Page 42 of Willing to Wed the Rancher
Franz glanced around the cabin as though recognizing the same thing.
Even if life hadn’t been easy for Eric and Luisa, they’d always seemed happy. At least, whenever she’d seen them. But of course, she wouldn’t say that to Franz. “Eric mentioned he’d written to you but that he hadn’t heard back. Now I understand why.”
Franz hung his head. “Before leaving, Eric begged me to forgive him. But I told him I never would.”
“You were hurt and angry.”
“After six years of hanging on to the hurt and anger, I knew it was time to come here, talk to him, and let it go.”
“I admire you for having the courage to do so.”
His gaze lifted then to hers, and his handsome face with its lean and striking lines was etched with deep regret. “I was not courageous. I waited too long.”
“But you’re here—”
“After arriving in Colorado, I delayed in Denver one week. One week, Clarabelle.” His grip on her hand tightened. “If I had let go of my bitterness sooner and come earlier, even just one week earlier, I might have been here to save his life.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Now I have to live with the knowledge that my unforgiveness had a role in his death.”
His reasoning was unfair, but how could she convince him of that? “You didn’t have control of Eric’s life or death. Even if you’d been here, the murderer could have come and killed him when you were in town or while you were sleeping—or maybe even killed you too.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I know, logically, you are correct. But it still does not take away the fact that I sensed he was in some kind of trouble from his letter, and I wanted him to pay for what he had done to me.”
She didn’t want to offer him any trite platitudes. After the deaths of her pa and ma, she’d never liked when people tried to comfort her with reminders that her parents were in a better place or that she’d learn to adjust to life without them.
She’d simply needed someone to listen and understand that, even if her guilt was irrational and illogical, she still felt as if she could have done something to prevent her parents’ deaths, especially her ma’s.
“It’s good you came.” She spoke gently, hoping he would sense that she cared. “You might not be able to ask Eric directly for forgiveness, but you can still ask it of God and for yourself.”
“Perhaps you are right.”
“Hopefully by the time you leave, you’ll have made peace with all that happened in your past.”
“It will help if I can find justice for him.”
A scream pierced the air, coming from the loft.
Breaking the connection with her, Franz jumped to his feet, his gaze darting around, his hand fumbling under his shirt for his pistol.
She rose more slowly, weariness settling over. “We’re not in danger. It’s just Bianca. She’s having another nightmare.”
15
Franz brushed a hand across Bianca’s cheek.
She released a shuddering breath, but her eyes remained closed.
Was she asleep again?
Her little frame was curled up and motionless on her bed, which was built into the wall on two sides and low to the ground, allowing him to kneel beside her and comfort her.
When he’d first heard her screaming a short while ago, he’d assumed the intruder was back in the house and was up in the loft hurting her.
Thankfully, no one had been there. Nonetheless, Bianca had been frantic with fear that someone was prowling about the loft.
Franz had assured her many times that no one was there and that he’d protect her, but she hadn’t calmed down until he’d started telling her one of his stories. One story had turned into two, until finally her eyes had closed and she’d fallen asleep again.
