“I—” He cleared his throat. “I—reckon the first one we have won’t be another honeymoon baby.”
Silently, she nodded.
They gave each other a chaste hug in the hallway, then went to separate rooms. Dylan stared at the dinky twin bed as he unsnapped his shirt. He’d pledged himself to Christ and had waited all these years for his wedding night. So here it was. But he was alone, and the woman he loved couldn’t bear the thought of sharing a bed with him.
❧
They sat across the breakfast table in aching silence. The empty inches between them at the table might have just as well been miles. Sondra poked at the runny yolk of her egg, and Dylan gulped down scorching hot coffee. The idea of starting each day of the rest of her life awkwardly searching for something to say made her shudder.
“You okay?”
She forced a smile. “I, um. . .usually don’t eat my eggs over easy. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Listen, you don’t need to get up this early to make breakfast.”
Squaring her shoulders, Sondra said, “Hold it right there. As I recall, you’re the one who recently said anything worth doin’ is worth doin’ right. No sliding by.”
“Oh, ho. So you’re tossin’ my words back at me, are you?”
Her fork skidded through the egg and scraped on the plate. She couldn’t bear to look at him as she mumbled, “This might not be one of those Valentine’s-y kind of marriages, but some things aren’t negotiable. This is one of them.”
“Fine.” He rose from the table, stuck his plate in the sink, and popped a Cheerio into Matthew’s mouth. Without another word, he left.
Sondra dumped her eggs down the sink and let out a shaky breath.
Lord, I don’t know what to do. Give me strength and help me to become the wife Dylan needs.
The next day, they barely spoke. Everything was ultra-polite. Only the most essential things were said, and the most necessary ones went left unsaid. They tucked Matt into his crib and prayed over him, then sat in the living room where the only sounds were the rustling of the newspaper and the tick of the clock. At bedtime, Dylan slept in the guest room again.
Over the following week, he was his usual, helpful self. Sondra pasted on a smile and tried to do as much as she could around the house. She paid bills, sewed buttons on Dylan’s shirts, made nice meals, and set about trying to blend in some of the things from Dylan’s house so this place would feel more like home.
More like home? This wouldn’t ever be his home. He already regretted marrying her. She sat down to rock Matt and blinked back tears. Again.
The porch screen banged. “I brought over another box of Dylan’s stuff,” Teresa said. “I’ll stick this on your bed.”
“Just leave it there.” Desperate to keep Teresa from knowing Dylan wasn’t sharing her room, Sondra blurted out, “Dylan will carry it back later.”
“Okay.”
Thud.
The box landed on the floor. “I’m moving our stuff into the Laughingstock. If you need something, call, and I’ll see if I can find it. I’m telling you, Dylan was alone in that house for six months, and everything’s in the wrong place.”
“New isn’t wrong; it’s just different.”
“You tell her, honey,” Dylan said from the doorway.
“Oh, boy. You’re just like Mom and Dad were—the united front, absolutely indivisible.”
“Yup.” Dylan jerked his thumb toward the box. “What’s in that?”
“Stuff from the closet shelf. Jeff just dumped it all in there for me.”
Sondra gave her a mock look of outrage. “You have no room to talk about our teamwork. You and Jeff are quite a pair yourselves.”
“I seem to remember you having a hand truck. Mind if I borrow it?”
“Help yourself. It’s out in the barn.” Sondra stood and slipped Matt into his playpen. “I’ve used it to move bales of hay, so you might want to hose it off.”
“Okay. Why don’t you come over tomorrow and take whatever you want? There’s some stuff in the kitchen you might like that belonged to Mom or Grandma.”
“Don’t you want it?” Sondra couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice.
“I took a few things that had sentimental value to me, but you’re family, and the two of you ought to have some of it, too.”
Dylan slid his arm around Sondra’s waist. “Sure. You took Mom’s china. Maybe we’ll take Grandma’s. There’s this huge old turkey platter. . . .”
“Oh, boy. He’s going to start drooling any minute.” Laughing, Teresa gave them a quick hug. “I’m getting out of here. See you tomorrow!”
Dylan hefted the box and carried it off to the guest room. When he sauntered back in, he took one look at Sondra and silently grabbed the tissue box. Setting it closer to the rocking chair, he somberly looked into her brimming eyes. He sat down heavily on the coffee table, leaned forward so his forearms rested on his thighs, and let his hand dangle. “Guess we’d better talk.”
Sondra slipped into the rocking chair.
If only he’d wrapped his arms around me or wanted to sit beside me on the couch.
He waited a long second, then said very quietly, “I can’t live like this.”
Twenty-one
Sondra looked at him and tried to choke back a sob.
“I’m not good at this stuff,” he rasped.
Before he could say more or she could respond, the phone rang. And rang. And rang. Neither of them moved. The answering machine clicked.
“Dylan? Sondra? This is Troy Upton. I need you to come down to the sheriff’s office.”
Dylan heaved a sigh and headed for the phone. Sondra listened as he spoke. The conversation was short and cryptic. When he hung up, he came back to her and rubbed his forehead. “Something’s up, but I’m not sure what. We need to go there now.”
Sondra threw a few essentials into a diaper bag while Dylan washed up. They didn’t do much talking on the road. Sondra kept hearing his words echo in her mind.
I can’t live like this. . . .
She glanced at his profile, then stared out the window.
God, what should I do? Love isn’t supposed to hurt like this.
As he pulled into a parking place, Dylan murmured, “I’ll grab PeeWee.”
Diaper bag slung over her shoulder, Sondra walked along-side Dylan down the sidewalk to the sheriff’s office. Dylan held the heavy door, and Sondra slipped inside. He always minded those simple courtesies, and it made her feel like a queen. “Thank—” Her voice died out, and she froze in place.
Dylan slid his warm palm to the small of her back and stood beside her.
“What’s he doing here?” Sondra inched closer to Dylan as she tried to focus anywhere other than on Miller’s brother, who sat in a room off to the side.
“I have a feeling we’re about to find out.”
“Hi, Dylan,” the receptionist said. “Y’all go on back to Troy’s office.”
Sondra looked around, and Dylan slipped his arm around her waist. “This way.” He led her down a short hall and into an office. “What’s up, Troy?”
“I need to ask you folks a few questions.” As soon as they were seated, he asked, “Sondra, have you given away anything of Miller’s?”
She gave him a surprised look. “Some of the furniture went to the Battered Women’s Society.” When he nodded and still looked as if he expected more, she continued, “His clothes and books went to the bunkhouse.”
“Miller put his money into the ranch, not into things,” Dylan said. “My wife was generous, though. She gave me that antique cavalry blanket—”
The sheriff whistled under his breath.
“—and Miller’s favorite pocket knife. She made sure each of the hands got something special of Miller’s, but why don’t you tell us what this is all about?”
“What about Miller’s rodeo buckles?”
“Oh.” Sondra smiled. “Miller kept those in a case in the bottom drawer. They’re beautiful. I thought maybe I’d have them framed.”
“So you didn’t give them away.” The sheriff squinted at her.
“No. Why?”
“Those aren’t just pretty, honey. They’re valuable.” Dylan and Troy exchanged a look.
“Anywhere from one hundred to five thousand dollars apiece.” The sheriff bent down and put a box on his desk.
Sondra gaped at it. “That’s Miller’s!”
The sheriff opened the lid. “And the buckles?”
“Miller’s,” Dylan grated.
“I can confirm that by the event dates on some of them, but others are antiques and can’t be traced. I needed you to confirm these were his and hadn’t been given away.”
“I’ve seen a file on the computer. I can e-mail it to you,” Sondra said.
Tense as could be, Dylan demanded, “How did you get these?”
“The tire tracks we found by the fencing when the cattle were poisoned narrowed the make and model.”
“So they were poisoned. It wasn’t an accident.” Sondra looked at Dylan.
He readjusted Matt in his arms. “I didn’t have solid proof. Just a strong hunch.”
“We’ve been following leads. When we searched the car, we found these and something else.” The sheriff picked up a clear plastic envelope and laid it on the desk.
Sondra leaned forward and froze. The bag contained a pair of wedding bands. One was cut.
Kenny’s and mine.
❧
“Can you identify these?” Troy asked as Dylan watched his wife’s reaction.
She nodded. “They’re my wedding set—my old one.”
“Are you sure?” the sheriff pressed.
“Yes.” She turned to Dylan. “Someone has been in our house.”
“Miller’s brother,” Dylan confirmed.
“But I wrote and asked if there was something he’d like to have. He made it clear he didn’t want anything.” Her voice shook. “He didn’t have to sneak in and steal.”
“Troy?” Someone from the doorway waved an envelope. “It’s a match.”
“Book him and add arson to the charges.” Troy looked at Dylan. “Matched his footprint.”
Dylan grimaced. “Why?”
“He invested his inheritance in that developing company.”
Tears filled Sondra’s eyes. “I would have given him the buckles.”
But she’s upset about Kenny’s ring.
That galled Dylan. No matter how much he loved her, her heart still belonged to another man.
“Thanks for coming in.” Troy rose.
Dylan took the hint. They’d come and identified the stolen goods. There wouldn’t be any more sabotage. He and Sondra stood. The rings on her left hand sparkled as she reached for the diaper bag. To his surprise, she didn’t look back at the rings on the desk. She reached for Matt and snuggled him close.
“We already logged in this evidence. You’re welcome to take it home.”
“That would be nice.” To Dylan’s surprise, Sondra didn’t sound desperately relieved. She looked up at him. “Maybe someday Matt would like those rings.”
The sheriff nodded. “That’s a fine idea. Speaking of rings, no one reckoned you’d slip a ring on Sondra’s finger and secure the Curly Q at the last minute. Edwin’s sabotage almost worked.”
Dylan shook his head. “My plan was to make the Curly Q turn a stellar profit so Sondra would know I wanted her for herself—not for her land. The sabotage moved up the date is all. The provision in the will was just an excuse for me to wed this woman. I’d have done so in the months ahead.”
Troy chuckled. “I guessed as much. Folks have had a high old time watching you fall for Sondra.”
“I fell all right.” Dylan looked into Sondra’s eyes. He was taking a huge leap of faith here, but he’d been about to speak with her back home. God opened a door for him to tell Sondra how he felt, and he couldn’t slam it shut. “What started out as a simple partnership between us because of Miller’s will grew into something soul-deep.”
Tears glittered in her eyes. She dropped the diaper bag and slipped her hand into his.
He added, “What started out as accepting Miller’s will turned into following God’s will.”
They headed toward home, but Sondra remained silent. Dylan couldn’t take it anymore. “We’ve gotta talk.”
Sondra leaned against the headrest and closed her eyes. “Last time we had a serious talk in the car, we agreed Matt would call you daddy.”
“Things there are settled. It’s the you-me stuff that needs ironing out. I just announced that I love you, and you haven’t said a thing.”
She hitched her shoulder and looked out the window. “You didn’t exactly say you love me. I understand. You said this wasn’t a Valentine’s-y, romantic marriage. I know you do love me—as your Christian sister.”
Dylan pulled over to the side of the road. In the end, it all boiled down to this. “Is that all I am to you? Just your brother in the Lord? Someone you married because you think this was God’s will, even if it wasn’t yours?”
Very slowly, she turned toward him. Her eyes opened and filled with tears. “No. You and Matt and Jesus—you’re my whole world.” Her voice broke. “But I understand that love can be one-sided. I haven’t done anything to deserve your love.”
“Honey pie, I’m wild about you. God taught us that love isn’t earned. It’s freely given. Believe me, I have a heart full of love to give you.” He proved it, too, with a heated kiss. He pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. “Believe me, I’m not feeling very brotherly right now. I’m crazy in love with you.”