Robin (24 page)

TWENTY-SIX

              Somewhere in the timber beyond the house an owl hooted its mournful call as Ty stepped onto the porch and lowered himself to the swing. A lamp burned on the small table by the open window and revealed Anna’s mother as she sat in his mother’s favorite chair. Florence Blair had been an incredible help, and he didn’t have the heart to ask her and Anna to leave, especially to journey home in the dark. So far he’d managed to avoid any further confrontation with his so-called fiancée. But the staccato of approaching footsteps signaled that was about to end.

“May I join you?” Anna stood in front of him, arms folded.

              He scooted to one side, and she slid beside him and slipped her hand into his. “How is Miss Wenghold?”

              His shoulders tensed. Perhaps if he could see Anna’s face he could discern whether there was real concern there or merely polite curiosity. “Doc says the next hours, or maybe even days, are critical.”

              “Do you plan for her to stay here until she’s fully recovered?”

              He nodded. “She’ll be here until Doc Mercer tells me she’s well enough to be moved. Then it will be her decision.”

              “But wouldn’t she be more comfortable in her own bed at her uncle’s ranch?”

              Ty laid his head against the back of the swing. Why did she choose now to challenge him? “She’s too critical to move. Doc won’t let anyone in to see her. Not even her uncle.”

              “I don’t want her in our bed, Ty. Couldn’t she at least be moved to another room?”

              “It’s no
t
ou
r
bed, Anna. It was my folks’ bed, in my folks’ room, and she stays where she is.”

              She placed her hand on his chin and turned his head to face her. “What if her head injury leaves her . . . well, even more crippled than she is already? What would become of the little boy? Her uncle couldn’t care for him, and I doubt her mail-order beau would—”

              Ty jumped from the swing with such force that it hit the side of the house. “What do you mean, her mail-order beau? Why would you make a statement like that? Did Robin tell you that?”

              Anna put her hand to her throat. “No. I assumed—”

              “You assumed what?”

              “I saw something that indicated she might—”

              “You sa
w
somethin
g
? What did you see, Anna? And where did you see it?” Ty balled his hands into fists and paced. “Tell me. What exactly did you see?”

              “I saw an advertisement.”

              “And where exactly did you see this? Was it posted publicly? Was it in a newspaper? Tell me. I want to hear it from you.”

              Anna jumped to her feet, hands clenched at her side. “Fine! If you must know, I saw it on the table by your bed––the day I came to tell you that Mother and I were planning this picnic to announce our engagement.” Anger laced her words.

              “And did you happen to see the picture Jacob drew for me on the back of the advertisement?”

              Anna shook her head “No, I . . . I didn’t see a picture. Only the advertisement. I thought . . . I thought maybe you’d answered it.” She toyed with her ring.

              Ty’s pulse pounded in his ears. Could it b
e
Ann
a
was responsible for Robin’s hurried departure and thus her accident? “And because your love for me is so strong, and you trust me implicitly, you were suspicious instead of discussing it with me. Am I correct? Did you tell anyone else what you observed in the privacy o
f
m
y
bedroom?”

              “Anna Kathryn.” Florence Blair stepped from the shadows. “I would be interested in knowing that myself. Ty, please accept my apologies for intruding. I never planned to eavesdrop. However, I couldn’t help but overhear. I was right inside.” She motioned toward the open window.

              Anna flipped her wrist in dismissal. “Mother, this doesn’t concern you. This is between me and Ty.”

              With chin raised, Mrs. Blair turned to face Anna. “Oh, but it does concern me, daughter. I heard you tell Ty we planned this big celebration. You tol
d
m
e
this was Ty’s idea—that he could hardly wait to make the announcement, that in fact he was so anxious to be married he was pressuring you to move the wedding date to early autumn.” Her voice broke. “You lied to me, Anna. I want to know how many other lives you’ve affected with this charade.”

              Anna sank back into the swing. “What makes you think I told anyone, Mother? Why are you so quick to accuse me of bearing tales?”

              Florence clutched Ty’s arm. Her chin quivered and eyes clouded, but she spoke with authority. “Perhaps I question you, my dear, because Henrietta Harvey asked me Sunday morning if the young man who accompanied Robin Wenghold was, by chance, one of her mail-order beaus.”

              Ty groaned. “Anna, surely you must realize that by telling Henrietta you might as well announce it from the rooftops of Cedar Bluff. Why her, of all people?”

              Anna glared at him. “I thought she would be able to tell me if Robin had received letters from men, and if any of them were from you. But I honestly thought she would be sworn to secrecy since Albert is the postmaster.”

              “Secrecy to whom?” Ty shook his head. “Did you think she would tell you and no one else? Are you truly that privileged?” He leaned toward her. “Did you ever tell Robin you saw the advertisement?”

              Anna crossed her arms, her mouth tight.

              Ty lifted her chin. “Look at me, Anna, and for once tell the truth.”

              Her gaze locked on his, dark and defiant. “I only asked if Mr. Benson answered the advertisement.”

              “And when did this conversation take place? Today?” Ty ran his hand through his hair. “Is that why she left in such a hurry? Because you chose today, when practically the entire community was present, to humiliate her regarding something over which she had no control?”

              “How do you know she had no control?" Anna stood, her voice shrill. “I saw the look on your face when they walked into church. You were as surprised as anyone to see your Miss Wenghold on the arm of that man. Who is he, Ty? Do you know him? How do you know he isn’t mail order? Henrietta said Robin got a letter from some man from Chicago. Doesn’t it seem a bit strange that she would be getting correspondence from someone that far away? He could very well be some poor city-slicker looking for an unclaimed treasure who just might be in line to inherit a large Kansas ranch.”

              “I’m wondering”—William Benson strode from the shadows of the wraparound porch— “why my relationship with Robin, or my reason for being here, should concern either one of you?”

              Ty pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t realize you were still up.” The last thing he wanted was another person in on this conversation.

              “Yes, that’s obvious.” William nodded his direction, his eyes narrow and dark. “I owe no one this explanation, but for Robin’s sake I will say this one time, and then consider the topic closed to further discussion.” The muscle in his jaw tightened, and his hands clenched at his sides.

              “I’m here at my own insistence, Miss Blair. Robin and I grew up together. In Chicago, to be exact. We are lifelong friends. I proposed to that sweet girl once before she left. She turned me down. So I invited myself to Kansas to see if I might convince her she made the wrong decision. I can assure you, I answered no advertisement. I came with the intention of staying one month. I will now stay until such time Robin tells me to leave—if God answers my prayer that she survive.”

              He turned on his heel, then hesitated and turned back. “By the way, Morgan, is there somewhere in town where I might send a telegram? I believe Robin’s sisters need to come at once.”

              “Mr. Rempel at the train depot could take care of it for you. Uh . . . could I perhaps help in the purchase of tickets for their travel?”

              William shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll contact my father at the bank and he will see to the arrangements from that end. I’ll go to town first thing in the morning. I pray Robin is still with us then.”

              He turned to Anna. “Where I come from, a gentleman would never divulge his financial situation to a lady. But since you question my integrity I will apprise you of the fact that I could, and would, buy the Feathe
r
an
d
the Hawk should their owners ever decide to sell.”

Ty gazed into the stricken face of Florence Blair. She touched his arm and her hands trembled. “I’m so very sorry, Ty. I so hoped we might be of help to you, and instead this only adds another dimension of pain for us all. I know this is a lot to ask or expect, but do you think it possible someone could hitch up our buggy so we might return to Cedar Bluff?”

              He squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to let you drive across the prairie this time of night. You needn’t leave, Mrs. Blair. Your help has been invaluable, and I’m sure Emma would agree.”

              Anna’s mother shook her head. “Oh dear boy, you remind me so very much of your mother. Never would she admit to any kind of inconvenience or insult placed on her by others. None of us know what this night will bring for sweet Miss Wenghold. I do hate to take you away, but allow this old lady to leave with some bit of dignity, though she must skip out in the dark to retain it.” Her chin quivered, but her lips curved in a faint smile.

              He put his arm around her shoulders and walked her to the door. “And I must insist on accompanying you. I’ll have Rusty hitch your buggy and saddle my horse. We can leave when you are ready.”

“It shan’t take long. Come, Anna. I need your help, and I will brook no further displays of your bad manners.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

              Ty looped Tag’s reins over the hitching post in front of the church. The painfully silent ride alongside the Blair buggy into Cedar Bluff only added to the anger, sorrow, and regret that burned in his gut. A huge question still hung above today. Memories haunted him and the future troubled him. What future? And with whom? Anna? How could they build a marriage upon a foundation of deceit?

              He didn’t bother to light a lamp, but made his way down the aisle and slid into the front bench. A sliver of moonlight beamed onto the small, square table altar and illuminated the open Bible and the gold cross set behind it. Other times he would picture this as God’s finger, showing him the way. Tonight it mocked him
.
Where’s your faith, preacher boy? Don’t you tell others His Word has all the answers? Don’t you remind them to go to the Cross? Are you saying it works for others, but not for you? Are your problems too big—your God too small?

              He knelt and buried his face in his hands. Not since the night Anna walked away from him had he experienced such anguish—such hopelessness. That night he would have given anything for Anna to come back to him. That night there was not another woman or a small boy to consider. A year ago he promised he’d never let himself love again. A year ago there was not Robin or Jacob. That night he promised he’d never forsake his first love—he would always be there. Tonight, he regretted the promise.

              A draft whispered through the room, and the scent of lilacs announced a visitor. He rose and faced the woman destined to become his wife. “What are you doing here, Anna?”

              She approached his bench. “I needed time alone, away from Mother. I didn’t know you were here until I saw Tag tied outside.”

              “Your mother needs you, Anna. She appeared exhausted. Surely you observed that.”

              She sat on the front bench and turned to face him. “We’ve been home for two hours. I made peace with Mother. Now I’ve come to seek forgiveness from the Lord . . . and from you.”

              Two hours? Had he been on his knees for two hours with no answers? He stood and paced. “I’ve replayed the night you walked away from me over and over trying to find an answer. What did I do? Why did you stop loving me? When did you stop loving me? The same questions day after day, night after night.”

              “Ty, please let me—”

              He raised his hand. “I’m not finished. When no answers came, I begged God to help me get past the questions and learn to live without you. I thought He heard my plea. At last I could go to bed at night and not dream of you. I could wake up in the morning and walk and breathe without every step and every breath packed with memories of you.”

              The moonlight streaming through the windows glistened off the tears on her cheeks, but her tears failed to move him. “Then you came back. Why? I’m finding it more difficult each day to believe it has anything to do with your love for me.”

              Anna gazed into the night. “I left because I was frightened. So deep-down afraid that the only thing I thought I could do was run and hope it would go away.”

              He sat beside her. “Frightened of what? Me?”

              She shook her head. “The love you had for this land, for your ranch, scared me to death. I saw you so weary after a day in the hills that you hardly had energy to climb off your horse. I watched men like your father and John Wenghold grow old and tired ahead of their years. I witnessed your own mother’s red, blistered hands in the winter and sunburned face in the summer, working alongside your papa. I didn’t want to compete with wind and grasshoppers and the terrible storms that rage on this prairie. The Hawk is a demanding mistress. She would always come first—and I’ve never been second in anything.” She lowered her gaze.

              “So what changed your mind? The Hawk is still here. My love for this land hasn’t changed. Yet you’ve insisted on our marriage since the day you returned.”

              Anna twisted the ring on her finger. “Nothing I have to say will endear me to you.”

              He gritted his teeth. “Nothing you’ve done since returning has endeared yourself. But try me. I deserve to know.”

              She took the ring from her finger and clutched it in her hand. “While gone this past year, I met a man. He declared his love for me early in our courtship then hesitated to make any further commitment. Returning to Kansas was my way of forcing him to realize he couldn’t live without me.”

              “Then I’m right in assuming this whole thing was nothing more than a charade? And I was a decoy? At what point did you intend to admit what you were doing? At the altar?”

              “I never planned to deceive you. At least not initially. But then I walked into church that Sunday morning, expecting to see your face light up at my presence, and instead I saw your eyes seek those of a stranger sitting with Henrietta Harvey and holding a little boy on her lap.”

              “And the old habit of always winning grew too strong, right? Is being first so important that you would deliberately set out to cause pain and ridicule to another person? And not only to Robin but also to me? You would marry me so you could declare yourself a winner in a contest not even declared? Why?”

              She shrugged. “I told you, I’ve never been second in anything. It frightens me to be anything else.”

              “And you see Robin as competition?”

              Her gaze met his and she gave a faint smile. “No longer competition, Ty. She’s the winner. And I don’t concede often.”

              He slammed his hand on the bench and Anna flinched. “And what has she won, Anna? Humiliation? Embarrassment? An injury so severe she may not survive?"

              Anna handed him the ring and closed his hand around it. “No, Ty. She’s won your heart. I’ve watched you—oh, how I’ve watched you. Did you know your eyes even change color when she enters a room? And tonight, on the porch—you grieved for her. I’m not sure I ever witnessed your heart so openly as I did when you came back to the house after her accident. Not even the night I broke our engagement. Now, I’m breaking it again.” She loosed her clasp on his hand. “You’re free to declare your love for her. You do love her, you know. And I believe she loves you, too. Only she’s too naive to know it. It will be up to you to tell her.”

              Ty studied the ring in his hand then sought her eyes. “I would have married you. You do know that, don’t you?”

              She laid her hand on his arm. “And how foolish and miserable we both would have been. One too selfish and one too honorable to admit they were wrong. I ask your forgiveness, Ty. I’m sorry I’ve caused so much pain . . . to so many people.”

              He lifted her chin. “You have my forgiveness. Now you must forgive yourself.”