“I don’t believe that, Jake.” She drew her coat closer around her neck, a cold mountain wind blowing her hair away from her face. “We’ll make them understand.”
“No.” He came closer, his dark eyes determined. “I don’t want you ever to tell them. We’ll find a peaceful place in California to settle. They don’t ever need to know.”
She frowned. “Jake, my own father used to say that telling the truth right away was always better than letting it be found out some other way further on in life. It saves a lot of hurt and misunderstanding.”
“I mean it, Randy. If you ever say anything, I’ll leave, because I’m not going to stay around and have my children look at me with that shame. I don’t ever want them to know. You’ve got to promise me.”
“Jake—”
“Promise me! I never want them to know about my past.”
She folded her arms, seeing again that little-boy fear in his eyes. “All right. I think you’re wrong, Jake. If they find out later, it will be worse, but if that’s what you want, I’ll agree to it.” The wind suddenly blew a little harder, and she shivered, something deep inside telling her the promise she had just made was a decision they would both one day regret.
Jake breathed deeply in relief. “I found an honest-to-goodness doctor in town,” he told her. “I think you should go and see him, get to know him. At least you’ll have some help when the time comes. Soon as that baby is born and you’re both strong enough, we’ll get the hell out of this place.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry about Wes.”
Miranda looked back at the grave. “We used to be close when we were little. Now that I think about it, he seemed to start drawing away after Mother died. My father was so lost in his own grief, he didn’t pay any attention. I don’t think any of us realized how much her death affected him.” She looked back at Jake, realizing how much more traumatic for him the death of his own mother had been. She reached out and took his hand. “Let’s go back.”
Those who had attended the funeral nearby had broken up and were also leaving. Miranda glanced their way, only then realizing that the preacher for the service had been Wilbur Jennings. She drew in her breath, and Jake frowned. “What is it?”
“It’s Preacher Jennings!” She left him and briskly walked closer to the man. Jennings and his wife stopped still when they saw her, and Miranda noticed that one of the man’s brothers was also with him. She saw no sign of Clarence.
“Mrs. Hayes!” Preacher Jennings looked startled and immediately began to redden.
“Well, if it isn’t the fine preacher,” Miranda said, loud enough for some of the other people leaving to hear. They stopped and turned. “Have you told the people here the truth about the kind of man you really are?” Her grief and the strain of the last two days made her want to lash out at someone. What better target than this man who had left her to die! She turned to the rest of them. “You can tell any others who listen to this man preach about God and faith and goodness that he’s a hypocrite! I traveled partway here with the good preacher and his family from Kansas—”
“Please, Mrs. Hayes,” Opal spoke up, her face pale.
Miranda glanced at her. “You’re as guilty as your husband,” she sneered. “And my name is Turner, Mrs. Jake Turner. It’s only thanks to my new husband that I am alive today! He found me at that trading post, dying, being abused by those horrible men you knew good and well wouldn’t take good care of me!” She looked at the others again, as Jake stepped up behind her. “The Reverend Jennings left me behind at a stinking, dirty trading post back in Nebraska after I had been bitten by a snake,” she told them. “His own nephew tried to rape me before that, and the preacher chose to believe the boy when he said I had done the seducing! It was a lie! That is how forgiving the preacher is. Even if it had been true, a true Christian would have given me the benefit of the doubt, would have still seen to my safety until others came along with whom I could travel. Instead he chose to leave me behind like a dying mule!” She looked back at Jennings. “Never have I known such pain and humiliation. Mr. Turner came along and rescued me from that filthy place and lanced my wound to drain the infection! He saved my life, while you continued on as though I never existed!”
“Reverend, is that true?” one of those in the funeral party asked.
“I…it wasn’t quite that way. I mean…” He looked at his wife. “Say something, Opal!” The man’s stammering told the others all they needed to know.