“Amanda, please,” her mother whispered.
“No.” Mandie’s voice grew stronger with each word. “I won’t be silent anymore. I won’t let him twist this into some story about my grief or fragile feminine sensibilities. He violated me, and now he has the audacity to stand here and offer to marry me as if he were some noble savior.”
Enoch had never been prouder of anyone in his life than Mandie in that moment. She possessed a strength he could only dream of. And she made him want to be a man who deserved her. At the very least, he would lay down his life to protect her.
He turned back to Clayton. “You’d better mount that horse now and get off our property, or you’ll be escorted at gunpoint.”
Clayton’s face twisted, the mask of gentility finally dropping completely. “You think these mountain savages can protect you forever, Amanda? You’re carryingmychild.Myheir. That gives me rights?—”
“You have no rights here.” Mr. Sinclair’s voice boomed across the yard, silencing every other sound. Mandie’s father stepped forward, his weathered face carved from granite. “Get away from my daughter. Now.”
Gone was the confused, uncertain man of moments before. In his place stood someone Enoch recognized—a father whose child had been attacked.
The fury in Clayton’s eyes burned hot now, all pretense abandoned. “You’ll regret this, Theodore. All of you.” His gaze swept the assembled group with venomous promise. “That child is a Beaumont, and I’ll have what’s mine.”
“The only thing you’ll have is a bullet if you don’t get off our land.” Enoch’s hand moved toward his hip, though he wore no gun belt on this peaceful Sunday afternoon.
Clayton’s nostrils flared, but he was outnumbered and he knew it. With jerky movements, he jammed his hat back on his head and stalked toward his horse. “This isn’t over, Amanda. A man doesn’t forget what belongs to him.”
“Nothing here belongs to you.” Mandie’s voice rang with even more strength. “And it never will.”
Clayton swung into his saddle with far more violence than grace, wheeling his horse around to face them one last time. “We’ll see about that.” He spurred his mount and thundered outof the yard, leaving a cloud of dust and the echo of hoofbeats in his wake.
The silence that followed felt fragile, like glass that might shatter at the slightest touch.
CHAPTER 27
Enoch kept his eyes fixed on the dust cloud until it disappeared beyond the tree line, every muscle still coiled for action. Only when the last echo of hoofbeats faded did he allow himself to turn toward Mandie.
She stood frozen on the bottom step, her face pale as winter snow. The fierce strength that had carried her through the confrontation seemed to drain away all at once, leaving her swaying like a sapling in a strong wind.
“Mandie.” He moved toward her, but her mother reached her first.
“Oh, my darling girl.” Mrs. Sinclair’s voice broke as she gathered her daughter into her arms. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry we didn’t believe you immediately.”
Mr. Sinclair approached more slowly, his weathered hands trembling as he reached out to touch his daughter’s shoulder. “Amanda, forgive an old fool. I should have seen…should have known.” His voice cracked. “What kind of father brings his daughter’s attacker to her very door?”
“You didn’t know, Papa.” Mandie’s words came muffled against her mother’s shoulder. “How could you have known when I never told you?”
“Because it was my job to protect you.” The anguish in her father’s voice made Enoch’s chest tighten. “Instead, I failed you completely.”
Enoch watched the family reunion with a growing hollow ache in his chest. This was what Mandie needed—her parents’ love.
Their acceptance and protection. Not some emotionally guarded mountain man who couldn’t bring himself to tell her how he felt.
“We’ll take you home, darling. Away from all this wilderness and danger. You’ll be safe with us.” Mrs. Sinclair murmured the words as she stroked Mandie’s hair.
“No.” Mandie pulled back from her mother’s embrace, her voice firm despite the tears tracking down her cheeks. “I told you—I’m not leaving.”
Her father’s brow furrowed. “But, sweetheart, you can’t stay here. These men have been kind, but you need proper care. A woman in your condition?—”
“I have proper care.” Mandie’s gaze swept across his brothers before settling on Enoch. Something in her eyes made his breath catch. “I have people who believe me. Who protect me. Who…” She faltered, color rising in her cheeks.
“Who what, darling?” her mother asked gently.
Mandie straightened her shoulders, and when she spoke again, her voice carried a quiet certainty that sent Enoch’s heart hammering against his ribs.
“Who see me exactly as I am. Who I love.”
