Chapter 9
Cressida rose from the grave site, pressing her fingers to her lips, kissing them before touching them to one headstone and then the other.
Visits to her parents’ graves never got any easier, even all these years later. She thought in time that the hurt would dull, that she wouldn’t still miss them as much as her first day without them.
There were times when the pain was less, but today was not one of those days.
Mrs. Agatha looped her arm with Cressida’s as they turned and walked from the cemetery. “I didn’t see you at church yesterday.”
“We had every intention of going,” Cressida said, exhaustion pulling at her shoulders, a numbness seeping into her bones.
“Etta’s leg was bothering her. She’s been working so hard the last couple of days and won’t take a moment to rest, no matter what I tell her, so yesterday it required some tending to. ”
Mrs. Agatha’s eyebrows pulled together, and she patted Cressida’s arm. “I know this is hard for you, but you’re doing the best you can.”
“It still feels like I’m not doing enough most of the time, and I don’t know how to fix that feeling.”
“I don’t know that there’s much you can do to fix it.” Mrs. Agatha steered her through the wrought iron gate that surrounded the cemetery, past the steps leading up to the white church.
Children dashed by on their way home from school, the bell tolling in the distance to signal their release.
“I have done everything I can, and I know that, but there has to be something else. There has to be a reason why she has to live half a life.” Cressida’s voice broke slightly, but she cleared her throat and pushed down the emotions that wanted to break free.
“There’s nothing you can do but wait at this point. It’s in God’s hands, and you have to trust that He has a greater plan.”
“It’s pretty hard to trust in that plan some days.” Cressida smiled and waved to a couple of women standing in front of the general store.
“I know, but if you don’t, then you’re going to make yourself upset.” Mrs. Agatha steered her down the street and past the post office, down near the hardware store.
Tobin came out with an armful of wooden planks. He stopped in his tracks and tipped his head to them.
“You’re the new neighbor, I hear. You and that other man.” Mrs. Agatha gave him a smile, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t get the chance to meet either of you when I was there last week, but I’m Mrs. Agatha.”
“Tobin Rook, pleasure to meet you.” He shifted the wood in his arms, giving her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too. The other man who was with you, is he doing well? I know he had quite the injuries.” Mrs. Agatha motioned to the wood in his arm. “If you go directly to the mill, Matthew is likely to cut some for cheaper for you, and he’s willing to deliver.”
“He’s doing well.” Tobin glanced at Cressida when he spoke. She couldn’t help the rush of relief that went through her at knowing Ronan was going to be fine.
She also didn’t miss the way Tobin avoided saying his name either. It was odd, but perhaps there was something more to the story.
“As for the lumber mill information, thank you. I don’t think we’ll be needing much wood cut, but that’s good to know.” Tobin offered her a smile and tipped his hat.
However, before he could escape, Mayor Conrad Fairmont strode over with his signature slimy smile. To most people, Cressida thought the smile might be charming, handsome even, but there was something behind it that she didn’t trust.
“Cressida, Mrs. Agatha,” Conrad said, stopping a little too close to Cressida for her liking. “I was just heading to the town hall when I saw the two of you speaking, and I thought I would say hello to you and your…new friend over here.”
Conrad looked Tobin over, his smile wavering slightly. Cressida took the look between the men as a chance to step away from Conrad, needing some space to breathe.
“A distant cousin of Cressida’s late husband,” Mrs. Agatha said, quickly supplying the lie she had provided before. “Tobin here is going to be running a ranch with his friend.”
Conrad held out his hand, his smile growing, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you! If I had known that we were going to have some new ranchers in town, I would have made it a point to visit you and your friend.”
“I’d advise against it right now,” Tobin said, shaking his hand briefly. “The ranch is in quite a state of disrepair, and it’s going to be a while until we’re ready to have visitors.”
“Well, I would like to come out. Perhaps I could help,” Conrad said, chuckling and positioning himself closer to Cressida as if he had noticed her absence. “It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to get my hands dirty.”
“Oh, we can manage.” Tobin’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the mayor, but it could have been from the setting sun shining down on him. “I have to be going, though. We’ve only been at the ranch for a day, and we’re trying to get as much done as possible today before we lose the light.”
Before Conrad could say anything else, Tobin took off down the street, heading for a horse with a cart hitched to it waiting between the hardware store and the bakery.
Conrad turned to Cressida with a smile. “Well, since my help isn’t needed, perhaps I could walk you home?”
She froze, fighting the urge to look at Mrs. Agatha for help. “I’m sorry, but I have plans today. Mrs. Agatha is going to come for tea and help me with making some salves.”
The tea part was the truth, but the salve part was a lie crafted purely to cause Conrad to lose interest. As kind as he could seem on the surface, and as well-meaning as she supposed he was, he had made his interest in her clear from the moment she came back to town.
It was an unwelcome interest. He was a good enough man, but Cressida favored men who worked with their hands for a living.
The kind of man who looked rough but was soft in the home.
A man who was willing to love her more than he loved himself, and Mayor Conrad Fairmont surely loved nothing more than his own reflection.
“Perhaps I could come with you, at least for the walk.” He stepped closer to her, like he was on the verge of taking her arm.
Cressida stepped back. “I’m sure that there are other things you have to do.”
“Nothing so important as making sure you return home in good health,” he said, his voice taking on an odd tone, a glimmer in his eyes that she didn’t quite understand.
“Is there something I should be worried about?” Cressida asked, already thinking of the robbers who had attacked Ronan close to her property. She didn’t dare voice that out loud, though.
Conrad gave a forced laugh. “Of course not, but it’s just you and Etta out there. You should have someone looking out for you.”
“We’re doing just fine,” she said, her voice tight as she eyed him, a tremor running through her.
There was something about Conrad that never sat right with her.
She saw the way he circled her like a vulture, the way he had since he found out she was a widow. It had always left a bad taste in her mouth, especially when he was so persistent.
You’re going to have to take a husband again soon, he’d said once when he cornered her at the general store. There’s no reason I shouldn’t be that man. I could turn your property, your lives, into something special.
Those words played through her mind now as she looked at him, feeling a little sick to her stomach. She didn’t know what he thought he could change about her life, but she wasn’t interested in it then, and she certainly wasn’t interested in it now.
“Another time then?” he asked, his tone hopeful.
“Of course,” Cressida said, though she didn’t specify when another time would be as she looped her arm back through Mrs. Agatha’s. “Have a good day, Mayor.”
Mrs. Agatha shook her head, her lips pressed together, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
Cressida hurried down the street, turning the corner at the end and taking the road out of town that led to home. It would be about an hour’s walk still, and there was part of her that thought she should have taken one of the horses.
But it was a beautiful evening, the sun still high as spring crept closer to summer. Streaks of pink and orange were starting to appear high above the fluffy white clouds.
“You know that man is sweet on you,” Mrs. Agatha said, her tone light and teasing. “He’s got a good income. Enough to support you and Etta. You might even be able to hire a nurse and return to work if you wanted.”
“But then I would be married to Conrad Fairmont.” Cressida shook her head, letting go of Mrs. Agatha’s arm long enough to pick some wildflowers to give to Etta. “He is a kind man, but he is…”
“Rather self-important?” Mrs. Agatha laughed and gave a dismissive flick of her hand. “Those kinds of things often disappear when a man finally has a family. It could be something you look past. He would learn in time to care for more than himself. After all, he does look after an entire town.”
“Let’s ignore the self-importance for a moment.” Cressida looked at the flowers in her hand, picking off some of the dead petals and letting them flutter on the wind as they floated away. “I don’t love him, and I don’t know if I could ever love him.”
“You won’t know if you can love someone or not until you give yourself permission to try loving again.”
Cressida kicked a rock down the road as they walked, watching it bounce.
“I don’t think it’s that easy. Yes, my feelings for Edmund have shifted from romantic love during the time that’s passed since his death, but I don’t know if I’m capable of that romantic love again.
Not when you risk losing the person you care about. ”
“It’s better to love with reckless abandon than it is to stay alone for the rest of your life simply because you’re afraid of losing someone.”
“You never remarried after your husband died,” Cressida said gently.
Mrs. Agatha gave a slight shake of her head, her gaze warm as she looked at her. “I was over two decades older than you are now when I lost my husband. I had a lifetime with him.”
“I had years with Edmund in Idaho.”
“You did, and nobody will invalidate the time you had together or the way you loved each other. I saw the two of you when you were first married, before you all moved for his job. The way he loved you was unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
“Then does that make me a horrible person for wondering if there could be another man out there for me?”
“I think it makes you human, and humans want companionship. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”
Mrs. Agatha turned to her, putting her hands on her shoulders and stopping her in her tracks. “If you feel like you could be ready to love another again, then that is your decision. Edmund would want you to be loved and to know love. He would want you to chase all of your dreams.”
“You don’t think it would be betraying his memory?” Cressida asked, Ronan’s face appearing in her mind for just a moment before it disappeared.
“Darling girl,” Mrs. Agatha said, using the same pet name Cressida’s mother used to use. “I know that nothing would honor Edmund more than you being happy.”
Tears burned in the corners of Cressida’s eyes, but deep down, she knew Mrs. Agatha was right. Edmund would want her to be happy. He would want her to go out and live her life. She had said as much to Etta, hadn’t she?
“You can speak to me about anything,” Mrs. Agatha said, her thumb brushing Cressida’s cheek and catching a tear that dared to slip free. “You have nothing to be afraid of with me.”
But without her, Cressida knew she had plenty to be afraid of.
Including a handsome man who lived next door with hair a little too long and dark eyes that seemed to bore straight into her soul.