“You have it,” Reese said, lowering his head to walk out the cabin door.
* * *
Something was wrong. Faith could feel it in the air. There was a definite rift in the family. Over the past two months, the atmosphere surrounding the dining table was tense, strained. Duncan and Elizabeth no longer came to the main house for meals. Their food was delivered to their cabin on trays. And Reese stalked around the ranch like a wounded animal, lashing out at his loved ones. Acting as if he’d lost his best friend.
Faith hated to see the pain on his face. She wanted to go to him, to soothe him, but she was afraid. Unsure of her welcome. Reese hadn’t shared her bed since the night she’d surprised him. Faith ached to help him, but she was too weary, too disheartened, to risk his wrath.
She knew she was partly responsible for the crisis in Reese’s family. She could see it in the pitying glances cast her way, sense it in the way her name was spoken, but she had no idea what had caused the turn of events.
Faith decided to confront Mary as they worked inside Elizabeth’s glass-enclosed herb garden, harvesting the last of the fall crop of herbs, and filling the ground with bulbs for spring. Mary did the actual work, digging and planting. In her ninth month of pregnancy, Faith was relegated to handing Mary the tools and bulbs.
Faith searched for a diplomatic way to broach the subject, then decided to be blunt. “Mary, will you tell me what’s going on? I know something is wrong.”
Mary wiped the dirt from her apron, then sat back on her heels. “It’s not for me to tell.”
“Please, I know it concerns Reese and I think it concerns me as well. I have a right to know.”
“Reese has dishonored himself and someone we all care about.” She studied Faith’s taut features. “I don’t know the details. I don’t want to know them, but I do know that until Reese regains his honor Grandfather won’t speak to him or sit at his table.”
“Reese would never dishonor himself!” Faith declared hotly, “Or anyone else. Your grandfather is wrong.” She stretched her arms above her head, then lowered them and began to rub absently at the ache in her back.
“Reese told grandfather himself,” Mary said.
“Then Reese is wrong,” Faith stubbornly insisted. “Who does Reese think he’s dishonored?”
Mary didn’t answer. She reached for a trowel and began digging another hole in the ground.
“It’s me, isn’t it?”
Mary looked up and met the worried gaze of her friend. “Yes.”
“I knew it,” Faith whispered. “That stupid, thickheaded Scots-Cherokee, whatever else, man!” Faith said, borrowing Aunt Tempy’s favorite phrase and expanding on the theme. “And just how does he think he dishonored me?” she demanded.
“He didn’t marry you,” Mary replied. “He sent my brother in his place. That’s all I know about it,” she warned in order to fend off any more questions. “He didn’t bother to stand up with you in person.”
Faith’s temper soared. It was bad enough to pretend to be something she wasn’t. Now, thanks to Reese, everyone on the ranch knew she was a fake! “It was legal! David said it was perfectly legal. I never wanted to get married in the first place. Who said I’d stand up in a church with Reese Jordan anyway? He never even gave me a ring. How does he know I’d have him even if he asked?” She stormed back and forth in front of Mary’s neat row of bulbs.
“He doesn’t,” Mary said. “And I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to bring himself to ask you to stand up in church with him.”
Faith swung around to face Mary. “Why?”
“He’s afraid.”
“That’s absurd. Reese afraid of a church?” Faith scoffed at the idea, but a tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her of the truth of Tempy’s words when she’d told Faith Reese was afraid to touch her. She dug her fist into the small of her back to relieve the tension knotted there. “I don’t believe it.”
“He’s not afraid of the church. He’s afraid of being humiliated again. Of being stood up at the altar.”
“What woman in her right mind would leave Reese Jordan waiting at the altar?” Faith asked, half amused by the incredible thought.
“A woman determined to humiliate him. A woman who used Reese to set an example for all other ‘half-breed’ upstarts who thought they could share a place in ‘polite’ Boston society.” Mary began to explain. “A proper lady. Her name was Gwendolyn…”
“That…That…” As Mary completed her story, Faith searched her sheltered vocabulary for a word bad enough. “Bitch!” she swore for the first time in her life. “To humiliate such a proud man because… Why, it’s no wonder he felt he had to hire a…a mother for his child!”
“You love him, don’t you?” Mary interrupted Faith’s vengeful tirade.
“He’s a stubborn fool.” Faith turned and looked toward the back door of the house where Reese was working in his study. “But so am I. I love him with all my heart. I should have told him months ago. I don’t know if it will change anything, but at least he’ll hear the words from my lips before he forces me to leave him.” Faith started out of the greenhouse, then stopped in her tracks. Slowly she turned to face Mary, her face a mask of confusion.
“What is it?” Mary jumped to her feet, alarmed.