Page 39 of Wagon Train Song
She sat up. “You wouldn’t say that, let alone think it, if you knew what I’ve done. What I am.”
“I can’t imagine what you mean.” He gave a humorless half chuckle. “I’m certain you haven’t robbed a bank.”
The fabric of her dress was knotted between her thumb and forefinger. She was about to damage the goods, but she couldn’t release her grasp. “I’ve done worse.” The burning words whispered across her lips.
He showed no reaction.
Well, he would when she confessed. “I killed Norman.”
Gabe forgot to breathe.His hand stopped circling on Marnie’s back. Killed? That wasn’t possible. “You said he died a slow painful death.”
“So much pain. Laudanum gave him so little relief.” She shifted, forcing him to pull his hand back. She came round to face him, her eyes burning with intensity, her lips working in and out. “I can’t tell you how many times he begged me to give him more, but the doctor had been clear that any more than what he recommended would put him to sleep. Permanently.”
He reached out a hand, wanting to comfort her, but when she shook her head, he held back. Had she given him more? Was that the guilt she carried?
“What happened?”
“He drank more and died.”
He flinched at the sharpness of her words. “Did you give it to him?” Even if she had, he’d understand. It wasn’t as if Norman was going to get better and watching him suffer was an unimaginable agony.
“I might as well have.”
“What happened?”
She turned her back to him. “If I tell you, you’ll never look at me the same.”
He chuckled. “You mean with fondness?” And hope.
“You’ll despise me.”
“I doubt it.”
“He was always begging me for more.” Each word came out with painful slowness. “I knew he’d take it if I left it where he could get it, so I was always careful to put it out of his reach. He was too weak to get out of bed and find it.” She rocked, back and forth, back and forth. “Except I was in a hurry. I’d promised Bertie we could get a kitten. I couldn’t leave Norman long, so we rushed out the door.”
She stiffened and stared into the distance. “In my haste, I left the laudanum within his reach. When I came back, he was?—”
A shudder as violent as thunder shook her.
“Marnie, I’d call that an accident.”
“Was it?” she whispered. “Or did I do it accidentally on purpose?”
He wrapped his arms around her. At first, she resisted. Then she collapsed against his chest, and her hot tears soaked his shirt. He welcomed their warmth and held her as she cried, wishing he could somehow relieve her of her load of guilt.
She didn’t move. “I wanted him to be free of his suffering. Many times, I thought how easy it would be to give him the bottle.”
“Even if you had, wouldn’t the choice be his and not yours?”
Her face tipped up, and he looked into her eyes, glimpsing a flash of belief. “I never thought of it that way.”
“Marnie, you need to stop blaming yourself.”
Hope slackened her taut features before they tightened again. She shook her head.
He tried again. “Of course, you wish things could be different. That Norman hadn’t been made to suffer. But I don’t think he’d want you to blame yourself.” His voice lowered. “To suffer when you don’t need to.”
He wanted to say so much more, but he couldn’t push her. Couldn’t make her see that she had no need to blame herself. That the future lay before her.
