Rain Shadow(48)

Anton came fully awake and stared into the darkness. Kicking away the  coverlet, he allowed the air to cool his perspiring skin. He groped for  matches on his nightstand and lit the lantern. The water in the pitcher  on the wash-stand was cold, and he poured some into the bowl and  splashed his face and chest.

In the lantern's apricot glow, his harrowing reflection in the mirror  distressed him. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep in weeks, and  exhaustion was taking its toll. What had he done to himself? He delved  long fingers through his damp hair, gripping until his scalp hurt. It  wasn't supposed to be this way. He should have been working in his shop,  playing mosche balle with his brothers, courting Helena McLaury.

Pain lapped at the edges of his mind, rippled through his heart and  crested in the parched, barren wasteland of his soul. He gripped the  edge of the washstand and let the hurt roll over him in a mounting wave.  Black and turbulent, it raged through him, dashing every last defense  and leaving his heart raw and vulnerable.

He raised brimming eyes to the mirror and knew why he'd protected his  emotions from exposure for so many years. He hadn't been crazy in love  with Emily, but he'd cared for her and wanted things to be  different-better-than they had been. He'd been a bumbling fool, trying  in the only ways he knew how to make their marriage work, but he hadn't  tried hard enough. He'd hoped somehow things would fix themselves, but  they never had. Sometimes he understood that it wasn't because he was  unlovable that Emily hadn't been all that open to him. Other times he  had taken the fault, accepting there was something wrong with him.

But the failure had hurt. More than he'd been willing to admit to  himself or anyone else. The way she'd died was impossible to understand  or accept. She'd been pregnant with their second child and had begun  behaving erratically. In hindsight he should have seen that she wasn't  thinking straight, but he hadn't recognized how serious her problems  were until she'd told Lydia a lie. She'd claimed that the baby she  carried belonged to Jakob-Anton's brother. To this day Anton still  didn't understand why she'd made up such an outrageous lie, but she'd  sure created a mess in their family for a brief and confusing time.

It had been an outrageous lie, but before everyone calmed down and  realized that, Lydia had run off and Jakob had gone after her,  eventually bringing her home. Things had been strained after that, and  Emily had withdrawn even more. He'd known there was something wrong,  something deeper. He'd heard of women on the prairie going crazy and  doing unspeakable things, but she'd lived with his whole family and had  plenty of people to talk to. Her behavior went from withdrawn and sullen  to asking him to play out scenes where they had no children. That  should have chilled him to the bone, but it was easy to look back and  think he should have known.

What had happened next was what caused his nightmares. He'd been called  from the pasture where he and Jakob were repairing a fence. Lydia had  seen evidence that Emily had started a fire in the tack room. She'd  asked Lydia to come get Anton and locked herself inside the room, with  kerosene and bales of hay. She told Lydia to tell him she was trapped.  But she'd gone in there on purpose. It had never made any sense. That  was hard to live with.                       
       
           



       

All three brothers had worked to haul water and chop a hole in the outer  wall of the barn. Anton had glimpsed Emily standing inside, screaming  for him while rafters fell and flames licked at her clothing. He'd gone  in after her, with hot ash and splinters falling on his shoulders,  support beams splitting and falling, only to be cut off from her and  left helpless to reach her while she burned to death.

She and their baby.

Grief and guilt were multiplied by his short-sightedness in bringing her  here without knowing her, without knowing what to do with her, without  having the tools to fix what was wrong and prevent the tragedy. The  experience had left him unwilling to open himself up to anyone ever  again. Emily's name alone was a wound that had never healed. He'd  learned to live without a woman's love. He'd learned not to need  companionship beyond his son and brothers and father. The thought of  needing a woman terrified him. Where anyone other than Nikolaus had been  concerned, he'd carefully and methodically constructed a barrier around  his heart. It was a shell neither Sissy Clanton nor Helen McLaury could  have penetrated a shell Rain Shadow had dissolved in only a few short  weeks.

Rain Shadow. He winced. Thinking of her pierced his already ravaged heart.

A tap on the door startled him. The door opened, and Anton ran a hand across his face.

"You all right?" Johann padded into the room in rumpled drawers.

Anton nodded at his father. "Couldn't sleep."

"Seems to be going around." He sat at the foot of Anton's coverless bed. "We need our rest. Spring plantin's hard work."

Agreeing, Anton lowered himself to the bed's edge and eyed the pink scar in Johann's hairline. "You feeling okay?"

"Seems you're the one hurtin'."

Anton felt a muscle in his arm jump. "Seems I am."

"Want to talk about it?"

He shrugged as if he didn't know what to say or where to start. "I think you know."

Johann nodded. Several minutes passed in companionable silence. "Do you love her?"

The familiar acute cramp seized his heart. He'd never wanted it to  happen. But this feeling was nothing like the helplessness and failure  he'd known before. Loving Rain Shadow filled him with hope and an  optimism he'd never thought to experience. "Yes."

"What are you going to do about it?"

Anton cut his gaze to the twisted coverlet on the floor. What was he  going to do about it? Spend the rest of his life feeling like this? Ache  for her until die day he died? Court Helena McLaury and, heaven forbid,  maybe even marry her because he didn't love her and she couldn't hurt  him? Now that was a warped thought.

A dutiful, demure, prim little wife sounded pretty good in theory. But  what did sewing and putting up strawberry jam have to do with being a  good mother to Nikolaus? Rain Shadow ranked right up there with Lydia  and Annette for mothering. Besides, Nikolaus loved her.

Besides...he loved her.

It felt good to admit that.

Sure, he'd have a time ever getting her to see anything his way, and it  would take one hell of a man to handle a woman like that, but what did  any of those wifely qualities matter if the wife wasn't Rain Shadow?  After all, she was already his wife.

Anton shot his glance to his father. "I'll go get her." From the  nightstand, he picked up the letter he'd received the week before and  glanced at the Boston postmark. Abruptly, he yanked open the small  drawer and grasped the passenger list he'd taken from Ruiz' belongings.  "But there's something I have to do first."





Chapter Seventeen




The train ride raked up memories Anton had buried years ago. Memories of  meeting a young, fresh-faced Emily in Pittsburgh for the first time.  Memories of marrying her and sharing a sleeper car on their wedding  night. Halfheartedly, he watched the countryside chug past the windows.  He would never be able to erase Emily. Fragments of the hurt and  disillusionment would always remain. But be didn't have to let her haunt  him. He didn't have to allow the experience to taint the rest of his  life.

That's exactly what he'd done. He'd hardened his heart and hurt others in the process. It wasn't too late. It couldn't be.                       
       
           



       

Since two days ago when Anton had told him of the trip, Nikolaus had  been fairly bursting with excitement over seeing Slade and Rain Shadow  again. He slept most of the way, his head cradled in his father's lap.

The station in Philadelphia bustled with activity. Securing their  belongings and hailing a ride monopolized Anton's thoughts until they  reached a hotel and he dropped his leather satchel and saddlebags on the  bed. He glanced around the room, stared out the window at the street  below and took Nikolaus downstairs to ask directions.

They had a day to wait until the show opened. Anton hired a horse and  Nikolaus, tucked before him, rode to the fairgrounds. A sentry met them  as they neared the park. "Show's not till tomorrow, mister."

"Came a day early. Thought I'd take a look around." The cowboy tipped  his hat back on his head and squinted at Anton. "Don't I know you?"

Anton offered his hand, experiencing a flash of recognition. "Name's Neubauer."

The cowboy grinned and pumped his hand. "Sure! You helped me bury my  Belle up in Butler County. Best cutting horse I ever had." He released  Anton's hand and gestured over his shoulder. "Look around all you care  to, Neubauer."