Blackwell Bounty

Chapter Twenty-One

Wyatt gestured toward the now empty room. Edith stepped back inside, giving her father space to follow her. She still struggled to compose her emotions and thoughts after the recent tornado of events, but since this would be the first time she had really spoken with her father since leaving Blackwell with Cal it wasn't very difficult to direct her mind toward her Pa. Wyatt quietly closed the door behind him and faced his daughter with a heavy sigh.

He met her eyes reluctantly. Anticipation sent her heart into a gallop. What was he about to say? Would he scold her for running off? Order her never to speak to Cal again? Hug her and never let go? Normally Edith found it easy to judge her father's expressions—she'd had a very long time to learn them after all—but she struggled to read him now.

There was relief in Wyatt's expression, but among it Edith found something that warned of other unapproachable emotions. Her father was always composed. However, right now he looked as if he wanted to let go of that composure to free himself of its weight. 

She could understand the feeling.

The silence dragged on for an uncomfortable amount of time. Neither of them knew what to say, so Edith stated the obvious thought that plagued them both. "I have to explain."

Wyatt folded his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes on his youngest daughter, who, until just a few short weeks ago, he'd worried about the least. "You certainly do. I thought you'd been kidnapped, Edith. An' out there just now—? You shouldn't have been caught up in that mess."

Kidnapped? He thought Cal had kidnapped her? Along with her shock, she felt frustration rise in her chest. Everyone, even her normally patient father, assumed the worst of Cal. Why was she the only one who noticed the good in him? Was it overshadowed by the darkness of his past? Or was it common assumption that led them all to believe he was a demon intruding on supposed saints?

Forcing her emotions to settle, Edith replied, "I'm sorry, Papa. I was trying to keep everyone—even myself—safe by going with him, but I—"

"There's no place safe around him."

"But Papa, you don't understand—"

"I think I do." His words lacked bite, but his tone had turned flat. Typical Harris stubbornness had settled with the intention to stay. He was upset with her for the company she kept. Edith could understand his reasoning, but she questioned his trust in her. She'd never been a rebellious daughter. Perhaps she was not ideal, but she'd behaved as she had been raised to behave. It was her father, after all, who'd nurtured her adventurous spirit.

Edith stubbornly raised her chin, determined to hold her ground even if he disapproved of what she was about to say. Wrapping her hands into fists so he wouldn't see them shaking, she stated with a blatant show of false brazenness, "I love him."

Wyatt breathed a heavy sigh. His shoulders fell as if the weight of the world rested upon them. He'd suspected this before; she could see it in his resistance. "Edith-"

"I know you don't believe me. I didn't expect you to. But your disapproval won't change what I feel in my heart. I love Cal."

"A fish can't fly, and a bird can't swim, Edith. You can't change who he is," Wyatt snapped.

Edith shook her head. "I don't want to change who he is. I don't have to. I didn't fall in love with the thought of who he could be with me. I fell in love with who he is when I'm with him now."

"And you think an outlaw will make fer a good husband? Is that what you want fer your future? A theivin' man who travels all over creation an' hardly ever comes home? An' don't tell me you plan on goin' with 'im. That ain't the life you lead. You never will. Blackwell is in your veins, Blue; it ain't goin' dry."