by Cyndi Raye
The office was empty. Grace saw a shadow outside and made her way to the front door. She opened the door, the bell jangling. “Shh,” she told the door, then giggled when she realized she was talking to an inanimate object. She didn’t have to worry, Dawson never heard or looked back. His determined steps crossing the street made Grace believe he was on a mission.
The saloon was lively this time of night. She heard the sounds of a piano in the night, clapping and stomping faintly in the background. Dawson strolled down the street, weaving his way towards the saloon doors. He hadn’t put on his jacket, his shirt tail hanging out. Grace pulled her shawl tighter. Was he going to the saloon? Why? He had told her to stay away from that area and now here he was, heading straight towards the forbidden doors.
A commotion began inside right before two men stumbled out. They almost fell over the porch, weaving their way around Dawson as he walked right through the door.
Grace wasn’t sure what to make of this. Was he a drinking man? If so, she wouldn’t abide this. Her hands went to grab her shawl a little tighter. The cool night was a bit chilly so she waited a few more minutes and when he didn’t return, she turned on her heels and went back inside the office. She didn’t care how much noise the bell above the door frame made.
Feeling her way around the large desk, she found a wooden match and lit the oil lamp. Turning it up so she could see, Grace sat down on the high-back chair. She may as well get started. It was time to find out just how deep in debt Mr. Sloan was. Things didn’t look good at all. No, siree, she worried her bottom lip, this was looking bad if he was going to gamble his money away. Is that what he was doing at the saloon? She found his ledgers in the top left drawer and opened the first one.
Rubbing her eyes, Grace got up several times to stir the coals in the stove. In the early morning hours before daylight, it seemed to be the coolest. Grace was exhausted but wanted to finish what she started. Several times, she stood on the front porch, gazing over to the saloon but the lights were still on there, although the world outside had gone quiet. It didn’t look as if many customers were there any longer. She wondered how long he would be? The piano music had stopped hours ago. Grace heard an occasional shout from inside but when Dawson didn’t emerge from the saloon, she closed her eyes and leaned on the post along the porch. Was he going to leave her every night for whatever was going on there?
With a sigh, Grace went back inside, determined to finish at least the first ledger. So far, the books looked fine. Everything was accounted for and he seemed to know what he was doing. Then why was he in trouble? Perhaps it wasn’t the books but his holdings. How much property did he actually own? How much had he sold recently? Mayhaps he was hanging on to too much property. She’d get to the bottom of things. With a yawn, Grace stood up and stretched. It had been a long night.
Looking back once more, she saw the last light go out in the saloon. It wasn’t quite sunrise yet, so Grace went back outside to stand on the porch and wait for him to come back. After ten minutes and no sign of Dawson, a frown appeared. Where in tar-nation was he? There was a small bench against the wall right under the window. She sat down and waited since Grace didn’t want to go back in the house alone just yet.
Grace’s eyes were getting heavy when she heard a noise across the street. The saloon door creaked as it opened when Dawson walked out, stretching his arms in front of him. She almost smiled until a woman walked out behind him. Grace watched as she placed a hand on his upper arm. He turned to her before placing his own hand on her shoulder, patting it gently as if he were familiar with her. It appeared as if they were talking to each other before the woman turned and went back inside. Grace didn’t get a good look at the lady, except she wore a long, dark skirt that swished back and forth when she moved. She hadn’t looked cheap like those painted ladies in the penny novels she had read about. Her hair was pulled back, not all fancied up and her clothes were proper.
She tried to remember her mother’s wise words that some things are not always how they appear and yet, Dawson was a married man who spent the night not with his wife but with another woman in a saloon.
Grace’s world was crashing down right in front of her. She stood up, anger beginning to encompass her whole body. How dare he make a fool of her, mail order bride or not! She may have fallen in to this without realizing what was happening at the time but that didn’t give him the right to flaunt a fancy lady in front of her and the whole town.
Dawson’s hair was tussled and he strolled across the street as if it didn’t matter that he was coming home before the sun was up. Was it acceptable to the town for a man to behave this way here? Did he not think anything of the way he behaved?
He didn’t seem to notice her at first, his head was down and he looked exhausted. Grace pursed her lips and crossed the shawl tighter around her shoulders. She stood on the wooden porch blocking the door. When Dawson looked up and saw her standing there, he skidded to a stop, then slowly made his way towards her, taking long strides until he stood in front of her.
The two of them looked at each other in silence. “It isn’t what you think,” Dawson told her, his voice rough as if it was hard for him to speak. She stared in to his eyes, they looked haunted, wild, as if he had been going through something awful.
“Are you alright?” she asked, angry but worried there was more to this than meets the eye.
“I will be once I start the day.”
“Have you slept?” she asked him, her voice angry but concerned.
He placed a hand on her elbow to steer her inside. When the bell jangled, she walked in, Dawson behind her. The door went shut and she turned to face him, prepared to let him have a piece of her mind. “I’m not sure how things are done out here, but I have no intention of being a placid wife. I won’t sit idly by while you tally with saloon girls and drink your problems away.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t have a drink tonight. You sound like the rest of them.”
“The rest of who?” She turned away, afraid of the look on his face. He was a haunted man, it was clear to see but she wasn’t about to go down that road with him. He had no right to treat her like this on her wedding night.
“My friends. They think I need to clean up my act but no one has any idea what I have to deal with every single night.”
Grace swung around. “Why don’t you tell me, after all, I am your wife now. I told you, I won’t stand for this.”
It was clear the man had demons. He gritted his teeth and said, “I don’t have to tell you that you are here because of my business. You have a degree in accounting. It doesn’t take an expert to know you didn’t come here for me.”
He was right. Had she known how handsome he was going to be, she may have thought twice. The part about having feelings for someone didn’t abode well with her. She wanted to work on books and ledgers, not on a marriage. But she was here. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Dawson. I am trying to make the best of things but I’ve been here barely twenty four hours and look what you’ve done!”
Dawson sighed. He took a chair at the desk. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s not what you think, I promise, but I can’t discuss this with you right now.” He brought his head up, looking in to her eyes. “Please, trust me.”
She worked her way to his side and knelt down. Taking his face in her hands, she almost backed away at the touch of his warm skin. But she held fast. “I want to help you, Dawson. I am good at accounting. Marriage, not so much. It is all new to me but I won’t stand for a husband to flaunt himself in a saloon as if I mean nothing.”
He raised his hands and placed them over hers. She almost jumped back at his touch. His hands were so warm and even though calloused from hard work, they felt nice on her skin. She almost closed her eyes and leaned in. Almost. If he was trying to soften the blow by being kind, he had another think coming. Grace needed to stay angry or he would continue the behavior she saw tonight. “I can’t let you make a fool of me, Dawson Sloan.”
�
�I promise I won’t.”
“Then don’t go back there again.” She realized the moment she spoke those words she had said the wrong thing. His hands left her and he pushed back the chair.
When he stood up, Grace was still kneeling by the chair. He looked so tall and formidable. A tortured man stood before her, and she wanted to know why. “I don’t know if I can keep that promise, Grace.”
“You have to. Who is the woman?”
Dawson took a step to the window. He ran a hand over his hair and sighed. “Her name is Lily. She isn’t who you may think. Lily is a friend, that’s all. She’s helped me with the nightmares.”
Grace crossed her arms over her bodice. “Do you think I’m daft? You ask me to trust you, after you’ve been dallying with a woman all night, in a saloon, I may add. How do you think it looks from where I am standing?”
“I know, it looks bad. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.”
Grace tapped her toe on the wooden floor, frustrated. “You are a married man now. I am not sure what is the truth and what isn’t but believe me, I’ll get to the bottom of things. Just like I do with the accounts. Mr. Sloan, I forbid you to dally with that woman as long as we are married.”
Dawson turned to stare at her. She was serious and stared right back at him. She hadn’t come all this way to be made a fool of. Most women didn’t talk back to their husbands but she wasn’t most.
He grinned. “Mrs. Sloan, you are adorable when angry.”
His smile was catching. She grinned right back. “You haven’t seen anything yet, Mr. Sloan.”
He took a few steps toward her, stopping about an inch away. Grace held her breath. Dawson lifted his hand and cupped her chin. “I promise,” he said, his voice low and husky, “I won’t dally with Lily again. I’ll go tell her so right now.”
Grace stood frozen to the wooden floor as the door slammed shut, the bell jingling in the background. He was going back to tell her so? That made no sense. She began walking towards the door to call him back when his words earlier hit her.
She’s helped me with the nightmares.“What nightmares?” What exactly was Grace getting in to here.
Chapter 4
After Dawson left, Grace decided to clean up and go to the mercantile. Since she was going to be working in the small office, it needed some sprucing up. She lugged a small table from the house to the office and set it in front of the long wooden bench. All it needed was a small vase of flowers, a dish with candies and perhaps a few books to make the room a bit more cozy. On a mission, Grace left the land office and began her trek towards the mercantile. She steered clear of the saloon, the structure appearing too quiet this time of morning.
A few men walked down the boarded walk, nodding to her and tipping their hats. “Good morning, gentlemen,” she offered to three men strolling by.
She entered the mercantile. “Ma’am, I’ll be with you shortly,” a voice called out.
“I’m in no hurry,” Grace told the older man. “I’ll look around.” She wandered through the two isles of merchandise, picking out what she needed while the owner of the store took care of his customer. As Grace got closer to them, she noticed a well-dressed lady at the counter.
The woman turned to her and smiled, holding out her hand. “Good morning, Mrs. Sloan. Nice to meet you again. We met briefly at the wedding ceremony.”
Grace took her hand, remembering. Right now, she wasn’t in a mood to recall yesterday’s wedding. “Good morning, Miss Addie. Nice to see you again, too.”
“Would you care to have tea? I have some steeping on the stove as we speak. It’s just a walk down the block.”
Grace nodded. It would be nice to talk to another woman. “Sure, I need a few things and I’ll be along.”
“I’ll wait. We’ll walk together.” Miss Addie stepped to the side while Grace paid for her purchases from the money she brought with her. She tried to pick up the penny novel and other things from the counter but the owner stopped her.
“Nonsense, Mrs. Sloan. I’ll have these things delivered to your house this afternoon. Little Billy is coming in today to work off a train set he wanted some time back. If I don’t give him chores to do, he’ll be under my feet, asking me a million questions I can’t answer.”
“Very well, thank you, sir.”
“Names Jimmy, not sir.”
“Thank you, Jimmy.” Grace walked down the street with Miss Addie towards a lovely home set between the parish and a row of three empty houses, where pretty flowers graced the porch in wooden-like boxes. A sign hung over her porch, Miss Adeline’s Boarding House.
Grace followed her inside to find a homey atmosphere. She felt welcomed the moment she stepped inside the parlor. “What a lovely place,” Grace told her new friend.
“I’ve worked hard to make it so, thank you. Now, Grace, if I may call you Grace?” At her nod, Addie went on. “Sit right down and I’ll get our tea.”
A few moments later, Miss Addie came in carrying a silver tray with two porcelain cups, along with a sugar bowl and tiny creamer set. As they busied themselves with making the tea, Grace waited for Miss Addie’s questions. It was why she was invited here, she was certain. Not one for small talk, Grace decided to get down to business. After all, she was an accountant and timing was everything. “Miss Addie, thank you for inviting me. I’m sure you have some things to tell me and it’s why I’m here. I don’t dally so talk away.”
Miss Addie put down her cup. “I like you, young lady. You are right, I do have some things to say. However, I like to meet the ladies that have taken it upon themselves to take up my offer of becoming a mail order bride. I’ve screened you myself as I do each and every single person on my list. Those who want to be a bride and the men who need a bride. No one gets past my scrutiny. Saying that, I know Mr. Sloan is going through some difficult times at the moment and I am hoping you will understand if he has a slow start with this marriage. He is a fine man otherwise. I would not have him on my list if it weren’t the truth.”
Grace knew he was hiding something. Maybe now she would find out what. “What happened to him, Miss Addie?”
The older woman seemed hesitant to speak. She picked up her teacup again and sipped slowly. At first Grace didn’t think she would answer but then she did. “He has awful nightmares of the attack that happened some time ago down by the creek property. Two children died there and he blames himself even though he didn’t have a hand in the murders. Outlaws tried to oust a family that bought the property from Sloan Brothers Land and Title Company.”
A hand went to Grace’s mouth. “That’s terrible,” she whispered, shocked at the news.
“I don’t normally tell other people’s business affairs but you are his wife and he needs you, Grace. I am hoping you can calm his tortured demons and make him realize it wasn’t his fault.”
“What happened? Tell me, please,” she asked, wanting to know all the details so she could help her husband.
Miss Addie went on. “Dawson had hired a young man, one of the Murphy boys, to be an apprentice. He had taught the young man how to sell property and the boy did great. Then Dawson got notice a shipment of his parents furniture was waiting for him. So he left for Fort Worth for a few days and told the Murphy boy he was in charge. Dawson thought for a few days the boy would be able to handle the shop. That’s how it all started.”
Grace’s heart began to pound. “What did he do?”
“There have been outlaw sightings down by a certain section of the river recently. A few years ago a man built a cabin there but then sold it back to Dawson last year when the outlaws began to pester him. When Dawson realized how dangerous it was in that location, he agreed to give the man his money back and sold him something else in a safer area. He was going to tear the cabin down and leave the land barren but hadn’t done so yet. Dawson left clear instructions to the young man the cabin was not to be sold.”
A gut-wrenching feeling came upon Grace. “The boy sold the land, didn’t he?”
“Yes, while Dawson was away. He wanted to sell as much land as he could and try to impress Dawson. The family who wanted it, loved the area and insisted on buying it, so the Murphy boy gave in. When Dawson came back and found out it was sold, he tried to tell the family it was a mistake but the new owner refused to leave. He wouldn’t let Dawson buy it back. Your husband went every single day to convince him otherwise, to no avail.” Addie took a sip of her tea. “I’m sorry, this is difficult but I must tell you. I’m afraid Dawson will never do so.”
Grace was feeling sick to her stomach. She placed the tea cup on the table. “Go on.” She had to hear the rest no matter how horrible.
“Dawson was heading there one morning like he always did when he heard screams. Two outlaws were attacking the family. The father was trying to save his daughters, two young girls no more than ten years old, but one of the outlaws pistol whipped him, knocking him out cold. When Dawson came upon them, he shot both outlaws dead. But it didn’t bring back the girls.”
Grace began to cry. She let the tears fall. How awful to come upon such a scene. “How long ago did this happen?”
“A bit over six months ago.”
“Long enough to put his business in jeopardy.” It was no wonder he was falling behind. If he hadn’t had a sale in six months, it could ruin him. She began to feel empathy towards her husband and his nightmares.
“He needs you, Grace. It may be why you are here.”
Grace smiled at her new friend. Miss Addie could be misconstrued as a busy body but she had the best intentions. She cared about this town and all its inhabitants. Someone had to. The west was not a friendly place.
“Is that why he left me last night on our wedding night? The nightmares get the best of him? Is it why he was in the arms of Lily?” Grace hated to mention the other woman because it still made her angry. Being in another person’s arms no matter what happened was wrong. She did remember Dawson telling her to trust him. It wasn’t what she thought. Now she understood more.
