“Sometimes you have to.” She tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn’t let her go.
“I didn’t tell you about Nora because I thought she was out of my life. It’s that simple. You read the letter. I thought the divorce was final, because I thought all the papers were signed. I thought that I had given her enough that even she was satisfied.”
“What else did you give her? All of your love?”
“Nora didn’t want love. She wanted money, so I gave her every penny I had. And when I’d sold everything, including my clothes, in order to get rid of her and get my children, she still wanted more.”
“She wanted you,” Carrie said.
Josh smiled at her. “You are the only woman who wants me. You want me in spite of my bad temper, in spite of my hopelessness at farming. You want me and my children and whatever else I have, not what I can give you—except maybe enough love to fill the earth.”
“Shut up,” she said softly, because she’d started crying again.
“Carrie, I’m sorry about everything that’s happened. I’m sorry for misjudging you and thinking you were an idiot.” He smiled at her look of protest. “Can you blame me? You’re much too pretty for any man to think you have a brain. And it’s been my experience that pretty girls think only of themselves.”
>
“Is your wife pretty?”
“My ex-wife. No, Nora’s not exactly pretty.” He untied the ribbon of her bonnet under her chin and retied it so the bow was nice. “I don’t love Nora. I’m not sure I ever did.”
“But she’s the mother of your children.”
“I didn’t hate her.”
At that Carrie started to get up, but he pulled her back to the seat. “What matters is now. I love you and I want you to marry me and I want you to stay with me and the kids. Forever. That’s what you’ve wanted since you first saw us, isn’t it?”
Carrie’s eyes were betraying her again. “I don’t think I like you. You lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie. I thought the divorce was final. The letter yesterday was as much a shock to me as it was to you.”
When she didn’t say anything, he pulled her into his arms, but it took her a moment to relax against him. “My brother…”
He stroked her hair. “Leave your brother to me.”
“You don’t know him. He’ll be very upset when he hears that I’m married to a married man.”
“Not to mention that you’re going to have his baby,” Josh said softly.
Carrie didn’t breathe for a moment. She didn’t need to ask how he’d found out, since she’d fainted three times in the last week and she had an idea that half of the town was talking about why she’d fainted. “Do you want me for the baby?”
“Oh, yes, of course. The baby is the only reason I want you. Didn’t you realize that I’m collecting kids? I do so well with them. In my company, all children laugh their lives away. It couldn’t possibly be that I want you because the mere thought of going on living without you makes me miserable. Carrie,” he whispered, “please don’t leave me.”
She hugged him back then, and he kissed her, kissed her softly and with yearning.
“When your brother gets here, whenever the stage arrives, today or tomorrow or whenever—” He put his fingertip over her lips to keep her from speaking. “You leave everything to me. I’ll make him think we’re the happiest couple in the world and that nothing has ever been wrong between us. Who knows, maybe the stage won’t arrive for three days yet. By that time Nora will have come and gone, we’ll have been married, and everything will be fine—except for my corn crop.”
“My brother won’t care about your wormy old corn if I’m happy and—” She looked at the watch pinned to her bosom. “The stage is due in ten minutes. It will be here in ten minutes, and my brother will be on it.”
Josh gave her a patronizing smile. “All right then, if he is, I’ll deal with him. If he wants us to remarry, then we’ll stall him until Nora gives me the paper and my divorce is final. Twenty-four hours at the most.” He put his hand under her chin so she looked up at him. “Can you forgive me? About Nora? I didn’t want to tell you that I’d failed at my first marriage. You can’t blame me for that, can you? I figure the corn made me look enough like a failure.”
“You’re not a failure.”
He kissed her. “You don’t know what that means to me. For the first time since I got saddled with that damned farm, when I look in your eyes, I don’t feel like a failure.”
“I knew you needed me.”
“I was too stupid to know it,” he said and bent to kiss her again, but Carrie’s head came up as she listened.