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Sterling sidled nearer. “Don’t worry, I’ll find the truth.”
“I know you will.”
A disturbing sense of intimacy left her light-headed. In the blink of an eye her painstakingly cultivated air of practicality fled. Then he turned his smile on the babe, and the moment was broken.
She set her lips in a grim line. His deference was practiced and meant nothing. She must always be on guard around Sterling Blackwell. She must always remember that she was no more special to him than the woman who typed out his telegrams.
He treated everyone with the same indolent consideration, and yet she’d always been susceptible to his charm.
She smoothed her hand over Grace’s wild curls. They were both alone, but now they had each other.
At least for the time being.
* * *
A week after Grace’s unexpected arrival, Sterling adjusted his collar and straightened his string tie in the mirror on the way out the door Sunday morning. He snatched his hat from the peg and loped down the front stairs.
He’d sent a terse telegram to Dillon instructing him to return home immediately. His brother hadn’t been able to attend the funeral, and they’d planned a memorial ceremony upon his return. That was two months ago. From what Dillon wrote in his letters, you’d think the entire West would descend into lawless mayhem without his oversight. No man was irreplaceable. It was time for Dillon to come home and assume responsibility for his half of the ranch.
Sterling had been given a second chance to set things right. He didn’t have all the answers, but he knew where to start.
Otto had the wagon hitched, and the ranch hands were already seated in the back. Five men in all, including the foreman, and they each called a greeting. Only Otto had been around during his father’s time. The bunkhouse had been deserted when Sterling returned two months ago. The ranch had fallen into disrepair during his absence. They were only half staffed currently, which meant there was plenty of room in the bunkhouse for him if his brother moved into the house with his new family.
His step hitched. Could he stay and see them every day? He slammed his hat on his head and strode forward. The right thing and the easy thing were rarely the same.
Otto wore a frown on his normally placid face. “You got in late last night. What happened in Butte?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
Sterling climbed into the driver’s seat and gathered the reins. “No one knows anything. The employee who gave the child to the porter is missing. To tell the truth, I don’t think he even worked for Wells Fargo.”
“The whole event was a hoax?”
“Appears to be.”
“Sure got everyone’s attention.”
“I’m guessing that was the point. Someone wanted to make sure Heather and I were publicly named.”
Otto scrambled in beside him. “What are you doing to do?”
“I’m going to do what I should have done from the beginning.”
The late start nipped at Sterling’s heels. At this rate, he’d have to speak with Heather after the services. A curious anticipation curled along his spine. He didn’t know why their names had been thrown together on that piece of paper, and it didn’t matter anymore. He’d had a lot of time for thinking on the way to Butte and back, and some things had become obvious.
The ranch hands talked and laughed in their usual places in the back of the wagon. Rumors abounded in the bunkhouse, but Sterling wasn’t ready to address the speculation just yet. In the absence of an explanation, hushed conversations grew silent when he passed.
The reverend’s words had rung in his ears the entire time he was searching for Grace’s true parents. Someone had treated the child with a reckless disregard for her safety. Anyone who did something that callous wasn’t coming back anytime soon. Since no one was looking for the child, he’d ruled out any other explanation.
As the spire of the church appeared above the horizon, his stomach churned. The ride into town had seemed to take forever.
The boys clambered out of the wagon and filed by in silence. The reverend was at his usual post—shaking hands in the doorway as people filed into the church. A number of wagons were already hitched beneath the trees. Overhead, slender branches held a few sparse, clinging leaves.
One of the Forester children rang the church bell, his feet coming off the ground in his enthusiasm.
Reverend Morris clasped Sterling on the shoulder and pulled him aside. “What did you discover?”
“Nothing.” Sterling glanced around to ensure they had privacy. “No one knows anything about a missing child. The porter is gone. There’s no matching record for a Return of Birth on file in Silver Bow County. Nobody has reported a child missing, and I had the sheriff send telegrams as far as California.” The search had cost him a pretty penny. Money he didn’t have to spare. “I did everything I could.”
“This is extremely troubling.”
“Have you spoken with Heather?” Sterling peered around the reverend, hoping for a glimpse of her. “How is the child?”
He wanted to give her a sign, something to let her know he’d come up with a plan to put her mind at ease. His arrival the previous evening had been too late for a respectable visit, and he couldn’t risk any more gossip.
“Miss O’Connor arrived with the Foresters. She and the child are inside.” The reverend tugged on his collar. “People are extremely curious about the circumstances. I’m afraid your absence has only worsened the matter.”
“Heather is with the Foresters?”
“Yes. Apparently Mrs. Forester has been assisting her with the care of the child.”
Irene Forester was a year or two older than Sterling, and had two young children. Dillon and her husband had been friends as children, which meant they’d be an ally as they weathered the worst of the storm. Knowing the family had already offered Heather their assistance eased his mind.
Sterling doffed his hat and raked his hands through his hair. “Good. They can help.”
“With what?”
“With stemming the gossip.”
“Then you claim no responsibility for the child?”
“This isn’t about me anymore.”
“I see.” The reverend yanked on his lapels. “I’m needed inside.”
“Wait—”
The reverend was swallowed by the tide of people entering the church, leaving the balance of Sterling’s explanation hanging in the air. He sucked in a breath and counted to ten. What did it matter whether he explained about Dillon now or after the service? Yet he’d been struck with a sense of urgency since making the decision. He was afraid if he thought about it for too long, he’d lose his nerve.
He had a choice, and he chose to consider the child as a blessing. God had given him a second chance, and second chances didn’t come along too often.
As he stepped inside, the eyes of the congregation swiveled toward him. His string tie was strangling him this morning, and he stuck a finger in his collar, then slid into a seat along the back row beside Otto.
His height gave him an advantage, and he soon spotted Heather and Grace. She glanced over her shoulder and their gazes clashed. Her expression remained inscrutable, and his heart beat a rapid tattoo against his chest. He’d be seeing a lot of her in the future considering they were both going to be living on the same ranch, and he’d best get control of his feelings.
The reverend assumed his place at the lectern, distracting her, and the moment was broken.
Sterling spent the first half of the sermon rehearsing his confession to Heather. When he finally had the words just right in his head, the hairs on the back of his neck stirred.
The folks in church were unusually restless, even for one of the reverend’s sermons. Several people in the congregation flicked glances over their shoulders in his direction, then quickly turned back toward the front.
Sterling’s attention sharpened, and he focused on the man’s words. The reverend finished reading a letter from Corinthians that seemed awfully heavy on warnings against the immoral and admonishments against those who consorted with immoral people. A bead of sweat formed on the back of Sterling’s neck.
The reverend set down his Bible, braced his hands on either side of the lectern, and stared down the congregation. “I am a deeply troubled man. I believe in a God who believes in love and compassion, and I believe in a God who believes in forgiveness.” He heaved a great sigh. “But I also believe in a set of moral codes. As a man of God, I find solace in a righteous path.”
Several people shifted in their seats. Otto and Sterling exchanged a glance. Was it just his imagination, or had the sermon taken on a decidedly personal note?
“A child has come into our community under extraordinary circumstances.”
Sterling’s face burned. Nope. It wasn’t his imagination.
“I have listened to the concerns of my community.” The volume of the reverend’s voice rose to a crescendo, reverberating directly into Sterling’s ears. “And I have answered your questions to the best of my ability. After much soul-searching, I have come to the conclusion that you cannot choose to live a life of sin and also join with us in worship, Mr. Blackwell and Miss O’Connor. You are no longer welcome among our congregation.”
A collective gasp erupted. Sterling shot to his feet, along with Otto. Heather propped Grace on her hip as she scooted out of the pew. The brim of her hat covered her face, preventing him from reading her expression.
As she rushed down the aisle, he caught her by the wrist before she reached the door. Her pulse beat rapidly beneath his fingertips. “Wait. We can explain. I can fix this.”
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I’m sorry.”
Otto hitched his pants and threw back his shoulder. “Hold up on the fire and brimstone, Reverend. These two plan on getting hitched. Right now, if you like.”
Chapter Three
Heather froze in place. A smattering of applause sounded, and the congregation descended into excited chatter.
“What are you doing, Otto?” Sterling whispered harshly.
The foreman shrugged. “Ain’t that what you told me on the way over? That you two was getting hitched?”
Judging by the look on Sterling’s face, that wasn’t what he’d said at all. The commotion was agitating Grace, and Heather bounced the child on her hip. While events weren’t exactly going to plan, at least they were moving in the right direction.
The reverend banged his hand on the lectern. “A little decorum, if you please. Is this true, Miss O’Connor, Mr. Blackwell?”
Heather turned toward Sterling and lifted her shoulder in a helpless shrug. The reverend took the vague gesture as a sign of agreement.
“Hallelujah.” Using his gnarled fingers, he pinched the loose end of his robe sleeves against his wrist and dabbed at his brow. “The wedding of Miss O’Connor and Mr. Blackwell will take place in exactly two hours.”
Appearing exhausted by the sudden turn of events, the reverend tucked his Bible beneath his arm and strode down the aisle.
He paused before Heather and Sterling. “I’ll fetch the witness book. Two hours.”
Her breath caught. Events weren’t just moving in the right direction, they were racing ahead and leaving her behind.
Confused by the abrupt end of the service, the townspeople stood and milled about, their voices droning.
Otto placed two fingers in his mouth and blew out a whistle. “Don’t just stand around. Go on home and have supper.”
His words spurred the crowd into action. People gathered their belongings, shrugging into coats, and men donned their hats.
Heather cast a surreptitious glance at Sterling to gauge his response, then quickly looked away. He wasn’t taking this well. At least she had two hours to convince him of her plan. Keeping him in her peripheral vision, she fielded murmured congratulations and perfunctory handshakes as the church emptied.
Otto was the last person to leave. He tipped his hat. “See you after supper.”
Alone with Sterling, her courage faltered. All her careful words muddled together in her head.
Seemingly in a similar place, Sterling paced the center aisle with the restless energy of a caged bear. “I telegraphed Dillon.”
Her hold on Grace slipped. “You did what?”
“I’m trying to make this right.” He flipped back the edges of his jacket and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his gray wool trousers. “It’s my fault Dillon broke things off with you.”
Her panic must have registered with Grace. The child’s lower lip trembled, and she tugged on Heather’s earbobs.
“Ma!”
“No. Not yours. Mine,” Heather corrected the child. She flashed an apologetic look at Sterling. “I think that’s what she was trying to say at the train depot. I think ma means mine. She’s very taken with shiny things.”
“You have to listen to me, Heather.” Sterling grasped her shoulder and steered her toward a pew in the last row, then knelt before her. “I’m the reason you’re not with Dillon.”
Gracie had already been forced to sit still for too long, and her patience lapsed. She flipped onto her stomach and let her feet dangle off the edge of the pew.
“Da.”
“Down.” Heather helped her the rest of the way. “Gracie is down.”
“Da,” Gracie repeated.
For the past week, Heather had felt like a professor attempting to decipher a new language. Words often coincided with actions, giving her clues as to Gracie’s intent. More often than not, they both wound up frustrated with each other.
“What do you mean?” Heather asked, her attention distracted by Gracie’s busy explorations. “I already know about your pa. You don’t have to apologize for him. I understand.”
There was no need for him to explain, and all this talk of Dillon was wasting what precious little time they had together before the reverend returned.
Sterling rubbed his eyebrows with the tips of his fingers. “Dillon left because I talked him into going.”
“Oh.” She was more curious than shocked. “I thought your pa disapproved.”
“It’s a long story.” He pressed his hands together as though in prayer. “I had this all rehearsed, but nothing is going as planned.”
She huffed out a breath. “I know the feeling.”
“I didn’t want Dillon to become like our pa.” He tilted his fingertips toward her. “I knew if Dillon stayed, he’d be just like him. I saw the changes as he got older. I talked him into leaving even though I knew he was sweet on you. I told myself the two of you weren’t serious.”
“We weren’t.”
“Don’t you see?” Sterling shook his head in disbelief. “Maybe this baby is a blessing in disguise. You two can be together.”
Gracie tugged on her skirts. “Hungie.”
Heather unwrapped the heel of bread she’d stowed in her bag for such an emergency. Gracie stuffed one end into her mouth, and Heather hoisted her onto the seat once more.
“I appreciate the apology,” she began, “but it doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t say to Dillon. He made the choice alone. By himself.”
She didn’t suppose it mattered who had spoken with Dillon or what they’d said. If he’d felt anything for her, even a sliver of affection, he’d have had some remorse in leaving. The letter stuffed in her copy of The Return of the Native had made his lack of regard for her glaringly clear.
“This is a second chance,” Sterling said.
“I don’t want a second chance. I didn’t even want the first chance, not really.” How did she explain something to someone else when she didn’t quite understand herself? “When I first arrived in Valentine, I didn’t know anyone. Dillon was nice to me. I mistook gratitude for something more.”
Dillon had appeared troubled and lost, feelings she understood all too well. She’d sensed in him a kindred spirit. She’d been drawn to him because his confusion had mirrored her own. She’d recently fled an untenable situation, and she’d caught Sterling’s brother in the same moment of indecision. A fundamentally flawed part of her character had sensed she was latching on to a man who was fixing to leave.
“But you have to marry someone,” Sterling said. “Didn’t you hear the reverend? Everything I discovered about this child led her straight to us. It’s as though Grace appeared out of thin air. Only you and I know the truth, and no one is interested in our opinion. As long as the three of us stay in this town, you have to marry someone, and it’s either him or me.”
“Then I choose you.”
He lost his balance and groped for the pew behind him. “What?”
“Have you ever come to a turning point in your life?” His obvious shock wasn’t encouraging, but at least he hadn’t uttered an outright refusal. “A moment when everything changes and you can’t go back to being the person you were before?”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“I can never go back to the person I was before Gracie came into my life. This week has changed me. When you said she was a blessing, you were right. I’ve been praying for the answer all week. When you came into the church this morning, I knew. I could tell just by looking that you hadn’t discovered anything, and I knew. Someone abandoned her. They don’t deserve her.”
Gracie extended a fistful of soggy bread. Her pinafore was damp with drool and flecks of dough. “Da. Gra da.”
“Done. Gracie is done,” Heather translated. She caught Sterling’s expression and rushed ahead. “I realize she’s not at her best, but you’ll grow to love her too. I know you will.”
Sterling clasped her fingers in his warm grasp, his calluses rasping against the soft material of her gloves. “If you felt something for Dillon before, even something casual, maybe you can feel something for him again.”
“I don’t want to feel that way ever again, and I don’t think you do either.” His touch was distracting her from her purpose, and she gently tugged away. His grip tightened around her fingers, keeping her in his grasp. “I’d do this alone if I thought I could, but Gracie will always be fodder for gossip.”
“Now you’ve lost me,” he said.
She gathered her wits and considered her next words carefully. “You’re always flirting and carrying on with girls, but have you ever actually courted someone?”
The tips of his ears heated. “Well, um, no.”
“You’re the most eligible bachelor in town. You own the largest ranch in the county. You could have any girl.”
He released her fingers, but the warmth of his touch lingered, and she flexed her fingers.
“I wouldn’t say the most eligible,” he demurred. “Top three maybe.”
She wasn’t playing fair, ambushing the man like this, but she’d run out of options. She’d been mulling the problem over for the past three days, and during that time, she’d fallen hopelessly in love with Gracie. She’d considered all her options and had come to the conclusion that Sterling was her only choice, for exactly the reasons she’d stated.
The reverend and Otto had merely sped up events, though she hadn’t planned on springing the idea on him quite this way. While all of her reasons were sound, she recognized that Sterling didn’t have as much incentive for taking on the two of them. He didn’t know Gracie, and he’d never fully comprehend her reasoning.
He didn’t understand what it was like to go from being loved and cherished to being an irritating annoyance. He didn’t know what it felt like to be unwanted. He didn’t know what it was like to feel so lonely that a body physically ached.
“I don’t...” He appeared to struggling with some sort of internal battle. “I mean to say...” He tipped his head to one side. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. I’m certain.”
She offered up a brief prayer for forgiveness considering she’d all but ambushed the man. He wasn’t courting anyone, so she wasn’t treading on any toes there. Gracie needed a home. And while Sterling could probably do better than her, especially considering his wealth and his looks, he could also do worse.
She felt only a twinge of guilt, which was quickly wiped away when she recalled that neither of them had asked for any of this. The whole situation felt like a blatant manipulation. She had no family connections, no money, nothing. A man with Sterling’s attributes had far better choices for motherhood than a nobody like her. She was as certain of his innocence as she was her own. They were both victims of the same bald-faced lie, and they had to design their own solution.
Gracie stood and tugged on the silk flowers of her bonnet.
Sterling offered a half grin. “She never gives up.”
“She’s extremely tenacious.” Heather sensed he was softening to the idea, and sprinted ahead. “Despite what the preacher said today, I truly believe the people in town only want the best for us.”
Irene’s support had been invaluable. Most folks were confused as well as curious. Her students had been inquisitive about Gracie’s arrival, and she’d sensed many of their questions were echoes of what had been discussed around the dinner table with their parents the previous evening. There’d been plenty of stares and whispers. There had also been moments of kindness.
Tom, whose dad owned the general store, had ordered store-bought clothing for Gracie since there wasn’t time for sewing all she needed. Mrs. Stone had sent an extra pail of milk with her daughter to class each morning, while only charging for a single pail. Irene had watched Gracie during the school hours.
For the first few days Heather had hoped to fall asleep and wake to the uncomplicated life she’d led before the child’s arrival. She’d been neither content nor discontent, but somewhere in the middle. She’d resigned herself to a life as the spinster schoolteacher. Anything was an improvement over living with her aunt and uncle in Pittsburgh. If she was going to live a lonely life, she much preferred the view of the mountains to the view of the smelting stacks.
She taught her students and read books during the summer. She’d been satisfied with her life, or so she’d thought. Gracie had changed her way of thinking in only a week. God had brought this child into her life at this time for a reason. Someone to love unreservedly and unconditionally. Someone who might even love her back. Heather had seen plenty of men and women fall out of love with each other, but she’d never seen a child fall out of love with a mother.
Sterling’s back was turned, preventing her from gauging his expression. He rubbed the nape of his neck.
“I misspoke before,” he declared.
A sudden uneasy feeling seized her. “About what?”
He turned.
“Top two.” His grin was crooked and achingly enduring. “I’m definitely in the top two most eligible bachelors.”
She nearly sagged with relief. The serious side of him was gone, and he’d transformed back into the Sterling she knew and understood. He was once again the charming rogue with the ready smile.
Gracie grinned at their shared laughter, wanting in on the joke, and Heather hugged her close. She knew what it felt like to be alone. No one had ever wanted her, not really, not since her ma had passed. Her pa had left her with her aunt and uncle after the war because she was a girl. He’d told her as much when he’d packed her trunks. If you were a boy, I’d keep you, but a girl needs a woman to raise her.
Her aunt and uncle hadn’t wanted her. Even Dillon hadn’t wanted her. Only Gracie had embraced her love with innocent abandon.
Sterling was only grudgingly conceding because he’d been trapped by circumstance.
Her heart did a curious little flip. When he’d arrived at the church, she’d nearly tossed her plan to the wind. In his work clothing he was handsome; in his Sunday suit he was devastatingly so. She had an uneasy premonition she’d been thrown together with the one man who could break her heart, which meant extra vigilance was in order. Love was serious business, but as long as he stayed the same carefree man who made her laugh, they’d do fine together.
She’d made a solemn vow that Gracie would never feel unwanted, and she meant to keep that vow, no matter the personal cost.