Chapter Twelve
Daniel climbed down from the cart, his boots hitting the ground with a thud.
The air around the cabin had shifted, thick and tense, sending a chill down his spine.
Something was wrong. He’d been standing outside, giving Edith the space she needed, but the faint sound of raised voices, sharp and angry, drifted through the open window of the cabin.
“Pa, no!” Daniel heard Edith cry.
Then came a crash and a strangled cry from Edith, making Daniel wonder if William had struck Edith.
The knot in Daniel’s stomach tightened, and without another second of hesitation, he strode toward the cabin, his boots pounding against the hard earth as his heart raced.
The wooden door groaned as he shoved it open, and the scene before him made the blood in his veins turn to ice.
Edith’s father, William, stood looming over her, his large frame swaying, his eyes wild and bloodshot.
Edith cowered before him, her shoulders hunched as if she were trying to disappear into herself.
Her face was pale, her breath shallow. The fire in the hearth raged with fresh fuel.
He didn’t need much to piece together what had happened.
For a split second, he took in the state of the cabin.
The sight that greeted him made him feel sick to his stomach.
The small, dimly lit space was cluttered with broken furniture, a threadbare rug worn through to the dirt floor, and rough log walls were stained with years of neglect.
The air was thick with the staleness of decay.
He noted the corner where a dirty straw mattress lay on the dirt floor, barely covered with a thin blanket.
It was hard to imagine anyone growing up in a place like this, let alone Edith, who had spent her entire life trapped within these suffocating walls.
Edith’s father turned at the sound of the door slamming open. For a moment, his sneer faltered as he registered Daniel’s presence, but it didn’t take long for the familiar arrogance to return. His lips twisted into a cruel smile, the gleam in his eyes growing sharper, more dangerous.
“What’re you doin’ here?” William slurred, taking a slow step toward Daniel but keeping his gaze locked on Edith. “This ain’t your business, Maggie. Go on, get back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”
Daniel felt a surge of anger rise in his chest, his muscles tensing.
Every fiber of his being screamed to drag this man out of the cabin and make him pay for what he had done—for the fear he had put in Edith’s eyes.
But he forced himself to remain calm, his fists clenched at his sides.
This wasn’t about him. It was about keeping Edith safe.
“Step away from her,” Daniel said, his voice low and controlled, but the warning in his tone was unmistakable. He took a step forward, positioning himself between William and Edith.
William barked out a rough, humorless laugh, the sound grating against Daniel’s nerves. The greasy strands of William’s unkempt hair danced across his forehead as he laughed.
“What, you think you’re her savior now? Ya think ya can just waltz in here and steal from me?” His voice was thick with contempt, the words slurring together as he swayed on his feet.
Daniel didn’t waver. “She’s not yours. She was never yours to begin with. Step away from her.”
Edith’s father’s expression darkened, the drunken haze in his eyes giving way to a dangerous, volatile snarl.
“You’d better watch your mouth,” he growled, his voice rising with every word.
He took a staggering step forward, his fists clenching at his sides.
“I raised her. I fed her. Everything in this house, everything she has—it’s mine. You hear me? Mine!”
Daniel stood firm, his gaze locked on William’s, refusing to back down. “You sold her like livestock,” he said, his voice even but laced with disgust. “She’s not your property.”
The words seemed to strike a nerve. William’s face twisted with fury, his bloodshot eyes narrowing as he took another step forward, his breath reeking of alcohol.
“Yer one to talk,” he snarled, his voice low and dangerous.
“What kind of man sends his bride to sneak into another man’s house to beg for her things?
Can’t even buy her new clothes, huh? Pathetic. ”
Daniel’s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice calm, refusing to rise to the bait. “Are you really that petty?” he asked, his tone biting. “What do you need with these dresses, William? You plan on wearing them down Main Street?”
“You don’t get to walk in here and tell me what’s what, boy,” William yelled, his voice thick with venom. “This is my house. My things. And she—” he pointed a shaking finger at Edith, “—she’s worthless. Always has been.”
Edith moved behind Daniel, taking shelter from her father’s rage. She stood frozen behind him, her eyes wide, her body trembling. She looked like a cornered animal, which only fueled Daniel’s anger further.
“Come on, Daniel, let’s go,” Edith whispered, tugging on Daniel’s arm.
He couldn’t let William’s words get to him, not when Edith needed him to stay composed. “She’s leaving,” he said, his voice hard. “And you’re not stopping her.”
“She’s nothing but a burden,” William repeated drunkenly. “A lazy little girl who can’t stand on her own two feet. You’ll see. She’s broken. Useless.”
Daniel realized William was still so drunk that he couldn’t remember what he had already said, repeatedly reusing the same insults.
“You’re a coward,” Daniel said, his voice low but filled with quiet fury. “You sold your own daughter, threw her out like she was nothing. You’re the worthless one, not her.”
The words hit William like a slap, and his face turned a deep shade of red, his eyes bulging with rage. His eyes darted wildly between Edith and Daniel, flabbergasted at Daniel’s resistance.
“You son of a—” William started, but before he finished, he lunged at Daniel, his fist swinging wildly.
But Daniel was faster. He sidestepped the blow, his hand shooting out to shove William back.
The older man stumbled, his balance thrown off by the alcohol, and he crashed into the wall with a heavy thud.
Edith took the opportunity to scatter away from him.
For a moment, the cabin fell silent, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the harsh breaths coming from William as he struggled to get back on his feet. Edith remained frozen in place, her eyes wide with fear and shock.
“Look at how she cowers, the blubbing wretch,” William spat, pushing himself away from the wall. “You must think you’re some big hero, protecting her from me. She know how ya got those scars, Maggie? I heard rumors, betcha ain’t told her ‘bout that.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Daniel argued, trying to push down his own desire to strike William, especially with Edith watching. He doubted William knew the truth, which meant whatever he said would be a lie to try to poison Edith against him.
“Oh yeah, I sure betcha she wouldn’t want stick ‘round once she knew. Then again, maybe y’all deserve each other,” William continued in a sick, taunting tone.
“Does it make you feel better to insult her like that?” Daniel growled at him. “Must be so hard on you not to have someone to kick around anymore to make you feel better.”
William took another step forward, his fists raised, his expression full of drunken arrogance.
“I said, get out!” he roared, his voice echoing through the small cabin as he slammed his fist against the wall with a loud crack.
The sound reverberated in the tight space, making Edith flinch.
Her father kicked over a chair, sending it crashing to the floor with a deafening clatter.
“Get out of my house!” he screamed, his face contorted with fury.
Daniel didn’t move. His stance was solid, unyielding, as he placed himself squarely between Edith and the man who had tormented her for years. “She’s leaving,” Daniel said evenly, though his hands itched to strike out at the man before him. “You’re not going to hurt her anymore.”
William’s sneer deepened, his eyes flicking to Edith, who stood trembling behind Daniel. “She’s a worthless, sniveling little girl,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “Always was. Just like her mother.”
At that, Edith visibly winced, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. Daniel glanced over his shoulder at her, and his chest tightened. The pain on her face was unmistakable, and it made his blood boil.
“You think you’re doin’ her a favor, takin’ her in?
” William growled, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble.
“You’re just a fool. She’s broken. She’ll never be anything but an invalid.
And you?” He looked Daniel up and down, his gaze landing on the scar that cut across his face.
“You’re no better. A monster with scars, look at you. You deserve each other.”
Daniel’s muscles tensed, his anger rising to the surface, but he forced himself to remain calm. He couldn’t let William’s words get to him—not now. He needed to get Edith out of there, away from this man who had caused her so much pain.
“Come on,” Daniel muttered under his breath, his voice gentle as he reached for Edith’s arm. He felt her flinch, her body trembling under his touch, but she didn’t resist. She let him guide her toward the door, her steps slow and hesitant.
As they reached the doorway, William’s voice rose again, louder and more vicious. “She’s nothin’ but a pathetic little thing! You’ll see soon enough. And you, you scarred-up freak—you’re no man. No real man would want her, and no woman would want you.”
The words sliced through the air, heavy with malice, but Daniel didn’t let them linger. He stepped outside, helping Edith up onto the cart, his hands steady despite the storm brewing inside him. Once seated, he climbed up beside her, glancing back at the cabin one last time.
William stood in the doorway, his face flushed with anger, his fists still clenched at his sides. He watched them leave, his shouts growing fainter as the cart rolled forward, taking them away from the cabin and the darkness that had consumed it.
Daniel flicked the reins, urging the horse into a steady trot. He didn’t say anything at first, letting the silence settle between them.
“You all right?” he asked softly, his voice calmer than he felt.
Edith nodded, though her hands still trembled in her lap. “I’m fine,” she whispered, but Daniel could hear the strain in her voice. She wasn’t fine. Not yet.
The cart bumped along the dirt road, and William’s words echoed in his mind, calling him a monster. Daniel gripped the reins tighter than necessary.
He glanced at Edith. She sat stiffly beside him, her hands still trembling. She’d been through hell, and now, he couldn’t help but wonder—what if she believed it too? What if, one day, she saw him the way William did?
His gaze flicked back to the cabin, now a distant shadow. Could he protect her from more than just William? Could he protect her from the scars he carried—inside and out?