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Authors: Tracie Peterson

Tags: #Single women—Fiction, #Frontier and pioneer life—Fiction, #FIC042030, #Family secrets—Fiction, #FIC042040, #FIC042000, #Man-woman relationships—Fiction

A Moment in Time (19 page)

BOOK: A Moment in Time
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She made her way to the bedroom. Mama was resting on the bed, but her eyes were open and she gave the slightest smile as Alice entered the room.

“I was hoping I might see you today.”

Alice pulled up a chair close to the small bed. “I’m sorry I didn’t come before church.”

“That’s all right.”

Mother looked so small and helpless. Even though the bed was narrow, it seemed to swallow her up. Alice drew a deep breath to steady herself and prayed for strength.

“You look tired,” her mother said.

“I was worried about you,” Alice admitted.

Her mother seemed surprised by this confession. “You don’t need to. I’m just weary.”

“I probably added to that weariness.” Alice stared at her hands and folded them in her lap. “Mama, I’m sorry that things weren’t good between you and Papa. I didn’t know. I thought that was just the way husbands and wives treated each other. I had no way of knowing otherwise. We didn’t socialize, so I didn’t have other families to learn from.”

“I know,” her mother said in a barely audible voice. “I’m so sorry that you didn’t have those people in your life. Given your father’s choices, we stayed mostly to ourselves to avoid problems. I always wanted better for you and Simon.”

“I think I know that,” Alice admitted, “but you have to know how much it hurt when you went away. I thought . . . I thought it was my fault.”

“Oh, Alice, no. It was never your fault.” Her mother reached out to touch Alice’s knee. “Children are never to blame for the mistakes of their parents. I kept hoping that things could be different, hoping that your father would accept Simon and realize I had never betrayed him. I kept hoping . . . until my hope was all used up.”

Alice nodded. “I know how that feels. I kept hoping you and Simon would come home, and when Papa told me you were dead, my hope was used up, too.”

“I’m so very sorry, Alice. Please know that I always loved you, and I love you still. Please forgive me for not being a better mother.”

Something inside Alice yielded to the sincerity in her mother’s voice. She reached out and took hold of her mother’s hand. “I forgive you. I love you, Mama.” Her voice broke
and despite her resolve, Alice buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

She felt her mother’s engulfing arms. Mama sat up to take hold of her, and Alice had never been happier. She held tightly to her mother’s small frame. It was a moment in time that Alice longed to hold on to forever. After a long while, Alice straightened and met her mother’s tear-filled eyes.

“I want to know more.” She hesitated. “I want to know what was in the box Mrs. Ingram sent you. I want to know more . . . about Papa.”

Her mother smiled. “And I want to tell you.” She motioned to a bag beside the bed. “I brought most of what she sent. I thought you might want to see it. I also brought your father’s letters to me.” She licked her lips, and Alice could see that they were dry.

“Would you like a drink?” Alice reached for the glass of water on the nightstand. She wanted more than anything to see the letters and the other things in the bag, but they could wait. Alice handed her mother the glass and waited for her to drink. Once done, Alice returned the water to the table and picked up the bag.

“Is this the bag you were talking about?” Alice asked, knowing it was but suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

“Yes. Everything is in there. I want you to have it.”

For a moment Alice only looked at the small cloth bag. She wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry for being so upset when you tried to talk to me,” Alice began. “It was wrong of me.”

“You were hurt—you still are. I can see that in your eyes, and I wish I could take it from you. The scar you bear on your face is only one of many that you have from the past. Deep within you are many reminders.”

Alice met her mother’s sad eyes and nodded. “It’s . . . it’s
just so hard to think of Papa the way you described. I don’t want to think badly of him.”

“Then don’t. He was a good father in many ways to you. No one can take that from you.”

“But he wasn’t good to Simon? Or to you?”

Her mother shook her head. “Not at the end. There was a time when I was very happy with him despite his jealous rages. I felt cared for and safe. As the years went by and his suspicions grew, however, it was no longer the same. I felt as if I were in a prison, locked and guarded in my cell. I could have endured that if not for the way he treated Simon.”

“Why did you choose to go when you did?”

“Simon had started asking questions, and he didn’t understand some of the painful things he heard your father and me say to each other. Remember, you were at school during the day, and Simon was home with me. With your father’s growing suspicions that I was being unfaithful, he had taken to coming home without warning. I think he figured to catch me with some lover.”

Alice frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“Your father was often harsh with Simon. Your brother tried so hard to win his affection, and George would have no part of it. He even started hitting the boy—not for the purpose of correction but out of his hatred.”

“That’s the part I find so hard to believe.”

“You can ask Simon if you’d like. He remembers it well. He still holds his own sorrow for the fact that his father never loved him.”

“Just like I bore the sorrow thinking you didn’t love me.” Alice bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

“But I always loved you, Alice. Always. If you read through
those letters, I think you’ll see the truth for yourself. It will be painful, but I want you to know the truth.”

Alice looked at the bag and nodded. “I’ll read them.” And even as she said the words, Alice knew the letters would forever change everything. Without reading a single one, she knew that the things her mother had spoken were no doubt true.

Chapter 19

“Did you speak with the doctor?” Hannah asked Marty. She had just finished washing the breakfast dishes while Marty gathered the ingredients to bake bread.

Marty nodded and placed a canister of flour near a large mixing bowl. “He’s the same old doctor he’s always been—full of admonitions and cautionary tales.”

“He’s much too old, and his medicine is outdated,” Hannah replied. “You’d do best to rely on me. I don’t say that as a matter of pride, but I know how obsolete some of his philosophies can be.”

“It would be nice to have a younger doctor come to the community.” Marty remembered something her husband had said. “You know, Jake has good friends in the Lufkin area—a married couple and both are doctors.”

“A woman doctor—imagine that,” Hannah said, drying her hands. “It would be so nice to have a doctor who understands a lady’s body. Of course, just having a younger, more up-to-date physician would be wonderful. We had a couple
of younger doctors here last year, but they were encouraged to move their practice closer to Dallas.

“Will says with the number of ranches having grown in the area, he hopes to entice the railroad to build a spur out this way. Once in place, he feels certain we can encourage a little community of our own to spring up. It would make it a whole lot easier to get provisions that way.”

Marty tried to imagine the expansion of the area and smiled. “We’re definitely civilizing Texas.”

Laughing, Hannah handed her a dish towel. “I’m glad to have you home, Marty. Not just for the added help.” She grew thoughtful for a moment. “It was kind of lonely around here. Once the Montoyas decided to move back to Mexico, well, I didn’t have the heart to hire on new staff. I doubt I could find anyone to get along with me as well as they did.”

Marty smiled and began drying the dishes. “I remember how she taught me to make tortillas.”

“She taught me so much,” Hannah admitted. “And I suppose I taught her a thing or two.” She gave a chuckle. “We were definitely more like sisters than employer and employee.”

“That’s how it is for Alice and me. I guess that’s why I’m so grateful you allowed her to come with me and to stay here. I appreciate what you’ve done for her mother and brother, too.”

“Family is important. Staying close, whether in distance or just in heart, is something that will see you through the worst of life. It’s important to remember that, Marty.”

“I will,” she promised. Marty hesitated a moment and then decided to move the topic in a different direction. “I wonder if you would give me your opinion on something.”

Hannah looked surprised. It wasn’t often that Marty asked for anyone’s opinion, so her sister was bound to be rather taken aback. She waited a moment for Hannah to regain her
composure. “I’ve been thinking about something for a long time now. I discussed it with Jake back in Denver, but, since I learned about the baby I haven’t said anything more to him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know that I helped out at one of the orphanages in Denver?”

“Yes, I remember.”

Marty looked away, bit her lower lip for a moment, and tried to figure out how best to share her thoughts. “Well . . . you see . . . there are these three boys.” She turned back to find her sister watching her.

“I want to adopt them.” There, it was out. Marty waited for her sister to condemn her desires or at best chide her for her foolish thoughts. When she remained silent, Marty found the courage to continue. “I fell in love with them. Wyatt, Samuel, and Benjamin are their names.”

“How old are they?” Hannah began to busy herself with sifting flour.

“Wyatt is going to be eight in July. Sam and Benjamin are natural brothers. Sam is older—he’ll be seven in May. Benjamin’s just four. His birthday isn’t until September.”

“Sounds like quite a handful.”

Marty smiled at the memory of trying to teach Sam how to tie his shoes. Benjamin had felt the need to learn, too, and Wyatt came along to help instruct. It had turned into a catastrophe. “They can be. But they are precious to me, and I want very much to be their mother.”

“How does Jake feel about it?”

“Well, as I said, when I first wrote to you about the older orphans coming here to Texas, I also spoke to Jake about adopting. However, I’m sure he thought I meant to take only one—two at the most. We were financially well-off at that
time, and that’s not the case anymore. And, of course, I wasn’t expecting a child of our own.”

“And you’re afraid now he won’t want to adopt?”

“That and the fact that I had a letter from Mr. Brentwood, the director of the orphanage. Money has been very tight for them. Donations are way down, and all of Colorado is in a horrible state of depression. He’s closing the orphanage.”

“Where will the children go?” Hannah asked, her look revealing grave concern.

“To other orphanages, I suppose. The state runs several, and there are some churches that have their own organizations. But I don’t want that to happen to these boys. I want them to be with me—always. Is that wrong?”

Hannah shook her head. “Love is never wrong. It is often misplaced or premature, but I think there is always an element of good and right in it.” She smiled. “I think you should talk to your husband about this. Personally, I would love to have children around the ranch. You know that.”

Marty had heard her sister express this on more than one occasion. Maybe that was why she had decided to discuss the matter with Hannah first. She needed to see her sister’s reaction before speaking to Jake.

“I’ll talk to him tonight.” Marty felt a sense of relief in making the decision. Hopefully Jake would understand her heart.

A commotion outside drew their attention from the kitchen, and Hannah and Marty went to investigate. Several men were carrying another man, and when Marty saw that it was Jake, her heart all but stopped.

“What happened to him?” Marty heard Hannah ask.

“Horse got spooked and threw him. He would have been all right, but then the horse kicked and caught him square in the head.” That accounted for the blood running down his face.

“Bring him in and put him on the dining room table,” Hannah instructed. She held the screen door open for the men while Marty tried to regain her breath. It was as if Thomas’s accident were happening all over again.

She thought for a moment she might faint. Her vision swam before her and her face felt hot. But even as Marty considered giving in to the sensation, Hannah shook her hard.

“Come on, I said. I need your help.”

Marty wasn’t sure how, but she managed to follow her sister into the house. The men had positioned the unconscious Jake on the table, and Hannah was already examining him when Marty finally felt her senses return.

“Is he . . . ?” She found it impossible to ask the question on her mind.

Hannah wiped some of the blood from Jake’s wound with her apron and surveyed the situation. She opened each of his eyes and then closed them again. Next she listened to his heart, putting her ear against his chest.

Meanwhile, Marty stood helpless. Just as she had all those years ago with Thomas. She could almost see Thomas on the table in Jake’s place, only instead of a head wound it was a horrible gash in his abdomen.

“Marty, fetch me some hot water and clean dish towels. Let’s get him cleaned up and see if he’s gonna need stitching.”

For a moment Marty didn’t move. She wanted to—meant to—but her feet were fixed in place. She couldn’t tear her gaze from Jake’s lifeless body.

“Marty! Get me water now!” Hannah demanded.

Hearing her sister’s authoritative command shook Marty out of her haze. She hurried to the kitchen and dipped a small pan into the water reservoir. She poured the hot water
into a bowl, took up a dozen dish towels, and hurried back to the dining room.

Hannah motioned her to wet some of the towels. “Hand me one after you wring it out.”

Marty did as instructed and waited for her sister’s next command. When Hannah finally had the wound cleaned, Marty could see that it wasn’t all that deep.

“Head wounds always bleed bad, but I don’t think he’s gonna need stitches,” Hannah said. She looked to the men who were standing around waiting. “Looks to me that horse just grazed him. Let me bandage his head, and then you can take him to his room. Marty, go turn down the bed for them. Joe, Bert, remove his boots. Davis, help me get his bloody shirt off after I get the wound covered.”

Everyone worked together like a well-oiled machine. Hannah was quite adept at running the household and the men who worked for her. Marty seriously wondered if she could ever be that competent.

Readying the bed, Marty tried not to fear the worst. She prayed, just as she had prayed for Thomas. But this time, she didn’t feel quite as afraid. Maybe she was getting numb to all of this. Ranch accidents were everyday events. Maybe in her heart she’d given up hope that the cattle business could ever be safe.

Why would
I want to bring children into this?

It was only a matter of a few minutes when the men showed up carrying Jake. Marty got out of the way so they could put him on the bed. Once he was deposited, the boys left to get back to work. It was their way of life, and they seemed to accept it as part of the job.

Marty waited as Hannah checked Jake once again. He moaned softly. “I don’t think it’s all that bad, Marty. He’s
already showing signs of coming around. You stay here with him while I mix some salve for his head and get him something for the pain. When he wakes up, he’s going to have a doozy of a headache.”

Sitting on the bed beside her husband, Marty lifted his hand. She bent her cheek to it and remembered that she’d done the same with Thomas. She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Oh, God, please don’t take him from me. I love him so much. I need him so much.” She couldn’t stop her tears from falling. “Father, I have fought returning to Texas and the ranch for this very reason. I can’t bear to lose another husband. I can’t lose the father of my baby. Please don’t take him away.”

“Take who?”

Marty opened her eyes to see Jake looking at her in confusion. “Jake!”

He gave her a lopsided smile. “What’s all the fuss about? Who’s gettin’ taken away?”

Her chest felt tight and Marty gasped for air. “Oh, Jake.” She fell against his chest and wept.

Jake put his arm around her. “What’s all this? Why are you cryin’?”

“I thought . . . I couldn’t bear . . .” She couldn’t speak for the catch in her throat. Marty straightened and tried to regain control of her emotions. She replaced worry with anger, something she’d learned long ago helped her to compose herself after a shock. “You scared the life outta me, Jacob Wythe! I thought you were gonna die and leave me here in Texas.”

He smiled and shook his head. It was evident that he was in pain as he grimaced, but the smile returned and he put his hand up to her face. “Marty, you worry too much. I’m
not going anywhere. At least not until I see if I’ve got a son or a daughter.”

“You better not plan to go anywhere after that, either,” Marty scolded. “Here I wanted to talk to you about adopting three little boys, and instead you go get yourself hurt. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I think you were mighty inconsiderate, Mr. Wythe. Sometimes I don’t think you care for me like you claim.”

Jake gave a small chuckle. “Like I said, Mrs. Wythe, you worry too much.”

“What’s all the shouting about?” Hannah asked as she rushed into the bedroom with a small tray.

“My wife is giving me a mouth-whoopin’ for gettin’ hurt,” Jake replied in a lazy drawl.

Marty got to her feet. “Well, he deserves it. He knows how much something like this scares me. I think it’s mighty inconsiderate, given my condition.”

Hannah grinned and put the tray on the stand beside the bed. “Sounds like you’re being inconsiderate of
his
condition.”

“I haven’t got a condition,” Jake declared. He tried to sit up but fell back. “Well, at least not much of one.” He closed his eyes. “Think I’ll just rest a bit.”

“You’ve got that right,” Hannah said. “I’ll tie you to that bed if you don’t cooperate.”

“You won’t have to,” Marty said, coming alongside her sister. “If he thinks he’s gonna set foot out of that bed, he’s got another think coming. I’ll sit on him if I have to.”

Jake opened his eyes and gave her a half-cocked smile. “I just might test you out, Mrs. Wythe. Sounds like I could be in for a world of fun.”

“You’ll be in for a world of hurt if you don’t do exactly what my sister tells you to do,” Marty said.

Hannah shook her head and reached for the salve she’d brought. “I’ve dealt with children less troublesome than you two. Now, settle down while I redress this wound. I’ve brought you something to help with the pain, Jake, and don’t go tellin’ me that you haven’t got any. I know that head of yours is hard, but you’re gonna hurt for at least the rest of the day. I want you to promise me you’ll stay in bed—flat in bed and rest. Hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a wink at Marty. “Can Marty stay with me—maybe read to me?”

“Ha!” Marty declared, hands on hips. “You scare me nearly to death and then you want me to read to you?” All of the sudden she stopped and her hand went to her belly.

“What’s wrong?” Jake asked, looking concerned.

Hannah turned to her sister. “What is it, Marty? Are you in pain?”

Marty shook her head. “It’s been ongoing. The baby moves all the time.”

“That’s unusual,” Hannah said and looked at her oddly. “You’re hardly far enough along to have that kind of movement.”

Worry crept up Marty’s spine like a tingling snake. “Does this mean something’s wrong?”

“Not at all. But my guess is you’re further along than you realize. You said you weren’t sure if the baby was due in July or August. Maybe it’s coming sooner than that. Is it possible?”

Marty considered the matter for a moment. “I suppose so. There was such upheaval what with losing the house and Jake’s leaving.”

“My guess is this baby may come a month or two sooner than you think.”

She glanced over at Jake, who was watching her in wonder. “A month or two sooner?”

BOOK: A Moment in Time
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