Cora clung onto her quilt with both hands. “It’s not always like David and Daniel. Sometimes…God allows people to get hurt or die.” Her voice sounded small in the dark.
How many men and friends had he lost in the war, Jeb the best among them? Men who’d never see home again. But that wasn’t what Cora needed to hear tonight. He raised up on his forearm. “You’re right. But I don’t believe he brought me to Texas to have one of us die. We have to trust He will protect us and work everything out for the best. That you…that we’re done with grieving.” If only he could engrave such faith onto his heart and never waver.
Cradling an arm beneath her head, she rolled to face him across the distance. “I don’t trust easily.”
I’ve noticed.“I understand.”
She whispered, “I admire your faith.”
He sniffed back a snort. His faith was riddled with holes. He’d prayed for the Lord’s healing. From his battlefield and Andersonville memories, from the nightmares, from the cravings for laudanum. Would he ever be the man he’d once been? Even now, the thirst for the medicine throbbed in the back of his mind. A half dose, even a few drops, would take the edge off the pain and settle his stomach.
And forever lose him the respect he’d fought so hard to gain.
“My faith is patched together.” He rubbed his thumb across the soft linen of the pillow. His eye throbbed, and so did his lip. His whole body ached, but none of that mattered. Cora had kissed him. “Your courage and determination are two qualities I admire about you. Your love for Charlie, and the way you came back out here to make a life for you and him.”
She sniffed. “Most of the folks in town would call me foolhardy.”
“No. It’s just that it’s a huge undertaking for two.” Dare he venture such a prospect? “You need a…partner.”
She pushed up on an elbow. “Temporarily. Until you get us on our feet. You…have a life back in Philadelphia.”
He blew out his cheeks. Entanglements, not a life. “Is that where you want me to go?” He fought to temper the words into an honest question, not an accusation. “Back to Pennsylvania?”
She bunched the quilt in her hand. “I don’t know.”
He should shut his mouth. But more words spilled forth. “Because that’s not what I want. I’m going to write the letter I should have written weeks ago. I’m going to break my betrothal to Olivia.” As if that were his only tie there, and not his promise to his father.
Her breath caught.
Rain pattered on the roof.
The quilt slipped from her shoulders. “I won’t allow you to sacrifice yourself for me and Charlie. If you’re saying this because of Wolf Heart, we’ll find another way. Charlie and I can look after ourselves after you help us get the ranch up and running. We’ll move into town if we have to.”
Give up on her dream? Was she afraid of burdening him, or just afraid of him, period? Maybe the kiss had been all gratitude, and she couldn’t wait for him to depart. But he couldn’t accept that. “It wouldn’t be a sacrifice. I have no intention of marrying a woman I don’t love.”
She bit her lip. “You’re talking about Olivia?”
“I was wrong to propose to her.”
She rubbed the quilt edge between her thumb and forefinger. “Why did you?”
Why did he? He ran his hand over his hair and exhaled. How had he gotten himself into talking about this? He could tell her it was none of her business. But that wasn’t true, not if he hoped to win her affection. “I thought I was in love with Olivia when we first courted. And I probably was.” That sure made him sound steadfast and faithful. His stomach clenched. “But when I returned from war in 1865, I wasn’t the same man. I acted as if everything was as it had been, in hopes that it would be again.I sought to fulfill expectations, but I was only going through the motions.” That and too many hours spent in each other’s arms. Too much laudanum soaking his brain and dulling his heart. “On the eve of our betrothal announcement, I realized I couldn’t do it. I had a promise to keep to Jeb, and if I failed at that, I wouldn’t forgive myself. Coming to Texas to keep that promise felt like the first real thing in my life since I was taken prisoner.”
Her brow furrowed. Tracing a line on the carpet with her finger, she cast her gaze to the floor. “Love is risky.”
“Yes.”
“And scary.”
His swallow stuck in his throat. “In what way?”
“My mother married for love.”
He ground his molars. A mistake. A pain shot from his injured jaw deep in his skull. He’d had enough of being compared to her father. He strove for a neutral tone, but his words came out with a bite. “Did you ever ask your mother if she had it to do over again what she would have done?”
She flinched.
He should shut his mouth, but he pushed up to his feet. “Are you going to give up on love? The real question isn’t what your mother did or didn’t do. It’s what you are going to do. Are you going to allow your father to rule your life beyond the grave?”
