He pushed it across the counter for Tom to read.
Tom’s eyes skimmed the little scrap of paper, took the pencil from Charley, corrected a word, and then he nodded with a big smile on his face.
“This will do fine! Pretty soon you’ll have a whole row of pretty gals lining up to make you dinner and start a brood of children with you.” Tom placed the little bit of paper on top of the newspaper. “I’ll take that to the print tomorrow morning, first thing.” His eyes sparkled proudly as if Charley had done something monumental that everyone in town should know about.
As Charley picked out his supplies, his eyes kept wandering back to the scrap of paper. He still wasn’t sure that it was a good idea. What if a woman just came to turn around and go back once she met him?
Could he take that type of humiliation? He had experienced everything under the sun already, and honestly, he liked the routine and normalcy of his life alone. He liked knowing what was going to happen and when, and it was a disturbing thought to think of someone coming in and changing his way of life. But then again it might be a nice change. He could only hope that somewhere out there a young woman would want to give it a try.
After all, what Tom said was true. He might live a different life now than he had five years ago, but he wasn’t made of stone. He missed having a conversation with someone who talked back. Jug did his best, but his conversations were rather one-sided. He missed having someone to share his day with, to share his dreams with.
Charley shook his head. That wasn’t going to happen. The best that he could hope for was a woman who would tolerate him, and that would be a miracle in itself.
Once Charley was on his way back to the ranch, he kept having thoughts of going back and retrieving his ad, but knowing that Tom would never allow it forced him to continue his journey home. His ad was out there now, and whatever came of it was going to happen, whether Charley was ready for it or not.
Chapter 3
“Everyone’s going. What’s the harm?” Darren’s voice was becoming more and more annoying to Fern rather than threatening.
She pushed through the crowd a little faster, trying to lose Darren behind her, but her efforts were in vain.
“I’m not going, Darren. Don’t ask me again.” Several people around them turned to stare, and some young women covered their mouths to whisper to each other.
Fern heaved a sigh.
“Would you stop following me?” She turned to face Darren, knowing that if she didn’t stop him, he would follow her all day long.
“I would stop following if you would say that you’d go with me,” Darren said, leaning in towards her.
Fern took a step back and protectively placed one of her arms around herself.
“First of all, you’d never catch me in a saloon. I don’t care how many people are going. Second of all, I have no interest in going anywhere with you.”
Darren’s eyebrows shot up, and he opened his mouth to speak.
“It doesn’t matter how many flowers you give me or nice things you say. I know who you are, Darren. I don’t care for you in that way or any way really. Just stay away from me.” Fern pronounced each of her last words with care, spacing them out so he’d know exactly how much she meant them.
“How – I have been nothing but a gentleman with you, Fern. I am asking you nicely to reconsider.” Darren’s voice had gone gravelly, and a shiver ran down Fern’s spine.
“I won’t reconsider, Darren. It doesn’t matter how many times you ask nicely. I am NOT interested.”
Darren reached out and grabbed her arm, squeezing it painfully.
“Well then, let me ask not so nicely. Come with me Fern, or you’ll regret it.” Darren’s voice had a cold tone to it that made Fern’s heart falter, but she stood her ground.
“No. Now take your hands off me before I scream.” She kept her voice even, but she was shaking inside.
If she hadn’t been interested in Darren before, she definitely wasn’t now. He disgusted her, and she wanted to be as far away from him as possible.
Darren let go of her arm reluctantly and stepped back.
“You’ll see. You will wish you had come to the dance with me,” he said menacingly before disappearing into the crowd.
Fern watched him go until she couldn’t see him anymore.
She didn’t know if she should be worried about his threat or not, but something told her he was serious.
She knew that Darren didn’t really care about her. He was the type of man that wanted the thing he couldn’t have, and once he had that, he would leave it tossed on the side of the road, used and forgotten.
She adjusted her skirt and moved on to the next stand.
“The usual?” the vendor woman asked, already starting to put apples, potatoes, and carrots into a heap for her.
Fern nodded and gave a quick glance over her shoulder.
It’s nothing, she told herself. But a nagging voice at the back of her mind wouldn’t let Darren’s voice fade.
She kept glancing over her shoulder for the rest of the afternoon, and when she finally made it into the house with a basketful of purchases, she made sure that the door was bolted behind her.
Everyone knew that Darren liked to talk and was full of himself, but she had also heard rumors about him, dangerous rumors that she had no interest in being involved in. He had pursued her relentlessly in the last several months and had said he would marry her before it was over. Never – she would never marry a man like him.
That night she could hear the music from the saloon, and it was extra loud. She wondered if Darren had found someone else to go to the dance with him.
Fern had determined that she would never go anywhere near alcohol or a saloon in her life. She had seen how it had destroyed her father, keeping him constantly under its influence, and she wanted to stay as far away from it as possible.
Eventually, her eyes became so heavy with sleep that even the obnoxious sound of the piano, accordion, and drunken singing couldn’t keep her awake, and she slipped into darkness.
---*- --
Fern knocked on the hard, wooden door again. It was odd that the Withers had left it bolted when they knew she was coming. Usually one of the children would be waiting to open it for her, but today, she’d been standing outside for nearly fifteen minutes.
Finally, the door opened a crack, and Mrs. Withers looked out at her with a guarded expression.
Fern stood confused as to why she hadn’t been ushered in. Usually Mrs. Withers was always in a hurry to have her take over as soon as she appeared.
“Is everything all right?” Fern already knew the answer to the question. What she didn’t know, was what was wrong.
“Actually, Fern, I’m sorry. You have been wonderful, you really have, but we’re going to have to let you go.” Mrs. Withers avoided Fern’s gaze and fidgeted with the door.
“I don’t understand. You don’t need the help anymore? If it’s the pay maybe I can…”
“No, no, no,” Mrs. Withers interrupted, “it’s not that. I just don’t think that you’re the right fit for our family anymore.” Mrs. Withers voice sounded strange.
Fern shifted the large basket of the Withers laundry she was carrying to her other arm.
“Okay. Well, here’s your wash.” She tried to keep her voice calm. She could find another job. She would have to. She needed the money for food every week, and she was trying her best to save a bit for her future. She set the basket on the porch and stood uncertainly looking at Mrs. Withers for a moment more.
“I’m sorry, Fern. I really am.” Mrs. Withers voice wavered a bit.
Fern nodded and started down the steps.
“Fern?” Mrs. Withers caused Fern to pause and look over her shoulder.
“Yes?” She hoped that Mrs. Withers couldn’t see the tears in her eyes.
“You should watch the company you keep.” The warning was soft but cold at the same time, and after it, the door closed with a finality that made
Fern start a little.
What does she mean? Fern thought, rummaging through her brain for any possible acquaintance she had kept that was inappropriate. But none came to mind.
Two young women were walking down the street nearby, and when they saw Fern, they turned to each other and giggled. They whispered something and laughed again before continuing on their way. They avoided eye contact when she looked at them and stopped in the path.
Suddenly, it seemed as if Fern noticed every detail around her. A horse passed by, and she listened to the uneven sound of its hooves pounding the dusty ground. Maybe one of its shoes needed fixing.
She wasn’t sure what was wrong, but she felt as if eyes from everywhere around her were staring into her, looking at something that she hadn’t become aware of yet.
Another group of women were coming from the opposite direction, and when they saw Fern, they moved themselves to the other side of the street.
“Can you believe it?” one said in a hushed voice.
“Well it must be true. Why would he lie?” another woman added.
Despite their poor attempts to cover their mouths and speak quietly, Fern heard them as clear as day. What she couldn’t figure out was what they could possibly be talking about.
With every passing encounter, Fern ducked her head a little lower and made her feet move a little faster. She couldn’t wait to get off the street and into the quiet sanctuary of the parlor of her house.
Footsteps approached from behind. “Fern, I heard about your little adventure. Ain’t it spectacular how the most uptight girls always fall in the end?”
Fern’s head whipped around to face her accuser.
He was a tall young man, two heads taller than her with broad shoulders and a cocky grin that stretched across his pale face. He loomed over her, a mocking smirk in place.
Fern took a step back and tried to keep her breathing even. You can figure this out. It’s just a misunderstanding she tried to reassure herself.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Fern crossed her arms over her waist, trying to put more distance between her and the boy.
She knew him. He had tried to convince her to court him a few months before. She had turned him down due not only to his reputation, but due to the fact that she just had absolutely no desire to get to know him better.
“Oh, come on Fern. You may be playing innocent, but Darren has told most everyone in town about it by now. He’s quite proud of being the one to finally get you to give in.” Cain pulled his shoulders back a little and gave a harsh laugh.
Fern backed up a little and stared at him. He was a madman.
He continued to taunt her without a pause. “What did he do to lure you?” He got even closer, and Fern could smell the whiskey on his breath. “I heard that you are quite creative too,” he crooned. “Maybe I would like a turn too,” he added suggestively as he tried to touch her face.
“I should go.” Not waiting for a response, Fern pulled away from Cain and ran the rest of the way home. As she shakily fled into the empty parlor, she realized that she had tears running down her face and she was shaking.
Darren had carried through with his threat. She didn’t know how or what he had done, but whatever it was, she knew that it was just the beginning.
---*---
The sound of the front door being opened made Fern wake up with a start. She didn’t know how, but she had dozed off while sitting against her bedroom wall. For a moment, everything seemed normal, and then the events of the day came rushing back.
“Fern, where are you?” Her father’s voice shook through the house, and she heard his fist thud on the table so hard the glassware rattled.
Fern fumbled to stand up and brush back her hair. She rushed to the mirror and looked in it to see how bad her face was. One could definitely tell that she had been crying. Her heart pounded in fear, but there was nowhere to go but downstairs to face her father.
“I’m here,” she answered in a tremulous voice. She stepped from her room, smoothing down her skirt.
Her heart sank as she caught sight of her father’s face. It was nearly purple in anger, and his eyes looked as if they couldn’t get any bigger.
“You’ve gone and done it this time, haven’t you?” he yelled. I warned you against this very thing, and you just went out there and jumped into bed with the first boy you could find!”
“What are you talking about?” Fern walked past him into the kitchen feigning confidence.
“Don’t you walk away from me young lady, and don’t act as if I’m a fool. I heard about your little escapade. It seems everyone has. It’s all over town!” Her father slammed a clenched fist down onto the table.
Fern jumped in surprise. It was one of the rare times that her father’s anger was genuine and couldn’t be blamed on a bottle of whiskey.
“What escapade? What is everyone talking about? All day everyone’s been looking at me and treating me like I’m a… a…”
“Tramp; that’s what they’ve been looking at you like, and they’re right. You know, you did enough damage being born, but this? Ruining the last little bit of a reputation I might have had in this town? I won’t have it!”
Ferns mouth opened and closed at the terrible word her father had used to describe her. “I have done nothing wrong.” Fern whipped around to face her father. She was so tired of the accusations; the demeaning way people were talking to her and the way they were looking at her.
“You saying Darren is a liar? And even if he was, all of his friends are too? Because his friends all say they saw you with him going into a hotel after the party last night at the saloon.”
Fern tried to catch her breath and stop her hands from shaking. So, he had indeed followed through with his threat, and it was worse than she imagined.
“I swear I didn’t do anything with Darren. I refused to go, and he said I would be sorry. I came home, and I was here in the house the entire time,” Fern said throwing up her hands in frustration.
“Well, I’ve fixed your mess, like I always do,” her father lowered his tone a little and heaved out a sigh.
“What do you mean?” Fern’s question was soft, barely there. How could he have possibly fixed the mess?
“I’ve talked with Darren, and he’s willing to marry you,” her father said sitting down on one of the chairs by the table.
“What?” Fern gasped.
“He’s willing to marry you. You’ll be eighteen in two months. You will marry him then, but as far as you’re concerned, you’re engaged now so act like it. You couldn’t wait until you were married, but now that it is done, you are his,” her father growled impatiently, shooting her a menacing glare that dared her to question his words.
“No.” The word came from her mouth so quickly she didn’t have time to think about it. Fern’s eyes widened as she realized what she had just said.
“You dare say no to me? You think you can do what you please and there won’t be consequences?” Her father’s shoulders were now shaking in fury. “You listen to me; you will marry Darren and put the town’s rumors to rest, and I will not be seen as the man with a good for nothing daughter pleasuring the men of the town.”
Her father stood from his chair and jabbed his finger at her with every few words. As he stepped closer, she cowered in fear, and her eyes bored a hole in the wood floor memorizing the pattern of the wood there.
A Treasure Brought by Fate: A Historical Western Romance Book Page 31
