“No inheritance?”
None that she could have control of now, especially with the law pursuing her. “No.”
Aunt Polly folded her arms. “I understand why you wanted to come here, being a destitute widow, pregnant and alone. But it was still wrong. You should have told Travis the truth.”
“I know,” Josie whispered, gripping the quilt. “I tried, but . . . he told me about his wife and how she died. I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
Aunt Polly shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek. “Watching Sophie go through that nearly broke him. He couldn’t do anything but watch. Childbirth is supposed to be a beautiful thing, but it turned to horror quickly.”
Josie sniffed, her eyes burning. “I can see why . . . I can see why he just wants a mother for those poor dears. I was selfish, though. So selfish. I should have confessed, but . . . I was frightened.”
Aunt Polly placed her hand on Josie’s as her tears fell. “Why did you keep your marriage a secret? Travis would have understood.”
“Why would he believe a woman he barely knew?” Josie asked sharply, as though Aunt Tia was speaking through her. “Isn’t that exactly what an unmarried woman would claim—I’m awidow?”
“You don’t know Travis then,” Aunt Polly said calmly, pulling back her hand. “He sent you nearly all his savings to bring you here after your first letter. He trusted you. I know he would have understood. The man has a soft heart.”
Josie felt like a fool. She gained Travis’s trust by being honest about her experiences and returning his money, but now that trust was broken. She was no longer an honest woman in his eyes. He would no longer view her as the sweet Josie—an answer to prayer who longed for a family, not romance or wealth.
“You need to explain yourself to him.”
“I can’t,” Josie croaked, pulling her hair behind her ears. “I can’t face him.”
Aunt Polly rose from the bed. “Well, you can’t stay in here, locked away forever.” Aunt Polly shot her a friendly smile before walking out the door. “Think about it.”
Josie hugged her knees to her chest, bringing the quilt up to her chin.It wasn’t supposed to be like this.She needed to tell Travis everything. However, the reason why she couldn’t gohome would have to stay buried. He was better off knowing one secret, not the darkest one that would destroy everything they could build. She would shame Travis more than she already had, and being a murderess was beyond having a secret child.
Josie wrapped her shawl tightly around her cotton nightdress before stepping outside for fresh air. After hours of being cooped up in bed, she had indeed grown tired of being alone in that room. When she stepped out onto the porch, she jumped. There Travis was, sitting in his rocking chair, the moonlight reflecting on his stubbly face. She was tempted to bolt back inside, but as his eyes met hers, she knew she couldn’t leave him without the truth. She needed to face him before their distance became as wide as the ocean. Josie swallowed, trying to moisten her dry mouth.Dear God, please help me.
His gaze shifted to her midsection and locked back on her eyes with an intensity that made her heart race. “You seem to be in better health.”
Josie nodded while clinging hard to her shawl’s loose tassels. “I am.”
Travis looked down at his lap. His hands rested on the arms of the rocking chair, fingers gripping tightly as he rocked back and forth. The creaking of the wood seemed to echo in Josie’s ears, each sound quickening her pulse. Her legs wobbled beneath her, and she feared she’d collapse at any moment. But if she did, would Travis be there, ready to pick her up off the ground? To hold her close again like before, showing genuine tenderness and care?
“When were you planning to tell me about the baby?” His voice held no bitterness or anger; it was flat and almostmechanical, making it hard for Josie to decipher the emotions beneath.
She looked at her feet. “I don’t know.” She clutched her shawl tighter around her midsection. “But it’s right for me to explain now.”
She stepped closer to him, slow and careful. When she made it to the second rocker, she settled in, drawing in a deep breath. The words faltered in her throat. She couldn’t say anything to justify herself, but she owed him the truth. At least, the pieces that were worth saying—the pieces that would protect her child.
“My husband wasn’t a good man. He hurt and . . . humiliated me . . . more times than I could count.” She swallowed a burn at the back of her throat, fighting back her tears. “Before I went to live with my aunt, he passed away.” The half-truth nearly caused her to vomit. But she managed to continue her story. “This baby . . . was who I was thinking about during my actions, but I would never use my child to excuse my deceptive behavior. It is innocent in all of this.”
Josie looked up at Travis, who rubbed his forehead in silence. She didn’t know what else to say. What could redeem her in such a situation? She deserved to be cast aside, destitute in the dangerous world. The thought of being turned over to the authorities sent icy tingles skittering up her spine and across her skin. If Travis found out somehow, would he turn her in? Could she trust her own husband?
“I . . . I understand if you want me to go. I won’t insist on staying,” Josie croaked.
At that moment, Travis’s tender eyes met hers. Neither anger nor disappointment lingered in them as she imagined. “There will be no need for that.”
Travis rocked in his chair in a strict medium tempo while gazing ahead again. His fingers intertwined like a prayer position on his lap. “You are my wife, Josie, and knowing thetruth now, I don’t blame you. I am still disappointed you hid this from me, but I understand. My mother was a widow, as well as Aunt Polly.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I know they’d do the same if they had no other choice.”
Josie closed her eyes. Did she have another choice? She could have lived in Aunt Tia’s attic, alone, waiting for her aunt to pass and have someone else take control of the place. And running away? It was a miracle she wasn’t recognized on the train.
“It’s difficult raising a child alone, but I do wish you could have been honest,” Travis said softly.
Josie wiped a solo tear, streaming down her cheek. “I . . . I wanted to . . . believe me. I am beyond ashamed for my actions—”
“I understand, Josie,” Travis interrupted, leaning forward. His once-roving gaze rested on her. “And that is why I am going to take full responsibility for you and your child.”
