Jake (Downton Cowboys #2) - Miley Maine Page 0,61

he not consider Belle’s position in all of this? She doesn’t deserve it, any of it.

Was his hatred and desire to ruin me so strong that he overlooked his daughter’s feelings?

God. I could just kill him right now.

Belle charges away, running like the wind in her beautiful chiffon dress. Looking like an angel escaping hell.

My hell.

And my heart shatters into a million pieces, the sound of its smashing drowned out by the loud moans and groans of our critical guests. All eyes follow my broken bride as she disappears into the fields. Mine included.

Unable to budge, I turn my eyes to Mr. Frances who was sitting there, hanging his head like a defeated director of a miserably failed play.

A few seconds later, anger gets the best of me. Seeing red, I rush toward where he sits, feeling the blood gush into my head, throbbing.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” I berate him. “Was that really necessary? Right… fucking… now?” I wag an accusatory finger in his face.

Mrs. Frances gets up, and I can hear her sobs as she walks away from us.

“It is my moral obligation,” he defiantly hisses at me, eyes narrowing, disgust evident on his face. “Something you might wanna explore one of these days.”

“Me?” I raise my eyebrows.

“Unlike you, I still have to look after my daughters. Both of them, you bas—”

“Your daughter,” I interrupt him, not caring that all eyes are now fixated on the little scene I am causing, “cheated on me… with my ranch manager. Where were your moral duties when she turned out that way, Dad?”

From the expression on his face, I can tell that he had no idea. He clearly didn’t know anything about Lola or her life, except for the fact that she married me at some point.

Mrs. Frances’ wails grow louder in the near distance as she listens to us in disbelief. I glance up and see her being comforted by one of Belle’s cousins. As our eyes meet, she bitterly shakes her head and turns away, hurrying out of the church.

Belle’s cousins and aunts run scrambling after her, saying words I cannot make out, no doubt trying to ease the pangs of shame that are washing over her.

In spite of her generally crass demeanor around me, I do pity the woman. She was certain that her only daughter had found her happy-ever-after with me. She was genuinely happy for her, and her blunt honesty showed it.

But now… now this happens and destroys everything. The wedding. The marriage. Belle’s heart.

And my very soul.

Damn you, Peter Frances, and your infinite selfishness.

Suddenly, he stands up, his hand slightly shoving me to the side as he makes his way through the aisle and out of the church.

“Hey!” I holler, feeling my brothers’ hands on my arms and back.

I take a couple of steps to follow him, but the grips around me tighten, holding me in place.

“No, let ‘em go.” Frankie’s voice comes from somewhere behind me.

I turn around and they are all there, the disappointment on their faces being fought off by a collective persistent determination to keep me from walking out.

“I—I have to go over there,” I say mindlessly, facing great difficulty in fixing my eyes on one person. “I have to apologize to Belle. I have to comfort her. She needs me right now!”

I pull my arm from Danny’s grip, but Frankie quickly tugs on my wrist.

“Not right now.” He shakes his head with urgency and a pleading look in his eyes. “Believe me.”

“What?” I tilt my head and furrow my eyebrows, before looking at the rest of them.

“He’s right, Jake.” Danny slowly shakes his head.

“She needs time right now,” Frankie declares, his hand gently patting my arm.

In disbelief, I widen my eyes and examine their faces. They all seem to agree with Frankie, and I feel like I am about to lose my mind. How could they possibly be asking me to leave my Belle in a time like this? She is slipping through my fingers as we speak.

I look around, and the church helpers are showing the guests out. Father Douglas catches my eyes, giving me an apologetic look and a subtle, regretful nod and a shrug.

Should I just go home?

How?

How will I fix my ass in the car when I can barely control myself right now? A combination of anger, bitterness, shame, helplessness, pain, and emotions I cannot even begin to name is seething within me. And they are asking me to just… go… home?

Resigned to