t move. He prodded his horse to follow the wagon’s path and looked back before they rounded the corner. Annabelle’s palm was pressed flat against the windowpane in silent answer.
He didn’t know what had compelled Annabelle to keep his secret, but Larson thanked God for her and for her love for Kathryn. Annabelle knew what was best in the situation, just as he did.
Now if he could only love his wife enough to let her go.