by Joyce Alec
Her fondness had turned to affection, and her affection was slowly turning to love. The thought of not having him in her life was a wretched one, to the point that it was almost physically painful to even think of it. She couldn’t imagine a life without Reuben, and yet, she’d forced herself to ignore those feelings as best as she could, telling herself that the brooch and the telegram had to be dealt with first. Now, if she was sharing them with him, there would be nothing standing in her way.
“Reuben,” she called, as her horse moved towards the cabin. “Reuben?”
He looked up, a smile splitting his face as he dropped the ax and came towards her.
“Etta!” he exclaimed, reaching for her to help her down from the horse. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
She faltered, looking up at him as her feet touched the ground. “I ain’t bothering you, am I?”
Shaking his head, he took her hand. “No, not at all. I sure am glad to see you. I’ve been worried about you.”
Her worry comforted, she smiled up at him, not moving away. “You don’t need to worry about me, Reuben. I’m just fine. Your mother did a fine job helping to get the room sorted and back to rights.” Her smile slipped as her mind ran over everything that had happened. “I guess it’s just not knowing who’s behind it that troubles me a bit.”
Reuben’s eyes grew sympathetic. “I know,” he murmured gently. “But you’ve come to talk to me about it all now, haven’t you? So you won’t have to carry that burden all by yourself any longer.”
Her smile grew again, her fingers tightening in his. “I guess that’s true.”
“Then come on into the house,” he said softly, although he didn’t make any move to walk inside. “We can talk there.”
Reuben still didn’t move, even though she nodded. Instead, she saw his eyes darken, his gaze roving gently around her face. Her breath quickened as she looked up at him, knowing desperately what she wanted to do and yet finding the ability to do it much too frightening.
The horse whinnied behind her, breaking the moment in an instant. Etta laughed as the mare stamped, clearly desperate to go into the field with the other horses.
“I’d best take her in,” she laughed, taking the reins from around the mare’s neck as she stepped out of Reuben’s embrace.
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little frustrated. “Sure. Just come on in when you’re done.”
Leading the mare to the field, Etta felt her cheeks burn with heat. He’d been about to kiss her, she was sure of it, and she’d found herself desperately wanting him to. Shaking her head, Etta silently reminded herself why she was here in the first place. The brooch and the telegram were all that mattered right now. Everything else could come after.
“So,” Reuben began, as they sat down at the roughhewn table in his small cabin. “Someone was searching your room last night. What was it they were looking for, Etta? And how do they know you’ve got it?”
Etta felt her mouth go dry as her heart began to pound wildly. She could hear Laurel begging her to keep this a secret, begging her not to say a word to anyone, but despite that, she rose and picked up her coat that was hanging on a peg by the door. Delving into the pocket, she pulled out the black velvet bag and the telegram, before bringing it back over to the table.
“I think they were looking for this,” she replied softly, setting them both down in front of Reuben. “I didn’t tell Gus the truth. Laurel said a lot more to me than I told him. On top of that, she begged me to take this.”
He frowned. “What is it?”
“Have a look.” Etta held her breath, as Reuben slowly opened the velvet bag and let the brooch tip out onto his hand. His eyes widened as he stared at the rubies and diamonds and the gold flower in the center, his breath coming out in a hiss.
“I know,” she said slowly. “I couldn’t believe it either the first time I saw it.”
“I don’t understand,” Reuben replied, looking at the brooch still and not at her. “This was Laurel’s?”
Etta shrugged. “I guess so.”
“And she gave it to you?” His eyes flitted up to hers. “Why?”
Briefly, Etta told him everything that had happened on her journey to Copper Peaks. She told him about the fear in Laurel’s eyes, the desperate, sudden request that she take the brooch in order to keep it safe. “She said she’d come back for it,” she finished quietly. “But I haven’t seen her yet.”
“But why did she ask you?” Reuben asked, frowning. “She didn’t know you from Adam, unless you did know her before then?”
Something twisted in Etta’s gut. “No,” she replied firmly, a frown etching her brow. “I didn’t know her before we got onto the stage, Reuben, just like I said.” Didn’t he believe her? “I didn’t even know her name until I saw the telegram and read it.”
There was a short, strained silence. “And you think this has got to do with Gus,” he suggested, reading the telegram again. “You think he’s the one Laurel has to be careful of.”
“I do,” Etta admitted quietly, seeing varying emotions flit across Reuben’s face. “I know he’s your friend, Reuben, but I can’t help thinking that there might be more to him than it seems. The way he spoke to me, the brashness and rudeness of his words, I–”
“He was just upset,” Reuben interrupted, looking at her from under lowered brows. “I don’t think Gus has got anything to do with this, Etta.”
Etta swallowed her sharp response and chose to sit quietly for a moment or two, trying to gather her thoughts. She’d always been worried that this was what Reuben would think when it came to light that his friend was involved.
“You can’t put all of this on him, just because he’s the only one asking for Laurel,” Reuben continued, his tone even firmer. “There’s maybe someone else we don’t know; maybe it’s the same person who broke into my mother’s store and ransacked your room.” He shrugged, setting down the brooch onto the table. “And you don’t even know Laurel either. What if she’s not as good as she seems? What if she’s stolen this and someone’s trying to get it back?”
The thought had never crossed Etta’s mind, she had to admit. Laurel had seemed so frightened, so ill at ease, that she’d simply just accepted that what she said was the truth. Even now, reflecting on it, her instincts told her that Laurel was exactly who she appeared to be.
“I understand what you’re saying, Reuben, but I can’t just ignore Gus,” she replied, choosing her words carefully. “Don’t you remember that you were unsettled by something he said as well? You were angry that he’d gone and spoken to me like that, weren’t you? Don’t you got the slightest concern about him?”
Reuben didn’t answer for a moment, his gaze fixed on the wall behind her head. His jaw was clenched, his eyes a little icy as he thought.
“No,” he said eventually, slamming one hand down on the table and making her jump. “No, I haven’t got any concerns over Gus. I’ve known him a long time, Etta, and I know for certain he’s not a threatening, dangerous sort of man. Yes, he’s got a temper, but who doesn’t have flaws?” Shaking his head, he held up one hand to stem the flow of protest coming from her lips. “Don’t you go forgetting now, that you’re a newcomer to this here town. I know the folks around here, Etta. You don’t.”
His words stung, even though Etta knew he hadn’t meant them that way.
“You asked me to tell you the truth,” she said firmly, refusing to let her convictions waver. “Well, there it is. If you’re not willing to consider Gus, then that’s your business. I can’t trust him, Reuben.” A sudden thought hit her, and she tipped her head. “Tell me, has Gus ever mentioned Laurel’s brother?”
“Brother?” Reuben looked up sharply, his brows furrowing deep. “No, never.”
“Then why not go ask him?” she replied with a small shrug. “When we were there last, I met someone outside Gus’s ranch house claiming to be Laurel’s brother.”
Reuben frowned. “Laurel’s brother? Gus never mentioned
that, but then again,” he continued, his voice growing quieter as his gaze traveled away from her. “He really never mentioned much about Laurel.”
Etta felt her heart settle into a deep, comforting rhythm. She was getting Reuben to think, and that, at least, was a start. “He won’t let you talk to the sheriff about her either, will he?” she said quietly. “Why is that, Reuben?”
He rubbed one hand over his eyes. “I don’t know,” he admitted eventually. “It’s been bothering me, but I guess I trust Gus. I suppose that whatever’s going on, he’s got the best intentions for it.”
She pressed her lips together for a moment. “Don’t you trust me, Reuben?”
Reuben closed his eyes tightly, his lips in a thin line. “Don’t ask me that, Etta.”
“Why not?” she persisted, sitting forward in her chair. “You know there’s questions about Gus that neither of us can answer. You’re right to say that I don’t know much about Laurel, but I saw just how afraid she was. I saw the desperation in her eyes. Do you really think she’d give this brooch, this expensive, wonderful brooch to a complete stranger, if she wasn’t desperate?”
He shook his head to himself, his eyes now open and fixed on her. “I don’t know what to think, Etta,” he said heavily. “But I can’t just turn around and agree that Gus is a dangerous man and that I need to protect this Laurel from him. You don’t know him like I do, Etta. He’s my friend.”
“I know he is,” she replied at once. “But what if there’s more to this than you know? What if the reason he doesn’t want to go to the sheriff is that he’s afraid of what he’ll uncover? What if–?”
“Stop!”
Reuben had shot to his feet, his eyes wide and wild.
“Please, stop, Etta,” he said again, his voice loud enough to shake her to her very core. “I can’t deal with this, not yet. I have to think. You’re asking me to think badly of my friend, and I can’t do that. I’ve known him for years. I can’t believe that he’s the one breaking into my ma’s store and then rifling through your things. That ain’t the Gus I know.”
She got to her feet, her heart sinking to her toes. “Then I guess I’ll just deal with this myself,” she replied, feeling more alone than ever before. “I can’t ask you to do more, Reuben. That’s not fair to you. I’ve told you everything, but please, swear to me you’ll keep it to yourself, at least for the moment. Not a word to Gus, or to the sheriff. For Laurel’s sake.”
He looked up at her, agony in his expression. “Etta, I–”
“You don’t have to say anymore,” Etta interrupted, her heart aching terribly as she made her way to the door. “I understand, really.” She managed a small smile in his direction, sadder than she could say that things hadn’t turned out the way she’d hoped. She’d been desperately hoping that he’d agree to help her find out more from Gus, that they’d be able to work together to discover the truth about the brooch. “You know where I’ll be when you want to talk. Whatever you decide, Reuben, I won’t judge you, I swear. I care about you too much to think badly of your loyalty and your respect.” Pulling the door open, she let her gaze linger on him for a long moment, seeing the torment still etched on his features. “Don’t take too long to come back to me, Reuben. I don’t think I could bear it.”
Closing the door behind her, Etta held her head high as she hurried towards the field to catch her mare. Her eyes burned with tears, her breathing quick as she struggled to keep her composure. This hadn’t been what she’d expected, what she’d hoped for, but Reuben had his reasons to trust what he knew of Gus’s character. If he wasn’t able to take the matter further and help her look into things, then so be it.
It wasn’t until she was riding back to town that Etta realized that the brooch and the telegram were still back in Reuben’s cabin. She’d left them on the table, and she certainly wasn’t going to go back for them now. Maybe they were safer there anyway. Tears dampened her cheeks as she rode, wiping them away with the back of her hand.
The town soon came into view, but Etta felt herself almost unwilling to see Hettie just yet. Hettie would most likely ask her why she’d been crying, given that it was going to be near impossible to hide her puffy eyes. Bringing her horse to a stop, she dismounted and caught the reins, choosing to walk back slowly, giving her more time to gather herself and not give into yet more tears.
So caught up was she in her own thoughts that she didn’t see a figure step out from behind her, half hidden by the long waving grasses and clumps of rock. Neither did she hear him moving towards her.
It wasn’t until something hard hit her across the back of the head that she realized she was in danger, but by then everything had begun to fade to black.
8
“Reuben?”
The day had been long and Reuben wasn’t quite ready to head on in. He’d been out chopping more wood, or sometimes just sitting on the stump, thinking about everything Etta had said to him. Now, the day was drawing to a close and the air was growing decidedly cool, which was why he was all the more surprised to see his mother riding towards the cabin.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, dropping his ax and hurrying towards her, seeing the worry on her face in the dim light that was so quickly fading. “Ma? Aren’t you well?”
She let him help her down from her horse, her hands clinging to his arms. “It’s Etta,” she said, her eyes searching his face. “It’s Etta. Have you seen her? Is she here? Why has she stayed out here so long, Reuben? You know that’s not right, especially for an unmarried woman.”
Reuben swallowed hard as a cold hand of fear wrapped around his heart. “I-I haven’t seen her since she left here,” he stammered, as his mother gasped with fright. “She was here to talk to me about what happened in her room and what they were looking for, but she left not long after. I haven’t seen her since, Ma.”
“Oh, goodness,” Hettie breathed, one shaking hand pressed to her forehead. “I don’t know where she’s is, Reuben. At first, I thought she’d been out here with you, that you might have had some…things to talk about, but then when it came to supper time and neither of you appeared, I thought it best just to wait for a little while longer.” Her eyes dropped to the ground, her face pale in the dim light. “I should have come out here earlier. I didn’t think–”
“Has her mare come back?” Reuben asked, trying to think quickly about what they could do to find her. He’d given Etta that mare to use as her own, and she usually stabled it in town, in the blacksmith’s stables.
His mother shook her head. “No, the mare wasn’t there when I went to get my own horse,” she replied hoarsely, tears glistening in her eyes. “That’s why I thought she was still out here with you, Reuben. Maybe she’s had an accident somewhere out on the plain; maybe the mare is lame and…” She trailed off, clearly unable to think about what else might have happened.
A wave of panic crashed over him as he held his mother’s hands tightly, knowing that, most likely, Etta hadn’t met with a simple accident, as his mother had suggested. After everything she’d told him, after the ransacking of her room, Reuben had to believe that there was more to her disappearance than just a simple accident.
“The brooch,” he whispered aloud, an idea suddenly hitting him. Etta had left the brooch and the telegram behind, whether deliberately or not, he couldn’t say, but perhaps someone had been looking for the brooch and, having been unable to find it in Etta’s room, had decided to search Etta herself. Or take her and demand that she tell them where she’d put it. How they knew that Etta had the brooch in the first place, he couldn’t begin to guess, but something in him told him that he was right to think this was all tied up with Laurel.
“The brooch?” his mother repeated, looking up at him, confused. “What do you mean? What brooch?”
“I can’t explain now,” he said firmly, letting go of his mother’s hands. “I need to ride out and see if I can find her somewhere. You stay here, Ma, just in case she comes back.”
His moth
er shook her head. “No, Reuben. I can’t stay here and do nothing!”
“You have to,” he pleaded, knowing that there was still danger out on the plain. “Please, Ma. I need you to be safe. Please.”
Her gaze was steady as she looked up into his eyes. After a moment or two, she conceded. “I guess I can do that. I’m just sick with worry over her. I don’t understand where she is, or what’s happened to her. You have to find her, Reuben. You have to!”
“I will, Ma,” Reuben promised, his resolve steadying. “I know what to do. Trust me. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Now, go into the house and bolt it. Max will keep you safe.”
Max was Reuben’s dog, who was certainly good at alerting Reuben to whenever someone was coming by but wasn’t much good for anything else. At least he’d be a good deterrent if anyone did come near the house who wasn’t wanted.
“I will,” his mother replied softly. “Be safe, Reuben.”
The night was dark and the air was cold—and still, Reuben searched. He was grateful for the strong moonlight that broke through the sky, lighting his way as his horse trotted carefully across the plain.
He didn’t know how long he’d been searching, but with every minute that passed, his desperation grew. He had to find her soon, if she was still here, out on the plain in the cold night air.
Regret overwhelmed him. Perhaps he was responsible for this. After all, if he hadn’t been so determined to believe that Gus had nothing to do with Laurel’s strange disappearance, then perhaps she wouldn’t have ridden off on her own back to town. He’d never imagined that she would be faced with any real threats, even though her room had been ransacked only yesterday. He’d never once thought that she might be in any sort of physical danger, but as the minutes passed, he was more and more convinced that he’d been completely and utterly wrong.
