“Mother was the one to later tell me that he’d sold her to a slaughterhouse.”
“Blast.” Sterling wanted to release a string of curses to relieve the growing pressure in his chest. Instead, he stood to his feet and cracked his knuckles.
“Eventually Father apologized and promised me another horse of my own. But I never wanted another horse ever again.”
Sterling wished he’d known all of this when he’d been courting Violet. Maybe it would have helped him understand her better, helped him be more sensitive to her needs. As it was, he could only stand rigidly, wishing he could pound his fist into Mr. Berkley’s stomach.
“It’s a good thing your father isn’t here right now.” He couldn’t keep the contempt from his voice. “I’d be tempted to do him some damage.”
Violet’s lips curved into a ghost of a smile. “Thank you, Sterling. That’s sweet of you.”
What he wouldn’t give to see one of her full smiles, one that made her pretty lips curl up high and brought a glow to her eyes. When was the last time he’d seen her smile? The truth was, she hadn’t smiled a whole lot during those final few months leading up to the wedding. Maybe that should have alerted him that something wasn’t right, that she wasn’t happy.
But he’d been selfish, hadn’t he? He’d only been thinking about how happy being married to her would makehim. He hadn’t stopped to think about howshewas feeling about everything.
“My father isn’t all bad,” she continued. “Deep down he does care about me and Hyacinth. I think that’s what makes everything so much harder.”
“That doesn’t change my opinion of him.”
Her smile inched higher.
His breath hitched. She was so beautiful when she smiled. And she was already way too beautiful when she was serious.
The familiar hollow ache in his chest pulsed a slow rhythm but wasn’t as painful as it had been in the past when he’d thought about her and how much he’d loved her. Maybe thisreunion—as hard as it had been so far—was a good thing and a way to bring about a resolution to all that had happened.
In talking with her and understanding her better, perhaps he’d be able to make peace with what had happened. He still might not like that she’d run away and rejected him, but he could accept that the situation had been more complex than he’d realized. And he needed to bear some of the blame too.
At the very least, he could bury the bitterness that had festered over the past months, couldn’t he? Especially because it looked like they were going to be stuck together for a few days.
“Enough about my family.” She waved a dismissive hand, as if that could somehow make her heartache and embarrassment go away. “Tell me about yours. Hazel is married and having a baby. What about everyone else?”
Her question was timid, as if she wasn’t exactly sure how he would respond.
He lowered himself back to his bench. He would talk to her civilly, but that didn’t mean he intended to be her friend again. No, the talking was just a way to pass the time. That’s all it would be. Then when they returned to the ranch, they would go their separate ways and would never have to see each other again.
9
Violet’s gaze kept straying to Sterling even though she was trying hard not to let it.
From her spot at the table with her half-finished supper in front of her, she was also having a difficult time eating the meal Hyacinth had prepared—canned beans and pork with canned peaches.
Sterling had already finished, pushed back from the table, and had resumed his whittling. He was positioned so that she had a good view of his profile—his muscular shoulder, angular jaw, and his hard mouth.
With his knife in hand, he shaved away at the wood in front of him, methodically and patiently, the curling woodchips falling to the floor at his boots.
Hyacinth had risen and was washing the dishes as best she could with the warm water on the stove. Her back was stiff, and every time she turned around, she glared at Sterling as if she wished the floorboards would open up and swallow him.
Violet had already scolded Hyacinth several times over the course of the long day about being nicer to Sterling. After all, if not for his coming after them, they would have been in a deadly predicament.
As it was, they’d slept as well as could be the previous night and had awoken to a warm cabin, the stove burning steadily with the fuel Sterling had added all throughout the night. It wasobvious he’d rested very little, if at all, and at one point during the morning, Violet had encouraged him to get some sleep.
He’d finally flopped down on the opposite bunk bed without bothering to shed his boots and slumbered for a few hours. After waking up, he’d gone out to gather more wood, and in the process, he’d found some large pieces that he was now crafting into a sled. He hadn’t needed to tell her why. She already knew he intended to use it to pull her back to the ranch, which would likely be the only way she’d be able to travel.
The few times she’d hobbled around on her sprained ankle, the pain had been too intense to stand for long. Sterling had indicated that her foot could take a few weeks to heal enough for her to walk on it. If that was the case, it would be much longer before she could manage to ski.
Sterling had explained that with the fresh layer of a foot or more of snow, even skiing would be challenging. She guessed he could ski on it back to the ranch, that he was seasoned and experienced enough to do so. But he said he wanted to wait for some of it to melt before venturing out, probably so that he could pull the sled easier and also so that Hyacinth could manage her skis.
Whatever the case, Violet had resigned herself to a few days in the cabin with Sterling along with his silence and coldness. He’d surprised her earlier in the morning by listening without judgment to her explanation of her father’s gambling problem. In fact, he hadn’t thought less of her and had instead been angry at her father.
