Not marry her.
Good enough to bed, but not wed,as George had said about her.
And she saw Charles then. Even better than she had four months ago.
Perhaps a gentler type of George, but the same internal drive. Pleasing himself without counting the cost to others. Weak in character and morals.
Unsteady in self-control.
Driven by passion and pleasure.
But not love.
Not the hard, selfless, pain-bearing and joy-giving love she'd come to understand by living in the community of The Hollows and in the friendship of Noah Lewis.
“I can't marry you. Not yet.” He released a long sigh. “But I'll not expect anything … intimate until wecanwed.” Though his gaze sent the opposite message as it trailed down her again, as if cotton and lace didn't stand up against what he knew lay beneath. “How about that?”
Poor man. He had no idea what love really was.
“Your mama wanted to scare me off by having men shoot guns at a house where me and your baby stayed. That ain't no way to raise young'uns, Charles. Living under your mama's wrath? Worried that when the next time she gets mad she'll choose better gunmen? Acting like we're married when we're not.”
“I've given Mama an ultimatum too.” He leaned forward, pressing his finger into his chest. “If she targets you again, then I'll run away with you and she won't see me again.”
“You'd give up your inheritance for me?” That couldn't be true. “Seems that's the whole reason we can't marry in the first place.”
“We'd never get to the point of actually having to run away.” He looked away and shrugged a shoulder. “She doesn't reallywantme to go.” He regained her hands. “Can't you see? I want you with me. In my life. I need those children to know their daddy.” He softened the edge in his voice, the gentle Charles rising to the surface. Pleading. “I'll do about anything to get you to come home. You belong to me.”
“Aboutanything. About? Except marry me and give your children a name?” Her voice rose, the utter selfishness of his declarations driving out any fear his presence brought. “Except stand up to your mama to legitimize the familyyouchose to start but aren't brave enough to claim?”
“That ain't fair,” he growled, stepping back. “If I lose my inheritance, then I won't be able to take care of you at all.”
Then clarity struck and hit her like a knife to the chest. How had she been so stupid? “Charles, your mama would never disinherit you, would she?” Her eyes wilted closed, a deep sorrow growing through her chest. “You're her only child. Her pride and joy.”
“I wouldn't put it past—”
“And the two of you play this game of back-and-forth to manipulate people and situations for your own benefit.” Kizzie ran a hand down her face, the truth blooming clearer. His mama had mentioned him being with girls before Kizzie. Were there other children too? Other women he dangled along with unkept promises?
“That ain't true, Kizzie.” He moved toward her. “I care about you. I've always cared about you. I just have to make sure Mama—”
“Let's walk out together right now, Charles.” She waved back in the direction of the store. “Let's you and me walk down Main Street, and I'll introduce you to some of the shop owners round here and tell them you're the daddy of my child. It'll clear a good man's name, and you can prove your boast.” Kizzie started walking toward the front of the store. “Let's make that right at least.”
“Now, Kizzie.” Charles grabbed her arm and turned her around. “There ain't no cause to do that.” His cheeks darkened. “I still got some business in this town, and I don't want to get things off to a rough start.”
And the answer came clear as day. He'd never meant to marry her. Not from the start. Not ever. And even if Noah came to his senses today and decided not to marry her, Kizzie knew she wanted more than the scraps of a selfish man's affections.
Better that she have no man at all.
“You know what?” She looked up at him, the small part of her heart still connected to him aching a little. “I believe you do care about me in your own way, Charles. I believe that if your mama made things a little easier and I wasn't such a poor mountain girl, you'd actually consider marrying me.”
“Kizzie—”
“But that's all I'd ever be. A consideration. A last resort. And I won't be that for you or anyone else.”
“You're not—”
“And these children don't deserve to be a last resort either.” She stood taller, closing in, confidence steeping her words. “They deserve a man who won't be ashamed to call them his.”
“Now, Kizzie—”
