Layla’s eyes lowered. She didn’t want to tell Mark what to do, but she thought she could make a helpful suggestion. “I think it might be a kindness you could do the both of them.”
“But what if she can’t handle it? What if she breaks again and she just leaves him alone?” Mark’s voice broke with anxiety, and he dug his hands deeper into the sandy ground. “Or, even worse, what if she decides she loves him very much and tries to take him away from me?”
Layla stared at him. “Is that what’s upsetting you so?”
Mark nodded glumly. “My mind keeps going to the worst possible situations. Either she will be unable to be in his presence and leave again, or she will adore him so much, she won’t want to give him up.” He shook his head dejectedly.
“You know, a verse in Ephesians chapter four says, ‘Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as Christ God forgave you.’ I think it suits the situation,” Layla said thoughtfully, progressing through the dirt. She removed a potato from the earth and tossed it into the woven basket by her right side.
“You think I should forgive her and just let her see Heath? You think I should show her compassion and just take my chances?” Mark’s brow contracted in frustration.
“Not exactly,” Layla said. “I think you should talk to Trudie. You only know that she wants to see Heath, but you don’t know much else about the situation. You may find, after talking to her, that she means no harm, one way or the other.”
“I don’t know,” Mark said slowly, raising a hand up from the dirt once more and clenching his fist. White lines appeared on his knuckles as he squeezed the soil compactly. “I’m not sure that I will ever be able to trust her again.”
“I understand that, Mark, but you won’t know anything until you speak to her yourself,” Layla soothed. She touched his hand that was squeezing the dirt. He relaxed it immediately, and the soft sand fell from his grasp. Though only slightly, the tension released in his shoulders as he nodded at her, and she returned to her task. When she found the next potato, Mark pulled it from the ground. They gathered one more before going back into the house.
Layla cleaned the vegetables and chopped them as she replayed the conversation she had just shared with Mark in her mind.It’s the right thing to do,Layla told herself.Mark needs to speak to Trudie, and if he decides it’s safe, Heath should be permitted to see his mother. It would be good for them to forgive one another and move past their differences.
Her forehead scrunched as she thought,If Mark and Trudie reconcile, what will that mean for me?If Trudie starts coming around her regularly, will Mark think of her fondly once more?She handled the knife blade efficiently, cutting the carrots into small slices while deep in her thoughts.
Pushing the pile of carrots aside, she chopped the potatoes into bite-sized cubes, cutting them smaller so they would be easier for Heath to eat.Trudie is an attractive woman. She is the mother of Mark’s child. He must have loved her very deeply once. If she starts coming around here all the time, every day even, will Mark’s feelings revive? Will he fall in love with her again?
She shook her head forcefully as she relived when Mark told Trudie she couldn’t see Heath. Mark couldn’t love Trudie anymore, even if she spent time at the house. He had dismissed her so quickly that he would never want to spend more than a few moments in her presence, even if he did consent for her to see Heath. With a sharp pang in her chest, Layla remembered how Mark had behaved towardherwhen she first arrived. So stoic when she made mistakes, he had been rather cruel. Even then, she could see that he put up these defenses to prevent himself from caring about people and risking them leaving him. But she found she couldn’t think about how he used to be without also considering the way he thawed toward her these past few weeks.
I care for Mark,Layla thought, lifting her chin proudly,and he cares for me, too. He wants me to be here, and he wants me to take care of Heath.Thinking lovingly of the little boy resting peacefully upstairs made her heart beat faster.
When Layla first came to the ranch, she worried that Mark would be dissatisfied with her and dismiss her. He might send her back to her father and demand his debts be paid with the forfeiture of the house and store. But now that Layla had become comfortable here and secure in her feeling that Mark was happy having her around, she couldn’t stand the thoughts that had intruded.
What if Mark decided he preferred his first wife, Trudie? What if he asked me to leave so he and Heath could spend the rest of their days with his first love, his true love, his only love, Trudie?
Dropping her knife to put her head in her hands. “I can’t lose Mark and Heath,” she said aloud to the empty kitchen. She prayed that God heard her words, as no one else did.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
On the first day of the year, three days after her last appearance, Trudie returned. It was relatively early, and the sun peeked out of the clouds that morning, making the chilly day a little less brisk. Mark pulled a heavy woolen jacket about him as he walked the outer fields, trying to determine what he would do with them if he couldn’t manage to get the seeds he wanted.
“Boss!” Billy shouted. Mark The young man raced toward him, waving frantically in the air. Fearing the worst, Mark jogged toward Billy.
“What’s the problem, Billy?” Mark asked, his eyes darting across the fields, searching for an emergency.
Billy panted and took a deep breath before responding. “No problem, Boss. Ya missus just asked me to come fetch ya, so I took off runnin’. She doesn’t ask for much, Mrs. Flint, and so I thought it best to get movin’.”
Mark nodded, understanding what Billy meant; Layla didn’t often ask for help, so if she had asked Billy to find Mark for her, there must be a good reason. “Thank you, Billy. I’ll get on up to the house. You head back to work,” Mark ordered.
“Got it, Boss,” Billy replied and took off at a mad dash back toward the stables. Mark watched the young man go, remembering when he still felt spry enough to sprint across the fields in such a manner. Mark frowned a little. Though he was still relatively young, so much had happened in his young life that he felt much older.
Rallying and urged his stiff legs to move quickly, he raced across the open fields. He veered toward the backyard and the garden, but Layla and Heath were not there. He skidded to a halt at the back door and stomped his boots to clear the dust from them.
“Layla,” he called out, doing his best to catch his breath simultaneously.
“In here, Mark,” Layla responded, and he guessed that she was in the sitting room. He furrowed his brow, trying to analyze her tone, but she had been too brief. He couldn’t determine whether she was upset, scared, or otherwise. When he got to the sitting room, he sucked in a breath. Layla was seated in her favorite blue chair with Heath bouncing happily on her knee. Having recuperated admirably, Emmett was sitting next to the fire in his usual spot, but in Mark’s chair, beside Layla, sat Trudie.
Trudie smiled up at Mark meekly, and the spots of pink appeared in her cheeks. Her pale hands fidgeted with a stray thread that hung from the sleeve of her winter-green dress, but she looked at him steadily.
“Layla, Heath, Emmett … Trudie,” Mark said politely, inclining his head toward them. He swept off his black hat and held it loosely in his right hand.
Layla stood and moved to Mark’s side.
