Never before had he laid his emotions out, bare, raw, and bleeding to another living soul. Yet he’d done it now, confessing his love, offering himself, his heart.
Annie had rejected him. With her eyes, which spoke volumes more than any words. There’d been those, too. Apologies. Tears. She’d said how sorry she was for her unladylike behavior.
A dry smile crossed Travis’s lips, and he gave a furious scrub at the examining room floor. If the passion she’d shown in her kiss was what she considered unladylike conduct, then let propriety hang!
It was over between them. He wouldn’t force his affections on her. That would only make the both of them miserable.
No. He must say good-bye to Annie Lawrence. The Annie who had lived in his memory for so long, taking up far too much space with her beautiful brightness.
In doing so, he might as well give a hearty bon voyage to his inheritance. He wasn’t about to marry another woman, and he wouldn’t ask his father to make an exception and grant one of his sons his share of the land without a wife.
Not that he cared all that much. Medicine, not cattle and horses, had always been his passion. He would still have a comfortable life without his place at the 7 Heart.
Who was he kidding? He did want his inheritance, to take his place beside his brothers and work the land and livestock his father loved so much.
He chucked the soapy rag in the bucket with more force than necessary. Sudsy water splashed everywhere, including all over his shirt and trousers.
A word his mother would have cringed to hear him use sizzled from his mouth before he could check himself.
Two losses, one after the other. Annie. His inheritance.
God, why? Is there sin in my life preventing me from being blessed? Annie is a free woman again, so there’s no wrong in our being together. I love her. How am I supposed to quit? Love isn’t like a fire in a furnace, that can be doused at a moment’s notice. You can’t turn it on and off so easy. Is that what You expect me to do? Quit loving her? I might as well tell myself to quit walking. Or breathing.
A knot lodged in his throat, making it ache. What was it the chaplain had said during that wartime service? Something about God giving strength to bear all trials, no matter how great? Well, the Almighty had him all wrong. Because Travis wasn’t sure if he could endure seeing Annie again without the knife-thrust of rejection slicing him clean through each and every time.
Yet God had never failed him before. Not during the war, when he’d seen men fall only inches away from his face. Not throughout the long years of medical school, when he questioned his destiny and considered walking away without a degree. Never once had His hand not been evident in Travis’s life.
Still, the doubts rolled in. What would his brothers think when they heard of his failure? Bowie would understand. Houston, too. But happily married Hays and Chisholm would think him a type of deserter. They wouldn’t say it out loud, of course, but Travis couldn’t fault them for thinking it. In their position, he might do the same. Like Shakespeare said, anyone could master grief but him that bears it.
A price he must pay. To stay true to himself. To remain a man of honor.
God, be my guide as You’ve been so many times before. Help me to find fresh meaning in life, even a life that’s not the way I’ve been picturing it. And be with Annie. Keep me from…
Loving her? It was what he needed to say.
But it was the last thing he could bring himself to put into words.
Chapter Nine
Less than ten minutes after Karen Sandler breathed her last, her husband entered the room. Annie couldn’t imagine the emotions that went through him as he took in the scene. A baby lying on the table, blue and lifeless. Blood saturating the mattress. His wife, cold and ashen, in the midst of that blood.
Abe Sandler’s face betrayed nothing. For the space of several seconds, he just stared. As if unwilling to believe the truth his eyes told.
Annie forced her shaking legs to support her and crossed the cabin floor. Far too soon, she stood in front of Karen’s husband.
Lord, how am I to tell him?
“Your wife went into labor soon after you left. The baby was premature and did not survive. After the delivery, your wife suffered a severe hemorrhage. I did everything I could … I’m so desperately sorry.” Her words faltered, tears blurring her vision.