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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.”
Chapter Three
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.
She’d left all she’d known to join him here in Boulder. With not a single penny to her name, she had no way of returning to Boston. Aaron and his doctor brother were the only souls she knew in this rough-and-tumble land.
And all she could think about right now was the next few minutes and how she would try to hold herself together in front of them.
Standing, she wrapped poise around her like some warm and comforting quilt, hoping that she had what it would take to walk through this alone. She crossed to the heavy oak paneled door and opened it, willing her wobbly legs not to give out on her as she left the room. She resisted the urge to hug her arms to her chest as her mother had always cautioned her, saying that it appeared weak and unladylike.
Well, if ever there was a time where Hope felt weak, it was now. But being alone, she couldn’t afford to be weak.
She couldn’t afford anything—not even a bowl of soup for her next meal.
The irony of her situation stared her in the face like some fierce predator from the surrounding mountains. She drew her arms to her sides and met the three men’s watchful gazes.
“I’m sorry. We did everything we could to keep him alive.” Ben’s voice was low, tight. “He wanted to hang on long enough to talk with you. But I couldn’t—”
“I wouldn’t have wanted him to suffer any more than he did.” She unfurled her fisted hands, trying to ignore her need for a little consolation. “He must have been in terrible pain.”
The studying glance Aaron cast her way left her feeling as if he’d tried to take a peek inside her soul.
She touched her delicate lace-trimmed neckline, suddenly feeling vulnerable.
“I’m sorry about this, ma’am.” The other brother offered her his hand, and she shook it. “Name’s Zach, by the way.”
She struggled to stay collected at his caring demeanor. “Thank you, Zach.”
“This has to be a shock,” he added.
Nodding, she pulled her mouth tight against the cry that begged for escape. “I’m still trying to make sense of it all. I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to do now.”
“We’ll take care of funeral arrangements and Paul’s body.” Aaron swiped a hand over his forehead, glancing over her shoulder to the bedroom. “Don’t worry about that, all right?”
She nodded. “I’m grateful.”
Ben stepped a little closer, his expression crimped with compassion. “Paul really cared for you, ma’am. He wanted to make sure you were well cared for.”
She glanced up at him, confused. Well cared for? Though she didn’t, for a moment, doubt Paul’s desire to take care of her, he couldn’t very well do that from the grave. “I don’t understand.”
On a loud exhale, Ben pulled a hand over his dirt-smudged face. “When Sheriff Goodwin was out here, Paul made arrangements for you to have this farmstead,” he said, gesturing out the windows where fields stretched wide and big fat cows mulled about in the corral. “And also for his bank account in town to be transferred to your name, ma’am.”
Hope swallowed hard, turning her wide-eyed gaze from the windows, where the early evening sun poured through the glass panes, to stare at Ben. Had Paul truly thrown her such an enormous lifeline?
“The farm belongs to you,” Ben measured out as if realizing her shock. “As well as all of Paul’s money.”
She glanced at Zach, who gave her a gentle smile and slight nod as if to verify his brother’s words. But when she slid her attention to Aaron, she almost startled at the fear that contorted his face.
“Are you feeling all right?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“I’m fine.” He dodged her gaze, the muscles at his strong jaw line pulsating.
Ben dipped his head down as if to grab her attention. “I don’t know what the amount is in his account, but knowing Paul, I’m fairly certain there’s at least enough there for you to live comfortably for many years to come.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “I—I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say a thing,” Zach responded.
“But we hadn’t even married yet.” She fingered the silk brocade fabric of her skirt, feeling uncomfortable and yet next to tears at Paul’s extreme generosity. “And what of his sister? I know that he has a sister living in the area, too, doesn’t he?”
“Jane lives at the edge of Paul’s property in a small home of her own. She’s out of town until tomorrow morning—at least that’s what the sheriff said. He and Mrs. Duncan pretty much know everybody’s business in town,” Zach answered, a knowing grin tipping his mouth. “But I’m sure Jane will support Paul’s decision. She’s nice enough.”
“Yeah, I don’t think you’ll have any problems there,” Aaron confirmed, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Paul was adamant about this, ma’am.” Ben motioned for them to move toward the front room where a fire had been lit in the hearth.
She should feel glad for the warmth and comfort of the crackling flames licking around the logs, but for some reason nothing could take the chill from her soul. The farm…the bank account…Paul had known her circumstance and had seen to her future, without him. But could she start a new life alone?
“He said that he wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of. That was all he could think about in those last minutes he was able to talk.” With a heavy sigh, Ben eased himself down into the wood rocking chair flanking the fireplace.
Zach plopped unceremoniously down into the damask sofa and hooked one arm over the back of it, staring over his shoulder out the window. “This farm is one of the best around.”
“Paul sure loved this land,” Aaron added as he motioned for her to sit down in a simply upholstered chair and then finally sat down next to Zach.
“It’s lovely. Really it is.” She glanced around the spacious home then outside to the fields. She didn’t even know what to compare this farm to. Apart from the flowering plants in the greenhouse her family kept, she’d never even been close enough to touch a crop. “But I must admit…I don’t know the first thing about farming.”
The knowing glances Aaron exchanged with his brothers left Hope wishing she could hear their thoughts.
“Mind you, I’m not completely unfamiliar with how things grow.” With a small amount of relief, she recalled how her family had employed both a gardener and a stable hand full time. And the property wasn’t even close to this size. “I’m certain the farmhands will be an invaluable help with everything were I to have questions.”
Ben cleared his throat. “He’s worked the land himself for five years now.”
She furrowed her brow, certain that she must’ve heard him wrong. “Alone? You mean he had no farmhands?”
Aaron shook his head. “Not Paul. He’d work from sunup to sundown. Alone.”
“But I—I’ve never—” She couldn’t even begin to imagine herself planting seeds or feeding those big black and brown cows or the squawking chickens she’d spotted.
Once, in a letter, she’d told Paul that she’d gladly work beside him on the farm. She’d meant every word. She wanted to love what he loved. But she’d pictured scattering flower seeds or filling a small basket with carrots she’d picked herself. She hadn’t imagined running the place.
“I know this is a lot to think about.” Ben braced his hands on his knees. “Paul did say that if by summer’s end you aren’t happy here that you can sell the place and do with the money what you will.”
She gave her head a distraught shake. “I couldn’t do that to him.”
“Well, Paul seemed to think you might…that you might need some help.” Aaron looked about as taut as a tightly strung bow. “I promised him I’d help, and that’s what I’m going to do.”
With the forced way he’d said those last few words, Hope would’ve guessed that his mother had been standing behind him, twisting his ear.
She absolutely did not want him helping out of some sense of duty. “I’m sure I can manage.”
Aaron gave her an I-don’t-believe-you-for-a-second look. Quite honestly, she didn’t believe herself either. Why in the world would she make such a claim? She could barely saddle a horse, let alone run a farm.
But when she thought of Paul’s tremendous generosity and thoughtfulness, she couldn’t bear the thought of not doing her best to honor his efforts with toiling of her own. “I’ll do my best to make sure his hard work isn’t wasted.”
“I’m sure you mean well, but this farm is a lot to take on. And I promised him I’d help,” Aaron reiterated as though to convince himself. He stood and crossed to the mantel, his well-worn boots scuffing across the polished wood floor. With his back to Hope, she could see the tension bunching his muscles beneath his ecru shirt as he leaned against the mantel. “I also promised him that I’d take care—” he pivoted slow and steady, peering at her as though he faced a firing squad “—take care of you.”
Hope couldn’t move her gaze from him as his words settled over her. For some reason, instead of bringing her comfort, they annoyed her. How could Aaron think that he could take Paul’s place? Or that she needed his help? “Take care of me?”
He glanced at Ben, who gave him the slightest raise of an eyebrow and inclination of his head. Then Aaron slid his focus to Zach, who held out his hands as if to say, “It’s up to you.”
With a cough, Aaron turned his complete attention to Hope, and for some reason she wanted to run all the way back to the train station. He’d been avoiding her gaze since the moment she’d introduced herself, and now that his focus was bearing down so totally upon her, she squirmed under the intensity.
But she had nowhere to go. Apparently she had money now, but she also had a farm to run.
“I—I know this is awkward. It is for me, too, but I…well, it meant something to Paul when I promised to take care of you.”
“What, exactly, do you mean?” She forced herself to stay seated.
She’d never run from difficult circumstances. Ever. When her family lost their fortune, she’d held her head high and found work at a bakery. And when her fiancé began showing signs of regret, she’d quietly bowed out of the relationship—her family hadn’t even known of the real reason the engagement had been called off.
“I promised to hold on to hope.” His voice broke. His throat visibly constricted. “In Paul’s mind that meant that I’d marry you.”
Hope strained to keep her shock from contorting her face, but she was pretty sure that she failed—miserably.
