“Sir, I must ask you to leave. You are trespassing,” the butler said calmly, pointing at the door.
General pushed against him, but the man was equal to his size and held him back with the help of the footmen.
“Not until I find my wife!” General screamed.
The three men pushed him back until he fell back on the floor. General sucked in a gulp of air as pain shot through his skull, just like when he first woke with this stupid injury. He winced,a low growl rumbling out of him. Josephine was really going to pay. General breathed fire, his anger boiling over and coursing through him like molten lava. He wanted to tear the men’s heads off for the offense against him. He had the right to be here. He had a right to take his wife home!
“Sir, if you don’t leave now, I will send for the police.”
General dusted his coat. He glared at them with sharp eyes, his head pounding more. “This won’t be the end of this. I’ll tear this place apart until I find my wife.”
General walked out of the house, but it wasn’t over. It would be nightfall soon, and he would strike again. A dull ringing echoed in his ear, making him groan. He had a mission, but first, he’d stop at a saloon. He needed a drink.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Willow Grove, Montana; Christmas Day 1872
Afterafewhoursof delightful sleep, Josie awoke to the soft sound of a low, melodic voice. She blinked her eyes open, adjusting to the sight of Travis seated in the rocking chair, baby Nathan cradled in his arms. The baby slept peacefully, without a sound, as Travis gently rocked back and forth, a soft smile on his face. His hand moved rhythmically, rubbing the baby’s back while he sang. Josie had never heard Travis sing before; in church, his lips barely moved.
His singing stirred memories of her brother, Zane, who used to entertain her and Susannah with his guitar during the long winter months. Cooped up in the parlor for hours, unable to go for walks or into town, his music had been a refuge.
Josie stayed perfectly still, not wanting to disturb Travis. She closed her eyes again, letting out a soft, contented sigh. He sang the melody again, the second time as soothing as the first. She peeked through her lashes, unable to look away. Travis’s smile grew, revealing his teeth as he lightly rubbed the baby’s head. Sleep had been hard to adjust to before the birth, even after, with the constant feedings and the exhaustion that followed. Yet at this moment, Josie had no desire to retreat back into her subconscious.
Travis was nothing like the men Aunt Tia had warned her about. If anything, Josie was more like those men with her dishonesty. Aunt Tia’s advice, which Josie had lived by these past few months, had gradually faded, replaced by a deep sense of trust. Travis proved himself to be a man of mercy and care. Since Nathan’s birth, for the first time in her life, Josie felt truly safe and secure. No more nightmares, no more doubts. What lay before her now was her future with this family. This peace wasn’t like the fragile calm she’d known before the war; it was real, born from faith and love. All the battles within her had ended, and at last, she had a truce.
Travis never wronged her. He never raised a hand to her, never abused her like Marcus had. He was everything Marcus wasn’t. Even when she felt she deserved punishment, all Travis gave her was another chance. No harm would come to Nathan or her now. If the law ever took her away, she could find peace in knowing Nathan would be safe and cared for under Travis’s protection. But she couldn’t let the fear of that possibility rob her of the happiness she longed for. She deserved this joy, this security. It was time to let herself fully embrace it, without the haunting shadow of the past.
“Beautiful,” Josie said, pushing herself against the headboard.
Travis’s cheeks flushed as he looked up. Josie had yet to see a man act so gentle. Travis, who once seemed tough and serious,now cradled a babe in his arms with a tenderness she never expected.
“I didn’t know you were awake,” Travis whispered.
“I’ve never heard you sing before. You should sing a special for Sunday.”
Travis chuckled as he stood. “Now, that would be something special.” He leaned over Josie, passing Nathan into her arms.
Josie cradled him to her chest and kissed his warm cheek. She glanced up at Travis. “Where did you learn the song?”
Travis settled on the bed, folding his hands in his lap. “My mother sang it to me every night when I was little. I haven’t sung it in years . . . not even to my own children.”
A comfortable silence settled between them as Josie gazed down at her child. He was so deeply asleep that their quiet whispers did nothing to disturb him.
“I don’t know how to thank you, Travis. I know about what you did to get Aunt Polly. I might have been delirious, but after I put the pieces together, I don’t know what to say.” Her throat clenched, barely managing to finish the sentence. “You didn’t have to risk your life for me.”
“I wanted to,” Travis said, leaning forward, touching her hand that cradled Nathan’s head. His thumb brushed against her skin, sending a delightful shiver through her. “You are my wife, and I’m responsible for your safety.” Travis paused, looking towards the window. “While I was out there, I was frightened I wouldn’t make it home to you and the children. Before all hope was lost and the storm worsened, I prayed. I vowed to God I’d claim your child as my flesh and blood and never think twice. I want you to know that I mean it.”
Travis looked down at sleeping Nathan bundled in a quilt, a smile crossing his face. “I’ve thought of him as mine since I held him in my arms. Nathan Travis Blythe is my son and nothing less.”
Josie pressed her lips together, trying to hold back the tears brimming in her eyes. Nonetheless, they fell anyway. Her cheeks heated, realizing how many times she cried in front of Travis during their marriage. With Marcus, she had never been allowed to cry—tears made her weak in his eyes. She had held those tears in for seven long years, and now that she was free, they wouldn’t stop. She might appear pathetic, but Travis didn’t seem to mind. His grip tightened around her hand, not with any trace of violence, but with compassion.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be such a baby,” Josie whispered.
Travis grazed his thumb under her eye, gently wiping away each tear as it fell. Then, with his other hand, he did the same for her other eye. “It’s all right to cry, Jo,” he whispered, his voice soft and reassuring. “I cry too, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Marcus’s face flashed in her mind, and Josie winced, instinctively holding Nathan tighter against her chest. “My husband . . . my late husband . . . never let me cry. He beat the emotions out of me until there was nothing left. There have only been a handful of times I cried in the past seven years. He . . . He said I was too weak . . . I was too weak to bear his children.”
Travis lifted Josie’s chin. “You are not a weak woman. You’re anything but that. Who else would survive a trip here, take care of four children, work as hard as a man during the harvest, and deliver a baby in the middle of a blizzard? That’s you, Jo. You are a precious woman, and I vow never to take you for granted.”
