Chapter 20
Shadow Valley, Texas - March 1873
"Honor!" Buck yelled as she rode out of town. "I need your horse Teaspoon!"
"Son you can't ride after that girl."
"She ain't safe out there." Buck turned to him. "There is no way her brother knows she rode out here alone."
"I'll make sure she gets home safe." Teaspoon hoisted himself onto his horse. "You settle whatever it is you need to settle here."
Buck watched Teaspoon disappear in a cloud of dust, a silent plea hanging heavy in the air. He knew his old friend wouldn't hesitate to bring Honor back safely, but the uncertainty gnawed at him. He should have been the one chasing after her, mending the rift he'd caused.
Steeling himself, Buck turned towards Bethany. The guilt that had been a dull ache for weeks now flared into a searing pain. He owed her the truth. As he walked towards her, his gaze snagged on the crumpled letter clutched in her hand. Not yet understanding what had taken place he stepped up next to her on the boardwalk.
"Can you take me home please?" Bethany didn't look him in the eye as she took his arm and walked down the walkway with him in silence.
Bethany walked into the parlor and sat in the chair by the window. She watched as Buck stood across the room at the fireplace and waited for her to say something. She touched the frail paper again and unfolded it gently. Her eyes weld up with tears again as she read his tender words of love.
My dearest,
Please forgive the delay in my visit. I had hoped to see you before Christmas, but something unexpected has come up. Remember the young girl I mentioned? Sadly, she's fallen very ill, and I couldn't bear the thought of not being there for her during this difficult time.
I know this means waiting until spring to see you again, and I'll admit, I'm already counting down the days. While you won't feel the disappointment as keenly, believe me, the thought of being apart for so long is a real ache. However, your understanding in this situation means the world to me.
Spring will come, and when it does, I can't wait to see you again. I look forward to kissing your sweet berry-stained lips again.
Until then, take care of yourself, and know that I think of you often.
With love, Buck
"That woman dropped this." Bethany's voice hitched, the words tumbling out like a confession.
Tears blurred the ink on the page, each word a fresh betrayal. Declarations of love, not for him, but for another woman, felt like a branding iron on her already wounded heart. This wasn't about lingering affection, it was about a desperate act of love for her sister. The burden of securing her future was slipping through her fingers.
"I'm so sorry, Bethany," Buck said, taking a hesitant step towards her.
"The way you describe your love for her in this letter," she choked out, clutching the paper to her chest. "I hope someday I find someone that loves me half as much as this."
"I don't understand," he stammered, his voice tight with confusion.
"Please don't hate me, because I truly do love you," Bethany whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Just not in the way you think." She buried her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "I have to tell you the truth."
The door to the parlor burst open, and Desiree rushed in, her face flushed with agitation. "Bethany Mills!" She bellowed.
"The way you treat us isn't love, mother!" Bethany shot back, her voice laced with defiance. "You aren't just ruining my life and Samantha's anymore. You're ruining other people's lives as well!"
"Bethany!" Desiree's voice cracked, the imperious facade momentarily faltering. "She's not feeling well," she added hastily, reaching for her daughter's arm.
"Let me go!" Bethany jerked away, her eyes blazing with a newfound anger.
"Let her talk, Desiree," Buck said, his voice surprisingly calm despite the storm brewing within him.
"I'm so sorry," Bethany said, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "My mother has been trying to convince you to marry me since we got here."
Buck's gaze flickered between Bethany, her tear-streaked face etched with a mixture of shame and defiance, and Desiree, whose carefully constructed composure was rapidly crumbling.
"Why?" Buck finally managed to ask, his voice a low rumble. The truth was settling in his stomach, a bitter pill to swallow.
Bethany's voice hitched. "My father and brother," she said quietly, refusing to meet her mother's gaze, "they died in the war."
Buck understood and sighed as he closed his eyes. How easily he had been manipulated. And for what? Money?
"She used your affection and concern for Samantha—"
"Shut up Bethany!" Her mother spat.
The air crackled with suspicion. Buck's grip tightened on Desiree's shoulders, his voice a low growl. "Have you done something to Samantha?"
Desiree's face drained of color, the carefully constructed facade crumbling like sand. A tremor ran through her manicured hands, betraying the simmering panic beneath the surface.
"Of course not!" But the lack of conviction in her voice spoke volumes.
"Doc Evans said you never took her to see him," Buck pressed, his jaw clenched. "She's not sick from an infection."
"Well, I didn't see any reason to take her to the doctor," Desiree stammered, her voice cracking under the pressure. "I just assumed—"
"Mother!" Bethany pushed her mother against the wall, her eyes blazing with a newfound fury. "What have you done to Samantha?"
The room hung heavy with unspoken accusations. Buck's mind raced, piecing together the fragments of truth revealed. The staged illness, the convenient arrival, and now, the veiled threat to Samantha's health. It all pointed to a desperate scheme orchestrated by Desiree.
"Bethany," Buck said gently, pulling her away from her mother. He knew they needed answers, but a calmer approach was necessary. "Get your sister, get your things. I'll make some room for the both of you at the ranch until other arrangements can be made."
Bethany hesitated, her gaze flickering between Buck and her mother. The anger in her eyes slowly morphed into a deep sadness. With a nod, she turned and fled from the room.
Desiree watched her daughter leave, her shoulders slumped, defeat etched on her face. Buck released his grip, his gaze unwavering.
"We need to talk, Desiree," he said, his voice low and firm. The deceit, the manipulation - it wouldn't go unanswered. The truth, however murky, would come to light.