Pamela Nissen - Brides of the West - Josie's Wedding Dress / Last Minute Bride / Her Ideal Husband

“I know. But I don’t want to step on Josie’s toes.”

“It’s my home, too. You’re invited for supper any time.”

“Thank you.” Ty bent and kissed her cheek. “Good night, Mrs. Bright.”

“Good night, Ty.”

He left through the front door, closed it and glanced at the porch swing. Instead of the vacant spot he expected, he saw Josie and froze. In the grayish light, her auburn hair stood out like a flame. Her skin had the luster of pearls, and her turquoise eyes matched the twilight sky. He couldn’t stop looking at her…all those years in prison, he’d tried to forget her. He thought he’d succeeded, but looking at her now, he knew the truth. This woman owned his heart lock, stock and barrel. He’d never stopped loving her and he never would.

To keep from hurting, he focused on the most ordinary of things. “Thanks for supper. You always were a good cook.”

“I enjoy it, even if it’s just for Mama.”

She sounded lonely in the mournful way of the wind. Ty knew that sound well. In prison he’d stand in the yard behind the fifteen-foot walls, not feeling the wind but hearing the hollow sound of it. No one could understand unless they’d stood in that spot. He understood Josie because they’d both sat on that swing. They’d both grieved for what might have been, but she didn’t want that kinship. Unable to help her, he walked away.

“Ty?”

He faced her. “Yes?”

“Can you really win the Maze?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all anyone can ask.”

He waited, hoping she’d say something else, but she turned her head and stared at the pinkish horizon. There was no romance in the sunset, no hope in the fading light, so he murmured, “Good night, Josie,” and walked alone to the bunkhouse.

He wouldn’t be sleeping behind bars tonight, but in a way he’d entered a prison of another kind, one that could only be unlocked by Josie’s forgiveness. Whether she knew it or not, she was trapped behind the same wall. The sweet girl he’d loved had turned into a hard woman. It troubled him greatly.

“Help her, Lord,” Ty said out loud. “Help us both.”

* * *

Josie stayed on the swing, watching Ty’s long stride as he walked away from the house. When she’d asked him about winning the race, she’d expected bravado and bragging. The old Ty would have been full of talk. The new one had a humility that confused her. She couldn’t trust boastfulness, but she admired honesty. As he neared the barn, he faded from her sight, changing from a man to a shadow and then to a memory. One memory led to another, until she recalled waiting for him at the church. When Nate delivered the news of the arrest, her mother had comforted her. Anne, the middle sister and Josie’s maid of honor, had explained to the guests. Scarlett, a junior bridesmaid, had looked stricken.

The next day Josie had visited Ty in jail. He’d insisted the trial would blow over. He’d shown no respect for how hurt she’d been, how the delay tainted what should have been a beautiful day. Two weeks later she’d watched guards load him into the black prison wagon. He’d stared at her through the bars, apologizing with his eyes and mouthing, “I love you, Josie. I’m so sorry… .”

She’d said nothing back. In that moment, her bitterness had taken root. It lived in her heart the way the dress stayed in her wardrobe—wrapped tight, sealed, unchanging. She didn’t want to be resentful, but she didn’t know how to stop the ugly feelings. Her mother had encouraged her to trust God through the sadness, but Josie didn’t have the will. She went to church because someone had to take her mother, but she didn’t listen to the sermons. Neither did she pray, though tonight she recalled the girl who’d loved God and Ty Donner with her whole heart.

Her throat ached with unspoken words…angry words that burst out with unexpected force. “God? Are You listening? I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to hate my life, and I don’t want to lose the ranch. Mama says I have to forgive Ty, but I can’t. It’s just too hard. He hurt me! He ruined everything! Why did You let it happen? Why?” With her eyes squeezed tight, she choked out, “Amen.”

The prayer brought no relief, no peace. She looked accusingly at the stars, then down to the bunkhouse. A light flared in a window, a sign Ty had arrived and lit a lamp. She thought of his honesty concerning the race, the way he took orders without quarreling. He’d changed. Josie wanted to change too, but mostly she wanted to rake him over hot coals. But she wouldn’t. She’d stay behind her wall of indifference where he couldn’t possibly hurt her.

Chapter Four

“I’m not feeling well,” Mrs. Bright said to her daughter. “You and Ty go to church without me.”

Ty had just knocked on the door and was waiting for the women on the porch. He hadn’t expected to be going to Sunday services, but last night Mrs. Bright asked him to do the driving. The three of them had been having supper, another invitation from Mrs. Bright, when she’d asked the favor.

He didn’t want to step on Josie’s toes, so he’d looked at her for permission. She shrugged and said he could do whatever he liked. He liked going to church, so he’d accepted the invitation with a politeness that matched Josie’s. He’d been at the ranch for two weeks now, and they hadn’t exchanged a single sharp word. The place no longer looked neglected and Smoke had regained his fitness, but Ty was no closer to winning Josie’s forgiveness. If Mrs. Bright stayed home, the ride to town would be colder than January.

He might have backed out of the trip, but he had another reason for going to town. Wayne Cooper, an old friend and the owner of the livery stable, ran the May Day Maze. Ty needed to sign up for the race, and he wanted to hear about the competition. First, though, he had to get to town. He’d always been punctual, but prison had honed that tendency into nervousness. Being late to church made him uneasy, so he knocked again on the doorjamb. “Josie? Mrs. Bright? It’s getting late.”

Mrs. Bright called to him. “Josie’s on her way.”

Ty heard whispering, stepped back to the carriage and waited until Josie came out of the house alone. Her green dress made him wish he’d dressed up a little more. So did her prim hat and white gloves. When he offered to hand her into the carriage, she accepted as if he were a footman. He climbed up next to her and took the reins with Josie glaring at the road. “This wasn’t my idea,” she grumbled.

Hoping to ease the mood, he kept his voice light. “Mine neither, but I can’t say I mind.”

“I do.”

“It’s a pretty day.”

“It’s too warm.”

She’d disagree with whatever he said, so he said nothing. After a mile, he glanced at her profile. Her gaze had the stonelike quality he’d seen in the eyes of inmates with the longest sentences and the least amount of hope. He’d kept his distance from Josie out of respect, but now he wondered if he’d made a mistake. All that anger was simmering. A good stew got better with a time on the fire, but coffee burned and turned bitter.

Josie needed to empty her coffeepot, so to speak. If she couldn’t do it herself, Ty would do it for her. The worst thing about prison for Ty had been the helplessness. That’s why the Sunday services in the dining hall had appealed to him. His renewed faith had given him a sense of purpose. Josie had the ranch to fight for, but he had the feeling she really wanted to fight with him. If she needed a sparring partner, he’d be glad to oblige. He’d been a cocky kid. He could be an equally cocky man. “Give it up, Josie. If you want to yell at me, just do it.”