Читать книгу Brides of the West: Josie's Wedding Dress / Last Minute Bride / Her Ideal Husband - Pamela Nissen - Страница 12

Chapter Three

Josie walked into the house, closed the door and leaned against it. She needed to clear her head before she spoke to her mother, but the older woman was coming down the hall in measured steps. Winnie Bright had no trouble navigating her home of twenty-five years. She’d lost the ability to read and see distant mountains, but she could detect patterns of light. She described her vision as looking through fogged glass. She couldn’t identify faces, but she had sharp hearing and remarkable intuition.

“Josie, is that you?”

“It’s me, Mama.”

The older woman emerged from the hall into the front room. Red gingham curtains were tied back, giving the sun full access to the parlor. The rays caught the silver in her mother’s braided coronet, a sharp contrast to the auburn that matched Josie’s own hair. The women would have been the same height, but Mama had shrunk with age and had stooped shoulders. Her posture worried Josie, mostly because she knew her mother’s back hurt all the time.

The older woman walked to her rocking chair and sat. “What happened with Mr. Proffitt?”

“He said no, but it might not matter.”

“Why not?”

“I have a new plan.” Josie sat on the divan. This was her place, where she sewed and fretted. “I found someone to ride in the May Day Maze… Someone who can ride Smoke.”

Mama tilted her head. “That horse belonged to Ty Donner.”

“That’s right.”

“Are you telling me—”

“He’s back.” In a brusque tone, Josie told her mother about Mr. Proffitt denying them a loan, meeting Ty and the decision to ask him to ride in the race. She ended the story with the description of the fight with Obie and Gordie. “I’m stuck with him now,” she said, sounding disgusted. “I hope he can do the work of three men.”

“Working hard was never Ty’s weakness,” Mama replied. “As I recall, the boy worked too hard.”

“He’s not a boy anymore.” Josie tried to sound disinterested, but she’d noticed Ty’s new maturity, both physical and otherwise. She couldn’t help but mourn the marriage and children she’d been denied. Biting her lip, she recalled going with Ty on a picnic and how they talked about the future. She told him that she wanted to give him a son, and he’d kissed her.

I’d like that, Josie girl. But I want a daughter, too.

She’d been surprised. Really?

She’ll grow up to be like you, and I’ll be scaring off boys like me… Someday she’ll wear your wedding dress.

The dress…Josie wished she’d sold it. Instead she’d wrapped it in muslin and shoved it to the back of the top shelf of her wardrobe. She couldn’t think about the gown without feeling bitter, but neither had she been able to part with it. The ruined wedding had been a fulcrum in her life, the tipping point where hope turned to loss and her faith dissolved along with it. If she got rid of the dress, would she heal or would she stay bitter forever? She didn’t know.

Mama put her rocking chair in motion. “Prison changes a person. I imagine Ty’s done some maturing.”

“I suppose.”

The bowed wood creaked against the floor. “Even so, it has to hurt to see him.”

How did her mother do that? Even without clear vision, she saw past Josie’s nonchalance to the pulp of her heart. Josie had been angry with Ty for chasing after the Scudders, but mostly she felt unloved. Just one day for a wedding…that was all she had asked. But it had been too much. Ty set aside her needs for his own, and they’d both lost everything.

Josie stood and went to the window. A line of trees marked the creek where she and Ty had stolen kisses. Her fingers knotted on the wide sill. “I wish he’d never come back.”

Mama kept rocking. “You have to forgive him.”

“I can’t.”

“Forgiveness is a choice, Josie. No matter what you’re feeling, you can say the words and ask God to make them true.”

“It would be a lie.”

“Or a start,” Mama countered. “Sometimes the feeling comes after the talking.”

“Why should I even try?” She sounded childish, but she didn’t care. “He left me waiting at the church. It was humiliating!”

“None of us is perfect. We’ve all made mistakes, but God loves us anyway. Ty paid dearly for what he did.”

“So have I.”

Mama let out a sigh. “Where is he now?”

“With Smoke.”

“I hope you invited him to supper.”

“I’ll bring a plate to the barn. I don’t want him in the house.”

The older woman raised her brows. “Perhaps I do. He was Nate’s friend, Josie. He was like a son to me. I’ve missed him.”

If the three of them ate supper together, Josie would remember the day he went after the Scudders. She’d watch him put too much salt on his food, and she’d know that he cut his meat into tiny bites, a habit from growing up poor and wanting to make the food last. She couldn’t bear the thought of being with him, so she shook her head. “I can’t do it, Mama. I’ll bring him a plate, but that’s it.”

“I won’t argue, Josie. But I hope you’ll think about it.”

“There’s nothing to think about.” But there was…she could think about the dress, the embarrassment and the life she should have had. If she thought about anything else—Ty fighting for her honor, his determination to win the Maze—she’d be on the verge of caring for him again. She had too many worries to let old feelings rise to the surface. She couldn’t let anything interfere with saving the Bar JB.

She took a final glance at the trees, then stepped away from the window. “I’ll start supper.” She went to the kitchen, but she didn’t go alone. She felt her mother’s prayers following her, whispering the words she couldn’t abide… Forgive him.

* * *

Ty couldn’t stay in the bunkhouse without speaking to Mrs. Bright. She’d been like a mother to him, and he’d hurt her when he’d let down Josie. He needed to apologize to her, and he wanted to offer his condolences for Nate’s passing. Josie didn’t want to see him, but he had to return the basket she’d used to deliver his meal. When he finished eating, he cleaned the plates and utensils, put them in the basket and walked to the house. Instead of going through the back door as he would have done five years ago, he went to the front door and knocked.

“Who is it, please?” Mrs. Bright called.

Ty cracked open the door. “Mrs. Bright? It’s me, Ty Donner.”

“Ty! Come in!”

He set the basket by the door and walked into the parlor. Mrs. Bright was on her feet and holding her arms wide. “Get over here, young man! I want to hug you.”

For one stupid moment, he was twelve years old again, even younger, and he was following Nate into the house like he belonged. With four kids in the Bright family—Nate and the three girls—Ty had been a welcome ally to the Bright males. He’d also been Josie’s particular nemesis in games of tag and other family fun. That had changed at a church dance. He’d seen her in a rose-colored dress with her hair half up and half down, and he’d forgotten all about tag. He’d asked her to dance, and a year later he’d proposed on the porch he’d just crossed. A year after that, he’d broken her heart.

Ty had expected Mrs. Bright to be polite but distant. Instead she had tears in her eyes. A bit choked up himself, he hugged her hard, then stepped back. “I’m sorry about Mr. Bright and Nate.”

“Of course, you are.”

“And I’m sorry about what happened with Josie. I’d do anything to change that day.”

“I know you would.”

As she sat in the rocker, Ty dropped down on the divan. Judging by a nearby sewing basket, Josie still favored the spot by the window. It was here that she sewed the buttons on her wedding dress. He’d never seen it, but she’d described the pearls to him. Back then he’d felt both proud and desperate to provide for her. He felt the same way now, though the pride felt lonely and provision depended on Smoke and winning the Maze.

Mrs. Bright started to rock. “Josie’s taking a walk. She does that after supper, but she’ll be back soon.”

Ty remembered her walks. He used to go with her. “I brought back the supper dishes, but mostly I wanted to see you. Josie told me about your money woes. I’m sorry you’re struggling.”

“We had a hard winter.”

“The worst.” Ty had experienced it in prison, hemmed in by both walls and snow. “I want to help you by winning the Maze. Whatever Smoke and I win, it all goes to you and Josie.”

“Did she agree to that?”

“Not exactly.” He thought of sparring with her and smiled. “She thinks we’re splitting it, but I intend to give her everything.”

Her brow furrowed. “You don’t need to do that, Ty.”

“Yes, I do.”

She reached across the space between them. He saw her intention and gripped her hand. “I forgive you,” she said. “So does God.”

“Josie hasn’t. I ruined her life.”

“Hogwash!” She released his fingers and pushed off in the rocker with surprising force. “You didn’t ruin Josie’s life anymore than being blind ruined mine. Bad things happen. We carry on or we quit. Josie’s not a quitter, but she’s had trouble getting over the heartache, maybe because we’ve had so much of it. We lost you first, then Jeremiah and Nate…sometimes it’s just too much.”

“I understand.” He’d felt that way in prison.

“You came at the right time, Ty. If anyone can win the Maze, it’s you riding Smoke.”

“I hope so.” For Josie’s sake he had to win, but today’s ride had opened his eyes to a harsh fact. Five years was a long time. Ty was older, stronger and wiser. Smoke was older and slower. It would take some effort to get ready for the race, something he would have to do in between chores.

He could have sat with Mrs. Bright for another hour, but he didn’t want to irritate Josie so he stood. “I should be going.”

“You’re welcome to Nate’s room,” Mrs. Bright offered.

Nate had slept in a room on the first floor. Josie and her sisters had occupied the second floor, a space Ty hadn’t seen except a few days before the wedding when he’d lugged her cedar chest down the stairs and into his wagon. The chest had belonged to her maternal grandmother, who’d hauled it all the way from St. Louis. It had been stuffed with bed linens and things for her kitchen…things Ty had never seen. When he’d been convicted, Nate had hauled the chest back to the Bright ranch. Ty could only imagine what Josie experienced when she’d opened it.

All of a sudden, he felt caged. “I appreciate the offer, Mrs. Bright. But I’d rather stay in the bunkhouse.”

“Whatever you’d like, but come and see me again.” Her eyes looked glassier than usual. “An old woman gets lonely, you know.”

“I know. But I don’t want to step on Josie’s toes.”

“It’s my home, too. You’re invited for supper any time.”

“Thank you.” Ty bent and kissed her cheek. “Good night, Mrs. Bright.”

“Good night, Ty.”

He left through the front door, closed it and glanced at the porch swing. Instead of the vacant spot he expected, he saw Josie and froze. In the grayish light, her auburn hair stood out like a flame. Her skin had the luster of pearls, and her turquoise eyes matched the twilight sky. He couldn’t stop looking at her…all those years in prison, he’d tried to forget her. He thought he’d succeeded, but looking at her now, he knew the truth. This woman owned his heart lock, stock and barrel. He’d never stopped loving her and he never would.

To keep from hurting, he focused on the most ordinary of things. “Thanks for supper. You always were a good cook.”

“I enjoy it, even if it’s just for Mama.”

She sounded lonely in the mournful way of the wind. Ty knew that sound well. In prison he’d stand in the yard behind the fifteen-foot walls, not feeling the wind but hearing the hollow sound of it. No one could understand unless they’d stood in that spot. He understood Josie because they’d both sat on that swing. They’d both grieved for what might have been, but she didn’t want that kinship. Unable to help her, he walked away.

“Ty?”

He faced her. “Yes?”

“Can you really win the Maze?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all anyone can ask.”

He waited, hoping she’d say something else, but she turned her head and stared at the pinkish horizon. There was no romance in the sunset, no hope in the fading light, so he murmured, “Good night, Josie,” and walked alone to the bunkhouse.

He wouldn’t be sleeping behind bars tonight, but in a way he’d entered a prison of another kind, one that could only be unlocked by Josie’s forgiveness. Whether she knew it or not, she was trapped behind the same wall. The sweet girl he’d loved had turned into a hard woman. It troubled him greatly.

“Help her, Lord,” Ty said out loud. “Help us both.”

* * *

Josie stayed on the swing, watching Ty’s long stride as he walked away from the house. When she’d asked him about winning the race, she’d expected bravado and bragging. The old Ty would have been full of talk. The new one had a humility that confused her. She couldn’t trust boastfulness, but she admired honesty. As he neared the barn, he faded from her sight, changing from a man to a shadow and then to a memory. One memory led to another, until she recalled waiting for him at the church. When Nate delivered the news of the arrest, her mother had comforted her. Anne, the middle sister and Josie’s maid of honor, had explained to the guests. Scarlett, a junior bridesmaid, had looked stricken.

The next day Josie had visited Ty in jail. He’d insisted the trial would blow over. He’d shown no respect for how hurt she’d been, how the delay tainted what should have been a beautiful day. Two weeks later she’d watched guards load him into the black prison wagon. He’d stared at her through the bars, apologizing with his eyes and mouthing, “I love you, Josie. I’m so sorry… .”

She’d said nothing back. In that moment, her bitterness had taken root. It lived in her heart the way the dress stayed in her wardrobe—wrapped tight, sealed, unchanging. She didn’t want to be resentful, but she didn’t know how to stop the ugly feelings. Her mother had encouraged her to trust God through the sadness, but Josie didn’t have the will. She went to church because someone had to take her mother, but she didn’t listen to the sermons. Neither did she pray, though tonight she recalled the girl who’d loved God and Ty Donner with her whole heart.

Her throat ached with unspoken words…angry words that burst out with unexpected force. “God? Are You listening? I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to hate my life, and I don’t want to lose the ranch. Mama says I have to forgive Ty, but I can’t. It’s just too hard. He hurt me! He ruined everything! Why did You let it happen? Why?” With her eyes squeezed tight, she choked out, “Amen.”

The prayer brought no relief, no peace. She looked accusingly at the stars, then down to the bunkhouse. A light flared in a window, a sign Ty had arrived and lit a lamp. She thought of his honesty concerning the race, the way he took orders without quarreling. He’d changed. Josie wanted to change too, but mostly she wanted to rake him over hot coals. But she wouldn’t. She’d stay behind her wall of indifference where he couldn’t possibly hurt her.