Her Silent Burden_Seeing Ranch series

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Her Silent Burden_Seeing Ranch series Page 13

by Florence Linnington


  “In this town?” Wakefield hissed so no one else could hear. “A mining town full of men?”

  “If you hate it so much, why’d you open a saloon here?”

  “I didn’t have the proper foresight,” he grumbled.

  “You didn’t plan on a wife,” Noah pointed out with a grin.

  Wakefield snorted. He was tired of this conversation, and Thea still hadn’t come through the door.

  “I’m going out to find her,” Wakefield said.

  Right as the last word left his lips, the door opened, and Thea entered. Every head turned in the door’s direction, and more than a few stayed that way.

  Making haste, Wakefield crossed the floor and slipped an arm around her waist. The handful of miners who had still been staring turned back around in their seats. They’d gotten the point. Thea was taken. Don’t even bothering setting eyes on her.

  “I am sorry I’m later than I meant to be,” Thea said.

  Wakefield started to tell her he was about to go out and look for her, but then he noticed how pale she was. “Are you well?”

  “Yes. I am simply tired.” She touched her forehead. “That’s all. Now, would you like to show me around my new job?”

  “I’m gon’ have you stay in the office until the rush is over. Shouldn’t be too long. After that, we can get to cleaning up front. The floorboards need a good scrubbing.”

  He tightened his hold around her waist as he walked her across the saloon. Men made a point of looking in the other direction, and Wakefield couldn’t help but feel slightly smug. His plan seemed to be working already. He was worried about Thea being in a town of miners, but it was inevitable that they all would see her sooner or later. At least this way, he showed them all firsthand how serious he was. There would be no leering at or even thinking about touching her.

  In the cramped office, Wakefield pulled the chair out from the desk. “They’ll all be gone soon.”

  “You don’t want me out there with them?”

  He paused. “It’s not...”

  Wakefield didn’t continue. Instead of wearing the slightly petulant look he’d expected, Thea looked at the floor, her face flat. Almost like she’d forgotten she had asked a question.

  “Thea?” He touched her elbow.

  She turned her pale face to his. “Yes?”

  “You don’t look good. Maybe you should go home. Noah or I will walk you soon as—”

  “No.” She waved her hand. “I am fine.”

  Wakefield had the overwhelming urge to not let her out of his site. He couldn’t say why, but the fear that always lay just below the surface had begun to bubble.

  Had he made a mistake by bringing her to the saloon? He’d tried to keep her hidden away, but that had hurt her. Bringing her to Outpost and keeping an eye on her was the only choice left.

  And yet he knew he couldn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to. That would backfire. If he were always calling the shots, sooner or later she’d come to resent him.

  Wakefield reached for Thea, and she smoothly stepped into his arms.

  “If you don’t want to be here, let me know,” he said.

  “In Whiteridge?” Thea’s brow wrinkled.

  “No. At the saloon.” He pressed his hands to her back. “Did you think—”

  “No.” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “I am sorry. I am not thinking straight.”

  Wakefield ran his finger down her jaw. “What’s going on?”

  Fear flashed in Thea’s eyes, and she sucked in a loud breath.

  “Thea?”

  A large bang made them both jump.

  Turning to look out the door, Wakefield frowned. More banging, all of it coming from the front of the saloon.

  “Watch your mouth!” someone roared.

  Wakefield cursed under his breath. “Stay here,” he told Thea.

  Running to the front of the saloon, he found a brawl taking place in the corner of the room. Some men darted out of the way while others hooted and hollered. Through the bodies, Wakefield saw Johnston reach for his pistol. Before he could close his hands over it, though, Vang landed a punch to his jaw. Johnston hit the floor with a sickening thud.

  “What’s going on?” Thea asked coming up next to Wakefield.

  He grabbed her shoulder. “Get in the office. Now!”

  A glass flew right by her head and smashed against the wall. Thea shrieked and cowered.

  “Go!” He pushed her back down the hallway, and she finally listened.

  Turning back around, Wakefield threw himself into the melee. Noah had hauled Johnston up and, with another miner, pushed him out the front door.

  “What’s going on here?” Wakefield demanded of the whole room.

  A few men looked at Vang, and anger roared through Wakefield.

  Of course.

  Wakefield stomped over to Vang. Blood trickled down from his lip, and one of his eyes was swelling. “Getting into fights your thing now?”

  “He didn’t start it,” Welty piped up. “Johnston said something wrong about my mother. I won’t even repeat it. No, I won’t. And Vang told him to shut his mouth. He wouldn’t, and then Vang showed him his fists. He stood up for my ma.”

  Wakefield looked down at Vang. “This true?”

  Vang lifted his chin. “Welty is a good friend of mine. I wasn’t about to let that fellow go on like that.”

  Wakefield sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. A table was overturned, and at least a few glasses had been broken. His saloon had been upended in an attempt to defend the honor of a woman who would probably never hear about the circumstance. He would have laughed if he also weren’t the one stuck with cleaning up.

  “Right then,” Wakefield sighed. He looked to Noah, though his next words were for everyone.

  “Johnston isn’t allowed back in here. Anyone who might be friendly with him, let him know.” Wakefield turned and swept his gaze across each and every man there. “I don’t put up with violence in my saloon. My wife was almost hurt. Accident or not, if any man here ever brings any harm to her, they’ll have me to answer to.”

  He let his last words echo in the room. The lack of responses told him he’d made his point.

  Righting a chair, he stomped across the room and into the office. When he opened the door, Thea bolted to standing.

  “What happened?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  “Men with too much to drink. That’s what happened. Are you all right? That glass didn’t get you?” He cupped her jaw and looked at her face.

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  The tone of her voice said she was anything but. Clearly, the fight had shaken her.

  “I’m sorry this was your introduction to the saloon. It’s not usually like this.”

  Thea placed her hand over his. “I know. Things happen. Um, Wakefield… I need to tell you something.”

  He bit back a sigh and glanced over his shoulder. “What is it?”

  “It’s… important.”

  Wakefield looked back at her. “What?”

  Before she could answer, muffled voices from the saloon’s front pulled at his attention once again.

  “Later,” he promised her, stepping back toward the door. “We’ll talk later.”

  Thea nodded, but she wouldn’t look him in the eye.

  Chapter 21

  whatever the consequences were

  21. Thea

  Chapter twenty-one

  With her heart heavy, Thea watched Wakefield go back into the saloon. Her news had been on the tip of her tongue, ready to fly forth. Although, honestly, she was half glad they had been interrupted.

  On the walk from Mr. Zimmerman’s to the saloon, she’d vomited once more, although she suspected it was not due to pregnancy but to nerves. Weren’t husbands supposed to be happy when they learned their wives were pregnant? Didn’t they shout for joy? Shower their spouse with kisses?

  Thea had a feeling there would be none of that for her. Wakefield had expl
icitly told her he did not want children.

  Surely, she thought, he knew the chance was always there? Even with taking precautions, pregnancy could not always be absolutely avoided.

  And then there was the other part to all of this—the part she was most afraid of sharing. The child was not Wakefield’s. It was one thing to welcome a young one you never planned for, but another man’s baby?

  Wakefield had ordered a bride, not a bride and a child.

  Thea pressed her fingertips against her closed eyelids, watching spots of light swim there. She didn’t want to share her news with Wakefield, but every moment she didn’t get to nearly killed her.

  A noise outside the office made her open her eyes.

  “Sorry,” the man said. “I was goin’ out back to the pump.” He tipped his hat to her, and she noticed the blood on his face. “Have to clean up.”

  “No worries.” Thea faked a smile.

  “Edward Vang, ma’am.”

  “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Are you well, Mrs. Briggs? I saw you come out front. Sorry, you had to see all that.”

  “It’s quite all right,” she slowly said. “How do you know my name?”

  “There aren’t many women in this town.” He smiled. “And I kinda put two and two together and figured any woman in the saloon’s office was the owner’s wife.”

  “Of course. How silly of me. I’m not thinking straight right now, I’m afraid.”

  “The fight got you shook up?”

  Thea’s inhale rattled her chest. “Yes,” she lied.

  In comparison to the real worries on her mind, the fight was nothing.

  “Anything I can do for you?”

  Thea cocked her head, inspecting the man. If he had approached her anywhere else, she might have been afraid. How did she know he wasn’t the fight’s instigator?

  As it was, she could hear Wakefield and Noah’s voices coming from the front of the saloon, and that put her at ease. No one would harm her with her husband so close by.

  “I am fine,” Thea said, “Thank you. However… You are still bleeding, did you know that?”

  He touched his lip and looked at the blood on his fingers as if he’d forgotten he was hurt at all. “Oh. That’s right.”

  “Here. Have a seat.” Taking the chair from behind Wakefield’s desk, she set it in the hall.

  Thea needed something to do to distract her mind, and fixing Mr. Vang up seemed as good of a task as any. If Mr. Vang had caused trouble in the saloon, Wakefield probably would have kicked him out already.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said, as he settled into the chair against the wall.

  Going out back, Thea filled a bucket with water from the pump. There were clean rags in Wakefield’s office, and she found a box of bandages and salves as well. Taking everything back into the hallway, she set her collection down on the floor.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Mr. Vang said, “though I do appreciate it.”

  “I have something of a talent when it comes to cleaning up injuries,” Thea said, wringing water from a rag and gently dabbing the blood from Mr. Vang’s face.

  “Why’s that?”

  “I am the oldest in my family.”

  “And where is your family, if I might ask?”

  “South Carolina.” Her stomach knotted at the thought of her family. She hadn’t yet received a letter from them but had been planning on writing a second one soon, anyway.

  And what would she tell them? That she was with child and her future was uncertain? That she had no clue how her husband would react? So far, Wakefield had shown her nothing but kindness and love. Suppose a surprise pregnancy changed all of that.

  Would he go as far as to kick her out? Send her back to South Carolina?

  That didn’t seem like Wakefield—not the man she had desperately fallen for. But, really, how could she know? She had only known him for a few weeks. Anyone could keep their worst side hidden for that long. Thea knew that all too well with her first husband.

  “My companion and I, we’re thinking of settling down here,” Mr. Vang said. “It’s real nice in these mountains.”

  Thea finished cleaning his face and rifled through the medicine kit. The bandages wouldn’t be of any help, but perhaps there was a salve she could have him put on his lip’s cut. Opening one container, Thea smelled its contents and instantly recognized the mix of herbs used to treat cuts and bumps.

  “And will you work at the mine?” she asked, using one finger to delicately apply the salve.

  “We’ve both done mine work. That’s in the past.”

  “So what will you do then? I imagine it is not easy to have a farm up here. Clearing land for a family garden is difficult enough.”

  “Yup,” Mr. Vang agreed. “I was thinking we might open up a business. Something like your husband’s establishment here.”

  Thea closed the medicine kit. “A saloon?”

  Did Whiteridge really need a second one? She thought of the brief conversation in Mr. Zimmerman’s kitchen. The town needed a church. A school.

  In a few short years, Thea’s own child would be needing an education.

  If Wakefield has not sent us away.

  The thought caused tears to pool, which Thea had to quickly blink dry.

  “It’s something I’m good at,” Mr. Vang said. “Managing men who drink.”

  He chuckled, but Thea did not see where the humor was.

  “Whiteridge is small,” she said, straightening up and looking down at Mr. Vang. “I believe we are good with one saloon, Mr. Vang.”

  Her voice was more forceful than she intended, and she knew she was likely taking her frustrations over the pregnancy out on Mr. Vang, but Thea found it hard to care.

  “Now, now, Mrs. Briggs. I ain’t trying to take business from your husband. There’s room enough in this town for two saloons.”

  “But do we need two saloons?” she snapped. “That is the question I would ask.”

  “The mine is rich. There’s more work there than men. Plus the railroad is coming this way. It could be it’ll wind its way up this very mountain soon. Daniel Zimmerman will save even more money and time by not shipping it all down the mountain in carts. Just you wait and see, Mrs. Briggs. In five years’ time, Whiteridge will be booming.”

  Thea did not meet his eyes. At the moment, she did not care about the future at all. She had her present life to figure out.

  “What about your husband?” Mr. Vang asked. “He doesn’t seem like the kind of man for this business.”

  “What does that mean?” Thea asked. “What kind of man should be in this business?”

  “I don’t want to soil your pretty ears, Mrs. Briggs, so I won’t get too into the details. Let’s just say saloon work calls for a man who’s not afraid to let things get a little wild. Let men be men—within certain limitations. Your husband runs a tight ship around here; tighter than any other saloon I’ve been to. You know, a lot of saloons have women working in them, don’t you? And not to serve the drinks.”

  Thea’s cheeks burned hot. He was speaking to her as if she were a child, and Thea had no patience for it. She also did not appreciate his views on women.

  “I am well aware of that, Mr. Vang. I am also well aware that it is my husband’s job to run his saloon as he sees fit. As you already pointed out, business is doing quite well.”

  Mr. Vang seemed unaffected by the short rant. “Things are good now, but how long can a man with no stomach for disorder last? Sooner or later, the lifestyle will break him.”

  “Why are you telling me this, Mr. Vang?”

  “I’m concerned, is all. You seem like a nice woman. You offered to fix me up, even though you don’t know me at all. I’d hate to see you caught up in some situation that wasn’t to your benefit—caught up with a man who can’t take care of you.”

  The words hit Thea where it hurt the most. She already had fears that Wakefield might suddenly turn her away due to her being with another ma
n’s child. Looking away, she tightened her hold on the medicine kit.

  “Thank you for your concerns,” she said through her teeth, “but we are managing quite well.”

  “Thea,” Wakefield called.

 

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