by Joyce Alec
No sheriff. That’s mighty interesting.
Joe’s words came back to life in her mind, screaming their way into importance. Annie caught her breath as she rode back towards town, wondering if Joe had taken ahold of this news in the knowledge that he could do pretty much whatever he liked and then ride off into the sunset without the sheriff chasing after him. Around here, the town council dealt with anything like that – not that there was much of it.
“Annie! Hold up there!”
Annie pulled her horse to a sudden stop, seeing Mrs. Brinkley waving at her from the mercantile.
“Mrs. Brinkley,” she replied, trying to smile despite the anxiety churning through her. “What can I do for you?”
“You forgot your flour yesterday,” Mrs. Brinkley replied, going back toward the shop. “I’ll just fetch it for you.”
Annie, who hadn’t even realized she’d left one of her goods behind, reined in her horse and sat quietly for a moment. Only to see a tall, slightly stooped figure walking towards her from the blacksmith’s shop a little further down the road.
Her heart slammed painfully into her ribs. She didn’t have to ask who it was. She knew immediately.
“Here you are,” Mrs. Brinkley said cheerfully. “Now, I’ve added you a little extra sugar there, too. Not much, but we had a new batch come in and I wanted to make sure the last few grains of the old were used up. I hope you’ll accept it.”
Hardly able to take her eyes from Simon’s form, Annie threw a glance towards Mrs. Brinkley and saw the concern in her eyes. It was as if she was afraid that Annie was about to reject this small gift.
“Thank you, Mrs. Brinkley,” Annie managed to say, wondering if she could bring this conversation to an end. “I sure am grateful.” She picked up the reins with one hand after fastening the bag of goods to the pommel of the saddle. “I’d best be going.”
To her horror, Mrs. Brinkley grasped her free hand, stopping her from riding away. “Annie, I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Her panic was rising now, as she kept flicking her gaze between Mrs. Brinkley and the ever-closer Simon. She had no idea what Mrs. Brinkley was talking about, but she didn’t want to wait another moment to find out.
“I-I…you don’t need to apologize,” she stammered quickly, trying to gently pull her hand away. “There’s no problem, really. I just forgot my flour.”
Mrs. Brinkley shook her head, her grip tightening just a little. “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, I’m sorry none of us have been able to help you with…” She turned her head and caught sight of Simon approaching, her grip now growing painful. “With him,” she whispered, as Simon drew near them both.
“Good morning, Mrs. Brinkley,” Simon grated, his green eyes slightly narrowed. His dark hair was sticking up all over the place, as though he’d raked his hands through it over and over again. “Good morning, Mrs. Hartford.”
Annie tried to quell her shaking and nodded to him, turning her face away so that she wouldn’t have to look into his face.
“I’ve been hard at work this morning and thought I’d take a short walk before I head on back,” Simon continued, as though this was just a normal conversation. “Was up half the night too, so I’m done in.”
Annie’s stomach flooded with anxiety.
“You ought to get yourself to bed earlier then, Mr. Hartford,” she said, as calmly as she could. “I find a good night’s sleep often helps things.”
His eyes fastened themselves to her face, but Annie refused to look at him. Mrs. Brinkley was still holding on to her hand tightly, as though she was proving her camaraderie simply by staying where she was.
“I always seem to get a good deal more done late at night, Mrs. Hartford,” Simon replied, his words filled with meaning. “People sure seem to be a good deal more amicable, I reckon.”
“Unless they have a gun and make their feelings more than clear on the subject,” Annie stated firmly, feeling a sense of courage filling her as she spoke. “I’d worry that something would happen to you if you carry on the way you are, Mr. Hartford.” Finally, she forced herself to look back into his face, trying her best to remain as calm as possible. He already knew that she was afraid of him. He already knew that she was struggling to keep her wits about her whenever he came calling, but at least now she had Joe with her. At least now, she’d seen him chased away by a gunshot. Perhaps it was this that gave her the strength to look him directly in the eye, to make it plain that she wasn’t going to let this carry on any longer. She was going to defend herself—whatever it took.
Simon glared at her, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen them before. Stepping closer, he made to reach for her, but seemed to think better of it at the last minute. His eyes flickered towards Mrs. Brinkley.
“You’ll find that I’m a very determined man, Mrs. Hartford,” he breathed, his jaw set. “I usually get what I want one way or the other.”
The threat made its way into her soul, sending a frisson of fear down her spine. However, with an effort, she forced herself not to shrink back from him. Her fingers were now tightening on Mrs. Brinkley’s hand.
“And you will find, Simon, that I am not afraid of you any longer,” she replied, speaking plainly. “I will defend myself and my home in whatever way I think best. Last night was a warning. Do you understand?”
There was nothing but anger between them for a moment. The air grew thick, sweat trickling down Annie’s back as she waited for him to reply. His expression was almost murderous. His hands curled into fists as he stood, rigid with anger. And then, without another word, he turned around and stormed back toward his shop, his feet stamping down hard onto the dusty street.
“Goodness,” Mrs. Brinkley breathed, finally letting go of Annie’s hand. “I ain’t never seen him as angry as that before, Annie. What if he—?”
Annie shook her head. “I don’t know, Mrs. Brinkley.”
Mrs. Brinkley looked up at her. “Judith, please,” she said quietly. “Oh, Annie, I am sorry for being so closed these last few months. I’ve been so afraid of Mr. Hartford that I….” She shook her head, her shoulders slumping. “I want to be friends, Annie. If you’ll accept my apology, that is.”
Annie, feeling a swell of relief that she’d not only managed to stand up for herself in front of Simon, but had also managed to turn him away from her without another word, let herself smile.
“Thank you, Mrs. Brinkley. I mean, Judith. I’d like that.”
Mrs. Brinkley smiled, a look of relief in her eyes. “Then, can I come calling on you one day?”
Her mind flashed back to Joe. “You’ve got your baby,” Annie protested with a quick smile. “Why don’t I come calling on you one day?”
Mrs. Brinkley nodded, looking more and more delighted. “Friday?”
“Friday it is,” Annie replied, suddenly feeling as though her future were brighter than ever before. Her sadness, her fear, and her loneliness all broke away, as Mrs. Brinkley gave her a time and said just how much she was looking forward to seeing her. Annie, happier than she’d been in a long time, rode away and began to head back towards the edge of town. Riding past the blacksmith’s shop, she forced her gaze towards it, keeping her head high so as to prove to Simon that she wasn’t going to be afraid of him any longer.
He half-turned as she passed, his head twisting over his shoulder. For a moment, their eyes met. Fear tried to rake its way across her heart, but Annie pushed it away. Courage filled her, as Simon turned his head away again, no longer holding her gaze. Perhaps this was going to work out after all. Perhaps this one incident with the gun had been enough to dissuade Simon from coming back after her again.
She’d just have to wait and see.
6
“Well, I’ll be!”
Annie jerked her head around to see Joe standing in the doorway with a note in his hand. The note she’d taken from Laura that very morning.
“I sure hope you’re happy,” Annie murmured, turning around to carry on fixing di
nner. “I know Robert’s a good man, and with that ranch soon to be his outright, she’ll have a good future.”
It had been five days since Annie had taken Laura to town, and—in that time—she’d found herself growing more and more comfortable with Joe around. He’d not done anything remotely concerning and had always been polite and good-natured. She’d found the time she spent talking with him to be very enjoyable indeed. In fact, she found herself looking forward to the evenings now, instead of worrying about what might happen with Simon.
The last four evenings, she and Joe had sat in the kitchen beside the stove and simply talked. Well, she’d talked mostly, and Joe had listened and asked questions. She’d told him about her past, about her father and their small home out in the wilderness. She’d told him about coming here, about marrying Paul and how well they’d gotten along. When she’d talked about his passing, she’d found herself sad all over again, although she’d had to explain that there had been nothing more than friendship between the two of them. Talking about Simon had lifted a weight from her shoulders, finally finding someone to listen to what she’d had to endure. Joe had been nothing but understanding, although he’d grown angry with just how much of a hold Simon had on the town. He was upset that no one here was able to help her, promising to make sure she was safe from him before he left.
She’d talked and talked, pouring out her soul, and Joe had listened to everything she’d said and acknowledged it with an understanding smile. He’d talked a little about his father and Laura, but he hadn’t given much about himself away. Annie got the impression that he was quite a reserved man and that he kept most of his thoughts to himself, and certainly wasn’t used to sharing them with someone else. Not that she minded. Sooner or later, he’d be on his way, and most likely, she wouldn’t ever see him again. She wasn’t about to make any kind of demand for him to open up to her.
“I sure am happy,” Joe said slowly, dragging her from her reflections. “I didn’t think my sister would be able to get herself hitched in such a short time, but I guess I was wrong.”
“And there’s no sign of this ‘Boyd Bretton’, is there?” Annie asked, arching one brow at him. “I thought he was meant to be searching for you both.”
Joe shrugged, sitting down carefully at the table with only a small wince. “I don’t know, Annie. I’m guessing he’s been called back to town for whatever reason. Not that it matters now. If he comes for Laura, he’ll find her hitched and completely out of his reach.” A satisfied smile crossed his face as he looked at her. “I sure am glad we found you, Annie.”
To her surprise, Annie found that a spike of heat rushed up her spine and sent a flood of color into her cheeks. The more his face recovered itself, the more she was beginning to realize that Joe was quite handsome—in a rugged sort of way. His light brown hair was a little wild, tugging in all direction, whilst his stubbled jaw only added to his rough appearance. It was his eyes though that caught Annie unawares. There was so much depth to them that she could barely think straight whenever he held her gaze. When he smiled at her, when his eyes crinkled at the corner, she always felt her lips curving back in a ready smile, whilst her core pooled with warmth. It was all very strange, and certainly not something she wanted to dwell on.
“What are you going to do now, Joe?” she asked, turning back to finish the pastry for their chicken pie. “When are you planning on heading out?”
Joe shifted a little in his chair. “Well, this Simon of yours doesn’t appear to be coming back any time soon, but all the same, I’d like to stay on for a bit longer if I can. Just to make sure that you’re safe and that Laura’s not bothered by any of Boyd Bretton’s men.”
Annie shrugged. “Sure. You’re welcome to stay. It ain’t like anyone knows you’re here now, is it?” She had grown comfortable with his presence during the last few days. She trusted that he wouldn’t hurt her and that he wouldn’t do anything but protect her, just like he’d said he would.
His smile was warm. “No, I guess not,” he replied, a little more quietly.
“Are you heading back to Steerhorn?” she asked, aware of the unsettling feelings beginning to swirl through her as he continued to watch her. “What’s waiting for you there?”
Joe sighed heavily, raking his good hand through his hair. “Truth be told, Annie, I ain’t sure where I’ll end up. I don’t want to go back there if I don’t have to.”
A frown crossed her face. “I thought you said you had a patch of land there. Don’t you have a house?”
A slight look of frustration crossed his face, which was gone in a moment. “I have a patch of land, but I never did much with it.”
“Then what did you do?” Annie asked, a little more directly. “I know you didn’t live with your papa, so–”
Her question was cut off by a sudden knock to her front door. Her flour-covered hands froze on the rolling pin as she looked at Joe, who had suddenly risen to his feet.
“Who is it?” Annie called, as the knocking came again. “Who’s there?”
There was no response. The evening was already drawing in, but surely it couldn’t be Simon knocking at her door?
“Who is it?” she called again, dusting her hands off on her apron before walking towards the front door. “Who—?”
Her world exploded. The sound of a gunshot reverberated around the room. Without warning, Joe threw himself at her. Pain shot through her as she fell to the hard wood floor, her hands over her head as the sound of shattering glass filled her ears.
And then, there was silence.
Joe was holding her tightly, one arm around her waist as he lay curled around her, protecting her from whatever danger might have come into the house. She was breathing hard, not able to move, not able to understand what had just occurred.
“Are you all right?”
Joe’s hand was brushing her hair away from her face, his eyes looking urgently into her own as he waited for her to speak. “Annie? Are you hurt?”
She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, her breathing ragged. “I’m fine.”
“Can you sit up?”
Slowly, she pushed herself onto her elbow, and then, with Joe’s help, climbed to her feet. There was such fear in her bones that she felt as though danger was creeping in on every side. Unwilling to let go of Joe, she clung to him, her fingers twining into his shirt as he held her close.
“You’re safe,” he whispered in her ear, as her head rested on his shoulder. “You’re safe, Annie. It’s over.”
She swallowed hard, forcing her tears back. “What happened?”
He shook his head as she lifted hers to look into his eyes. “I can’t say,” he replied heavily. “But I can guess who’s responsible.”
Nodding, Annie slowly stepped away from him, her fingers loosening from his shirt. Her legs were wobbling and her limbs shaking, but she was determined not to give in to her crippling fear that threatened to have her hiding in a corner, refusing to even stand up to face what had just happened.
“Stay here,” Joe said firmly. “Let me go check outside, and then I’ll come back for you.”
Annie nodded, her lips trembling as she pressed one hand to her mouth. She was trying to work through what had just happened. She had no doubt that Simon had been the one knocking at her door, and then shooting through it when she didn’t answer. Thank goodness she had hesitated. Otherwise she might now be lying, stone dead, on the floor.
Her gut twisted. Perhaps Simon had given up on wanting to make her his wife. Perhaps he thought to just get rid of her so that he could get the house and the money that way. She hadn’t thought he’d ever become a murderer, but then again, how well did she really know him?
Shaking violently, she sank into a chair and rested her elbows on the table, her head sinking low. This was more terrifying than anything she’d experienced before – and it had all come from the moment Joe had shot at Simon in the darkness.
“You can come out now.”
Joe appeared
in the kitchen doorway, a grim look on his face. “Your front door is fine, but it’s the windows that have been shot out.” He shook his head, clearly furious. “Not all of them, but a good number.”
“But I had the shutters closed,” Annie whispered, realizing what the sound of shattering glass and cracking wood had been. “I don’t understand why he would do that. What if he’d hit me?”
Joe shrugged, his eyes dark. “I doubt he’d care, Annie. You live past the town. I don’t want to scare you, but no one would know if he’d been here or what he’d done. Your town ain’t got a sheriff, which means there’s no one to look into things like that.” His voice lowered, as he saw her shocked expression. “I ain’t wanting to scare you, Annie, but this man is going crazy over what he ain’t able to have. He knows there ain’t anyone to place the blame on his shoulders. You’ve got to let me protect you.”
His hand caught hers and jerked out of her fear. She looked up at him with as much steadiness as she could.
“What do I do?” she whispered, holding onto him tightly.
To her surprise, his hand trailed gently down her cheek, over the curve of her neck before resting on her shoulder.
“Come with me,” he said softly. “You’ll need to stay in the barn while I head on into town.”
“To town?” she repeated, suddenly frozen with fear that she would be left alone. “Why?”
He shook his head. “I gotta sort things out, Annie.”
“But what can you do?” she asked, her voice breaking with emotion. “He’s not going to stop, Joe, no matter what you do. Perhaps I should just give him what he wants.”
His hands caught her arms tightly, holding her as he looked down into her face.
“No, Annie,” he said firmly. “No. You can’t give him what he wants. Can you imagine the kind of life you’d have with him?” He let a few seconds pass, and Annie found herself shrinking back from the idea. She realized that she would have a lifetime of pain if she were to give herself to Simon.
