CHAPTER
29

Abigail leaned close to her husband, an ache throbbing in her chest. Zach. So stoic, so strong and capable. Yet wounded, and determined to hide that wound from the world. Even from family.

But not from her.

Her heart so full of love she could barely stand it, she shifted up onto her knees directly in front of him. His eyes followed her, watching, waiting to see what she would do. His fingers twitched on the hand that dangled over his knee, almost as if he wanted to reach for her, but he made no move.

So she made it for him. She captured those fingers and clasped their joined hands to her thumping heart.

“None of us deserve absolution, Zach. It is a gift freely given. A gift that is waiting for you too. All you need to do is accept it.”

“How?” His voice rasped. “Confession without repentance gains me nothing. And I can’t repent if I’m not sorry.”

“You are sorry,” she insisted, every protective instinct roaring to life inside her. “You’re so sorry it’s eating you up inside.”

He shook his head and dropped his gaze to the ground. “Not sorry enough to regret my actions. They achieved the ends I needed. They saved my brother’s life and gave my sister a home.”

What could she say to that? Without repentance there could be no forgiveness, yet she could see the craving in him, the weariness of carrying this burden. Her soul longed to help him, but how?

Lord, show me what to—

Before she could complete the prayer, a whisper of an idea swirled through her mind.

“What if something else could have achieved those same ends?” she asked. “Would you regret your actions then? If there had been another choice?”

Zach stiffened, and the edges of his mouth turned down. “There was no other choice. Playing what if is pointless.”

“There’s always another choice.” Open his heart, Lord. Let him hear me. “When Rosalind agreed to let that photographer exploit her, she did it because she thought she had no other choice. It was the only option she could see to earn the money she needed to buy medicine for our father. But just because it was the only option she could see doesn’t mean it was the only option available.”

Zach said nothing, just stared at her hard enough that she wanted to squirm. She could practically hear the justifications in his head, claiming that Rosalind’s situation was different. Yet it wasn’t. Not really. Not at the core.

“Rosalind believed it was her responsibility to care for our father, just as you believed it was your responsibility to care for your siblings.”

“They were my responsibility.” Zach yanked his hand away from her, and the harsh movement felt as if he were tearing himself from her heart.

Nevertheless, Abigail held her course, an inner voice warning that if she gave up now, she might not get a second chance. “Yes, they were your responsibility, but not yours alone.”

“What are you talking about? I was all they had.” Tension radiated off him. He grabbed at the grass with a fist.

“No.” Abigail kept her voice soft. Gentle. He didn’t need accusation. He needed truth spoken in love. And, oh, how she loved him. “No, Zach. You weren’t all they had. They had God.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked.

“God always provides other options for his people when they are tempted to take an unrighteous path. But if we depend only on ourselves to solve our problems, we narrow our vision and see none of those options. Rosalind could have come to me, she could have taken her worries to the church, or she could have left the outcome solely in God’s hands, even if that meant losing our father sooner than we wished. She did none of those things, however, because she never saw them as options. She was convinced that the burden was hers to bear alone. She was wrong. And so were you.”

Zach clamped his jaw so tight that his teeth hurt. What did she know? She hadn’t been there. She didn’t know what it had been like.

“Did you ever ask for help?” Why did she have to keep prodding at him? Digging into his sore spots? Why couldn’t she just leave it alone? “Approach the minister of the local church to see if someone would take Seth in for a short time until his health improved?”

“And risk some do-gooder breaking up our family?” Zach slashed his hand through the air. “Not a chance!”

“So you let fear about what might happen dictate your actions.”

“What do you know about it?” he shouted.

Shame rammed him in the gut. He had actually shouted. At his wife. The woman he’d sworn to honor and protect. The woman whose opinion mattered to him more than any other.

“Abby. I’m sorry. I . . .” What could he say? He had no excuse. None. He’d lost control.

But instead of shrinking back from him, she smiled. What kind of woman smiled when her bear of a husband roared at her like a wild man? She should be running for the horse and leaving him to rot, not scooting closer and placing her hands on his shoulders.

“I know quite a lot about it.” Her fingers felt small and delicate against his shoulders as she squeezed, yet he recognized her strength. “I’ve chosen fear over faith more times than I can count,” she admitted. “And every time I did, I ended up with regrets. When I chose faith, I didn’t always get the outcome I wanted—my mother still died, as did my father—but I never regretted my choice, because I felt God beside me, holding my hand and lending me strength.

“You’re a good man, Zacharias Hamilton. I admire your dedication to your family, your willingness to sacrifice anything to protect and provide for them. For us. But I love you too much to sit back and watch this old wound fester and destroy your soul.”

Zach’s head snapped up, and his gaze zeroed in on her like a sharpshooter eyeing his target. Had she just said she loved him?

Her cheeks reddened beneath his scrutiny, and her lashes lowered, hiding her eyes from him, but he didn’t look away. Couldn’t. Not with her words surging through his brain like a flash flood banging ten-foot tree limbs against his skull.

I love you too much . . .

Did she mean it? Every instinct honed at the poker tables told him it hadn’t been a bluff. Information she hadn’t intended to expose—yes. But not untrue.

His pulse ratcheted up to a full gallop, and light-headedness assailed him. “Abby, I . . .” His throat tightened around the words, refusing to let them out.

They were words he’d never said. Not since the day his mama died. Love made a man vulnerable in a world that required armor and a shield to survive. His father’s world demanded he hide all emotion to prevent his weaknesses from being exploited. The harshness of his grandfather’s world had beaten all softer places from him until only calluses remained. Evie and Seth had reminded him he still owned a heart and taught him how to use it, but not even they had managed to bring forth that three-word utterance from him. Some lessons were just too ingrained. Evie had taken to saying it for him in that teasing way she had, and he’d never denied the charge. But that was as close as he’d come.

His silence condemned him, and razors scraped his shoulders as she pulled her fingers away and sat back on her heels. He followed, unable to stop himself from leaning forward, from preserving whatever closeness he might scavenge.

Her eyes remained downcast, however, refusing to look at him, stealing the sunshine and leaving him cold.

“Just . . .” She pushed to her feet and brushed at her skirt. “Just promise me you’ll think about what I said.”

As if he’d be able to think about anything else.

“Pray about it too.”

He blinked, then realized she hadn’t been talking about her declaration of love but about the subject that had prompted it.

“I will,” he promised, his voice gruff, raw.

He might not be able to give her the words she deserved to hear, but he could give her this. No matter how pointless he found the exercise, he’d do it. He owed her that much.

Abigail finally met his gaze, some of the red fading from her cheeks. “Thank you.”

He swallowed and managed a nod.

A dimple peeked out just a bit before she turned away from him. “I guess our abduction is good and ruined, isn’t it?”

Not if he could help it. He hopped to his feet and whistled to Jack. Abby startled at the shrill sound, and when she caught sight of his horse trotting straight for them, she dodged behind his back.

Zach stood a fraction taller as her hands took hold of his waist. All the secrets they’d shared hadn’t destroyed her trust in him. She still looked to him for protection and security.

She’d stayed. Even when he had uncovered the putrid gash in his soul. There was no drawing back in horror and disgust. No forfeiture of hope, declaring him a lost cause. Not his Abby. She’d rolled up her sleeves and set to doctoring the nasty thing, scouring and prodding in places no one in their right mind would venture. It might have hurt like the very devil and left him with fresh bruises that still throbbed, but he could see the heart behind it. The love behind it.

“The sun hasn’t set yet,” he said as he reached for Jack’s reins. He patted the horse’s neck, then bent to retrieve his coat from the ground. “I say we give it another try.” He shook the dust and grass off his coat, then stuffed his arms in the sleeves and grinned at his wife, hoping it would cover his nervousness.

Don’t give up on us, he silently begged her. Not today or any day hereafter.

He checked the saddle, made sure everything was still secure, then turned and held a hand out to Abigail. “What do you say? I’ll let you do the abducting this time. Give you the reins and let you take Jack wherever you want to go.”

Even if it’s back to the bakery. But please don’t go back to the bakery. Not yet.

Her eyebrows lifted in matching arches. “Anywhere?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m your captive. Completely at your mercy.”

Both dimples appeared, full and deep and adorable as her lips split in a flirtatious smile. Zach’s pulse stuttered, then pounded into a full-out sprint.

“All right, then.” She slipped her hand into his. “Let’s go.”