Chapter Eight
Josie Callahan, now Josie Blythe, felt her stomach tighten with each passing second, desperately trying to suppress the urge to vomit.
Bile rose in her throat and her hands and neck grew clammy when nightfall came.
She sat alone in the children’s room, her eyes fixed on the nightgown packed in her suitcase that Aunt Tia gave her for this very moment.
Deep down, she wanted to deny that the day had come, but it was happening now—there was no escaping it.
She had fulfilled the first step of marrying Travis, but the next step was far too daunting to bear.
With the children at Aunt Polly’s for the night, it was the perfect opportunity to execute her plan.
Think about the baby. Do you want him or her to grow up fatherless?
Do you want to disgrace Travis’s sweet family with a baby everybody knows isn’t his?
There wasn’t much time. She could save herself with an early delivery as an excuse, but waiting too long would make the lie even harder to believe.
Would Travis believe it? Knowing him for three days, she observed him to be smarter than that.
The front cabin door closed. Travis had returned from checking on the wheat.
His footsteps echoed down the hallway, and she heard the soft creak of his bedroom door opening.
Placing her hand on her stomach, she took steady breaths, inhaling and exhaling to calm herself.
Her heart pounded like the clip-clop of hooves, carrying her back to a stagecoach ride.
But this was her last stop to seal her child’s destiny—and her security. Now or never, Josephine.
Was Travis expecting her to come to his room?
They hadn’t discussed this part of their arrangement.
Would they share the same room? Would she stay with the children and he in the master bedroom?
Josie glanced at the ticking clock on the children’s nightstand.
She chewed on her short nails. Was Travis waiting for her to join him?
Travis seemed shy, so maybe he was waiting for her to make the first move.
Josie didn’t want to make the first move, but it was a matter of having to.
Another minute ticked by, and Josie’s nerves twisted, tapping her fingers on the oak bed rail. It was getting late, and church would be early. There wouldn’t be much time for intimacy if they waited any longer.
Josie changed into her nightdress, her hands quivering with every movement.
Glancing in the mirror, she blushed at her reflection.
The light pink chemise clung to her, and the neckline dipped much lower than she was comfortable with.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in her stomach.
At least the cabin is dark, she thought, but that thought quickly faded.
She’d be bare soon anyway—what was the point of hiding?
Josie combed her fingers through her curls, trying to appear more presentable. She adjusted her hair carefully, draping it over her chest in an attempt to add a layer of modesty. Her pulse calmed slightly. She placed a hand against her abdomen. “This is for you,” she whispered.
She considered grabbing a shawl to ease her discomfort, but a voice in her head urged her on.
He’s your husband. Toughen up. At last, she opened her bedroom door and tiptoed across the weakening floorboards.
Gritting her teeth, she reached for the doorknob, her heart thundering in her chest. It seemed as if it were pulsing loudly enough to drown out all other sounds.
But she survived worse. Seducing the husband she hardly knew was nothing compared to the horrid things she had already endured.
Josie swallowed her pride and cracked open the door, peeking into the dimly lit room.
Travis stood with his back to her, rummaging through the drawers.
The moment he turned around, a feverish heat flooded Josie’s cheeks, coursing through every fiber of her being.
Travis’s mouth hung open in surprise, his face paling as their eyes met.
Silence stood between them—a silence that was not pleasant. Travis broke the stillness, glancing down at the floor as he cleared his throat, running his fingers through his hair.
“I apologize. I . . . I just—” he stammered, his voice trailing off for a moment. “I came to gather my things . . .”
Josie’s breath hitched and looked down. She moved the rest of her hair in front of her chest for privacy. “I’m sorry I . . . I didn’t—”
“No, I’m sorry,” Travis said as he stepped forward, his eyes still downcast. With a shaking hand, he handed her a coat that was folded on the bed. Josie took it quickly, immediately wrapping it around her. It practically swallowed her form.
What are you doing, Josie? You must fight for this.
This is your child you’re talking about.
Josie could almost hear Aunt Tia’s voice in her head, begging her to try harder.
Travis sat on the bed and folded his hands.
Before she could speak, or at least say something she hoped might lead to a conversation, Travis interrupted her.
“I apologize. Strongly. It’s my fault I avoided the conversation of our .
. . marital arrangements.” Travis cleared his throat and coughed again.
“I decided to move into the loft while you and the children stay in the cabin. I am sorry if this confused you with Aunt Polly taking the children. I-I didn’t know she would do that. ”
Josie considered more to say, but she was rendered speechless, her mouth lacking moisture, barely allowing her to form a single word.
The air grew thick and the room hot, just like her face and neck.
How could she think that doing this would save her child?
Seducing Travis was a lost hope. Aunt Tia was wrong—this wouldn’t save her; this would be the end of her and the man she married.
She was no better than Marcus, conniving and manipulative.
Tell him. Tell him before it’s too late. But how could she tell him now? They had been wedded hours ago. He would put her out on the streets and seek an annulment. Josie would be alone and vulnerable. How could she offer her child safety then?
“I’m sorry for . . . being confused.”
Travis shook his head. “No, don’t be. I am the one who should be blamed, blamed for everything. You deserved a proper wedding like girls dream. You also deserve a proper wedding night, but I . . . I cannot give it to you.”
Josie looked down, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear. “It doesn’t matter to me.” But it does, Josie. Think of your baby. Its life depends on this night.
“It does matter,” Travis said sharply. “A family isn’t enough for you.”
Josie took a step forward, gripping the coat more tightly around her body.
“A family is enough for me.” She bit back the half-lie.
She wanted to say what her heart screamed.
I just need your cooperation, Travis. To save me—to save us all.
Instead, she continued what she could say.
“This family has welcomed me with open arms, and I don’t deserve it.
I feel like . . . I feel like I’ve known your children forever. ”
Travis sniffed and rubbed his nose. “Don’t give up on them, please. Ivy she . . . she is having a tough time, but she’ll come around.”
“I understand. I would have felt the same way if my father had remarried.”
Travis patted his thighs and stood. “I must go.”
He didn’t hesitate, swiftly gathering his clothes with an urgency that left no room for second thoughts.
Before Josie could even muster a protest, he was out the door, closing it firmly behind him.
Josie clutched the coat tightly around her petite frame, the warmth doing little to soothe the chill creeping through her bones.
For the first time in what felt like ages, she let her tears flow freely.
She had one option now, knowing Travis couldn’t be seduced. She’d have to tell him the truth and be at his mercy. Even so, how could she—knowing there was a possibility her child would be at risk?
Tomorrow would be a new day, and she’d try again. She’d fight for this baby, even if it meant more humility and shame.