Page 42 of Unforgiven

“I disagree.”

“Bethanne, you know what I mean. His death was not your fault. Not even a little bit.”

“I disagree.” She leaned forward slightly. “Obviously, I’ve had a lot of time to think about what happened. I’m embarrassed about how stupid I was.”

He shook his head. “You weren’t stupid.”

“I left the party with Peter. No girl with good morals would have done that in the first place.”

“Bethanne, a lot of couples were going into the woods. You weren’t the first girl to want a few moments alone with her boyfriend.”

She scowled for a second. “He wasn’t my boyfriend. Not officially. We’d just been flirting.”

Seth wondered why she was thinking such things. Had her parents tried to shame her? Someone else? He would never consider himself a man who conveyed his thoughts and feelings easily, but he had to show her that she needed to stop feeling so guilty—or at least try to. “What I’m trying to say is that everyone knew that you were innocent. And though you were smart, you were also sixteen. Pretty much everyone went into the woods for some privacy from time to time. But just because you did, that didn’t make it right for Peter to force himself on you.”

“If I had stayed with everyone else, he would still be alive.”

“You don’t know that. The Lord is in charge of our lives.”

Looking impatient, she tugged at the side of her dress’s apron. “Okay, how about this? If I had stayed with everyone else, you would not have gone to prison.”

“Again, we don’t know what would have happened. But it doesn’t matter anyway. I did go, I’m out, and I’m fine. Stop worrying.”

“But you aren’t the same!” she blurted out, then clapped a hand over her mouth.

He stilled, finally understanding why she was so upset. “You’re right. I’m not. But that’s okay.”

She shook her head. “You’ve been kept at an arm’s distance because you went to prison, Seth. Even though I think Preacher Zachariah and Bishop Wood would welcome you if you asked to be baptized, the Millers don’t want to forgive you.”

That was true. “I know. They still blame me for Peter’s death, and a lot of people in the community don’t want to believe that it was an accident. But it was.”

Her dark brown eyes glistened. “I don’t know how to make your life better, Seth.”

“You don’t need to,” he said simply. “My life is fine.”

She opened her mouth, but he continued before she could speak. “Bethanne, look at me. Really look at me. What do you see?”

She stared at him for several seconds before averting her eyes. “I don’t know what you expect me to see.”

“I want you to see that I’m a grown man. That I have a good job. That I have a home. I want you to see that I didn’t fall apart.” He lowered his voice. “Do you see me? Do you see that I’ve gotten stronger? I’m okay, Bethanne.”

“But your faith—”

“Is solid,” he finished. “Yeah, I did have more than a couple of times when it wavered, but I still believe in God. I still talk to Him. My faith is stronger now too.”

Her eyes went wide. “You’re telling the truth?”

“I am.” Leaning back on his hands, he said, “God was with me when I was in prison, Bethanne. Just like He’s with us now. Even though we make mistakes and struggle and falter, He doesn’t give up on us. And that’s why I haven’t given up either. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Gut.”

“I guess we didn’t need this meeting after all, did we?”

“No, I think we did,” he said. “We never really talked. I avoided you because I didn’t want to make you upset.”

“And I avoided you because I avoid pretty much everyone . . . and I didn’t want to make you upset either.”

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