by Joyce Alec
Jessie felt her throat ache—although a small smile caught her mouth. “You don’t owe me nothing, Martin,” she whispered, finding the urge to reach for his hand growing steadily. “You already gave me so much.”
They held each other’s gaze for a long moment until, finally, the sheriff caught their attention. Jessie felt suddenly reassured with Martin simply sitting by her and Hettie on her other side. Hettie had been right when she’d said Jessie wasn’t alone anymore. Even though she felt she didn’t deserve Martin’s help, he’d come to support her anyway. There was kindness in him, kindness and forgiveness, which he’d offered to her the moment he’d realized who she was. What she did to deserve it, she didn’t know, but she clung onto it anyway as though her very life depended on him.
“You told the sheriff that I found you at the same time as you heard the gunshots?”
Jessie looked up at Martin, aware of his strength as she leaned on him as they walked. The sheriff wanted her to retrace her steps as best she could so that he could see exactly where she’d been, and Martin had offered to ride with her back to the ranch. They were on their way to the horses, giving them a few minutes alone to talk.
“I did,” she admitted softly, dropping her gaze. “I’m sorry if that was the wrong thing to do, Martin, but I could see that the sheriff was thinking that you might have been… involved.”
“With Adler’s death?” Martin asked, sounding less than surprised.
She nodded. “I couldn’t let him think that. Not after what you’ve done for me.”
Martin frowned, his expression dark. “But you don’t know nothing about me, Jessie. For all you know, I might have shot Adler.”
She stopped walking and looked up at him, letting her gaze run over his features. Somehow, in the space of a few hours, he’d become one of the most important people in her life. “Did you, Martin?”
There was a momentary pause before he shook his head. “No, I didn’t. Although I’m guessing the sheriff—if not the whole town—knows I had reason to.”
A sad smile tugged at her lips. “If I’d only waited a bit longer and not listened to Adler, then none of this might have happened.”
He touched her shoulder gently, his tenderness bringing tears to her eyes. “You don’t need to upset yourself about that,” he promised, as she let her gaze drift to his. “I’m not going to pretend that I wasn’t upset, which I’m guessing you knew since you probably heard me shouting at your door, but I can’t go on being angry about it now. Not after what happened last night.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, blinking back her tears. “You’re a good man, Martin Armstrong.” She didn’t know how she knew she could trust him, but it was there, deep within her, refusing to be ignored. Perhaps it was because he’d been as good as his word last night, making sure that she was safe and protected and not fearful of him at all. The way she’d slept soundly, knowing she was out of harm’s way, confirmed that he wasn’t a man who’d treat her like Adler had. “I sure am glad you found me last night.”
He smiled at her then, his expression changing altogether and making her smile back in return. “You’re safe now, Jessie. There’s nothing for you to be afraid of any longer. You can live any life you want. Once the funeral’s over, you’ll be able to find yourself again. You have the house and the farm to call your own.”
A frisson of fear ran through her as she thought of the farm, remembering the men who’d been there last night. She knew they were looking for her, and after what had happened with Adler, she didn’t know what they’d do to her now. “I… I can’t go back there. Not when Adler’s men are still there.”
“They’re needed to work the farm,” Martin replied, his eyes searching her expression. “You don’t need to be afraid of them, Jessie. You won’t have to go back there alone.”
Shaking her head, Jessie forced herself to drag in a long breath, refusing to let terror rampage through her again. Looking up into his eyes, she took his hand in hers, holding it tightly. “You’re one of the only people here I know I can trust,” she said, trying to put as much conviction into her voice as she could. “I need someone to get rid of those men, Martin. I know I’m asking a lot of you, especially when you’ve given me so much already, but…” Trailing off, she dropped her head, embarrassment burning her cheeks. His eyes had taken in shadows as she’d spoken, his brows furrowing and expression dark. He didn’t want to do this; she was asking too much of him.
“I’ll make sure those men are gone.”
Her head rose sharply, surprised at his sudden willingness.
“No, Martin, I shouldn’t have asked. I—”
His hand squeezed hers, silencing her. “I get why you don’t want to even look into their faces,” he said, his lips taut as he spoke. “You don’t need to worry about them any longer. I can make sure they’re gone in a couple of weeks and have a look at the farmland for you. There might not be too much to do to keep things going. It’s only just past the harvest.”
“But what about your own ranch? Don’t you have enough to do here?”
He shrugged. “I have a couple of folks helping out at the ranch, and they can do without me for a bit. And I know Reuben Drummond could do with some extra work right now. I can ask him to come out and help me, if you’d like.”
Reuben Drummond was Hettie’s son and the man who’d married Etta, who was meant to be Adler’s wife. Jessie paused, wondering if Reuben would bear her any ill will, only to throw the thought aside. From what Hettie had said, Reuben and Etta were as happy as anything.
“If you think he’d be willing, then I’d sure be glad of it,” Jessie murmured, feeling his hand soften in hers. “I just don’t feel as though I deserve any sort of kindness from you, or from this town. Not after what I did. Adler always told me just how much people here were talking about me, how much I’d humiliated myself.” Her voice grew thin, her emotions rising up in her again. “Maybe it’s best if I start again somewhere new.”
Martin let his gaze linger on her face, his lips flattening. “Listen, Jessie, Adler wasn’t a good man. This whole town knows it. No matter what he said to you, I can promise you that no one here thinks badly of you. They know what Adler was like, and the fact that you were never seen about the town only made folk concerned. When I went to find Hettie, she was relieved to be able to come and help you. There’s folks that have been worried about you, Jessie. There’s no need to leave Copper Peaks and start somewhere else. No one’s trying to run you out of town; no one’s trying to chase you away from here. Not even me.” A glimmer of a smile brought a rush of relief to her. “Once this whole business is over, you’ll be able to find a life for yourself here,” he continued, squeezing her hand gently. “Copper Peaks is a wonderful little town, and I know you’ll be able to find happiness here. I won’t—I don’t—bear any grudges, Jessie, especially not after what happened to you. The way you looked at me last night, Jessie, I’m not ever going to forget that.” He paused for a moment, his gaze dropping to the ground as he spoke. “Adler took away your happiness, your freedom, and your joy. Let Copper Peaks give that back to you.”
Jessie drew in a long breath, finding herself freed from the chains that had still shackled her. It was a strange feeling, but she let it linger, her hand still in his.
“I guess I can stay,” she murmured as he let go of her hand. They began to walk back towards the horses, her heart still heavy with the pain and sorrow of her life with Adler but now with a slowly growing sense of freedom and hope. Hope that seemed to ignite her very soul.
6
Two Weeks Later
Martin didn’t know how he’d managed to get himself mixed up with Jessie even more, but for whatever reason, he’d told her that he’d help her out with the farm. Now, two weeks after he’d first talked with Jessie about it, here he was at Adler’s farm, Reuben Drummond riding beside him.
“They’re not gonna take kindly to this,” Reuben muttered, tipping his hat back with one long fing
er. “Did you say you warned ‘em already?”
“I sure did,” Martin replied, jumping down from his horse and looping the reins over the hitching post. “Came out here on the day of Adler’s funeral and told them they’d need to get gone by today. Course, they didn’t much listen, but they can’t say I didn’t tell them. The sheriff’s spoken to them all, but most of ‘em were too drunk to remember anything. All he found out was that Adler was trying to ride after Jessie when he was shot. First in the leg, and then in the chest after he fell off the horse.”
A little surprised, Reuben looked back at Martin, who then realized the amount of anger that he’d displayed in his voice.
“I didn’t much like the man,” he explained, a little embarrassed. “Not that I had anything to do with shooting him.”
Reuben looked at him for a long moment, before shrugging and jumping down from his horse, throwing the reins next to Martin’s. “There might be a ruckus,” he said, changing the subject back to their task at hand, much to Martin’s relief.
“Maybe,” Martin agreed. “But I said to Jessie I’d get these men gone. After the way they treated her, I’m not surprised.” He’d managed to have a few conversations with Jessie over the last few days, eventually finding out what it was that had scared her so badly the night she’d been out here with Adler. It had sent fire into his bones that any man could have treated his wife with such disregard, hating the fright that had appeared in Jessie’s eyes as she’d talked about him. The first week after Adler’s death, it had seemed as though Jessie hadn’t quite been able to believe that Adler was dead and buried, especially since she still jumped with every little sound. Whenever the door opened, she’d stilled completely, her eyes rounding as she looked towards the door, as though she expected Adler to walk inside.
He hated seeing it.
Thankfully, this week, she’d seemed to find a little bit of herself again. She’d seemed stronger, which was, he thought, mostly down to Hettie’s almost constant visits. There was something about the way she spoke and the way she moved around the house that told him she wasn’t as afraid any longer. Maybe that was why he’d offered to help her with the farm. He wanted to see her continue along the path she was heading down—although that would suggest that she was becoming important to him somehow, which he sure wasn’t about to accept.
“Why did you go telling Jessie you’d come out here and help her?” Reuben asked, interest in his voice. “Thought you’d want to get as far away from her as you could.”
Martin snorted, covering the fact that he had very little explanation as to why he’d wanted to help her so much. “She was lying on the ground right in front of my ranch,” he said, gesturing wildly with his arms. “Flat-out afraid and crying, desperate to escape from whatever—or whoever—was looking for her.”
Reuben’s lips pulled flat. “Adler, then.”
“Yes, Adler,” Martin growled. “I wasn’t about to just leave her lying out in the dust now, was I? That’s not the kind of man I am.”
“I know that,” Reuben replied mildly, “but you didn’t have to come and take care of the farm like this. She could have found someone else to do it.”
As they walked towards the farmhouse, Martin mulled over what Reuben had said. That was true, he could have easily let someone else take over this place instead of doing it himself, but seeing Jessie so distraught and confused, he’d not been able to stop himself from offering to help her.
“You didn’t see her,” he said eventually by way of explanation. “She was so lost, Reuben. She couldn’t believe that Adler was gone, worrying about almost everything all at once. Now that she knows for certain that the farm and the house belong to her, she’s got more responsibility than ever before. It’s only right we do what we can to help her.”
Reuben nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true, but it still didn’t have to be you who took the responsibility. She could have asked the sheriff.”
Becoming a little frustrated, Martin blew out a loud breath of exasperation. “You didn’t see her face, Reuben. If you’d been there, then I know you’d have done the same thing, no matter what she’d done to you before.”
A small, quiet chuckle escaped from Reuben’s lips. “I don’t mean to rile you, Martin. I’m just wondering if this bride of yours is still meant to be your bride one day.”
“Ha!” Martin laughed, the sound ricocheting through the air around them. “Don’t you remember what I said when I first found out about her, Reuben? I’m sticking to what I said. Women are just flighty and unreliable, and I ain’t planning on ever letting one of ‘em into my heart. I meant what I said back then, and I mean it now. Just because Jessie’s in a bad way don’t mean I’m planning on proposing to her. If I ever get hitched, it’ll be to another mail order bride, who I’ve never set eyes on before.”
Reuben didn’t smile, his expression becoming tinged with sadness. “That isn’t how it has to be, Martin.”
“It’s how I’m choosing it to be,” Martin replied firmly. “Now, let’s get on in here and get these men sorted out. I don’t want them here any longer.”
Kicking the sand off his boots as he climbed the steps to the front door of the farmhouse, Martin pushed open the door and stepped inside.
No one was there.
“Strange,” he muttered as Reuben came to stand by him. “I swear I saw some horses in the barn earlier.”
Reuben shrugged. “Maybe they’re in the dog trot, or out working.”
Snorting with laughter, Martin shook his head. “Working? When they know they’re gonna get asked to leave by the end of the day? I don’t reckon so. Maybe they’ve done what I told them and left already.” If they had, it was more than he’d expected, although it would come as something of a relief.
“I’ll go have a look outside,” Reuben said, leaving Martin standing alone in the house.
His skin prickled uncomfortably as silence crept over him. There was something troublesome going on here, he was sure of it, but he had no idea what it could be. His fingers twitched, his pistol close at hand. If there was trouble, he wouldn’t hesitate when it came to defending himself.
“Is anyone here?” he called, his voice reverberating around the room. “I’m here on behalf of Jessie Jackson. She’s paid everyone off, and you’re all to leave the farm today. Don’t go dawdling.”
There was no reply, no noise, not even a creak of a floorboard. The quiet pervaded the room, making Martin shiver.
Then, he noticed the door to the bedroom was closed tight. It wasn’t exactly the best hiding spot, but from what he remembered, it did have a window that looked out onto the trail. If someone was in there, they’d easily have been able to see Martin and Reuben coming.
Martin didn’t hesitate. Striding forward, he turned the handle with one hand, pulling his gun out with the other. Shoving the door open hard, he came to a dead stop as a tall, thin man turned slowly towards him.
“Get out,” Martin said at once, through gritted teeth. “This ain’t your place no more. Jessie’s asked you all to leave, and I intend to make sure that happens.”
The man’s eyes were so dark that for a moment, Martin wondered if they were black. He had narrow features and an unruly mop of dark hair that fell over his forehead. To Martin’s surprise, the man grinned at him, clearly entirely at ease. It was a shadowy, sardonic smile, and Martin’s hand tightened on his gun almost involuntarily.
“I asked you to leave,” he said, stepping away from the door and gesturing towards it. “Get on, now.”
The man tipped his head. “You’re Martin Armstrong,” he said, as though they were just having a simple conversation. “The rancher.”
“It don’t matter who I am,” Martin replied firmly. “Get on, now. I won’t ask you again.”
The dark-haired man chuckled, the sound setting Martin’s teeth on edge. “I don’t think you got much right to ask me anything, Martin Armstrong. Especially not after what you’ve done.”
A cold chi
ll raced right through him, his finger loosening on the gun for a moment.
“I saw you that night,” the man continued easily. “You thought you’d gotten away, but I was there. I was the only one of Adler’s men who didn’t take to drinking that night. I take my duties seriously, you see.”
Martin’s anger rose. “I take what’s mine,” he said firmly, without showing even a hint of fear. “You’ve got nothing over me.”
The man laughed again. “You take what’s yours and make sure to stop anything that gets in your way, is that right?” he asked, one eyebrow lifting. “Is that what happened to Adler?”
Martin froze, his heart stopping in his chest for a moment.
“I could easily go tell the sheriff what I saw,” the man continued, when Martin said nothing. “Seems only fair, given that he’s investigating what actually happened. No one knows who shot old Adler now, do they?”
Given that the whole town knew that Adler had been murdered and that the sheriff was investigating, this didn’t come as a surprise to Martin. “I’ve got nothing to hide,” he replied fiercely. “You go on and tell the sheriff all you like. I’ll make sure to speak to him first if I have to. What I took was mine to begin with. Adler liked to steal from me for his own gains—and to laugh at my expense, I’m sure. But that doesn’t mean that I’m responsible for his death. My gun wasn’t the one that shot him dead.”
This seemed to take away some of the man’s arrogance. He frowned, the lazy smile fading from his face as he looked back at Martin. Martin lifted his chin, refusing to be cowed, his chest rising and falling steadily.
“Then, I reckon you might want to protect Mrs. Jackson,” the man replied after a moment or two of thought. “I hear she’s an awful fine young thing, but that the poor lady was terrified of Adler. I saw some of the goings-on that night, so I know exactly what she had to endure.” The smile came back to his face, making Martin want to punch it from his face. “But then again, she did try and run for it. What a shame she found a gun and shot Adler as he came after her.”
