by Ava Winters
“You will listen, and you will do as I say,” Jacob insisted. Layla trembled at the malice she saw in his eyes. “Me and the boys rob those old boys down at the mine, then we make ‘em pay us to protect them from the bandits that are robbin’ them,” he chuckled. “We’re makin’ so much. Those boys wanna protect their gold more than their lives, and they’ll pay as much as we want to see that they keep it.”
Layla’s lips trembled as she attempted to speak. “I should’ve known,” she said softly. “I should’ve known you were lying all along.”
“Not all along,” Jacob stated. “I tried to do it right. I was tryin’ for you. Then I realized that no matter what I did, it wasn’t gonna be enough, so I decided to do what I do best. If you wanted a better life, then I’d give it to you. I’d buy you the clothes, and the house, and anythin’ you wanted. It wasn’t enough, though.” He squeezed her hands tighter. “It’s never enough for you.”
Layla swallowed her fear. “Let me go, Jacob.”
He stared at her coldly, but he released her hands. Layla yanked them away. Jacob leaned closer and Layla turned her head from him.
“Now you know the truth, but yah can’t tell. If yah do, everyone will know about us and our past, and all the terrible things I did before. Now that you know, you’re just as guilty as me, Layla. That sheriff of yours will surely turn his back on yah. The whole town will—includin’ that old woman yah live with,” he whispered. “You’ll be alone, Layla. All alone.”
Layla fought the tears in her eyes as she listened to Jacob speak, but she refused to cry in front of him. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“Yah don’t have to be alone, Layla,” Jacob continued. “Yah could still be happy with me. No one would have to know the truth. No one would have to know our secret. We could start over and make things how they should be. All yah have to do is say the word and it’s done. Tell that sheriff to back off, come back to me the right way and, once I get a little more gold, we can leave this town and find another. It could be perfect, Layla. Just perfect.”
She remained quiet as Jacob rose from the bed and walked toward the door. She kept her back to him and listened as his footsteps faded down the hall. When she was sure he was gone, she jumped from her bed and shut the door, then grabbed the chair from the corner and propped it behind the handle.
Her heart was racing, her nerves were raw and fear, filled every fiber of her body. He’d come into her house. He’d been in her room. Was there nothing that Jacob wouldn’t do?
Layla crouched on the floor beside her door as tears streamed down her face. He wasn’t going to stop. He wasn’t going to leave her alone. He’d always be there. It would never end.
She stayed on the floor until she heard the sound of Annabelle returning. Annabelle called Layla’s name and, quickly, she got to her feet and removed the chair from the door. She hopped into bed, not wanting to tell Annabelle what had happened. It would only frighten the older woman. Worse, it might make her want to tell Peter about everything, and Layla couldn’t let that happen. Peter could never know. She wasn’t ready to let him go yet. She wasn’t ready to give up her dream, even if she knew she would eventually have to.
Layla kept her back to the door as she heard Annabelle approach. The older woman knocked on the door. “Layla, may I come in?”
“Yes,” she answered softly, wiping her cheeks to try to hide any signs of her tears.
Annabelle came over to the bed and sat beside her. Layla turned to face her. “Child, you’ve been cryin’ again,” Annabelle noted as she gently touched Layla’s cheek.
“No, I haven’t,” Layla lied.
“Your red eyes say otherwise,” Annabelle replied. The older woman took her hand and patted her knuckles gently. “You can’t let this get to you child,” she said. “You can’t let that man take what you’ve earned. You built this life. You worked hard and proved yerself here. He doesn’t get to come in and take it from yah.”
Layla looked at Annabelle as pain tore at her heart. She couldn’t tell the woman what had happened only hours before. She couldn’t tell her the truth. She loved Annabelle like the mother she’d never had, and she wasn’t going to hurt her or frighten her. Layla wanted to believe her words, but she knew better. Annabelle didn’t know Jacob. She didn’t know the man like Layla did, and Layla prayed she never would.
Annabelle placed a gentle hand on her cheek. “You were missed at church,” she said with a smile. “Peter was askin’ for yah.”
“Was he?” Layla asked.
Annabelle nodded. “He wanted to come to see yah, but I told him it was better that he didn’t. I said yah weren’t feelin’ well.”
“Thank you, Miss Annabelle,” she said. “I’m sorry you had to lie for me.”
“Child, it wasn’t a bending of the truth. It didn’t hurt nobody. Besides, I didn’t think you’d want Peter seeing yah in such a condition. He’d have questions—questions I know yah don’t wanna answer right now.”
Layla nodded. “Thank you for understanding.”
Annabelle sighed. “We all have secrets at some point. Some are worse than others, but we all have ‘em. I know it seems right to yah now to hold everthin’ in, but I’m tellin’ yah, the truth is what will set things right.”
Layla sat up immediately. “I can’t, Miss Annabelle. You know I can’t.”
“Layla, hidin’ the truth won’t make it better. As long as yer hidin’ everythin’, Jacob will still have somethin’ on yah. He won’t let go until you let go and let the truth be known.”
“Even if it means losing Peter?” Layla looked at the older woman in alarm.
“Even that,” Annabelle replied.
Layla shook her head. “Miss Annabelle, you don’t know how things have changed between me and Peter.” She could feel her emotions beginning to bubble up inside her. “He kissed me, Miss Annabelle. He told me loves me.”
“Oh, sweetheart, that’s wonderful,” Annabelle said with a smile. “I was wonderin’ how long it would take you two to get there.” She sighed. “Still, it can never go any further that a confession until Jacob is out of yer life. Yah know that. He’s still yer husband, and will be until yah do somethin’ about it.”
“I know,” Layla replied. “But I’m afraid,” she admitted. “I’m afraid that once Peter knows the truth, it will all be over. He’d leave me. He wouldn’t love me anymore. I’d be alone.”
“Hush,” Annabelle chided. “Don’t yah have me?”
Layla looked at her meekly.
“Young lady, you will never be alone again in yer life, not as long as I’m alive,” she asserted. “I love yah like my own daughter. No good mother turns her back on her own child, no matter how much trouble they find themselves in.”
Layla smiled at her weakly and Annabelle smiled back.
“Yah might be a bind now, but it won’t be forever, and I won’t let yah go through it alone. I’m right here. I’m gonna stay right here as long as yah need me to.” Annabelle pulled Layla into a tight hug. “We’re gonna get through this, Layla. Yah just wait and see. We’ll get through this.”
Layla hugged Annabelle tightly. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to bask in the comfort the older woman offered. Annabelle was warm and loving—everything Layla wanted as a child, but only experienced now in her adult years. She was thankful regardless. She needed this. She needed someone to love her despite her mistakes. She needed someone to understand and not judge. She realized she needed Annabelle as much as she wanted Peter.
“Miss Annabelle,” Layla started as she sat back. “I love you.”
The older woman smiled. “I love you, too, child. Now, come on outta that bed and get yourself somethin’ to eat. I left breakfast on the stove in case you came down for somethin’, but I can tell yah haven’t left this bed all day.” Annabelle got to her feet. “You wash up and I’ll get yer food on the table. Alright?”
Layla smiled. “Alright, Miss Annabelle.”
She watched A
nnabelle as she left the room before she got up to get herself washed and dressed. Layla shut the door and moved to the dresser to fill the basin with water. It was cold, but Layla didn’t mind. She liked it that way. Several minutes later, she was washed, dressed, and ready to face the day, despite her continued reluctance and the ever-looming threat from Jacob.
As Layla walked through the house, the smell of Annabelle’s cooking filled the air, and drawing her to it like a bloodhound. She entered the kitchen to find the older woman sitting at the table, waiting for her.
“Sit down,” Annabelle encouraged with a smile. She had a cup of tea in front of her and sipped from it slowly.
Layla obeyed gladly and sat at the seat Annabelle had left for her. She smiled at the large helping of pancakes, fried ham, eggs, and buttermilk biscuits.
“Miss Annabelle, you did all this? It’s enough to feed an army,” she mused.
Annabelle sipped her tea. “I’ll be honest. I was hopin’ to have some company for breakfast if you were up to it, but after I saw yah this mornin’ I knew it wasn’t a good idea so I put it out of my mind.”
Layla looked at Annabelle as she bit into the biscuit. “You were expecting company?”
“Peter,” Annabelle explained. “I thought he might cheer you up, but I realized that wasn’t gonna work. It’s alright, though. Plenty of food to last us a couple of days,” she said with a smile.
“Yes,” Layla replied as she focused her attention on her food. The ham was delicious, salty and a little sweet from the syrup Annabelle had poured over it.
Bite by bite, Layla consumed the wonderful meal while trying not to think about her predicament. How was she going to deal with this? Was Annabelle right? Should she tell Peter everything?
No! You can’t. He’ll never understand. He’s a sheriff. He puts people like Jacob behind bars. People like you.
Layla choked down her pancakes, her throat suddenly dry. “Miss Annabelle, may I have some of that tea?” she asked.
“Of course. I’m sorry, I completely forget to give yah somethin’ to drink,” the older woman apologized. She got up from the table and moved to the stove where the teapot was sitting on top of the still-warm burner. She poured a cup for Layla. “Would yah like honey or sugar?”
“Sugar, please,” Layla answered as she continued trying to swallow her food. The taste was diminishing the more she thought about Jacob and Peter.
Annabelle returned with the tea and Layla eagerly took it from her. She sipped it carefully, the warm liquid warming her up inside and soothing her simultaneously.
She ate her breakfast as Annabelle kept her company. The two women chatted, and slowly, Layla began to feel better. Annabelle had a way of saying things that made them seem less frightening and overwhelming than they had been. Still, Layla wasn’t sure Annabelle’s advice could help her in her situation. But she listened anyway. It was good to have someone try to guide her, and Layla appreciated it.
“Do yah feel better?” Annabelle asked as the conversation drew to a close.
Layla nodded. “Yes. Thank you, Miss Annabelle.”
“I know I can’t solve all yer problems, but I hope to be able to help yah sort through everythin’ so you can find a solution fer yerself.”
Layla smiled again. “Yes, Miss Annabelle.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Something was wrong. Peter could tell. He just didn’t know what. In the past few days, Layla had begun to act strangely. Her smile was gone. Yes, she greeted the patrons and interacted with the other staff, but there was something missing in the smiles she gave. They didn’t reach her eyes. They appeared on her lips, but the feeling wasn’t there. Something had happened, and Peter was sure it had something to do with Jacob McCarthy.
Peter wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure he should. While Layla could handle her own affairs, it didn’t stop the need he had to intervene and protect.
“What’s eating you, Peter?” Bill asked from beside him at the table.
“Something’s going on with Layla,” Peter replied.
“Jacob?” Bill asked as he cut his roasted chicken and stuffed it into his mouth.
Peter shook his head. “I think so, but I have no proof.”
Bill chewed his food as he looked at his friend. “Why don’t you just ask?” he said through a mouthful of food. “I’m sure she’d tell you, what with everything that’s been said between you two.”
“I don’t know. Layla wants to stand on her own two feet. I just don’t know if it’s my place to try to intervene, or whether I should let her do this on her own.”
“I think you should find out,” Bill replied. “We both know that McCarthy character is a problem.”
“If that was it, then why hasn’t she told me about it already? I told her I’d protect her from him.”
“Yes, I’m sure you did, but you did say that she wants to try to handle things on her own. It might be a case of her trying to do it all herself.”
Peter considered the idea. Maybe that was the case. Maybe Layla was harboring some deep problem she was trying to solve herself. If that was the case, he would have to do something to help her, whether she wanted it or not.
“Bill, will you excuse me for a minute?” Peter said.
Bill grinned. “I thought as much.”
Peter walked across the room and sat himself down at the bar in front of Layla. “Layla,” he greeted with a smile.
“Hi, Peter,” she replied. Once again, her smile didn’t reach her eyes. It stung. Not even his presence seemed to improve her mood.
“Do you have plans this evening?” Peter asked hopefully.
“I don’t have any plans,” she told him.
Peter could tell there was something weighing on her. Whatever it was, it was greater than anything that he had seen her go through before. Her entire mood was different. Before, no matter what was happening, she could smile her way through. Now, she didn’t seem to have that strength.
“Would you like to have a late supper with me?” Peter asked.
Layla paused, and for the first time, met his eye. She didn’t respond immediately and Peter could see that there was conflict in her eyes. Still, he held his tongue and hoped, leaving it up to Layla to decide.
Finally, she smiled. “I’d love that,” she said, as the smile touched the corners of her eyes.
“Good,” Peter replied. “Then I will come to meet you after closing,” he stated. “I’ll let you get back to work now.” He smiled at her. “You look really pretty today.”
Layla blushed. “Thank you. You look good, too.”
Peter forced himself to leave the bar, but everything inside of him wanted to go back and sit with Layla, to get her to talk and find out what was troubling her.
He returned to his seat at the table with Bill.
“Everything settled?” Bill asked.
“Not yet, but it will be,” Peter assured him.
Bill nodded. “Are you sure you aren’t hungry? This chicken is very good. It’s very tender and juicy.”
“No, I’m fine. I have supper plans for later tonight,” he replied. He turned to Bill with a smile. “Layla will be joining me.”
Bill smiled. “That explains everything. Your loss. You should at least take some home to eat tomorrow,” he continued. “This is too good not to try.”
Peter chuckled. “Next time.”
He lingered at the saloon for half an hour more before he went home. If he was having Layla over for dinner, he needed to get to work making something for them to eat.
His house was small compared to many of the others in Richstone. It was just him at home and he didn’t see the need for a bigger house, though with the presence of Layla and the hope of having her in his life for good, he was thinking that he needed to add to it. There was no entryway. He opened the door and walked into his living room, where there was a couch and two single chairs, but very little else. The back of the room, near the kitchen, was the dining room that
consisted of a small table with four chairs.
As Peter looked at his home, for the first time, he thought it was inadequate. Did he really expect to bring Layla into a house like this? He took a deep breath and proceeded inside.
Peter wasn’t the best cook, but he could handle himself. He went to the cooler and pulled out some vegetables, potatoes, and leftover ham and bacon. He found some biscuits in there as well that Annabelle had brought for him. They were the perfect addition to finish off the meal. It wasn’t spectacular, but the invitation had been impromptu and Peter didn’t have the time to plan properly.
