Chapter Four

Gretchen cherished her days off under normal circumstances, but with Dirk Martinez in town, circumstances weren’t normal no matter how she looked at it. Before she realized he had returned, Gretchen thought nothing of wandering the town. Now, however, she feared running into him and stayed mostly to her room at the Harvey House.

Today, however, she’d been asked by the manager to drop off some papers at the Santa Fe offices, and since he was tied up with other duties, Gretchen didn’t feel she could refuse. Even if it was her day off. She decided it was foolish to be afraid of Dirk. If he tried to rekindle their relationship, she would just refuse him. She was a strong woman. She’d learned over the years how to manage things on her own, and she wasn’t going to let Dirk take that away from her. Not when he was the reason she’d had to become this way in the first place.

After leaving the papers with a rather stout, matronly clerk, Gretchen decided to take a walk up to the cemetery and think. If things went well, she’d be leaving in less than a week, and then she’d never have to see Dirk again. But was that really what she wanted? It was clear he had some feelings for her. Unfortunately, he could be sure by the way she’d responded to his kiss that she had feelings for him.

Why couldn’t I have just punched him in the mouth? She smiled as she remembered Katiann’s story about a man telling another thank you before hitting him. “I could have said, ‘Thank you for the kiss,’ and then hit him.” The thought made her laugh.

“I like hearing you laugh.”

She froze and turned to find Dirk trailing after her some ten feet behind. “Where did you come from?”

“I saw you at the office and followed you. I need to talk to you.”

Gretchen looked around for any sign of Katiann or anyone else who might keep her from having to be alone with Dirk.

“If you’re looking for Katiann,” he said as if reading her mind, “she’s playing with friends.”

Gretchen sighed and tried not to notice how handsome he was in his double-breasted navy suit. “Aren’t you sweltering in that?”

He nodded. “So maybe we could sit on the porch at the Harvey House. Unless you’d like to go swimming.”

She felt her cheeks grow hot. “The porch is fine, although I don’t see any reason for us to talk.”

“You don’t? I left town on the eve of proposing we spend the rest of our lives together, and then you disappeared completely for ten years, and you don’t think we should talk about it?”

Gretchen started walking toward the Harvey House. “No. It’ll just hurt too much.” She hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

“It doesn’t have to,” he said, catching up to her. “I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to leave without telling you what had happened. I sent a letter. I know I didn’t do it right away . . . I couldn’t. But I sent it after Katiann was born, and it came back to me not even opened.”

She glanced at him. “I never got a letter. I left San Marcial after Oma died. Six months after you left.”

“Katiann was born seven months after I left.”

They had reached the porch, and Gretchen claimed a rocker to avoid having to sit side by side. Unfortunately, Dirk grabbed a chair and pulled it up in front of her, and there was no escape even if she wanted it.

“That last night I was here, after I left you, I went home, and there was a message from my folks. My brother, David, had been in a car accident. I caught the first train out of here—a freighter—and made my way to Kansas City.”

Gretchen listened but tried not to care about anything he had to say. She refused to look him in the eye and instead turned her face downward and stared at her hands.

“My brother was so severely injured that his death was inevitable. By the time I got there, he was barely hanging on. My folks were devastated, and David’s fiancée, Catherine, was so upset that the doctor had sedated her and put her to bed in a room down the hall.”

He paused a moment, and Gretchen couldn’t help but glance up. She saw the pain in his face. She remembered how close he and his brother had been. Dirk had always shared stories of their childhood. They were barely a year apart and had done almost everything together.

“David had told everyone that he wanted to see me alone, and when I went in to talk to him, he asked something of me that would forever change my life—and our future.”

He now had Gretchen’s full attention. She watched as emotions seemed to battle within him. It hurt to see him so pained.

“My brother told me that Catherine was with child. They were to have eloped—he was on his way to pick her up when the accident took place. You must understand that our family is extremely bound by our religious beliefs. What he and Catherine had done would have been condemned, which was why they were in a hurry to marry quietly and right the wrong. It was a matter of honor between brothers.”

“What was?”

“David asked me to marry her. To give his child his name.”

The truth suddenly dawned on Gretchen. “Katiann.”

“Yes.” Dirk leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “You must understand, David and I . . . we were like one. I would have done anything for him, and he for me. He was so grieved over what had happened—not for himself, but for Catherine. She had no family—no one but him. He knew she would be shamed, ostracized, and perhaps even abandoned by the few friends she had if they found out about the baby. He knew nothing about my love for you, my plans to propose. He begged me to marry her, and I promised him I would before I could even consider the consequences. Then he died.”

Gretchen was still trying to process the truth about Katiann. She wasn’t Dirk’s child. She was his niece. “Does Katiann know?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Catherine and I ran off the day after the funeral. We married, and she gave birth seven months later and died from complications. We never pretended to love each other. But we let others believe we were a regular man and wife—that the baby was mine—that we had married out of grief over David. Thankfully, Katiann was tiny, and no one questioned her being born earlier than normal, but I think my folks always knew the truth.

“I wanted to write and tell you what had happened, but while Catherine lived, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I knew I had betrayed you. And I knew if I put pen to paper, I would betray my promise to David. I hated myself for being relieved when Catherine died. She was so unhappy after David’s death, and even expecting a baby didn’t help her with her grief. She would spend hour after hour crying and mourning his loss. I used to fear what it would do to Katiann, but as you can see, she’s a happy little thing.”

“She is. I would never have guessed her to have experienced anything but pure joy in her life.”

“I’ve tried to make her life a good one, but it hasn’t been easy. While my folks were still alive, we lived with them in Kansas City, but then I lost them as well, and Katiann and I were on our own. After that, I hired nannies to help me, and that worked fairly well until the last year or so.”

“Then what happened?”

“Katiann just seemed to outgrow them. She’s gone through a dozen in the last year, and I have my doubts that Mrs. Escalante will be with us much longer—although I have bribed her with more pay.”

Gretchen didn’t know what to say or even think. Dirk’s story was full of tragedy and hardship, as well as love and loyalty. How could she condemn or hate him for being so noble? Yet all those years and not one word . . .

“I still think you could have written me a short note to explain what happened.”

“I wanted to. And after Catherine passed away, I did. I wrote you a long letter, but as I mentioned, it came back to me. You had moved and left no forwarding address.”

“Yes. Before Oma died, I had already thought of becoming a Harvey Girl. I knew Oma wouldn’t be long for this world, and I didn’t want to settle for one of the railroad men begging me to marry them, so I knew I’d have to support myself. I left San Marcial shortly after the funeral, and I haven’t been back since.”

“Why now?”

“Why, indeed. I keep asking myself that very question.” She shook her head. “The official answer is that the house mother for the Harvey House needed a vacation. I was asked to fill in for her. I do that a lot because of my vast experience with the company.”

“I’m surprised we haven’t run into each other before now,” Dirk said, offering her a smile.

She looked away. “It’s so hard to remember those days—those years.”

“I need you to forgive me.” The words were barely audible, but Gretchen heard them clearly.

“Forgive you?” She sighed. “I don’t even know what to think about all of this. For ten years I convinced myself that you were a master of deception and had played me for a fool. Now you tell me a story that, if true, makes you an admirable hero.”

“I’m not a hero or a deceiver. I left you on that night fully planning to marry you. Instead I found myself in a hopeless situation, torn between my loyalty to David and my love for you. I wanted so much to come back to you. I never stopped loving you, Gretchen. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. I never even touched Catherine. I couldn’t, because you’re the one I would have been thinking of.”

She realized what he was saying. He hadn’t been unfaithful to her in any way. To withhold forgiveness would not only go against everything her faith had taught her but would also be cruel. How could she hate him for what he’d done? Katiann might be dead now if not for him.

A light rain began to fall. Rain in the desert was always a mixed blessing, just like Dirk’s confession. On one hand, Gretchen was grateful for knowing the truth, but at the same time it had opened up painful wounds.

Dirk got to his feet. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m hoping you’ll at least think about it. Because I still love you, and God must have a reason for bringing us here together. It can’t just be coincidence, because I don’t believe in them.”

She met his pleading gaze and tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Dirk seemed to understand that she needed time and, without another word, he left the porch and walked away. Gretchen stepped into the rain as if to follow him but stopped.

The rain came a little heavier, and Gretchen watched as the drops hit the parched earth and disappeared. It was like tears from heaven. Tears from the depth of her soul. It wasn’t until she reached up to push back a loose strand of hair that she realized she was crying. It wasn’t just the rain that fell.

“And then what happened?” Nellie Campbell asked as she nursed her infant son.

Unable to think of what else to do, Gretchen had shown up on her friend’s doorstep, rain-drenched and confused. Fortunately, Nellie had been home this time, and after a long, tearful hug of reunion, they were settled in Nellie’s kitchen. “He walked away, and I didn’t do anything to stop him.”

“What a terrible and sad story.”

“But you can’t say anything to anyone. I’m sorry now that I even told you, because it’s critical that Katiann not find out. At least not until Dirk is ready to tell her the truth.”

“Gretchen, you know you can trust me to remain silent. After all, I knew where you’d gone all those years ago, and I said nothing to anyone, just like you asked. Not even to Dirk.” The petite brunette reached over and squeezed Gretchen’s hand. “I won’t betray your trust.”

“I know that. I’m just so overwhelmed. I don’t know what to think, much less do.”

Nellie raised the baby to her shoulder and began to gently burp him. “Do you still love him?”

“Yes.” There was no sense in pretending otherwise. “Ever since I learned he was here, he’s been all I can think about.”

“Then maybe that’s your answer.”

“My answer? I don’t even know for sure what the question is,” Gretchen countered. She got to her feet and paced in Nellie’s large kitchen. “I feel completely confused by all of this.”

“Then maybe you need to spend some time in prayer. Do you remember when your grandmother would tell you that confusion and chaos were the Devil’s tools? She always made me smile when she told us to pray about something, because she believed fervently that prayer was the most powerful of all tools given to Christians.”

Gretchen nodded. “I remember.”

“It’s seen me through many dark nights when my children were sick or when I was uncertain about something.”

The baby boy fell asleep to the rhythm of his mother’s gentle pats, and Gretchen envied the look of complete peace on his face. “I wish I had Baby Gene’s ability to sleep through it all.” She paused by Nellie’s chair and ran her finger down the infant’s cheek. “So soft and sweet.”

“You’ll have one of your own one day. I believe that.” Nellie smiled up at her. “Maybe sooner than you think.”