Layla tipped her head thoughtfully. When she pictured Trudie, she hadn’t ever thought she would defend Mark, either. “I have heard of you, Trudie.” She decided to keep her response minimal as she knew that most of what she learned about this woman had been gleaned from rumors heard in the general store. Mark never spoke of Trudie directly. He only hinted at how her abandonment had impacted him and the baby. Layla glanced down at Heath and back at the woman standing before her. There was no denying their resemblance. Not only did Heath have her curly brown hair, but he also had her cute little button nose.
“I’m not sure what anyone told you,” Trudie began, “but I was very sick after I had Heath. I couldn’t stop crying. I would wake up in the morning, and the tears would just begin flowing. Sometimes, I understood why I was so distraught. Heath was born premature, and from a very early age, we knew that he would never be able to see.” She took a deep breath. “But other times, I didn’t know what made me cry. Heath could be sleeping or snuggling into my arms, and I would just feel … melancholy.” She lifted her hands helplessly. “It’s hard to explain, and I know that I’m doing it poorly. There’s something I need you to understand, Layla. I didn’t leave because I didn’t love Heath. I left because I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t be here.” She gestured around the backyard and toward the house. “Nothing in it brought me joy, and I couldn’t stop blaming myself for Heath’s condition.”
Layla’s heart sank into her stomach. She remembered when her mother first lost her eyesight how she and her father tried to come up with reasons why it had happened so that they might be able to help cure her. But there was no magic solution. Sometimes terrible things just happen. And her mother would remind her to do her best to show God’s love to all his children.
“You weren’t to blame,” Layla said softly, shifting Heath. The little boy remained very quiet, as though he knew LaLa was having an important conversation. Layla wondered if he even recognized his mother’s voice.
Trudie rocked her head back and forth as if she were thinking over Layla’s kind words. “Well, I’m not real sure what to say to that,” Trudie confessed. “When I lived here, I was miserable, and I feared that I might always be that way. I didn’t want that for my son or for Mark.”
At the mention of Mark’s name, Layla narrowed her eyes. He had gone into town that morning, and Layla was expecting him to return at any moment. While Layla was sympathetic toward Trudie and might be convinced to let the woman spend a little time with Heath, she wasn’t sure how Mark would feel about that.
How would Mark react if he came home and found Trudie was back, and she was playing in the garden with Heath? The thought raced through Layla’s mind, but she couldn’t dare guess at an answer.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I just don’t understand, Mark thought, cracking the reins angrily. This morning, he had hitched Felix and Comet to the wagon and carted them into town to check on his farm equipment at Mr. Calhoun’s place. He wanted to ensure Mr. Calhoun was still actively trying to procure the necessary tools. But he was also going to Fitzpatrick’s General Store to pick up some seed. Though he had not purchased his seed from Emmett’s place in the past, he was connected to the Fitzpatrick family through marriage and had been disappointed by Mr. Calhoun, so he decided to share his business around.
However, even though Mark had come prepared, he returned home with an empty cart. He scoffed in disgust, and the wind carried it away, but the horses marched faster as they seemed to be urged on Mark’s tone.
It doesn’t seem possible, Mark thought, tension stabbing in his stiff shoulders. He went to pick up the seed first, as he thought it might be nice to try to plant some of the fruit trees he had envisioned, but Eliza said they were entirely sold out of those kinds of seeds.
“Sorry about that, Mr. Flint,” Eliza said regretfully. “I sold them all to a farmer a couple of days ago. Soon as Mr. Fitzpatrick returns, he will have to order some more, but I can’t really do all that. I can reorder easy things like bread and cakes, but it’s not my place to make large orders. I’m afraid I have to leave all that to Mr. Fitzpatrick. How do you think he’s doing anyway? You think he’ll be back soon?”
Mark snorted as he thought of the perky Eliza. He knew she wasn’t to blame for his difficulties, and now that he considered it, he probably had been rude to her, adding guilt to his terrible morning.
Mark shook his head vehemently as he recalled how his morning had gone from bad to worse. After realizing that the general store couldn’t fulfill his needs, Mark rode across town to Mr. Calhoun’s. Even though he had not intended to get his seeds from the supplier, he thought some seeds were better than none, so he had grown excited over the prospect.
But his hopes were dashed once more. “Sorry ‘bout that, Mistah Flint,” Mr. Calhoun said, tipping his large white hat at Mark respectfully. “I ran out of ‘em seeds about a week ago, and I sure am sorry ta tell ya, but your equipment’s not come in yet, eitha. Seems a railway car was robbed up near the border of the territory, and the pieces you wanted were taken.”
“Who would steal farm equipment?” Mark asked incredulously.
“Oh, people’ll steal anything, Mistah Flint. Workin’ in my business, I see people come in and take whateva they can,” Mr. Calhoun answered, shaking his head in dismay.
When he rounded the bend toward home and saw the red adobe bricks, Layla and the bedtime story she’d told Heath about Joseph flashed in his mind. Mark tried to remember how he felt when he cared less about his earthly possessions, and he let that feeling take him over as he led the horses and cart into the stables. The story wasn’t about Joseph’s glorious coat or even how his brothers had been jealous of it. He now understood, thanks to Layla, that there was more to the story than the possessions.
Billy rushed up to greet him. “Afternoon, Boss.”
“Billy,” Mark replied, tipping his black hat in polite acknowledgment after stepping down from the wagon.
“I came runnin’ to help ya unload the supplies, but …” Billy looked over the empty cart. “Things not go so well in town, Boss?”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Mark replied, disgruntled. “I still appreciate the help, though, Billy. Where’s Jack?” Mark scanned the stables, thinking it was odd that Jack wasn’t the one waiting for him. The young man was usually so eager to assist that he would pop up half a dozen times a day, volunteering to help.
Billy shrugged. “Haven’t got a clue. You want me to try to find him?”
“No thanks,” Mark answered. “I’m heading to the house now. I may come back down to the barn later, but I’d appreciate it if you took care of the horses for me.”
“No problem, Boss,” Billy said, handling the duties instantly. Mark strode toward the house, stretching his long legs. Even though it had been a short ride back from town, he had been tensed throughout it, and it was a relief to release some of it now.
Mark reasoned that as it was later in the afternoon, Layla and Heath would either be inside reading with Emmett or out in the garden, gathering something for supper. Skirting around the back of the house to check the garden first, he thought it might be pleasurable to sink his own fingers in the dry earth and pull up some vegetables.
He was so looking forward to spending some time with Layla and Heath that he froze in place when he saw his ex-wife, Trudie, standing near the garden.
“Trudie?” Mark asked, his dark eyebrows contracting; frown lines formed on his forehead. “What are you doing here?”
He marched toward where Trudie waited. Layla stood with Heath nestled into her with her back was to Mark, and she whirled around when she heard his voice, and he could see deep uncertainty in her eyes. Her eyes widened, full of concern, and from the way she clutched Heath, it was apparent that she was a little unnerved. Trudie, for her part, did not share the same expression. Her eyes looked hopeful. She was wearing a buttercup yellow dress he recognized as one of her favorites that she wore before she became pregnant, and it made her appear cheerful. Mark clenched his fists at his sides.
“What are you doing here?” he repeated, positioning himself between Trudie and his family. Layla and Heath were close behind him, but he felt better separating them from his ex-wife.
