Authors: Brenda Minton
Only the intervention of God Himself could prevent such a disaster.
And why should He bother? Robin knew in her heart of hearts that she did not possess the purity of Mary, the mother of Jesus, or the faith of Joseph. All she had at the moment were doubts and fears for Ethan. She no longer cared what the Shaws might say or do to her. She only cared what might happen to Ethan. He deserved success in his first pastorate. He deserved happiness. He loved Jasper Gulch. This had become his home, and he should be able to stay here and enjoy all the respect and support that were his due.
She had seen firsthand today what sort of pastor he could be, how powerfully he could bring the word of God alive for the people, how greatly they respected him for it. How could she possibly let anyone damage that?
Rusty assumed that Lucy would want Robin to have her share of the gold, but Lucy had spoken only of family to Robin. Plus, Lucy had given up everything for the man she loved. She had protected him in the only way she knew how. Robin could do no less.
As they cleared up the dinner leftovers and stacked the dishes in the dishwasher, Robin pondered the situation and wondered if she was making a mistake by telling the Shaws the truth. She'd been so moved by Ethan's sermon, so challenged by his courage, that she'd acted impulsively, and now she was having second thoughts.
“They've lived all this time believing Lucy was dead, and they'd never have an opportunity to know her now, so what harm is there in letting them go on believing that she died that day in 1926?” Robin asked.
“It isn't the truth.”
“The bridge is going to reopen anyway!” she argued.
“And what of Rusty, sweetheart?”
“He's kept her secret this long,” she insisted. “Let him take it to his grave.”
“He was protecting Lucy,” Ethan pointed out softly. “She no longer needs his protection. It's unfair to ask him to carry that lie any further. And what of you? Are you to live with the lie, as well?”
“If I must,” she said, lifting her chin.
“Please don't be bound by your fear for me.”
She gulped and looked away. “What kind of person would I be if I didn't consider the ramifications of my actions on my friends?”
“Robin, you don't know what Jackson Shaw will do.”
“I know what he's capable of.”
“We're all capable of great foolishness and even evil, Robin,” Ethan pointed out. “Otherwise, the redemptive action of the cross would not have been necessary. I myself have suffered great failures, of which you know nothing.”
“You're not responsible for your father's actions, Ethan.”
“That's not the point. The point is, Jackson may surprise you. I've seen it before.”
“How can I take the chance?”
“Just try to have a little faith. God has a way of working things out for our best, even bad things.”
“Still,” she argued, “if we can prevent the bad in the first place, isn't that best?”
“Perhaps so,” he admitted, “but sometimes we must endure the bad to get to the good.”
“I can't risk your future on
perhaps
and
sometimes
!” she exclaimed.
“Robin,” Ethan said sternly, “my future is not in your hands.”
Well, that was putting it starkly. She had never really believed that she and Ethan would wind up together, that she could truly have him. All along she was always going to wind up back in New Mexico working for the Templeton Foundation for Scientific Research at some cobbled-together job dreamed up by her snobbish but well-meaning parents. Someday they'd present an unobjectionable fellow to her, and she'd be too tired of being alone and too uncaring to resist and so find herself married to him, drifting along with whatever he and her parents wanted. But at least she'd know that she'd done the best thing for a truly good man.
“I'm sure you're right,” she answered stiffly, wondering if it was possible to shatter from disappointment. She'd all but decided not to meet with the Shaws, but she made a show of checking the time anyway. “I'd best be going.”
Turning, she marched blindly into the hallway. Ethan followed, right on her heels.
“Going to see the Shaws, I presume?”
“That's my business,” she told him smartly, arriving at the coat closet.
As soon as she pulled the door open, he reached past her and took her coat from the hanger. “I think I should go with you.”
Pretending unconcern, she slipped her arms into the sleeves of her coat and let him tug it up onto her shoulders before reaching for her handbag.
“That's not necessary.” She tossed him a smile, keeping her eyelids lowered so he wouldn't see the glisten of her gathering tears. “Thanks for the meal. I enjoyed seeing your house.”
“You're welcome,” he retorted sharply. “Come again any time.”
She nodded, gulped and marched for the door. He stopped her just as she turned the lovely crystal knob.
“If you don't tell them, Robin, I will.”
Horrified, she whirled to face him. “Why? Why would you do that?”
Certainty seemed to wash over him, wiping away the anger. He slid his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Because of the collar I wear. Because the Shaws deserve the truth. But it's more than that. This whole town has lived under the bondage of a series of lies for nearly a century. It's impacted their finances, their relationships, access to the town, their safety, even the bells in the church!” He stabbed a finger at the building across the street. “But most of all, for you. This has to end, Robin. You have to be free of it.”
He was right, she realized. The truth had to come out, one way or another. So be it. As long as it didn't reflect on him. Nodding, she stepped out onto the porch and turned to face him.
“Fine,” she said, “I'll tell them everything.”
“Good,” he replied, following her to the door. “I'll be praying for you.”
She would need his prayers. Oh, how she would need his prayers, and not just about the Shaws. Somehow she had to find the strength to survive leaving this place and this man, for that was what it would come down to in the end.
That was always how it was going to be, no matter that it broke her heart.
Chapter Twelve
R
obin could barely think as she drove through town and out toward the Shaw ranch. She was already grieving the outcome. She knew as well as she knew her own name that her only option after this would be to leave town. She only hoped that Jackson would allow her to stay long enough for her to fulfill her commitments to Ethan. She doubted that she would be able to remain past Christmas Day, however. Her job would very likely end within the next hour.
When the lavish log ranch house with the neat metal roof came into view, a strange calm settled over her. The Shaws had chosen the perfect backdrop for their sprawling two-story home. The cloud-dappled blue of the sky and the snowcapped peaks of the evergreen ridges of the mountains reflected in the frozen mirror of the small lake between the great house and the grouping of dusky-red outbuildings. A winding driveway led to a broad archway decorated with a large, impressive statue of a horse rendered in open metalwork. Everything about the place bespoke money and power, but it also had an aura of peace and home about it.
Robin pulled up in front of the tall, handsomely carved door at not quite half past two. She folded her hands over the top of the steering wheel and said a quick prayer for strength, the right words and favor, ending with, “And please, Lord, whatever happens, don't let this rebound badly on Ethan. He's done nothing but good here and doesn't deserve to suffer for my poor judgment.”
When she opened her eyes and looked around, she saw that Julie Shaw Travers had come out to greet her. Julie had traded her Sunday best for jeans, boots and a royal blue ribbed turtleneck. She'd caught her long, auburn hair in a loose froth of curls beneath her left ear. At least Robin didn't feel underdressed in her long, A-line, brown wool skirt and matching corduroy jacket worn with a black blouse, black hose and black boots. She opened the car door and got out. Slipping off her coat, she left it in her seat, along with her handbag. She left her keys in the ignition in anticipation of a quick getaway.
“Is the car okay here?” she asked Julie.
“Sure.”
Closing the car door, she quickly followed Julie into the house.
The entry hall had been built to impress, with a flagstone floor and a ceiling that soared two stories and showed off a broad, curving staircase that seemed to float in space. Julie waved for her to follow. Sucking in a deep breath, Robin dried her suddenly slick palms on her skirt and rounded a hammered-copper pot the size of a small bathtub filled with poinsettias.
The room that she entered was enormous. The first thing she saw was the Christmas tree. Eighteen feet tall if it was an inch, it twinkled with colored lights. Though many of the decorations appeared expensive, most were of the same homey variety that Mamie had used at the inn, and the effect, while stunning, was also somehow...endearing.
Lush cowhide rugs covered the flagstone floor, and colorful cushions littered the deep hearth of the massive stone fireplace, where a cheery fire blazed. Bulky, overstuffed leather furniture scattered across the large, airy, pine-paneled room. Various members of the family lounged about, talking, reading or watching football on the big-screen television that hung above the mantel, which dripped with holly and ivy that weaved in and around poinsettias, pinecones and candles. A beautiful crèche carved from horn occupied a long narrow table set against one wall. Christmas had come to the Shaw ranchâChristmas and truth.
Nadine and her daughter-in-law, Katie, came into the room at the same time Robin did. Katie carried a tray of steaming mugs.
“Oh, Robin,” Nadine said. “Sit down there and have a cup of cider.”
Robin sank onto the end of the nearest sofa, but her stomach rebelled at the very thought of swallowing anything. “No, thank you. I'm still stuffed from dinner.”
Katie placed the tray on a low, rectangular table and went to scoot into the oversize easy chair next to her husband, her legs draped over his, while Nadine passed a mug to Jackson, who glanced away from the television screen to nod at Robin. The sound on the TV was muted, so Cord and Adam immediately turned their attention to the newcomer.
“Hey, Robin,” Adam said, flipping a hand at her.
Julie's husband, Ryan, a popular bull rider, smiled absently at Robin, holding out his hand to his wife, who went immediately to his side, perching on the arm of the sofa near him. Robin had heard that he'd foregone any opportunity to compete in the National Rodeo Finals this year in order to get their ranch established, and she had to admire him for that.
“Where's Faith?” Nadine asked, glancing around the room.
“We're here.” Heads turned to find Faith and Dale Massey leaning over the railing of the upstairs landing. She waved. “Hi, Robin.”
Robin couldn't help smiling despite her nervousness. Faith and Dale looked so happy. And why shouldn't they be? In four days they would be married. “Hi.”
“Where's Austin?” Faith wanted to know, turning toward the staircase.
“Sent him out for firewood,” Jackson said, targeting Robin with his stare. Leaning forward, he took a remote-control device from the table next to the tray of drinks and pointed it at the television, switching it off. Then he set his mug on the table, sat back and crossed one booted ankle over a jeaned knee. While he regarded her, other members of the family helped themselves to mugs of cider, and Faith and Dale descended the stairs. “You have our attention, Miss Frazier,” he said, “or do you require Austin's presence, as well?”
Robin gulped. She'd planned a dozen different strategies for this, and only now did she decide how best to proceed. Pulling a simple paper copy of an old sepia photograph from the pocket of her jacket, she unfolded it and rose, passing it not to Jackson but to Cord. She'd been carrying around that old photo for weeks and weeks.
“Do you remember the day we came across the original of this?”
He looked at the photo and nodded. “I do, yes. I still can't get over how much you look like our great-great-grandmother Elaine.”
“Elaine,” Robin said, “is my middle name. My great-grandmother insisted on it.”
“Elaine is my middle name, too,” Faith spoke up.
Robin turned to look at her, nodding. “Yes. We're both named after our great-great-grandmother.” No one spoke. She glanced around at them before saying carefully, “Elaine Shaw was my great-great-grandmother, too.”
“So that's why...” Cord began, looking once more at the picture.
“But how could that be?” Julie asked. “Dad's the only direct descendant of Ezra Shaw.”
Jackson shook his head, shifting forward in his seat once more. “Won't do, Miss Frazier. My grandfather was Ezra's only living progeny, and my father was his only living heir, so you cannot possiblyâ”
“Lucy Shaw was my great-grandmother,” Robin interrupted, taking the bull by the horns.
The room fell utterly silent for the space of about five seconds. Then Jackson chuckled.
“That's preposterous.”
Suddenly, everyone was talking at once.
“She died going off the bridge.”
“The bridge has been closed ever since because of the accident.”
“Ezra never got over her death.”
“Stole his Model T, didn't she?”
“They didn't ever find a body,” someone pointed out.
Jackson shot to his feet, bringing the room to silence again. His expression thunderous, he shook a finger in Robin's face. “That. Is. Preposterous!”
Trembling, Robin backed up a step, but she didn't back down. “Lucy didn't die that day. She staged her death so she wouldn't have to marry Victor Fitzhugh.”
Scoffing, Jackson brought his hands to his hips. “Don't be ridiculous. Fitzhugh was a wealthy man.”
“Much, much older than her.”
“Older men married young girls all the time back then.”
“Ezra tried to force her to marry Fitzhugh to save the bank after Silas Massey looted it,” Robin stated pugnaciously.
Nadine gasped, and the others traded looks. Jackson just looked thunderous.
“How do you know about that?”
“My great-grandmother told me part of it,” Robin divulged carefully. “The rest I've put together since coming here.”
Jackson's expression turned ugly. “You scheming, conniving, lying, vicious littleâ”
“Jackson!” Nadine barked.
He broke off but insisted, “It's obvious she's used her position here to dig up information to use against us!”
“How am I using this against you?” Robin demanded. “My great-grandmother asked me on her deathbed to come here and make myself known to you. I have very little family back home in New Mexico, where she and Great-Grandpa Cyrus raised a daughter, who had two sons, one of them my father. Great-Grandma thought you'd welcome me. But she was very old, one hundred and three, and my parents thought she was hallucinating the whole tale. I had to be sure her stories were true before I approached you.”
“And what convinced you?” Jackson asked snidely.
“Well, it wasn't your money and consequence,” Robin snapped, folding her arms. “Ever hear of the Templeton Foundation for Scientific Research, Mr. Mayor?”
Jackson frowned.
Dale said, “It's a very well-endowed research foundation established by Jay Ralph Templeton, who made his fortune in mining.”
“Jay Ralph Templeton was my great-grandfather on my mother's side,” Robin informed them all. “My father and Lucy's grandson, Gary Frazier, is the CEO of the foundation.”
“Says you,” Jackson retorted.
“It's easily enough proved,” Robin pointed out. “Go ahead. Have me investigated. You'll find that Gary Lyle Frazier and Sheila Carol Templeton, both of the Templeton science foundation, are my parents.”
“Well, bully for you,” Jackson sneered. “So your father married up.”
“He happens to be your family, too,” she pointed out, insulted.
“You can't possibly prove that.”
“Maybe not at this moment,” she said, “but I'm not the only one who knows Lucy didn't die that day. Rusty Zidek knows. He's always known. He was there.”
“Rusty!” Julie yelped.
“Ask him, if you don't believe me,” Robin urged.
“You can't trust that old man,” Jackson asserted, punctuating the air with his hands. “Rusty is the next thing to senile.”
“Dad, you know that's not true!” Julie insisted.
“I've got nothing against the old man,” Jackson said, “but he's ninety-six. She probably planted
memories
in his head that never existed!”
Her voice trembling with anger now, Robin rounded on Jackson Shaw. “Whether you believe it or not, Mr. Mayor, Lucy Shaw faked her death so she could run away with my great-grandfather, Cyrus Gillette. They had a daughter, Dorothy Elaine, who married Lyle Frazier. Together they had two sons, Richard, a college professor who has never married, and my father, Gary, who married Sheila Templeton. Gary and Sheila had me.” She thumped herself in the chest. “Just me. So before her death, Great-Grandma Lucy, whom I knew as Lillian, sent me to you, and I came hoping to find family. Instead, I find just what my Templeton family warned me I would findâ jumped-up cowpokes and country bumpkins clinging to their consequence too tightly even to share a bit of welcome for one of their own!”
“My own are what matter most to me!” Jackson shouted.
“Really?” Robin sneered. “More than the Shaw-Massey gold? Evidence says otherwise! Well, cling to your gold, Mayor. I don't want it, I don't need it. And I don't need
you.
”
At the word
gold,
Nadine gasped again, and Jackson looked as if he would explode. Now he stabbed a finger at the entry hall, bawling, “Get out of my house!”
“With pleasure,” Robin returned sweetly. Then she shook her finger at him. “But don't think you're driving me out of town until I've done what I've promised to do here.”
Jackson's mouth dropped open. “What kind of man do you thinkâ”
“The kind who will ride roughshod over anyone to get what he wants! Well, you're not God Almighty, Mr. Jackson Shaw, no matter what you might think!” Suddenly dissolving in tears, she ran from the house.
Behind her, the room erupted with words.
“Is it possible Lucy didn't die?”
“What's this about Shaw-Massey gold?”
“You can't deny that she looks like Elaine Shaw.”
“I'm going to talk to Rusty.”
“Just be quiet, all of you!” Jackson roared as Robin pulled open the door.
Austin stood there in a shearling coat, his arms full of cordwood. “Robin,” he said, smiling. “Mom said you'd be dropping by. Thanks. I was beginning to think I was going to have to stand out here all night waiting for someone to let me in. How are you?”
She ran past him without a word. Obviously confused, he trailed her with those blue eyes so like her own, turning on his heel as she skirted the bumper of her car, yanked open the driver's door and dived behind the steering wheel. She was sobbing openly by the time she got the engine started.
All the way back to town, she meant to drive straight to the inn. She imagined calling her parents and telling them just how right they were about the Shaws then promising to return to New Mexico to start her new job with the foundation after the first of the year. The way Jackson had sneered at her parents had infuriated her. He knew nothing of them, and yet he had automatically assumed they were beneath him. And to think that she had scolded her mother for her snobbery toward the Shaws! Her parents would be elated to know that the Shaws had rejected her just as they'd predicted, and that she was coming home to take the job they'd created for her. Part of her couldn't help feeling defeated and disappointed, but after the hateful rejection she'd just received, it would feel good to be wanted. Besides, she'd known for some time how this thing would play out. She'd reconciled herself to it beforehandâexcept somehow she hadn't, which was why instead of driving to the inn, she drove straight to the church instead, not even to the parsonage, where she'd left Ethan earlier, but to the church, because something told her that was where he would be.