Page 29 of A Forgotten Heart (Wind River Mail-Order Brides #5)

T he next morning, Nick tried not to think about anything at all. He shoved his arms through his coat, getting ready to go check the cattle. On Christmas morning. The job his family needed him to do.

He’d slept for only a few restless hours after he’d arrived late at night, the cabin cold and empty.

Now, the sun brimmed over the horizon, its light spilling through the winter cabin’s window. The single room with only a stove, a bed, and a chair, was bathed in the red glow of dawn.

The morning chill bit his skin, and he shivered. He banked the fire in the little stove so it’d be ready for him after a long day in the saddle.

Patch had been glued to Nick’s side since last night, watching his every move. Nick patted his head. “Ready to go count head?”

As he straightened, paper in Nick’s pocket crinkled.

He pulled out the folded stack of land papers.

He should probably do something with the deed before going out. He couldn’t risk damaging it. But as he pulled it out of his pocket, he stilled. Beneath the land papers was another paper.

He unfolded his application for teaching school. What-might-have-beens tore at his throat.

It was time to let go. Time to press forward and stop chasing rainbows. Pa had been right all those years ago.

Clenching his molars so tight they hurt, he swung open the iron stove’s door. The application in his fingers trembled, then he flung it in the fire.

Before emotions got the better of him, he turned toward his bed to safely store the land papers in his knapsack.

But as he reached beneath his bed, his hand brushed against a wooden crate.

What was this?

With a furrowed brow, he slid out a crate, but it didn’t contain his personal items. Instead, it contained piles and piles of books.

How had these gotten here?

He blinked hard, his head starting to pound. They were the books from when he and Ed had stayed up here several years ago. After his father had passed and they’d gained permission to run cattle on this land. Back when he’d still had dreams.

He hesitated before picking up one of the books.

McGuffey’s Fourth Eclectic Reader . He ran his hand over the spine. He’d been the only one in his class to be in the fourth reader. Most of his classmates had only made it to the second.

He opened to the title page, its script familiar.

He’d been so proud back then. What good had it amounted to?

He flipped a page. Then another.

Look how his studying had wounded his family. If not for him, his father would be with them now, wouldn’t have lived his last couple of years with a bum leg that hadn’t healed right.

He flipped through the book faster, his blood strumming through his ears. If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in himself, in his dreams, his ambition…

He gripped the corner of the page and ripped it out. He crumpled the paper into a ball in his hand.

He was tired of being the failure.

He balled the page tighter, swiveling toward the stove. He opened the iron door and tossed the page in.

It shriveled, the flames charring it from the outside in.

He ripped out another section, crumpled it and tossed it into the flames.

Then another, then another, momentum propelling him faster. His breath came in gasps, but he kept going.

The front door banged open, and a gust of cold air rushed in.

His brothers traipsed into the small room, bringing snow in on their boots and coats.

Isaac scowled, coming to stand over where Nick squatted in front of the stove. “What are you doing?”

Ed lay down on the bed, boots hanging off the end.

Nick’s stare flicked from brother to brother. “Wintering the cattle. What are you doing up here?”

Leaning against the closed door, Drew folded his arms. “We came to talk.”

If a lecture was on his brother’s mind, Drew had wasted a trip.

“Nothing to talk about,” Nick mumbled.

Pity creased Ed’s expression, and Nick averted his eyes. He ducked his head and stripped away another section of the book, tossing it into the stove.

“Stop that,” Drew growled.

Nick ignored him. “Why? I don’t need the books. I’m a rancher. Go back to your families. Have a happy Christmas morning.”

“Happy?” Drew asked. “You think we’re happy seeing you like this?”

Ed blew out a long breath. “What about school, Nick?”

Another punch of pain. Nick threw another bundle of pages into the fire. “What about it?”

“Tillie said you wanted to go back. Something about an application.”

Nick chucked the book binding into the fire. Sparks scattered up the flue. “That was a stupid idea. I’m not going back.”

Long silence. He didn’t have to look up to know his brothers were exchanging looks.

“I told them about Elsie.” Isaac spoke for the first time.

Furious now, Nick’s eyes swung to meet Isaac’s gaze. He stood against the far wall, arms folded.

Nick picked up another book from the crate, not even reading the cover. “So what?”

“So you go after her.” Dummy . Ed’s insult was implied.

“It’s over,” Nick said. “Some fancy-pants city slicker came to marry her.”

Drew narrowed his eyes. “Were they standing in front of a preacher?”

“What?” Nick’s hand paused in the midst of gripping new pages to tear. “No. You don’t propose in front of a preacher. That’s what the wedding is for.”

Ed waved one hand from the bed. “It ain’t official until they’re in front of a preacher.”

Didn’t his brothers get it? Elsie had chosen someone else.

“I didn’t figure you for someone who gave up so easily,” Drew said.

Nick slammed the book cover closed and tossed it back on the crate. “Look, she chose some other guy and made a fool out of me. Just more proof that I’m the weak link—I’ll never live up to the rest of you.”

All three brothers went quiet. Ed sat up, staring at Nick now.

Isaac gave Nick a pointed look. “What are you talking about?”

Nick ran a hand down his face. He wanted this conversation over so he could do what needed to be done. And be left alone.

He turned his attention back to the stove. “That’s what Pa said. Don’t you remember?”

The brothers’ stares pricked Nick’s neck. All remained silent.

Nick’s stomach knotted. “That’s what Pa called me when I messed up. Weak link.” He blinked away the burning behind his nose. “It’s why Pa broke his leg and eventually died.”

Compassion lit Isaac’s expression as Drew and Ed glanced at each other.

Drew palmed the back of his neck. “Nick, you weren’t meant to carry that weight. What happened to Pa was an accident.”

“But if I hadn’t?—”

“You have to forgive yourself, Nick.” Drew’s eyes bored into Nick’s, a reflection of the past within their sheen. “We’ve all made bad decisions, and we’ve all paid for them.”

Nick worked his jaw back and forth. “I’m not like the three of you.”

Ed narrowed his gaze, fervor within its depths. “Doesn’t make you any less our brother.”

Ed’s words slammed into Nick’s chest. How had Ed pinpointed Nick’s fear? That somehow, because of his uniqueness, he didn’t belong in this family.

That God had made a mistake when Nick had been born.

Drew pointed a finger straight at Nick. “This family needs you to be who God created you to be. Not some hired hand.”

Isaac frowned. “If it hadn’t been for your quick thinking and setting fire to the bunkhouse last week, this family would’ve been devastated.”

Drew cleared his throat. “When I think of how I almost lost Kaitlyn, the kids, the baby?—”

Ed placed his palm on Nick’s shoulder. “Nick, you aren’t a weak link. You are a vital link in this family’s chain.”

“And we don’t want you to give up on your own dreams,” Drew said.

Isaac thumped Nick in the chest with the back of his hand. “Send in that application.”

Nick didn’t know what to think. “What about the ranch? Ed’s only here half time. Isaac’s going back to the Marshals.”

Drew looked to Ed and Isaac. “It’ll work out. The kids are getting older.”

Isaac smirked. “McGraws don’t give up.”

“Which brings us back to why you’ve given up on Elsie,” Ed said.

“You deserve love too, Nick,” Drew said.

“Did you even give her a chance to choose you?” Isaac said.

Nick hadn’t. He’d been hurt, humiliated, and had walked away before she could send him away.

“Maybe she wants someone to fight for her,” Ed added.

Drew stood straighter. “You’re a McGraw, Nick. We fight for what we want. Now, go and get your woman.”

Nick could picture the vulnerability and pleading on Elsie’s face. She’d claimed she hadn’t expected that proposal. But Nick knew her mother wanted her to marry Nelson. Her mother had been helping direct Elsie’s life for a long time.

He could so easily picture the little girl trying to win her adoptive parents’ love, never wanting confrontation.

She’d been rejected by her own father. Had Nick really done any different? Rejecting her before she had a chance to break his heart? To protect himself?

She deserved better than that.

Different words from his father rose up from the mist of his memory. Sometimes, son, you need to stop thinking and get the job done.

He’d done enough thinking. This time, Pa was right.

Elsie’s boot heels clicked on the boardwalk at a meandering pace. Merritt hooked her arm through Elsie’s, prompting her to walk faster. “You can’t leave things unresolved between you and Arnold. If you don’t hurry, we’ll miss the train entirely.”

It had been Arnold who had insisted she meet him at the train station before he departed. To give him her answer.

An answer she’d begun to question herself.

She’d lain awake all night, thinking from every angle.

The crimson sunset reflected off the remaining snow berms piled in the alleyways, while the air twinged with the stagnant mud on the streets.

Elsie scanned the storefronts of the town she’d come to love, decked out in swags of pine garland and bright bows.

Even on Christmas Day, the boardwalk bustled with townspeople visiting loved ones and delivering gifts, each breath puffing out of their mouths in little white clouds.

Calvin had become home, yet Elsie didn’t know how she could stay after all that had happened.