“I'm not ashamed of either of you.” His palm rested on her arm. “But if we don't bide our time wisely, we'll lose everything.”
Why did she feel like she was losing everything anyway? “Then tell me, Charles, where am I supposed to go when I need your help?”
“My help?” He searched her face, his breaths slowing. “What do you mean?”
Charlie started nudging toward her, likely hungry, so Kizzie carefully turned to adjust her gown so that she could feed him as she told Charles of the morning's events.
His pale face offered some solace to her. At least he seemed to feel the horror of the situation a little. “I'll find a way to end this.”
“How?”
“I'm not sure.” He removed his hat and pushed a hand through his hair. “But I'll ask around. See if someone knows anything about who would do this.” He took Kizzie's free hand into both of his. “You can trust me to help you when you're scared, Kizzie, but …” He halted, looking away as if searching for an answer in the air. “If you need me again, don't come here. Send Joshua to find me.”
The flicker of sweetness budding in her chest when he took her hand wilted inside her. “But don't come myself?” The admission gouged at her heart. “Don't sully your pretty little world with your kept woman?”
“Kizzie.” He squeezed her fingers as she tried to pull away. “It's not like that at all.”
“Your mama's right, Charles. I've got nothin’ to bind me to you but this baby, and even with him it's just my word. The word of a fallen woman don't carry a whole lot of weight.”
“You have my promise.”
“I appreciate your promise.” She caught the laugh before it released. “I do. But your promise won't hold water in a court of law or if, God forbid, something happens to you.” Her voice trembled. “Don't you see? As much as I'd like to rely on your promise, the truth is it's only as lasting as your life and your mama's patience. I have nothing to protect me or Charlie.”
He lowered his eyes, slowly shaking his head.
“And … what if they come back?” She hated how her voice trembled, so she swallowed to clear it. “What if they come tonight and do worse?”
He blew out a long stream of air that puffed into a smoky hue around them. “Then I'll send Cole to keep watch around the place. How about that?”
Cole, his cousin and right-hand man.
And someone Kizzie never felt quite comfortable around. Her chest tightened.
But what choice did she have? She shook her head. “I'll talk to Joshua and Nella. They care about me and Charlie.”
Charles’ expression tightened for a second before he released a sigh. “Fine, but I'll come by tomorrow afternoon, and we'll sort this out together.”
He kissed her cheek and remounted his horse, giving her a long look before he rode back in the direction of his house.
She readjusted Charlie so he could sleep and continued her trek the way she'd come. Hopefully, she'd not worn out her welcome with Joshua and Nella, but at the moment, they seemed the only people in the world she could trust with her situation.
How silly she'd been to trust in fairy tales and storybooks. To believe leaving her mountains would offer her a life of castles and romance.
That “perfect” waited somewhere in the flatlands.
All of this was only partially Charles’ fault. She'd placed him on a pedestal, charmed and mesmerized that he'd chosen her from among all the other gals. Coming from a place where she'd grown up with the boys in the mountains, his fine clothes, sweet smell, and pleasing words met every hope she had when she'd left home to take the maid's job.
How blind she'd been to think she knew how the world worked!
How shortsighted to doubt her mama's advice!
She didn't know a whole lot about the love betwixt a man and a woman, but she knew enough to know that it had to be more than this uncertainty and wondering and … loneliness.
No wonder the idea of knights and princes and gallant men of old were lost to time and childhood. They didn't exist, except in stories, and she'd been a fool to hang her future on the silly notions.
Men were men.
They were going to take care of themselves first, weren't they, with no care for the women in their lives, especially if the women weren't highbrow, rich ones.
