“Imagine an eighteen-year-old child giving up her innocence so she wouldn’t starve to death, brother. Imagine her other choice was to marry an old man three times her age, who also wanted her innocence. Ben was my grandfather. He was supposed to protect me and watch over me when our mother died, but he saw me as a burden. You weren’t here and he refused to let me live on my own. Not even wild animals sacrifice their young to the wolves, and you want me to forgive him?”
He whispered, “Oh, Spring.”
She wasn’t done. “And Mitch let Matt have me when he wanted to. He enjoyed using his fists.”
He looked stunned.
“So don’t ask me to forgive Ben because I can’t.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you.” The sorrow in his voice made her heart ache.
“I don’t hold any of this against you, Colton. Please don’t think I do. None of it was your fault.”
“But—I didn’t know, Spring. I’m so sorry.”
She was, too. “Go home,” she urged softly. “Give my love to Regan and the children.”
He rose to his feet but appeared to be searching for a way to offer comfort, so she responded with as much sincerity as she could muster. “I’m fine. Been fine for fifteen years. Don’t worry about me.”
He didn’t appear convinced.
“I’m fine,” she echoed. “Go home.”
He studied her for a long moment, then turned and left.
In the silence that followed, she heard Garrett quietly step out onto the porch behind her. Fighting her anger and pain, she stood and without turning his way, said, “I’m going for a ride. I’ll be back later.”
She didn’t bother with a saddle. Fitting Cheyenne with a war bridle, she mounted and gave him his head as they galloped away. They finally stopped at a grassy ridge high above the Paradise River, where Spring watched a mama bear and two frolicking cubs take drinks from the water before moving on. An osprey swooped down and grabbed up a fish, and with outstretched wings flapping powerfully, headed back to its nest.
The evening was peaceful, and the quiet surroundings helped soothe her roiled emotions. She’d been coming to this spot since being old enough to ride alone. The first time, she’d been maybe ten summers. Although she had nomemory of what sparked that visit, she did remember others: mourning her mother’s death, nursing the sadness of Colt’s leaving home to attend Howard Medical School. It was here that she’d wrestled with how to get around Ben’s intractable decision to marry her off, and where the idea came to her to approach Mitch Ketchum about a job.
She glanced over at Cheyenne feeding on the thick grass and thought back on the different mounts she’d ridden here: a mare named Miss Lizzie, a gelding she’d called Fred, and a filly she’d named Cat’s Paw for her white pawlike blaze. So many visits over so many years, and here she sat again.
She knew her revelations to Colt had left him reeling. She hadn’t relished causing him so much distress, but he needed to know what she’d faced. For years she wanted to tell him the full story, but the time never seemed right, and coming up with the words had always been beyond her. Now that he was aware, she hoped he better understood why she’d been so wild and reckless when he’d returned to town after his studies back East. Making her body available to Mitch Ketchum killed the young girl their parents had raised, transforming her into a woman who’d felt dead inside, and as a result, everymorning, whether rising from her own bunk or a Ketchum’s bed, she’d cursed her grandfather.
Down at the river, a small group of elk strode majestically out of the trees. They stopped to scan for danger before lowering their heads to drink. She wondered if they knew how she was supposed to find it in herself to forgive Ben. News that he was facing death didn’t bring joy. She’d always believed he’d live forever. And yet, as she’d noted before, long-buried parts of herself still loved him, and she’d mourn his loss. She just wished he’d loved her as much as she had him.
It was dark when she finally rode home. Garrett had left a lamp on in the front room. She extinguished it and headed down the dark hallway to her room. There was a sliver of light beneath his closed door and she supposed he was up reading while waiting for her return. Due to his healing she’d been sleeping in her own room, but tonight she put on her nightgown and went to his. Entering, she saw his surprise and concern as he viewed her in the doorway and set his book aside. Without a word, she crawled into bed beside him and nestled herself gently against his warm length. He draped an arm over her, placed a soft kiss on her brow that almost made her weep, and doused the lamp.
When Garrett awakened the next morning, he was surprised to find Spring still asleep beside him. Usually after spending the night together she was up and gone before he opened his eyes. He’d been concerned about her when she’d taken off on her stallion yesterday, and wondered if her flight had been tied to the conversation she’d had with her brother. Once the sun set and she still hadn’t returned, his concern grew. Reminding himself that she didn’t need a keeper, he’d settled into bed with his book on Douglass, and forced himself to read. However, as darkness descended, her whereabouts remained foremost in his mind, along with his worries. Then she appeared in the doorway, dressed in her nightgown, eyes filled with an anguish she’d never displayed before, and he didn’t know what to say or do. As she wordlessly slipped into bed with him, he instinctively knew not to pester her with questions. Sorting out the cause of her distress could be dealt with later. He simply held her close until she fell asleep.
And now her eyes were open and holding his. “Good morning,” he said.
“Morning,” she replied. She sat up and brushed the hair loosened from her braid by sleep away from her face.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Better.” And added in a tone filled with sincerity, “Thank you.”
He didn’t pretend not knowing what she was referencing. “That’s what partners are for.”
A small smile curved her lips before she said gravely, “My grandfather is dying.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I am, too. My brother wants me to forgive him for all he did.”
“How do you feel about that?”