The fight went out of her stiffened shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, balancing on her crutch and leaning against the worktable. “It’s just…” She frowned toward the fire, where John was sitting with Dal and the drovers.
“There aren’t many secrets on a cattle drive,” Freddy said gently, reaching to smooth a tendril of Alex’s blond hair behind her ear. “We all know John is here because of you.”
“He’ll leave in the morning.”
Freddy studied her. “He doesn’t have to. He could join the observers…”
Alex shook her head. “I know you mean well.” Surprisingly, she did know. “But you don’t understand.” She gazed into Freddy’s eyes. “There are reasons why I can’t let myself…”
“Your leg? Alex, the man was a doctor. If he cared about your missing leg, he wouldn’t have returned. You’re beautiful and courageous and caring. That’s why he came back.”
Lord, the tears flowed close to the surface today. She blinked hard. “I’m courageous and caring?” How odd to discover how deeply she craved her sisters’ approval and admiration.
“Yes,” Freddy said firmly. Embarrassed, she grinned and reached for a coffee cup. “And you fry a fine steak. Tonight’s supper was almost edible.”
Alex laughed, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Thank you,” she said, wishing she had two legs to stand on so she could give Freddy a hug without falling. Such a gesture would have shocked them both. She glanced toward John. “There’s another reason why I can’t…”
Freddy waited then she said, “If you ever want to talk about that reason…” she drew a long breath, “I’d like to hear it. Sometimes talking helps. Or so I’ve heard.”
She thought about Freddy’s offer while she finished cleaning up, and again when John pushed her chair to the shadowy line between light and dark. He removed a thin cigar from his vest pocket, sat down, and looked up at her, then when she nodded permission, he lit it.
“Payton smoked a pipe,” she said as a beginning, her gaze following the smoke floating in the night air. She had to tell him. Speaking around long choked pauses, she made herself begin the story by relating how she had met Payton at a lecture in New Orleans. “I don’t think he believed me when I promised I would run away and join him in Boston.” Looking back, she couldn’t imagine where she had found the courage to defy her father and run off to marry a man she scarcely knew. “To outsiders I suppose my elopement seemed romantic.”
But this was John, and tonight she would tell the truth about her marriage for the first time. Swallowing, she twisted her handkerchief between her fingers and continued, feeling his gaze on her face. “Payton was incredulous when I showed up on his doorstep. I knew at once I’d made a terrible mistake.” Tilting her head, she blinked up at the stars. “But he did the honorable thing. He married me.” These few statements glossed a universe of pain and humiliation.
“As you might guess from such a beginning, ours was a troubled marriage.” Another long pause elapsed. “But I enjoyed living in the East. I felt I’d come home. And I thrived in the closed society of academia. I believed my skills could be helpful to Payton in that regard, believed I could advance his career through social conquest. I wanted to feel necessary in his life, wanted him to be glad we had married.” She shook her head. “Maybe things would have been different if we’d had children, but we weren’t blessed that way.” She pulled at her handkerchief. “We argued about the cost of entertaining, about servants, about buying a carriage as opposed to hiring… Nothing was too insignificant to provoke a disagreement,” she added softly. “From the first, we seemed to bring out the worst in each other.
“Then, early last year, we received an invitation to dinner at the home of the University’s president. This was a triumph I had been striving to achieve for years.” She balled the handkerchief in her fist, and her voice sank to a strangled whisper. “Payton had a fever that night and wanted to send regrets. But I feared we wouldn’t be invited again if we declined. I argued, insisted. And finally, though he was ill and should have stayed in bed, Payton angrily agreed.
“I have relived that argument a hundred times. If only I hadn’t been so selfish… if only I’d thought more about him and less about myself… If only I hadn’t been so ambitious Payton would still be alive.” Struggling, she swallowed the lump in her throat. “It was raining and dark that night, and the driver’s cautious pace made me feel frantic that we would arrive distressingly late. I harangued Payton into ordering the driver to greater speed.”