by Ciara Knight
The sound of horses neighing urged Elizabeth to fix her hair, straighten her hat, shove her old dress into the bag, and head for the door. “Thank you for all your help, Cindy. I hope to visit you again someday. I admit, I’m a little lost on fashion without my sisters.”
She smiled, her yellow, busted teeth glimmering in a happy way that made her face brighten. Her facial wrinkles deepened, and her dark, freckled skin tightened around her sallow cheeks. “It was my pleasure. Now shoo.”
Elizabeth hurried outside to face the man who’d tried to kick her out of her seat. She might be kindhearted, but she wasn’t a pushover. If it was a person trying to get home to a sick family member, she’d give up her seat, but she had no room for a self-important, rude man. She sashayed out the door with as much aristocratic flare as she could stomach.
Billy pointed at her. “Here she is, but you still don’t have a seat. There isn’t room.”
A man that had to be none other than the loud-mouthed Jeb Clayton stepped from around the back of the stagecoach. He was built like a farmhand with a broad chest, massive arms, and thin waist, but she couldn’t see his face with the oversized hat on his head. The rest of the other folks who had ridden all these days together eyed him with weary gazes. “Then I will pay for someone to remain at the inn until the next stagecoach comes through. Make it a holiday.” He turned to the waiting patrons, but none of them stepped forward. The Inn was all that was around. It was a stagecoach stop with nothing but a couple of old abandoned buildings around.
No takers.
He marched toward Elizabeth with a command she wasn’t used to after living with all women for so long. “Fine, I’ll pay you to give me your seat. You’re obviously in no hurry.”
Elizabeth suppressed an unladylike grumble. A man like this wouldn’t respond to civil conversation, so she needed to be firm. “No.”
Clayton lifted his head high enough that the hat only shadowed the top half of his face. His strong, full lip curved into a smirk, but then tightened into a thick line.
Billy removed his hat and wiped his forehead with his bandana. “If someone wants to ride up with me, and you want to pay them to do so, I ain’t got a problem with that.”
How bad could it be up there? At least she’d be able to breathe with the open air, but the sun would damage her skin. Not that she’d ever cared about being cotton white like Dinah had. “I’ll do it if that man will stop hollering and complaining and let us be on our way.”
All gazes turned to her as if she’d just suggested that they should run the stagecoach off one of those snowcapped mountains she’d seen on her way here.
Clayton slouched, and that full bottom lip of his fell open.
“I’ll do it” William said. “The lady can’t sit up there in her fine dress and bake in the sun all afternoon,” His oversized beard covered his facial expression, giving no indication as to whether he wanted to ride up there or was only protecting Elizabeth.
William marched up to Clayton and held out his hand palm up. “Pay for my seat and we’ll head out.”
Clayton pulled out a stash of money, flipped a few bills free as if they weren’t any worthier than a bird feather. He shoved it at the man without even an exchange of pleasantry and boarded the stagecoach.
One of her new friends, Charles Herbert, held out a hand to his wife, Susan, to help her into the carriage, and then he assisted Elizabeth. She was forced to sit next to the grim-faced-egotistical-large-hat man, Jeb Clayton, who had claimed her seat. At least he removed his hat and placed it in his lap.
When everyone had loaded into the red-clothed seats there was little room to breathe. She’d been squished into the middle since Clayton had taken the window. She already missed William, at least his shoulders were half the size and allowed for some room in the small carriage.
Part of her long skirt had fallen on Clayton when she’d settled into her seat, and he shifted and shoved the material away. “Dress isn’t fit much for traveling.”
“We were just fine before a man who takes up two seats decided to strongarm a normal person out of the stagecoach.”
Susan pressed her knuckles to her lips, covering a smile. Her husband squeezed her hand in a tender way, but he didn’t bother covering his laugh. Instead, he let it out with gusto, filling the stagecoach with his chuckles.
“You obviously don’t know who I am,” Jeb Clayton announced as if he was president of the nation.
“No, and I don’t care to. Just because you have money doesn’t mean you are worth more than William, who has now given his seat up for you.”
“I paid him.”
“You bullied him.”
Brian McDaniel, the wannabe Texas businessman, cleared his throat. He wasn’t unattractive, and he was quiet, but he was not the man she was betrothed to waiting at the end of this bucking ride. “I think this is going to be the longest leg of our journey.”
In actuality, it was the shortest, but his meaning wasn’t lost.
“You say that as if money is a terrible thing. Yet you sit here in that expensive dress that was probably bought with your husband’s hard-earned money.”
Elizabeth wasn’t going to tell him that she wasn’t married yet, and she certainly wasn’t going to tell him that the fabric was an exchange for her cooking, or that her sister made the dress. The others on the stagecoach already knew the truth of her circumstance. They’d shared their hopes and dreams and fears on their journey from the train station to today. “Yes, well, he is well-off, so it doesn’t harm his pockets too badly. He says I’m worth it.” The words almost gagged her on the way out, but he didn’t need to know she didn’t even want the dress. It would be the last thing she’d ever wear if she had a choice.
Susan eyed her but didn’t expose her lies.
“Women, you’re all the same using your feminine ways to steal from a man, all under the guise of marriage.”
Elizabeth took a stuttered breath, the air in the closed-in space becoming even thinner. She willed the horses to start moving so a breeze would filter through. “You wouldn’t understand marriage.”
“I understand it, but it will be an arrangement, not a path to my demise.”
“An arrangement?” she asked.
McDaniel rubbed his temple as if the conversation was giving him a headache.
“Yes, I will marry a woman, she will provide me with sons, and I will keep her fed and clothed.” His gaze traveled the length of her dress. Clothed in reasonable garments, that is.”
“You don’t have to worry about marriage,” Elizabeth said in her sincerest tone.
He lifted a dark brow and tilted his head. His thick hair moved with freedom he couldn’t control around his eyes. “Why’s that?”
“Because you would never be able to woo a woman into the idea of marrying you. No woman would ever agree to such a proposal.”
“Ah, but one already has. I proposed an arrangement of such a nature and she has accepted. I’ll be keeping my life how it is with my men, but she will give me sons, and I will feed her and provide what she needs. You see, everyone has their price.”
The horses neighed, and the slap of the leather echoed before the stagecoach jolted forward.
“Sounds like the woman is desperate or deranged. Good luck with that.” Elizabeth closed her eyes to keep the dust away and to end the conversation.
“Desperate maybe, but if she is a woman of childbearing age with wide birthing hips, then she’ll be fine.”
Elizabeth’s eyes shot open, and she gasped almost too hard to recover with her lungs so tight. “Well, I never.”
“No, and I’d never accept.”
Heat flushed her face and neck. She fisted her hands and wanted to punch him in the nose like she had her brother when he’d called her a maggot face once, but that would be too unladylike in front of so many people. “I wasn’t asking. I’m already taken, and even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be interested in a man like you.”
He rested his head ba
ck against the red wall and placed his hat over his face. “You keep believing that.”
Chapter Two
Jeb closed his eyes, but he saw the woman at his side even when not looking at her. The red-haired firecracker was something. Not right for him, but definitely pretty enough to make a man forget his plans for the future. Only he wasn’t just any man. He wasn’t his father who could have his head turned and his pockets emptied by his weaknesses.
After an hour, he finally gave up on a few minutes of shut-eye and placed his hat in his lap. The carriage bounced and shimmied along the trail, sending passengers bumping into each other. The red-haired beauty next to him was fighting sleep, her full eyelashes fluttering with each bump. He wanted to wrap his arm around her and tuck her into his side before her neck ended up with knots in it, but he knew better. She’d probably sock him in the eye with one of those dainty little fists she had scrunched tight when he’d mentioned birthing hips.
Those tiny hips of hers wouldn’t be large enough to pass a baby. He’d seen it too many times with his heifers. Not that he was going to explain himself. If there was one thing his mama had taught him growing up, it was to never take time to elaborate or you’d appear weak. Give orders and expect them to be followed. Nothing less would do, and this had served him well over the years.
The woman sitting across from him, holding tight to her husband, watched him more than the scenery outside. The others in the carriage slept or stared at some interesting piece of lint on their knees. Not the woman at his side, though. Despite her losing battle with exhaustion, her breathing was labored, and her lips were tinged a slight blueish color.
By the time they had reached a few miles outside of town, the woman was wheezing, and her head was bopping. The woman across from him leaned over and patted her hand. “Elizabeth, you all right dear?”
“Mmhmm,” the woman named Elizabeth responded.
A few minutes later, her head rolled to the side and she slumped into him.
The woman across from him jolted forward and elbowed her husband. “Charles, something’s wrong with Elizabeth.”
Charles shook himself awake. “What’s wrong?”
Susan rolled Elizabeth’s head from Jeb’s shoulder and patted her cheeks. “Wake up, dear.” She smacked her harder. “Wake up.”
Adrenaline pumped through Jeb. If there was one thing he couldn’t witness, it was a woman in trouble. It did things to him he didn’t like.
Charles pounded on the wall behind him and the horses slowed.
“Elizabeth?” He turned to her and found her lips blue and her eyes rolled back in her head. His muscles tightened, his gut twisted.
The stagecoach rolled to a stop and the man on the end opened the door and everyone spilled out of the carriage. Jeb lifted Elizabeth and handed her off to the man that had been at her other side.
By the time Jeb reached the ground, Susan was on her knees at Elizabeth’s side, and everyone stood around, looking down at her gasping for air.
He found himself matching her breath for breath. “Anyone know what’s wrong?”
“No, she was fine the entire way here. Until you boarded the stagecoach,” Susan said with clipped speech.
Charles put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “I doubt it’s him, dear.”
She shot a sideways glance of disapproval at Jeb.
“What else? Anything else change at the stop? Perhaps she ate something that she had a problem with?”
“Dress.” Susan looked up at him. “Her dress. She changed it. Maybe the corset is too tight. We could—”
He didn’t waste any time. If there was one thing he’d learned raising cattle, time meant everything. The faster you worked, the better the outcome. He slid his knife from its holder, rolled Elizabeth onto her side, slid the knife carefully under the neck of the material, and sliced down. Then he cut the string and yanked the corset loose.
After a second, she gasped for air and coughed. He rolled her over and saw the color in her lips and face returning.
“You’ll be fine now.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles and found her skin softer than any horse mane he’d ever touched.
Jeb watched as Elizabeth’s green eyes blinked and focused on him. “What happened?”
Susan huffed behind him. “You are an animal.”
Jeb looked up at her. “What are you talking about? I saved her life. That stupid-looking, impractical dress nearly choked her to death.”
“My dress?” Elizabeth said in only a whisper. She blinked, then her eyebrows pulled tight toward the center. “What did you do to my dress?” She shrieked and shot up but swooned again. With a hand to her head, she took a moment, then reached around her back. “Oh, my dear lord, what have you done!”
Charles cleared his throat. “I think he did what he thought was best to save your life.”
Susan glowered at her husband, and he shut his mouth. The man was controlled by a woman. That was never going to happen to Jeb. Ever.
Elizabeth pressed her palms against Jeb’s chest and shoved him away from her. “Susan’s right, you’re a beast.”
“You ungrateful woman. I saved your life and you call me names?” Jeb looked to the others for backup, but the narrowed gazes meant no one would defend him.
“Saved me? You ruined my dress.”
“What was I supposed to do, let you suffocate?” Jeb pushed from the ground and brushed the dirt from his pants.
Susan’s voice reared faster than a spooked horse. “You could’ve let me loosen the corset instead of ripping her fine dress. Not to mention the fact that this fine young woman has been exposed with the back of her dress open. And you could’ve cut her.”
Jeb threw his hands up in the air. “I can’t win. I save her life and I’m still the bad guy.”
Charles helped her off the ground, and Susan held her dress together in the back. “Come, dear, we’ll change you into your travel dress, and when we get to town, we can fix this one.”
Elizabeth sniffled, but to his surprise, she didn’t cry. Instead, she walked up to him and squared her shoulders. “Stay away from me.”
“I can assure you, ma’am, if you get on the stagecoach so we can be on our way you will be rid of me soon. You’ve made us even later by your already tiny frame getting choked by your ridiculous impractical dress, but once we reach Sherman you can spend your husband’s money on a new extravagant garment.” He left-faced to the stagecoach door, sending sand into a plume around him and causing Elizabeth to sneeze.
The only thing he could do now was hide in that darn confined stagecoach. If not, he’d falter in his ways. His ma was wrong, he did have too much of his pa in him, and a woman like this could ruin everything. He hadn’t understood it until this moment, the folklore of a woman turning a man upside down with only one look, but seeing Elizabeth in distress did something to him. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. For a moment, he cared about nothing but helping her. Not about his ranch, his men, his land. Only the pretty lady that would be no good for him except to twist him up so much, he would end up like his pa, working himself to death to please a woman that would never love him. Good thing she was already married.
Chapter Three
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her middle and held her head low. How could she face the cattle baron in this threadbare, faded dress? They all disembarked and stood around waiting for their baggage to be thrown down, except for Jeb Clayton and his humongous attitude. He hadn’t said a word, as had none of them for the rest of the trip.
The grit in her mouth from being on the ground when she couldn’t breathe lodged between teeth. The edges of her skirt were frayed, and her hair was disheveled. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. There was nothing to go home to now. By the time she made the trip back east, who knew if Cora would even still be there.
She had one thing to be thankful for, though. At least the breathing issue wasn’t her asthma. That would’ve been far worse than a traveled-
dirty appearance.
“If that dress is the only thing that makes your husband notice you, he’s not worth your affection” Jeb Clayton said before he strutted away.
If she didn’t know better, she would’ve thought he was worried about what would happen to her. Of course, the man was anything but caring.
Once her bag was tossed down, Susan opened her arms and hugged Elizabeth. “Once you’re settled, I’ll come visit you.”
Elizabeth squeezed her tight. Susan had fast become an honorary sister to her during their travels. “I would like that.”
William offered his hand. “Good luck.”
“Thank you. I hope to see you again soon.”
“You sure you don’t want me to go with you to have your dress fixed?” Susan asked.
Elizabeth shook her head, knowing it had been ripped beyond repair. Besides, she didn’t have any money to buy thread and needle to fix the dress herself.
Susan and Charles stole one more hug and then headed toward the edge of town.
Elizabeth lifted the bag, which was heavier than she’d remembered. She stumbled over to the nearest shade she could find and pushed the strands of hair that had curled out of place away from her eyes. Her neck, back, shoulders, and everything else ached from the stagecoach ride. Not to mention she had a choice between eating or bathing, and she’d chosen the later. The lack of food over the last few days caused her head to swim, as if she’d been caught in a whirlpool at the lake.
“You must have lost your mind, Mother.” Jeb Clayton marched toward Elizabeth with the same aggression as earlier. “Not this girl. Put her back on the stagecoach.”
Elizabeth struggled to keep everything in focus as the older woman offered her hand. “Hi, I’m Mary Clayton. You must be Francine McKinnie.”
Elizabeth shook her head, her brain catching up with the scene. Wait. No way this could be true. That man could not be the betrothed cattle baron. “No,” she mumbled, trying to catch up with the runaway situation.
