“The man is smart in choosing you,” Aunt Tia remarked, taking a sip of tea. “What girl, in her right mind, would willingly apply to mother children and be a wife in a godforsaken land? He admires that and respects you.”
Josie huffed, rolling her eyes. “He’s crazy then. I’m not going.” Josie rose from the desk and peered through the window crack.
“You don’t walk away from me, Josephine Eleanor! You may be a grown, widowed woman, but I am still your great aunt.”
Josie folded her arms “It’s been two months, Aunt Tia. Police aren’t looking for me. I’m cleared.” That was a big lie. Just one glimpse at her, and Marcus’s connections would take her down in an instant, escorting her to the gallows without mercy.
Aunt Tia stayed silent. Josie shifted her gaze, seeing the woman looking down at her teacup, her fingers nervously tracing the rim.
“Aunt Tia? What is it?”
Aunt Tia rubbed her forehead. “Mammy covered for you, saying you were with cousins in Wilmington, but there’s only a matter of time before the truth gets out. You must go. It’s too dangerous.”
Josie pressed her hand against her abdomen. Aunt Tia was right. She only had so much time, and it wasn’t just her life she should be concerned about.
“What about the baby?” Josie squeaked, her breaths coming in rapid gasps. “What man would want to take on another man’s child?”
“You won’t tell him.”
Josie’s eyes widened. “What? I can’t do that. There’s only so much time until I’m showing. I’mthreemonths along.”
Aunt Tia patted the desk chair beside her. “Sit down, child.”
Josie obeyed and settled beside her aunt. Aunt Tia looked her in the eyes with a seriousness that cut through Josie’s inner turmoil. “I am going to give you a piece of advice that your mama never gave you. Men don’t believe women, nor do they trust them. You have no voice and no power.”
Josie peered down at her lap. If anyone knew that pain personally, it was her. It didn’t matter that her plantation home doubled Marcus’s shareholdings; she was no more than his wife—no voice, no control. The wealth meant nothing when it was her freedom that had been stripped away, her choices discarded like worthless scraps.
Aunt Tia’s eyes saddened. “What man is going to believe a woman who is so desperate to go west and marry a stranger with four children? You may be a widow, but he won’t believe it. Not one bit. You’re too young and attractive.”
Josie bit the inside of her cheek. She believed her aunt. How could this Travis trust her when she didn’t trust him? This marriage would be her only chance, but what could she do with the baby? How could she trust Travis to father a child that wasn’t his? He was too honest in his letter, enough to send his life savings. What Josie counted would take years for a wheat farmer to save. How could she show up and deceive him?
The words in that shaky penmanship now echoed in her ears, as though it were mocking her conscience.I wanted to be honest with you as you have with me.Josie clenched her teeth. He trusted her.
“So . . . What do I do about the baby?”
“You make him think it’s his,” Aunt Tia explained before taking a sip of tea.
“What?” Josie’s chest pinched. “Surely you’re not suggesting . . .”
Aunt Tia nodded, retrieving the sugar pot from the tea tray. “Yes, I am.”
Josie clung to the desktop as her stomach convulsed. She pushed her tea away and turned her head towards the peeling gray wallpaper. Bile rose in her throat again. She sucked in a breath, then exhaled slowly, her hands pressing against her unsettled belly.
“But the baby will be early . . . Earlier because it will take a while before my acceptance letter reaches him, maybe longer.”
Aunt Tia stirred her tea. “You won’t be writing. You’ll send him a wire and get on that train first thing tomorrow morning.”
So soon. Josie closed her eyes tight, fighting the urge to vomit. She’d be a wife again. She had only just tasted freedom, andalready she’d be tied down once more. She couldn’t go through with it; the mere idea made her heart race with fear and dread.
She wouldn’t.
She couldn’t.
Josie hugged herself, trying to catch her breath. “I can’t . . . I can’t . . .”
Aunt Tia placed her hand over Josie’s. “You must. This isn’t the ideal picture I had for you—marrying an uneducated farmer—but this is the only way.”
Josie pressed her lips together. After a few moments, she nodded. “I understand.”
