Chapter 6: Reclaiming Myself

The day after Ethan returned, he sent the manager to ask if Sam’s wedding dress was ready. The manager came back, "Miss Brooks is busy and not seeing guests."

Two days later, he sent someone again. "Miss Brooks is busy and not seeing guests."

On the fifth day, the answer was still the same.

Ethan figured Rachel was just sulking. His pride kept him from seeing the truth.

The manager quietly suggested maybe Ethan should comfort her a little, and she’d get over it.

Out back on the practice field, Ethan drew his bow, arrows thudding into the target. "Women in the house—aren’t these just their little games? Let her be."

He turned, putting his arm around the woman in white beside him. "Sam, didn’t you want to see the new silk from Savannah? Come on, let your man show you."

Ethan let Rachel cool off while he and Sam went everywhere—parties, concerts, boating on Willow Lake, pinning flowers. The whole town knew Ethan Caldwell was about to take a second wife. Their names were in the local paper, and the church ladies whispered about it at potlucks.

At the bar with his military buddies, the talk was rowdy. "You gonna need a scorecard to keep track of your wives, Ethan!"

Laughter exploded, rough and rowdy, echoing down Main Street.

Someone asked, "Aren’t you worried Miss Brooks will be mad?"

"Mad?" Ethan tapped the table, then drained his whiskey. He remembered Rachel waiting on the porch, her hopeful eyes, her handkerchiefs stitched with his initials.

He laughed, bravado masking something else. "Rachel’s whole family is gone—just distant cousins far away. She’s all alone. Who else would want her? How could she even dare to be angry?"

"Aren’t you afraid the mayor will be upset?"

Ethan shrugged. "The mayor just took her in to keep the press quiet and the military happy."

He took another shot. Yeah, Rachel is just a lonely girl, all by herself. Besides, what man doesn’t have a few wives or girlfriends? She needs to deal with it. After all, she’s got nobody but me.

After the wedding, maybe he’d visit her more, give her a child. Rachel was the easiest to please.

The crowd cheered. "Ethan Caldwell is a real man!"

The party raged on, laughter spilling out into the night, bravado ringing hollow to anyone who listened close.

That night, Ethan drank hard. He woke with a splitting headache, finally realizing he’d left Rachel alone for ten days. It was time.

After showering, he called the manager. "Come with me to the Brooks house."

I’d gone back to the Brooks house, busy with cleaning and moving, not a moment to rest. Crabapple trees filled every corner of the yard. I dug my hands into the dirt, planting the crabapple trees myself this time. No one else’s hands but mine.

After ten days of turning away visitors, the gates of the Brooks house were knocked on—Ethan Caldwell had come.

The staff, following my orders, wouldn’t let him in. I went out to meet him, back straight, voice even. I wasn’t the same girl he’d left behind.

Ethan’s face was dark with anger. "Ten days—isn’t that enough sulking? Do I always have to give in, comfort you, just to make you happy? Why haven’t Sam’s wedding dress and gifts been taken care of?"

Dusting off my skirt, I replied, "If you want to marry a wife, Ethan, why should I be the one to handle it?" For the first time, I wasn’t scared of losing him. I was scared of losing myself.