Bittersweet (27 page)

“Laney, you matter more than they do.”

She shook her head. “I need time alone. Mrs. O’Sullivan—she might need another woman.” As soon as she spoke the words, Laney cringed.
She has Ivy now
.

“I understand what you mean. I’ll go and make sure Josh behaves himself.” Ruth gave her a quick hug and dashed out the door. “Wait! I’m coming, too!”

Laney raced upstairs, peeled out of the dress that was supposed to enchant Galen, and shoved it into the bottom of her wardrobe. Every stitch she’d sewn had been filled with hope. She never wanted to see that dress again.

After changing into her riding skirt, Laney slipped down the back stairs and out to the stable. Toledo had occurred to be there.

He’d been in church that morning; he knew what had occurred.

“I’ll saddle up a horse for you.”

Laney dipped her head in acknowledgment. In a matter of minutes, she was racing across their land, but she knew she’d never outrun her heartache.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I
t ain’t busted, but it shore is nasty,” Ivy declared.

Galen flipped the hem of Ma’s gown back down to cover her ankle. He’d come to the same conclusion as Ivy, but having her volunteer her unsought opinion grated on his already-raw nerves. “Ma, hold on to me.” He looped her arm around his neck.

“Ishy, run ahead and git the tin bucket of water outta the springhouse.”

“This is a bunch of nonsense,” Ma protested. “I can walk.”

Galen ignored her and carried her back to the house.

“I’ll wrap it up in a cold water towel. ’Twon’t get so swoll up thataway.” Ivy dashed over to the bed. “Mr. O’Sullivan, you lay her down here, and I’ll tuck a pillow ’neath her foot. Mrs. O’Sullivan, ma’am, don’t mean you no disrespect, but I aim to peel off them stockin’s of yourn.”

Galen stepped away from the bed and turned his back. Judging from the way Ma’s ankle had already started to swell, her stocking needed to come off. Ma never made an issue out of being the only female in the family; she managed to bathe and dress when the boys were otherwise occupied. Had he needed to, Galen would have pulled off her stocking; but since another woman was present, it seemed better to let Ma keep her modesty.
Even if it is
Ivy
.

Ishmael rushed into the house. “I brung the pail, sis. Water’s real nice and cool. I cain hie back to town if ’n you need me to fetch the doctor.”

“That’s not necessary,” Ma said in a firm tone.

“Doc cain’t do nothin’ more’n what we’ll do,” Ivy stated with great certainty. “I got me some willow bark in a cigar box. I’ll bile up a tea that’ll holp you feel loads better.”

“Miz O’Sullivan—” Ishmael set the pail beside his sister and patted Ma’s shoulder with an awkward gentleness—“I spied a nice straight sycamore branch t’other day. I’ll fetch it back and carve you a walkin’ stick right away.”

“She’s a short dab of a woman, Ishy. Only make it up to yore hip.”

“Ishmael is leaving.” Galen enunciated the words in low, forceful tone.

Ivy stopped wringing the dishcloth. The only sound in the cabin was the steady drip-drip-drip of water back into the bucket. Carefully, she draped the cloth over the rim. With measured steps, Ivy went to the cupboard and pulled out the metal sheet Ma used for baking cookies. She covered it with a folded towel, eased it beneath Ma’s foot, then wrapped the cold cloth around her ankle.

It wasn’t until Ivy straightened back up and turned to her brother that Galen noticed tears slipping down her gaunt cheeks. Ishmael unashamedly dragged his sleeve across his own eyes, then held her tight. She clung to him, so he shifted her to the side and kept her in the shelter of his arm as he crossed the room and out the door.

Galen turned back toward Ma. Tears rained down her face, too. “If you’re hurting so, I’ll go fetch Doc.”

She shook her head. “All they have is each other.”

“He changed that behind a shotgun today.” Galen rubbed the back of his neck. “There has to be a way out of this. Laney—” “Laney is Josh’s sister. You’ve been saying she’s a pest for a long while.”

Galen frowned. “Ma, you know good and well things changed.”

“And they changed again today. You cannot look back, son. You must look ahead.” Ma tried to scoot up higher in bed and grimaced. He leaned over and helped her, then stayed close as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Galen-mine, tell me you never made a pledge to Laney. You didn’t yet, did you?”

“Not in so many words, but my intent was clear.”

“We all hold her dear, and ’tis understandable—you wantin’ her for your bride. Words can’t hold the sadness of setting her aside, but ’tis what you must do. The lass is young yet, Galenmine. You’ve said so yourself often enough. With you married, she’ll realize ’tis time for her to set aside a youthful fancy.”

“She’s a woman, not a child.” Galen straightened up. “I made the mistake of not realizing it sooner. I’ll not dismiss what we feel for each other.”

“You’re a married man now. Honor demands you set aside other thoughts and dreams. You must dedicate yourself to the woman who shares our name now.”

In some ways, Ma was right.
By spending time with Ivy and pressing
her for answers, I can discover who the father is and still have the marriage
annulled. Then I’ll be free to wed Laney
.

Ivy’s sobs and Ishmael’s half-whispered words filtered in on the stiff winter breeze. “… write. Someone read to you …

Best … needs his pa.”

Ma’s hand slipped over the quilt and her fingers laced with Galen’s. “The baby deserves to know his uncle.”

“Ma, ’tis sentiment speaking. Not half an hour ago, you worried Ishmael would try to do me harm.”

“Nay, son.” Her head moved from side to side on the pillow, and Galen wasn’t sure whether it was from pain or that she dis- agreed with what he’d said. “You mistook my meaning. I didn’t fret that he’d hurt you; I worried for what you might be tempted to do to him.”

“Never once have I done a man harm.”

“I know.” She let out a pained sigh. “But this is different. A man embarrassed before others and made to do something against his will—that’s a dangerous man.”

Galen stared at her.

Ivy’s sobs filled the silence. Galen didn’t feel a single scrap of compassion for her.
She did this to herself. The last thing I’ll do is allow
her brother to stay. They conspired to do this. Without him, she’ll break faster
and identify who the father is
.

“You’re angry, son, but don’t make them suffer.”

“Angry doesn’t begin to describe—” “‘Be ye angry, and sin not,”’ Ma quoted from the Scripture.

She raised her voice. “Ivy! Ishmael can stay.”

Galen’s clenched his jaw and fisted his hands.

“Ma’am?” Ishmael’s voice sounded unsteady.

“You heard me.” She didn’t look away from Galen. “You’re hardworking. That’s not changed. Life goes on.”

Respect for his mother kept him silent, but only just barely. Galen stared at her.

“I’ll go muck the stable right now! Sis—she’ll gather up eggs.

You won’t be sorry!”

Ivy and Ishmael left the porch. Galen half growled, “How could you—” Ma held up a hand to silence him. “’Tis already hard enough, this predicament. Ishmael only did what he had to, to make things right.”

Disbelief iced Galen’s spine. With exaggerated slowness, he splayed his fingers and pulled away from her touch.

“The sooner you own up to this, the better things will go. We’ll all make the best of it.”

“You think I’ve been with her.” Galen stomped out of the house and straight to the barn. Ishmael had just grabbed the shovel. “You.”

Ishmael turned around.

Galen stabbed his finger in the air to punctuate his words. “From now on, all decisions and orders come from me. You can stay—but only by my rules. You and your sister stay apart. Unless I’m there, you can’t speak to her. Not one word. The first time I catch you breaking that order, you’re out of here.”

Ishmael leaned on the shovel. “If ’n you say so.”

“I say so.” An old saying ran through Galen’s mind.
Keep your
friends close and your enemies closer
. His eyes narrowed. “I’m moving to the tack room. You’ll sleep there, too. Clean it out.”

Once Laney rode off and no longer had an audience, her restraint shattered. She couldn’t help herself—she was drawn to the edge of the Broken P where their land ended … and the O’Sullivans’ began.

Countless times she’d come here and dismounted. Sitting on the split rail fence, she’d faced Galen’s home and dreamed of the day when she’d be his bride. In the past weeks, she’d come to hope—even believe—that the Lord had answered her prayers and she’d soon be Galen’s wife.

She stayed atop the gelding as memories flitted through her mind—of how Galen’s callused hands folded and his voice took on a stillness whenever he prayed. The way his chuckles could grow into a delightful belly laugh. The sureness in his hands as he worked with horses, the way he always stomped his feet in a right-left-right sequence to knock the mud off his boots on rainy days. Myriad details swamped her, driving home how she’d completely lost her heart to him … and how she thought he’d lost his heart, as well.

But he’d married Ivy.

The fence was no longer a flimsy barrier between them that would come down in a short time. It now represented something entirely different. It might as well be a brick wall. Her dreams lay in tatters on her side; his future rested with Ivy. And there was going to be a child.

Ivy had been married in church, wearing the green dress Laney not only gave the material for, but also helped stitch.
All this time
I’ve tried to be her friend, but she was stealing the man I love. And now she’s
carrying his baby
.

Things Galen had said and done now came back and took on a completely different meaning.
It feels awkward, but I’m asking you to
be kind to Ivy… . I want her to feel welcomed… . I can’t explain it now.
It’s … well … complicated
. Though he loved ribs, he’d given Ivy his whole one and been satisfied to eat the remainder of Laney’s. In church today, he admitted he’d been alone with her—taken her food and blankets, too.

Laney wept until her eyes no longer teared, but her heart continued to ache with an emptiness she knew would never be filled. At some point, she had turned loose of her reins, and her gelding wandered where he willed. Finally, when he stopped, Laney became aware of her surroundings again.

Trees grew in clumps here along the roadside. The road followed a serpentine path along the dips and swells of the foothills. From her vantage point, she could see only this small stretch of the dirt road. Where it started and ended would be a complete mystery to someone who didn’t live in the area. Less than a mile away, the earth suddenly dropped into an unexpected ravine.

I used to know where I was going. Now everything has fallen away. What
will I do?

The wind shifted direction and grew far stronger. Her gelding turned and shook his mane. Sensing his restlessness, Laney used light pressure with her knees to direct him to an outcropping of rocks. Once there she slid off, gathered the reins, and decided to walk.
I can’t go home yet. I can’t
. In the past, when she’d needed advice, she’d gone to Mrs. O’Sullivan.
That’s impossible now
.

Laney heard a noise in the distance and led her horse farther from the road. Though she couldn’t see anything, she knew it would be Josh and Ruth returning from the O’Sullivans’. She didn’t want to talk to them just yet.

Harnesses jingled and wooden wheels made a gritty, lumbering sound over the dirt road. “Whoa.”

Laney stepped back into shadows.

“I know I saw her.” Worry strained Ruth’s voice. “She doesn’t even have a wrap, Josh.”

“Laney Lou,” he called, using his pet name for her—the one he’d crooned to her in the dark the night he came to tell her their mother had died, the one he’d boomed with joy the day she’d come home from finishing school. His tone held nothing but loving concern.

That fact undid her. Tears filled her eyes again.
I thought I’d
cried myself out. I don’t want anyone to see me like this
.