Lincoln County Series 1-3 (33 page)

Afterwards, Cameron stood as tall and strong as possible during the many condolences she received. The weight of each one piled on another like heavy stones keeping her locked in place. After a while, she grew numb and the words of well-meaning folks dissipated before reaching her ears. She pulled her thoughts towards the baby, in its third month, and she hoped with all of her heart that she’d have her misery under control before baby Jackson entered the world. It would be a cruel thing to do to Andrew’s child, if she couldn’t.

Cameron was so caught up in her own grief, she hadn’t taken note until this moment that Jake stood outside the throng of people. Desiring to welcome him to the fold, she sought to meet his eyes, but he wouldn’t look her way. He stood, leaning against a tree with his hat pulled low over his face. Perhaps that was his way of grieving. If she, too, could do so in isolation, she’d welcome the opportunity with open arms. Still, she wanted, no, needed to talk with him. She searched out the length of the line of mourners, believing she could not take any more sympathetic words. Blessed Lacey saw her distress and began to steer people away. She overheard Lacey say that they could pay their respects later at the hotel, if inclined. Sneaking away from it all, Cameron made her way to Jake.

*** *** ***

He saw her coming. Jake braced himself, never having been on the receiving end of a woman’s grief and also never having been the reason for her loss. Cameron’s face was covered in part by a veil of some sort, and he couldn’t make out her features. Although he knew she’d have small patches of red sprinkled across her nose and cheekbones, her trademark when she cried. He knew this sadly, because he’d been responsible for her tears more times than he cared to count. There was a small incline of grassy knoll from where he stood and she stood. To help her up to him would mean he had to touch her. Seeing her intent on making her way to him, he ushered her up by the crook of her skin and bone arm. His insides curled, wishing he was the one buried six feet deep and not her beloved. Desperately, he wanted to see her face. It was hard enough not knowing when her wrath was going to pour down on him for all to see and hear.

Surprisingly, she sat on the cold and dewy earth as if too exhausted to move another inch. Puzzled at this he didn’t know if he was to join her or remain as he was. Neither said a word for several long and tormenting minutes. He looked down at the top of her head and saw her shoulders shaking slightly and further pain squeezed his heart. He got down to her level, waiting still, welcoming all blame.

Finally soft words reached his ears. “Lacey told me what happened. But… I need to hear it from you, Jake.”

This wasn’t what he wanted. He was ready to take a hit, not rehash the horrible moments and the happenings on the trail. Especially, he couldn’t detail Andrew’s last words down to his last breath.

She lifted the black veil from her face and looked straight at him, waiting for the reply he couldn’t dig deep enough to find.

“Tell me.”

When had she become so grown up and confident?

Never before could he deny Cameron, and it appeared nothing had changed. He couldn’t do so now either. She looked as though knowing meant everything to her. Maybe replaying it would punish him further and with that enlightenment he found he could dig up the answer.

He omitted the promise that would make her ill and ended his recollection with the truth. “He died a hero, Cameron. He saved Bethany’s life. I only wish it had been me.”

“You mustn’t say that.”

He blinked back astonishment. Yes, he must say that, it was the way it should have been.

She continued her absurd line of thinking. “If you say that, you take away what he meant to do. He saved Bethany and…” She choked out a sob and said with slight anger, “He would do it again, I know he would.”

Jake’s hand was mid-air, ready to comfort her, but he held back. She was angry with Andrew? He supposed that could make sense to a point. She might not admit it, but he did choose to sacrifice his life and her happiness for someone Jake did not deem worthy of it. And his thoughts just now confirmed why Andrew was the better man of the two. Jake was selfish enough to have let Bethany die if it meant a life with Cameron. Guilt seized him and his hand went to rest at his side.

Jake winced as she pressed a firm hand on his thigh, then became stiff with anxiety. If she’d wanted to hurt him, this would be a way to do it. He couldn’t bear to live with or without her touch, and worse, his thoughts were inexcusable on the very day of her husband’s funeral.

She said simply, “I will be forever grateful to you for being there with him… in… the end.”

Cameron lifted her hand in a way that prompted him to ease her from the ground. She righted herself and walked away. Completely caught off guard at not receiving what he deserved, all he could do was watch this new and mature woman walk to the fresh mound in the earth and kneel in prayer.

*** *** ***

It had been a week since her beloved had been buried and all was beginning to settle upon her, just as the snow had its first fall and settled upon the earth. It was untainted, pure white and had covered Andrew’s grave like a blanket. The reality of her widowhood hit full force this morning, and for the first time. Possibly acceptance hadn’t come sooner because she’d been away from him for a month prior to his… death. It wasn’t as if his life was taken away abruptly. It had been a torturous, slow-going process, preparing her one day at a time. So when this morning arrived and she visited his grave as she did every morning, the sharp pains in her heart were relentless. Stabbing over and over. Never again would she see him, touch his skin, inhale his freshness. He would not see his child grow up, he would not become a grandfather, he would not share a life that was meant for her. Unable to help herself, she doubled over and clenched her abdomen, uncaring who heard her cries, sure to frighten any unlucky observer.

She was unmindful of the cold and wetness seeping through her cotton skirts, but when she came to herself she knew this had to be her final day of hopelessness. Andrew had loved her and she’d loved him. Sitting up straighter, she swiped away her tears with a gloved hand. They created something beautiful, and she would be strong for his child. She had issues to work out with God, but not from bitterness or weak faith. She needed His healing. Laying a hand upon her belly, she prayed as best she could. She blessed the baby and resolved to be a good example of the preacher’s wife, to do all she could to keep Andrew’s memory as he lived—a man whose faith never wavered and who loved without reservation.

*** *** ***

The ache for what could have been gnawed away at Jake’s insides. As if Cameron would have him anyway, wasn’t really in question. It was indeed his punishment to have Andrew offer up his wife, the only woman who’d managed to capture his heart, and then to have Jake take on a conscience and let her be. He sat on his heels. He’d just visited the grave and now watched Cameron, vaguely grateful to have missed her there. He considered the assortment of emotions she appeared to be going through and his heart hitched. She was a twenty-two-year-old widow and there was nothing he could have done differently to change that for her. She was within reach and she wasn’t. She was no longer the intimidated young woman he once knew who might have run to him for the saving. No, she had come into herself at last, and he admired the woman she had turned out to be.

He rose to leave, should she misinterpret his presence, and as he did so, he saw her hands slide to her belly. He’d almost forgot. The sight was a grim reminder that Andrew had left her a gift—at least she had the babe.

Chapter Seven

With the onslaught of winter, Cameron was unable to visit the grave every morning. It was difficult not to feel her connection with Andrew when she laid a hand upon the headstone. But she wouldn’t risk another pregnancy and stayed put in the safety of her home. The sharp sound of an axe hitting wood drew her to the window. She grinned. Her brother Thomas was before her, limping around to gather the split log. He stacked it neatly onto her porch and went after another. She would not interfere with his pride by letting him know he’d been seen. Cameron was determined to be a solid and self-capable widow, and she’d returned home instead of living with the ease and comfort of Lacey’s Place. But she was beyond thrilled to have this chore done for her. It wasn’t that she had not been tempted, nearly daily, to live with her friend, but she was done leaning on others, always taking the easy way out. She wanted to prove to herself that she could do this, and she wanted to depend solely upon God. Putting herself through this trial was the only way. Once Thomas had a generous stack of wood near her door, she opened it wide and greeted him.

“Thomas, I have a meal of ham and sweet potatoes for you. Come inside.” Long ago she learned to not be overly affectionate with him. It was a challenge, but if she was ever too excessive in expressing love or gratitude, she’d lose whatever ground she had gained with him over the past few years. As it were, she marveled at their growing relationship, once non-existent. He followed her inside, and she held the door open for him as he took a moment to kick snow from his boots against the frame.

She served him a hefty portion and set it on the table. “It’s good of you to stop by and provide wood for me.”

“It’s nothing.” He took a seat, she noted he was careful not to select Andrew’s empty chair. She also noticed his sidelong glance at her growing belly.

“I’m going to need a couple of new dresses, aren’t I?” she jested. He was a man of few words so she carried every conversation they’d ever had. Today she did not mind, forgetting after three weeks alone how much having company meant to her.

He put a bite of ham to his lips and said, “Whatever you need, you’ll have it. I’ve already set you up with credit at the mercantile.”

Mortification rushed to her cheeks. She felt their hotness with the palms of her hands. “I never meant… Certainly Thomas I was jesting. I was commenting on my girth, nothing more.”

Finally he looked at her and said something she was hardly expecting. “I intended for you to live on the ranch, yet you remain stubborn and insist on being alone here. So I will provide for you, anything you want or need.” He shoveled another slice into his mouth. “And just so we’re clear, this is not up for discussion.”

He managed to berate her and make her feel like a child and if these words had been spoken by anyone but Thomas, she would have let them have a piece of her mind on the matter. But this was her brother and any affection they had for one another had been not only hard fought, but hard won. She swallowed the natural defensive retort she felt rising in her throat and took what he said for what it was. He was making up for their lost years as brother and sister, and she’d let him. She still had to prove herself capable in many other ways and didn’t feel like allowing Thomas to provide for her too much of a compromise.

“Yes, sir,” she answered.

He provided her with a cocked eyebrow and she held firm to her smart aleck response. He deserved it, being as bossy and demanding as he was. As usual, he’d given up on dealing with her, finished the rest of his food and rose from the chair. His visit had come and gone too quickly and she readied herself for another long and lonely night. But now she would oblige herself with a warm fire, knowing she needn’t be so conservative of her wood supply.

Needing a physical touch of comfort she risked her pride and asked, “Thomas?”

He cleared his throat as if already fearing what was to come.

“Care to hug me good-bye?”

It was a brief embrace, but it met her need. She stepped back from him and he adjusted his coat. “Blast it, Cameron! Won’t you come home to the ranch?”

Despite his cursing way of letting her know she was wanted, she smiled. He’d called his home her own. He looked at her queerly, no doubt wondering about her satisfied smile and what was going on in her head. “This is my home, soon to be my baby’s as well. Though you don’t know what your invitation means to me.”

Looking outside she wasn’t sure she liked the way the weather had turned. “Ride careful, Thomas. It’s snowing awful hard.”

Blatantly, he ignored her concern by not acknowledging it in any way. He merely took her in with one last good and long look, as if debating whether or not to throw her on the back of his horse against her will and bring her to some sense. He shook his head, then disappeared into the swirling whiteness.

*** *** ***

While the snow was drifting sideways, Jake wondered if he might wait another day before leaving. But then he had an image of Cameron, of Andrew’s grave, and thoughts of the unborn baby, and he knew he couldn’t wait another moment. Shrugging off concern for the weather, he placed the last of his needed supplies into his saddlebag and went to let his employee know his expectations on manning the Gun Shop, and to tell him he’d be gone for an undetermined amount of time.

The day before, he paid a visit to Sheriff Ed Randall and asked for a current list of wanted men. Tucking the four posters with crudely etched drawings and last known locations in the front pocket of his duster, Jake patted them down securely. This was his livelihood, what drove him to keep his mind steady and focused on what his life was to be like and it was settled. Cameron was officially released from him. He was itching to be on the trail again and there was a need to fulfill his unnatural urge and get justice done by any means possible. He’d had it with criminals and felt no mercy for anyone working against the law.