Drawing in a breath, Baxter considered what to say. It was difficult to sort through his thoughts when they rang with the disparaging words his children had lobbed at Hettie with little thought or care. Or rather, with cold calculation and a desire to cause harm.
“No ‘say what you will,’” said Hettie with a frown. “Do you believe I can bear to hear them disparage you any more than you can listen to them speak ill of me?”
How he longed to show her how much those words meant to him, but this was neither the time nor place for such sentiments. Instead, he contented himself with saying as much as he could with his eyes as he held fast to her hand and her gaze. Whether or not he deserved Hettie was ridiculous to consider, for he knew he didn’t deserve her. Nor could he ever hope to be worthy of her.
And knowing that, he wasn’t going to let her go. Not ever.
“This is not about money or position or loneliness,” said Baxter. “I love her.”
Chapter 26
Afew little words, but it was as though he’d fired a pistol into their ranks, for the three immediately erupted once more, speaking over one another, and though their words were difficult to separate one from the other, their meaning was clear enough from the anger etched in their faces.
“You cannot be serious! You hardly know the woman—” began Stanley.
“I’ve known her as long as you knew Gwen before you married,” replied Baxter in a steady tone.
Though his words were swallowed up in the agitation of the moment, he refused to raise his voice. Matching their anger with his own would only make things worse, and as long as Hettie remained fixed to his side, clinging to his hand, it was easy enough to hold onto his patience. If anything, living with Dolores had taught him to keep calm.
Charity’s chastisements rang in his thoughts, helping him to see history repeating itself. It was said that old habits die hard, and never was that clearer than at present. It was as though his wife had been resurrected from the grave, for her spirit lived on in his children; they raged, and Baxter’s instincts told him to relent.
In the other room, little Biddie wailed, breaking through their thoughts. Stanley calmed first, straightening his jacket as he stared at the floor, though Matthias and Camilla’s glares burned holes through Baxter.
Once he was ready, Stanley turned to face him once more, and standing tall, he held his father’s gaze. “We are done with this foolishness. That woman must go.”
A firm “no” rang in his thoughts, and though Baxter wished to speak it, he took a moment to consider the situation. Not Hettie—for she was the only thing of which he was certain—but his children and how to proceed.
If they were truly concerned about Hettie, that would be a simple solution. A little time, and they would acclimate to the idea and warm to her. They couldn’t help but be won over by her. However, their objections didn’t concern her, even if their anger was directed at her. The truth was that they didn’t want him to marry anyone, and they certainly didn’t wish for him to find happiness with another. Baxter needed to remain the heartbroken widower who had lost their dear mother.
Dolores Baxter had been a saint in their eyes, and even if Baxter could convince them otherwise, he didn’t wish to do so. No good could come from vilifying a beloved parent.
How did one contend with such stubbornness? Baxter knew the answer, for years of marriage to Dolores had taught him that lesson thoroughly. Sometimes a pyrrhic victory was the only one to be had.
“I know how much of a shock this is to you all, and for that, I am sorry,” he said as evenly and clearly as he could. “But for some inexplicable reason, this divine creature cares for me, and I will not give her up. I can only hope and pray that she will allow me the honor of being her husband.”
The silence continued, though it was like the calm before the storm. Before a word was uttered, Baxter knew what was coming, and only the feel of Hettie’s hand in his kept his heart from shattering irrevocably.
Stanley stepped forward, his gaze hard as he said, “If you marry her, I will never speak to you again. You will be dead to me and my family. She will never be a Baxter, and we will never acknowledge her.”
Baxter’s throat tightened, but though he tried to think of some way to alter their current course, there were only two ways forward—surrender or hold firm—and he’d spent too much of his life doing the former. Whether or not that had been the proper course in his marriage, Baxter couldn’t follow it now.
“I am sorry for that. I truly am,” he managed to say, though his words trembled. “You are my children, and I would give anything to see you happy, but giving in to this demand will not do it—”
“You would choosethis womanover your children?” asked Matthias, his brows pulled low.
“It is you who are making the ultimatums, not I. If your objections were reasonable, I would gladly do whatever I can to appease them.” Baxter’s gaze lingered on each of them, and though there was a hint of softening in Stanley’s expression, Matthias and Camilla stood united in their disgust. “Whom I marry is my choice—one that I will live with for the rest of my life—and you do not have the right to make it for me. And I choose Hettie.”
The room seemed to shrink as the air thickened with the weight of his children’s emotions. Frozen in place, they stared at him as though looking for some weakness in his armor before readying their attack. And then the first bullet cracked through the air as Matthias shouted, drawing the others into the fray as words exploded like cannonballs.
But Baxter’s eyes found Hettie’s, her hand still held tight in his own. Her brows pinched together, her gaze simultaneously mourning, pleading, and questioning. Peering into those eyes, Baxter didn’t feel the frenetic energy swirling around them; calm settled into his heart, filling him with such certainty.
The subject of matrimony ought to be broached in a happier setting, but Baxter had all but declared his intentions, and there was no point in pretending otherwise. With raised brows, he silently asked her if she was willing.
Her own rose in surprise, and she mouthed the words, “Are you certain?”
“Yes.” There was no other answer to give, for Baxter felt it to his bones. He couldn’t imagine a happier life than spending every day of it at her side.
The world burned around them, but it was as though they were locked inside a little pocket, safely tucked away from the rest. With a bright smile, she nodded, and Baxter’s heart expanded until his ribs felt ready to burst.
