Chapter 35

35

T he next morning, dawn revealed a layer of white covering everything, and still the clouds hovered around the mountain peaks, pregnant with more snow. Franklin was thankful he and the hands had finished getting the remaining cattle ready for the winter. For the time being, the flakes had stopped falling. The stark whiteness covered every blemish in the landscape, reminding him of the scripture that says that the blood of Jesus can cover our sins and make them white as snow. With that thought, he realized he couldn't put off his talk with Lorinda any longer. As long as he continued to selfishly hold her in bondage to this marriage, his sins weren't covered. They were red like scarlet, and he felt every one deep in his heart and soul.

He needed a private time with his wife, but the regular events kept this from happening until early-afternoon when Mrs. Oleson went upstairs to rest and both babies were napping. He faced the confrontation with dread, knowing the meeting might not be pleasant...especially for him, if she chose to go.

The fire in the parlor made the room cozy, in spite of the cold winds whistling around the sides of the house. He waited near the doorway, watching for Lorinda to exit the bedroom the boys shared. When she came out and quietly closed the door, his heart leapt into his throat. A few blonde curls had escaped the bun that rested low on the back of her head. They hung along her face and neck, outlining her with a bright halo. As his gaze followed the path of the curls, the desire to drop kisses along its length almost took his breath away. Her beauty overwhelmed him, because he knew she was lovely both inside and out. A woman any man would be glad to share his life with. Have her as the mother of his children. What a fool he'd been to make decisions based solely on his own selfish needs...or what he'd thought he needed. How wrong he had been. What he really wanted was to be that man and spend the rest of his life loving her.

Oh, Lord, please help me get through this. And if it's possible, let me keep my wife...for real, this time.

"Lorinda." He kept his tone soft so he wouldn't startle her or awaken the boys.

She glanced at him, a bright smile spreading across her face. "Yes, Franklin?" His name spoken softly like that felt like a caress.

That smile made him desire her even more...in every way. "I'd like to talk to you, if you have time." No, I wouldn't...not about this, but I have to. The words soured on his stomach.

"Of course." She entered the parlor like a queen in her own castle. That's what this house should be...her castle. She belonged here just as much as he did.

The twinkle in her eyes told him she had no inkling of what was coming. He knew what he had to say would remove that spark. What else would it do to this dear woman? Lord, give me the right words. That whispered prayer didn't bring him any comfort. He felt as if it bounced off the ceiling and got no closer to heaven.

She glided like an angel floating on a cloud and settled into one of the wingback chairs close to the warm fire. He dropped into the matching chair across from her. Now how should I start? He didn't hear any words from heaven to help him. He was on his own, and he'd already made such a mess of things.

After an elongated period of silence, Lorinda leaned toward him. "What did you want to talk about, Franklin?"

With a loud harrumph, he cleared a boulder from his tight throat. "Just some things I need to say to you." How awkward.

She nodded, and her smile wobbled a little.

He leaned his forearms on his thighs and clasped his hands between his knees. That didn't help. He just needed to start somewhere and get it over with.

"I've been thinking a lot about us and our marriage." He glanced up at her face and caught a confused expression. This wasn't going to be easy. He didn't want to watch his words hurt her, and they might.

"What about our marriage?" Her voice had a tremble in it.

"I've come to believe I took advantage of you when I shouldn't have."

She scrunched her forehead. "How?" The word was barely above a whisper, but he heard it loud and clear.

"You were vulnerable...and you needed help...help I could give."

Her nod was slow. "So?"

"I was selfish. I took what I wanted without considering what you might want...or really need." His tongue tasted the bitterness of the words.

"You're talking in riddles. What are you trying to say, Franklin?" She clasped her hands so tight her knuckles blanched as white as the snow outside the window.

"I've been defrauding you with our sham marriage. I wanted just what I wanted and nothing more."

A frown puckered her lips. Lips he'd like to kiss again the way he did at the wedding. The thought that he might never again taste their sweetness almost unmanned him.

She sat up straighter in the chair, her back stiff as a board. "That's the agreement we made with each other." She bit out the words like bullets from a gun.

This isn't going well. And why should it? He gritted his teeth and tried again. "You really don't need my financial help now that you have the money from the gold mine you and Mike owned."

Understanding dawned on Lorinda. That was why he hadn't taken any of her money. He planned to get rid of her. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she lifted her chin so they wouldn't leak down her cheeks. "So what are you saying? You don't want to be married to me anymore? Is that it?"

He whispered a word under his breath, but she heard it. One she'd never heard him use before. But she'd heard it from her father and uncle, and a myriad of bad memories sprang to the surface of her mind, escaping the dark place where she'd kept them shut away. She felt as if a sword had been thrust through her mid-section. She placed her arms protectively across that spot and began to rock to and fro.

"I'm doing a bad job of this." He huffed out an exasperated breath. "I want to give you the choice of whether you stay with me or not. If you don't want to, we can quietly get the marriage annulled, since it wasn't consummated."

Each word another wound. "So, now that you have someone else for an heir, you don't want me...or my son." Her tone rose with each word.

He turned startled eyes toward her. "How can you say that? I love Michael. He's my son as much as he is yours."

"No... He. Is. Not." Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she swiped at them with both hands. "If you don't want me, you don't want him."

"But I do." He raised his voice. "I'm trying to do right by you, and you're twisting my words."

"Oh, I know what you're trying to do. Get rid of me." She gave him as harsh of a glare as she could muster. "If I go, so does my son. And who will take care of Andrew if I'm not here to nurse him? Have you thought of that?" She stood and stomped toward the fire, turning her back to him. "Of course, he would be your heir then."

Franklin jerked as if she had hit him and almost knocked over the lamp on the table beside him. He grabbed it and set it back where it belonged.

Lorinda couldn't let herself look at his face. She'd fallen in love with this man and hoped he was falling for her. But she was so very wrong. She had known all along that the sham marriage was a lie. Why had she agreed to it? She clasped her hands on her upper arms, trying to shield herself from the hurt, but nothing really could.

As she awaited his reply, she heard his boots beat a staccato down the hallway to the front door. Before she could turn around and follow him, the door closed with a loud thud. When she looked, Franklin's warm coat and Stetson were no longer hanging on the hall tree.

She considered starting to pack, but she didn't have anywhere to go. This had become her home, and she didn't want to leave. Maybe everything would be all right if she just waited and let him think about what he'd said.

A sham marriage was better than loneliness, wasn't it?

In the barn, Franklin saddled Major. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew if he stayed in the house any longer, all he would do was hurt her more. Maybe if they both had a chance to cool off, they could come to an agreement about this. He hoped she wouldn't be gone when he got back.

Each tear that rolled down her cheeks landed on his heart, burning a hole through it. This was not supposed to happen. They should have been able to just talk this out, sensibly like adults.

He wanted to hit something...hard. He gripped his right hand into a fist and smashed it against the barn door. The divider rolled partway open. Thank goodness it did. If it hadn't, he would be hurt worse. Right now, the sharp pain settled into all the bones in his hand. He shook it and spewed out expletives he hadn't used since he was a sixteen-year-old kid trying to make the other guys think he was grown up. What he'd just done was every bit as bone-headed as some of the things he did back then. He swung into the saddle and rode outside, controlling the horse with the reins in his left hand.

Why was it so hard to talk to Lorinda about important things? He didn't have any trouble talking to anyone else. Mrs. Oleson, the ranch hands, Brian Nelson, other ranchers, bankers, businessmen. None of them tied him in the knots Lorinda did. All he wanted to do was give her a choice, all the time hoping she would choose not to leave him.

Deep in his own thoughts, Franklin turned from the lane onto the road leading to town. He tried to shut out the cold weather completely. Before he paid attention, he was over halfway to town. Wishing his father were still alive, he couldn't think of anyone else he could trust as much. Of course, he had talked to Brian, but he didn't want to share this with him.

Mrs. Oleson wouldn't understand how a man feels. And she didn't know about their marriage pact. So he surely couldn't talk to her about it. Of course, she might've heard a little of that last discussion. It got louder as it went along. He hoped she couldn't understand the words he and Lorinda exchanged.

He'd made a royal mess of things when all he wanted to do was give her a choice of whether to take the way out he offered her or choose to stay with him because she loved him.

Love. He hadn't even mentioned the word to her. He slapped his thigh with the end of the reins. Franklin had gotten angry before they reached the place where he could tell her how he really felt. He remembered his father often telling him that he had to learn to control his temper. He did almost all the time. Why not today?

An especially icy wind hit him full blast. A shiver ran through him. What was he doing out here riding in the cold weather when he should be home by the fire? At least his anger had also cooled down, which was the reason he left the house.

The ride back to the ranch would take longer than getting to Breckenridge. He chose to go to town first and warm up. He could stop by Belle Turnbull's café for a slice of her wonderful Sponge Gingerbread slathered with melting butter and a cup of strong black coffee. That should warm him enough to face the long ride home.

When he stepped into the café, the heat hit him so hard his fingertips tingled, and he felt his face turning red from the strength of it. Rand Morgan and two other ranchers sat at a table near the counter. They waved him over to join them.

Belle came to take his order, and soon he was sinking his teeth into the warm gingerbread that melted on his tongue, awakening his taste buds. Stopping here was just what he needed. Away time with other men, jawing about what was going on at their ranches. The meeting was like an oasis in his desert-dry day.

When he went home, he'd be better able to continue his discussion with Lorinda. They were both adults, and they should be rid of their anger by the time he got there.