Chapter Twenty-Seven
Grace frowned and stared at the small enamel box as if it had personally offended her.
The box held her hair ribbons and jewelry, most of which Grace hadn’t worn since they’d started on the Bozeman Trail.
She was going to sit with Ethan for a while, so she’d thought that she might like to look, well, nice.
Grace told herself that she wanted to look nice to lift his spirits.
She didn’t entirely believe that reason herself, but there was nothing wrong with a woman wanting to look her best, was there?
She’d wanted to wear one of her brooches, a silver lily that would look especially pretty with her soft gray dress, but the brooch was nowhere to be found.
Had she worn it previously and forgotten to return it to the box?
Had Emily borrowed it or played with it and not put it back in the right place?
Grace closed the box and shook her head, laughing a little at herself.
If Ethan knew she was worrying over something as trivial as a brooch, Grace was sure he’d tease her.
She decided to forget about it for now, stepping down from the family wagon and walking over to the Walkers’.
Hannah was nearby, hauling a heavy bucket of water with her.
“Grace!” Hannah exclaimed. “Come to see my brother, I imagine?”
Grace nodded, warmth rushing to her face. She’d come to see Ethan several times since he’d gotten sick, trading places with Hannah so they could ensure he was cared for while all the chores still got done.
“How is he?” Grace asked.
“A bit better,” replied Hannah, her face softening. “He’s been sleeping a lot, which is good for him.”
“Hopefully he’ll be back on his feet soon.”
“I hope so.”
Grace, who’d been taking care of her father, knew that it couldn’t be easy for Hannah, trying to drive the wagon while looking after her ailing brother.
“How is Bill?” asked Hannah.
He’d taken over driving the wagon for Grace. She shrugged. “Fine, I suppose.”
Grace hadn’t really talked to him much. Learning to drive the wagon was a challenge she’d only attempted with Ethan, and something about practicing it with another man left her feeling unsettled.
“He’s nice enough,” Grace offered. “We don’t talk much, but he’s…courteous. I suppose. Respectful.”
He always greeted her with a tip of his hat and a polite comment about how nice she looked. While driving, he’d sometimes peek into the wagon and make sure they were all doing all right. Once or twice he’d regaled Emily with a few of his stories from all the places he’d been.
Grace wasn’t entirely sure Bill had been everywhere that he said he’d been—shooting bears in Colorado, hunting alligators in Florida’s swamps, and going on grand adventures in the Appalachian Mountains—but she knew that men sometimes exaggerated.
And it all seemed rather harmless. Emily listened with rapt attention, even though there weren’t, as she’d once observed, many ladies in the stories.
Bill had chuckled and told her that those stories weren’t meant for young girls.
A prickle of unease had shot down Grace’s spine at that.
That comment made her think that Bill didn’t seem like the sort of man she’d want around her daughter regularly.
She’d thought he was respectable at first, but she was beginning to have her doubts.
Grace supposed there were worse flaws for a man to have, though.
He’d agreed to drive her wagon while Ethan recovered, after all, and for no compensation at all.
“I’ll bring you some food,” Hannah said.
“I appreciate it.”
Hannah smiled, and Grace pulled herself into the wagon.
It was dark, and Ethan was nearly buried beneath a mound of quilts.
Grace smiled and settled beside him. She put her hand to his forehead and let out a sigh of relief.
He was still a little warm, but he was no longer burning up and drenched in sweat.
Grace smiled. “You know,” she murmured to him. “I should have realized that you would be asleep. Why did I care so much about what I might look like when I came to see you? It isn’t as if a man can appreciate a woman’s looks while he’s asleep.”
Grace glanced around and found the nearby basin filled with water. She wet a cloth, wrung it out, and gently dabbed at Ethan’s forehead. His brow furrowed and his nose wrinkled as she did. Grace froze, thinking that she might have disturbed his sleep, but he didn’t wake.
A dream, then.
Grace smiled gently and sat back. She’d prayed over him for the first few days. Now she sent a silent thanks to God that her prayers had been answered. Ethan was recovering well.
He shifted under the quilts, moving his shoulders as if he was attempting to escape the confines of the fabric. Grace reached down and adjusted the quilts a little, removing one in case Ethan was hot. A low mumbling came from his throat, and Grace strained to hear what it might be.
“Logan.”
She blinked, taken aback. As far as she could remember, there wasn’t a “Logan” in their party. Who did he mean then? Grace couldn’t remember Ethan ever mentioning a man named Logan from his childhood either.
“Logan!” The cry was sharp and distraught this time. Grace jumped back and instinctively pressed a hand against her chest, as if she could calm her racing heart with just that. Ethan flailed, trapped by the quilts.
Grace inhaled sharply and shook his shoulder. “Ethan! Ethan, it’s a nightmare.”
“Logan!” he shouted. “Logan!”
Ethan tossed and turned in his sleep, throwing the quilts everywhere.
Grace shook his shoulders again, her pulse racing and her heart in her throat.
Ethan’s eyes snapped open and he threw an arm out suddenly, catching her in the chest. Grace fell back into the wall of the wagon and caught herself on her arms, hissing between her teeth as pain jolted through her elbows.
Their heavy breaths, both hers and Ethan’s, filled the air, as if the world itself was panting for breath.
Ethan’s eyes snapped to her, and a look of horror crossed his face. “Grace!”
She smiled tightly and sat upright, rubbing one elbow. The pain was an afterthought now that Ethan was awake and alert. “That’s right. You’re safe with me in your family’s wagon. I’m so sorry, Ethan. You were having what seemed like a dreadful nightmare, and I startled you.”
He took a shaky breath and raked a hand through his hair. “No, no. I struck you. I am so, so sorry. I—”
Grace shook her head. “Please don’t apologize. I know you didn’t mean to.”
She had been struck before by a man who meant it, and she knew this wasn’t the same.
Ethan had been caught unawares, and that was no one’s fault, just an unfortunate accident.
Still, he looked far from soothed by her remark.
Grace self-consciously clasped her hands in her lap in case rubbing at her aching elbow might make his guilt worse.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Grace asked.
Ethan let out a disbelieving laugh. “Of course not.”
“I think maybe you should. You seemed…very distressed.”
Ethan only averted his gaze and curled his fingers into the quilts, seemingly fascinated by them.
Grace raised her hand, moving to touch him in order to offer some measure of comfort, but she froze a hairsbreadth away from him. Ethan was a strong and proud man. He might find it condescending to be offered that small bit of comfort. Grace returned her hands to her lap and sighed quietly.
“You seemed devastated,” she said. “I think you really ought to talk about it. I’d like to share the burden, if I may be so bold.”
Ethan frowned. His shoulders slumped, and he suddenly looked as if the weight of the entire world was resting on his shoulders. “You’re probably right,” he mumbled, giving her a resigned look.
Grace settled more comfortably into the wagon, her knee brushing against his own briefly. Even though there were at least three layers of quilts between their knees, plus their many layers of clothing, that small bit of contact still sent a jolt of warmth coursing through Grace.
“Who was Logan?” Grace asked, keeping her voice gentle.
“He was my friend,” Ethan said, his brow knitted with worry.
“One of my very few friends. He even stuck with me after Pa left us. It was— I don’t know that I’ve ever really— It was hard.
Sometimes, it became too hard to manage, but I felt like I had to be strong for Ma and Hannah.
I couldn’t tell them that I was tired. I knew it would upset them and make them feel guilty. So I always went to Logan.”
Grace blinked hard to force back her gathering tears.
Ethan had grown into an admirable man, but in that moment she imagined him young and so very tired, trying his best to take care of his mother and sister when he was barely more than a child himself.
It broke her heart that his life had been so difficult.
Considering he’d called out Logan’s name in the throes of a terrible nightmare, Grace suspected that there were still many more difficulties in Ethan’s life than she knew of, and she was about to learn of one of them.
“We worked together managing herds for one of the local ranchers,” Ethan said.
“I was determined to prove myself, so I worked as hard as I could. Logan and I were in the field together one day. I was young, nineteen or so. Logan was about the same age. We were working together on a cattle drive. It was something we’d done many times before. ”
Grace’s chest ached, and she bit the inside of her cheek.
Already, she had an idea of how this story ended, now that she had an idea of the circumstances.
Ethan’s eyes had taken on a faraway look, and he fell silent.
Grace waited for him to continue, realizing how hard it must be for him to talk about this, even a decade later.
“I gave him some risky orders, and he followed them. Of course he did.” Ethan inhaled deeply, his fingers curling so tightly in the quilt that his knuckles became white. “There was a stampede, and Logan was killed. It was all my fault.”
“No,” Grace said. “No, it wasn’t your fault.”
Ethan gave her a watery smile. “It was. If I hadn’t told him to go to the right flank and drive the cattle there, he would’ve never—he would still be alive.”
“You don’t know that.” Unable to restrain herself any longer, she reached out and placed her hand over his. “It was just a terrible accident. Nobody was to blame.”
Ethan shook his head. “That is kind of you to say, Grace, but it isn’t true. It was—it was a dangerous maneuver, and I knew it. I was trying to get the drive done faster, to show off how capable I was.”
“It still wasn’t your fault.” She squeezed his hand and traced her thumb over his knuckles, marveling at the strength of his hands. “I understand why you feel guilty, but it wasn’t your fault. You can’t blame yourself for everything.”
“Not everything,” said Ethan. “Only the things that are my fault.”
“I know it’s hard to forgive yourself. You may not believe this, but I’ve also made my share of mistakes.
” Grace paused, trying to decide how much to tell him.
The situations weren’t really the same; she had never blamed herself for someone’s death.
Still, she saw Charles as a mistake all the same.
“Maybe we should both agree to be kinder to ourselves.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
“We should,” Grace insisted. “If I shared my mistakes, you’d tell me not to blame myself and that they weren’t my fault.”
It was strange, but as Grace said those words, she knew they were true.
Still, she couldn’t bring herself to tell Ethan the truth.
Maybe it was just her nerves. Ethan might not blame her for marrying that awful man, but Grace had still lied to him for months.
Would anyone forgive something like that?
“So…we’re just going to tell each other to forgive ourselves?” asked Ethan, his lips twitching in amusement. “You say that like it’s the easiest thing in the world.”
Grace chuckled. “That’s life, isn’t it? It sounds easier than it is.”
“I suppose.”
“But I’ve found that most things worth having are the hardest to achieve,” Grace continued. “We should try anyway.”
“Maybe you should,” he said. “Some things cannot be forgiven, Grace.”
Grace withdrew her hand, a warm sensation lingering in her palm. It was as if she could still feel Ethan’s fingers pressed against her own. A pleasant warmth spread through her. She—
She liked him. Very much.
A cold sweep of dread followed that realization at once, filling her lungs with ice. She could not love him. The risks were too great.
Ethan was a good man, but he might still fall out of love with her.
Even if Ethan was willing to forgive her for lying about Charles and who Emily really was, Grace could not ask him to marry a disgraced woman, or a liar.
When he reached Oregon, Ethan would want to start a new life, one free of anything dark or awful.
He deserved a good woman, one who was worthy of him and untainted by scandal.
She had to give him that. She wanted that for him, even if the thought of him marrying some other woman pained her. Grace could not let herself fall any more in love with this man, or she might do something they’d all regret.