She let out a shaky breath. She never allowed herself to relive this. Why was she doing so now? It seemed important somehow. Maybe she could uncover a clue about Father’s real nature. Something she should have seen long ago.
“I sat on the front step waiting for him all day. I’d worked it out in my mind that he would probably come around ten o’clock. That would give him enough time to ride to us, and we’d have most of the day to load the wagon and travel to wherever his new house was. I could tell Mama was worried, but I thought it was just concern about whether she’d like our new home. I kept telling her it would be wonderful. That she’d see.” What a naive child she’d been. Mama had known. Why hadn’t she told her the truth?
A single tear slipped through her defenses, but she ignored it and pushed on. “He never came. I sat on the stoop all day long. Mama kept encouraging me to come away. To go check on the horses or walk down to the creek with her. I wouldn’t budge, though, and finally she sat with me. We ate the noon meal there. Then she brought cards, and we played Pinochle and Tuppen. She made my favorite food, berry pancakes, and we ate until we couldn’t take another bite. When dark settled, she coaxed me into leaving the doorway.” Another tear slipped past. “I think that was the first time I let myself see that he wasn’t just busy. He really didn’t care about us. Not enough.”
She had to sniff but kept the sound quiet.
By the steady rise and fall of Sampson’s chest, he was still asleep.
“He proved that over and over through the years. When I was twelve, I got really sick. A fever and casting up accounts. I can’t remember what else, just that I thought I was dying. When I opened my eyes, sometimes my vision went dark or fuzzy. Mama was doing everything she could for me, but nothing helped. I begged her to go find Father. To send him for a doctor. I feared…” Her voice broke as emotion swarmed her chest. She sucked in breath after breath.
She had to push on. Had to get this out. “I feared dying and leaving her alone there. I guess, somehow, I knew how awful it would be. To live there in the valley with no one. It’s…it’s like being the last person on earth. The quiet will make you go mad.” Her chest heaved, and she felt as if she couldn’t get enough air.
She sucked in breath after breath. She had to stop these memories. Couldn’t let herself drown in the grief of missing Mama.
This was about Father. About Sampson.
As she worked to slow her inhales, she forced her mind back to the present. “I never knew Father could be so cruel. I’d never have let him force you into marrying me. I’d never have put you in danger.”
But now that she knew the truth, what could she do about it? Would Father come after her here? Would he take his anger out on Sampson again? Or on someone else in the family? These people were so kind. All of them, welcoming her—a stranger—into their midst.
She couldn’t let them be hurt. Another glance at Sampson sent a shiver through her. So much damage. So much pain. She couldn’t risk anything more.
She and Ruby had to leave here. She had no other choice.
CHAPTER14
Sampson's body ached against the thin mattress as shadows lengthened across the bunkhouse walls. His head hurt less with his eyes closed, so he kept them shut. Grace had left the bunkhouse a while ago, but her strained voice echoed through his mind. He’d nodded off at one point. Then her desperate words had seeped into his awareness gradually, like rainwater finding cracks in a tin roof.
"…so sick…wouldn't let the doctor come."
Or something like that.
The story muddled in his mind, but the pain, the desperation…the loneliness. Those had rung clearly in her voice. They'd seeped into his bones, cracking something deep inside him.
How much pain had this woman endured at the hands of her own father? Jedidiah might not have raised a hand to her the way he did to the men under his thumb, but he'd inflicted a different kind of damage, keeping her and her mother shut away from any comfort or kindness. And after her mother passed, he'd abandoned Grace to grieve alone in that remote house, cut off from anyone who might have offered solace.
And now, she blamed herself for his beating. The thought made his stomach churn.
Jedidiah only acted out of self-interest, and he seemed far more concerned with his lust for the riches and power the mines brought him than with his daughter's welfare. He wouldn't waste effort on punishing Sampson unless he felt a need to assert his authority.
Or to reprimand Sampson for some perceived slight.
Had Sampson questioned where Jedidiah was leading them that night? He knew better than to challenge the man directly. No, the pieces didn't fit. He'd have to untangle this mess later when his head didn’t throb so much.
For now, though, he needed to convince Grace that she wasn't to blame for her father's actions. And that she didn't need to leave the ranch. Shecouldn’tleave.
Unless she wanted to, of course.
He'd promised her the freedom to choose, after all. Perhaps he needed to honor that, to trust her judgment.
But what if her choice put her in danger?
A low growl of frustration rumbled in his throat, sending fresh shards of pain through his skull.
"Tired of your own company already?"
The unexpected voice made him crack open his good eye. Gil filled the doorway, Miles just behind him.
