Pamela Nissen - Rocky Mountain Proposal

Ben crossed his arms at his chest and rubbed a hand over the late-afternoon scruff on his chin. “We do know that Paul cared for her deeply, however. Enough that he made arrangements with the sheriff here to have his bank account and land deeded to her name.”

“You can’t be serious,” he ground out.

“As serious as the river’s rise come spring, son,” the sheriff corrected.

“Was he in his right mind?” Aaron probed, feeling squeezed by the way he’d promised himself between a rock and a hard place.

“Yes, he was in his right mind.” The reproving look Ben gave pulled Aaron up short. “In fact, he made a stipulation that if, by summer’s end, Hope decides that staying here on the farm is too much, then she can sell. The money would be hers to keep and do with what she wanted.”

The sheriff sliced a breath through his sparse teeth. “Don’t know what her background is, but one way or t’other, as far as money’s concerned, she’s settin’ pretty now. Just as pretty as the lady is herself,” he added with a tactless chuckle.

“Sheriff, do you mind going into town to let folks know?” Ben ushered the man to the door. “That would help a great deal.”

Aaron gave a relieved sigh. Goodwin, though well meaning, lacked social grace and would only make things more awkward with his ill-placed attempts at humor.

“Sure will.” He tugged at his britches and patted where his gun was strapped to his side in that self-important way of his. “Is there anything else I can get you boys?”

“Not that I can think of. But we’ll sure let you know if there is, all right?” Ben slapped him on the back. “But if you happen to know where Jane is—”

“Denver. She’s returning tomorrow.” The sheriff slid a hand along his belt. “I’ll be the one to break the news to her, because knowin’ Jane…she might just need a big ole’ shoulder to cry on, seein’ as how he was her brother and all.” Goodwin scuffed out the door, his boots tramping over the porch floor.

Once he was gone, Ben returned to where Zach and Aaron were standing, his expression bleak.

“There’s another thing, Aaron.” Zach squared his shoulders.

Wary, Aaron braced himself. “What’s that?”

Zach and Ben exchanged concerned glances. “Well, after you left for the train station, Paul couldn’t stop expressing how grateful he was that you’d made the promise you did.”

“That brought him a lot of comfort, Aaron,” Zach encouraged. “More than you’ll ever know.”

“Well, I’m glad for that.” He swiped a hand over his forehead. “He was in so much pain I would’ve done anything.”

“I know.” Ben clasped Aaron’s shoulder. “And you did because that’s the kind of friend you are. Loyal. True. Caring.”

“Do you remember what that promise was?” Zach prodded.

“I’m not an idiot.” Aaron gave his head an exasperated shake, feeling as though he was being crushed by the weight of his promise. “Of course, I remember what I promised. I said that I’d hold on to hope. But I thought he was referring to faith,” he uttered, trying to keep his voice low. He raked his fingers through his hair. “I thought he was talking about finding peace and hope again after everything with Ellie and the baby. That’s what I thought he meant. He’s been saying things like that for months.”

After several silent moments, Ben puffed out a long breath. “Well, Paul had other ideas.”

Aaron’s eyes grew wide. “Believe me, I realized that just as soon as she introduced herself. Paul wanted me to watch out for her. That’s what he meant.”

“Actually, he meant for you to marry her,” Zach said, easing the words out as though he was spoon-feeding a baby.

Desperation constricted Aaron’s throat. He forced a swallow past the tightness. He could barely breathe. “Marry her?”

“Yep,” Zach answered as if sealing some kind of deal. “Marry Hope and take care of her. Said he couldn’t think of another man he’d rather leave his bride to than you.”

Aaron’s blood ran cold. His entire body shook, yet he couldn’t do a thing to control the vicious trembling. His emotions whipped around in his soul with blizzard force.

The weight of his promise hit him full force. He was a man of his word, loyal to the core. He’d made a promise to a dying friend.

He’d also made a promise to his wife at the altar when they’d married four years ago. How could he possibly honor one vow without dishonoring the other? And how could he possibly enter into something that should be founded on love when he barely knew this woman?

Ben gave his shoulder another squeeze. “I know this is a lot to take in.”

“More than a lot to take in,” he grunted, feeling as desperate as a cornered and injured animal.

“It wouldn’t have been right if we didn’t at least tell you what Paul said.” Zach clasped his other shoulder.

“No, I’m glad you did. It was the right thing to do.” Aaron jammed his hands to his waist and began pacing the floor. He felt helpless to gain some kind of control over the direction his life had suddenly taken. “I’m telling you…I was as sincere as I could be when I made that promise. I just didn’t know.”

Ben cleared his throat. “It’s your decision, Aaron. You have to do what you think is right.”

Peering down the hallway, he stared at the bedroom where his friend lay dead, way too soon, just like Ellie and baby Jeremiah. In Aaron’s greatest time of need, Paul had been a true friend. He’d been there with quiet strength, not barraging Aaron with empty words meant to lift his spirit. He hadn’t ignored Aaron’s loss nor had he ruminated over it endlessly. He’d just let Aaron grieve then gently urged his focus to God.

Paul had been a true friend.

Turning to face his brothers, he finally realized that he had no other option. With his fists clenched and head held high, he looked them in the eye. “I made a promise. I’m going to marry Hope.”

On a long, slow breath, Hope endeavored to calm the flurry of emotions blowing through her heart. She reached out and touched Paul’s hand, longing for the warmth of life to meet her touch.

He was cold.

She gently pressed her palm against his and entwined her trembling fingers in his, trying to memorize the way his hand, large and callused enough to be strong and protecting, felt in hers. But how could she etch into her remembrance something she’d never truly felt? How could she tuck away the sweet memory of her name on his lips?

She relinquished his hand and closed her eyes, her heart clenching with grief. She should pray, but she didn’t know what to pray for. Help? Comfort?

She had no idea a person could feel such tangible fear, desperation and overwhelming sadness at the same time.

Dabbing at her eyes, she stared at where Paul lay covered in a white sheet and simple blue coverlet—so still and so pale. The distinct metallic scent of blood hung in the air, mixing with the musky scent of perspiration that still beaded his forehead.

Hope didn’t regret seeing him like this, but it wasn’t easy—growing up, she’d been sheltered from such things. Paul had suffered, of that she had no doubt. She couldn’t imagine how he’d survived more than a few minutes, let alone three hours.

But the serene look that lingered on his face had taken her by surprise. Even in the midst of staggering pain, he’d found peace. As strong as Paul’s faith was, she was sure he’d been ready to meet his Maker and had probably accepted his impending death.

Hope just didn’t know if she accepted it.

For months now, she’d longed for the moment their lives would be joined in marriage. She couldn’t understand how God could connect her life with Paul’s and then rip him away before she’d ever known the comfort of his embrace.