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“Get your things, you’re coming with me.”
Val saw a coolness settle over Drake’s demeanor.
Her father snapped. “Now, Valinda.”
“Have you eaten?” she asked, hoping to deflate the situation.
“Don’t be flippant with me. Get your belongings or you’ll leave without them.”
Determined to remain respectful, she held on to her temper. “As I explained in my letter, I’m a teacher here. I’m not leaving them, or my husband.”
“You will do as I say.” He was a big man, accustomed to using his size to get his way, but he was a good four inches shorter than the still-seated Drake, and his build was nowhere near as powerful.
“I’m sorry, Father, but I won’t. I have a life here, now.”
“I don’t care about that. When we get home, I’ll look into getting this so-called marriage dissolved. I didn’t approve it, so it won’t stand.”
“It doesn’t need your approval. It’s all legal and aboveboard. I’m happy here. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
“You’ll be happier at home. Now, come.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t be returning with you.”
“You will not defy me, Valinda.”
“Father, I’m sorry.”
“You ungrateful girl. Do you think I enjoyed knowing you engaged yourself to that nasty little nancy boy, Cole?”
She gasped at the vulgar slurring.
He gave her a brittle smile. “Did you think I didn’t know about him and what he does? Everyone back home does. I’ve been shamed enough by you!”
She gritted out, “Go home, Father.”
He shouted, “You will do as I say!” He raised his arm to strike her only to be stopped mid-swing by a furious Drake, who grabbed him, slammed him hard into the wrought-iron wall of the gazebo, and pinned him there with a muscled forearm against his throat. “Have you lost your mind?” he snarled.
Her father cried out with surprise and pain, clawing ineffectively at the iron arm cutting off his wind.
Valinda looked up to see her mother, her sister, and a man whose face made the hairs rise on the back of her neck. It was Reverend Comer, the man from her dream, the man who’d been seated on the wagon bench beside her father. He eyed her malevolently. She turned away. “Mother? Caroline?” Caroline was dressed in black.
Still holding her father in place, Drake turned and scanned the shocked faces.
Having no idea what this all meant and deciding to let her father live at least long enough to get an explanation, she said, “Drake, darling. Let him go.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
He grudgingly complied.
Ignoring her father’s coughs and gasps as he fought to restore his breathing, she trained her attention on the others. “Let’s go into the parlor. This way, please.”
Inside, she shared a strong hug with her mother, and a teary one with her beloved sister. Val wondered if the black attire meant her husband had passed away, but kept her questions for later, and took her seat. Her angry Drake stood possessively by her chair. “Mother, Caroline, my husband, Drake LeVeq.”
They nodded his way.
He nodded in response.
