by Ava Winters
“I agree,” Bill put in. “Something doesn’t feel right about it all.”
Peter turned back to the window to see the wagon pull away. Layla’s body lurched and her braid flapped against her back. He saw her head turn ever so slightly in his direction. He wanted her to look back at him.
Look at me, Layla. Turn back and look at me.
She hovered in place as if deciding, then she turned to the window with a sad expression. Lucy raised a hand and waved. Layla did the same. It was a small, pitiful wave that made Peter’s heart burn. She was waving goodbye. She wasn’t stopping. She was truly leaving him.
He tightened his hands into fists beneath the table as he watched her go. He refused to wave goodbye. He had some pride and, right now, it was aching with the love he had for her and the rejection he felt at her hands.
Lucy lingered for a few seconds longer until the wagon was out of sight before she turned back to her work. She let out a long sigh as she left the table, and Peter felt her sadness and disappointment. She wanted Layla to stay, too.
Bill shook his head. “I still can’t believe you let her walk outta here,” he commented. He got to his feet and Peter followed him.
“I let her have what she wanted, Bill.”
“I hope you can tell yourself that at night when you’re alone thinking about her,” he replied. “I hope that comforts you, because I know I won’t be able to. You’re gonna regret letting her leave like this.”
“No, I won’t,” Peter replied quickly.
“Yes, you will,” Bill maintained. “You will regret that you didn’t fight this time, that you didn’t push. I know you needed a sign from her, but maybe there was some reason she couldn’t give it.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I just know that we both feel the same thing, and we’ve been doing this thing for too long not to trust our instincts. Something was wrong here today, and we let a girl leave this town not knowing why she was doing it or finding out what the problem was. In my mind, that’s cause for regret.” He hobbled from the table and walked behind Peter. “I hope one day we won’t get news that will make us even more regretful that we didn’t stop her.”
Peter turned as Bill walked away from him. His heart was racing and his legs wanted him to run after Layla, but his pride wouldn’t allow it. She had made her choice, and whatever reason she had for making it was no longer his concern. She had walked away. He was right there—she could’ve come to him, but she didn’t.
He grabbed his glass of water from the table and drank it down in one gulp, then smacked it back on the tabletop. He had work to do. He had a bunch of applications for the position of deputy and they weren’t going to go anywhere until he started looking them over.
“Lucy, I’ll be back later to close up. Will you be alright here on your own?” he asked as he strode across the floor. It wasn’t a busy day, but still, he wanted to be sure everything would be alright.
“We’ll be fine here, Peter, you get back to work. If anything happens I’ll have someone call you, alright?”
He nodded. “Alright.”
Peter’s eyes lingered on the tracks the wagon had left outside the saloon. He followed them to where Layla and Jacob’s men had left town. He took a long breath.
I hope you’ll be safe, Layla. I really hope you’ll be happy with the choice you made.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It was torture for her, but Layla did what Jacob demanded. She packed her belongings and brought them to the saloon, but that wasn’t enough for Jacob. He wanted to rub it in Peter’s face that she was leaving with him instead of staying in Richstone. He made her help them unpack the wagon and repack it, just for the sake of making Peter watch. She could barely look at him, knowing what it must have been doing to him to see her leave.
I pray you will never know the truth, Peter. I love you too much.
She was silent as they rode out of town. She looked back, but the longer she did, the more painful it was. Tears rolled down her cheeks as they left the town’s perimeter and headed out onto the plain. She had no idea where they were going—Jacob wouldn’t tell her—but wherever it was, she knew it would be nothing like the happy place she had just left.
“Don’t cry,” Jacob said with a smirk. “You’ll see this is the much better choice, in time,” he assured her as he brought his horse alongside the wagon.
“I assure you, Jacob, that no place with you will ever be better than Richstone,” she countered.
“You say that now, but wait until you see what we have in mind. The boys and I have big plans, Layla, real big plans—and I know once you see it, everything will be worth it. You’ll see that what you can have with me is so much more than what that sheriff could offer.”
Layla’s eyes snapped to Jacob’s face. She was sure he could see the loathing in her eyes as she looked at him. “I don’t care if it is the biggest house with the biggest yard and the most luxurious furnishings this world has ever seen—with you, it’s the same as an empty, dirty shack in the middle of nowhere. The problem isn’t the location, Jacob. It’s you.”
Her husband pursed his lips in anger, but she wasn’t scared. He had done his worst to her. He’d forced her to leave. There was nothing to hold her back now, no fear of discovery or hurting or disappointing those she cared about. He wanted her, he had her—and all the hate she had for him.
“I’d watch your mouth—”
“I’d watch yours,” she interrupted. “The little girl I used to be is no more, and I hate you from the bottom of my heart.”
She looked at his friends. They were listening, but they were acting like they weren’t. They couldn’t help but hear what they were saying, Jacob was making no secret of it, and neither was she. They just knew better than to say something. She didn’t care anymore. If he hit her, hurt her, what did it matter? She would still hate him. She no longer feared him, and that was all.
“I’m tryin’ to be nice here,” Jacob continued. “You just want to push me.”
“You pushed first, Jacob. You made me come. I didn’t want to. They know it and so do you, but you just didn’t want to let go of me. Even though I don’t want anything to do with you, or them, or your way of life, you insist on keeping me a prisoner.”
“You’re my wife, not a prisoner,” Jacob growled.
“It's the same thing with you,” Layla retorted. She shook her head. “Either way, I don’t want to be here, and you know it.”
Jacob glared at her. She might regret her words later, but for the moment, they felt good to say. He thought he could bully her forever, but that was a long time. Layla had made the only choice she had to in order to protect Peter’s reputation and her own. Now, she didn’t care. Whatever her choice got her, she deserved.
I won’t live meek and scared, anymore. If I have to be here I will, but I will make sure every day that he knows just how much I don’t want to be here. He’ll know I hate him. I won’t let him forget it.
Layla turned her eyes back to the horizon. Jacob continued to ride beside them and for a long time, she felt his eyes on her, but she refused to look around. She was not giving Jacob McCarthy the pleasure of her attention. She was done being controlled by him. She had given up so much, and this was the last straw. She would give up no more.
She sat stoically as their small band travelled to places unknown. Layla didn’t care to ask Jacob where they were going; his response was the same and she was tired of vague allusions. She wanted answers, and if they were not to be forthcoming, then she didn't need to speak to him.
They travelled on until late in the night, when Jacob finally decided to make camp. Despite the darkness, the men did their best to erect the tents for them to spend the night in. Layla, of course, was left to prepare them a meal. She did so begrudgingly.
It was a simple meal of sausages, day-old bread Layla had taken from Annabelle’s, and some slices of ham. Gary produced a can of beans and Layla added it to the menu.
Once she’d finished preparing the food, they sat around the fire and ate in silence. The men could feel the tension, she was sure. Layla did not attempt to hide her displeasure. Again, she felt Jacob watching her, and again, she refused to acknowledge him.
“It’s time to get to bed, fellas,” he declared sometime after dinner was over. Layla glanced in the direction of Gary and the others. They looked to each other tentatively before doing as Jacob commanded and making their ways to their tents. Layla remained where she was. Jacob did also.
Stay away from me.
Layla sat motionlessly, staring at the flames before her. She would have given anything to be back in her warm, safe bed in Richstone, but there was no chance of that. She’d left home and was now on her own. There was no one to help her or comfort her. She was going to have to make do for herself.
She saw a small movement to her right and flinched. Jacob was coming over to her. She braced herself for the intrusion.
Jacob sat beside her on the remnants of a log she was using as a bench. Layla moved over so he wouldn’t touch her.
“Is that any way to greet me?” Jacob asked.
Layla ignored him.
He grabbed her face roughly. “Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you,” he growled.
Layla slapped his hand away, hard. “Don’t you touch me!”
Anger glinted in Jacob’s eyes as he once again grabbed her face. This time, he tried to kiss her.
Layla pushed and scratched with all of her might as Jacob attempted to force a kiss from her. Finally, she caught him across the cheek with her nails and left a mark. He howled in pain.
“I said, don’t touch me!” she seethed. “You never touch me again.” Layla got to her feet and looked at her husband venomously. “I was scared of you before, but not now. I’ll fight you. You will never lay a hand to hurt me again. Unless, of course, you want your boys to know what a big man you are, hitting a woman.”
Jacob stood before her with clenched fists. Layla’s eyes gave them a cursory glance, but she kept her focus on his face. If he moved, she’d run. He would not hurt her. He would never hurt her again.
“You are my wife!” Jacob hissed.
“I will never be a wife to you,” Layla retorted. “Never.”
He stepped toward her, and Layla stepped back. “All this for that sheriff?”
“Yes!” Layla spat. “And for me. I want nothing to do with you, Jacob, but you just don’t seem to understand that. I only left town with you for Peter’s sake, because I didn’t want to hurt him or tarnish his reputation. It had nothing to do with you. I told you already. I hate you to the core of me, and that will never change. The longer I am with you, the more I’ll hate you. I promise you that.”
Jacob stepped closer and, this time, Layla didn’t move.
“I can make this time really nice or really terrible for you. It’s up to you. Which will it be?”
“Whatever makes you as unhappy as I am,” Layla replied. She hid the tremble that raged inside her. She knew Jacob meant what he said, but she couldn’t show fear. He’d eat her alive if she did. No, she had to keep up the appearance of strength and bravery—those were things he understood and respected.
If he doesn’t leave me alone, then I’ll run away. I’ll run away anyhow, as soon as I get the chance.
Layla and Jacob’s eyes burned into one another’s. They were both determined to keep their word. He would make her life miserable, and she would hate him more each day. She wouldn’t give up. She would stay the course until she had the opportunity to get away. She wasn’t going to spend the rest of her life as his captive—that’s what she felt like. She had learned one very important thing in Richstone: she was stronger than she had ever imagined.
She had arrived in Richstone with the hope of something more and she’d made it happen with the help of others, but also due to her own tenacity. She could make it on her own. She didn’t need Jacob, not his protection or his money. He had nothing she wanted and he was nothing she needed anymore.
“You can sleep with Gary or one of the other boys. I’m taking this tent,” she declared boldly.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, that’s so,” she stated emphatically. “I’m not sleeping anywhere with you.” She glared at him, daring him to challenge her on her choice.
Jacob scoffed. “Have it your way,” he said, finally. “I hope the snakes don’t bite,” he added as he turned his back to her.
“The only snake I’m worried about is you,” she replied as she watched him go. Jacob hesitated outside Gary’s tent, then looked at her coldly before disappearing inside.
She gazed up at the sky. It was so dark that it looked black, but the stars dotted it so profusely that it felt like a twinkling blanket above her head. The air was still and the night was cool. Layla rubbed her hands along her arms to warm her skin. She held herself close. It was so beautiful.
“I wonder if it looks so beautiful in Richstone,” she wondered aloud. It was the perfect sky to walk under with the person you loved. Layla couldn’t help but think about Peter as she stared at it. She thought of when he’d walked her home, and the way she’d felt as he was with her. He made her feel so good. He made her feel so loved. She only wished she could have loved him the way he deserved.
I hope one day someone will love you that way, Peter. Someone who will love you as I loved you.
She took a deep breath. She really did hope that someone would love Peter, and soon. He deserved to be loved. He was the most wonderful man she had ever met. She doubted she would ever meet another man like him.
Layla didn’t go to bed right away. She knew better than to let her guard down so easily. Instead, she stayed up for more than an hour in order to be sure that everyone else was asleep before she dared to close her own eyes. It was only when she could no longer keep them open that she finally retreated under the cover of her tent.
The tent was small, barely able to hold two people. Layla was thankful she’d insisted that Jacob sleep with Gary. There would be no way to get away from him in a space so small, and the last thing she wanted was to be fighting off his grabbing hands while she was trying to sleep.
She lay on the blanket and stared for a long time. She thought of Annabelle. Was she missing Layla? Were Annabelle’s hands hurting her now? Did she need help? Who would be there for her, now that Layla was gone? What about Peter? Would he ever forgive what she’d said to him? Would he forgive her for leaving?
There were a thousand questions in her mind, but Layla didn’t feel as if she deserved an answer to any of them. She’d made the choice to leave the people she cared about. She had no right to worry about them now.
They probably won’t even miss me. It’s probably better that they don’t.
Layla curled onto her side as tears began to roll down her cheek. She had no idea where she would end up when she finally left Jacob for good, but wherever she did, she would be sure never to allow her heart to get involved.
I’ll keep to myself. I’ll stay away from everyone. I won’t make connections. I won’t hurt anyone, that way, and no one will be able to hurt me. I can do without love. The memory of Peter’s love will be enough for me. I will live off of the memory. I’ve never had such good memories.
Layla smiled to herself. She could see Peter’s face before her, smiling at her with that big grin. Tears stung her eyes even more. She would never see that face again. She would never see that smile in anything but her dreams. No other smile would do.
“I don’t want anyone else,” she whispered to herself. “Only him.”
She curled into a ball as she watched the entrance of the tent until her eyes grew heavier. She had to sleep. She couldn’t resist any longer.
Maybe I’ll dream about him.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to listen to the gentle breeze as it began to blow outside. It was an easy, gentle wind that made the entrance of the tent flap slightly. It was an almost lulling sound to Layla’s ears, and
it wasn’t long before she succumbed to its serenade. Her last thoughts as she allowed sleep to take her were a prayer that Jacob would stay put and leave her alone, and that tomorrow, she would still have the strength to face him again.
I need to stay strong. I need to hold out until I can get away. I need to keep my eyes alert for my chance. When the time comes, I can’t hesitate.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Twenty-four hours had passed since Layla had left Richstone, and during that time, Peter hadn’t been able to focus on anything. His search for a new deputy was delayed by his inability to get through a single application. All he could think about was the look on Layla’s face as she rode out of town.
He sat at his desk, completely frustrated with himself. He had things to do and a town to protect; he shouldn’t be allowing himself to be so distracted, but he couldn’t help it. Layla was the only person on his mind. He wanted to know where she was and if she was all right.
