by Sharon
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program
"Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and
have been used without permission. No
copyright infringement is intended by the author. The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.
“Nick, could you pass the biscuits, please?” Amy asked at
breakfast the next morning. Her brother-in-law passed her the basket, and she
smothered a still-warm biscuit with butter and some of Victoria’s homemade
strawberry preserves. She took a bite and couldn’t stop a pleasurable sound
from escaping her lips. Heath looked amusedly at his wife and turned to Audra.
“Big party tonight, huh, Sis?” he asked her.
Audra nodded. “Mm hm, it’s promising to be great fun. Caroline has the most
wonderful menu planned, and I’m sure the dancing will go on ‘til dawn with that
new band she’s hired.”
Nick looked at her. “And just who’s taking you to this thing?” he asked, an
eyebrow raised.
She pursed her lips, slightly annoyed. “Drew Carson, if you must know” she
answered. “I hope he meets with your approval, big brother,” she added.
“Jarrod…” Amy interrupted, gesturing toward the biscuits. He passed them over
with a smile and she quickly devoured another one.
Nick nodded slowly, his fork stopping in mid-air. “Not a bad guy…but I’ll still
be waiting up for you tonight, young lady,” he said, trying to sound stern.
Audra smiled at him smugly. “Well, it’s going to be a long wait,” she said.
“Several of the girls are spending the night at Caroline’s after the party-
including me!”
“Ah, a regular hen party,” Jarrod teased. “I’m glad I’ll be safe at home, away
from all the cackling!”
His sister sighed and shook her head. “And just what excitement do you
have planned? Let me guess- billiards!”
Heath nodded. “That’s right, Sis. It’s the championship,” he said, chuckling
slightly.
Amy looked at Nick. “Nick, could you pass the-“
Nick interrupted her by holding up a silencing hand. Without a word, he put the
basket of biscuits in front of her. Jarrod quickly moved the butter and
preserves next to the biscuits. “Now you’re all set,” he said, winking at her.
Everyone at the table laughed, including Amy. “It’s like I said last night-
eating and sleeping,” she said ruefully. Heath gave her hand a gentle squeeze
under the table.
“My niece or nephew’s gonna come out weighing twenty pounds, the way you’re
going,” Nick kidded with a smile.
“Now, Nick, don’t tease her,” Victoria admonished her middle son. “It’s
perfectly normal for an expectant mother to have a big appetite. Why, when I
was carrying you, I put away enough food to feed an army- I never ate so much
Chicken Creole in my life! You were quite the hungry baby,” she remarked.
“And he still is,” Jarrod chimed in- motioning to his brother’s mouth full of
eggs, causing the table to erupt in laughter once again.
Later that morning, Nick found Heath in the barn. “Been looking for you,
brother,” he said. “This just came- it’s got your name on it,” he added,
holding out an envelope.
Heath took off his gloves, his brow creasing. “Who’d send me a telegram?” he
wondered aloud.
“Only one way to find out,” Nick remarked.
His brother opened the envelope and read the contents, his face breaking into a
smile. “Well, whaddaya know,” he said. “Otis Folsom’s ready to sell us that
stallion!”
Nick looked at the missive over his brother’s shoulder. “That’s wonderful, just
wonderful,” he said happily. “That’s some of the finest breeding stock I’ve
seen in ages.” He looked at his brother. “You know, Heath,” he remarked. “Could
be that our bid wasn’t the highest- I think Old Otis just wanted to do
something nice for a good buddy- or maybe get a chance for a game of poker with
his favorite opponent.”
Heath raised an eyebrow. “Could be,” he agreed. Otis Folsom was one of the most
successful horse breeders in Northern California, a position that belied his
humble beginnings. He’d grown up poor as a church mouse, and his father had run
out on the family when he was a boy. Otis had fought tooth and nail to become
the wealthy man he was now. He and Heath had clicked from their first meeting,
their similar pasts providing them with common ground, and Otis had grown quite
fond of the younger man over the past few years. “But whatever the reason, I’m
glad we’re gettin’ that horse. And seein’ as how he made a point of puttin’ my
name on the wire, I guess I’ve gotta be the one to go Brewster City and pick it
up,” he said, turning quiet.
“Heath,” Nick started, “I’ll go if you don’t want to leave Amy, I-“
But his brother shook his head. “Thanks, Nick, but you’ve done that too many
times for me the past few months. I’ll take this one.” He thought for a minute.
“I could leave right after lunch, get there before dark- be back early tomorrow
afternoon.”
Nick nodded. “Good idea. I’ll wait on branding those Herefords ‘til you get
back,” he said, clapping his brother on the shoulder.
After lunch was over and good-byes had been said to the family, Heath got up
and took Amy’s hand. “Walk me out,” he said. On their way to the door he picked
up the bedroll he’d prepared earlier and put on his coat. Before he could
fasten it, Amy reached around his waist, under his coat, and hugged him
tightly.
Heath put his arms around her. “I’ll be back before you know it, darlin’,” he
said softly, stroking her hair.
She looked up at him and nodded. “I know,” she said. “It had to happen sooner
or later- your being gone overnight. I’ll just miss you,” she added.
“Me too,” he answered her, holding her more tightly.
“That bed will seem so empty without you,” Amy whispered, smiling slightly.
“And I hate to think of you sleeping all alone, too.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Lucky for me, I’ll have the memory of last night
to keep me company,” he said.
“Heath!” She looked around quickly to make sure no one had heard and slapped
him lightly on the chest. “You’re terrible, you know that?”
He chuckled. “I know,” he said. “But you love me anyway, right?”
Amy looked into his eyes and nodded. “Yes, I do,” she said softly. “I love you
more than I can say.”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” he answered, looking at her tenderly before
kissing her forehead. “And remember- I don’t want you doin’ anythin’ harder
than liftin’ the fork to your mouth, understood?”
She laughed. “Understood.”
Heath opened the door and they stepped outside. “You’d better get inside, it’s
cold out here,” he said.
His wife shook her head. “As soon as you leave.”
He gave her a long, lingering kiss and then went to the barn. After mounting
up, he rode Charger past the front of the house, turning to wave at Amy. She
smiled and waved back before he turned and rode off into the distance.
A sudden gust of wind picked up, making the outdoors even chillier. Amy
shivered as she drew her shawl more closely around her, then turned around and
went back into the house.
“Jarrod!” Nick bellowed as the front door closed behind him. “Where the devil
is he…Jarrod!” he shouted again.
Amy and Victoria looked up from their seats in the parlor. “Nick, what is it?”
his mother asked as Jarrod emerged from the study and entered the room.
“Yes, I’d like to know, too,” Jarrod said. “What’s got you in such an uproar?”
Nick took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. “That was Judson Boulder at
the door just now. He’s got some of our brand-new Herefords roaming around his
property, and he thinks some of them may have even gone farther, out his
boundary line near Peck’s Creek where some of his fence is rotted through.”
Jarrod looked puzzled. “But how could those beeves have gotten out? Weren’t
they fenced in-“
“Of course they were fenced in!” Nick said angrily. “They were grazing in the
north pasture, and I checked that line fence myself just the other day. I must
have missed a spot…” He shook his head. “Point is, they’re out there,
unbranded, and I’ve gotta go try and herd ‘em in. I could use some help, big
brother.”
“Me?” Jarrod asked, amused. “You’re asking me to go round up stray cattle? How
about some of the hands- oh, it’s Saturday night,” he realized, nodding,
answering his own question.
“That’s right,” Nick said. “Not a man around, and I’d rather not go out there
on my own after a dozen head. With you there, it shouldn’t take all that long,
Jarrod.” At his brother’s hesitation, Nick’s tone turned more conciliatory.
“Aw, come on, Jarrod- those beeves cost me a pretty penny, and not being
branded and all, they’re found treasure for anyone out there. Lucky for us
Boulder’s a good neighbor, not the thieving kind.”
Jarrod sighed and nodded his head. “All right, all right, I’ll go with you.
It’s almost dark, though- and I’m a little out of practice at this sort of
thing, you know.”
Nick smiled. “Aw, you and your lily-white hands’ll do just fine, believe me.
And we’ve got a good hour of light left- should be enough time to get most of
‘em, if not all. Come on, let’s not waste any more time talking about it.”
The two men got ready to go. As they were walking out the door, Jarrod called back,
“Mother, make sure Silas has some strong coffee waiting when we get back.” He
glanced over at Nick and grimaced slightly. “After an hour of chasing strays
with this one, I’m going to need it.” Nick grinned broadly in response.
Victoria nodded. “Coffee- and food- will be waiting,” she promised.
As the men left, Victoria looked at her daughter-in-law. “Well, I guess it’s
just the two of us for a while,” she said, smiling.
Amy nodded, strangely quiet.
Victoria looked at her sympathetically. “It’s hard being away from your husband
for the first time. Believe me, I know,” she said.
Her daughter-in-law sighed. “Oh, I don’t mean to feel sorry for myself, but…I
have to confess, I do miss him,” she admitted ruefully.
The petite matriarch nodded and put her hand over Amy’s. “I know, dear, I know.
But he’ll be back tomorrow, and you’ll appreciate each other all the more for
having been apart, even for just a short time.”
Amy reached over and gave her mother-in-law a hug. “How did you ever get to be
so wise?” she asked.
Victoria laughed. “Years of practice, dear,” she said. “Have I told you lately
how excited I am about becoming a grandmother?”
The pretty brunette nodded, smiling. “Only about twice a day,” she said
good-naturedly.
“Well, I am,” the older woman stated emphatically as they both laughed. She
suddenly clasped her hands together excitedly. “That reminds me, there’s
something I want to show you, something for the baby,” she said.
“What’s that?” Amy asked, intrigued.
“A christening gown,” Victoria answered. “Jarrod, Nick and Audra all wore it-
and I’d be so proud if my grandchild would, too,” she said hopefully.
Amy looked at her happily. “Mother, that would be wonderful,” she said. “Where
is it, I’d love to see it.”
Victoria thought for a minute. “I think it’s up in the attic- I’ll go get it,”
she said before getting up and walking to the stairs.
Amy looked around for her book to read while she waited for her mother-in-law
to return before remembering that she’d left it in the study. She went into the
room and spent a few minutes looking at the myriad of books on the shelves
before reaching for her own. The booted footsteps behind her made her smile as
she turned around. “Nick, did you forget something-”
She stopped, gasping with fright when she found herself looking into a pair of
black eyes she’d thought she’d never see again.
Their owner’s mouth was twisted into a smile. “Evenin’, ma’am.”
“Jarrod- get that one over there, he’s getting away!” Nick
called out impatiently. His brother obligingly twirled his lasso and threw it-
and missed.
“Dammit, Jarrod, you haven’t gotten one since we’ve been out here. What’d you
come along for, anyway?” Nick said angrily.
His brother looked at him in amazement. “ ‘What did I come along for’?” he
repeated. “Nick, you badgered me into this- I told you I’m out of practice! And
the light isn't’ exactly optimal, either.”
“All right, all right,” his brother said, contrite. “You’re right, I forgot
this isn’t your thing.” He expertly tossed his lasso and roped the Hereford,
bringing it into line with the others. “I figure we’ve got most of them, let’s
keep going.”
Jarrod sighed. “Nick, it’s almost dark, can’t you and some of the hands come
back in the morning?”
Nick shook his head. “By then those beeves could be halfway to Frisco. Come on,
Jarrod, just a little longer, then we’ll head back.”
Another sigh escaped Jarrod. “All right, but if we haven’t found any more by
then-“
His brother held up a placating hand. “Then I’ll try again in the morning, I
promise.” The two men rode off, continuing their search.
Amy looked at the man in front of her, too scared to even move. “Betcha didn’t
think you’d ever see me again, huh?” Luke Haggerty said, leering at her.
She shook her head. “What are you doing here?” she asked quietly.
“Unfinished business, ma’am,” he answered. He gestured with his revolver to the
door. “If you’d be so kind as to go into the parlor,” he said with exaggerated
politeness. When Amy remained where she was, his voice turned cold. “Now,” he
ordered. She obligingly walked past him into the parlor, where she was
horrified to see his brother Wade, standing at the drinks table. He put down
the bottle he was drinking from. “Ma’am,” he greeted her with a smile.
“Amy, it’s too dark up there, I’ll have to get a candle-” Victoria stopped mid-sentence
from where she stood near the top of the staircase and looked at the intruders.
“Ma’am,” Luke said as he looked up at her, tipping his hat. “I’d appreciate you
joinin’ us down here, if’n you don’t mind.”
Any thought Victoria had of running back upstairs was dashed when she realized
that her daughter-in-law was alone with the two men. She slowly descended the
staircase. “Would you mind telling me what you’re doing in my home, Luke?” she
asked coldly.
“Not ‘tall, ma’am,” Luke answered, smiling. “Just as soon as I help myself to
some of your fancy liquor. Wade- gimme that bottle.”
“Silas!” Victoria suddenly remembered. “Where’s Silas?” At Luke’s grin, a look
of fear passed over her face. “No, you didn’t-“
“Don’t you worry none about your fancy butler, ma’am- he’ll be fine. Might have
himself a little headache when he wakes up, but he’ll be none the worse.” He
and Wade shared a laugh. “You didn’t think we killed him, ma’am? Naw, we ain’t
that type- we don’t go around killin’ for the fun of it. Not like that bastard
you call your son.” Victoria started to retort, but he interrupted her. “The
two a yas- whyncha go set yourselves down right there so’s I can keep an eye on
yas,” he said, pointing to the settee. The two women looked at each other
before silently complying.
“There now, that’s better,” Luke said, putting a foot up on a chair. He looked
at Amy. “Where’s your husband, ma’am?”
She wasn’t sure exactly how much to reveal. “He’s…he’s not here,” she said.
Luke shook his head. “Wrong answer, ma’am,” he said, sighing. “So I’ll ask ya
again- where is he?”
Amy answered him more firmly this time. “I told you he’s not here, and that’s
the truth- go look in the barn, you’ll see that his horse is gone.”
The oldest Haggerty scratched his head with his revolver. “That a fact,” he
said, thinking.
“It is,” Victoria answered. “And my two other sons will be back any moment, so
I suggest you leave as quickly as possible,” she added tightly.
Wade let out a short laugh. “That ain’t true, they ain’t comin’ right back-
right, Luke?” he asked.
His brother shook his head. “’Fraid not, ladies.” He took a pair of
wire-cutters out of his pocket as the two women looked on in horror. “Chasing
down them cattle’ll take a while.”
“You cut the line fence,” Amy whispered in shock.
Luke took another swig from the bottle before smiling at her. “That’s right,
ma’am,” he said. “Knew none a the hands’d be around this being Saturday night-
figured we’d ambush your man when he went out looking for them beeves- we hid
and waited, and whaddaya know, only the two of 'em come ridin' out. We figured
on them bein’ there, but seein’ as how we’d have the upper hand, surprisin’
them and all, it’d be easy to take ‘em all out if need be.” He got up and
walked over to the drinks table, examining the selection more closely.
Amy looked around the room, her eyes desperately seeking something she could
use as a weapon. The only thing nearby was a table lamp- but could she get to
it and hit Luke over the head with it before he stopped her? For she knew it
would have to be Luke- he was much more dangerous than his brother, much more
menacing. Wade was obviously little more than his brother’s lackey. She
realized with dismay that it wouldn’t work- she’d never manage to get up, get
to the lamp, and hit him before he or his brother would stop- and probably
harm- her. And even if by some miracle she could…what if she didn’t hit him
hard enough to knock him unconscious? She might only hurt him, and this would
anger him even more.
For the first time, she wished she had let Heath teach her how to use a gun.
He’d tried to, several times, telling her that it was important that in this
part of the country she know how to protect herself. She’d always begged off,
telling him to wait for another time. She hated guns; her father had been
murdered with one and she was loath to even touch the things. But now she was
bitterly regretting her procrastination. Anyway, even if she knew how to use a
gun, she didn’t see how she’d be able to make it all the way to the gun
cabinet. But maybe her mother-in-law would be able to, and she did
know how to use one.
Amy looked at Victoria. The older woman put her hand over her daughter-in-law’s
and squeezed it tightly. When Amy saw that the brothers’ attention was on the
liquor, she murmured quietly, “Gun cabinet.” Victoria sighed and nodded,
thinking the same thing, realizing that it would be almost impossible for
either of them to reach it. And even if one of them did, the other would be at
the brothers’ mercy. The only thought that comforted her right now was that
Audra was staying over after the party and wouldn’t be back until morning. She
only hoped this whole sorry mess would be over long before that.
Luke walked over and sat down in a chair. “But the only one we really want is
that mongrel husband a yours, ma’am, so suppose you tell me when he’s comin’
back.”
Amy wasn’t sure how much she should give away. If she told Haggerty that Heath
wouldn’t be back til morning, there was a chance he and his brother might
simply leave- but then again, they might not. They might take out their revenge
on her or Victoria instead. Perhaps it would be better to let him think that
Heath would be back soon. True, they wouldn’t leave, would instead stay and
wait for him- but Nick and Jarrod wouldn’t stay out past dark, which wasn’t far
off- maybe if she could keep the man calm and talking until her brothers-in-law
returned, they’d take care of these awful men.
So instead of answering his question, she stalled. “Why, what do you want with
him?” she asked coldly, even though she already knew the answer.
“To kill ‘im, of course,” Haggerty said, as if it was the most natural thing in
the world. “He done killed my brother, and now it’s up to me and Wade here to
get our revenge, in his name.”
“But your brother shot at him first,” Victoria stated firmly. “And it was your
own actions that led to him doing that. If you three hadn’t started drinking in
the bunkhouse, you never would have been fired-“
Luke’s laughter interrupted her. “That’s what they told ya? That we got the
sack for drinkin’ in the bunkhouse?” He and his brother laughed louder, causing
a cold chill to go down Amy’s spine. She had the most horrible feeling she knew
what he was about to say.
“No ma’am, we was let go cause someone done heard us…admirin’
this little lady here,” he said, gesturing toward Amy’s suddenly white face.
“Now don’t ya go thinkin’ for one minute that we weren’t bein’
right…compli…compli-mentry of all your fine features, ma’am,” he added with a
leer.
And finally, there it was, Amy thought. For somehow she’d always known, deep
down, that their dismissal had had something to do with her, no matter what
story Heath had told her. She couldn’t be mad at him for lying to her- he must
have known how much it would upset her and had just wanted to spare her that.
In fact, she would have been happy to go on not being sure, and that’s how it
would have been, if the Haggertys hadn’t come here tonight. She was all the more
frightened now, but tried to make herself relax and not show fear.
Victoria was stunned, this was the first she’d heard of it. “Then your
dismissal was more than justified,” she said disgustedly, wishing her sons had
warned her, though immediately understanding that they hadn’t wanted to worry
her. “And your brother had no right to take a shot at my son- and you don’t
have that right, either, to just shoot him in cold blood with no
justification.”
Luke didn’t answer her right away. He made a show of looking around the room.
“You know, ma’am,” he addressed Victoria, “you sure got a mighty fancy house
here. Why, you know, this here’s the first time we ever been inside, ain’t that
right, Wade?” Wade finished the last drop from the bottle of port he was holding
and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before nodding in agreement.
“Yep, a real fine house, fine things,” he said thoughtfully. “Now, me and Wade
here- and our little brother Denny, who that bastard done murdered- we come
from nothin’. But we had ourselves a Ma- a good woman, she was. And she taught
us the Good Book- and I remember, plain as day, them words “An eye for an eye,
a tooth for a tooth.” He nodded. “So ya see, ma’am, I got all the right in the
world…all the…what was that fancy word ya used- justification- to avenge my
brother’s death. The Good Book done says so.”
Victoria shook her head in exasperation. “But that passage isn’t meant to be
taken literally, not in this day and age,” she stated firmly. She continued in
a quieter tone, trying to make Luke see reason. “Luke, it sounds like your
mother was a very good woman. Do you really think she’d want you to go after
Heath this way, gun him down in cold blood? I can’t believe that,” she said.
“And how will your becoming a killer do any honor to Denny’s memory?” She shook
her head again. “No, Luke, the best way to honor both of those people who you
loved so much would be to forget this whole thing, to go on with your lives and
try to live decently.”
Luke laughed bitterly. “Live decent? And how is we supposed to do that, ma’am,
when none’ll hire us? We done spent this past month goin’ up and down the
coast, lookin’ for work. Word’s out- the Barkleys done fired us, so no one’ll
touch us now.” His smile was wry. “Course, it weren’t a total waste of time- a
month away was enough time for you folks to forget about the Haggertys, not be
on your guard worried that we might up and come back to kill your husband’s
bastard.”
Both Amy and Victoria realized, to their dismay, that the man was right. After
Heath had been forced to shoot Denny, everyone on the ranch had been on their
guard against the very real possibility that the remaining Haggerty brothers
might come back and cause trouble. But as the weeks, and then a full month, had
gone by, their precautions had dropped by the wayside, something that had
obviously been a mistake.
Victoria tried another tactic. “If our family has caused any problem with your
getting work, then I’ll be happy to compensate you. I can give you enough cash
to get a fresh start- provided that you leave immediately.”
Luke smiled at her, nodding slowly. “Well, ma’am, that’s kindly of you, right
kindly. And I may just take you up on that offer- right after we done what we
come to do.” He glanced at the clock. “We done wasted enough time talkin’. Now
I’m gonna ask ya again, little lady,” he said, looking straight at Amy. “When’s
your man comin’ back?”
“I’m really not sure,” she answered slowly. “It could be ten minutes, it could
be an hour.”
But Luke Haggerty was smart, cunning. He’d had to be in order to keep himself
and his mother alive in the face of his abusive father. He knew people, could
read them – and right now Amy’s face might as well have been an open book. He
smiled evilly. “He ain’t comin’ back tonight, is he?” When she didn’t answer,
he laughed. “Well, don’t that beat all. After all my plannin’, he ain’t even
here.” He finished the bottle he’d been drinking from and threw it into the
fireplace, its loud shatter making both women jump.
“I’ll ask you again to leave,” Victoria warned. “Leave now before my sons come
back and we’ll forget this ever happened. There’ll be no need to even call in
the sheriff-“
“Aw, lady, you must think I’m plumb stupid if ya think I’d fall for that,” Luke
sneered at her before breaking open a bottle of the Barkley’s best whiskey.
“No,” Victoria said, shaking her head. “No, Luke, I don’t think you’re at all
stupid. And I know you’re too smart to think you can possibly get away with
this- or with harming two innocent women.”
“Now who said anything about harmin’ any defenseless females?” Luke asked. He
looked at his brother. “Well, Wade, looks like we done wasted our time, comin’
here.” He gulped down half the whiskey before turning back to the women. “All
right, we’ll be on our way. Wouldn’t do to have your boys gun us down before we
get the chance to kill the one we come to kill. But we’ll get him another time-
we’re real patient.”
Amy and Victoria were each starting to feel a bit of relief when Haggerty spoke
again. “But I reckon we got some time til it’s dark, and they ain’t gonna be
back afore then. I’m hungry- you hungry, Wade?”
“I could eat, Luke,” his brother answered.
Luke nodded. “All right, then. I reckon we got just enough time for some a your
fancy victuals. Go in the kitchen and fix us a bite.”
Wade looked worried. “But Luke, maybe we oughtta just leave now-“
“I said somethin’, Wade! I give the orders around here, and doncha forget it!”
he said angrily. Looking at the women, he said, “Now.”
Amy and Victoria both started to get up when Luke shook his head. “Uh uh, just
you, ma’am,” he said to Victoria. “Gotta keep yas sep’rat, wouldn’t want yas
tryin’ nothin’.”
Victoria’s voice was cold. “If you think I’m going to leave you here with my
daughter-in-law –“
“Now, ma’am,” Haggerty said, deceptively gently, “Either you get in that
kitchen pronto, or I’m gonna feel the need to give that butler a yours another
whack with my piece here to make sure he’s still out. And sometimes I don’t
know my own strength- I might just kill ‘im- by accident, a course,” he said
with a slight grin.
“Mother,” Amy spoke softly. “Go ahead, I’ll be all right. The sooner you come
back, the sooner these men will leave. Isn’t that right, Mr. Haggerty?” she
asked him, trying to sound calm.
Luke nodded, smiling. “Word of honor, ma’am.”
Victoria realized that she had no choice. She took one last look at Amy, who
nodded at her reassuringly, before making her way into the kitchen, Wade’s gun
pointed at her back. She was shocked to find Silas lying on the floor, but was
relieved to see that he was coming to. “Silas, are you all right?” she asked,
bending over him. The servant nodded, grimacing as he put a hand to the back of
his head. Victoria helped him to a sitting position. With an angry look at
Wade, she quickly started taking food out of the cupboard while their captor
held his gun trained on both of them.
“Nick, that’s it- I’ve had enough,” Jarrod said firmly.
“But Jarrod, there’s still a little light left-“ Nick started to entreat.
But his brother stood his ground. “I mean it, Nick- I’m going back- with or
without you,” he said, turning his horse around.
“Jarrod, wait up,” Nick said, resignedly. “All right, we’ll go back. I’ll go
after the other three in the morning, just hope they won’t have gotten too
far,” he said, as the two men started herding the recovered Herefords back to
the ranch.
As they neared the portion of the fence where the cattle had broken through,
Jarrod stopped suddenly. “Wait a minute, Nick.” He turned to his brother. “We
didn’t check that fence on our way out.”
The lanky rancher shook his head. “Nope, I was in a hurry to start looking for
these guys, I figured I’d take a look in the morning, when I can see better.”
“Maybe we should check it now,” Jarrod said thoughtfully. He bent forward, but
there wasn’t enough light left to see well. “Got a match?”
“Yeah,” Nick said, his brow furrowing with realization as he reached into his
pocket. “Jarrod, you don’t think-“
“I think we should find out,” his brother answered. Nick lit the match against
a fence post and they examined the wire closely.
Nick swore under his breath. “Well I’ll be…” He looked at his brother, both of
them thinking the same thing. “We’d better get the hell back to the house.”
Jarrod nodded, worried. “Lets go.” The two men rode like the wind, the cattle
forgotten.
Luke holstered his gun and sat on the settee next to Amy, noticing how she
nervously moved farther to her side. “Aw, ma’am, I ain’t gonna hurt ya,” he
said. “We’ll be outta here soon enough, and I’d like to get me one last look at
a fine, high-class woman like yaself.” He looked her up and down lasciviously,
his gaze unnerving her. Luke finished the bottle of whiskey in his hand and let
it fall the floor. Amy realized with dismay that the man had had too much to
drink, making him all the more dangerous.
Her eyes fell on the bottle lying near her feet. If she could just get to it,
pick it up, she’d have no compunction at all about smashing it over his head-
this filth who wanted to kill her husband and who was looking more threatening
by the moment. But as if he could read her mind, Luke smiled evilly and kicked
it out of her reach.
“Wouldn’t want ya to be tempted to knock me out, ma’am,” he said. Suddenly his
gaze softened. “Ya’ll sure do smell nice,” he remarked. “And I can’t rightly
remember seein’ such pretty hair on a gal.” He reached out a hand and touched
her curls before Amy jerked her head away, looking at him angrily. She tried to
get up but his hand on her shoulder pushed her back down. “Come on, lady, you
wanna stay on my good side.”
The leer on his face frightened her. “No reason why this trip should be a total
loss,” he muttered. To Amy’s horror, he ran his fingers through her hair again;
a wave of nausea washed over her as he moved closer to her and buried his face
in her neck.
Making a sound of disgust, Amy managed to push him away with both hands and got
up. She tried to get away, but Luke leapt to his feet and caught her arm.
“Guess ya think yer too good fer the likes a me, huh?” he asked, looking
slightly angry. “That’s just somethin’ I don’t ken, lady, seein’ as how you
married a product of sin.” He pulled her against him and pressed his lips
against hers. Repulsed, Amy twisted her head away, but that was all she could
do as his hand still had a death grip on her arm. She wanted to scream, but
managed to stay silent, afraid of scaring Victoria.
“You dare touch me again and my husband will hunt you down…he’ll never let you
get away with this,” she said, trying not to show fear though inside she was
scared to death.
Luke laughed bitterly. “I’m countin’ on it, lady,” he answered, still holding
her arm. “Let Ol’ Heath come lookin’ for me- then no one’ll say it wasn’t no
fair fight when I kill ‘im.” He suddenly had a thought. “Ya know, you can make
thing’s a whole lot better for that bastard husband a yours- I’m feelin’ real
gen’rous today…so I’m willin’ to forget about killin’ him if’n ya don’t fight
me- not too hard anyway,” he laughed as he pulled her close again and ran his
hands over her body.
“No!” she whispered, trying to squirm away. She could smell the liquor on his
breath as his lips once again pressed against hers. “Please, no,” she begged.
He looked at her and smiled maliciously, enjoying the fact that Heath’s wife
was begging him. He’d never felt so powerful. The high it gave him sent a burst
of adrenalin through his veins as he suddenly put his hand to the neck of her
dress and pulled, ripping it down the front, leaving only her camisole to cover
her.
Terrified, choking on her tears, Amy tried to think of a way to stop him. The
thought of what he wanted to do to her was too much to bear. She was loathe to
tell him something so personal, but quickly realized that she had no choice.
“Please,” she begged again, trying to push him away. “Please, don’t…I’m with
child,” she said desperately, trying to reach some human, compassionate corner
of his sick, drunken mind.
But to her horror, the grin on his face grew broader. “Well, whaddaya know?” he
marveled. “I wouldn’ta thought that mongrel husband a yours woulda had the
stuff.” The idea of having his way with Heath’s pregnant wife, ruining her for
the bastard before he killed him, was too delicious to ignore, and it pushed
every ounce of reason out of his head. All the liquor he’d just downed didn’t
help matters any.
“Well, I’ll tell ya what, ma’am,” he said, holding her tightly against him as
she unsuccessfully tried to free herself, “I’ll be extra gentle with ya- and we
can go in there and lock the door so’s no one bothers us,” he added, gesturing
toward the study as his fingers dug into her hair once more.
Amy was unable to stay silent any longer. “No!” she screamed desperately,
struggling against him. Luke started toward the study, half dragging his
unwilling victim. “No, stop!”
Victoria heard her daughter-in-law scream and threw down the plate she was
holding, moving towards the kitchen door. “I wouldn’t, ma’am,” Wade warned,
taking aim at her with his gun.
She looked at him disgustedly. “Go ahead, then, shoot me in the back,” she
said, running out the door with him behind her.
“Make it easier on yaself, lady,” Luke was muttering to Amy, almost managing to
pull her into the study.
She couldn’t let him do this to her. Screaming again, she clawed at his face,
her nails digging into his skin. Luke inhaled sharply with pain, not even
noticing Wade’s and Victoria’s arrival. He put a hand to his face and touched
the three red lines there, then examined the blood left on his fingers by the
wounds.
Luke looked at the petrified girl, his black eyes blazing with anger and
malice. “Bitch!” he hissed, and she let out a final terrified scream as his
hand raised high in the air before he backhanded her cheek with all the force
he possessed. The blow propelled her towards the stairs where she slammed
against the banister before falling down, the back of her head hitting the
floor with a sickening thud.
“Amy!” Victoria cried, running over to her. She lay unmoving on the floor, her
eyes closed.
Wade looked nervously at his brother. “Luke!” They hadn’t
planned on this- at least, Luke hadn’t said anything to him.
Luke stood there, looking at the girl on the floor with the weeping older woman
bent over her, gently rubbing her cheek. He ran a hand over his mouth, the
enormity of what he’d done sinking in, sobering him up as no amount of sleep
ever could. He hadn’t planned on trying to have his way with the girl- hell, he
thought they’d kill the bastard out by where they’d cut the fence and never get
near the house. But he just hadn’t been able to resist Heath’s woman, and now
he cursed his stupidity.
Dying in a gunfight with Heath Barkley was a possibility that he’d entertained
and had decided that he was willing to chance in the pursuit of revenge for his
brother’s death. But this…he looked again at the motionless girl and swallowed
hard. If he’d killed a Barkley woman, and her being with child yet…he knew that
his last moments on earth would be spent hanging from the end of a rope. Even
if she didn’t die…he didn’t want to think of the consequences.
“C’mon, Wade, lets get the hell out of here,” he muttered, anxious to leave.
The door suddenly burst open. Nick and Jarrod ran inside, stopping as their
eyes quickly surveyed the situation.
Luke panicked, thinking again of the rope that surely awaited him. He dove into
the doorway of the study, reaching out a hand to pull his brother in, but
didn’t quite manage. Wade, terrified, struggled to aim his gun at the Barkleys
and was hit by Nick’s bullet before even getting off a shot. Luke watched as he
fell to the floor.
Jarrod turned to his mother. “Mother, she’s not…”
Victoria shook her head, the tears running down her cheeks. “No, she’s alive,
but-“
The two Barkley men looked at each other. They both had the same thought: one
of them had to go for the doctor, but not before Luke was taken care of. Time
was of the essence. “Haggerty, get out here! First I wanna see you throw your
gun on the floor!” Nick yelled. When there was no answer, he continued. “I’m
losing patience. You don’t have a chance and you know it! I’m giving you all of
five seconds to get out here before the two of us come in there!”
Luke slowly came out into the entrance hall, his hands raised in the air. He
smiled nervously at the two gun barrels pointed at him.
“I know when to give up,” he said amicably. “I’m gonna throw my piece down,
nice and easy-like,” and started to lower his arm. He suddenly raised it and
aimed his revolver at the two men. But only one shot was heard- that of
Jarrod’s gun. Luke’s face was an agonized visage as he landed next to his
brother.
Knowing that he was the faster rider, Nick was already running out the door.
“Going for the doc,” he called over his shoulder.
Jarrod stood looking at his sister-in-law lying on the floor, her unmoving form
all too familiar, all too similar to the way his own wife had looked on that
terrible day almost two years ago. His heartbeat quickened, and he quickly
shook his head, forcing himself to push the horribly parallel memory to the
side. He couldn’t let himself get lost in the past, not when Amy’s life was at
stake, here and now. He moved to the entry hall table and removed the cloth
from it, modestly covering Amy where her dress was torn down the front.
A sudden movement from the floor caught Victoria’s eye. “Jarrod!” she shouted.
Jarrod quickly turned and saw the gun in Luke’s shaky hand, pointed in his
direction. Grimacing, Haggerty was just about to pull the trigger when Jarrod’s
revolver stopped him- this time for good. He got up and examined the two men to
be sure. “They’re both dead,” he muttered, returning to his mother and kneeling
down next to Amy’s still inert form.
Silas came out of the kitchen, his steps still wobbly. He took one look at Amy
and gasped, putting a hand to his mouth.
“Silas,” Victoria said. “Nick’s gone for the doctor- why don’t you get things
ready.” The faithful servant silently nodded and went to start collecting items
that the doctor would need, his own pain forgotten.
Victoria put a hand on her son’s arm. “Jarrod, lets get her upstairs,” she
said, her voice urgent.
He nodded, gently lifting Amy into his arms and making for the staircase. She
suddenly moved her head and opened her eyes slightly, squinting with pain.
“Ja…Ja’d…” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
Jarrod put a smile on his face. “You just relax, honey,” he said soothingly,
his calm exterior belying how anxious he really was. “Everything’s going to be
all right, I promise.” But her eyes were already closed again. He slowly made
his way up the stairs holding Amy’s limp form, his mother right behind them.
Just another mile or so and he’d be home. Heath was glad to
see his journey come to an end, though the trip to Otis Folsom’s horse farm had
been a good one. He and Otis had spent an enjoyable evening drinking and
playing poker while catching up as well as reminiscing. He turned his head and
looked admiringly at the black stallion whose lead he was holding. Otis had
surprised him by announcing that he wouldn’t accept a dime for the horse; that
Heath should consider it a belated wedding gift. Heath had protested, knowing
how much money the older man could have gotten for the animal, but Otis had
stood firm.
It had been a profitable trip, but Heath missed his wife. Otis’s guest room had
sported a large, comfortable bed, but Heath was glad that tonight he’d be back
in his own bed with Amy. He hadn’t liked going to sleep alone and waking up
alone, and was relieved that it had only been the one night. This was the
longest they’d spent apart since they’d been married, and he was anxious to
hold her in his arms and hear about what she’d been up to while he’d been gone.
He knew as well that she’d be interested in hearing all about his trip. Heath
thought he might just take the rest of the day off and spend it with his wife
after getting some lunch. The thought of it made him smile.
He wondered if the baby would have started moving by the time he got back. He
knew he was being silly; he’d only been gone a day and it was unlikely that
such a big change would have happened, but he couldn’t help himself. He was
eager to put his hands on his wife’s middle and feel their child moving and kicking.
He didn’t know much about women being in the family way, but he figured it was
still too soon for that. Still, that day couldn’t be too far off, and he
couldn’t wait.
It sometimes still boggled his mind that he’d found his soulmate, his other
half, in that smart, beautiful young woman who suited him like a glove. And
that they’d have a child, a product of their love, in just five months…he
couldn’t believe his good fortune after a life so full of hardship and misery.
Only one cloud marred the horizon: his Ma wouldn’t see this baby. Not her, nor
Aunt Rachel. But he vowed to move heaven and earth to make sure that Hannah
would finally come to the Valley and see his firstborn. She, the sole remaining
female of the triumvirate who’d raised him, who’d taught him to stand tall and
be proud no matter what cruelties life threw at him.
He’d tried repeatedly to get her to come for a visit, but she’d always refused,
saying it wasn’t her place. He’d finally been successful before his wedding,
had finally convinced her to come, but at the last moment she’d taken ill and
hadn’t been able to make the journey. But he was determined that she would come
after the baby arrived. All the money he’d sent her in the past had been given
to charity, to his chagrin. This time he’d send her a train ticket, and woe be
unto her if she tried to refuse him. He’d make the trip to Strawberry and bring
her back himself, if need be.
The sight of the Barkley brand on the sign in the distance made him all the
more anxious to get home, and he urged Charger to move faster, holding more
firmly to the lead of the stallion next to him.
The sound of horses’ hooves made Nick and Jarrod look up from where they sat in
the parlor. Nick went to the window and glanced outside before nodding at his
older brother. Jarrod looked down at Audra next to him on the settee, his arm
wrapped tightly around her as she wept bitterly into his chest. “Go upstairs,
honey,” he said gently. She nodded silently and complied. As if by some
unspoken agreement, the two men walked to the front door and went outside,
waiting. There was no way they could let their youngest brother go into the
house unprepared, unwarned.
Heath saw one of the hands near the corral and waved him down. “Parley!” he
called. He dismounted and handed the stallion’s lead to the man. “Take care of
the both of ‘em , all right?” he asked. So eager was he to get in the house
that he didn’t notice Parley’s silence, his downcast eyes.
Parley nodded and started leading the two horses away, stopping for a moment to
watch as his boss walked to the big house. All the hands had been given strict
instructions: not a word to Heath about what had happened. He sighed before
turning and moving the animals toward the barn.
“Hey, what’s this, the welcomin’ committee?” Heath asked upon seeing his
brothers on the porch.
“Heath…” Nick started.
“Whatever it is, it’ll have to wait, brother. Wanna say hello to my wife,” he
answered, heading for the front door. Jarrod’s hand on his shoulder stopped
him. “Just a minute, Heath,” he said firmly.
Their younger brother looked at them, at their solemn faces. “What is it?” he
asked, worry starting to prick at him.
Nick took a deep breath. “Heath…there was some trouble while you were gone,” he
said, wishing he didn’t have to tell him.
And in an instant, Heath knew. “The Haggertys,” he said in a low voice.
Nick looked at Jarrod. The lawyer nodded. “They cut the line fence last night
when all of the hands were in town…some of the cattle got out and when Nick and
I went out to chase them down…” He paused. “The two of them came into the
house…”
“Amy,” Heath said suddenly, sounding anxious. “Where is she? And what about
Mother?”
The two brothers looked at each other again, only heightening Heath’s worry. He
started again for the front door but Nick stood in his way. “Heath, you’ve
gotta listen to us before you go in there, please.”
Heath’s steely gaze fixed on his brother, his anxiety growing by the second.
His voice was an icy hiss as he spat out the next words. “All right, you’ve got
one minute to tell me what happened before I go inside- even if I have to tear
you in half to do it.”
Nick hurried, knowing that his brother meant it. “Look, Heath…Mother’s fine,
nothing happened to her, but it seems that Luke was…” it was excruciatingly
hard for him to say, so he spat the words out as fast as he could, “was trying
to have his way with Amy…but he didn’t, Heath, he didn’t,” he was quick to
reassure his brother when he saw the look of anguish mixed with cold fury on
his face. “She fought back, Heath, and he…he slapped her…she fell and hit her
head, lost consciousness…” He put his hand on his brother’s arm. “Heath, she’ll
be all right, the doc’s still up there with her, she-“
But his brother had already shaken off his arm and was storming into the house.
“Heath, wait!” Jarrod called as he and Nick ran after him.
Heath didn’t even hear him as he saw Dr. Merar descending the staircase. He ran
up and met him halfway. “Doc,” he said anxiously. “My wife- is she all right?”
The kindly physician nodded. He’d been up all night and was absolutely
exhausted. “She should be fine, Heath. I was worried about the blow to the back
of her head, but there doesn’t seem to be a concussion…”
As his voice trailed off, Heath knew. He supposed he’d known, deep down, since
he’d seen his brothers’ faces outside, but he had to ask anyway. Maybe, just
maybe….”Doc,” he said tentatively, “what about the baby?” His hand clutched
tightly at the banister, his knuckles white.
But Dr. Merar was shaking his head. “I’m sorry, son. Not this time.” Heath took
a step backward, almost as though he’d been struck, and barely noticed Nick’s
strong hand on his arm, holding him up. “From what your mother told me…it was
all too much, Heath.” Amy had miscarried soon after he’d arrived last night.
But it hadn’t gone smoothly; her body hadn’t completely rid itself of what
should have been kept inside for another five months. “Heath…there were some
complications. Nature didn’t finish the job, and I had to make sure of it myself
so as to prevent infection.” He spared the frightened young man the details of
just exactly how he’d done that; the evil-looking tool already packed away once
again in his medical bag. “Thing is, this kind of procedure lends itself to
infection as well…so we’ll have to watch her very carefully over the next few
hours, make sure she doesn’t start a fever.”
Seeing Heath’s pale, shocked face, the doctor put a hand on his shoulder. “Now
you listen to me…Amy’s young and she’s strong. I don’t see any reason why she
shouldn’t make a full recovery…and there doesn’t seem to be any permanent
damage. You can have as many babies as you want, once she’s well enough.”
Heath nodded absently, the agony racing through him. It was all so unreal, like
some horrible dream that he couldn’t wake up from. “Can I see her?” he asked
quietly, his voice hoarse.
Dr. Merar nodded. “Go on up, your mother and sister are sitting with her while
I take a break. She’s still sleeping from the laudanum, so she won’t know
you’re there,” he said, turning his head to look up at the man who was already
at the top of the stairs.
“Doesn’t matter,” Heath muttered as he reached the bedroom door.
The doctor sighed and made his way down the remainder of the stairs. “Jarrod, I
could use some coffee,” he said to the dark-haired lawyer.
Jarrod nodded. “I think we all could, Howard.” None of them had gotten much
sleep the night before. They started for the kitchen. “You coming, Nick?”
Nick stood there, remembering something. “In a little while, there’s something
I’ve gotta do first,” he said, on his way out the front door.
Nick walked purposefully toward the barn, anxious to get the task over with. He
entered the dark building and went into a corner containing implements used
only in warm weather, a corner Heath would never have gone to this time of
year. Lifting up a tarp, he found what he was looking for and held the object
in his hands, the mere sight of it bringing an ache to his heart.
He’d been working on the cradle for weeks, during stolen moments when Heath
wasn’t around- usually at night by the light of a lantern. He’d known there was
plenty of time until the baby, but he’d been so excited about becoming an uncle
for the first time, he hadn’t been able to wait to start work on this very special
gift. He’d chosen the wood himself, picking the finest oak he could find. He’d
outdone himself with the carving, and it was almost finished, save for some
extra embellishments he’d planned to add.
Without ceremony, he found an ax and chopped the object beyond recognition, his
anger and sadness increasing with every swing. Why hadn’t he realized that it
had been the Haggertys who’d cut that fence? He’d been so intent on recovering
the damned cattle that he hadn’t given a thought to how they’d been able to
escape in the first place. His guilt was overpowering, and he knew he’d never
forgive himself, not even if Amy recovered and-
When, he corrected
himself. Not if, but when. She’d recover, she had to. His brother couldn’t lose
his wife, not after all that he’d been through in his tormented existence. He’d
deserved more than his share of happiness, and the whole family had been
thrilled when he’d found this wonderful girl to call his own. The couple’s
enjoyment of one another, their contentment, had affected them all, had made
the house that much nicer of a place to be. And the anticipation of the baby
had filled the house with joy.
But now…Nick angrily swiped the tears from his eyes before taking one last
swing of the ax, the gift he’d worked on so lovingly now reduced to several
sticks of wood. He was comforted by the fact that at least now Heath wouldn’t
happen upon his ill-fated handiwork and have his wounds opened all over again.
Heath and Amy would have another baby someday, Nick was sure of it. And when
that happened, he’d build them a new cradle, an even better one. But this one
would be placed in the woodpile. The one it had been meant for wouldn’t be able
to use it.
Jarrod stood next to the fireplace, leaning heavily on the mantle. Of all the
injustices he’d been witness to in his years as a lawyer, he’d never seen
anything so malicious as what had been wrought on his sister-in-law. How
someone so utterly undeserving of such evil could have it forced upon her…the
thought of it made him almost physically ill.
She’d been nothing but nice to him since the day they’d met, and had in time
become a sister to him, almost as much as the one who was tied to him by blood.
Ever-concerned about his long hours spent working, always a worthy partner in
discussions on every topic under the sun…she’d been the one who’d finally
gotten through to him about letting go of the past and trying to find a future.
He’d geared himself up and had invited her friend Colleen Ferguson, the pretty
redhead they’d bumped into on the street that day, out to dinner. It had been a
pleasant enough evening, but as the hours had worn on, it had become painfully
obvious to both of them that they weren’t right for each other.
Oddly enough, the failed date had given him hope. So he’d tried and things
hadn’t worked out- the sky hadn’t fallen, nothing terrible had happened. It had
given him courage to try again someday. In fact, Colleen had mentioned that her
sister Bonnie was really more Jarrod’s type than she was. He’d thought he might
just ask for an introduction…but it wouldn’t be anytime soon, not with what the
whole family was going through right now. He prayed that Amy would recover
quickly, that they’d all be able to help her and Heath put this whole tragic
affair behind them.
He looked up to see Nick entering the parlor. The lanky rancher looked around
before asking, “Doc go back up?” At the look on his brother’s face, Nick asked,
worriedly, “What, Jarrod… Amy?”
Jarrod nodded, the heel of his hand pressed against his forehead. “She’s
burning up with fever.”
Nick closed his eyes in despair as each brother sent his own silent prayer
upward.
For the next few days, Heath hardly left his wife’s bedside.
It was only when his mother and Audra insisted that he leave the sickroom for a
few minutes to regroup his energies that he reluctantly went outside for a
smoke. For the most part, however, he insisted on sitting on a chair next to
the bed, placing endless cool compresses on Amy’s forehead, sponging her body
with cool water and rubbing alcohol, trying to bring down the fever that was
ravaging through her. Her skin was like hot, dry parchment, and he was
frightened beyond belief that it wouldn’t cool down for more than a little
while at a time, after which he’d doggedly try to lower her temperature again.
Amy hadn’t really regained consciousness save that brief moment in Jarrod’s
arms. The blow to her head had seen to that, and then the repeated doses of
laudanum after Doctor Merar’s ministrations had kept her sleeping afterwards,
free of pain. And now the fever that had taken hold of her had her alternately
sleeping fitfully or thrashing around, mumbling incoherently, not aware of her
surroundings. She did open her eyes once in a while, but Heath could tell by
the glassy stare that she wasn’t really seeing him. Still, he forced himself to
put on a pleasant countenance for her sake, keeping up a stream of chatter as
if she were conscious and listening, just in case some part of her could hear
him.
And he prayed. Not since the ride to Strawberry after he’d gotten word that his
Ma was on her deathbed had he prayed so fervently. It hadn’t helped then, and
now he sent one entreaty after another to the heavens that this time his
prayers would be answered, that his wife would recover.
Aside from the anguish over Amy’s suffering and the loss of their baby, there
was also the guilt that he hadn’t been there to protect her, the nasty bruise
on her cheek ever-invoking his shame. When he’d first seen this evidence of
Luke Haggerty’s monstrous cruelty, he’d felt a rage he’d never known he was capable
of. Every time he looked at the discoloration he almost wished that his
brothers hadn’t taken care of the Haggertys so that he himself could have the
pleasure of ridding the world of their sorry existence.
Doctor Merar was a frequent visitor to the house in those days, helpless to
advise any further action other than what they were already doing. He did
stress the importance of trying to get some liquids into the girl, and Heath
and his mother and sister took turns trying to coax broth or water past her
parched lips, even as she was unaware of their actions.
It was one night when Heath was on the porch that he heard footsteps behind
him. He turned to see Jarrod walking toward him, his hands in his pockets.
“You’ve been hitting those things pretty hard lately,” the lawyer said,
gesturing toward the cigarette between his brother’s fingers.
Heath shrugged. “You know how it is when I’m worried,” he answered quietly.
Jarrod sighed, wishing he knew what to say to make his brother feel better.
“She’s going to get well, Heath. Once this fever runs its course…”
“Course she will,” Heath answered firmly. “Cause I can’t imagine my life
without her if she doesn’t.” The look on his brother’s face immediately made
him contrite. “Jarrod, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’-“
Jarrod interrupted him with a shake of his head. “It’s all right, Heath, I’ve
finally made my peace with it, more or less. It’s the future we should be
concentrating on, not the past. You have to believe that Amy’s going to come
out of this just fine.”
The younger brother leaned heavily against a post. “You know, Jarrod…she’s
like…like the last piece to the puzzle. And I didn’t even know that piece was
missin’ til I met her.”
His brother smiled gently. “Very poetic, brother,” he said. “And very beautiful.”
A wry smile twisted Heath’s lips. “Been hangin’ around you too long- your fancy
talk’s startin’ to rub off on me.” But his attempt at humor couldn’t hide just
how frightened he was.
“Heath,” Jarrod started. “It’s like the doctor said- Amy’s young and she’s
strong. And she’s got something else going for her.” At his brother’s
questioning look, he continued. “The love you two share- it’s a powerful force.
She wants to come back to you, and it’ll make her fight that much harder.”
Heath nodded. “I hope so, Jarrod.” He looked down at the ground as he mashed
out his cigarette. “Better get back up there,” he said, heading for the door.
Jarrod stood there for another moment before going inside as well.
Finally, on the third day, Heath woke up from a fitful sleep- sitting in his
chair, his head on the bed, as was the norm these days. He looked at Amy and it
seemed that she was resting easier. A hand placed on her forehead touched skin
that was damp and cooler instead of hot and dry. He ran to the door and called
downstairs for Dr. Merar to come up.
A cursory examination proved that the fever had indeed passed and that the girl
seemed to be out of danger. “But why hasn’t she woken up, then?” Heath asked
worriedly.
The doctor put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Her body’s been through a
lot these past few days, Heath. She’s worn out, the rest is good for her. I’d
say she should wake up later today sometime.”
Heath sighed with relief. His mother put her arms around him and hugged him
tightly. “Now that you know she’ll be all right, why don’t you leave for a
while- and I mean for more than ten minutes this time,” she admonished.
But Heath shook his head. “No, I want to be here when she wakes up. If she
holds out a hand to me and I’m not there…”
“Heath,” Nick’s voice came from the doorway where he’d been standing since he’d
come upstairs with the doctor. “You heard the doc, it’ll be a while. Now are
you gonna leave this room or do I have to drag you out bodily? Shave, take a
bath. One look at you and Amy’ll close her eyes again,” he teased.
Heath almost laughed for the first time in days. Rubbing the stubble on his
face, he nodded. “All right, I reckon I should clean up some.” He turned to his
mother. “But if she wakes up-“
“I’ll get you, I promise,” Victoria said firmly. “Now scoot!”
Heath was coming out of the bathroom, fastening the last of the buttons on a
clean shirt, and was greeted by the sight of his mother helping Amy sit up in
bed, adjusting the pillows behind her. “I was just about to call you,” Victoria
said, heading him off before he could get mad.
Her son walked slowly to where his wife sat looking out the window. “Amy,” he
said softly, gently sitting next to her on the bed. She didn’t turn to him, but
kept looking out the window. “Amy, I’m so glad you’re-“
“The baby’s gone,” she interrupted flatly.
Heath was taken aback by her statement, as well as her tone, and he didn’t know
quite how to answer. At his hesitation, she spoke again, in that same wooden
voice.
“You don’t have to tell me. I know. I feel empty.” She still hadn’t turned to
look at him.
Heath turned to his mother, who was also having trouble knowing quite what to
say. He put an arm around his wife’s shoulders and was puzzled and saddened to
feel her stiffen. “Darlin’, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Amy didn’t answer. Victoria sensed that she might want to talk to Heath alone
and decided to give them some privacy. “I’ll just go get some broth,” she said,
smiling to Heath encouragingly before leaving the room.
“Amy…” Heath put his other arm around her as well and tried to hold her, again
not understanding why she cringed. What did that
bastard do to her, he couldn’t help wondering.
Seeing his wife like this made him wish yet again that he’d been granted just
five minutes alone with those pathetic creatures.
He took his arms away from her, not knowing why she didn’t want him to touch
her but deciding to lay off a bit. He struggled for something to say. “The
doc…the doc says your gonna be just fine, darlin’…you had a rough couple of
days, but the fever’s broken.” He unconsciously touched her forehead and was
again dismayed to see her move her head even farther in the other direction.
Removing his hand, he continued, desperate for her to look at him, to talk to
him. “Amy…he said once you’re feelin’ up to it, we can try for another baby- we
can have as many as we want-“
At this, she finally turned to look at him, and he almost gasped aloud at the
dead look in her eyes, the lifelessness in her pale face. “And that’s supposed
to make everything all right?” she asked, her voice hard. “Forget about this
baby, just have another one? Is that what you think?”
Heath swallowed hard, cursing himself for his insensitivity. “No, I didn’t mean
that at all…I just meant…” but she had already turned away from him, and was
once again looking out the window.
“I’d like to be alone, please,” she said quietly.
Heath nodded, bewildered at the way she was acting, then realized she couldn’t
see him and said, “All right- I’ll come back in a little while, then.” She
didn’t answer, and he got up and left.
He met his mother in the hallway carrying a tray. She put it down on nearby
table and touched his worried face. “Heath?”
He shook his head. “Mother- she’s…she told me she wanted to be alone, and she’s
actin’ so…it’s like it’s not even her, Mother…”
Victoria sighed. “Heath, she’s been through a terrible shock. Losing the baby
when she was almost four months along, and through such violence…” She shook
her head, still not believing it all. “She’s going to need time, son.”
“I know, I figured on that,” Heath answered, his brow furrowed with concern.
“But I didn’t expect her to be like this…I thought she’d cry, scream, but not…”
“She only just woke up,” his mother reminded him. “Why don’t I give her this
broth, and you go get something for yourself. You’ve barely eaten in the past
few days, son,” she said gently.
“All right,” Heath agreed. “I’ll come back up later…maybe she’ll have adjusted
a little, feel more like talkin’ to me.”
But she didn’t. For the next few days, Heath was upstairs several times a day
to check on his wife, but to his dismay, she didn’t warm up to him at all. She
answered his questions as briefly as possible and never initiated any
conversation. She could at least look at him more now, but he almost wished she
wouldn’t- seeing those eyes that had once been so warm and full of life, that
were now like hard green bottle-glass- it saddened him greatly. He kept
reminding himself that she certainly needed time to get back to her former self-
time and support. The problem was that she wouldn’t let him give her any of
that support. He was desperate to help her, would have done anything to make
things better for her- but she rebuffed his every overture. Worse, she treated
everyone else in the family the same way.
After a week had gone by, he decided that perhaps it was time to get her to
talk to him about what had happened.
He stopped in mid-morning and found her lying in bed, her eyes open. “Amy,” he
said softly, sitting down next to her, dismayed at her lack of response. “I
think it’s time we talk about…that night…and the baby.” It hurt him to say
those words, but he forced himself, for her sake.
She looked at him, her face expressionless. “Why?” she asked.
Heath struggled to find the right words. “Because I think it would help, I
think-“
“Help who?” she asked. “Me? I don’t think so,” she said, turning her eyes
toward the ceiling.
“But you’re keepin’ it all inside,” Heath insisted. “I can see the pain you’re
in- talk to me, let me help you-“
“Reliving every terrible moment would help me?” she asked, sitting up. “If
that’s what you think, you’re sadly mistaken.” And with that, she got up and
went into their bathroom, closing the door behind her.
Heath sat there, dumbfounded. In all their short married life together they’d
never had a problem communicating or sharing, and he didn’t know how to deal
with this. He figured that it still must be too soon, that he shouldn’t have
brought it up yet. There was no way he’d push her, not after what she’d been
through.
He sighed. She just needed more time, he thought. In time, she’d surely come
around.
He didn’t want to even think of the alternative.
“Heath, it’s like I told you before- there are no timetables
for this kind of thing. People recover at different rates, and we’ll just have
to wait until Amy is ready to talk about what happened,” Dr. Merar said.
Heath sat in the chair opposite the doctor’s desk, his hat clutched tightly in
his hands. “But Doc, it’s been two weeks, and she’s nowhere near to gettin’
back to her old self.” He paused. “I hate to say this, but she reminds me of
some of the men I seen after the war.” A pained look crossed his face.
Dr. Merar spoke gently. “I know, son, and I wish I had some better news for
you, but I’m afraid the medical community hasn’t any solution for these kinds
of problems. There’s no medicine I can prescribe….look, Heath- physically,
she’s fine. But you must remember the trauma she experienced that night- it
could take her a while to get over that. It would also account for her not
wanting you to touch her right now.” He sighed. “And she lost the baby at a
relatively late stage. Most women miscarry much earlier, before they’re three
months along. She was already at the end of her fourth month, and was most
probably very attached to that baby.”
Heath nodded slowly. “So was I,” he said quietly. “Doc, you’re not telling me
anything my mother hasn’t said to me over and over these past few weeks.”
“Your mother is a very wise woman,” the doctor said with a smile. “Heath,
you’ll just have to give her more time. One of these days she’s going to have
to face what happened- and when that day comes she’ll need all the love and
support you can give her.”
“She’s got that,” Heath answered determinedly. “All I can give her, and then
some.”
He had already learned not to touch her anymore, much as he wanted to comfort
her in his arms. And his further attempts at talking about what she’d been
through were rebuffed. The few times he’d gently tried again to bring up that
fateful night, or the loss of the baby, she’d given him different versions of
the same answer: “I don’t want to talk about it” or “I can’t talk about it”. He
wished she’d shout or cry- anything but that stony mask that was really
starting to worry him.
He’d gone back to work full-time by then, and did what he usually did when he
was upset- poured himself into his work, trying to concentrate on something
other than his worries. Nick told him to take it easy for a while, to take some
more time off, but he didn’t want to. It was the only way he could get through
those frightening, lonely days.
But if the days were hard, the nights were even worse.
Their bedroom, once a cozy oasis; their own private, wonderful little world,
had become the loneliest room in the house for Heath. And their bed, once the
center of that oasis, once the most welcoming, inviting place he could imagine,
had become nothing more than a sad, pathetic square where his wife’s silence
was amplified to the fullest.
She wouldn’t even change in front of him anymore- every night she’d go into the
bathroom and put on a nightgown that covered every inch of her. He’d never even
seen the things before and supposed they’d been what she’d worn before their
marriage.
He knew she wasn’t sleeping well; he knew because he wasn’t sleeping well
either. Many a time he’d wake in the middle of the night and find Amy sitting
in the window seat, staring out into the darkness, as if she was keeping watch,
making sure whatever demons threatened her stayed on the other side of the
glass. Or he’d find her huddled on her side of the bed, so close to the edge it
looked as though she might fall off.
He’d thought more than once about sleeping on the chaise lounge- or maybe in
another room altogether. Maybe it would relax her, give her some measure of
relief. But something wouldn’t let him do that- for he sensed that if he did,
there’d be no going back. He knew that that one step on his part would send
them down an even more horrible road than the one they were on now- it would
indelibly change their marriage, set a course for things to come. No, he
wouldn’t move. He just wished his presence didn’t upset her so- and he wished
he knew why it upset her.
At the beginning, he’d tried to comfort her at night. He’d go to where she sat
on the window seat and put a tentative hand on her shoulder- he should have
become accustomed by now to her cringing, her moving away from his touch, but
he knew he’d never get used to it. “Amy, come back to bed,” he said.
She shook her head. “Not yet. Soon.”
One night after they’d gotten into bed, he decided to try again. As he slowly
moved across the bed to where she lay, he could almost see her tense up, but he
kept going. “Amy,” he said softly, putting his hand on her arm.
She turned over on her side so that his hand fell away. “I’m tired, Heath,” she
said shortly.
He almost moved away, but something made him try once more. He carefully put
his hand on her shoulder. “Amy, I know you feel all alone, but you’re not. I’m
here, darlin’- let me help you through this.”
She didn’t answer, and it emboldened him to continue. He bent down and pressed
his lips into her hair. She jumped suddenly as if she’d been scalded, moving as
far away from him as she possibly could. “Heath, please…I don’t want
to…please.” She said the words with fear in her voice, and this shocked him.
“Amy…you don’t think I’d force you…” just the thought of such a thing was
repugnant to him. “I…I know you’re not ready for…for that. I just want to hold
you, to comfort you- why don’t you come here and lay in my arms, darlin’- fall
asleep that way.” He prayed that she’d answer in the affirmative, but it was
not to be.
“I’m fine, Heath…I’m going to sleep now.”
He sighed, moving back across the now huge chasm to his side of the bed.
And so the weeks went by. Heath’s one victory during that time was that he’d
finally convinced Amy to come downstairs and take her meals with the family.
He’d had to play dirty and get Nick and Jarrod to come badger her as well- but
he didn’t care, so long as she’d finally acquiesced. She hadn’t left their
bedroom for two weeks, and he knew it couldn’t be good for her to shut herself
away. He’d hoped that being with the family would lighten her mood, get her
back to her more cheerful self, but so far it wasn’t working.
Mealtimes, which had previously been so lively and full of conversation, were
now somber and awkward. Amy would sit there, picking at the food that Silas had
so painstakingly prepared in the hopes of whetting her appetite, her eyes on
her plate, looking up only if someone asked her a question. She wouldn’t join
the family in the parlor or billiards room after dinner- she’d beg off, telling
everyone she was tired and was going to bed. Heath knew that she was lying,
that she still didn’t do much sleeping during the night. He knew from his
mother and sister and from his stops in at the house that she took naps on and
off during the day. It didn’t sound right to him, her sleeping so much during
the day and then staying up most of the night, but she needed to sleep
sometime, and if she felt safer doing it under cover of daytime, when the house
had noise and action, then so be it.
When she wasn’t sleeping or confined in her room, she was in the kitchen with
Silas, sitting quietly doing whatever chore he gave her. She no longer had any
interest in cooking lessons, but seemed content to snap green beans or shell
peas. It seemed to give her some measure of comfort to be in the kitchen, and
Heath always felt relieved when he came home and found her there instead of in
their bedroom. At least it seemed a more normal daytime pastime than sleeping
or reading in their room. The two of them would sit there quietly, with the
normally taciturn butler initiating most of the conversation.
She wouldn’t see any of her friends who came to call on her. The only person
she would see was her Uncle John. They’d sit in the parlor as he desperately
tried to get her to open up to him- to no avail. He could see that his niece
seemed to be soothed by his company, and he came over as often as he could,
though it saddened him greatly to see her in this condition. It was worse than
when her father had been killed- then, she’d also been subdued, but there had
still been some life about her, an occasional smile. This…this was something
John didn’t understand, didn’t know how to deal with.
Her work with the expansion of the library came to a halt. Victoria had tried
to convince her to continue with it, but she’d told her mother-in-law that she
just didn’t have any interest in it anymore. She wouldn’t leave the house for
that or for any other reason, and this caused great concern to the whole
family. Audra kept suggesting outings in town or to the orphanage, but always
received the same negative answer. Heath practically begged her to go to town
one night for dinner, but the answer was a firm “No”.
So Heath contented himself with the fact that at least she was spending some
time each day out of their room, if not out of the house. He hoped that perhaps
now she’d start paying more attention to her appearance. Ever since she’d been
physically well enough to get out of bed and dress and bathe herself, she’d
started wearing the plainest, least feminine clothes she had. She kept herself
scrupulously clean, bathing often, but would always put her hair up into the
most unattractive knot at the back of her neck. Heath missed the days of seeing
it flow down her back in all its curly glory, but didn’t know how to broach the
subject- and knew that it wouldn’t do any good anyway. So he did what the rest
of the family did- waited patiently for her to come around.
One Sunday afternoon, about a month after Amy had lost the baby, the family was
sitting down to lunch. Gradually, with the passage of time, things had gotten
less awkward at mealtimes. Amy still didn’t speak unless spoken to, but at
least the other members of the family were feeling more able to talk amongst
themselves, even laugh, though they were all still sad that Amy wouldn’t join
in, and all desperately hoped that she’d snap out of it.
“So how much did you lose at poker last night, Nick?” Jarrod asked his brother.
Nick looked indignant. “And who says I lost?” he demanded.
Jarrod laughed. “You did, you big buffoon- the way you stomped in here in the
wee hours, mad as a wet hen. I thought you were going to wake up the whole
house.”
“All right, all right,” Nick conceded. “I lost big- that Dave Winchester’s just
too good a player for me.”
Heath snickered. “Dave’s six-year-old brother’s too good a player for you,
Nick- especially when you’ve had too many beers and you’re makin’ eyes at a
saloon girl,” he joked, as everyone but Amy laughed. Nick glanced quickly at
her and sighed inwardly. Try as he might, he hadn’t been able to make her laugh
in ages.
“That reminds me,” Audra said, “I need to go into town tomorrow and buy Dave’s
sister Claire a gift.” She didn’t see her mother’s warning glance, the slight
shake of the petite matriarch’s head.
“Why, is it her birthday?” Heath asked.
“No, no, a baby gift,” Audra went on happily. “The christening is next week
and….” Suddenly her voice trailed off and her eyes and mouth opened wide in
horror as she realized what she’d just said. “Oh, Amy,” she said miserably.
“I…I’m so sorry, I forgot…” Realizing that she was just making things worse,
her eyes started to shine with unshed tears.
“It’s all right, Audra,” Amy said quietly, looking up for the first time since
they’d sat down to eat. Her face was even more wan than its usual paleness of
late when she asked, “What did Claire have- a boy or a girl?”
Audra swallowed hard. “A girl,” she said in a very small voice.
Amy nodded slowly. “That’s wonderful, I’m very happy for them,” she said
without a trace of joy in her voice. “Please send her my best wishes when you
see her.” She suddenly got up. “If you’ll all excuse me, I’m finished eating,”
she said, leaving her nearly full plate behind as she started to walk away.
Heath got up, too. “Wait, darlin’, I’ll come with you,” he said, worried.
She shook her head on her way to the stairs. “There’s no need, I just want to
be alone,” she said, going upstairs.
Heath sank down heavily back into his chair, silently running a hand through
his hair.
“Heath, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Audra pleaded, the tears now running down her
cheeks. Her mother put a comforting hand on her arm. “It’s all right Audra, you
mustn’t blame yourself,” Victoria said.
“Mother’s right, Sis,” Heath said. “Nothin’ wrong in what you said. We’ve got
to start gettin’ back to normal around here, talkin’ normally, not walkin’ on
eggshells…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Things can’t just keep goin’ on
like this forever.”
“And they won’t, Heath,” Jarrod said comfortingly. “Just give her some time, I
know-“
“Time?” Heath repeated bitterly. “You know, if I hear that word once more, I
think I’ll lose my mind,” he said, exhaling heavily. An awkward silence ensued.
“I’m sorry, Heath,” Jarrod finally said, quietly. “It’s very easy for me to sit
here and tell you-“
“No, Jarrod, I’m the one who’s sorry,” Heath said, contrite. “I didn’t mean to
lash out at you like- I just…I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately,” he
said, leaning back in his chair.
“Don’t give it a second thought, brother- I can take it,” Jarrod said, reaching
out and squeezing his arm.
Nick’s brow furrowed with concern. “Yeah, Heath, it’s you we’re worried about-
you and Amy.”
Heath nodded. “I know, and I appreciate that…. you know, I think I’m done
eatin’, too…” he said, getting up.
“But Heath, Silas made an apple pie for dessert- won’t you have some?” his
mother asked.
He shook his head. “No, you all go ahead. I’m gonna go get some fresh air.”
He was standing on the porch a little while later when he felt a small hand on
his arm. “I thought you could use this,” Victoria said, handing him a cup of
coffee. He smiled gratefully at her took a sip. He looked up at her in
surprise. “Irish coffee?” he asked, amused.
His mother shrugged, smiling. They stood there in silence for a few minutes,
each with the same worries.
“Heath,” she started hesitantly. “I know you’re tired of hearing this, but
things will get better. It’s going to take time, son, but I know in my heart
Amy will come back to us.”
“If I just knew that for sure, Mother, I’d feel a whole lot better.” He turned
to look at her. “You know, I was just thinking about what you told Jarrod when
he lost his sight- about time being his worst enemy, how time would just ask for
more time.” He turned away again. “That’s how I’ve been feelin’ lately about
Amy.”
“Heath, look at me,” she said firmly. When he did, she continued. “I told
Jarrod that because there was a very real possibility that he’d never get his
sight back, and the sooner he learned to live without it, the better off he’d
be. His situation was totally different than Amy’s. There’s no chance she’ll
stay like this forever, and we shouldn’t get into the habit of thinking that
way. I think time is exactly what Amy needs.” She paused, thinking. “I’ll admit
I was hoping for some change by now, but none of us can say when she’ll start
getting better- we didn’t go through what she did.” She put her hand on his arm
once again, trying to give her son some measure of comfort.
Heath took a long drink of coffee. “Have you seen Amy cry since…since it
happened?” He asked suddenly.
Victoria thought for a moment. “Come to think of it, no, I haven’t.” She looked
anxiously at her son. “You don’t mean to say…Heath, you aren’t telling me she
hasn’t cried one tear in all this time?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think she has. Never around me, anyway, and I don’t
think by herself, either- her eyes haven’t been red, not once.” He paused.
“That’s not good, Mother. It can’t be.”
Victoria reluctantly agreed with him. “No son, it’s not.” She sighed, shaking
her head, not knowing what to say.
Heath looked at her. “Mother- would you mind talkin’ to her? Maybe you could
reach her somehow…I know I can’t,” he said, his voice filled with sadness.
“I’ve tried, Heath, several times- but she doesn’t seem to want to hear what I
have to say.” Seeing the pain etched on his face, she said, “But I’ll try
again, son. I’ll do whatever I can, you know that.”
Heath gave her a hug. “I’d appreciate it.”
Victoria’s knock was answered by a faint “Come in”. She found Amy sitting in
the bedroom’s window seat and pulled up a chair to sit beside her. “I thought
we could talk, dear,” she said.
Amy looked at her. “About what?”
“About what’s going on with you…” She decided not to beat around the bush and
come right out with it. “Amy, Heath is so very worried about you, do you know
that? We all are.”
Amy shrugged slightly. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry anybody.”
Victoria shook her head. “That’s not the problem, dear. The problem is that you
seem to be bottling up all of your pain inside of you and that’s just not good.
Amy….have you cried at all since…” She forced herself to say it, hoping to
provoke a reaction from the girl. “Since you lost the baby?”
Her daughter-in-law shifted uncomfortably. “I’d rather not talk about it,
Mother.”
“But you must talk about it,” Victoria insisted. “How will you ever heal unless
you deal with it, once and for all?” Upon getting no reply, she continued, more
softly. “Amy, I think of you as my own daughter- and it’s so hard for me to see
you like this. Won’t you please talk to me? If not to me, then Heath, or your
uncle…anyone, just as long as you get all that grief out in the open. Amy, it’s
important, can’t you see that?” she asked almost desperately.
Amy shook her head. “Mother, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I don’t
want to talk about it…I…I can’t,” she said quietly. “I don’t mean to be rude,
but I’d really rather be alone, please.” She turned back to the window.
Victoria sighed. Seeing that any further talk was useless, she got up. “All
right, Amy,” she said, turning to leave. She stopped at the door. “But if you
don’t care about yourself, you might think about Heath, about what he’s going
through. That was his baby, too, and I’m sure it would comfort him to have a
wife to turn to right now. The two of you should be drawing closer together,
not farther apart. Think about that, Amy,” she said gently before closing the
door behind her. She started for the stairs, sad that she wouldn’t have any
good news to report to her son.
In the bedroom, Amy drew her knees against her chest and put her arms tightly
around them.
Heath was working harder than ever these days, trying
unsuccessfully to take his mind off his troubles. Nick found him in the barn
one day, loading bales of hay into a wagon. “Need any help?” he asked.
His brother shook his head. “I got it,” he answered.
Nick sighed. “Heath, you haven’t taken a break all day. Why don’t you come
inside with me, get some coffee, this can wait-“
“No,” Heath interrupted abruptly. “I wanna finish this, then there’s those piles
of mesquite to burn.”
The lanky rancher watched his brother work, frustrated. “Aw, Heath…”
Heath turned to look at him. “I know, Nick, I know.” He closed his eyes for a
moment. Finally he opened them, forcing a half-smile to his lips. “I’m all
right - you go on, I wanna get this done. I’ll be in later, I promise,” he
said.
Nick hesitated, then nodded, feeling helpless.
After his brother left, Heath sat down heavily on one of the bales, wiping the
sweat from his brow. He couldn’t admit to Nick, could barely admit to himself,
that he had started to truly dread going to the house, going to their bedroom
and finding Amy- or that shadow that used to be Amy- either sleeping or sitting
there like some kind of statue. He had started spending more and more time
working, anything to avoid going home- and felt horribly guilty about it. Each
day that passed made him even more depressed, more devoid of hope. He’d gone to
see Doctor Merar again, but the man hadn’t been able to give him any
reassurance as to when Amy might get back to her old self.
He sighed, deciding to do something about his guilty feelings and go check on
Amy. It was with a heavy tread that he climbed the stairs to their room,
reluctantly preparing himself for his wife’s disinterested greeting or for her
sleeping form. But as he opened the door, nothing could have prepared him for
the sight that met his eyes. His mouth widened in shock.
Amy sat at the vanity table, a pair of shears in her hand, cutting off the last
of her dark curls. Her hair lay in a messy pile on the table in front of her.
She caught Heath’s eye in the mirror, then looked back at her own image without
a word to him.
“Amy!” Heath whispered loudly, his voice hoarse with emotion. “What the…..WHY?”
he almost hissed.
She didn’t seem to notice how upset he was as she calmly answered him. “It was
too hard to take care of,” she said. She ran her fingers through her newly cut
hair, which now fell to only a few inches below her chin, barely covering the
back of her neck. She hadn’t done an even job, and strands stood out at
horrible angles.
Heath was breathing hard, so angry that for the first time ever his hand itched
to slap her face. “Don’t you ever do that again,” he managed to get out from
between his clenched teeth.
She turned to look at him. “Why should it matter to you?” she asked, seeming
not to understand. “It’s my hair, I can do what I want with it.”
Suddenly Heath couldn’t get out of the room fast enough. “I’ll see you at
supper,” he managed, turning and slamming the door behind him as hard as he
could.
He ran down the stairs and almost didn’t see his sister through the red haze of
his anger. “Heath, what’s wrong? Is it Amy?” she asked, full of concern.
“Go up and see for yourself,” he said shortly on his way to the front door.
“And tell Nick I’m takin’ the rest of the day off,” he added as he left the
house.
Audra knew that something terrible must have happened if her brother was
cutting out early- she ran up the stairs and anxiously entered the room, not
bothering to knock. She couldn’t help gasping aloud at the sight of her
sister-in-law’s shorn locks. It looks horrible,
she couldn’t help thinking. She didn’t understand why Amy would have done such
a thing- she’d always had the most beautiful hair, so long and thick and curly.
It made Audra want to cry, seeing it this way.
Slowly she walked over to the vanity table. “Amy…would you like for me to even
it out a little for you?” she asked. Surely she wouldn’t leave it this way, the
pretty blonde thought.
Amy shrugged. “If you want to, I don’t care,” she answered.
Audra picked up the shears and began trying to fix the damage. She started
talking to cover her nervousness, not caring that she wouldn’t get any answers.
“I was in town today- I had lunch with Sarah Turner. She’s got a new beau,
and…”
Heath rode Charger as fast as the animal could go, pushing him as the wind
whipped past him. He didn’t even slow down until he had put a good five miles
between himself and the ranch- or, to be more precise, between himself and Amy.
All he wanted to do just then was get as far away from her as he could, even
for just a short time. Never would he have even imagined wanting such a thing
before, but his disgust over what had just happened was so great that he pushed
his heels into Charger, begging him to take him away from that horrible place.
As always, he made sure not to ride past the building site of their new house.
It hurt him too much to look at the unfinished structure that seemed to
encompass all their lost hopes and dreams. There hadn’t even been a mention of
their moving out since Amy had lost the baby, and he didn’t have the heart to
continue working on it, not until his wife was better.
Finally, he took pity on his horse, slowing down near a stream and dismounting
so the animal could drink. He sat down heavily and leaned on a large boulder,
shaking with tiredness and anger. “It’s my hair,”
she’d said. But that wasn’t the way he saw it. It would have sounded silly to
anyone else, but he thought of her hair as something that belonged to both of
them. It seemed like he’d never been near her without putting his hands through
the curly locks, inhaling the lavender smell that rose from her head. He’d
always loved to run his hands over her back while they were enjoying each other
physically, delighting in the feel of the silky tresses against the velvety
softness of her skin. And how wonderful her hair had always felt moving down
his chest, tickling him, as his wife bent over him in the night, sitting
astride him. And Amy had known how much he loved her hair, yet she’d cut it
anyway, without a thought to how he might feel…
But more than that, Amy’s act was the last straw in his being able to keep
himself together. Heath had been so busy worrying about his wife all this time
that he hadn’t given a thought to his own grief, his own loss. Did Amy think
she was the only one who mourned that baby? He had been so looking forward to
being a father, to showering a child with all the love and guidance that he’d
never received from Thomas Barkley. He’d imagined the day he’d be able to put
his son on the saddle in front of them, riding around the ranch together as he
showed him his legacy, his birthright. Teaching him to fish, to shoot, to
ride…and if it would have been a girl, he’d have done all of those things with
her as well, he knew. He wouldn’t have minded having a little princess he could
cherish.
And he missed his wife. Not just the physical part of their marriage, but also
his soul mate, the one who he could talk to about anything. She was his best
friend, in a different way than his brothers were, and the lack of her
companionship, her easy chatter, her laughter- it left a huge hole in his life.
The silence emanating from her day after day, night after night was starting to
get to him, and he didn’t know how much more he could take. He needed
someone…someone alive, someone to make HIM feel alive.
How many mornings in the past had he woken with Amy curled up next to him, her
back against his chest, his arm looped around her? Each morning had started
wonderfully, a promise of the day to come. Now he woke each day and it only
took a moment until he remembered, until he saw his wife on her side of the bed
and he realized that this day would probably be as hopeless as all the others.
He’d been so concerned about the fact that Amy hadn’t cried since it
happened…but he’d never given a thought to his own need for release. All the
weeks of grief and worry mixed with some uncharacteristic and reluctant
self-pity finally overflowed, and for the first time since he’d arrived home
that terrible day and had gotten the worst news he could imagine, he allowed
himself to cry.
The tears came quietly at first, but soon great heaving sobs left him,
seemingly without end. He cried for the loss of his child, and for what seemed
to be the loss of his wife- and, not least of all, he expelled hot tears of
anger for the savagery that had been worked on Amy that terrible night, the
terror and pain she’d been made to endure. It was unimaginable to him that all
of these things had happened when just a short time ago they’d been so happy,
so looking forward to the future, and he continued to weep until it seemed that
he’d never have a tear left to shed ever again. He wiped his eyes and felt
somewhat better, but still with a bitter pit of sadness remaining inside him.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, but he finally noticed that the sun had
shifted and that it must be almost sunset. He sighed and got up, mounted up on
Charger and rode slowly back to the house.
The sudden knock on the front door caused Amy to jump, and
Nick looked at her sympathetically before getting up to answer it. Heath was
disappointed to see that she still hadn’t gotten over this other remnant from
that terrible night. Ever since it had happened, sudden noises or movements
scared her, caused that frightened look to take hold of her features. “Just
Duke, letting me know that Sally’s colic seems to have passed,” Nick said on
the way back to the dinner table. He’d been worried about the mare and had told
the foreman to come to the big house with any updates on her condition.
As everyone resumed eating, Jarrod seemed to hesitate for a moment. He finally
decided to try, hoping for the best. “Amy,” he said, forcing her to look up
from her plate. “I saw Harriet Reynolds in town today. She was wondering
whether you’d like to help her plan the next fundraiser for the library.” He
almost crossed his fingers that this time she’d answer in the affirmative, but
was not rewarded. “Please tell her that I’m sorry, Jarrod, but I can’t,” she
answered.
Victoria, looking pained, decided to try as well. “Are you sure, dear?” she
asked. You had such a good time working on the last one, and you did such a
wonderful job-“
“I said I don’t want to, Mother,” Amy answered quietly before looking back down
at her plate. Heath caught his mother’s eye, and she shook her head at him,
smiling slightly, trying to reassure him that nothing terrible had happened.
Heath sighed quietly. For the past two weeks, ever since he’d walked in on Amy
cutting her hair, hardly a word had passed between the couple. He’d taken an
occasional stab at making her talk to him, but had given up easily at her usual
rebuffs- too easily. He didn’t like what was happening to them- or to him. He
wasn’t usually the type to just let a problem grow and grow and hope for the
best.
But something had happened to him that day when he had walked into their
bedroom and found her with that hideous pile of hair on the table in front of
her. Something in him had started to give up, to realize the futility of the
situation- and it scared him. He felt as if he were trying to keep from
drowning in the middle of the ocean, and the effort of treading water was
proving to be too exhausting, too draining, and he was about to just give up
and let himself go under.
But what scared him most of all was that Amy seemed quite content with the way
things were between them. It was painfully obvious that she’d be quite happy to
go on being strangers to one another indefinitely. If neither of them was going
to do anything about this, what chance did they have?
He looked at his wife picking once again at her food and something took hold of
him. This couldn’t go on anymore- not one day more. And he finally realized
that it was up to him to do something about it. An idea had come to him earlier
that day, but he was hesitant to act on it without at least trying once more to
draw her out of herself.
As they were finishing dessert, Heath turned to his wife. “There’s a full moon
out tonight. How ‘bout I take my best girl for a walk?” he asked, the
lighthearted tone he’d forced into his voice belying his pessimism.
And as he’d feared, Amy shook her head. “No, I’m kind of tired. I think I’ll
just go to bed. Goodnight,” she bade the family, and walked to the staircase
without so much as a glance at her husband.
Everyone looked down at their plates, not wanting to see the hurt on Heath’s
face, or for him to see the discomfort and sadness on theirs. When they looked
up, they saw him sitting there with his jaw clenched, looking almost…angry. He
suddenly got up, almost knocking over his chair, and went outside without
another word. A few minutes later they heard the unmistakable sound of the ax
hitting the chopping block.
They listened for a while until Nick finally got up and walked out the door. He
found Heath with his shirt off, doggedly chopping wood, ignoring the full wood
box. He swung the ax, muscles straining with his efforts, a slight sheen of
sweat on his upper body despite the cool night air.
“Heath,” Nick said hesitantly, coming to stand next to him. “Heath, tell
me…just tell me what I can do…”
Heath stuck the ax into the chopping block and leaned on the handle, breathing
heavily. “There’s nothin’, Nick…nothin’ anybody can do. It finally hit me…she
doesn’t want to get
better. She’s plannin’ on spendin’ the rest of her life…our lives…inside that
wall she’s put up around herself.” There was a catch in his voice as he spoke.
“Nick, it scares the hell out of me.”
Nick ran a hand through his dark hair, desperately searching for words to
comfort his brother. “Heath…you know, when that cat had at me, I felt a little
like Amy at first. In shock, not really a part of things. It was like I was
seeing everyone through…oh, I don’t know, through glass or something.” He
unconsciously touched the spot on his arm where, under his shirt, lingered the
faint remains of the mountain lion’s scratches. “Not that I’m comparing what
happened to me with what happened to her. Hell, what that girl’s been through…”
He hurried on at the sudden look of anguish on Heath’s face. “Point is, Heath,
my scars healed pretty fast. I figure hers are the kind you can’t see. They’re
deep, and she’s just gonna need more time, is all…”
“But how much time, Nick?” Heath interrupted. “It’s been, what- over a month
and a half, and she’s no better. Do you know she still won’t let me touch her?
And I’m not even talkin’ about…” He paused for breath, too upset to be
embarrassed at touching on such an intimate subject with his brother. “I can’t
even put my arm around her, just to comfort her, without her stiffenin’ up. So
I just don’t bother anymore. We’re like two strangers who live in the same house.
I’ll tell you the truth, Nick, I’m scared for my marriage. I don’t know what’s
gonna happen to us. I…I just miss my wife, I want her back…”
Nick was taken aback by the tears in his brother’s eyes. In all the time he’d
known him, he’d never really seen him cry before. Those tears scared him. For
Heath’s strength, his indomitable spirit, was a constant, a bulwark of support
in Nick’s own life. To see him like this, eyes wet, devoid of hope, turned
Nick’s whole world upside down, made it less safe, less secure.
Nick put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. “Heath…I…I
wish I had the answer for you, honest I do. I guess all I can do is…be here,
for whatever you need, whenever you need it. Just know that,” he urged.
Heath nodded, feeling a bit of relief after getting some of his feelings off
his chest. It did help him to know that he had a brother, two in fact, who’d be
there for him no matter what. He stood there, almost imbibing Nick’s strength
and support as though it were passing from his brother’s hand to his own
shoulder.
He turned to his brother. “Actually, Nick, there’s somethin’…I don’t know if
it’ll do any good, but I’ve been thinkin’ about taking Amy away from here for a
while. I figure maybe if it’s just the two of us alone somewhere…Oh, I don’t
know, it’s probably a long shot, but I just don’t know what else to do.” He ran
a hand through his hair. “I was thinkin’ about takin’ her back to the cabin in
the mountains.” He stopped, realizing the burden he was about to place on his
brother’s shoulders. “Look, I know I got no right tellin’ you I wanna take off
now, not when things are so busy here. I don’t even know how long we’d be
gone.” He sighed. “I hate leavin’ you high and dry like this.”
But Nick was already nodding his head, eager to give Heath his blessing, happy
that his brother had a plan,
that something was finally going to be done.
“Heath, I think that’s a great idea. You do that, that could be just the
thing.” Not for anything in the world would he have told Heath how difficult
his sudden departure would make things for him on the ranch. “Look, Heath, that
girl’s not just your wife or my sister-in-law. She’s a part of this family, and
we all love her.” He looked at Heath and smiled. “Don’t get your head swelled
up thinking you’re so important that I can’t manage around here without you.
We’ll be fine.” He squeezed his brother’s shoulder again. “You just bring our
girl back to us, you hear?”
Heath smiled back at him, feeling better himself now that he’d finally decided
on a course of action. “Thanks, brother. And I’ll try my damndest, believe me.”
He put his shirt on and two men walked back into the house.
When Heath opened the bedroom door, he found Amy sitting on the chaise lounge,
a book in her hands. He could tell, though, that she wasn’t really reading it.
He sat down next to her, making sure to keep his distance. “Amy, I’ve been
thinkin’…” he started gently. “It might be a good idea for us to get away for a
while, just you and me. I thought we’d go up to the cabin where we had our
honeymoon. How does that sound, darlin’?” he asked hopefully, though he knew
full well what her answer would be.
But Amy had a look of horror on her face. “No, I don’t think so. I…no.”
He saw the fear in her eyes, fear at leaving the safety of the house, and, he
saw to his dismay, fear at being alone with him.
But he wouldn’t back down. “Darlin’, I don’t know what else to do. I’m worried
about you…about us.” Forgetting himself for a moment, he took her hand in his
but she silently removed it. More firmly, he said, “We tried it your way. Now
we’re gonna try it mine. Some time away from here might be just what you need.”
The fear in her eyes was even more palpable as she answered, “Heath, I said I
don’t want to go,” a bit more loudly this time.
Heath’s voice, in contrast, lowered slightly, but stayed firm. “Sorry, but I’m
not askin’ you, I’m tellin’ you. We’ll be leavin’ first thing in the mornin’.”
He got up and started walking to the door.
“I won’t go!” she almost shouted.
Heath hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. He was disappointed in her reaction
to his news, though it’d been what he’d expected. He was heartened at least
that she was displaying the first bit of emotion he’d seen from her in a long
time.
“I’ll send Mother up to help you pack,” he said, opening the door and leaving
the room. Amy knew that tone. He’d never used it with her before, but she’d
heard him talk like that on the rare occasion that one of the hands decided he
didn’t want to obey an order, or did shoddy work. It was a tone that brooked no
argument, that told the listener he meant what he said and heaven help anyone
who dared challenge him. It was almost frightening in its quiet ferocity. She
knew that it would be useless to argue with him further, and turned over
resignedly on the chaise lounge.
“Heath, you’re all set. Wagon’s all loaded,” Nick said, testing one last cord
to make sure it was tight.
“Thanks,” Heath said, clapping his brother on the arm. “I mean that, Nick…for
everything.”
Nick nodded at him, words made unnecessary by the look that passed between the
two brothers.
Victoria stepped forward to give her daughter-in-law a kiss good-bye. It
saddened her to see the look of misery on Amy’s face, when the prospect of what
could have been a romantic getaway with her loving husband should have made the
young woman so happy. “Have a good time, dear,” she said, hugging her tightly.
Amy tried to smile at her but couldn’t quite manage, so she just nodded.
Nick turned to his sister-in-law. “Don’t you let my brother forget how lucky
is, getting a vacation like this while the rest of us slobs have to work for a
living, huh?” He smiled broadly at her, and was rewarded with a small twist of
her lips. “Good girl,” he said, giving her a hug.
Audra and Jarrod said their good-byes, with Jarrod quietly reciting a few words
from one of Amy’s favorite poems. “’Patience and fortitude’, honey”, he said,
squeezing her hand. “You just remember that.” She silently prayed for a
reprieve from having to go, but soon Heath led her to the front of the wagon
and helped her into the seat.
He turned to his family, heartened by their love and support. “Like I said, I
expect we’ll be gone a week or two, but if it’s gonna be longer than that, I’ll
get over to Maryville and wire you.” But they all prayed that it wouldn’t take
that long for him to find his wife again. They waved as the wagon rode off into
the distance.
Heath slowly bent down and picked up a few of the chopped logs to take into the
cabin. He looked at the front door, not wanting to go in.
They’d been there for three days, and things were worse than ever. At least
back home, there’d been a few words exchanged between them, an air of civility.
Of course, he’d always been the initiator, and Amy’s responses weren’t much more
than what politeness had required. But ever since he’d told her about this
trip, she’d barely said two words to him. It had been a long, silent ride to
the mountains. Amy’s anger at him over making her take this trip had been
palpable, and still was.
One reason Heath had chosen the cabin was because it was one large room, with
no place to hide. He’d figured she’d have to talk to him sooner or later, but
so far it wasn’t working. If anything, it made their situation that much worse,
confined together in such close quarters. She’d sit looking out the window or
reading a book she’d brought along, completely ignoring his every attempt at
conversation. Not once had she offered to help with any of the chores, and
while she obediently carried out every task he gave her, she did it silently,
her resentment over being there obvious.
Maybe this trip had been a mistake, he thought. But he hadn’t known what else
to do. He picked up the last piece of wood and started back for the cabin. Not
for the first time, he’d come outside on the pretext of chores when what he’d
really wanted to do was escape the tense atmosphere. Supper had been a gloomy
affair, and he’d desperately needed some fresh air.
Heath suddenly felt a drop of rain on his face, and he looked up at the sky to
see a gathering of black clouds moving over the waning daylight. It was clear
that a storm was coming, and soon. He took a deep breath as he adjusted the
firewood in his arms, and opened the door.
Heath entered the cabin accompanied by a low rumble of
thunder. “Storm’s comin’” he said over his shoulder as he dumped the firewood
in the bin. He poked at the hearth’s burning logs with a stick, not anxious to
turn to his wife just yet.
“Heath.” Her voice was low. Heath looked at her, surprised. He couldn’t
remember the last time she’d initiated a conversation with him. But the slight
uplifting of his mood was tamped down by her next words.
“Heath, I want to go home tomorrow.”
He sighed and shook his head. “No way. We just got here.”
She spoke again, this time more insistently. “We’ve been here three days. How
long will it take until you realize that this trip was a mistake? A week? Two
weeks? Nothing’s changed, nothing is going to change. I want to go home.”
“I said no, Amy, and I meant it,” he replied, his jaw tightening.
She went on as if he hadn’t spoken, watching the droplets of rain as they
started hitting the windowpane. “And when we get home, I’m going to pack my
things and stay with my uncle for a while until I decide what I’m going to do.”
“What do you mean, ‘what you’re going to do’?” Heath asked warily.
Amy looked at him. “I mean where I’m going to live. I’ll probably go back to
St. Louis, I’ve got family and friends there. There’s plenty of money from the
sale of my father’s business for me to buy a house.” At the slack-jawed look on
her husband’s face, she continued. “Don’t worry, when I have an address, I’ll
send word to Jarrod so he can mail me the papers.” She went to the bureau,
opened a drawer, and started taking her clothes out of it. A sudden crash of
thunder broke the silence that followed her words and he saw her cringe at the
noise before returning to her task.
“Papers?” Heath spat out. He knew what she meant, but he couldn’t say the word.
She stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him. “Divorce papers,” she
said quietly.
That did it. Heath quickly walked over to her, threw the clothes back into the
drawer, and slammed it shut, startling her. “So that’s it? You decide that our
marriage is over and I’m just supposed to go along with it? Just like that?” He
was trying to control his anger, but it wasn’t easy.
“It’s not what I’ve decided, it’s the way things are,” she answered.
The calm way she said it infuriated him. Didn’t she care, didn’t their marriage
matter to her? “Not from where I’m standin’, they aren’t,” he said angrily.
“You’re willin’ to just walk away without givin’ us a chance, without even
tryin’ to make things better?” He shook his head. “I don’t understand any of
this. Tell me, just tell me why you think I’d want a divorce!”
She sighed. “Heath, please, don’t make this any harder than it is. Lets just go
back tomorrow and be done with it and-“
“No!” he pounded his fist on the table. “You give me one good reason why our
marriage isn’t worth fightin’ for. Go ahead, I wanna know!”
His uncharacteristically loud anger was starting to unnerve her. “Heath, stop
it! I don’t want to talk about it anymore, please-“
His voice grew even louder, as much out of anger as to be heard over the
increasingly loud claps of thunder. “We haven’t talked about it at all! That’s
the whole problem!” He suddenly grabbed her arms, determined once and for all
to get to the bottom of things, no matter what. All this time, he’d always
brought up that night as gently as he could, not wanting to push her- maybe
that had been a mistake. “What makes you think I’d want to divorce you, that I
don’t love you anymore?” His voice lowered slightly. “Do you…do you blame me
for not bein’ there when it happened, for not protectin’ you from…him? Is that
it?”
She squirmed, trying unsuccessfully to free herself from his grasp. She didn’t
like the turn this conversation had taken, didn’t want to even touch on this
subject. “Please, let me go!” she insisted.
“No!” he shouted, his voice rising again. “Not until you tell me why you think
our marriage is over!”
“I said let me go!” she shouted back.
His grip on her arms only tightened. “Tell me!” he insisted.
Her voice rose even louder. “Don’t pretend you’re not relieved!”
Heath just shook his head. “I’m still waiting!” he yelled.
“Why are you doing this, why do you even care?” she yelled back without
thinking. “Why would you want to stay married to me after I…” she stopped,
shocked at what she’d almost said. She started trembling, her face filled with
fear. She had managed to protect herself all this time and now he was getting
dangerously close.
“What?” Heath hissed.
She shook her head, trembling harder now. “No, please…” she said unsteadily.
“Say it!” he insisted. “Just say it, once and for all!”
She tried again to get away from him, tried to keep from looking at him but he
jerked her back roughly and made her face him.
“After you what?” He was almost hoarse by now from shouting. “Dammit,
tell me, after you what?” he demanded, shaking
her, his face almost touching hers, finally pushing her to her limit.
“After I killed our baby!”
she screamed.
He stood there, shocked into silence, and as his hands loosened his grip on her
she took the opportunity to run past him, out the door and into the pouring
rain.
He ran out after her. “Amy!” he yelled, not seeing her in the dark storm.
“Amy!” A flash of lightning illuminated the scene and he spied her running
ahead of him. He tore after her, ignoring the sheets of rain that immediately
soaked him to the skin. He caught up to her and grabbed her from behind.
“No!” she shouted. “Get away from me! Leave me alone!” But he wouldn’t. She
started screaming and wouldn’t stop, and he finally picked her up in his arms
and carried her back to the cabin. The trek was made difficult by the rain and
by her pounding her fists against his chest and arms, still screaming.
They finally got back inside the cabin and he put her down, kicking the door
shut behind him. “Amy,” he said softly. She leaned against the wall and wrapped
her arms around herself, shaking, unable to stop the high-pitched wails of
anguish. He wanted to take her into his arms but was afraid she would quiet
down, and as much as it hurt him to see her this way, he knew that she needed
to get it out- all of it.
Finally her screams subsided, more from exhaustion than anything else and she
stood there, breathing heavily. “Amy,” he said again, gently, barely noticing
that he was soaked through. “Sweetheart…you didn’t…you didn’t kill our baby…why
would you think that?”
“I did,” she insisted in a hoarse whisper, tears pouring down her cheeks. “It
was my fault. My fault,” she said, unable to look at him.
“No,” he said, still afraid to hold her, wanting her to say what had been
preying on her all this time.
“Yes!” She cried suddenly, closing her eyes, going to another place. “I told
him that I was pregnant. I thought it would make him… leave me alone but it didn’t…all
I did was make him more determined to...” The words came out in a rush, pouring
out as if she couldn’t get them out fast enough, accompanied by her sobs. “And
then…when he tried to…,” she sobbed again and squeezed her arms even tighter
around herself as her tears mixed with the rain that was dripping from her
hair.
“I…I fought him, scratched his face…he got so angry…that’s when he hit me and I
fell, and our baby…our baby’s dead, all because I was so worried about my…my
precious virtue…” she said with self-loathing. She
opened her eyes but couldn’t see anything through the tears. She couldn’t stop
crying, couldn’t catch her breath enough to go on.
Heath stood there, his heart breaking at her words and anguish, his hands
unconsciously clenched into fists. Finally, she was able to speak again. “I was
so scared…the way he touched me…all over….” She unconsciously put a hand to her
hair and in a flash, Heath understood why she’d cut it all off. “But maybe if
I’d…if I’d let him…our baby wouldn’t have died. It’s my fault, my
fault, can’t you see that?” she demanded as her
sobs started again. “How can you not hate me…how can you even stand to look at
me after what I did? I failed you.” Her last words were a tortured whisper as
she covered her eyes with her hands, crying her heart out.
Heath couldn’t bear it any longer. He grabbed her and folded her into his arms,
holding her tightly. “Shh,” he soothed into her wet hair. She tried to move
away but he wouldn’t let her, and they stood there for a while until he gently
pulled back from her. He took her hands down from her eyes and forced her to
look at him. “You listen to me,” he said firmly, his own eyes wet. “What
happened was not your fault, do you understand that?” At the shake of her head
he repeated, “It wasn’t your fault. It was…it was his,”
he said, not wanting to utter that creature’s name. “You didn’t do anything
wrong. I don’t blame you and I never have.”
Amy shook her head again. “No,” she whispered. “Maybe if I hadn’t told him, if
I’d tried harder to reason with him instead…and if I hadn’t fought him he
wouldn’t have hit me…the baby wouldn’t have…” she couldn’t say it again.
He let go of her hands and gently took hold of her shoulders. “And if you
hadn’t…he would have had his way with you- no, listen to me!” he insisted as
she turned her head away. “And he might have hurt you even worse than what he
did…the baby could have…could have died anyway and maybe you too…and then I’d
have lost both of you…no, Amy," he said emphatically. "I’m glad you
fought back. You saved yourself. Yes, you did!” he insisted again as she shook
her head. “And nothin’ you said or didn’t say would have made any difference.
There’s not a doubt in my mind about that.” He closed his eyes for a moment,
stunned to find out that she’d been carrying so much guilt around for so long.
“Darlin’…listen to me…I mourned the loss of our child…I still do,” he said
quietly, sadly. “But we can get through that…together. I’m not sayin’ it’s
gonna be easy, but…” He sighed. “And I’m not sayin’ we have to forget about the
baby…but…but we can move on, we can have a life again, we can survive.” He
looked at her as the tears fell from his eyes. His voice was hoarse with
emotion as he spoke.
“But one thing I couldn’t survive would be losin’ you. If you decided to leave
me…or if somethin’ had happened to you, if he’d…Amy, I don’t think I could go
on. I…I’d have no reason to get up in the mornin’ if you weren’t there next to
me. You’re my life.” There was a catch in his voice as he continued. “I can’t have
you spend the rest of your life blamin’ yourself for somethin’ that wasn’t your
fault…and I can’t let you throw our marriage away…don’t you know how much I
love you? You’re in my heart, you’re a part of me…”
They stood there in silence, looking at each other, until he gently pulled her
into his arms again, praying that she wouldn’t resist.
“Heath, I…” she murmured against his neck.
“Shh,” he whispered, carefully rubbing her back. Suddenly he stopped, shocked.
She was embracing him.
Her arms were around his waist, holding him tightly. Slowly, carefully, he led
her the few steps to the bed and sat them both down on it, still holding each
other silently.
After a while Amy lifted her head and looked at him. “Heath…I’m tired, really
tired.” And for the first time in almost two months, he believed her. He could
see that she was having trouble keeping her eyes open, and she looked exhausted
from her ordeal.
He looked down and suddenly realized that they were both still wearing their
wet clothes. “Lets get you out of these wet things first, you can’t go to sleep
like that, you’ll catch a chill.” She nodded as he got up and found her
nightgown. He hesitated, and then started taking off her clothes, undressing
her as though she were a little girl. She let him, as she sat there practically
numb with fatigue, and finally he put her nightgown over her head and she
managed to get her arms into the sleeves. He found a towel and squeezed most of
the excess water out of her hair.
Heath helped Amy settle into bed, and as she put her head to the pillow he
lifted the blanket up and tucked it around her shoulders. He stood there for a
moment, just looking at her as her eyes finally closed. He went to the
fireplace, adding enough wood to keep the cabin warm and cozy for the next
several hours before removing his own wet clothes and replacing them with dry
ones. Carefully, he lay down on the bed, not wanting to wake her, but her deep,
even breathing told him that he didn’t have to worry about that.
He lay there, listening to the receding thunder and the rain pattering against
the windows, and watched her until sleep finally overtook him as well.