Page 59 of More than Words Can Say

Zach stiffened, and the edges of his mouth turned down. “There was no other choice. Playing what if is pointless.”

“There’s always another choice.” Open his heart, Lord. Let him hear me. “When Rosalind agreed to let that photographer exploit her, she did it because she thought she had no other choice. It was the only option she could see to earn the money she needed to buy medicine for our father. But just because it was the only option she could see doesn’t mean it was the only option available.”

Zach said nothing, just stared at her hard enough that she wanted to squirm. She could practically hear the justifications in his head, claiming that Rosalind’s situation was different. Yet it wasn’t. Not really. Not at the core.

“Rosalind believed it was her responsibility to care for our father, just as you believed it was your responsibility to care for your siblings.”

“They were my responsibility.” Zach yanked his hand away from her, and the harsh movement felt as if he were tearing himself from her heart.

Nevertheless, Abigail held her course, an inner voice warning that if she gave up now, she might not get a second chance. “Yes, they were your responsibility, but not yours alone.”

“What are you talking about? I was all they had.” Tension radiated off him. He grabbed at the grass with a fist.

“No.” Abigail kept her voice soft. Gentle. He didn’t need accusation. He needed truth spoken in love. And, oh, how she loved him. “No, Zach. You weren’t all they had. They had God.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked.

“God always provides other options for his people when they are tempted to take an unrighteous path. But if we depend only on ourselves to solve our problems, we narrow our vision and see none of those options. Rosalind could have come to me, she could have taken her worries to the church, or she could have left the outcome solely in God’s hands, even if that meant losing our father sooner than we wished. She did none of those things, however, because she never saw them as options. She was convinced that the burden was hers to bear alone. She was wrong. And so were you.”

Zach clamped his jaw so tight that his teeth hurt. What did she know? She hadn’t been there. She didn’t know what it had been like.

“Did you ever ask for help?” Why did she have to keep prodding at him? Digging into his sore spots? Why couldn’t she just leave it alone? “Approach the minister of the local church to see if someone would take Seth in for a short time until his health improved?”

“And risk some do-gooder breaking up our family?” Zach slashed his hand through the air. “Not a chance!”

“So you let fear about what might happen dictate your actions.”

“What do you know about it?” he shouted.

Shame rammed him in the gut. He had actually shouted. At his wife. The woman he’d sworn to honor and protect. The woman whose opinion mattered to him more than any other.

“Abby. I’m sorry. I . . .” What could he say? He had no excuse. None. He’d lost control.

But instead of shrinking back from him, she smiled. What kind of woman smiled when her bear of a husband roared at her like a wild man? She should be running for the horse and leaving him to rot, not scooting closer and placing her hands on his shoulders.

“I know quite a lot about it.” Her fingers felt small and delicate against his shoulders as she squeezed, yet he recognized her strength. “I’ve chosen fear over faith more times than I can count,” she admitted. “And every time I did, I ended up with regrets. When I chose faith, I didn’t always get the outcome I wanted—my mother still died, as did my father—but I never regretted my choice, because I felt God beside me, holding my hand and lending me strength.

“You’re a good man, Zacharias Hamilton. I admire your dedication to your family, your willingness to sacrifice anything to protect and provide for them. For us. But I love you too much to sit back and watch this old wound fester and destroy your soul.”

Zach’s head snapped up, and his gaze zeroed in on her like a sharpshooter eyeing his target. Had she just said she loved him?

Her cheeks reddened beneath his scrutiny, and her lashes lowered, hiding her eyes from him, but he didn’t look away. Couldn’t. Not with her words surging through his brain like a flash flood banging ten-foot tree limbs against his skull.

I love you too much . . .

Did she mean it? Every instinct honed at the poker tables told him it hadn’t been a bluff. Information she hadn’t intended to expose—yes. But not untrue.

His pulse ratcheted up to a full gallop, and light-headedness assailed him. “Abby, I . . .” His throat tightened around the words, refusing to let them out.

They were words he’d never said. Not since the day his mama died. Love made a man vulnerable in a world that required armor and a shield to survive. His father’s world demanded he hide all emotion to prevent his weaknesses from being exploited. The harshness of his grandfather’s world had beaten all softer places from him until only calluses remained. Evie and Seth had reminded him he still owned a heart and taught him how to use it, but not even they had managed to bring forth that three-word utterance from him. Some lessons were just too ingrained. Evie had taken to saying it for him in that teasing way she had, and he’d never denied the charge. But that was as close as he’d come.

His silence condemned him, and razors scraped his shoulders as she pulled her fingers away and sat back on her heels. He followed, unable to stop himself from leaning forward, from preserving whatever closeness he might scavenge.

Her eyes remained downcast, however, refusing to look at him, stealing the sunshine and leaving him cold.

“Just . . .” She pushed to her feet and brushed at her skirt. “Just promise me you’ll think about what I said.”

As if he’d be able to think about anything else.