Rebecca Hagan Lee - [Borrowed Brides 01] (30 page)

Duncan ushered his grandson inside, urging Reese to make himself comfortable. “We’ll talk as we eat,” he told Reese when Mary arrived a few minutes later, carrying a tray with enough food for two hungry men.

Reese nodded his agreement, but waited until his cousin left the cabin to begin.

“How can I help ye?” Duncan asked, reaching for a piece of fried bread and the honey pot.

“I’ve done a terrible thing,” Reese admitted. “Dishonored myself and someone I care about.” Reese bowed his head and waited for his grandfather to speak.

“I can’t believe ye would do such a thing,” Duncan said.

Reese took a sip of steaming coffee. “I have, Grandfather. And I feel very badly about it.”

“Then ye must make it right so ye’ll feel good about yourself again, laddie,” Duncan pronounced simply.

“That’s the problem. I don’t know how to make it right. I don’t know what to do. Help me do the right thing,” Reese begged.

Duncan studied his grandson. Reese had always made him proud. It was hard for him to believe Reese could do something dishonorable to himself or to anyone. But Duncan could tell from the look on Reese’s face that he felt he had dishonored someone. There were very few times Reese had sought his counsel. His grandson was a proud, confident man, sure of himself and his place in the world. If he came to Duncan seeking guidance, it was because Reese felt he needed it. This was a serious matter.

“Tell me what it is ye’ve done,” Duncan said. “Then maybe I’ll know how to help ye.”

Reese poured another cup of coffee for himself and his grandfather, then settled back in his chair and began to talk. He told Duncan the truth about his grand scheme to gain a legal heir without having to declare his feelings before God and man. Reese hadn’t had to wait at the altar for a bride who might or might not show up. He had simply purchased a mother for his child. His emotions hadn’t been involved. It was a logical business transaction. He’d paid Faith enough money to insure her appearance before a judge.

Reese finished relating the events, then sat quietly gazing into the fireplace, waiting for Duncan to speak. The plan that had once sounded so grand to his ears, so clever, now sounded tawdry, like the scheme of a swindler.

“Ye mean you didn’t stand up with the lass? Ye sent your cousin in yer place?” Duncan was outraged. “Ye mean to tell me that ye plan to take the lass’s child and keep it? For money? And never allow her to see it again?”

Reese nodded his head without speaking.

“I can’t help ye with this, lad.” Duncan shook his head. “I’m heartsore and disappointed in ye. There’s only one way ye can make this right and I canna do it for ye. Do ye understand?” Duncan’s voice rose in agitation. His gaze sought the gaze of his grandson. Their eyes met and locked. “Ye must face your greatest fear.”

Reese understood what his grandfather was telling him, but he wasn’t sure he could do it.

“It will be easy if you love the lass,” Duncan assured him. “Ye do love her, don’t ye?”

“I don’t know,” Reese confided. “I don’t know what love is anymore. I loved Gwendolyn…”

“Bah! That shallow creature?” Duncan scoffed. “Ye didn’t love her. Ye loved the idea of marrying her. Of thumbing yer nose at high society.” He gazed at Reese. “She didn’t hurt yer heart, laddie.” He gestured for Reese to keep quiet when he opened his mouth to defend himself. “She hurt yer pride.”

“What should I do about Faith?” Reese stood up, tossed the dregs of his coffee into the fireplace and began to pace. Deep in his heart he knew what to do, but he wanted Duncan to confirm it.

“I dinna raise a fool,” Duncan reminded him. “Ye know what to do. Marry the lass for real. Beg her on yer knees if ye have to. Or send her home—with her child.”

“I can’t.” A desperate, tortured expression haunted Reese’s eyes.

It broke Duncan’s heart to see it, but he refused to pity his grandson. Duncan turned his back to Reese. “Then I’ll have nothing more to do with ye until ye come to yer senses.”

Reese walked to the door.

“One more thing, lad.” Duncan didn’t turn to face Reese, but called over his shoulder. “I’ll have yer word that ye won’t touch the lass unless ye plan to marry her.”

“Grandfather…”

“Yer word, mon.”

“You have it,” Reese said, lowering his head to walk out the cabin door.

* * *

Something was wrong. Faith could feel it in the air. There was a definite rift in the family. Over the past two months, the atmosphere surrounding the dining table was tense, strained. Duncan and Elizabeth no longer came to the main house for meals. Their food was delivered to their cabin on trays. And Reese stalked around the ranch like a wounded animal, lashing out at his loved ones. Acting as if he’d lost his best friend.

Faith hated to see the pain on his face. She wanted to go to him, to soothe him, but she was afraid. Unsure of her welcome. Reese hadn’t shared her bed since the night she’d surprised him. Faith ached to help him, but she was too weary, too disheartened, to risk his wrath.

She knew she was partly responsible for the crisis in Reese’s family. She could see it in the pitying glances cast her way, sense it in the way her name was spoken, but she had no idea what had caused the turn of events.

Faith decided to confront Mary as they worked inside Elizabeth’s glass-enclosed herb garden, harvesting the last of the fall crop of herbs, and filling the ground with bulbs for spring. Mary did the actual work, digging and planting. In her ninth month of pregnancy, Faith was relegated to handing Mary the tools and bulbs.

Faith searched for a diplomatic way to broach the subject, then decided to be blunt. “Mary, will you tell me what’s going on? I know something is wrong.”

Mary wiped the dirt from her apron, then sat back on her heels. “It’s not for me to tell.”

“Please, I know it concerns Reese and I think it concerns me as well. I have a right to know.”

“Reese has dishonored himself and someone we all care about.” She studied Faith’s taut features. “I don’t know the details. I don’t want to know them, but I do know that until Reese regains his honor Grandfather won’t speak to him or sit at his table.”

“Reese would never dishonor himself!” Faith declared hotly, “Or anyone else. Your grandfather is wrong.” She stretched her arms above her head, then lowered them and began to rub absently at the ache in her back.

“Reese told grandfather himself,” Mary said.

“Then Reese is wrong,” Faith stubbornly insisted. “Who does Reese think he’s dishonored?”

Mary didn’t answer. She reached for a trowel and began digging another hole in the ground.

“It’s me, isn’t it?”

Mary looked up and met the worried gaze of her friend. “Yes.”

“I knew it,” Faith whispered. “That stupid, thickheaded Scots-Cherokee, whatever else, man!” Faith said, borrowing Aunt Tempy’s favorite phrase and expanding on the theme. “And just how does he think he dishonored me?” she demanded.

“He didn’t marry you,” Mary replied. “He sent my brother in his place. That’s all I know about it,” she warned in order to fend off any more questions. “He didn’t bother to stand up with you in person.”

Faith’s temper soared. It was bad enough to pretend to be something she wasn’t. Now, thanks to Reese, everyone on the ranch knew she was a fake! “It was legal! David said it was perfectly legal. I never wanted to get married in the first place. Who said I’d stand up in a church with Reese Jordan anyway? He never even gave me a ring. How does he know I’d have him even if he asked?” She stormed back and forth in front of Mary’s neat row of bulbs.

“He doesn’t,” Mary said. “And I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to bring himself to ask you to stand up in church with him.”

Faith swung around to face Mary. “Why?”

“He’s afraid.”

“That’s absurd. Reese afraid of a church?” Faith scoffed at the idea, but a tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her of the truth of Tempy’s words when she’d told Faith Reese was afraid to touch her. She dug her fist into the small of her back to relieve the tension knotted there. “I don’t believe it.”

“He’s not afraid of the church. He’s afraid of being humiliated again. Of being stood up at the altar.”

“What woman in her right mind would leave Reese Jordan waiting at the altar?” Faith asked, half amused by the incredible thought.

“A woman determined to humiliate him. A woman who used Reese to set an example for all other ‘half-breed’ upstarts who thought they could share a place in ‘polite’ Boston society.” Mary began to explain. “A proper lady. Her name was Gwendolyn…”

“That…That…” As Mary completed her story, Faith searched her sheltered vocabulary for a word bad enough. “Bitch!” she swore for the first time in her life. “To humiliate such a proud man because… Why, it’s no wonder he felt he had to
hire
a…a mother for his child!”

“You love him, don’t you?” Mary interrupted Faith’s vengeful tirade.

“He’s a stubborn fool.” Faith turned and looked toward the back door of the house where Reese was working in his study. “But so am I. I love him with all my heart. I should have told him months ago. I don’t know if it will change anything, but at least he’ll hear the words from my lips before he forces me to leave him.” Faith started out of the greenhouse, then stopped in her tracks. Slowly she turned to face Mary, her face a mask of confusion.

“What is it?” Mary jumped to her feet, alarmed.

“I’m wet,” Faith whispered, embarrassed. “There’s water trickling down my leg.”

“Dear Lord,” Mary murmured. “It’s the baby.” She grabbed Faith by the arm, urgently guiding her to the kitchen door. “Can you walk?”

* * *

Could she walk? It seemed to Faith she’d been walking for hours. She had kept a steady pace around the bedroom long before Dr. Kevin arrived with a noticeably pregnant Temperance in tow. Faith had been walking since the agony began. She was tired, so tired. And it hurt so much. She just wanted to lie down and rest, but Sarah wouldn’t hear of it. She and Reese took turns walking Faith around the room.

They were arguing about it. She could hear Kevin insisting that Sarah let Faith lie down. Sarah shook her head, speaking rapidly in Cherokee, refusing to consider the idea.

“What’s she saying?” Kevin asked Reese, who was busy supporting most of Faith’s weight. “I can’t understand her when she gets excited.”

“She says no,” Reese told him. “She says it’s too early to let Faith lie down.” Reese’s face was whiter than Kevin had ever seen it. Faith’s labor was exacting a toll on him, too. “She says Cherokee women walk until the pains get very close.” He repeated his aunt’s words, but privately he agreed with Kevin. He wanted Faith’s ordeal to end. He pleaded silently with Sarah to allow Faith to lie down.

“Faith is not Cherokee, dammit!” Kevin exploded. “Besides,
I’m
the doctor!”

“The baby is part Cherokee.” Temperance touched his elbow. “Faith said she wanted her child born in the Cherokee tradition.”

“Temperance, the baby, is
not
doing the walking,” Kevin pointed out. “Our…Faith is.”

Faith panted through another strong contraction. “Walk,” she whispered to Reese when it was over. “Walk.” She took a step, determined to keep walking.

“All right,” Kevin conceded, “She can walk a while longer. But when I think she’s had enough, she’s going to bed. Understand?” Everyone nodded obediently except Sarah, who ignored Kevin’s blustering and continued to prepare for the child’s arrival.

“Enough!” Kevin roared half an hour later, when Faith’s contractions were so close together she could barely move. Reese had been half-carrying, half-dragging, her for the past twenty-five minutes.

Sarah shook her head.

“Don’t shake your head at me, woman!” Kevin warned. “She’s going in the bed!” He nodded at Reese who lifted Faith into his arms.” Still, Sarah shook her head, speaking hurriedly and gesturing with her hands.

“She says the bed’s too soft,” Reese translated. “She says Faith should squat down.”

“Absolutely not!” Kevin thundered. “I’ll not have my first grandchild fall on his head trying to be born!”

“What?”
Reese shifted his attention from Faith to Kevin, then turned to Tempy. She nodded in confirmation. “Holy Mary, Mother of God!” Kevin’s favorite oath sprang from Reese’s lips.

“That’s right, lad,” Kevin said. “
My
grandchild,” he repeated for emphasis. “Faith is our daughter. Mine and Temperance’s.” Kevin spoke clearly, confidently. “Now, my boy, gently place
my
daughter on that bed so I can bring your child into the world.”

Reese spared a glance in Sarah’s direction, but did as he was told. He was too shocked by Kevin’s pronouncement to do otherwise. Taking a great deal of care not to hurt her, Reese lowered Faith to the bed.

“Now,” Kevin ordered, rolling up his sleeves and washing his hands, “step back out of the way.”

Reese stood firm. The baby might be Kevin’s grandchild, and he still wasn’t totally convinced of that, but, dammit, it was his child! He refused to leave Faith to endure the agony by herself.

A short while later Reese was wishing he’d had the good sense to leave. Every one of Faith’s anguished screams stabbed him right through the heart. He became paler by the minute. Just when Reese feared he would faint and disgrace himself completely, his child was born.

“Temperance, my darling,” Kevin crowed. “We’ve got ourselves a grandchild.” He eased the baby out of the birth canal, laughing and crying at the same time as the infant let out a lusty squall.

Faith heard Kevin’s words, but she was too tired to make sense of them. Later, she promised herself. Later, she would sort everything out. But first she wanted to see her baby. She wanted to see the miracle she and Reese had created. Just once before she closed her eyes.

“What is it?” she asked, pushing herself up, trying to see.

Temperance hurried to her side, the infant tucked securely in her arms. “You have a daughter, Faith,” Temperance told her. “A beautiful, little girl.”

She gently placed the baby in Faith’s arms, then helped Faith sit up against the pillows. Temperance opened the blanket covering the tiny bundle so Faith could get her first look at her baby’s tiny face.