by Joyce Alec
Hazel said nothing, waiting for him to speak. There was so much in his heart, so much to be said, that she needed to give him the space to do it.
“I don’t want to be apart from you,” he finally admitted, opening his eyes and looking down at her. “Oh, Hazel, I don’t want you to go.”
She laughed softly, putting her arms around his neck. “Stephen, I don’t want to leave you either. I wasn’t planning on just packing up my things and taking the train back home just because you decided things were over.”
He rested his forehead against hers, his breath tickling her cheek. “Can you take this broken man, Hazel? I’ve got so much to tell you, so much to talk to you about, but my heart is still learning what it means to live without pain, without doubt.”
The lump in her throat was so great that she could hardly speak. “We’re both broken,” she replied tenderly. “But do you think you can trust me, Stephen? Can you open your heart to me and let me in?”
His lips touched hers for the briefest kiss, and Hazel felt tears dampen her cheeks.
“I know I can,” he murmured, his arms now around her waist. “I’m sorry for what I did, Hazel. I won’t turn from you again. I won’t be afraid to say I love you.”
Those words entered her heart and stayed there, happiness running all through her. “And I love you, Stephen. For as long as we both shall live.”
Etta’s Secret
Copper Peaks Brides
1
Copper Peaks, 1862
“You must take this.”
Etta Charlton sent a confused look towards the lady sitting across from her on the stage. She hadn’t taken much note of her only other traveling companion, being quite tired from the last few days of seemingly endless travel. She took her in now. The lady was dressed all in black, from the shoes on her feet to the bonnet on her head. Was she in mourning? Had something terrible happened to her?
There were lines grooved into the lady’s forehead as she stared desperately at Etta—and still, there was something youthful about her appearance. Etta took in her sparrow-like features, growing slowly aware of just how thin the lady was and just how white her fingers were as she held the bag out to Etta again.
“You must take this.”
The lady was leaning forward in her seat, with one hand clutching something in her hand. Etta could see fear in her dark grey eyes, as dark curls tumbled from underneath the lady’s bonnet, and she felt a trembling clutch at her heart. She had no idea who this lady was and certainly had very little understanding of what it was she wanted.
“Please!” the lady exclaimed, her eyes rounding. “I can’t go to Copper Peaks with it, not yet. I don’t want to believe it, but he might be right.”
“Who?” Etta asked, still sitting there as confused as ever. “We aren’t yet at Copper Peaks, and I–”
“Take it,” the lady insisted, pressing the black velvet bag forcefully into Etta’s unwilling hand. “I will come back for it one day soon. What did you say your name was?”
“Etta,” Etta replied, feeling the lady’s tight grip grasping at her wrist as a slight sweat broke out on her forehead. “Etta Charlton, but I’m to marry once we get to Copper Peaks. I’m a mail order bride, and I’m to wed this very day! We’re only to be traveling for a few more hours, so can’t you keep whatever this is? I’m sure the sheriff in Copper Peaks will be able to help you with whatever your trouble is.”
The lady didn’t appear to hear her, sitting back in her seat and letting out a sigh of relief. Her eyes closed, as she sagged back in her seat, evidently at peace now that she had managed to give the bag to Etta. Hardly daring to breathe, Etta looked down at the small velvet bag and felt her heart quickening with a sudden fear.
“What’s your name?” Etta asked a little tentatively, suddenly afraid that the lady might collapse into a dead faint at any moment. “And what’s in the bag? I don’t understand why–”
“I’ll come back for it, I swear to you,” the lady whispered, her eyes still closed. “Once I’m safe. Once I’m sure I’m safe. I’ve got to be sure of him.”
Etta rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand, growing all the more frustrated. “Safe?” she repeated, suddenly growing more and more anxious that the stagecoach might come to a sudden stop and that gunslingers would scramble aboard. “What’s the matter? Where are you going? Who’s chasing you? I don’t understand.” She looked down at bag in her hand again, suddenly feeling as though she were holding some kind of terrible dark omen.
All of a sudden, the lady opposite her roused herself and rapped loudly on the stagecoach roof. The stagecoach came to a dead stop, and Etta felt her heart slam wildly into her chest. The lady opposite her slowly gathered herself, evidently having expected as much.
Etta looked out of the window. There didn’t seem to be anything or anyone here. All she could see was the sandy plain stretching out in front of them, dark and empty.
“I’ve gotta go,” the lady said hoarsely, looking at Etta as though she’d understand what she was talking about. “I’ll be back for that. Keep it safe for me, won’t you? And don’t tell a soul about it. I’ll return; I swear.”
Etta found she couldn’t speak, her voice sticking in her throat as the lady pushed the stagecoach door open. She paused for a moment, looking back at Etta with dark grey eyes that seemed almost haunted with either pain or fear.
“Thank you,” she said, and then she stepped out of the stagecoach and shut the door behind her.
Etta tried to call out but found that she couldn’t. Something was exchanged between the lady and the driver, and much to Etta’s surprise, the lady was soon on horseback. Evidently, this had all been planned. The stagecoach moved off almost at once, leaving the mysterious lady behind. Etta twisted her head to look out of the window and saw, to both her relief and her frustration, that the lady was making her way determinedly in one direction. It was obvious she knew where she was going.
And then a cloud of dust hid them both from view.
“Who was she?” Etta whispered to herself, realizing that she still held the bag tightly in her hand. She almost didn’t want to open it, suddenly afraid of what she’d find inside. It was evidently very important to the lady, whoever she was, but it obviously also held a good deal of danger. Etta’s breath was shuddering in her chest as she tried to keep herself calm, her fingers shaking as she opened the velvet bag carefully.
Slowly tipping the bag to the side, she let whatever was inside tip out onto her hand. Catching her breath, her eyes took in the most beautiful, sparkling brooch she had ever seen.
It seemed to be encrusted with both diamonds and rubies, albeit rather small ones, and in the center was what looked to be a small, gold flower. A flower she couldn’t identify, not knowing much about that kind of thing, but as she turned it over, Etta saw that there was a small inscription on the other side.
“D.J. and R.T.,” she read aloud, her brows furrowing as she gently traced the inscription. It truly was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, but even as she looked at it, there came a swift kick of guilt, as though simply just holding this piece was wrong in some way.
What was she meant to do with it now? She hadn’t exactly promised the lady she’d keep it for her, even though it had evidently brought the lady a good deal of relief to know that it was safe in Etta’s hands. What if it didn’t belong to that mysterious lady? What if Etta was, somehow, complicit in the theft of the brooch?
Sighing, she rubbed her forehead, hard, trying to clear her thunderous thought and let her heart settle back down into a more regular rhythm. There was nothing to be afraid of. She was just letting her mind spin off into a thousand different thoughts, her imagination running like one of the wild horses that lived on the plain. She didn’t have to worry about the brooch now. All that she needed to concentrate on was getting herself to Copper Peaks and then, soon after, getting herself hitched.
Sitting back in her seat, Etta let out a long, slow breath, as
she shoved the brooch back into the bag and set it into her inside coat pocket. It wasn’t worth getting herself all worked up over at the moment, not when there was nothing else she could do other than keep the brooch. Maybe she’d be able to tell her husband all about it, once she got settled in her new home. Someone else’s opinion might be a great help.
Etta was just about to close her eyes in order to try and relax and maybe even sleep, when something caught her eye. A small, white piece of paper sticking up from the side of the stagecoach, right where the mysterious lady had been sitting. Frowning, Etta hesitated for a moment, before leaning forward and picking it up.
It was a telegram.
“It’s not yours,” she said aloud, holding the folded piece of paper in her hands, her eyes fixed on it. “It’s probably that lady’s.”
All the more reason to read it.
Sighing to herself at her own lack of fortitude, Etta unfolded the telegram quickly and shook it out just a little to remove any creases. The light outside was already growing dim, but it was bright enough for Etta to still be able to read the few short words inside.
What she read scared her almost half to death, her skin prickling as a sense of dread wrapped itself all the way around her throat, tightening painfully.
“‘He’s after you,’” she whispered aloud, her eyes scanning the page. “‘He knows what you’ve got. Be safe, Laurel.’”
Laurel. Was that the lady’s name? Etta frowned, realizing that she couldn’t tell whether the telegram was for the lady or had been sent by her. Surely, given the fear on the lady’s face, she had been running from something – or someone. That would make her Laurel then—most likely.
“Who were you so afraid of, Laurel?” Etta asked aloud, folding the paper back up and, for whatever reason, putting it carefully into her pocket alongside the velvet bag. Her gut twisted as she recalled just how much fear had been in Laurel’s eyes as she’d begged Etta to take the bag. The bag that Etta now carried.
It was all so very confusing. Etta pulled out her small kerchief and dabbed at her brow, knowing that she’d need to look her best when it came the time to greet her husband-to-be. She had to just set aside her thoughts and fears about the telegram, the brooch, and the lady she now knew as Laurel. She would hold onto the brooch and pray that Laurel would, at some point, come back to town and collect it. Perhaps then she might get the whole story, the whole truth, from her.
Her breath rattled out from her chest, sending a wave of tremors through her. For whatever reason, she was afraid. Before now, she’d only just been nervous, worrying about getting to Copper Peaks and meeting her fiancé, but now she felt as though her stomach were tying itself in knots.
“Come on now,” Etta said aloud, trying to bolster her courage. “It’s not like there’s gonna be a murderer in Copper Peaks, coming over to the stage with a gun in his hand, trying to find Laurel.” The idea was ridiculous, and it brought a small smile to her lips, despite the frantic beating of her heart.
There wasn’t long to go now. Everything would be just fine by the time she got to Copper Peaks. By the end of the day, she’d be settling herself in her new home with her new husband, all ready to begin the new life she’d managed to find for herself. The brooch, the telegram, and Laurel would have to be forgotten for a time.
“Copper Peaks,” she whispered, her heart lifting just a little with a fresh hope of what her life would soon be like. “Copper Peaks and Mr. Adler Jackson.” She let her mind clear of any lingering fear, a smile on her lips as her eyes gazed out of the window, dreaming of meeting her husband-to-be for the very first time.
2
“Is there just you?”
Etta looked down at the man who’d open the stagecoach door for her, thinking that he had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. They were filled with questions, looking back at her with steadiness, and Etta felt her breath catch for a moment.
“Ma’am?”
She blushed, realizing she hadn’t yet answered his question.
“Yes, it’s just me,” she said softly, suddenly feeling almost frantic with nerves as her gaze lifted past the man to look beyond him, wondering where Mr. Adler Jackson might be. “Might you help me down?”
It was now his turn to look embarrassed, perhaps ashamed he’d not thought to offer first, and he quickly offered her his hand. Holding it tightly and being very well aware of the many callouses that lay underneath her fingers, she stepped down from the stagecoach and out into the fresh air. Copper Peaks. She was here.
“Might I ask you, ma’am, if–”
“Etta Charlton.”
He paused. “Miss Charlton, might I ask you if there was someone else with you? I was told to expect two passengers today.”
Etta turned her gaze back onto him, feeling a warning ring in her ears. “No, I was the only one,” she replied truthfully. “There was someone else, but she got off a little ways back.”
“Got off where?” the man asked, scratching his light brown hair. “There ain’t no other places between here and Winchton.”
Etta shrugged, finding that, for whatever reason, she wanted to protect Laurel. “We both left Winchton together, but she stopped the stage a good few hours ago. She seemed to know where she was going.” She looked at the man again curiously, wondering why he was so interested in the missing passenger. “Did you have something to give her?”
The man looked confused. “Give her? Oh, no. No, not at all. It’s just that….” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his head whilst a confused expression crept over his features. “I was just told to collect someone else from here and take ‘em out to the ranch. Mr. Jamieson couldn’t do it himself since he’s gotten infirm lately, and I was happy to help.” Shaking his head, he sighed. “Guessing I’d best go back and tell him his girl isn’t here.”
“How do you know I’m not his girl?” Etta asked defensively, feeling as though she had been snubbed.
The man flushed again, his cheeks darkening. “Begging your pardon, Miss Charlton, but Mr. Jamieson said his lady was to have grey eyes and very dark curls. Your eyes are green.”
“Oh.” Etta subsided into silence, her own embarrassment mounting. Clearing her throat, she looked all about her, realizing that she ought to be looking for her own husband-to-be instead of having all of her attention fixed on this man in front of her.
Copper Peaks seemed to be a small sort of town. Her eyes roved over it quickly, glancing over her shoulder to see a few more stores lining the boardwalk.
“Is this it?” she asked, gesturing to the town. “Is this all of Copper Peaks?”
The man grinned at once, looking almost proud of it. “Sure is,” he said, folding his arms and leaning against the stagecoach. “It’s getting bigger all the time. We’ve got ourselves a seamstress, a barber, the saloon, and the general store. There’s a couple other smaller places too, but they’re only just getting established. Soon enough, we’re gonna have a big booming town!”
Etta, who had just come from a big town, quietly thought that there wasn’t much hope of that happening in the next few years, given that Copper Peaks was just so far away from everything but kept her opinion to herself. Her own hometown of Blandford had been almost growing by the day, and that had only been because of the appearance of the railway. Unfortunately, it hadn’t grown quickly enough to keep Etta in business.
“I’m Reuben,” the man said, interrupting her thoughts as he lifted his hat to her in greeting. “Reuben Drummond.” He looked at her inquiringly, and Etta felt her cheeks burn all the more. Despite herself, she had noticed that Reuben Drummond was, in fact, quite handsome. He had an easy smile and a warmth in his eyes that had immediately made her feel welcomed. His fair hair was neatly hidden under his hat, with only a dusting of stubble across his chin. Still leaning against the stagecoach, Reuben continued to smile at her, his arms folded across his broad chest. “Are you meant to be going somewhere, Miss Charlton?”
She nodded and tried to smile. “J
ust ‘Etta’, please. Yes, I’m here to find Mr. Adler Jackson.”
A dark look crossed Reuben’s face as he pushed himself away from the stagecoach. “Now, what would you be wanting with him?” His tone was dark, his brows furrowed, and Etta felt herself grow hot with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Was it because of how she looked that he seemed so surprised? She’d done her best to make sure she looked half decent, but a good few days of traveling could put anyone out of sorts.
Planting her hands on her hips, she glared at him. “I’m to marry the man, Mr. Drummond. Why? Does that surprise you?”
“Yes, it sure does,” he replied. “And you can call me ‘Reuben’, by the way.”
Her jaw tightened, her frustration rising steadily. “And why does it surprise you, Reuben?” she asked firmly, praying that it wasn’t to do with her lack of elegance or some such thing.
Reuben frowned, his arms still folded across his chest. “Because Adler got himself hitched only yesterday.”
Etta stared at him for a long moment, struggling to believe what he’d said. Putting her hand on her heart, she dragged in air, feeling the world begin to spin slowly about her.
“Careful now,” Reuben said hastily, reaching out one strong hand to grasp her shoulder. “Don’t go fainting on me now.” His eyes searched her face, but Etta couldn’t even find the strength to speak. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be true. Mr. Jackson had promised her he’d be waiting for her the moment she arrived and that they’d go get married that very same day.
“Here, come and sit down,” Reuben murmured, now with one arm around her shoulders. “Come on, Etta. Come and sit with me. We need to get you something warm and sweet to take that shock out of you.”
Etta didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing, not hearing Reuben tell the stagecoach driver to follow them with Etta’s bags. She let Reuben lead her across the sandy ground and up onto the boardwalk, her feet clattering loudly on the wooden slats. Somehow, she found herself seated beside a warm fire, her teeth chattering violently as cold shivers raged all through her.
