Betrayal (25 page)
It was a blistering hot day in early July when Julia Brennan and Peter Collins sat in the two chairs near the desk, their respective spouses standing right behind them. On the other side of the desk was Roland March, attorney-at-law. Rose’s brother had returned to Pine Creek in order to oversee the drafting and signing of the contract.
Just before Julia put pen to paper, she paused to thank God once again. For the new life He’d given her. For the once tired and hungry stranger who had asked for a drink of water and a place to stay while his lame horse rested, the man who had shown her what love should be between a man and a woman. For the ways He’d provided for her, little ways and big ways, ordinary ways and miraculous ways. For the lessons of freedom and security, trust and surrender that she’d learned beneath His grace-filled tutelage. For the ability to know and follow His voice.
Today, she and Hugh would leave Pine Creek. They wouldn’t leave wealthy. The sale of the cattle to the Trents had paid the taxes and Julia’s debt at the mercantile and would give them enough to get settled wherever God led them. And when the trial was over, there would be the ring to sell, a ring as valuable as it was ugly. How amazing that God had provided for her in this way. As for
Sage-hen Ranch, it was about to become the property of Peter and Rose Collins with a non-interest-bearing contract and reasonable annual payments to begin next year.
Roland cleared his throat. “Mrs. Brennan? Are you ready to sign?”
“Yes.” With a nod, she drew in her wandering thoughts and looked at Peter. “But I believe I need to see the down payment first.”
He grinned as he fulfilled her request, putting the money onto the desk and sliding it toward her.
She looked at it, then glanced over her shoulder at Hugh who nodded. Laughing softly, she signed her name to the contract, transferring ownership of Sage-hen Ranch from Julia Grace Brennan to Peter and Rose Collins for a down payment of one dollar.
Julia couldn’t help believing herself the richest woman on the face of the earth.
S
EPTEMBER
1899, F
RENCHMAN’S
B
LUFF
, I
DAHO
Hugh leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, watching as adults and children ate birthday cake and drank punch at a long table set up in the yard behind the mercantile. They were all there to celebrate the eleventh birthday of Charity Murphy, Hugh’s niece by marriage. His sister, Felicia Murphy, sat at one end of the table, cradling her three-month-old son in the crook of her left arm, while her husband, Colin, stood at the other end of the table, serving second slices of birthday cake to those who wanted it. There were a half dozen other kids close to Charity’s age, along with some of their parents, filling up the benches on either side of the table. Laughter and chatter flooded the late summer air.
It surprised Hugh how quickly he and Julia had become a part of the community of Frenchman’s Bluff after their arrival in late July. He’d gone to work on one of the ranches outside of town, and Julia had set up housekeeping in the cottage behind the mercantile. He thought it likely they would put down roots in this small town, make a home, God willing, even start a family. Goodness knows, Julia’s mother was hopeful for a grandchild to spoil. On their visit
to Grand Coeur last month, Madeline had said she was considering selling her shop and moving to Boise City so she would be close when a baby came. He’d been afraid such talk would sadden Julia, remind her of the babies she’d lost. But instead, her eyes had alighted with joy, as if hearing her mother’s words had given her permission to hope once again for a child.
His sister looked in his direction, smiled, and waved. He grinned and waved back.
That was another thing that surprised Hugh. The deep bond he’d felt with Felicia from the first moment they were reunited. In some ways, it was as if they’d never been apart.
The only way the party scene before him could be better was if their little sister, Diana, was there too. Felicia hadn’t been all that hard to find once he’d started looking. But Diana? It looked as if that might not be as easy. All of his attempts so far had met with dead ends.
From behind him came Julia’s soft voice. “Why are you standing here by yourself? Don’t you want some cake?”
Wordlessly, he reached for her, drawing her to his side.
“You’re thinking about Diana, aren’t you?”
He chuckled. “How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Read my mind.”
“It isn’t your mind I read, Hugh,” she answered, love woven into her words. “It’s your heart.”
He lowered his head and kissed her on the lips.
He didn’t suppose life would always be rosy. He knew difficult times would come. Rain fell on the just and unjust, like the Good Book said. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to have children, no matter how much they were wanted. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to find Diana and have his whole family together again. But whatever
happened or didn’t happen, God would be with them. The Lord would make the path clear before them and see them through.
Life was sometimes hard.
God was always good.
On that they could depend.
BOOK #3 IN THE WHERE THE HEART LIVES SERIES
B
OISE
, I
DAHO
, M
AY
1900
To say the least, it was inconsiderate of Diana’s almost-dead husband to show up at her engagement party.
Conversations around the supper table fell silent as guests began to notice the tall, dashing stranger standing in the doorway to the dining room. He wore formal evening attire, as if he too had been invited to the festivities.
Brook Calhoun, Diana’s soon-to-be fiancé, leaned toward her. “Who is it?”
“It’s Tyson,” she answered, disbelieving the words as they came out of her mouth.
“Tyson …
Applegate
?”
“Yes.”
“Great Scott!”
Tyson was looking at her now. He wore a smile, but there was nothing friendly about the expression.
Diana pushed back her chair from the table. “I’ll go and speak with him.” She looked quickly around the table at their guests. “Please, everyone, go on with your supper. I won’t be but a moment.” She could only hope that what she’d said was true.
She hurried toward the entrance, avoiding eye contact with her mother.
“It’s good to see you, Diana,” Tyson said when she reached him.
“Please. Not here. Come into the library.” She moved past him and down the hall, trusting that he would follow her.
He did — and closed the door behind him.
Diana turned around. “You’re supposed to be dead.” It wasn’t a particularly kind thing to say, but it was the truth. Tomorrow, Tyson Applegate was scheduled to be declared legally dead in court, making her a wealthy widow and free to marry Brook.
But there he stood. Very much alive. Nothing about him appeared frail or sickly or remotely close to death. He looked every bit as handsome, healthy, and virile as he had on their wedding day eight years before. Eight years tomorrow, to be exact.
Oh, how she’d loved him then.
Oh, how she’d come to despise him in the years since.
Tyson looked at the bookshelf near his right shoulder. “Nice library. Mr. Calhoun must be well-read, judging by this collection of books.”
“What is it you want, Tyson?”
He looked at her again, his eyebrows raised, as if surprised by her question. “What do I want? Why, my wife, of course.”
“You don’t want me. You never wanted me.” She hated the
small break in her voice. She would rather die than let him see any weakness in her. She wasn’t the infatuated girl he’d wedded, bedded, and abandoned. She was a woman, independent, with a mind and will of her own.
His expression turned somber. “You’re wrong about that, Diana. I do want you. In fact, I need you.”
A sharp laugh escaped her.
“I suppose I have that coming.” He took a step closer to her.
“Perhaps you should tell me where you’ve been all this time.”
“Yes, you deserve an explanation. But I don’t believe this is the time or the place. You have guests waiting for you in the dining room. And I imagine you and Mr. Calhoun will have a few things to discuss as well. I believe a living husband puts a damper on your wedding plans.”
She turned her back toward him and covered her face with her hands. This was a nightmare. Surely it was a nightmare and she would wake up at any moment to find Tyson Applegate gone once more. Dead, the way everyone — even his father — had thought of him for the past two years.
“Diana.” His voice was low and near. Too near. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be unkind. This wasn’t the best way for you to find out that I’m still among the living. But when I learned the reason for this supper party, I felt I had no choice but to come at once.”
If he touched her, she wasn’t sure what she would do. Scream. Cry. Faint. Perhaps all three.
“Here, Diana. This is where you’ll find me.”
She looked over her shoulder. He was holding a calling card for her to take.
“Please come and see me in the morning. There is much we must sort out.”
An understatement, if ever she’d heard one. She took the card.
“Until tomorrow,” he said, then turned and left the library.
Suddenly weak in the knees, Diana sank onto the nearby sofa. The shaking started somewhere deep within and then worked its way out to her limbs. She hugged herself lest she shatter into a thousand pieces.
Tyson was alive. He was alive and he’d returned and he’d come for her. He wanted his wife.
“He never wanted me,” she whispered to the empty room. “Never.”
The door to the library opened again. This time it was Brook who entered. Wordlessly, he sat beside her, but he didn’t touch her. Didn’t put a hand on the small of her back or an arm around her shoulders. Didn’t offer any sort of comfort. Just sat there in stiff silence.
It was a few moments before she had the strength to look at him. “Brook, I … I don’t know what to say. I thought he was dead. His father thought he was dead. All this time without a word from him.”
“What did he say to you?”
She drew in a shaky breath. “He said he wants his wife.”
“Ah.”
That wasn’t the response she wanted. She wanted him to hop to his feet and swear he would never let her go. She wanted him to promise to fight a duel rather than let her return to the man who had forsaken her so cruelly.
She looked down at the card she held in her right hand. “He asked me to go to see him in the morning.”
Say you’ll go with me. Please, Brook. Say you want to go with me
.
Her fiancé stood. “I’d best return to our guests. They’re wondering what has happened, and I shall have to explain as best I
can. I will make your excuses. I’m sure you are not up to joining us again.”
Fighting tears, she said, “Thank you.”
“Would you like me to send your mother to you?”
“Please.”
“Good night, Diana.”
Although he hadn’t said so, Brook had just ended their engagement. She was not free to marry. Not him. Not any man. The only way she would be free now was if she divorced Tyson. And freedom from Tyson through a divorce would not bring Brook back into her life. A man steeped in convention, Brook was not the sort who would marry a divorcée. Society’s opinion mattered a great deal to him.
She covered her face with her hands once again and began to weep in earnest. Tyson Applegate had ruined her life for the second time in eight years.
R
OBIN
L
EE
H
ATCHER
is the bestselling author of over sixty-five books. Her well-drawn characters and heartwarming stories of faith, courage, and love have earned her both critical acclaim and the devotion of readers. Her numerous awards include the Christy Award for Excellence in Christian Fiction, two RITA Awards for Best Inspirational Romance, and the Romance Writers of America Lifetime Achievement Award. R obin currently resides in Idaho.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Praise for Robin Lee Hatcher’s
WHERE THE HEART LIVES SERIES
Belonging
is vintage Robin Lee Hatcher: a touching, tender love story, filled with genuine conflict and characters that quietly build a nest in your heart. A skillful blend of description, emotion, and spiritual reflection,
Belonging
will sweep you away to late nineteenth-century Idaho, glad to have a seasoned novelist driving your buckboard wagon with a sure hand. By story’s end you’ll no doubt sigh with relief, smile with delight, and turn back to page one for a second visit with our determined Miss K. Loved it!
Liz Curtis Higgs
New York Times bestselling author of
Mine Is the Night
[
Betrayal
is] a beautiful love story from the deft pen of Robin Lee Hatcher who’s never been better at her craft!
Tamera Alexander
bestselling author of To Whisper Her Name
and A Lasting Impression
W
HERE THE
H
EART
L
IVES
S
ERIES
Belonging
Betrayal
T
HE
S
ISTERS OF
B
ETHLEHEM
S
PRINGS
S
ERIES