Golden Chances (Borrowed Brides 1)

Reese cuddled the baby closer, hiding his face against her tiny body, afraid she’d be frightened by the sight of his tears.

* * *

Faith found them asleep in the rocking chair. As she eased the baby out of Reese’s arms, she noticed the dampness on Reese’s cheeks. He had obviously comforted his daughter, soothed away her tears, by rocking her to sleep. Faith smiled at the thought. He would be a good father. His daughter would never lack for love.

Faith tiptoed to the cradle, half-hoping Reese would awaken.

There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to tell him. But she couldn’t. She wanted to stay. She wanted him to ask her to stay. She wanted to beg him to let her stay. And love him, even if he couldn’t pretend. Even if he couldn’t return her love. She kissed the top of her daughter’s head as she tucked her into the cradle.

“I love you so much,” she whispered. “I love you both so much, but I can’t stay. I can’t ask him to marry me. He doesn’t love me. There was someone else. Someone named Gwendolyn, a long time ago. She hurt him badly, and now, he won’t allow himself to love anyone else. He’s afraid to trust.” Faith gently swung the wooden cradle back and forth. “Your daddy is afraid to love me. But he loves you very much. As much as I do. So you promise me you’ll take good care of him. Grow up and be happy. I wish I could be with you. I hope you’ll forgive me one day. And I hope…” Tears clogged her throat, making her words inaudible. “One day you’ll read this and understand how much I love you, how much I love your daddy.” She slipped the envelope into the cradle next to her daughter’s tiny fist.

Written in Faith’s clear, precise handwriting on the outside of the envelope was one word. A name.

Hope.

Faith kissed her daughter one last time, then on impulse lightly brushed Reese’s ebony hair with her lips.

She hurried out of the nursery, down the stairs, out the front door, and into the buggy. Tempy and Kevin would drive her to the railway station. She’d decided not to wait for David. She would be in Richmond when he got there, ready to learn the terms of the divorce.

The mail train to Omaha left the station at nine. And when it pulled out, Faith planned to be on it.

* * *

Reese discovered the note when he woke sometime after midnight. He felt no qualms about ripping it open and reading the contents.

She was gone. Reese sank back down into the rocking chair. He’d missed his golden opportunity. She’d come to the nursery, then left without waking him.

For the first time in his adult life, Reese couldn’t think what to do. Reese Jordan, the master strategist, the man with a proven plan for obtaining his goals, was lost. And all because Faith had left him.

Reese got up from the rocker and began to pace the confines of the nursery. He couldn’t believe his stupidity. He’d worked so hard to win her, then pushed her away. He’d pushed her away when what he wanted most of all was to have Faith share the rest of his life. Reese had to get her back. He had to think of something—some way, some plan—to keep her.

He crumpled Faith’s note in his fist, then tossed it into the fire. Hope wouldn’t need the letter. She’d grow up knowing exactly how her mother felt. He hurried out of the nursery and went racing down the hall.

* * *

“Get up!” Reese stood next to David’s bed. He reached down to shake his cousin’s shoulder once again.

“What time is it?” David struggled out from under the covers.

“Never mind that. Get dressed and get the buggy. I’m going to get Grandfather.”

David sat up on the side of the bed, reaching for his trousers. “Where are we going?” He pulled his pants into place.

“She’s gone,” Reese told him. “But I’m going to bring her back. We’re going to the telegraph office in Cheyenne.”

“Now?” David glanced at the clock.

“Can you think of a better time?” Reese countered. “She’s already got a head start. Hurry!” Reese slammed the bedroom door, the sound of his booted feet echoing through the hall as his shout ripped through the silent house. “And David, don’t forget to br

ing the baby—and the nurse!”

* * *

“I don’t want to go to Wichmond,” Joy protested irritably, shifting on the hard bench seat. “I want to go back. I don’t want to leave Brutus. Or, Sam. Or, Weese,” she repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time.

“Neither, do I, angel, but we have to,” Faith explained, her voice tight.

“Well, I don’t like it,” Joy said.