Chapter 16
No one had called on him all day. Not one single person for one single visit.
Thatcher stared unseeingly at the newspaper on his lap.
People despised him all over again because, true to his word, Beckett had gone into town and bad-mouthed him to everyone.
Jeremy Usher had stopped by earlier in the day to warn Thatcher that the rumors were flying about how he’d purposefully refused to help Beckett’s horse and had let him die.
Thatcher blew out a breath, the sound noisy in the silence that was broken only by the crackling fire.
On the sofa across from him, Amelia glanced up from the waist of one of the skirts she was loosening to fit her growing stomach.
He didn’t meet her gaze, though. He hadn’t been able to since yesterday when they’d gotten home from the Noble Ranch and he’d revealed the secret he’d kept from her about his past, the mistake that had forced him to move away from his family and community.
She’d been understanding when he’d told her about Nora and the barn fire. She’d told him the same thing his mother had, that if Nora had really loved him, she wouldn’t have let him take the blame. Instead, she would have gone to her father and defended him.
He wasn’t sure how his mother had discovered that Nora had been in the barn that night.
Maybe she’d just suspected it. Of course, Mother had told Father, and they’d come to his little apartment in town and encouraged him to ask Nora to speak up to her father.
Thatcher had refused to pressure Nora in any way and asked his parents not to say anything either.
Even though they’d honored his request, they’d warned him that it wouldn’t end well.
They’d been right. He’d had to move away in shame.
This time, he’d hoped to be the man of good character Amelia had wanted, someone well-respected in the community.
But he had fallen short. And now he was just putting off the inevitable in talking with Amelia about their marriage and how to go about annulling it.
Maybe he’d been hanging on to the slim hope that Beckett wouldn’t start rumors about the gelding, wouldn’t smear his name, wouldn’t say anything at all about the bride mix-up.
Maybe he’d hoped the situation would all quietly disappear, and he and Amelia could go on with their life as before.
However, Beckett had not only let everyone know about Thatcher’s mistakes, meaning no one now wanted his services as a veterinarian, but also spread the rumor that Thatcher had stolen Amelia from him.
If people hadn’t been upset enough about the first rumor, the second one had nailed the coffin shut.
“Thatcher?” Amelia said tentatively, setting her mending down in her lap. “Should we talk about what we plan to do next?”
She’d asked that last night when they’d been sitting in their spots in front of the fire. He’d answered her that they shouldn’t rush into anything and that he wanted time to think about what to do.
She’d nodded and hadn’t pushed him to talk, even though the silence was completely foreign to him and their relationship.
She hadn’t brought up the issue today either.
Even though they hadn’t gone anywhere, they’d both kept busy.
She’d tended Queen as often as usual, and he’d done all the farm tasks he’d neglected over recent weeks—chopping wood, fixing one of the stall doors, bringing in more hay for the winter, and other boring but necessary duties.
As the day had worn on without a visitor to ask for his help, the last remnants of hope inside him had fizzled into nothing. Now, as he tried to read the newspaper, he could no longer deny the truth. His veterinarian practice had been ruined again.
The other truth was that he loved Amelia, and he wasn’t ready to release her from the marriage agreement. He didn’t want to lose her. But what right did he have to keep her?
He expelled another tight breath and set the newspaper on the side table.
“You keep sighing,” she said softly. “It would probably do us both good to talk about what we should do.”
“I know.” He slumped over and rested his elbows on his knees while burying his face in his hands.
“No one has sought out my services today. That means I’m done here in Summit County.
” He would become an outcast in this community, the same way he had in Cedar Rapids.
Eventually he would have to move on and try to start over again.
“It might just mean none of the animals around here have any major medical needs.”
“Or it could be that people have lost confidence in me and my abilities.”
“Maybe everyone is busy with Christmas preparations.”
Thatcher appreciated that she was trying to make him feel better, but he had to face the reality of his situation. “Animals don’t know that it’s Christmas and won’t take a break from getting sick.”
She plucked at a loose thread on the skirt she’d been mending. “We don’t know what’s really going on, and maybe it’s too soon to jump to conclusions.”
He wished that were the case. “I’ve never gone a whole day without being called upon. This is my first.”
“I’m sure it has nothing to do with our situation.” She didn’t look up at him as she tugged at the thread faster.
“According to my friend Jeremy, Beckett went into town yesterday and made it pretty clear to everyone that I wasn’t willing to help his horse the way a real veterinarian would. He said why bother having a veterinarian like me if I’m not willing to do things they can’t?”
Amelia’s pretty brow furrowed above her hazel eyes. “He doesn’t really mean it, does he?”
Thatcher shrugged. “Whether he meant it or not, now people are doubting my abilities and my integrity.”
She was silent a moment. “Let’s hope their doubts pass soon.”
“People are taking to heart what Beckett said. He’s been around these parts longer than me, and people respect his word.”
It was her turn to sigh. “I’m sorry, Thatcher. It’s not fair.”
The truth was, Beckett was more respected, and since being respected was a quality she valued so highly, then maybe she’d be better off with Beckett.
“So, what would you like to do about everything?” He hadn’t wanted to ask her how she wanted to handle the mix-up. But she was right. It was past time to discuss it.
“What do you want to do?” she asked back.
Thatcher had wanted today to bring more clarity.
But the only thing it had brought was the confirmation that he wouldn’t be the kind of husband she’d wanted.
He needed to give her the freedom to choose a different life than the one he had to offer—which would likely result in more times just like this, where a community disliked him and disliked her too as a result.
“I think . . .” He hesitated. “I think . . .”
She set aside the skirt from her lap and then stood abruptly. “It’s okay, Thatcher. Just say it—that I’m not good enough for you.”
“Not good enough?” He kept his voice gentle and calm, as he’d learned to do in stressful situations with hurt animals. “That’s not true at all.”
Her beautiful features were creased with distress.
He pushed up from his chair. Every muscle strained to go to her and draw her into his arms. But he had no right to do that anymore. He’d never had the right.
“You can admit it.” She lifted her chin as though to brace herself. “I know I’m not the woman you expected or wanted—”
“You’re more than I expected.” And that was the trouble. She was so much more beautiful and independent and helpful and compassionate and interesting than he’d ever imagined. And now that he’d experienced life with her, he couldn’t imagine going a single day without her.
“More?” She scoffed. “Yes, I have more problems and issues and a baby that isn’t yours.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Eileen will probably be the perfect wife you need. If she were here instead of me, she would have decorated for Christmas, baked you a pie, bought you a present, and made your life more festive.” Amelia waved a hand around at the cabin as if that somehow made her point.
But if anything, it only made him all the sadder that he might have to marry Eileen instead. “I don’t want someone to decorate or bake or buy me a present. Those things aren’t important to me.”
“She obviously had qualities that attracted you, that you wanted in a wife, or you wouldn’t have sent away for her.”
“True enough.” He had liked Eileen through her letters. She’d seemed caring and kind and a woman of solid character. He’d thought they shared some similarities and wanted the same things out of life. She probably was a good person and would make a decent wife.
The trouble was that she wasn’t Amelia.
“You’ll have a good life with her.” Her voice was raw.
“You don’t know that.”
“You’re an easy-going person with a big heart. You get along with everyone, and I know you’ll get along with her.”
Why was Amelia trying so hard to convince him to have Eileen? Was it because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings by telling him that she wanted to separate from him? That the disgrace and the dishonor he’d brought on himself were more than she could bear going through again and again?
A sharp pain sliced through his heart. He should have known falling in love with Amelia at first sight was too good to be true.
He couldn’t hang on to her if she wanted a different life than the one he could offer her. He would be selfish to try to convince her to stay married when he could only offer her instability and uncertainty.
After all she’d gone through with her first marriage, she deserved better than that, and he couldn’t stand in the way of her having a respectable and happy life.
As much as he wanted to ask her to stay with him and remain married, he couldn’t suggest it.
He didn’t want her to feel obligated or coerced into anything.
Besides, if they kept their marriage, what would they say to Eileen when she arrived? How could he explain she’d come all that distance—hundreds of miles—but he didn’t want her anymore and she would have to go back to New York City?
He couldn’t say that. He was too much of a man of honor to absolve himself of his responsibility to her.
She might be willing to look for another husband in Breckenridge. Other men would probably be happy to step in and marry her in his stead. But that wouldn’t be fair of him to put that task upon her, especially if she had her heart set on marrying him.
“It was an honest mistake.” Thatcher spoke the words almost as if he could convince Eileen.
He hadn’t meant to betray her, hadn’t meant to cause her problems. Was it terrible of him to hope he’d get a letter from her soon letting him know that the reason she hadn’t come yet was because she’d changed her mind?
If Beckett insisted on having Amelia, how would everyone in the community respond?
Would it cause more scandal? Hurt Amelia’s reputation?
Bring her more dishonor? Even if Thatcher offered her an annulment and claimed they’d remained chaste, they had been married for close to two weeks, and people would probably speculate and gossip about them.
“I agree that the mix-up was a mistake,” Amelia said quietly. “So what do we do next? How do we right the wrong?”
What was the best thing to do for Amelia? Her happiness and her secure future were more important than anything else. But what would make her the happiest? Breaking off their union so she didn’t have to live with his dishonor? Or breaking off their union and causing her dishonor anyway?
“What is the right thing, Thatcher?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think there is an easy or right answer.”
As she lifted her gaze to his, something in her eyes seemed to reach out and plead with him not to hurt her.
She’d been hurt too many times already in her short life.
This time, he had to do whatever he could to make sure she wasn’t harmed again, even if that decision meant he would lose her and bring himself pain in the process.
Her hand trembled as she lowered herself back into her chair. “Could we wait until after Christmas to make the decision on what to do?”
Christmas was in only two days. Could they have until the New Year? But even as the question pushed to the tip of his tongue, he knew they couldn’t delay until then. The longer they lived together, the harder it would be to annul their marriage without causing her damage.
“Okay.” He ought to ride over and talk to Beckett today. But he would take two more days with Amelia. “I say let’s enjoy the holiday and then figure out what to do afterward.”
She leaned back, the stiffness easing from her body. “Thank you.”
“I’ll take as much time with you as I can get.” The words slipped out before he could censor them.
Her eyes swung back to his, her long lashes framing her wide eyes. Was that a flicker of hope?
Was it possible she’d begun to care about him too? Was it possible she didn’t want to leave him but felt obligated to fulfill her commitment to Beckett?
He didn’t know. But he’d bought himself two more days. Two days to pray for a Christmas miracle.