Chapter Twenty-Three
It was the evening after the river crossing, and even if they were not all unscathed, everyone had survived.
Ethan sat by his family’s wagon, gazing at the stars.
It was nights like this one that made him almost wish he was a little more like Derek, who would never deign to be left alone with unpleasant thoughts and would instead drown them in alcohol.
Ethan didn’t know exactly what would burden even Derek, but it had to be something for him to drink as much as he did.
Unlike their pa, Ethan had never been a man who was particularly fond of drink beyond the occasional ale, but he longed for that pleasant blankness, that ability not to care, that came from drinking.
A dark form approached where he was sitting, and when Ethan realized who it was, he grimaced. He might have just been thinking about Derek, but that didn’t mean Ethan wanted him around.
“Pa used to do that,” said Derek, climbing into the seat beside Ethan.
Ethan was too tired to even bristle at the remark. “Do what?”
“Sit in the dark and think. All by himself. It used to make my ma really uneasy. She was always the kind of woman who liked to talk through her feelings, if you know what I mean.”
Ethan grunted. Maybe Derek would notice his lack of interest and go away.
“She didn’t think it was good for him,” Derek added. “But Pa was a stubborn man and wouldn’t listen.”
Ethan clenched his jaw. Even though he didn’t look at Derek, Ethan sensed that the other man was watching him, searching his face for some kind of reaction.
Ethan might’ve thought Derek was trying to get a rise out of him, except that Derek wasn’t that calculating.
For all his faults, he never tried to do anything maliciously.
Derek just had the misfortune of being frustrating, and also blissfully ignorant of that very fact.
“She thought Pa being left alone with his thoughts would only make him miserable,” continued Derek. “Haunted, she said.”
Ethan snorted. His pa deserved to be haunted for abandoning his wife and two children.
Derek sighed, the sound heavy in the growing twilight. “So she’d go sit with him and talk sometimes.”
“Good for him,” Ethan muttered mutinously.
For a beat, Derek said nothing. That silence was followed by him clearing his throat and a faint, irritated huff of air.
“I’m trying to help,” Derek said. “If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine.
But what happened to Grace’s pa wasn’t your fault, and you’re not going to do anyone a bit of good by sitting here in the dark blaming yourself for what happened. ”
Ethan’s head snapped in Derek’s direction. “I never said I blamed myself.”
Derek’s expression was kind, and Ethan inwardly balked at seeing that much fondness directed at him by the young man.
Sure, Derek had made it no secret that he was determined to be Ethan’s brother, whether he wanted one or not, but this expression was something entirely different.
It was deeper and more mature, almost like looking at someone Ethan didn’t even recognize.
“I know you,” said Derek. “Even if you wish I didn’t.
Of course you blame yourself, but you shouldn’t.
You and Amos both tried to tell Richard that he needed to let someone more experienced handle the reins, but he refused to listen.
It was a terrible accident, and you were there. But it wasn’t your fault.”
Ethan could only stare. A sudden chill swept over his arms, raising goosebumps on them. “I could’ve done more.”
“No, you couldn’t have. You saw Grace and Emily safely across the bridge. And sure, Richard got hurt, but he could have died. He didn’t, because of you.”
Ethan’s shoulders slumped, and he fixed his gaze on the distant horizon.
The image of Grace’s terrified face was stuck in his mind.
He had never seen a woman so distraught.
Ethan had ached to pull her into his arms and press his lips against her ear to murmur soft reassurances that would put a stop to her trembling.
Her eyes had been bloodshot and red from all the tears, and Ethan knew what she must have been thinking, what any woman in her position would be thinking in that moment.
Richard Hawthorne was her father, the man who took care of their little family.
Without him, how would Grace survive? She would be responsible for her father’s health and Emily’s well-being for the rest of the journey, and that was a lot to ask of one person, never mind a woman alone on the trail.
Guilt over his role in causing Richard’s injury and admiration for Grace’s strength mingled together inside him.
“Regardless, it happened while I was leading the oxen,” Ethan said. “I have a duty to make sure that Grace is taken care of.”
Derek chuckled. “Right. A duty.”
Ethan cast him a sharp look. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Is it really only duty?” Derek asked with a grin.
Ethan’s heart skipped a beat. “Yes,” he said stiffly. “That’s all it is.”
Deep down, Ethan knew that wasn’t true. He liked Grace all right. More than all right.
He’d sooner plunge into that river himself and take his chances with the rapids than let Derek know that, though.
“Say what you will,” Derek said, climbing down from the seat, “but I can see through you.”
Ethan clenched his jaw and said nothing. He wouldn’t admit he liked Grace, and he sure wasn’t going to let Derek know he was right.
***
Night fell, and Ethan ventured over to the campfire.
Its flickering orange flames offered a small respite from the darkness around them that waited just beyond the circle of wagons.
It was a poor night for him to be asked to keep watch.
That meant more time to spend with his thoughts of Richard and Grace.
Mostly Grace.
She was awake too. He recognized her slender form, seated in her family’s wagon.
It would be better for her to sleep, but Ethan understood why she could not.
He himself was plagued by what had happened to Richard, so it surely had to be much worse for her.
Ethan bit the inside of his cheek and thought about going to her, but maybe Grace would prefer not to see him, given the circumstances.
The night grew longer, and they watched one another like two silent sentinels.
She was too far away for him to see her face, that is until Grace slipped away from the wagon.
Ethan watched, his heart in his throat, as she joined him by the fire.
His mind raced, trying to find the right thing to say, familiar enough with his own mind to know he was terrible at choosing the right words when it really mattered.
“Thank you again,” Grace said as she settled onto the ground beside him. “I know you have said that my gratitude is unnecessary, but thank you all the same.”
He glanced at her, raising an eyebrow at the small bundle of cloth that she held clasped between her hands. Ethan wanted to ask what she held, but he thought that would be inappropriate. The poor woman had experienced a very trying day, and she probably had a lot she needed to get off her chest.
“How are you doing?” Ethan asked.
If he didn’t know the right words to say, maybe it was best to keep Grace talking, the same way Derek’s ma had done for Pa. Ethan closed his eyes and buried his emotions deep so he could be what Grace needed in that moment.
“As well as can be expected,” Grace said, sighing. “I keep thinking of how this is all my fault. Father didn’t even want to come—”
“It wasn’t,” Ethan interrupted. “Not at all.”
Grace’s eyes shone with doubt, and Ethan’s fingers twitched at his side. He longed to cup her cheek and smooth that furrowed brow.
“That is kind of you to say.”
It was a cold, formal way to respond. For the first time, Ethan wondered if Grace’s formality was like armor, a way for her to protect herself when she was uncomfortable.
He remembered how formal she had been at the beginning when the other men stared at her, how she had kept her back straight and her chin raised, as if oblivious to their gossip.
“I have a favor to ask,” she continued.
“Shoot.” Ethan nodded.
Grace carefully unwrapped the small bundle and revealed a stack of dollar bills. Ethan’s jaw nearly dropped. While he had known that Grace’s family was wealthy, seeing her hold that stack of money was still shocking. Ethan looked around the camp warily, irrationally afraid that someone might see.
“Be careful with that,” he murmured, trying not to look at it so he wouldn’t draw any attention to it.
“I am being careful with it,” Grace replied. “This isn’t even everything.”
Ethan stared at her, his throat suddenly dry. He didn’t think he’d ever seen so much money before in his life. “Where did it all come from?”
“My father,” she said solemnly. “We brought a lot of money with us to help us start our new life in Oregon. I would appreciate it if you would keep it a secret that we have it.”
“Of course.”
Ethan would never dream of telling anyone about the money, of course. But why was Grace showing it to him? He furrowed his brow and glanced around them again, anticipating…something. Maybe to find Richard Hawthorne watching?
Yet he was nowhere to be found, likely recovering from his injuries inside their wagon. Ethan curled his hands into fists as he thought of how the man wouldn’t be walking around for a while yet.
“I would like to pay you to get us safely to Oregon,” Grace said, holding the money out to him.
All the air seemed to leave Ethan’s lungs at once. “Pay me?” he echoed. “What do—what do you mean?”
Grace gulped and nodded, as if trying to find the resolve to say what she meant.
“There’s no one to drive my family’s wagon, but I know that, if needed, Hannah could drive for your family.
So I’d like you to drive my family and me to Oregon.
And I would prefer that we keep our arrangement a secret, so no one suspects that my father and I have this money. ”
Ethan’s heart was in his throat. She was proposing a business transaction.
Some small part of him thought that he’d be taking advantage of her while she was in a desperate situation, and that a better man would refuse any money and insist on taking her to Oregon without pay.
But what she offered was so tantalizing; he had an unmarried sister without a dowry, and that much money could truly mean a new life for Hannah.
He could ensure that she didn’t enter a future marriage penniless.
“Please, Ethan.” Grace’s voice was soft and calm, but her eyes were so full of desperation that his heart ached.
“…all right,” he said, his throat raw, “but I reckon you should keep the money until I’ve actually gotten you all the way there.”
She nodded and wrapped the cloth back over the money. As Ethan studied Grace’s profile, her sad face and tense posture, a deep ache spread inside his chest. He tried to tell himself that he had only agreed to this for the money, but he knew that wasn’t entirely true.
Even if she’d offered him nothing, Ethan knew he’d never be able to just walk away from Grace Hawthorne.