Heart of Stone (16 page)

“You look peaked, Laura. Are you all right?”

“Of course not. One word from you and I’ll be ruined in this town.”

He put his thumb and forefinger beneath her chin. She turned her head, brushing him off.

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” He put on his hat, gave a jaunty salute, and headed down the walk.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

For how long?
she wondered.
For how long?

She caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to discover Jesse Langley standing off to one side of the porch, paint brush in hand.

“Does the good reverend know you’re keeping secrets?” He set the paint brush down and pulled a rag out of the back of his waistband to wipe his hands.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Keeping secrets? It seems you and the preacher make a good pair.”

“I’ve never lied to you.”

Jesse walked around to the front of the veranda but didn’t come up the stairs. He glanced down the street.

“You trust that man to keep a secret?”

“I don’t have a choice,” she said softly. Exhausted by it all, she was anxious to go inside, to shut herself up alone in her study. How much had Jesse heard?

What about you?
she wondered.
Can I trust you?

O
n Sunday morning, Brand stood behind the lectern. A quarter of his congregation was missing and those who were there looked uncertain.

The people he’d been closest to since coming to Glory had shown up—rancher Joe Ellenberg, his wife, Rebekah, and their brood; Joe’s mother, Hattie; Hank and Amelia Larson; the Cutters; and more. They filled the front pews, lending him strength and reaffirmation of their faith in him.

Charity and the children were in the first pew. Sam and Janie were more somber than he’d ever seen them. They were aware that Jesse’s appearance had set off this upheaval in their lives, but he was at a loss as to how to explain. Nor did Brand know how to spare them any concern.

He kept his sermon short and to the point, speaking as much to himself as the souls gathered to hear him. He told them what the Lord told Jacob—to forget the past. Only by turning their lives over to God would He lift them up.

Brand made no mention of Jesse’s appearance. It was impossible not to feel responsible for the members who had chosen to stay away. Because of him they were not taking part in the morning’s service.

As he spoke, his gaze continually went to the front door.
Though Laura wasn’t among those who had come to support him, he hadn’t lost hope of seeing her. He had avoided going to see her all week, stayed away because he didn’t want the gossip surrounding him to taint her standing in town. He avoided her place because of Jesse too.

Everyone knew that his son was still working at the boardinghouse. Brand feared another confrontation might cause Jesse to leave town, destroying any hope of ever healing their past.

By the time the service ended, Laura still had not appeared. As Brand stood on the church steps thanking all those who had attended, bidding them good-bye, he wished he could see her again.

Though the Larsons and the Ellenbergs invited his family to dinner, he had declined their invitations. Charity had put her all into making stew and it was simmering on the stove. As the four of them walked down the street together, Brand couldn’t help but notice that instead of running ahead and taunting each other, Sam and Janie stayed somberly beside him and Charity.

“Papa, when are we going to go see Mrs. Foster and Jesse again?” Janie wanted to know.

“Maybe we should invite them to supper.” Sam scuffed his feet as he walked along the dusty street. “Do we have enough stew, Aunt Charity?”

“There’s always enough, but today might not be the best day. I’m sure by now they have other plans,” she said.

“That’s a very charitable notion, though,” Brand said.

“If he’s our brother, how come Jesse lives at Mrs. Foster’s and not our house?”

Brand looked up at the cloudless sky. He had resorted to silencing Sam by telling him that he would understand when he was older.

Janie practiced skipping. “Mrs. Foster has the prettiest house. And the best cookies. You should see, Aunt Charity. I just love the way she wears her hair, don’t you?”

“She’s a fine lady,” Charity agreed.

Too fine for the likes of me.
Brand tried not to let his spirits sink.

“Don’t you think she’s just about the most beautiful person in the whole world, Papa?” Janie bobbed along beside him, looking just like her mother.

What would Jane think of me now?
he wondered.

Jane had loved him. He was certain she would have understood that Jesse had been conceived when Brand was a different man. A lifetime ago.

But what of Laura? The last time he saw her, he had held her close and she had eased his burdened heart with her sweet embrace. Not seeing her was taking a toll on him. There was no way of knowing what Jesse had told her. No way of knowing if her opinion of him had changed.

L
aura took in the view of the rolling Texas plain as she rode alongside Amelia in an old covered buggy that once belonged to Amelia’s father. Dr. Ezra Hawthorne had made a habit of visiting ranches and homesteads around Glory, and Amelia, though she wasn’t a certified doctor, kept up the practice.

In the past she had turned down Amelia’s invitations to accompany her, but today Laura welcomed the chance to escape, especially since they would be paying a call on the Ellenberg family at the Rocking e Ranch.

She hoped the outing might take her mind off of the fact that she hadn’t seen Brand for over two weeks. Nor did she want to think about when Collier Holloway would show up again.

So far he’d kept his word and not told anyone about their former association. She’d run into him one day on her way past the livery stable. He had made a great show of introducing himself to her, as if she’d never seen him before in her life.

The Ellenbergs proved to be as concerned about Brand’s future as Amelia. Their conversation centered on the closed-mindedness Brand might be up against.

On the way back to town, she and Amelia rode in silence. Laura stared out across the wide-open plain, marveling at the stark landscape. The robin’s-egg-blue sky seemed to go on forever.

After awhile, Amelia said, “I can’t believe it’s been over two weeks since Jesse Langley showed up.” She shook her head. “It’s too bad we can’t turn back the clock.”

Lost in thought, Laura failed to comment. Amelia flicked the reins over the horse’s rump and it picked up the pace.

“I’m surprised he’s still around,” Amelia said.

Laura nodded in agreement. “No more than I. He keeps to himself and does his job. I’d hoped Jesse would open up. That he’d at least try to know Brand a bit better by now, but he’s made no attempt to see him at all.”

Laura reached for the side of the buggy and held on as they approached a pockmarked portion of the dirt road. She admired the way Amelia handled the rig.

“Have you seen Brand lately?” Amelia asked.

Laura studied the leather traces as they slapped against the horse’s backside.

“No, not lately.”

Not for eighteen days, to be exact. Eighteen days during which he’d never been far from her mind.

“He needs to see you, Laura.”

“I don’t—” Laura tried to imagine the shock on Amelia’s face if her friend knew exactly how much she wanted to see Brand and how much she missed him.

“He needs you now more than ever.” Amelia sounded as if she was losing patience. “He needs your support. He’s hurting, Laura. If you care for him at all, let him know it. Tell him that you’re behind him.”

Laura wondered if Brand truly thought she had turned her back on him.

“He’s a good man. You know it, I know it. The whole town should know it. He doesn’t need me to remind him,” she said.

“All it takes is a few strong-minded people to believe that he’s not fit to lead. Bud Townsend is a rancher with both money and influence. He’s on the board and he’s speaking out against Brand.”

Laura was worried enough about Brand without Amelia pressing her and now that Collier was in town, she was on tenterhooks, terrified that he would expose her. She took a deep breath. Somehow she had to convince Amelia that she was the last person Brand needed to stand up for him.

“Surely you and Hank have just as much influence as Townsend,” she said. “And what about the Ellenbergs? Aren’t there others doing all they can to show their support? Why doesn’t Hank write an editorial?” Laura let go of the buggy and braided her fingers together in her lap.

“He’s planning to. We’re doing all we can.” Amelia’s patience was definitely slipping. Laura heard it in her tone. “You’re well respected in the community. We could definitely use your help.”

Amelia paused, looking thoughtful. “Has Jesse turned you against Brand?”

“No, he doesn’t talk about his father. He doesn’t talk much at all.”

Laura’s insides were churning. She wanted nothing more than to stand by Brand, to support him in every way, but the only way she could really help was to keep her distance.

“Are you afraid if you side with Brand, it might hurt your business?”

“Of course not! Amelia, please, stop. I’d certainly back him if I thought it would help, but trust me when I say I’m the last person on earth Brand needs on his side right now.”

Amelia wasn’t about to back down.

“I don’t understand why you’re so convinced you two aren’t suited. It seems—”

“There
is
no two of us. There never will be.” Suddenly, without warning, Laura blurted, “Amelia, before I moved to Glory, I was a prostitute.”

She watched as a myriad expressions played across Amelia’s face.
What have I done?
A feeling of dread held Laura in its grip. She had a sudden memory, long buried, of a worn kite made of string
and scraps of paper. Her papa had made it for her and Megan. The kite was flying high in the Irish sky over the green hill where their whitewashed cottage sat with its view of the sea.

Suddenly, the string broke and the kite sailed higher and higher until it spun and twisted and fell to the ground, where it crashed and was broken beyond repair.

She had the same feeling of loss now that she had then. Surely her bond with Amelia was as shattered as that flimsy paper kite.

The words had left a poisonous taste in Laura’s mouth. She turned to Amelia and saw her staring straight ahead, her face as pale as chalk. Without warning, Amelia pulled on the reins and stopped the buggy.

When she turned to Laura, her eyes were clouded with shock and disbelief.

Laura had had no intention of ever exposing her secret. But the wall she’d built around her heart had simply crumbled.

This
, she told herself,
was what comes of letting yourself care.

She had no idea what to do or say. There was no way to call back the truth.

“Surely you can’t be serious,” Amelia whispered. “I don’t believe it.”

Laura looked away. “Unfortunately, I am dead serious.”

“But…you’re a widow.”

“No. I’m not. I have never been married. Nor will I ever be.” Laura clenched her hands together in her lap. “What you see, the woman you think I am, is a façade. There’s nothing respectable about me. I was a prostitute for most of my life, and until Brand took it into his head to court me, I’ve been able to keep my feelings locked inside where they belong.”

“So you do care for him.”

“And now you know why that’s impossible. You know why I shouldn’t be anywhere near Brand and why I won’t be showing up at the church to stand up for him. It’s not because of what he’s
done, it’s because eventually I will end up doing him far more harm than good when and if the truth comes out.”

She watched her friend struggle with the truth, trying to come to terms with it.

“Please, take me home, will you?” Laura was afraid she was about to break into a million pieces and when she did she wanted to be in the privacy of her suite. She fully expected never to see Amelia again and the thought was almost too much to bear.

“How did you—” Amelia took a breath and started over. “When did you become a…a—”

Laura spared her. “My uncle sold me to a brothel when I was eleven years old.”

“Oh, Laura,” Amelia’s voice broke. When she covered Laura’s hands with her own, it was Laura’s undoing.

“I could never be the right kind of wife for Brand and his children,” she whispered.

“What if no one ever finds out?” Amelia’s brow furrowed as she tried to reason it all out. “How could they?”

“I’ve always feared I would run into someone who knew me before. That happened very recently, but I managed to threaten him and he left without anyone being the wiser—or so I thought. But now he’s led a man named Collier Holloway to town. He was my business partner after the war. He advised and made investments for me. When I cashed out, I moved to Glory because it was such a remote town buried in the heart of Central Texas.”

She sighed. “But now Collier is not only in Glory, he bought the Silver Slipper and wants me to go into a partnership with him again.”

“No!”

“I’m afraid it’s just a matter of time before he exposes me for what I am.”

“Then
you
must bring the truth out into the open. That way you’ll no longer have to fear exposure. You can explain to everyone first—tell your story in your own words.”

“Oh, yes. And just look at what happened to Brand. He made a mistake nearly twenty years ago and is
still
being judged by it.”

“Not by everyone.”

“I wouldn’t stand a chance. I’d be run out of town.”

“Those who know you and have come to care about you would stand by you. Most of all, if you tell the truth, you would be free of the threat of exposure.”

Laura couldn’t imagine what freedom would feel like.

“Do they tar and feather people in Texas?” she wondered aloud.

Amelia tried to smile. “We haven’t had a good tar and feathering for years.”

“I can’t do it,” Laura admitted. “I’m not brave enough,” she whispered.

“You aren’t alone,” Amelia said.

“I won’t bring you and Hank down.”

“Hank and I can take care of ourselves. And you’re a strong woman, Laura. I always thought so and now I know so. You have the strength to tell Brand the truth and stand up to everyone in Glory.”

Amelia reached for her medical bag on the floor of the buggy and pulled out a lace-edged handkerchief. “Here,” she said, handing it to Laura.

It wasn’t until that moment that Laura realized tears were streaming down her cheeks. The bodice of her gown was dappled with tear stains.

“I never cry,” she said, dabbing at her eyes. “Never.”

She hadn’t cried since she was a child. Since…before.

She knew how to fight, scratch, argue, tease, tempt, and flirt. But she never let herself show weakness. Never let herself cry. Now she couldn’t seem to stop.

When will it be enough?
she wondered.
When will I have paid enough for my sins? How far do I have to run? How many times will I have to start over?

Was it really so much to ask, to be free of the past? To be happy? Were her dreams too far out of reach to ever be realized?

She mopped at her tears, took a deep shuddering breath. And then, angry at herself for such a blatant show of weakness, she turned to Amelia again.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve embarrassed you and myself.”

Amelia lifted the reins, threaded them through her fingers. “There’s no need to apologize. You just sit back and let me drive you home. We’re almost there.”

Laura wiped at her eyes, but the tears kept coming.

“Just remember one thing,” Amelia said before she signaled the horses to start again. “You are
not
that woman anymore. You’re Laura Foster.” Then Amelia looked Laura in the eyes and smiled. “But most of all, you’re my dearest friend.”