CHAPTER
9

He’s not Paul. He’s not Paul. Tori repeated the words over and over in her mind, wanting desperately to believe them. But the man looked just like her attacker—a face scalded into her memory. Except . . . His eyes were darker. Paul’s had been the golden brown of fresh-baked biscuits not the darker shade of maple syrup. And the tiny red line running along this man’s jaw didn’t fit her recollections, either. Paul’s features had been perfection. Not a flaw in sight. Hence why her friends had died of jealousy when the youngest Crowley son started hanging around the store to chat with her before closing time.

The youngest Crowley. There had been an older brother. Quieter. Kept to himself. Worked at the grist mill until he married and left town to start a farm. Jed. Jed with the darker eyes, the childhood scar, and the crooked nose.

The derringer wobbled in her hand. She blinked. Saw the rest of the room for the first time since the man had entered.

Dear Lord! Is that Lewis? She dropped her gun arm immediately, even as her addled brain recognized that the boy was taller, his face slightly rounder, his wide eyes hazel instead of blue.

“Forgive me,” she whispered, guilt stabbing her breast. Heaven above. She’d drawn her gun with a child in the line of fire! “I . . .” She had to leave. Had to . . .

“Tori?” Ben’s voice. Calm. Strong. Supportive.

But she couldn’t look at him. What must he think of her? A deranged lunatic waving weapons at innocents. Or worse . . .

She closed her eyes and groaned, the sound echoing in the still room like a wounded animal.

He would know. He would fit all the pieces together and know.

Ducking her head, she dropped the derringer on the table and ran. Straight out the door. She didn’t stop when Ben called after her. Not when Lewis jumped to his feet, questions etched on his face. Not even when she reached the wagon. She ran all the way to the end of the drive, not stopping until she reached the road. The road that led to Deer Spring. She turned her back firmly against the town that had turned its back on her, crossed her arms over her middle and stared in the direction of home. Harper’s Station. People who cared. Who needed her. Who saw her as a person of worth. Of value.

Gradually her breathing eased and the silence soaked into her soul. She stood there for several minutes, letting the warm southern breeze brush back her hair and calm her spirit.

“He hurt me, too.”

Tori turned at the low, feminine voice. Frannie stood behind her, her gaze stretching up to the sky.

“Paul,” she clarified, finally bringing her eyes down to meet Tori’s. “He attacked me, too. A couple years before you, I would guess, judging by the age of your boy.”

All Tori could do was stare at the woman, so shocked was she by what she was hearing. Why would this complete stranger tell her such a horrible, intimate secret?

Yet when she looked into Frannie’s face, she didn’t see anger or bitterness or the brokenness Tori so often felt deep inside whenever the memories of that day worked themselves out of the prison where she tried to confine them. No. What she saw in the woman’s face was peace and compassion and astounding courage.

“Jed and I met at a church revival meeting up near Wichita Falls. I fell hard for him. So quiet and serious.” The smile that bloomed on her face radiated adoration. “We started courtin’ soon after. Jed would stop by the farm whenever he was out making deliveries for the mill. I would look for excuses to ride into Deer Spring.” Her eyes sharpened. “Until I met his brother.”

Tori finally found her voice. “What happened?”

Frannie lifted her gaze back to the sky, a shadow dimming her smile. “He was a cocky kid. Competitive, too. Sure any girl would prefer him to his brother and determined to prove it. He tried to woo me away from Jed with charm and wild promises. The attention was flattering, but Jed held my heart, so I turned Paul down. Gently at first, then more adamantly when he refused to accept my decision.

“Then one day when I rode into town to meet Jed at the mill, Paul intercepted me on the road. He told me Jed had been hurt while chopping wood out behind their house that morning and was in bad shape. I spurred my horse and raced to the Crowley house as fast as I could go. Only no one was at home. Mr. Crowley was at the bank, as usual. Mrs. Crowley was out making her social rounds. And Jed, not hurt in the least, was at the mill. Waiting for me. Only I never kept our appointment.

“Paul trapped me in the house and forced his attentions. When he finished, he left me lying on the parlor floor. Shattered. Numb. Destroyed.

“Jed tried to see me for weeks after that, but I told my mother to turn him away. I couldn’t tell him what happened. He’d never believe his charismatic brother capable of such a terrible deed. And even if he did, it would destroy the love that had started to grow between us. I was damaged. Soiled goods. No decent man would ever want me. And I wasn’t sure I wanted one to. The idea of being intimate with a man, even a kind, loving man like Jed, filled me with terror.”

Tori drank in every word, the tale resonating deep within her. The fear, the self-loathing, the shame this brave woman voiced—Tori had felt it all. She still did on occasion.

“How . . .” A tightness in Tori’s throat cut off the question she longed to have answered, the one she sensed could help her find true peace. She inhaled and steadied herself, then tried again. “How did you get past it?”

For the woman must have. Somehow. She was married to the brother of her attacker, a man who bore a horribly strong resemblance to the barbarian who’d hurt her. Yet not only was she married, she’d had children—at least one, if not both, by her husband.

Frannie smiled. “A lot of prayer, and one very patient man.” She strolled a couple strides past Tori, then turned back, a look of regret darkening her eyes. “I never told my parents.” She shook her head. “Foolish, I know. But I was so afraid that it would change the way they looked at me. That my shame would touch them. Defile them. So I kept the secret buried inside. And when my woman’s time came, I thanked God, sure that I would never have to tell anyone. That somehow, I could piece my life back together and pretend that awful day had never happened.

“But secrets fester, and buried pain poisons the soul. Looking back, I’m sure my parents knew something was wrong, yet I think they were afraid of causing me more pain, so when I continued deflecting their questions, they eventually stopped pressing me for answers. But Jed . . . ” A look of pure love flashed across Frannie’s face as her lashes blinked back the moisture gathering in her eyes. “Jed never gave up on me.”

Tori’s heart beat a little faster, pumped a little harder. How many times had she thought the same thing about Ben? Wondered at his persistence. His patience.

“About a month after I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore, Jed stormed my house. His face was battered, his knuckles bleeding, his shirt torn. I was so worried that he’d been seriously hurt, I forgot to keep my guard up. I let him in the back door and started fussing over his wounds. But he grabbed my hands the instant I moved within reach and refused to let me go.

“Earlier that afternoon he’d overheard Paul bragging to one of his cronies about how girls preferred him over his brother. I was proof. Paul claimed that, once he had shown me what being with a real man was like, I turned my back on Jed the same day.”

Frannie bit her lip as if trying to keep her smile contained. “Now, my Jed is a peaceable man, as even tempered as they come. But when he heard Paul’s boast, the truth of what had happened to me must have clicked into place. He suddenly understood that his little brother had forced himself on me, and that was why I’d turned away. Enraged, he lit into Paul like a man possessed. Later I heard that it had taken three men to pull him off.

“Jed’s mama was so incensed over his violent treatment of and foul accusations about her youngest son, she took Paul and boarded a train the next day for an extended visit to her parents’ home in Navarro County. She vowed not to set foot in Deer Spring until Jed was gone.”

Frannie glanced off into the distance, back toward the town her husband had left in order to be with her. “I never knew whether his father believed in Paul’s guilt,” Frannie said, “or if he just wanted his wife back, but he helped Jed buy this piece of land and frame the house.

“In the meantime, Jed courted me. He told me he loved me—that nothing could ever change his feelings, that he wanted me for his wife. Even when I told him that I didn’t think I could ever give myself to him the way a wife should give herself to her husband, he insisted that he wanted me anyway. That he would wait as long as it took.”

Frannie turned her gaze back to Tori and sighed. “Deep inside, I still loved him. Still wanted to be his wife. And most of all, I didn’t want Paul to win, to steal happiness from both Jed and me. So I took a chance and married him. We didn’t consummate the union until our first anniversary. It took me that long to banish Paul’s ghost. Those differences I pointed out to you when you thought Jed was Paul?”

Tori nodded.

“I made a list. A long list of every physical difference I could find. And over time, I trained myself to see the differences instead of the similarities. And I prayed. Every night I prayed.”

Frannie inhaled a deep breath, and the last of the shadows melted away from her gaze. “Did you know that when God cursed Eve after her disobedience in the garden, he hid a blessing in between the pain of childbirth and her subjection to her husband’s rule? He told her ‘ . . . thy desire shall be to thy husband.’ I took that promise to heart and prayed for it every day, prayed that God would give me a desire for my husband. That he would heal the hurt inside of me and free me to love Jed with the physical closeness he deserved. It took months, but little by little my fear receded and my desire grew.”

Frannie reached out and touched Tori’s arm. “Unlock the secrets. Release the shame. The fear. Only truth can fully set you free. And if you have a man who is patient and kind, he’ll listen and understand.”

“Ben.” His name fell from Tori’s lips so easily. She pictured his face. His kind eyes. His protective nature. His . . . wounded head. “Oh, my stars! I left him half-stitched with a needle stuck in the back of his scalp.” Tori whirled around and lunged back toward the house.

Frannie’s laughter echoed behind her. “Don’t worry. Jed will have finished the job for you. I’m sure your man’s all patched up by now.”

Patched up and waiting by the end of the wagon. Tori stumbled to a halt when the large figure straightened and took a single step in her direction.

They both stood there, fifteen yards apart, eyes for no one but each other.

Could she do it? Tori fisted her hands in the fabric of her skirt. Could she tell him her secret? Her stomach knotted as old fear warred with new hope. He’d probably guessed most of it by now anyway, but he didn’t know the worst part. That what had happened was her fault.