Montana Rose (25 page)

“You’re sure pretty now that your belly isn’t big with Griff ’s whelp.”

Cassie nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the familiar voice.

Wade’s voice slurred. “I should have had you when you were between men.”

He staggered a little as he leaned over Cassie, and she smelled the sharp, stale odor of whiskey on his breath. She stepped away from him, but he snaked out his arm and pulled her hard against him. “I’ve yet to have my turn with you, china doll. I reckon I’ll have at you before we’re finished.”

Red was there before Cassie could even look around for help. He pulled Wade’s arm away from her and tucked her behind his back. “You’re drunk, Sawyer. And you’re insulting my wife. Go somewhere and sleep it off.”

Peeking around Red’s stalwart body, Cassie saw that the winter hadn’t been kind to Wade. Her winter had been so splendid that she’d gone long stretches without even thinking of the horror of Wade’s visit to the ranch. Now it all came rushing back.

His eyes were streaked with veins and red-rimmed from too much drink. A beard grizzled his sunken cheeks, and behind the beard, his teeth were yellowed and stained. She saw in his soulless eyes the knowledge a man gained from long nights spent in debauchery. Cassie shuddered when she thought of what her life might have become if Red hadn’t claimed her that day.

She leaned fully against the strength of Red’s back and whispered so softly only he could hear her, “I love you.”

Red’s hand came around her back and rested on her waist for a brief moment, telling her that he’d heard. Then his full attention was back on Wade.

Cassie was taken by surprise by her beloved husband’s voice. She’d expected anger. Instead she heard only kindness.

“Wade, you’ve got to get yourself straightened out. Talk to me. Let’s just sit and talk. You’re wasting your life. You don’t really want Cassie. She’s my wife and we love each other. No man wants a woman who doesn’t want him. What you think is longing for her is just part of the emptiness that’s inside you. God can fill that emptiness. Forget about Cassie and start worrying about your soul.”

Red took a step closer to Wade. “You’re still a young man. You’ve got plenty of years to find a wife and have a family. You’ve got a ranch. You need sons to pass that ranch on to. You need daughters to soften your heart with their smiles. Don’t throw your best years away on drink and the Golden Butte women and hate. Please talk to me. I can tell you about how faith in Jesus can help you find your way down the right path.”

Red laid his hand on Wade’s shoulder.

What she saw in Wade astounded her. Longing. Wade’s eyes were riveted on Red’s, and in his expression, she saw a longing that ran so deep it bordered on desperation. For the first time she felt something other than fear and revulsion when she looked at Wade Sawyer. She felt love. She understood what the Bible meant when it said, “Love your enemies ... pray for them which ... persecute you.” She found the compassion to pray for Wade.

“Please,” Red said, “you’ve got intelligence and strength and a good life waiting for you. And if that life isn’t on your father’s ranch, I’ll help you find a life somewhere else.” Red’s voice dropped so low Cassie could barely hear it. “I know how cruel your father is. You need to get away from him for good. Let’s just talk and decide where you can find a new home. I’ll do everything I can to help you find a new path.”

Wade’s eyes shifted from Red to the floor and back to Red, and for a second Cassie could see in Wade’s eyes the willingness to search for a better life.

There were still people in the store. The worship had ended but the fellowship had stretched into the early afternoon. No one had wanted it to end.

Wade took an uncertain step forward toward Red. Then suddenly something visceral and cruel slammed down between Wade and all the people who stood before him. Cassie believed she’d seen with her own eyes a battle between the Lord and Satan fought within Wade’s soul.

He slapped Red’s hand aside. “Save your preachin’ for someone who wants it, Dawson. And enjoy your wife for as long as you can keep her. She’s a woman who needs pretty things around her and I can give ’em to her. She’s for sale and I can outbid you any time I choose.”

Wade wheeled drunkenly away from them and left the store.

Cassie was so close behind Red, she heard him whisper, “He needs You so desperately, Lord. Help me to never give up on him.”

She wrapped her arms around Red’s back and hugged up close against him. “Amen.”

Red held her arms tight around his waist and they stood silently as the tension eased from the room.

Finally a squall from Susannah broke the silence. Red retrieved his baby from Leota Pickett.

As Red hoisted Susannah high in the air to make her squeal with pleasure, Cassie heard Maynard Pickett, Leota’s husband, say, “He’s dangerous, Red. He was gone all winter. After you swore out that complaint against him, no one saw him again till just a few weeks ago. Since he’s been back, he’s gone pure crazy. He isn’t staying at the ranch and I haven’t seen him sober. You watch your back and keep close to Cassie.”

Red nodded and glanced her way.

She held his eyes to make sure he knew she had heard. She wanted his protection but she didn’t want him to keep the truth from her.

Red sighed.

Then Susannah distracted him by kicking him in the stomach a few times and yanking on his hair.

Red settled her on his shoulder and came back across the room. “I’m sorry you had to hear such vile talk from a man, Cassie. No lady should be subjected to that.”

“I’ll not accept your apology. Wade Sawyer is the only one who can apologize for the way he just acted.” Cassie laid her hand on Red’s arm. “I thought for just a moment that he was listening to you. I thought maybe you could reach him.”

Red nodded. “Muriel asked us to lunch. Then I want to get started back.” He looped his arm around her waist and, with his other arm hugging Susannah, moved around the room saying good-bye to his friends.

“They had a girl?” Belle smiled at Muriel. She visited while Seth filled their order.

Belle knew she shouldn’t have ridden to town. She was due to give birth any day. But that was also the reason she
had
to come in. The gap had just now melted open and she needed her larders full before the baby came. Getting to town afterward was hard.

“The most beautiful little girl.” Muriel’s voice softened and her expression made her look twenty years younger.

Belle wondered why Muriel and Seth never had children, but it was too personal of a question to ask.

Seth came back into the store and hoisted another crate. “This is the last of your supplies, Belle.”

Normally, Belle would have worked alongside the storekeeper, but Seth had flatly refused to let Belle lift the heavy boxes. Truth be told, when Sarah was born, Belle wouldn’t have taken Seth’s orders. But she was older now, nearly thirty. Picking up those boxes would have been a strain.

Belle knew she’d started leaving more and more for the girls, too. It wasn’t fair to burden them. No more babies, ever. Never ever.
Please, God, let this be a girl.

She thanked Muriel for the coffee, paid for her supplies, and went out after Seth.

Seth took the two steps down from the board sidewalk that lined Divide’s Main Street. Belle stepped out and nearly fell when she saw Anthony ... coming out of the Golden Butte.

He looked across the hundred or so feet separating them.

The woman on his arm giggled and dashed back inside.

Last fall, Anthony would have slunk away in sullen silence. Now, after a winter of Belle trying to be kinder to him and bringing him into the family, he tipped his hat with narrow, defiant eyes, then turned and followed the woman back inside.

“Belle, why don’t you just kick him out?” Seth set the last crate in her wagon bed and fastened the back end with the rattle of metal on wood.

Belle’s mind had been a thousand miles away—well, in all honestly, more like a hundred or so feet away—awash in fury and humiliation and contempt. “I spent the winter trying to figure out how to be a better wife to him.” She’d never normally have discussed such a thing with anyone, let alone Seth Bates. But what difference did it make? Anthony’s cheating was going on with no effort to hide it. “I’ve been
nice
to that polecat.”

“There’s divorce.” Seth’s grim voice with its shocking suggestion drew Belle’s gaze away from the still-swinging doorway to the Golden Butte. “You don’t have to let him live on your ranch. You don’t have to put up with his low-down ways.”

“Divorce? How am I supposed to manage that?” Belle thought of the lawyer she’d spoken to before she married Anthony. It had required a grueling trip to Helena because no lawyers were closer. It gave ownership of her ranch to her pa if she died, and her pa had promised to leave it as an inheritance to her daughters. It had been a strange thing to arrange, but a few run-ins with Gerald had scared her enough that she’d decided she needed to protect her children in the event of her death. The lawyer had written up the will and she’d forced Anthony to sign before she’d agreed to marry him.

“I don’t know how it works. But I’ve heard of such a thing.”

She knew such things as divorce occurred, but it was a disgrace. Vows were taken before God, and to break those vows was a terrible sin. Plus, Belle knew enough about it that she knew Anthony would have to cooperate, and he’d never give up his two dollars a week. No, divorce wasn’t possible.

Her face burning with anger and embarrassment, she swung up onto the buckboard, her stomach making her awkward, and slapped the reins against her horses’ backs. She left town far behind before she let herself cry. She could hate Anthony. She could hate Seth even for daring to comment on this shame in front of her. But that was all a waste of time when the real reason she’d ended up like this was because she was a fool.

God, what’s missing in me that I keep marrying weaklings? Am I so awful no man with a backbone will have me?

Worse yet, had strong, decent men wanted her, but the missing part of her
needed
a weak man who could be bullied?

Her horses knew the way home, and it was a good thing. The loaded wagon rattled along as tears blinded her. Her head ached with the shame. Her whole body ached as the tears flowed and sobs wracked her.

She’d have never cried like this in front of her girls. And she’d have never let Anthony see her. Pride wouldn’t allow it. But she wasn’t crying over him. He was lower than a snake’s belly, and he had no power to hurt her feelings. She cried over her own stupidity. She cried over what was broken in her to have married so poorly over and over again.

She’d been on the trail nearly two hours, wallowing in her grief, when she realized the ache that seemed to be twisting her body wasn’t coming from disappointment in herself.

It was the baby.

The shock of realizing her laboring had started brought Belle out of the self-pity. She rested her hand on her stomach. It was early yet. She’d have time to get home.

What would become of her if she gave birth alone in the wild country? It was a three-hour ride home on a fast horse. She’d be more like six hours driving the wagon. She’d left long before first light to get this trip done in one day. It was closer to ride back to Divide, but not by much. She had to go home. Her girls needed her.

And she needed her girls. Lindsay had helped bring Sarah when Lindsay was only five years old.

Panic nearly took hold. She considered unhitching the wagon and riding one of the horses, but that suited no purpose. She had about three hours to get home, and that was long enough. Why, the baby wouldn’t come much before morning if things went as usual. She slapped the reins and made the team step up their pace. With the heavily laden wagon, they couldn’t do much better than they were now.

It was a long time before the pangs came again. But they came. Belle prayed for her little unborn daughter, whispered that God would keep them both safe.

The cool spring air gusted around her and the horses kept up their fast walk, the clomp of hoofbeats echoing in the sunset.

The three hours she had estimated shrunk to two. The contractions kept coming, a bit closer each time. Belle saw the rise ahead, the long, treacherous curve of the trail climbing up into the gap that led home. In another hour she’d make it. Not home, but through that gap, on her own land. That was home enough for her. She just might unhitch the wagon at that point, if the pangs hadn’t gotten too hard.

As she struggled to move her horses along, she heard something behind her. A rider. She turned back to see Anthony coming at a fast lope. Belle’s spirits lifted to know she wouldn’t be out here alone any longer. Even Anthony would be better than being alone.

As he drew near, she turned. “Anthony. The baby’s coming. Thank goodness you’ve come. I need help.”

Anthony pulled his horse to a walk as he came up beside her. “What can I do?”

“You can just be with me. I’m a long way from home. I’m scared.”

“Belle Tanner Svendson O’Rourke Santoni scared of something? I doubt it.” He kicked his horse and picked up speed.

“Wait!”

Anthony turned to glare at her, as if she’d asked him to help with chores.

“I need you to stay with me. What if the baby comes before—” A pain hit, cutting off her speech. This one was stronger than the others. She knew her body. She knew how it felt as the birth came. She still had time, but what if she couldn’t drive the team any longer? It would be hard to keep going when the time drew near. She’d need to ride the brake hard all the way down the other side of the gap.

“You’ve never needed me, Belle. Why should you start now?”

Belle couldn’t answer until the pains faded. “Anthony, I have
always
needed you. You’re the one who refused to be part of this family. I could use your help every day.” She thought of how much he could help. She saw him, sitting straight and strong on his horse. His
back
was fine. But they’d been all through that a hundred times. Repeating it wasn’t of any use.