by Joyce Alec
“Ma, this here is Etta Charlton,” Reuben murmured behind her. “Come help her, will you? I’m not sure what else to do.”
Etta felt her eyes fill with tears as a kind-looking lady bent down in front of her, her expression gentle. She had the same blue eyes as Reuben and that same warm smile that burned through Etta’s distress.
“Etta?” she said softly, reaching for Etta’s cold hands. “I’m Hettie Drummond. Can I get you a cup of sweet tea?”
Barely able to focus, Etta looked at the lady crouching in front of her and felt herself dissolve into tears. She couldn’t speak, her breath coming in shuddering gasps as tears poured down her face. Her fingers twined together tightly, as Hettie rose to rub Etta’s back gently, murmuring comforting words.
“She says she was to marry Adler,” she heard Reuben Drummond whisper in a pitying sort of voice. “That fellow got himself hitched yesterday to some young thing that came off the stagecoach.”
“Go and find out what happened,” Hettie said firmly. “You’d best get the truth out of that man, or I’ll go on over there myself!” She sounded angry – furious, even – and that seemed to soothe Etta’s pain. Her sobs slowly subsided as Reuben left to go and speak to Mr. Jackson, leaving her alone with Hettie.
“There we are,” Hettie said at length, handing Etta a cup and saucer. “Now, can I get you something to eat?”
“No, thank you.” Etta wiped her eyes with her handkerchief before putting it back into her pocket, her other hand holding the sweet tea. “You’re being awfully kind to me, Mrs. Drummond, but I’d best go find out when the stage goes back to Winchton. I’m gonna need to get back on it.”
Hettie waved this away as she sat back down. “Nonsense! There’s no need for you to go all the way back home, not when you’ve only just arrived.” She gave Etta an encouraging smile, her eyes bright. “This here is a small town, but with plenty of opportunities. I’m sure we can find you something to do – or someone to marry, if that’s what you’re here for.”
Etta sniffed indelicately and shook her head. “I was meant to marry Mr. Jackson. I don’t understand what happened. I’m not late, that’s for sure, but I don’t know what else I’m meant to do now. I don’t have any money left, and the house I rented back home is gone to someone else.”
Hettie smiled. “You don’t need to go on back home,” she insisted gently. “There’s plenty room here for you to stay on for a bit.”
Etta’s heart leapt. “Stay here? With you?”
Laughing, Hettie nodded, her kind face alive with happiness. “Of course! I was just saying to Reuben only yesterday that I could do with a lodger. He’s got his own place just out of town, you see, and it can be awful lonely here some nights. My dear husband passed away a good few years ago, leaving just myself and Reuben here. My daughter, Betsie, she went off and married a rancher in Winchton the same year her father died, but she’s happy and settled with two young ‘uns. Seems like you’ve turned up at just the right time, Etta.”
Etta took a sip of her sweet tea, feeling her world slowly begin to right itself again. Even if she did go on back home, there was no hope of her finding her own place to rent and set up shop again. Besides which, she’d not been the only seamstress in town – and she certainly hadn’t been the most popular. That had been a difficult truth to face, but it had helped her make the next step in her life – coming to Copper Peaks to marry. She hadn’t wanted to linger in her hometown, not when she had no family left there and too many sad memories to tug at her mind. Coming out here and starting over had seemed like a good idea at the time, but she’d never imagined that her husband-to-be would go and do something like this!
“Can I ask where you’re from?”
Etta looked up, seeing the genuine interest in Hettie’s face. “Blandford,” she said simply. “It’s a good seven days travel away from here. I was a seamstress back at home, but the town was growing bigger and I wasn’t getting the work I needed. It didn’t help that my rent was increased, and since I don’t got a lot of money of my own, I thought I’d just come out here to marry and settle down.”
A flash of something caught Hettie’s eyes but was gone before Etta could properly catch it. “You don’t have family?” she asked softly.
Shaking her head, Etta sighed. “My parents both passed away some years ago. I’m the only daughter. My brother, Johnny, he went out to look for gold. I wrote to him to say where I was going, but I don’t know if he’ll ever get that letter. They move about so much that I never really knew where he’d be.”
Hettie nodded sagely. “The gold miners have a difficult life,” she acknowledged softly. “There ain’t no gold out this way though, that’s for sure. The only folk out this way are hard-working people, busy with their ranches and farms. It’s a good life, if a quiet one.” She smiled softly, her gaze traveling toward the fire for a moment. “You’d be more than welcome to stay, Etta. I’ve got a spare room in the back of the store.”
“The store?” Etta turned her head, realizing for the first time that she was sitting behind a counter, tucked away from the store itself. “Oh. I see. I-I didn’t see that you–”
“I do a lot of sewing and darning,” Hettie interrupted, before Etta could cling to her embarrassment. “In fact, it might just be an answer to a prayer, you coming here. I could do with some help.”
Etta blinked furiously. “You’re a seamstress?”
Hettie laughed and lifted one shoulder. “I do all sorts,” she explained. “I can fix things up or make something new. Sometimes I sell thread or yarn, depending on what folks are looking for. I don’t make much, but it’s enough. This place belonged to my husband before he died, and he left it to me. It means I don’t have to worry about paying the rent or anything like that. Just so long as there’s food on the table and a warm fire going in the evenings, I’m content enough.”
Still struggling to believe that Hettie was not only offering her a place to stay but something to do with her time, Etta found her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to speak.
“I’ll make sure you get your pay for what you do,” Hettie continued, either not noticing or ignoring Etta’s surprised reaction. “Although I will ask you to help about the place too. The laundry, the sweeping, the cooking – that kind of thing.” She smiled as Etta began to nod feverishly. “And you’re to call me Hettie, none of this ‘Mrs. Drummond’ nonsense.” Her smile grew as she tipped her head to look at Etta carefully. “Do you think that would suit you?”
“That would be wonderful,” Etta said hoarsely, tears flooding her eyes as she struggled to blink them back. “I can hardly believe this.”
Hettie’s smile grew. “Well, it seems both our prayers have been answered,” she replied, just as the door opened to admit Reuben back again. “I’m sure glad to have you here, Etta.”
“Thank you, Hettie,” Etta breathed, her heart slowly losing the fear and distress that had come the moment she’d realized her life here wasn’t going to be as she’d planned.
Reuben cleared his throat as he came towards the fire, walking through the open part of the counter to join them. His face was grave, and as Etta looked up at him, she saw his eyes were flickering with anger. Something was wrong.
“Did you find Adler?” Hettie asked, as Reuben nodded jerkily. “Did he say what happened?”
Etta saw the look Reuben threw at her. It was as if he was worried about speaking honestly, as though she might reel backward in distress at the news.
“It’s all right,” she said softly, aware of just how intense his gaze was when he fixed it on her. “Hettie has offered me a place to stay.”
Reuben’s eyebrows shot up into his hair.
“It seems Etta here is a seamstress,” Hettie explained with a glad smile. “And wasn’t I just saying to you that I was thinking of finding some kind of lodger?” She gestured towards Etta, who felt herself grow a little anxious over Reuben’s surprised reaction. “Etta has agreed to come live here with me and
help me with the store.”
Reuben cleared his throat—although his mouth didn’t curve up into a smile. “I see,” he said slowly. “And that isn’t gonna be difficult for you, Etta? Seeing Adler about the place with his new bride?”
Something bit at her heart, hard.
“I’ve never met the man,” Etta explained, her voice a good deal softer than she’d intended it to be. Was she afraid of Reuben’s reaction? Afraid that he’d find some reason to take Hettie’s offer away? “I don’t know what he looks like or whether or not he’s a good man. If he’s hitched, then it doesn’t affect my heart, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Reuben nodded tightly. “That’s understandable. And you arent planning on getting yourself hitched any time soon, are you?”
Flushing, Etta dropped her head, hearing Hettie scold Reuben immediately.
“What a question to ask her!” Hettie exclaimed crossly. “For goodness sake, Reuben, stop fluttering about me like some kind of mother hen. It Etta finds herself wanting to get hitched, then that’s exactly what she’ll do. You don’t need to worry that I’ll get myself a lodger, only for them to then get married and leave me in the lurch. That ain’t how this works.”
“I’m just concerned for you,” Reuben replied gently, as Etta slowly lifted her gaze back up to him, seeing the redness of his cheeks. “You’ve been a bit lonesome this last while, and I want to make sure that—”
“You don’t got nothing to worry about, Reuben,” his mother said firmly. “Now sit yourself down and tell us what happened with Adler. I’m sure Etta is desperate to know.”
Etta, still feeling a good deal of embarrassment, took comfort in the fact that Reuben too was now rather red-faced, whilst Hettie was sitting with a small, wry smile on her face as Reuben began to explain. Reuben obviously cared a good deal for his mother. Whilst she thought that was a kindness in him, she was glad that Hettie had set things straight. At least she’d not had to answer Reuben’s question. In truth, she had no intention of getting herself hitched since she’d only just arrived in Copper Peaks and didn’t know a single soul other than Reuben and Hettie.
“It seems Adler was in town yesterday, coming out of the saloon at the same time as the stagecoach,” Reuben explained, his eyes glinting with anger. “A young lady by the name of Jessie Richbank came on down, looking for her husband-to-be. She’s a mail order bride too, you see, and had come to marry Martin Armstrong.” He shrugged, glancing over at Etta. “Martin Armstrong’s one of the ranchers about these parts, and he was late getting to the stage. A problem with the cattle, I think. Anyway,” he continued, returning his gaze to his mother. “Adler came out of the saloon and took a shine to this young lady, so lost and alone. I’m not quite sure how it happened or what he said to convince her, but seems they’ve gone and gotten themselves hitched without Martin knowing a thing about it.” Sighing, he rubbed his forehead. “Martin’s been shouting and hollering outside Adler’s door practically all day apparently. I went and spoke to him after I found Adler. Seems the man’s quite upset. Not because he knew Jessie or anything, but more that Adler went and did something so terrible without even the smallest consideration.”
Hettie caught her breath. “Then, does Martin want to marry Etta, in Jessie’s place? He is a good man after all, and if he needs a wife, then…” She trailed off, and Etta felt her gut twist suddenly, anxiety rising up inside her. She didn’t want to go and marry some stranger, not when she’d only just found herself settled.
“No,” Reuben said, allowing Etta to let out a sigh of relief. “Martin says he ain’t getting hitched any time soon, not after what Jessie’s gone and done. Says she’s just a reflection of what all women are like – flighty and unthinking.” He shot Etta an apologetic glance, as if to say that he didn’t think that. “I guess, in its own way, everything’s settled for the moment. Just so long as you’re glad to stay here, Etta.”
“I am,” she replied, feeling herself slowly fill with relief as all the uncertainty and doubt faded away. “Thank you, Reuben, for helping me. Hettie, thank you for offering me a future here. I really am truly grateful.”
Hettie smiled kindly. “You’re more than welcome, Etta. We’ll get along just fine, I’m sure of it.”
Reuben’s face lit with a smile, clearly now quite glad that Etta would be staying here with his mother. “Welcome to Copper Peaks, Etta. I sure am glad to have you here.”
“Thank you,” Etta replied, a little surprised to discover that she couldn’t quite take her eyes off the man in the chair, whose blue eyes were brighter than any she’d ever seen before.
3
“What do you mean, she wasn’t there?”
Reuben shrugged, holding his hat in one hand. “I’m sorry, Gus. The woman wasn’t there.”
Gus Jamieson, the owner of the Jamieson ranch, ran one hand through his short, cropped, dark hair and let out a long, heavy sigh. His eyes were tired, his frame filled with weakness instead of its usual strength. The man was clearly very unwell.
“I was sure she’d be there,” Gus murmured to himself, leaning on the table with both arms as he rested his head in his hands. “She was meant to be…” Trailing off, he looked steadily over at Reuben, agony in his expression. “Are you quite sure Laurel wasn’t there?”
Reuben nodded, a little exasperated. “Yes, I’m sure,” he replied firmly. “I looked in the stagecoach myself. There was only one lady in it, and she isn’t your Laurel—although you still haven’t told me who she is to you.”
“I don’t understand,” Gus replied hopelessly, ignoring Reuben’s last comment as he flung himself back in his chair. “She knew to be careful. I–”
He stopped dead, his mouth closed in a tight, thin line as though he’d said too much. Reuben stayed exactly where he was, not moving and not speaking. There was a trust between them both since they’d been friends for a good many years, but still, he knew that Gus kept many secrets to himself. Whatever the matter was, it was obvious that he wasn’t willing to share it.
“I need her,” Gus said eventually, shaking his head. “Did this other lady say anything about her?”
Reuben sat down on the chair opposite Gus and tried to remember. “Her name is Etta Charlton,” he began slowly. “When I met her off the stage, she said something about there being another lady on board, but that she got off the stagecoach somewhere between Winchton and here.”
Gus’s eyes opened wide, his face paling. “She left the stage?”
“Yes, but Etta said that she was given a horse by the driver and made her way alone,” Reuben said quickly, as he remembered what Etta had said. “It was obviously planned.”
Gus’s hands gripped the table edge, hard, as though he was summoning all of his strength. “I have to speak to her,” he said firmly, his eyes fixed on Reuben. “I have to speak to this Etta, whoever she is. Can you bring her here?”
Something fired a warning into Reuben’s mind. “I’m not sure about that, Gus,” he said softly. “Etta’s been through quite a shock, and she’s only just recovering.”
“I need to speak to her,” Gus insisted, his fingers white on the table. “It’s important, Reuben. I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t important.”
Reuben hesitated, seeing the urgency in his friend’s eyes but still feeling an overwhelming urge to protect the lady. “Give her a few days,” he said softly. “Let her get settled in and get used to this town, Gus. You can’t go scaring her with your demands and your fiery questions.”
Gus’s jaw clenched.
“You don’t need to worry,” Reuben continued, with as much gentleness as he could, despite remaining firm. “I swear to you I’ll bring Etta here, so you can ask her about Laurel, although I don’t think she’ll tell you anything different from what I’ve said.”
He looked back steadily at Gus, seeing the man’s jaw jut out for a moment, as if he were about to argue, only for him to nod and shrug, his shoulders slumping as he leaned heavily on the table again. “T
hank you, Reuben,” he muttered, now back to his hopeless, dejected state. “I’d appreciate that.”
“I could ask the sheriff to send out a few folks to try and find where Laurel is?” he suggested hopefully. “Would that bring you any comfort, Gus?”
“No!” The word exploded from Gus’s mouth, surprising Reuben. “No,” Gus said again, his eyes fixed on Reuben. “You can’t go telling no one about her, Reuben. Do you understand? No one. Not even the sheriff.”
Reuben hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “I know this Laurel means a lot to you, Gus, but I’m not sure why. There’s a lot going on I don’t know about, and I know full well it isn’t my place to know. But if you want to tell me something about this lady and what’s really going on with her and with you, then I’d be happy to listen and do what I can to help. You know that, don’t you?”
There was a long silence. Reuben stayed where he was, watching Gus lean heavily over the table, his breathing labored. It was clear Gus was battling with his emotions, and Reuben gave him the space and the time he needed to get ahold of them.
“I know, Reuben, thank you,” Gus said eventually. “This isn’t something I can easily share.”
“Can you at least tell me who she is to you?” Reuben asked, growing a little frustrated that he knew so little. “I swear I won’t say nothing.”
Gus sighed heavily and put his head in his hands for a moment. “She’s my sister-in-law,” he replied quietly. “My brother’s wife. But you’re not to breathe a word of this to anyone. She has to be careful. I’m the only one who can protect her.”
Getting to his feet, Reuben put his hat back on his head. He’d vaguely known John, Gus’s brother, but remembered him as a much quieter man when compared to Gus. John had worked on the ranch for years, very rarely coming into town, and Reuben remembered how surprised he’d been to know that John had headed out of Copper Peaks to go get hitched. It had been some years ago, but he’d never thought of John since and certainly hadn’t ever asked about his wife. It turned out then, according to Gus, that this Laurel was simply his sister-in-law. That made sense and explained why Gus was so concerned for her.
