Betrayal (22 page)

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Authors: Robin Lee Hatcher

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical

BOOK: Betrayal
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The sheriff cocked a brow, as if doubting the man.

“Nothing,” Rogers said.

Lance Noonan looked at Hugh. “Mind showing me what’s in your pockets.”

It was obvious they suspected him of stealing something. Knowing it should have sent Hugh into a panic, but that strange, powerful, wonderful calm continued to blanket him as he stood and reached into his pants-pockets, withdrawing a pocketknife from one and the wages Julia had paid him from another. From his shirt pocket, he pulled a handkerchief. He put the items on the sheriff’s desk.

“Is that it?”

“That’s it.”

The sheriff frowned. “Where were you headed, Brennan?”

“When you found me? Back to Sage-hen. Before that, I was on my way to Boise. Only I changed my mind about leaving just yet. And since I obviously don’t have what you’re looking for, maybe you should tell me what this is about and let me be on my way.”

“Mrs. Grace was robbed.”

His peace was momentarily shaken. “Was she hurt?”

“No. She wasn’t home at the time.”

“And you think I did it.”

“Given your history —” Sheriff Noonan paused to make his point.

Hugh understood. Charlie Prescott knew about his time in prison. The sheriff knew he’d been a thief. And now Julia knew the truth as well.

“Mrs. Grace came home to a house that was ransacked, her money box broken into, and you’d left without a word.”

“I left her a note.” It sounded even more cowardly coming out of his mouth than when he’d first thought about it yesterday.

“She didn’t mention a note to me.”

Hugh rubbed a hand over his face. If he were the sheriff of Pine
Creek, he’d toss him into a cell and throw away the key — and yet the peace persisted. “Was anything else taken?”

“Only other thing missing besides the money was a ring.”

The ring. The one Hugh had seen yesterday morning.

Guilty
, a different voice whispered in his mind. An ugly voice. One meant to shake him.

Hold fast
, came the words that kept him steady.

The office door opened, drawing Hugh’s eyes to it. There in the doorway stood Peter Collins.

“Is it true?” Peter demanded, his gaze shifting to the sheriff. “You’ve arrested Hugh.”

“No.” The sheriff stood. “It isn’t true. I had some questions for him, but he’s not under arrest. Yet.”

A look of relief passed over Peter’s face. “Good, because I can tell you, you’d be making a mistake if you did arrest him. This man would never steal. And definitely not from Julia Grace.”

A sick feeling twisted Hugh’s gut. “Peter, I —”

“I’ve already heard the talk about your time in prison. But that’s in your past. I know the man you are today, Hugh. The other’s over and done with. I can take the measure of a man, and you’re no thief, no matter what you once did or who you once were. I’d stake my life on it.”

Waiting for her husband to come out of the sheriff’s office, Rose sat on the wagon seat, Jemima sleeping in her arms, and prayed. She prayed that Peter would know what to say and do. She prayed that Hugh would be the man she and Peter thought him to be. She prayed that Julia’s faith wouldn’t be shaken. She prayed that the money would be found.

“When’re we goin’ home, Ma?” Eden asked from the wagon bed. “I’m gettin’ hungry.”

“Me too,” Faith chimed in.

“I know, girls. Be patient. Your pa had something to do. We’ll be on our way soon.”

Lord, please work a miracle. I’m pretty sure it’ll take one to clear up this mess
.

The door to the sheriff’s office opened. Peter stepped onto the boardwalk first. A moment later, Hugh Brennan appeared beside him. Both men set their hats on their heads as they looked her way.

“Pa,” Eden called, “we’re hungry. Can we go home now?”

“Sure can,” Peter answered. Then he turned toward Hugh and offered his hand. “I don’t suppose you’d care to ride along with us.”

“No. I need to get to the ranch. I need to talk to Julia.” Hugh took Peter’s hand and shook it. “I appreciate all you said in there.”

“Just spoke the truth.”

Rose saw something flicker across Hugh’s face. She couldn’t say what it was for certain, only that it made her heart ache for him. The two men broke apart. Peter stepped down into the street and up onto the wagon seat. Hugh swung into the saddle.

“Mr. Brennan,” Rose said quickly. “Tell Julia I’m praying for her.”

He gave her a tight smile as he nodded. Then he turned his horse down Main Street and rode off.

Rose went straight back to praying.

Julia held a kitten between her hands and rubbed its soft fur against her cheek. She would need to ask Rose to give the cat and her litter a home. She couldn’t bear to leave Sage-hen without knowing they would be taken care of.

How long after the taxes were due before the sheriff came to evict her? Days? Weeks? A few months? And where would she go when the time came?

“Julia?”

She sucked in a breath. His voice sounded so real. As if he were present instead of just in her head.

“Julia.”

She whirled around.

Hugh stood in the barn doorway, the light at his back, his face hidden in shadows. But it was truly him and not a memory or wishful thinking. He was real and standing before her, and in that instant, she knew in her heart he hadn’t betrayed her. No matter what he’d done or the reason he’d left, she believed in him.

She put the kitten back with its mother, then moved a few steps toward Hugh. “The sheriff’s looking for you.”

“I know. We spoke already.”

“He didn’t arrest you?”

“No.” He shook his head.

She drew in a breath of relief.

“I didn’t steal from you, Julia.”

“I know. I thought you did, for a little while. But I don’t believe it now.”

“I tried to explain in the note.”

“What note?”

Though she couldn’t see it, she heard the frown in his voice. “The sheriff said you didn’t mention one, but I left a note for you. I shouldn’t have done it that way. I should have waited for you, told you the truth in person. I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t find a note. What did it say?”

“How I thought I was doing what was best for you, by leaving. I thought it was best for me too.”

“And I thought you were gone for good.”

“But I was wrong. So I turned around and came back.”

A smile slipped into place on her lips. “You came back.” The
sheriff hadn’t brought him back. He’d come of his own accord. Something warm and wonderful wrapped around her heart.

“Yes.” It was his turn to take a couple of steps forward. “I need to tell you about my past. About the things I did and why I … why I went to prison.”

“Later. Tell me later. After supper.”

“I want you to know everything. No secrets between us. Not any. Just the truth.”

Throat tight, she nodded.

“I love you, Julia.” Another step closer. “You may not want my love, especially after you know what I used to be, but you at least need to know how I feel about you.”

She could see his face clearly now. The faint scar on his right cheek. The lines around his brown eyes and his mouth. The dark stubble that said he hadn’t shaved that morning.

He loved her. He’d returned because he loved her.

“I don’t have much of anything to offer you, Julia. I don’t have any money except what you paid me to work for you. I’ve got a good horse and saddle, a Winchester rifle, and a Bible. I’ve got a strong back, and I’m willing to work hard.”

“When I lose the ranch, I won’t have much more than that myself.”

“Maybe you won’t lose it. Maybe the sheriff can find who took the money and get it back.”

“Maybe.” She didn’t believe it for an instant — and it didn’t matter, now that Hugh was with her again. The idea of leaving Sage-hen no longer frightened her. Not as long as she was with him.

He took another step closer. “Julia Grace, I think it’s time I kissed you.”

Past time
. A surprise, to want a man’s kisses. But she wanted his.

He gathered her close and lowered his head. The first touch of his lips upon hers sent unexpected sensations coursing through her. Startled, she drew back and looked at him, wide-eyed. He let her stay there only a moment before tightening his hold and kissing her again.

How was it possible she’d reached her age — almost thirty! — and been married eleven years and conceived three babies and still never knew a kiss could make her feel like this? Shaken but strong. Shattered but soaring. Lovable and loved.

Hugh gently gripped her upper arms while taking a step back from her. He cleared his throat. “I … uh … I’d better take care of my horse.” His voice was low and tense. Passion smoldered in his eyes.

She saw it and wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t afraid because with the passion she recognized his control of it.

I love you too
, she wanted to tell him, but the words remained lodged in her throat. The last time she’d shared those feelings with anyone, she’d been a child telling her mother. Since then, only God had heard of her devotion. Now it seemed that she didn’t know how to give voice to that emotion, even when she wanted to.

They sat in the parlor after supper, Julia in one chair, Hugh in the other, and he told her his story. About his childhood in the tenements of Chicago. About his father’s drinking and his frequent and lengthy absences. About his mother’s death. About his experiences on the train with the other orphans from Dr. Cray’s Asylum for Little Wanderers. About his father coming for him in Nebraska and their return to Chicago. About his introduction into a life of crime, picking pockets, slipping into homes through open windows. About the night his father stabbed a man who surprised them in
the middle of a robbery and how he left Hugh to be arrested for attempted murder. About the quick trial and the long, hard years in prison. About everything that had eventually brought him into the barnyard at Sage-hen.

She listened with scarcely a change in expression.

Hugh couldn’t remember another time in his life when he had been as honest with anyone, not even his mum. It was hard to ignore the niggle of fear he felt, laying his life bare before this woman he’d come to adore. She might reject him, now that she knew the truth. She might send him away. He couldn’t blame her if she did.

But rather than demanding he clear out, that he put his few things back into the saddlebags and ride off, she told him her story. Some of it — the parts about her husband’s abuse — he’d suspected before now from little things she’d said, from certain looks in her eyes. Some of it — the part about her stillborn babies and the miscarriage — he’d guessed from the small graves on a knoll. But the stories of her childhood in the mining town and her mother’s occupation and how Julia had come to marry Angus Grace, those he couldn’t have guessed.

Gloaming had fallen over the earth by the time she finished. Crickets took up an evening song, the sounds drifting through the open front door along with a fresh breeze. Softly, Julia said, “ ‘And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten.’ ”

Hugh didn’t know the verse, but he knew her words must be from Scripture.

She smiled sadly. “It’s a promise from God that I’ve held onto through the years. When nothing else makes sense to me, I cling to Him and to that promise from His Word.”

He’d told her he loved her. He’d also told her he had nothing to give her. His pockets were empty. Hadn’t her life been difficult
enough? Could he invite her to share his poverty? Was it wrong of him to even consider it? He didn’t want her to go with him only because she’d lost this place. He wanted her to have a choice. She’d had few enough of those in her life. Something he hadn’t understood before. He wanted to do everything in his power to give her that choice.

He stood. “I think I’ll turn in. Been a long day.”

“Yes.” She stood too. Confusion swirled in her eyes.

Although he wanted to take her back into his arms, to hold her, to shelter her, to kiss her, to love her, he didn’t. Although he hoped she would tell him she loved him, she didn’t.

He touched her cheek with his fingertips. “We’ll figure out something, Julia. I promise. We’ll figure out a way for you to keep the ranch.”

TWENTY-SIX

In that moment between dreams and reality, between sleep and wakefulness, Julia envisioned her arms outstretched, her hands turned palms up but tightly clenched. Then she pictured the Lord gently trying to loosen her fists.

Let go, beloved. There isn’t anything you can hang onto that I’m not wanting to replace with something far better. Let go and receive
.

Letting go of Sage-hen meant she could grab hold of Hugh. She could go with him wherever he wanted and be all right. Security was found only in God, and her home would be found only with Hugh.

As a smile played across her mouth, she envisioned her hands again, empty and open and ready to receive.

Before the sun was up, Julia rode to the knoll where her babies were buried. She took with her some wildflowers she’d found growing near the house. Kneeling beneath the gnarled tree, she placed the flowers on the ground, then touched the small headstones with her gloved fingertips, first one, then the other. She’d never had a chance to know them, but she loved them as if she had. She wouldn’t love them less or miss them less if she didn’t live on this ranch.

“I will take you with me in my heart wherever I go,” she said softly.

The sound of cantering hoofbeats caused her to look up. She wasn’t surprised to see Hugh riding toward her. In fact, she realized she’d been expecting him to come to find her.

Love blossomed in her chest, a feeling so strong, so sweet, so all-encompassing that she could scarcely draw breath. She’d thought she would never love or be loved, that she could never entrust her body or soul into another man’s care. But she loved Hugh. She trusted him. She believed in him. When God brought him to Sage-hen, He had changed her mourning into joy, her ashes into something beautiful, and the heaviness of her spirit into songs of praise.

She stood, putting a hand above her eyes to shield them from the rising sun. “You found me.”

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