But things had changed between them. By unspoken agreement, they had not sought to repeat their night of lovemaking, and John had borrowed a horse from the remuda. He no longer rode in the wagon with her.
He still sat with her every evening, and they talked softly in the warm darkness, discussing the day’s events, filling in their history for each other. John’s thoughts had turned to the future, and occasionally he spoke of establishing a medical practice back East, of building a home, of reentering the world.
“How will you afford such things?” Alex asked, inhaling the scent of his cigar and a hint of the aloe paste he’d rubbed on Freddy’s sunburn. He never mentioned her in his plans for the future, and she was grateful for his consideration. But the omission also broke her heart and made her feel as if she were strangling.
“My father was a prudent man. Long before others began to predict the South would end in ruin, my father had shifted his fortune to Northern banks and investments and advised me to do the same.” He stubbed out his cigar and took her hand. “Does it surprise you to learn that I’m wealthy?”
Alex blinked hard at the lanterns glowing on the sides of the chuck wagon, then she dropped her head and lifted a hand to her forehead. She knew what he was telling her. Even if they failed to deliver two thousand cattle in Abilene, she would never have to worry about money again. If only. If only she could forget the husband she had killed and the debt she owed him. If only she could strap on a wooden leg and pretend that the carriage accident had never happened, pretend that she was blameless and deserving of a life with John. But she couldn’t.
“Why won’t you ride in the chuck wagon with me?” she whispered. She missed him like she missed her leg, the loss an empty space inviting despair.
He raised his knees and wrapped his arms around them, turning his face toward the drovers singing around the campfire. “I used to think about all the boys who died in my medical tent. I saw their faces in the clouds and reflected in the rivers, and I flogged myself that I hadn’t been able to save them. I remembered every bloody body, every failure. And when that pain became familiar, I thought about my father and my son and told myself I could have gotten them out of Atlanta if only I’d been smart enough not to get captured by the Union.”
His grey eyes turned to her and softened. “And then one day, I met a beautiful courageous woman. Your touch was the first soft thing I’d experienced in years, my love. And you were the first person in years to look at me and see a man instead of an eccentric husk.” He took her trembling hand between both of his. “A man—or a woman—cannot change the past or live in it. Eventually the moment comes when it is time to put on one’s clothing and move toward the future.” She stared at him, knowing his definition of clothing was broad enough to include a wooden leg.
“You helped me recognize that moment. I hoped I could do the same for you.”
“Oh, John. Don’t you understand that meeting you has made me question everything in my life?” She’d never been as confused or as profoundly disturbed. Before John strode into her life, she had accepted her obligation to Payton and her punishment. Her decision never to walk again had not changed, but loving John made accepting her penance so hard.
“I love you, Alex,” he said quietly, gazing into her eyes. “I want to spend my life with you. But I won’t share our life with Payton Mills. And this chair,” he touched the hard rubber rim of the wheel, “is your shrine to Payton and the suffering you think you owe him. The day you put the chair away, I’ll know you have chosen the future instead of the past.”
“And if that day never comes?” she whispered.
His eyes closed briefly, then he brought her hand to his lips. “I will spend the rest of my life seeing your face in the clouds and in the morning mist. I’ll hear your voice in the breeze, and I’ll grieve for what might have been.” He kissed her palm, then pressed it to his cheek.
After he pushed her back to camp, they gazed at each other in silence, not needing words to express their pain. Alex understood that he was waiting for her to make a decision. But she had made that decision the night Payton died.
Blinded by tears, she almost ran into Freddy as she rolled through the darkness toward her bedroll. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, dashing a hand across her eyes. “I didn’t see you.”
Freddy stood in front of her, hands on her hips, a frown tugging her lips. “I can’t stand it another minute. Every person in this outfit helped make your new leg, and every one of us comes to breakfast every day expecting to see you standing there without your crutch. I can’t begin to count how many hours John worked on that leg. We all did. So why aren’t you wearing it?”
“You know why.” She placed her hands on the wheels of the chair. “Please let me pass.”