Her throat ached with that too-familiar feeling.
As the youngest, Hannah had always been the chosen daughter in their family.
“She was special.” His voice was strained as he looked at her. “She took the time to really see a person. To understand there’s more than what you’d find on the surface. She always saw the good in people, even when it wasn’t there.”
A rueful smile tugged his lips. "When I was seven, I accidentally started a fire in our outhouse. I knocked over a lantern, and the whole thing just…poof… went up in flames. My brothers—even my pa—they ribbed me something fierce about it. But Lucy, she always stood up for me. Seemed to always seeme, not just the things I did or the ways I messed up."
The image Patience’s mind formed of that little seven-year-old made her want to reach out and pull him in. This man—so strong and capable—was still that boy, deep down. He needed someone to see through his tough exterior and understand the man inside.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I'm glad you had her."
"Me too." He sighed. "What about you? Did you have someone like that?"
She shook her head, not gazing into the dark forest but at him. "If I had, I might not have landedin the mess I did."
More than she intended to admit. She crossed her arms over her chest. She had no desire to talk about her past and her poor choices.
Yet, as she dared meet his eyes, the way he was looking at her—probably the same way his sister had looked at him—made her want to tell her story. Maybe he wouldn’t judge her for the things she’d done and the decisions she’d made. Maybe he’d understand why she’d done those things. Maybe he’d at least try.
She took a breath for courage. "My father always saw fault in me. It was…hard to grow up knowing everything I did would be berated or criticized. My sister could do no wrong. As soon as I could get away, I did.
“I was barely old enough to marry, but I met a man who swept me off my feet. A gambler. My family disapproved, of course, especially my father. No matter who I’d chosen—or who’d chosen me, Papa would’ve disapproved.” Any man who wanted Patience must be flawed. But she didn’t say that aloud. “He told me I could never make a marriage with Michael work."
Jonah’s expression so warm and earnest, giving her the strength to go on.
"Of course, Papa’s lack of faith in us—in me—only made me more determined to prove him wrong. I married Michael, much to my family's dismay, and at first, things were wonderful. He was charming and attentive, treating me like I was the only woman in the world. We lived on riverboats, where the gambling was good every single night. I learned his tricks. He taught me to shoot…really well.” Those had been good days, back when she’d still believed in marriage. In them. “I thought if I could just be a part of his world, support him in what he did, it would be enough to make our marriage strong."
She breathed out the tension in her chest. "It didn’t. The gambling led to his downfall in the end. He was playing a game one night when another man accused him of cheating. The man…he shot Michael right there. Then he turned on me, said I'd better pay up all the money Michael had supposedly stolen from him the night before."
A shudder slid down her spine at the memory. The glint of the gun in the lamplight. The acrid scent of gunpowder and blood. The rage and accusation in the man's eyes.
"If not for the barkeep, who tackled the killer, I’d be dead. I ran. Thank God, we were at port. But I’d been around that life long enough to know that the guy, even if there were a lawman around to arrest him, would probably be released within a couple of hours." Her throat ached, but she forced out the words. " I found a place to hide, then took the first opportunity to head west, to get as far from that murderer as possible. Just in case he was serious about making me pay that debt."
Jonah studied her. “Why west? Why didn’t you go home?”
She raised her brows. “And prove my father right?” But she sighed. “Honestly, I probably would’ve, except I was afraid he’d find me. I figured he’d be less likely to follow me into the wilds of Montana than back to Boston.”
Jonah took her hand, his calloused fingers warm and strong around hers. "Is that why you were so suspicious of me when we first met?"
She nodded, blinking back the tears that had welled up. "I thought you might be working for him. I'm sorry I doubted you."
He squeezed her hand. "No reason to apologize. You were protecting yourself the only way you knew how. I understand that."
She searched his face, seeing the truth of his words etched there. He did understand. More, she thought, than anyone else ever had. He knew what it was to be judged for the surface of things, for the mistakes and missteps. He knew what it was to need someone to look deeper, to see the true heart beneath.
Just as Lucy had done for him, he now did for her. Offering her the gift of being seen.Of being known.
It was almost too much to take in. She had to look away, deep into the woods, drawing in a shaky breath.
"You know you're safe here, Patsy. Right? We won't let anyone hurt you, no matter who comes."
Safe. The word felt foreign, unfamiliar. When was the last time she had truly felt safe? She couldn't remember.
But as she turned to meet his gaze, the determination there wrapped around her like a warm blanket. Maybe, just maybe…he was right.
CHAPTER 7
The afternoon sun filtered through the cabin windows as Patience sat in a chair by the fire cutting apples for after-dinner pies. Beside her, Anna was still and silent in a small armchair, her small hands clasped tightly in her lap. In one of the bed chambers, Naomi was putting her one-year-old daughter, Mary Ellen, down for a nap. This wasn’t her home, she’d brought Anna and the little one over that morning so Patience could have plenty of time with Anna. This was her first full day at the ranch, and she wanted every moment she could with her niece.
