Chapter Eighteen
Henry had greeted the new brides with the same sincerity that he afforded everyone.
He was good at that. He was a great host, and an even better sheriff.
His voice was boisterous and carried over the crowd.
He was loud and jovial, and he approached the women with the bright aura of a friendly—yet clearly taken—man.
But the longer he talked to the group of women, the more his smile faltered.
He looked back at Seth, his expression one of nothing but pure confusion.
“Louise here will help you ladies get settled in!” he exclaimed in his poised politicking voice.
But Seth could see him falter. That was the face he wanted everyone to see, yet underneath the shell, there was something else unfolding.
Seth had a sinking feeling in his gut.
Something is wrong.
He caught Henry’s eye, and he watched as his expression turned grim before he quickly broke away from the women. He strode over to Seth before grabbing him by the arm of his suit and dragged him off toward the back of the hall.
“What in the world is going on?” he hissed once they were out of earshot of any bystanders. “That woman says her name is Annabelle Matthews, and she’s here with her sisters Mary and Sophie!”
Seth’s jaw tightened, his emotions exploding in his chest—worry, anger, consternation. But more than anything, he was confused.
If she is Annabelle Matthews, then who is…? He turned toward the wife he knew as Annabelle. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her and she looked down at her feet. There was guilt there.
A lot of guilt.
He pulled away from Henry and over to her. She wasn’t far, just a few paces away. Almost as if she was waiting for him in the far back corner to confront her.
“Annabelle,” he said warningly, his voice as low as he could manage. He could hear Henry and Jack trotting heatedly behind him. “Start talking.”
“We had to!” a frantic voice cut in, as Sophie and Mary came barreling toward them, their breaths ragged from the sprint. Seth watched as each of the women’s wide eyes darted between Henry and Jack. Sophie was the one speaking. “We didn’t have a choice!” she added, panicked.
Seth’s turned back to lock eyes with the woman he’d called Annabelle and he growled in frustration. That hadn’t explained anything, and his patience was wearing thin.
“We’re orphans,” Annabelle blurted suddenly, and his stomach dropped to his feet. He could feel his body begin to shake with anger—not just confusion, anymore, but betrayal.
What does she mean, orphans?
“We left the orphanage years ago,” she went on desperately. “It wasn’t safe for us there. We ended up becoming part of a gang after that, forced to steal to survive.”
“A gang?” Henry’s voice rose an octave, and immediately Seth felt the townspeople starting to look.
This was starting to become a spectacle.
Henry must have realized it too, because he cleared his throat.
“We should keep it down.” He looked at Mary—or whoever she was—and Seth could see his fists clench.
Annabelle nodded, her eyes downcast. She seemed so poised in her speech, as though she had been rehearsing this.
Seth wasn’t even sure if he should believe it. Was this just another ploy? Something to gain sympathy?
“A man took us in,” she said, more quietly now. “Said he’d protect us, but he made us steal. Created a whole outfit that we were part of. We were… we were con women. We stole things from wealthy ladies’ houses, pretending to be their maids.”
The way her body language read, it was… fear. Her words were steady and rehearsed, but her feet shifted, and her head was lowered. She couldn’t look any of them in the eye.
“You’re serious?” Seth narrowed his eyes at her, still seething. He wasn’t sure what he believed. He might’ve shouted, but Henry’s hand on his arm was reminder enough not to lose his temper. His blood ran colder and colder with every word she spoke.
Orphans.
Gangs.
Con women! They’re con women!
He wanted to scream at her, demand that she high-tail it out of town… but he couldn’t find the words. His tongue felt thick. Heavy. The thought of her lying to him, of her hoodwinking him from the very beginning—?
He hadn’t wanted a wife. And then he’d agreed—only to be made a fool.
He knew what betrayal felt like—he’d seen it in Hazel’s eyes when he’d come home from the war, only to find her working in that saloon, turning into someone he didn’t even recognize. She’d never told him the truth.
And now, here was Annabelle—or whatever her name was, standing right in front of him, even more deceiving. Even more manipulative.
You shouldn’t have forgotten. You can never trust a woman.
“You’re serious?” he repeated again, the silence deafening as venom dripped from his tongue.
Annabelle met his gaze for the first time since the conversation began, and those chestnut eyes that he’d thought were so gorgeous and fierce before were now filled with something else.
Fear.
“We didn’t have a choice!” she protested tightly. “We got thrown off a wagon train for stealing when we were headed further west. We never meant to come here, but we ended up here. You thought we were the mail-order brides, and we… we did what we needed to survive.”
Seth couldn’t take it anymore.
“Cut the act,” he hissed, his anger taking complete control over his tongue now. His heart was drumming hard and fast, and he could hear his own ragged breath.
The other two women’s faces were filled with emotion.
Tears. Not pretend-Anabelle. She had claimed to be his wife, and now she was standing there, trying to make excuses.
A mockery of his good nature. He couldn’t stand the sight of her.
Not now. Not after everything. He itched to grab her and shake sense into her, so she would know just what she had done to him. But he knew he shouldn’t.
Get ahold of yourself.
“You lied to all of us…” he began, his body shaking even harder now, his stomach turning. I’m going to be sick. “What are your real names?” he breathed out, trying to get back to the point.
“Ada…” Jack’s wife said.
The silence that followed was almost deafening.
“Etta…” Henry’s wife burst into tears.
Henry was at her side in an instant, pulling her into a protective embrace. “It’s all right, darlin’,” he whispered as her shoulders continued to vibrate against him. “I don’t care about any of that. You’re safe now.”
Seth’s gaze shifted to Jack and Ada. The two of them exchanged a silent look that spoke volumes. Jack’s hand rested on her arm. It was a reassuring one.
Seth wrenched his gaze away, livid, as he grinded his teeth together. How can they forgive them so easily? They’re con women!
He couldn’t bring himself to even look at Annabelle—or whatever her name was.
“My real name is June,” she said, in a breathless whisper.
Hearing her real name—knowing she’d lied—it did something to him, twisted up something deep inside his body. It dredged up memories he thought he had buried a long time ago—memories of returning from war to find Hazel. He’d come home planning to marry her. She’d never told him the truth.
She’d lied by not saying anything at all.
How was June any different?
“What are we supposed to do now?” Henry’s voice broke the silence. He glanced at Seth, his usual certainty replaced by anxiety. “We’ve got three extra brides and no grooms to match them with.”
“Seth… I’m s-sorry.” June shifted toward him, her lip trembling. Her voice finally broke. She no longer sounded poised.
Seth held his breath as his fingernails dug into the palms of his hands. He heard Henry, but he didn’t care about the brides—not any of them. Not even the one who stood in front of him apologizing.
He turned on his heel and walked away, shoving through the crowd who had returned to their night merrily. Everyone seemed blissfully ignorant now, indifferent to what was happening in some darkened corner. Couples danced. Men drank against the walls. Everyone was having a good time.
Everyone except him. Knocking shoulders with a few people as he shoved through, he made his way outside, his footsteps heavy on the packed dirt.
“Seth, wait,” June called behind him, her voice almost pleading.
He heard her following him, her footsteps quickening as she ran to catch up. But he didn’t stop.
He wouldn’t.
Couldn’t.
***
He cursed his own chivalry.
He couldn’t leave her behind. Not with her calling after him, pleading on the street when he’d jumped aboard the wagon.
At first, he told himself it was for appearances.
He didn’t need the entire town thinking he’d left his wife on the side of the road, stranded in town after dark.
But then he wondered—is there another reason I care, after everything she’s done?
It was a long ride back to the ranch.
They didn’t speak a word to one another.
What was there left to say?
From the corner of his eye, he could see June’s shoulders rise and fall, and he heard the occasional sniffle. But each and every time he heard it, he only felt angrier—colder.
Finally, they arrived back at the ranch. He yanked the team to a halt in front of the barn, dust swirling up around them. “Woah!” he barked at the horses, his voice lacking any gentleness. All his patience and care was gone.
Good riddance. If only it could have gone away before he’d left town hall. Then he could have just left her standing there.
Maybe she could feel just as betrayed as him.
No. She would never be able to understand how betrayed he felt; how much of a fool he’d been to trust her.
Seth’s anger spilled out in all his movements.
Skip stomped and tossed his head, snorting nervously.
Ignoring the horses’ nervous snorts, he jumped down from the wagon, his boots hitting the dirt with a solid thud.
June climbed down a moment later, but he paid her no mind—not even when she ran inside weeping.
He untied Suzanna and Skip with rough, hurried jerks, muttering under his breath, sharp and bitter.
How could he start trusting her?
She’d warned him.
He had to give that to her. The first day at the rocks, she’d told him he shouldn’t trust anyone.
Boy, wasn’t that the truth.
It was probably the only word of truth she had ever uttered to him before tonight.
He unhitched the horses from their harness, metal buckles clinking as he tugged angrily on them.
His shoulders heaved with frustrated breaths as he worked.
The horses continued to shift uneasily as he led them angrily toward the barn.
But he still didn’t ease up. “Move!” he snapped to Skip, tugging harder than necessary as he threw the large creaky barn door open.
Inside the barn, he slung the harnesses onto their hooks and brushed the dirt from his hands. Then, still growling, as he led Suzanna and Skip to their stalls, slamming the stall doors behind them. For a moment, his mind drifted to her weeping and running inside, but he quickly shook it off.
Just a con woman conning!
He blew out a large breath as he leaned against the stall door. Now he had to look at her inside his house, the house his family built. She was a stranger.
A stranger inside his family’s home.
As soon as he walked through the front door, she was standing there, hugging her arms, her lips trembling.
“You’ll get no sympathy from me,” he said coldly.
“That’s not what I’m after,” she whimpered.
And then, suddenly, he felt his restraint crumble completely. He whirled on her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His emotion was raw. “You should’ve told me the truth, June! You should’ve told me what kind of woman you really are!”
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration leaking from every pore on his body. He clenched his fists, then turned away from her and pummeled the air. He had to fight the urge to lash out. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.
“Would it have made a difference? If I’d told you the truth from the beginning?”
He turned to look at her. Her hands trembled as she clutched the edge of the table. She looked ashamed, and afraid.
“Yes,” he snapped. “You lied to me. You let me believe—” He stopped himself, shaking his head bitterly. “I trusted you, Annabelle—or should I call you June, now? Does it make a difference to you either way?”
Her chin lifted, defiantly all of a sudden, as she wiped her tears away.
“And you’ve been so honest with me?” she shouted.
“I’ve seen Hazel, Seth. I know she’s someone from your past, and I think I’m the only one that doesn’t know who she is to you and why you have this chip on your shoulder every time her name is spoken! ”
The mention of Hazel was like a slap to the face. That was the exact person who’d caused the wounds that June had singlehandedly ripped back open hours ago. Seth fists clenched at his sides as he fought to keep his emotions in check. “Hazel has nothing to do with this!” he yelled.
“Doesn’t she?” June shouted, but there were tears appearing in her eyes all over again. “You’re holding me to a standard you don’t even meet yourself. Don’t pretend you’re some saint! You’re still in love with her!”
Seth exhaled sharply and turned away, feeling a guttural pain more intense than he thought June could cause.
“We’re done talking about this tonight,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet. He couldn’t go into that tonight. How wrong she was. “Go to bed.”
“Is that how it’s going to be?” she demanded. “You’re just going to shut me out?”
“You shut yourself out!” he bellowed, wheeling on her as his anger finally got the best of him. “The moment you told me your name was Annabelle Matthews!”