Rancher To The Rescue. Barbara Phinney
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Anderson and Haley law firm will be able to help you keep custody of them. Go see them this morning. Then go to your bank appointment.”
“And pile up more bills,” she muttered.
“It can’t be helped. I expect you back to work at one. After work, you can fill me in on what happened, all right?”
With a short, tight nod, she stood. As she walked past him, she stopped, her voice dropping to a mere whisper. “After we’re married, will I still get to work here?”
She rolled her gaze upward until it bumped into his. She could hear the naysayers now. Taking a job from a man, taking food from some family’s mouths. Was she expected to stop work just because of a marital status?
Noah looked grim. “This is not the time for that discussion. You have more urgent issues.”
Clare sagged. “I’ll do my best to get this sorted out as quickly as possible.” She waited a moment, before adding, “I’m grateful I’ve been able to share this with you. Regardless of why any, um—” she glanced over at Mr. Pooley as her voice dropped “—marriage is formed, honesty is still paramount in it, don’t you think?” She offered a small, hopeful smile. “We’re off to a good start, and you’ve been noble to a fault. I appreciate that.” Before he could protest, she hastily shook her head and quickly retrieved her coat and hat before leaving.
* * *
Noah felt a chill race through him. Noble? Honest? He was neither, and neither virtue had prompted his proposal. Thinking of Elizabeth and of her humiliation, the humiliation he’d caused her, he recalled again how he’d agreed never to reveal the true circumstances surrounding their broken engagement.
At the time, he’d believed it was the least he could have done for her. But back then, his faith in God had been weakened by an unchristian father who cared little for religion and who wanted only to line his pockets. Being in Proud Bend, listening to Pastor Wyseman’s excellent sermons and seeing the man’s resounding faith, Noah’s own faith had been bolstered.
But now it faltered, tripping over the lie he’d allowed to stand for two years. And had yet to reveal to Clare.
He could fix her situation with a proposal, but he wasn’t completely noble in his motivation, or in his inaction these past two years.
The honesty upon which Clare thought their marriage was going to be based was nothing but a sham.
And like Clare with her own situation, he had no idea how to fix it.
It was at work, in the late afternoon of the next day, when the whole situation seemed to weigh the most heavily upon Clare. She’d thought she’d known all about getting married. After all, she’d helped several of her college friends prepare for their weddings, and she’d been a bridesmaid just a few weeks ago when her friend, Victoria, had married Mitch MacLeod.
Victoria had asked both Clare and her cousin, Rachel Smith, to attend her. But since Rachel had married the sheriff’s brother just before last Christmas and moved to some town in Illinois, returning only for the wedding, the bulk of the preparations had been on Victoria and her aunt Louise.
Clare had underestimated the number of forms to fill out. They should have been second nature to her, what with her job at the Recording Office, but she had found her hands shaking as she’d written her own name on several sheets attesting that she was indeed Clare Margaret Walsh, a spinster.
Also, her heart had pounded like she’d run a mile when Pastor Wyseman met with her and Noah, and even more so when he’d met with her privately in his tiny office at the parsonage.
“Are you being coerced into this marriage?”
She gaped at the pastor. “I beg your pardon?”
It was a question that Pastor Wyseman had felt morally obligated to ask, he explained.
All Clare could do was shake her head mutely until he’d asked her to speak out her answer. Her voice cracked with nerves. “No, I’m not being coerced.”
She was merely saving her family, she added only to herself.
“And your parents, Clare?” the pastor asked. “Are they coming back for the wedding? I would have thought they’d be in Europe by now, but Noah has asked for the ceremony to happen as soon as possible. Why is that?”
Clare swallowed. With eyes wide and body as still as stone, she found she couldn’t answer.
Then, suddenly, she blurted the whole story. The events, including what Noah had said, that her parents might still be found alive—everything poured out from her like a torrent. She couldn’t stop a single word, even if she tried.
Pastor Wyseman listened, his attention riveted to her. Then, after some quiet words of comfort, and one short reprimand admonishing her for not asking for his help earlier, he prayed.
“It sounds to me like you’re still unsure of what to do,” Wyseman said after ending his prayer. “I won’t issue the bans, as is my custom, until you’re ready, Clare. Let me know before the service on Sunday.”
Relief swept through her. Just giving voice to all the anguish made her feel better.
Still, it would be best to have the ceremony as soon as possible. She wasn’t the sort of person to put off a task based solely on its level of unsavoriness. “The end of next week is fine.”
He consulted the small calendar on his desk. “Friday, April 21?”
She nodded. The truth settled into her. She would be married that day. Less than two weeks and she hadn’t told a soul. Precious few knew about her parents.
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