“It is quite different, but I like it,” Hope replied, a bit absentminded. Or at least I think I like it. At this moment though, not so much. No matter how hard she tried, she could not fully concentrate. Sheriff Owen’s image was still in front of her eyes, looking at her the way he did, saying those words.
Without actually trying, she managed to create quite a mess out of her life. Hope ran away from one type of mess only to find herself in an even bigger one.
“I am sorry you have to do this.”
Hope shrugged. Me too, she thought. “It is what it is. We are here, and I only want to help.”
How was she supposed to face Sheriff Owen in the future? And there was no ignoring the fact that she would have to, eventually, and sooner rather than later.
She supposed she could act like a coward and try to avoid it. Knowing the Sheriff, that would not work. Furthermore, there was the other side of the coin she needed to consider as well.
How was she to face Mr. Dalbow?
Hope sighed. Hope, you are in so much trouble, you cannot see the beginning or the end of it.
“I know the Sheriff said we should divide and conquer,” Deputy Gibson continued to chat with her. “However, I would feel more comfortable if you would stay by my side the whole time. I will deal with the bandit, learn as much as I can from him, and then we can go and look for your friend.”
Hope thought about that for a moment then nodded. “As you wish.”
Deputy Gibson had a point. She did not want to roam alone in an unfamiliar town. That was how girls ended up missing in the first place. Logically, she did not care to be next, her face drawn on some piece of paper that hung in the Sheriff’s office, begging to be found.
And now she was thinking about the Sheriff again, not that she actually stopped before. It was a bit hard to keep up a conversation with the deputy. She did her best, not wanting to appear rude.
“How long have you been an officer of the law?” She asked, trying to distract herself.
“All my life,” he joked.
It did not help. Hope was still someplace else.
After all of this was over, whether she found Jessamine or not, and she prayed to the heavens that she would, Hope would have to sit down and think long and hard about her future. Her next course of action. She could not live like this any further, trapped between two men. She knew that.
Hope could not keep living with Mr. Dalbow if her heart was not in it. But even if she broke it off with him, that did not automatically mean something would happen with Sheriff Owen and that they would have a happy ending. Just because he said those words to her in a heated moment did not mean they would ride into the sunset together. Hope was not that naïve.
Oh, what a mess! Her head started to ache.
“We are almost there,” Deputy Gibson announced, misunderstanding her anguish.
“Good,” she replied, not bothering to set him straight. What could she possibly say anyway? I am like this because I had a terrible argument with Sheriff Owen since we apparently have certain feelings for one another. I do not think so. She would die of embarrassment on the spot.
Hope asked Deputy Gibson some general, common questions about the town they were visiting and he was happy to oblige.
“It was a mere mining camp at first, but over time it swelled with people...” Unfortunately, Hope only half-listened to him, too rattled to fully pay attention.
Oh, stop it. You cannot keep doing this. There will be plenty of time to think, analyze and stress about every little detail of what transpired, later, she informed herself sternly.
At the moment, Hope really needed to concentrate on Jessamine and finding her. Jessamine is most important at the moment, Hope truly believed that. And just like that, all her other thoughts vanished. Reminding herself why she was there in the first place helped her find her focus.
Besides, as she noted before, she was rather rude to the deputy and Hope prayed he did not notice her absent-mindedness. Hope was ashamed she allowed her own problems to make her so worried to forget herself or her manners. Not to mention to express gratitude he let her come with him. Deputy Gibson could have easily said no when Sheriff Owen asked him if Hope could accompany him.
“Thank you for letting me come with you,” Hope corrected her wrong immediately.
He smiled. “No problem.” He leaned toward her as though to share some secret and Hope mimicked.
“Between you and I, you are preferable company to Deputy Pharis. He talks too much,” he joked and Hope laughed. She really needed that. There was such a huge weight pressing on her, preventing her from breathing, caused by so many different reasons, the Sheriff, Jessamine, Mr. Dalbow, her father, it was good to simply laugh and relax, even if it was for the briefest of moments.
“Here we are,” the Deputy said shortly after, pointing to the outline of the town that started to appear in the distance. Her stomach knotted itself. And just like that, Hope was dead serious again.
I can do this. No matter what happens in Black Creek, I can handle it.
21
“What did you just do?” Kit asked him. Owen wasn’t even aware his deputy came out and joined him. He looked after Hope. She did not turn to look at him, which was understandable.
Owen could not believe he just said all that to her. He did not exactly confess his undying love to her but he came pretty close. If there was a wall nearby he would gladly hit his head against it. Repeatedly. It was like he was possessed while talking with her.
No, he corrected himself instantly. He knew exactly what he was doing, and was not going to place the blame somewhere else. He knew and he did it anyway, without any care for the consequences. And now, there was no going back. He couldn’t turn back the hands of time. Would you want something like that, anyway? he challenged.
Owen wanted her to know how he felt inside. Perhaps it was selfish of him, however, the intensity of his feelings pressed him so hard he had to share them. And he wanted to learn how she felt in return. Well, now you know. Are you happy? He grumbled at himself, picturing her shocked face. That wasn’t the only emotion she displayed.
“Did you hear me?” Kit demanded, breaking Owen’s train of thoughts.
“I have to go,” Owen heard himself say.
“What? Now? Are you all right? You look deathly pale.” Kit said it all in one breath.
Owen did not know if he would even see her again. There was a rather real possibility he had frightened her. So it was only natural he lost some of his color. Anybody would be pale in his place, given the gravity of the situation.
What if he managed to ruin everything? Owen was worried. It was true things were not rosy perfect even before he practically yelled at her and that was no comfort at all.
“I am fine,” Owen managed to choke out, as he started to walk. Could he walk all the way to Brexville? At the moment, that sounded like a great idea.
By the look Kit gave him in return, he was not fooling anybody.
What if Hope spurns me because of my folly? He felt a pressure against his chest as if his horse was sitting on top of him, preventing him from taking a deep breath. He tried to anyway.
Kit got in his way, preventing him from going any further. “Owen—”
“Please, Kit, let me be,” Owen came pretty close to begging. After saying that, he sidestepped his right-hand man, going toward the corral and this time Kit let him, which was good considering Owen was experiencing a sudden surge of terror and did not want or need an audience.
Stop exaggerating, he snapped at himself. He did not do anything wrong. He simply stated his true feelings in all their glory, whether they were good or bad. Perhaps it was a bit tactless, he allowed, although he was sure something like that was bound to happen, and sooner rather than later.
Owen was absolutely sure he would have eventually had enough of his suppressed feelings and exploded, just as his sister thought he would.
And what do you call this? It wasn’t as though he
was gentle with Hope. He was irked by her behavior and lashed out. Owen was beyond stupid. It would be a true miracle if she ever wanted to see him again.
“Sheriff?” Father Clemente’s voice snapped him from his reverie.
Was it a sign he ran into the priest at this moment? Maybe he could speak with Father Clemente about his problems?
Maybe some other time. His plate was full at the moment, and he couldn’t keep wasting time on personal problems when another innocent girl got murdered. Priorities mattered.
“Good day, Father Clemente. How are you?” Owen stopped to greet the other man, forcing a smile. He heard Father had some health problems. Looking at him now, he looked fine to Owen. Looks can be deceiving, though. Nobody knew that better than Owen.
“When you get to my age, every day brings a new problem, although I am not complaining.” There was a genuine smile on that wrinkled face and Owen was impressed by his view of life. “How are you, my son? I haven’t seen you in a while,” Father Clemente asked in return, visibly concerned.
Owen pretended not to see that.
Owen felt ashamed. It was true he didn’t come by the church as much as he used to, as of late. “I have been busy,” he tried to justify his behavior. Truth be told, he was angry. Owen was angry at God for allowing all of this to happen, there was just too much evil in this world, angry at Ghost for even existing. Mostly, he was angry at himself for not being able to catch that monster.
“I know,” Father Clemente replied with a sigh, and for a moment Owen wondered if he said all of that out loud. “There will always be bad people who keep you busy.”
Luckily, he did not share his inner thoughts. Good, I did not go completely mad. Yet, he added glumly.
“Actually, it is a blessing I ran into you,” Father continued in the same manner. “There is something I wanted to say to you.”
“Father, did something happen?” Owen was instantly on high alert. He put aside all his troubles and concentrated on the priest. As he noted before, he looked well. Perhaps something occurred to one of his parishioners, or the children he was looking after.
“No,” Father Clemente was quick to reassure him. “Well, yes,” he corrected himself. “It’s about McNelson.”
Owen wasn’t following. “What about him?”
“I presume you heard Millie was found,” Father replied, adding a small, “Praise the Lord.”
“Yes,” Owen replied simply.
As it turned out, McNelson’s daughter tried to run away with some boy that worked on their farm because she got pregnant and was afraid of her father’s wrath. Some relatives spotted the happy couple and returned them to the McNelson farm.
Millie was right, her father was infuriated, but relieved she was safe and sound at the same time. So they compromised. Father Clemente was going to wed the couple next Sunday and they would stay on the farm. Owen was glad this story had a happy ending. He wished more of his missing girls were that lucky, to not be missing at all, simply bold enough to choose their own fate.
Like Hope.
“Praised be the Lord for this fortunate turn of events,” Father Clemente said with a small smile. Granted, the situation was not ideal, the bride was in a blessed state without actually being married. They all chose to overlook that small detail for the greater good.
“Indeed.” Owen could not agree more. “But what did you want to tell me?” Owen added, not seeing the point.
Father Clemente took a step toward him so he could place a hand on his shoulder. “About McNelson’s behaviors, while he gathered all the men for the search party...”
Owen was aware of all the things McNelson said about the Sheriff in those moments.
“Please do not take all of that too personally. He was just a father worried about his daughter.”
It was hard to look at things that way. Owen nodded nevertheless. “Of course, Father. I fully understand.”
Father Clemente looked pleased. “Good. You are a good man, Owen, don’t forget that.”
Owen really wished he was. “Thank you, Father, for saying that,” Owen replied honestly, appreciating the priest’s good will. “And Father?”
“Yes?”
“Could you ask Him for some help—I could really use it,” Owen wasn’t even joking. He could really use all the help he could get and was not too arrogant or proud to even beg for it. As it turned out, he would also ask for some divine assistance for the tiniest of clues. If the Lord deemed them worthy of such a gift.
“Of course, I always do,” the priest replied solemnly.
“Thank you. I have to go, Father,” Owen added a bit apologetically.
“Of course, of course, I know you are busy. Sorry for keeping you for this long. You know how it is, you forget yourself in old age,” he joked.
“I don’t mind. Have a good day.”
“God bless you, my son.”
Owen simply nodded and smiled in return before he walked away. He did not bother to stop by the house to collect his things or speak with June. He would find everything he needed in Brexville. The journey was long and he didn’t want to delay it further. Furthermore, Owen knew June would understand. This was not the first time he had an emergency on his hands and had to ride to some other town for a while without notice.
Besides, he was certain Kit would inform her about what happened, hopefully leaving Hope out of his narrative, and make sure she was all right while Owen was away on business.
Getting to the corral, he groaned. ’You are like some pest I can’t get rid of,” he grumbled.
Kit was already there, mounted, clearly waiting for him and fully ignoring his complaint. How did he end up here without Owen seeing him? His chat with Father Clemente wasn’t that long.
I always knew he was some kind of a wizard and now I have proof.
“Before you tell me to leave,” Kit started, “save your breath. Because I don’t care. I am not letting you make this journey alone.”
“You must let me go,” Owen insisted. There was no real fire in his words. He felt spent.
“You two obviously had a fight and I know you need me,” Kit continued to argue.
“I do,” Owen replied to Kit’s shock. “I need you to stay here.” Owen could not believe how calm he sounded. Maybe those few words exchanged with Father Clemente worked, even though he didn’t share the causes of his anguish, Father calmed him.
Kit rolled his eyes. “The lads can govern themselves, it wouldn’t be the first time,” Kit said, anticipating Owen’s next words.
He was not wrong. “I need you to take care of June,” Owen said, grasping for straws.
Kit looked at him incredulously. “She would skin me, us, alive, if she heard you say that.”
Kit was right, Owen simply hoped Kit would agree on the grounds he was affectionate toward June. Owen was desperate enough to use his sister to make Kit stay in Rippingate.
“I don’t know how to break this to you but your sister is far more formidable than you,” Kit continued, unaware of Owen’s thoughts.
“Please,” Owen surrendered. “I need to be alone.” And that was God’s honest truth.
Kit looked at him long and hard, while contemplating. “Are you sure?” He said eventually.
And Owen knew he won, which was a relief. “Yes. I want to clear my head for a bit.” He would have plenty of time to do that during his journey to Brexville. He loved his friend dearly. That did not mean he felt like sharing his inner thoughts with anybody at the moment. Knowing Kit, that was precisely what he would force Owen to do.
Kit sighed. “All right, as long as you are sure.”
“I am.”
Kit dismounted and they traded places. Owen patted Kit on the shoulder while they passed each other.
“And thank you,” Owen added.
“Don’t thank me yet. We are still going to have a nice little chat when you get back.”
Owen could hardly wait. He pictured then having a tea party. That almost brought a
smile to his face. “You sound like you’re my wife,” Owen jibed.
Kit batted his eyelashes. “You wish you were that lucky,” and this time Owen chuckled, despite himself.
“Kit?”
“Yes?”
“Please look after Miss Hope.”
Kit inclined with his head. “Of course, as though she was my own kin. You didn’t even have to mention that.”
Without further ado, Owen signaled his horse to start moving. After a while, there was nothing around him apart from harsh, sunburned nature.
The Redemption 0f A Hunted Bride (Historical Western Romance) Page 20
