Page 48 of Redeeming the Outlaw
Whit’s fingers brushed her chin, tilting her face up to meet his intense stare. “You know that’s not what I want.”
Esther’s breath caught in her throat as Whit’s calloused fingers grazed her skin. His touch ignited a longing deep within her, one she had tried so hard to suppress.
“What do you want, Whit?” she whispered, her voicetrembling slightly.
His blue eyes blazed with an intensity that made her knees weak. “You know what I want, Esther? I want you. I’ve always wanted you, from the moment I first laid eyes on you.”
She shook her head, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “We can’t... It’s not right. What we did before, pretending to be married, was a sin. You need to repent. I’ve already repented and begged God’s forgiveness.”
Whit’s jaw clenched tightly as a wave of frustration and anger washed over his rugged features. His piercing blue eyes narrowed, the intensity in them searing into Esther’s very soul. She could see the muscles in his neck tense, like coiled springs ready to snap at any moment.
“Repent?” he scoffed; his deep voice laced with bitterness. “For what? Loving you with every fiber of my being? For wanting to be with you, to cherish and protect you always?”
He released her hand abruptly and stepped back, running his fingers through his damp hair in agitation. Esther’s heart ached at the hurt and confusion etched on his handsome face, the face she had traced with gentle fingertips in stolen moments of tenderness.
“Get your things. I’m taking you back to town.”
Esther’s eyes widened at Whit’s sudden declaration, her heart leaping into her throat. “What? Why do you want to take me back to town now?”
He spun around, his blue eyes flashing with a mixture of pain and determination. “Every moment you spend here with me, you’re tearing yourself apart inside. I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice. You’re haunted by the guilt of our love, tormented by the fear the Richards gang is going to come back. I’m going to make it so we can be together. Until those outlawsare dealt with, consider yourself a Hartman. Not a Billings, not a Moore, and for sure not a Richards.”
Esther stepped back. “What are you saying, Whit?”
“I know you are Ma Richards’s daughter. I know you were placed in the orphanage and the Billings took you in.”
“How did you...?”
“Brodie told me the first part. Annamae told me the second.”
“You’ve known all along, and you didn’t say a word to me?”
“Would it have mattered?”
“Whit, it was my family who hurt you.”
Whit clasped Esther’s arms. “No, Esther. It wasn’t your true family who did this to us. Your genuine family is the ones who love and support you every day. They can be the parents who raised you, siblings, or friends. You get to choose who your family is. I found my family in the Hartmans when I came here. They took me in and accepted me. They are the ones who chose me, and now I choose you as part of my family. You are my family now, Esther.”
“What if I’m like them?”
“You aren’t, sweetheart. You are everything that is good in the world. The Richards are evil and dark; you are lightness and love. God blessed me the day I walked into that camp and found you there.” He lifted her chin slightly. “I want to kiss you so badly right now.”
“I wish you would, Whit.”
“Not right now. We need to get to town and talk to your papa about marrying us.” He turned away from her, busying himself with buttoning up his shirt and reaching for his boots. Esther watched him in stunned silence, her mind reeling with a whirlwind of emotions.
Esther’s heart raced as the buckboard wagon came to a halt in front of the stark white church; its imposing steeple reaching toward the cloudy sky. Reverend Billings stepped out of the parsonage; his well-worn Bible clutched tightly in his hands.
Whit quickly tied off the reins and extended a hand to Esther, but she couldn’t bring herself to take it just yet. She knew once she stepped down from the wagon, there would be no turning back. She was dreading the difficult conversation which lay ahead with her papa.
“Esther,” Reverend Billings’ deep voice carried across the churchyard. “You’ve come home.” His sharp gaze flicked to Whit. “Thank you for bringing her home.”
“I am glad I could bring her home safely.” Whit assisted Esther from the wagon, his arm still around her as they walked the path leading to the side of the church.
“That remains to be seen.”
“Papa!” Esther cried. “Apologize to Whit.”
“Whit, is it? Have you learned anything while you were away? You are still using his familiar name?”
