Chapter Twenty-Nine
Grace was a sensible woman who had been courted before and knew some of the signs of a man who was falling in love.
She had been able to put the pieces together when Ethan had joined her under the stars that night.
He had brought her flowers because he was infatuated with her.
It must be infatuation; Grace refused to acknowledge the part of her which feared it might be more like love.
No, this was just a passing fancy, but it was a dangerous one. Infatuation led to proposals.
At first, Grace had tried to tell herself that she’d only imagined how awkwardly Ethan had behaved that night. After all, why should she assume that Ethan hadn’t just brought her flowers because he cared for her as a friend?
But that had been a week ago. Ethan had brought her flowers every day since then, and Grace’s throat grew tight as she found the latest offering, sprigs of red and orange blossoms tied together with twine and placed in her family’s wagon.
She had to put an end to this before he fell in love with her.
Grace could not reciprocate. She had fallen in love once before, and it had ended disastrously. If she let herself love again…
It might be wonderful. It might be awful. Either way, she could not risk her heart again.
She’d tried to avoid Ethan, but the continued appearance of flowers made it clear that he didn’t understand. Grace groaned and rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. She had to speak with him. That was the only way she’d be able to make Ethan see why this had to stop.
“You look mighty frustrated for a woman who’s just received flowers,” came Ethan’s voice from behind her.
Grace straightened her spine and tried to decipher his tone. The comment was teasing, but his voice was not. He sounded almost cold, or maybe a little hurt? Grace reluctantly turned around and reached behind her, curling her fingers around the familiar wood of the wagon for stability.
Ethan stared at her, his hazel eyes so intense that Grace imagined he could see directly into her soul.
She couldn’t help but notice the rest of his face—the way his dark brown hair fell into his eyes, the way his neatly trimmed beard emphasized his strong jaw, and the high cheekbones that gave his face a dignified look.
If Ethan had been born in another time and place, a famous artist might have sculpted that face out of marble.
“Have I upset you?” Ethan asked.
Grace shook her head, her mind racing. She had wanted to talk to him about this, but she hadn’t imagined the confrontation happening so soon! Grace bit the inside of her cheek, trying to decide how to salvage the situation without breaking Ethan’s heart.
“Why would I be upset about flowers?”
Ethan shook his head. “I wish I knew. Why don’t you tell me?”
She leaned back against the wagon and sighed. “It isn’t the flowers. It’s what they mean.”
“And what do you think that is?”
Grace looked away, unable to meet his eyes. Guilt writhed like a snake inside her chest. She had to tell him the truth, even though she wanted to do anything except that. Grace swallowed hard, steeling herself.
“I assume some kind of affection towards me.”
“And is that a problem?” Ethan sounded as if he was choosing his words very carefully, and every one of those words was like a knife twisting in Grace’s heart. “Is it because you’d prefer someone else?”
Grace shook her head. “No, it’s— No, you are—”
He was wonderful. The realization struck her like lightning. He respected her. Her daughter liked this man, and he was kind to her. Even Grace’s father had begun to look at Ethan with a gruff sort of respect instead of cold distrust.
And Grace liked him. She liked his family, too. When she thought about the facts, it seemed obvious that she should accept this man’s affections. He could be her new beginning, her second chance to have the love she’d always wanted.
“No,” said Grace. “You deserve better than me. I would only hold you back, Ethan.”
Ethan let out a bark of incredulous laughter. “Hold me back? You?”
“Yes.”
“If anything, I would be holding you back. I know my family isn’t as wealthy as yours, and that maybe I can’t take care of you the way that some men might.
” The way he said ‘some men’ made Grace suspect that there was a particular person Ethan had in mind.
“But I will love you more than any man ever could, and I will work hard to give you a happy life.”
Grace’s eyes burned and she looked away.
Silently, she prayed for anyone to join them and—and do something.
She wanted to sink through the ground and disappear.
Ethan had backed her into a corner. The only way she could justify her rejection was by revealing her secret, but he would detest her if she did.
Grace knew that his scorn was inevitable, but she could not bear him detesting her while they were still traveling the Bozeman Trail together.
“I have never thought poorly of you because you don’t have as much money as I do,” she said softly. “But there’s—there is something you do not know about me. Something I haven’t told you, or anyone.”
“You can tell me anything,” he insisted. “I do not care what it is, Grace. I would never judge you for anything you’ve done.”
“No, I can’t tell you. Ethan, you are a good man. A kind man. But there are limits to every man’s kindness, even yours.”
Even if he didn’t judge Grace for her past or her lies, what would happen if someone else learned the truth?
Ethan would be shamed alongside her, and Grace could never let that happen.
He deserved better. Ethan should have a wife who wasn’t touched by scandal like she was.
He deserved a good woman, one who hadn’t made her mistakes.
Besides, when Ethan realized Grace was not that woman, she would lose him.
Ethan shook his head. “You can’t possibly be hiding anything that terrible.”
“I am,” she insisted. “And if you knew, I promise you wouldn’t want me anymore. You’d realize that the risks are too great.”
“What risks?” He took a step forward, his expression somewhere between anger and concern. “Nothing you say could change my feelings for you.”
“You’re wrong,” she said.
“Tell me, Grace,” said Ethan. “I will prove you wrong.”
Grace shook her head. “No. Even if I wanted to tell you, it wouldn’t matter. You might think you are willing to forgive me for my secrets, but you won’t.”
“Grace.” He raised a hand, as if to take hers, but Grace jerked away and swept around the side of the wagon.
“No,” Grace said. “No, I— Leave me alone. I am flattered, Ethan, but I can’t—”
“What if I asked you to marry me?” he asked, his expression intent and curious. “I’m a man of my word. If I say I will marry you—”
Why had he asked that? There didn’t seem to be enough air in the world. “No!” she snapped, heat rising to her face. “I do not want to marry you.”
Ethan’s face fell. Grace choked down the apology that rose instinctively in her throat. She turned on her heel and stormed away, nearly breaking into a run as her pulse thundered inside her skull. She had to get away from Ethan, from everyone.
She needed…
She needed something. Her mind was awhirl with the question of marriage. Maybe he had only asked out of curiosity, wanting to see what her response would be, but the suggestion—the offer—rang like a church bell inside her head.
She needed space. Ethan was a good man who loved her, and Grace had just callously refused him.
His distraught expression was burned into her mind.
Tears burned in her eyes. Grace dug her nails into the palms of her hands as she left behind the trail and the long stretch of grass and flowers, heading instead towards the rocky terrain around the corner.
It put her just out of sight of camp, so there would be no one there to see her—
Grace kept walking, following the edge of a vast stone cliffside. Her throat and chest were tight. She walked for so long that a stitch formed in her side, and still she kept walking. Grace was dimly aware that she couldn’t go too far, though, lest she lose her way.
Marriage. Why did he even ask that?
She rubbed her face roughly, forcing away the hot tears that filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
Grace had refused Ethan’s offer to marry her, and that ought to be the end of it.
There could be no more apparent way of assuring a man that she wasn’t romantically interested in him.
Her heart ached at the finality of that.
Instead, she imagined herself in a little church with her father and Emily.
She imagined herself wearing her peach silk dress, her hair done up with flowers the same way that Kate’s had been.
Her heart raced when she imagined Ethan standing before the pulpit and her father escorting her to him.
And after they were wed, what would it be like?
Emily would be delighted. She would call Ethan her father and fling herself into his arms when she returned from school each day.
Grace would make their house feel like home.
She would cook the most nourishing meals for them and keep everything clean and neat.
She would embroider little flowers, pansies and marigolds and roses, onto the curtains and pillows.
Maybe there would even be another child.
Grace shook her head. “Enough,” she hissed at herself, as if she might force her thoughts to turn away from that beautiful image of herself as a bride. As Mrs. Ethan Walker.
She took another step, when suddenly the ground beneath her disintegrated entirely.
Grace screamed as she fell down. She struck the rough rocks and loose gravel with her boots and her legs, and a stinging warmth spread through one of them.
The world seemed to be spinning too slowly and too quickly all at the same time as Grace slid and tumbled down a stretch of rocky ground.
It was all dry, loose dirt and uneven earth, and she flailed wildly in a vain attempt to slow her descent.
A large red and white rock loomed in her vision, and Grace stretched out a hand. She wasn’t sure whether she wished to grab the rock or push herself away from it. Grace just didn’t want to get hurt. Before she could decide, her shoulder struck the sizeable boulder.
She gasped raggedly in pain and collapsed. Her head struck the ground. Darkness obscured her vision, and her breath was forced from her lungs. For a heartbeat, there was stillness, a numbness that spread through her entire being. But pain quickly followed.
Grace gasped and curled up in a ball. Everything hurt.
She blinked back tears and peered upwards, her mind aching and slow to put together the story of what had just happened to her.
Grace had been walking along the path, but the ground had given way.
The wagon train had been up in the mountains, and she’d fallen down an incline.
Grace rolled onto her back and screamed, her spine aching in protest.
She lay there for some time, trying to catch her breath and make sense of why everything hurt so badly. Nothing was coming together properly, and she found her thoughts returning again to what had happened.
Grace squinted at the trail far above her.
It was too steep for a horse, and probably too steep for her to climb back up.
She took a deep breath and sat up, feeling something hot trickling down the back of her neck.
Grace gulped and raised a shaking hand to the back of her head. Her fingers were wet.
When she held her hand in front of her face, her worst fear was confirmed. Blood.
A sob tore from Grace’s throat, and the world shifted. It was like being on a boat, rocked side to side by the waves. Grace lay back down and curled onto her side.
She could not believe Ethan had asked to marry her.
Thinking was very hard.
“I fell,” she rasped.
The world around her was quiet.
“I went away from camp.”
Fear shot through her, and she squeezed her eyes shut before her mind could conjure any more terrors. The Bozeman Trail was dangerous, and there were any number of ways that a lone, injured woman might meet a horrific end.
“Ethan knows that I left.”
Not just Ethan. Her father and Emily would notice her absence if she was gone for too long. They would look for her.
“And I…” Grace trailed off, struggling to focus.
When she opened her eyes again, her vision was strange. Everything was blurred and white around the edges. Grace squinted, trying to focus on the shape of what might have been a tree, but she couldn’t be sure.
“I need to…stay awake.”
She pressed a hand against the back of her head, a sharp pain shooting through her skull as she did so. Grace sobbed and forced herself to keep her hand there. She needed to stop the blood from flowing.
She—
Grace was so tired, so very tired. She let her hand drop and listened to her own shallow breaths working their way through her chest. Everything hurt. She just needed to rest for a little while.
That was all. She would rest and feel better and then go back to camp.
And if not, someone was bound to come for her. Eventually.