Chapter 10 #2
“I think staying here means living with everyone believing I’m something I’m not.
” It was hard to speak through the lump in his throat.
“My brothers look at me like I finally did something worthwhile. Like the knighthood proves I’m not just the reckless youngest anymore.
But they’re wrong. I’m the same person who froze when it mattered.
Charles was the brave one, and he’s dead while I get to wear a title and pretend I earned it. ”
“And now you’re trying to earn what you think you didn’t deserve.”
The words landed like a fist to his already-bruised ribs. They’d known each other less than two days, spent most of that time arguing or trapped by circumstances. Yet somehow she’d looked past his easy smiles and deflections straight to the rot underneath.
“I froze. When it mattered most, I froze. And a good man died because of it.”
“A good man died protecting someone he’d sworn to serve.” Kate’s voice carried quiet conviction. “That was his choice, Thomas. Not yours.”
“I should have been faster. Should have aimed better the first time. Should have—”
“Should have what? Been perfect?” Her hand squeezed his harder. “You were facing a charging grizzly. Most men would have run.”
“I wanted to run.” The words burned worse than the cold had. “Every instinct screamed at me to drop the rifle and bolt. I stayed because my legs wouldn’t move, not because I was brave.”
“But you stayed.” She shifted slightly, and the movement brought them closer together. “You fired. You stopped the bear. Lord Weldon lived because of your actions.”
“Charles died because of them.”
“Charles died doing his duty.” Her voice turned fierce. “You can’t take that from him by claiming responsibility for his choice. He saw his lord in danger and acted. That’s who he was—not a victim of your mistakes, but a man who made a decision.”
The words should have brought comfort. Instead they scraped against everything he’d been telling himself for months. His failure…he’d been using it to justify leaving Montana, running to California, where no one would know about the knighthood or Charles or the way his hands had shaken.
He’d prayed about it—once, twice, a hundred times—always circling back to the same bargain. If I work hard enough, if I prove myself enough, You’ll let me forget.
But God didn’t bargain like that.
The guilt stayed. The title stayed. And the hollow ache stayed too, because no amount of sweat on a California range would turn him into the man Charles had been.
“My brothers think the knighthood changed me.” He let his gaze roam up to the darkness shielding the stone ceiling above them.
“They see me taking more risks with the horses, talking about California, and they think I’m being reckless.
But really, I’m just trying to prove I’m not the coward I’ve already shown myself to be. ”
Her thumb began tracing circles on his hand again.
“Anyone paying attention can already see you’re not.
When you pulled that girl away from those men in the saloon.
When you pulled me off the ice today. When you went into that storm three times to gather wood, even though your ribs were burning and you probably couldn’t feel your fingers.
” She paused. “Those aren’t the actions of a coward. ”
He wanted to argue. Wanted to point out that helping a girl in a saloon and gathering firewood weren’t the same as facing down a charging grizzly. But the conviction in her voice made the protests die in his throat.
“You’re not running from cowardice.” Kate’s words came softer now, almost gentle. “You’re running from the weight of everyone’s expectations. From having to be the hero they think you are.”
The accuracy of it stole his breath. That was exactly it—the suffocating pressure of living up to a reputation built on one terrible moment.
The way his brothers looked at him now, like he’d finally become someone worthy of the Balfour name.
The settlers in Walnut Springs who’d heard about the knighthood and treated him with new deference he hadn’t earned.
“California won’t fix that.” She said it so matter-of-factly, like stating the obvious. “You’ll just carry it with you. The guilt. The doubt. All of it.”
“At least there I can fail on my own terms.” He’d not thought about those words before they came out, but they were true. “Not as the Duke of Clarence’s disappointing youngest son. Not as the knight who let a man die. Just...me.”
“Just you.” She repeated the words, and the hint of a smile touched her mouth. A pretty mouth. “And who is that, exactly?”
The question hung between them, simple and impossible. Who was Thomas Balfour when you stripped away the title, the family name, the expectations?
He didn’t know. That was the terrifying part—he’d spent so long defining himself in opposition to what others wanted that he’d never stopped to figure out what he actually wanted for himself.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I thought maybe in California I could find out.”
Kate was quiet for a long moment. The fire had burned lower, casting longer shadows across the ice walls. The cold pressed closer now, seeping through their makeshift bed despite their shared warmth.
“You know what I think?” Her voice carried a thoughtful quality he hadn’t heard before. “I think you already know who you are. You’re just afraid you won’t be enough.”
The words struck something deep in his chest, resonating like a bell. Afraid you won’t be enough.
Wasn’t that the heart of it? The fear that without the title, without his family’s name, without some grand achievement to point to, he’d just be...ordinary.
Forgettable.
The spare brother who never quite measured up.
Kate’s expression shifted, something in her features softening. “Maybe you should take some time to figure out who you want to be. Not in California. Not by running away from people who care about you. But here. Where it’s hard.”
“You sound like James.”
The corners of her mouth curved. “Your brother sounds wise.”
A laugh escaped him despite everything. “Don’t let him hear you say that. His head’s big enough already.”
A sparkle lit her eyes, and the sight of it did something strange to his pulse. When had she gotten so close? He could count her lashes in the firelight, see the exact place where gold met green in her irises.
“You should sleep.” He rose on his elbow and leaned forward just enough to toss two more logs on the fire. Then he sank back down to the cave floor beside her.
This time, when he closed his eyes, his mind didn’t churn with all the worries. He could breathe a little deeper. And the luxurious feeling of Kate’s warmth beside him was his last thought before sleep pulled him in.