The Wilderness Bride (Oregon #1)

Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

A shley was out chopping wood when Lisa discovered her flow had, once again, come. It had started when she was finishing the baby cap. She hadn’t noticed the slight ache in her lower back right away. While she didn’t experience pain, she did have mild discomfort during that time of the month, and it always started in her lower back. As soon as she noticed it, she almost didn’t check. She had been too afraid to check. But she had to check because the last thing she wanted to do was get blood on her clothes and the chair she was sitting on.

When she checked, it confirmed her worst fears. Even being with Ashley at the stream hadn’t enabled her to conceive. Once she put the sanitary cloth in place, she sat in the rocking chair. The cap remained in her hands. Her head was hung in defeat.

Tears made their way down her cheeks. She had exhausted all of her options. She was at a loss. Nothing worked. No matter what she did, she couldn’t have a child.

Was this because of her sin? Preacher Ryder had spent an entire sermon warning everyone that no one got away with sin. He’d kept emphasizing that the day of reckoning would eventually come. If she could go back and change things, she would. But since she couldn’t, how could she atone for things?

She clutched the cap in her hands. The fabric was such a bright, pretty blue color. It was like the color of the sky when the sun was out. The fabric was also soft. It would have protected a baby’s head from rain and cold, but with no little one to wear it, it would remain unused. For the rest of her life, her womb would be empty.

She sniffed and stood up from the chair. Her movements felt mechanical as she went to the drawer where she kept the burping cloth and the blanket she’d made. She brought the items out and caressed them in the same way she had once caressed her daughter’s cheek, in the way she had hoped to caress her second child’s cheek.

She choked back on more tears and clutched the items to her chest. She couldn’t take it anymore. Her heart was ripping apart, and there was nothing she could do about it. All of these things were supposed to go to her child, but apparently, the only child she would ever have was in Nebraska, and there was no way she could get her daughter back.

She screamed and started to tear the items apart at the seams. She couldn’t look at these anymore. She couldn’t touch them anymore. All they did was taunt her. They were a cruel reminder of everything she wanted but could never have. And she hated them.

When the blanket wouldn’t rip, she ran over to the knife hanging by the cookstove and stabbed the fabric. She hated this blanket. She hated the burping cloth. She hated the cap. She hated everything they promised but would never deliver. She hated watching Corrine’s belly expand, knowing full well that Corrine would get to keep her child while she hadn’t been able to. She hated Preston who didn’t love her as he claimed. She hated her parents who couldn’t show her the same compassion Corrine’s family had. But most of all, she hated herself for not telling Preston no when she had the chance. All of this could have been avoided if she could only go back to that one moment in her past and say no.

By the time she had cut the blanket into tiny pieces, she went and did the same with what remained of the burping cloth and cap. She thought this might make her feel better. And in some ways, it did. She was no longer shaking with anger. But as she stared at the pieces of fabric strewn all over the floor, she realized she wasn’t numb, either.

She was miserable. She was empty. She had no purpose. No reason for going on. She should have jumped off that cliff when she first came to this town. She never should have let fear stop her from taking that final step. She never should have run into the shelter of the trees. She should have just ended it. Then she wouldn’t be in so much pain that she could hardly breathe.

She stumbled over to the rocking chair and collapsed into it. Then she wept. She had no idea how long she wept. All she knew was that her eyes burned, her cheeks were wet, and her chest hurt.

Once the tears weren’t coming as fast, she was finally able to take a deep breath. She put her head back and closed her eyes. The tears still found their way past her eyelids and down her cheeks. She hadn’t cried this hard since the day she handed her daughter—her dear Sara—over to that couple. She’d managed to hold the tears back until she was alone in her hotel room. The only thing that had kept her holding on was knowing she was going to make it to the West Coast and see the Pacific Ocean before she died.

She couldn’t kill herself while she was in Omaha. The couple would probably blame themselves for her death. She wanted them to have good memories of adopting Sara. If they knew how much it hurt her to give her daughter up, it would ruin things for them. In years to come, she wanted them to tell Sara how happy they were to be able to raise her. They hadn’t been able to have children of their own. They had already adopted a boy, but they longed for a second child. She figured if she couldn’t be happy, they ought to be, and she knew they would give Sara a good life. As soon as Annabelle held the girl and named her Sara, Lisa knew the couple would love her daughter with the love the girl deserved.

But she loved Sara, too. The only difference was that she wasn’t able to keep her.

Lisa opened her eyes. Sunlight filtered in through the window, centering her back into the present. The urge to cry had finally subsided, though her cheeks remained wet. She sniffed and wiped her cheeks and then her nose with the sleeve of her dress. Something flashed in the sunlight. Eyebrows furrowed, she focused on the object. She hadn’t realized she was still holding the knife.

She lowered her hand into her lap and closed her eyes. She focused on her breathing. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t want to go on living. She was tired of it. Tired of all the regrets. Tired of all the pain. But she doubted she’d have the courage to step off that cliff. If she hadn’t been able to do it before, what made her think she could do it now?

The rocks jutting out of the cliff were too scary. The height might possibly kill her. Landing in the water might kill her. But really, could she be certain it would even work? What if she survived it? She would be injured. Who knew if she would ever recover from such injuries? No. If she was going to kill herself, it had to be something that she knew would do the job.

Perhaps something like a gun. Or poison. Or…or a knife.

She opened her eyes and turned her gaze to the knife she was holding. The tip was sharp. The blade was sharp. It cut through a wolf and elk without any difficulties. It would slice through her skin with such ease she might not even feel it until afterward. And at that point, she couldn’t talk herself out of it. There would be no time to give in to fear.

Yes. This would work. She pulled up her sleeve and studied her free arm. One could slit their wrist with a knife. One swift motion. A second. Two at the most. Then all of her pain would be over.

She settled the knife back on her lap, closed her eyes, and focused on how she would do it. If she wanted to be quick, she would need to get it right the first time. Her gaze went back to her wrist, and she brought the knife over to it.

More tears came. She blinked them away, and as she did, she saw the clamshell resting between her breasts, resting right over her heart. She blinked again. This time, she focused on the shell.

“What do you think?” Ashley had asked her after he retrieved it from the ocean. “I can make it into a necklace for you to wear. It goes well with your hair. This will enhance your beauty.”

His words had been soft. His smile had been tender.

“It won’t be anything fancy like what you’d find in a catalogue at the mercantile, but this is a unique piece of jewelry. You won’t find anything like it anywhere else. And, best of all, when you look at it, you’ll remember this day,” he’d said.

Her grip loosened on the knife.

She recalled the way he had kissed and held her that day. The way he kissed and held her was much better than the way Preston had ever kissed and held her. Preston’s motives were selfish. They were all about what pleasure he could get from her. Ashley, however, gave as much as he took, and sometimes he even gave more than that.

She recalled the day at the stream. He had only stayed with her because she’d wanted it. He hadn’t wanted to linger there, but he had done it for her. Everything he did was for her.

She studied the clamshell and the braided thread that held it around her neck. Then she took a good look at the cabin she was sitting in. She had come out here with nothing, and Ashley had given her a home. She loved him. Maybe she should have realized it before now, but she hadn’t.

This time when her eyes filled with tears, she felt a surge of gratitude rise up within her. Gratitude that, of all places she could have ended up when she left Vermont, she ended up here. Gratitude that Ashley had been the one to find her. Gratitude that he had chosen to bring her here so he could nurse her back to health. Gratitude that he had chosen to care for her and protect her after the preacher made him marry her. He could have dropped her off somewhere and left her, but he hadn’t. And he had given her this beautiful clamshell. He had made gloves for her. He was making a pair of boots for her. He had done so much for her, and he was still doing things for her. How could she possibly not love someone like that? He was her reason for living.

The door of the cabin opened, and her head snapped at the doorway.

Ashley’s gaze went to the knife in her hand. Before she had time to blink, he rushed over to her and grabbed it from her. “What is this?” he yelled. “What are you doing?” He stepped away from her in shock. Then he looked at her, and then he looked at the knife. “What were you going to do with this?” he screamed.

She flinched at the anger in his voice.

He uttered a curse word then started to go through the entire cabin. She wasn’t sure what he was searching for until she saw him take his razor and pull down a rope from a high shelf. He was taking away anything she could use to kill herself.

She struggled to talk, but the words wouldn’t come. He had taken her by surprise. She hadn’t expected him to be back until evening. When he went out to chop wood, he could be gone all day. She hadn’t expected him to find her like this. And he was so angry. She’d never seen him angry before. All she could do was watch as he finished his search through the cabin. He had found a couple more items that could be used to inflict self-harm, and all of them were now tucked under his arms.

When he was done, he turned back to her. “I’m not going to let you do it. I don’t care how miserable I make you. You are not allowed to kill yourself. I won’t let you. You’re going to spend the rest of your life here with me whether you like it or not!” Then he stormed out of the cabin, slamming the door behind him.

She jerked, but she didn’t jerk because he slammed the door. She jerked because of what he’d said. He thought she was going to kill herself because she was miserable with him. She’d hurt him. He was angry because he was scared he’d lose her.

He loved her.

He loved her.

She put her hand up to her mouth and choked back a sob. How did she miss it? In all the time she’d been with him, she never once picked up on the fact that everything he did for her was because he loved her.