Axel dismissed the thought. He would have remembered those full lips and large olive-shaped eyes. Though, how old would she have been when he left New York? Almost ten years ago?
Pounding on the door halted his calculations. Axel rotated and sprung from the bed, grabbing for his pants.
Pa’s voice filtered through the solid wood. “Lady got out somehow and has gone missing. Best hurry and get your boots on.”
Axel grabbed them from where he’d dropped them last night and charged the door.
“What is it? What’s happened?” Eliza sat up in bed, keeping the quilt to her throat. Her tousled hair hung about her shoulders. Even groggy and with red marks on her face showing the creases of the pillow case, she was beautiful.
He paused and shoved his foot into one of the boots. “Desert Lady’s gone.”
“Your horse?”
He gave a nod, while switching to hop on the other foot to pull the second boot on. “I’ll have to go after her. Hopefully she hasn’t gone too far.” Dragging his gaze from Eliza, he groaned, his muscles even stiffer than before he’d gone to bed. So much for a restful day.
Pa was already at the corral in question by the time Axel blinked the morning sun from his eyes. He pulled his Stetson low.
“She must have nibbled on the rope and somehow got it untied.”
Axel stepped around him. The rope was perfectly intact. If the horse hadn’t untied it, someone had. But it didn’t look chewed on. He scanned the ground for any unusual prints. Nothing. Just his boots and his father’s. Plus, the filly looked to have taken her sweet time, touring the area and visiting with the other horses before striking out to the west…toward Cooper land. He’d best be getting after her if he didn’t want to stir any pots.
“What you thinking?”
Axel moved past to fetch the saddle and bridle from the barn for his gelding. “I don’t know. I have a hard time believing she got those knots loose on her own. But there’s nothing here to suggest otherwise.”
Pa followed slower. Axel shot him a glance to find him scratching the side of his jaw, looking thoughtful.
“What are you thinking?” Axel asked
“Awe, nothing.” Pa waved him away. “Just an unfortunate chance, I reckon. You go after her while I finish the chores and start on breakfast. You’ll probably be back before Luke gets here, but if not, I’ll send him out to help.”
At least that brightened the situation. Old Luke Ingles came down every Sunday, and if Axel had any trouble finding Desert Lady, there wasn’t anything the old mountain man couldn’t track. With any luck he’d also be able to tell who untied the rope, because Axel was pretty sure the filly hadn’t managed that on her own. But it was just the kind of mischief the Cooper boys might try.
Chapter 6
Now was her chance. Elizabeth didn’t even bother changing from her nightgown. With the Forsbergs distracted by the missing horse, she should have time to search the large trunk. The shawl wrapping her shoulders, she hurried to Lars’s room and heaved the large lid open. Clothes sat on top, clean and folded with care. Then a couple of woolen blankets. A stack of books rose from one side. On the other, an old pair of boots nestled the corner while a wooden box, no more than six inches tall and a foot long, rested along the back. A large lock sealed it.
The money.
Why else would it be so fortified and hidden out of sight? She had to get it open, but a thorough examination of the rest of the trunk revealed no key and she didn’t remember seeing one during her search of the cabin. No matter. If she couldn’t get in through the front, she’d find another way.
Elizabeth carried the box to the table, then slipped to the window to make sure she still had time. There was no sign of Axel, but Lars was already half way to the cabin.
Grabbing the box, she darted back to the trunk, but paused before setting it in. A weathered envelope lay on the floor of the trunk, thick with letters or documents. She snatched it out, dropped the box in place, piled the blankets and clothes back on top, lowered the lid, and raced back to Axel’s room. The door clicked closed as the one at the front of the cabin opened. Elizabeth leaned into the wood to catch her breath while Lars walked to the stove. Hinges sang. He was probably stoking the fire so he could heat some coffee or make breakfast. Probably both.
Tiptoeing away from the door, Elizabeth tossed her shawl to the bed and hurried to dress. As she brushed the tangles from her hair, the aroma of frying eggs and steak leaked into the room, making her stomach ache. These men loved their beef. She would miss their cooking when she left, but at least she would have the means of eating well once she got that box open.
“Good morning,” Lars greeted as she stepped out of the bedroom. “Sorry about the ruckus earlier. Axel’s gone after the filly, and I doubt he’ll have too much trouble bringing her home.”
“Good.” Elizabeth pasted a smile on her face. The last thing she needed was for him to suspect her. Not until she was ready to leave. The thought of the locked box hidden in the next room was enough to twinge each nerve in her body. “Is there anything I can do to help?” She’d play the part of Eliza a while longer.
“If you want to set plates out, I’d like to talk with you about something.”
“Of course.” Though she didn’t want to hear anything he had to say, she walked to the shelves and pulled three of the metal plates from where they had been left to dry after supper. Her gaze wandered to the finer china on a higher shelf, an elegant rose design adorning the border.
“Those were Axel’s mother’s.” Lars sighed and returned his focus to flipping the eggs. “We didn’t bring much with us when we left New York, but there were a few things of hers we couldn’t let go of.”
Elizabeth remained silent and set the plates out on the table.
“Besides,” Lars continued, “it makes this wilderness feel more like a home. Here, hand me one of those.”
She passed him a plate, and he loaded it with eggs.
“I want to apologize for not being completely honest with you about those letters I sent. I didn’t want to deceive you, but I knew Axel would never do it for himself. He’d waste his life away up here and never realize what he was missing until he died alone. He never thinks beyond this ranch, it’s been his dream for so long. But I wanted more for him than that.” Lars set the spatula aside and took one of her hands. “Will you forgive me?”
Forgive him? Elizabeth struggled with the instinct to yank away. “Of course.” Perhaps for that one offence, but not for destroying her family. She would never forgive that.
“Thank you.”
She turned away before her face betrayed her. It was too hard to keep the hate from twisting down the corners of her mouth, or lighting a fire in her eyes.
“I believe with all my soul that Axel will be a good husband to you if you let him. His mother raised him well—I can take no credit for that. I was always gone when he was young. I had decided when we came to America that I would take full advantage of all opportunities while here. I would make us wealthy. I gave everything to that goal. And then Camilla died.”
Was he trying to explain why he felt justified in his misuse of her father? Perhaps he was right about Axel, and the younger Forsberg didn’t deserve to be the brunt of her wrath…but she couldn’t think of a way to injure the elder without hurting his son in the process. And why should she try? Her father hadn’t been the only one harmed by Lars’s actions.
Elizabeth pushed away every sensation of feeling while she sat and ate, clearing her plate before Axel shoved his way into the cabin with a white haired, unbathed man in buckskin clothes on his heels. A full beard didn’t hide the grin on the man’s face. “Well, I’ll be! When Axel told me he’d gotten married, I laughed in his face, figuring he’d come off that horse of his one too many times, but I see I was a little hasty with my assumptions.”
Axel’s lips pulled up a little, but his brow remained furrowed. “Eliza, this is Luke Ingles. Luke, this is my wife.”
Axel allowed himself a smile, but he was still visibly ready to boil over.
Elizabeth pressed her hands to her side as the tension continued to build along her spine. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ingles. Were you able to find your horse, Axel?”
“Yes.” The terseness of his tone told exactly how he felt about the whole ordeal.
“Good.”
He tromped to the table and braced his hands against the edge. “Pa, Luke agrees with me. There’s no way that horse untied those knots with no marks on the ropes. I don’t know how they got in and out with no prints, but it’s got to be the Coopers. This is just the thing that youngest boy, Eli, would do.”
Lars dished up a steak and some eggs and slid the plate toward his son. “But with no prints, of any kind—”
“Luke and I talked about that.” Axel sat down and picked up a fork while Lars fixed another plate for the mountain man. “He said he’s seen it before where someone wraps his feet and horse’s hooves with rags. It would make it harder to find the tracks, but we’ll take another look after breakfast.”
“There’s no hurry,” the older man said, hunkering down in the chair next to Axel. “If the tracks are there, they won’t go anywhere before we’re done with meeting.”
Elizabeth looked to each man in turn, coming to the slow realization of what Mr. Ingles was talking about. A Bible sat at the far corner of the table and today was Sunday. What excuse could she use to avoid what must be coming?
***
Axel glanced to the door, his leg involuntarily twitching his desire to walk out as Pa continued to read from the New Testament.
“‘Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice.’”
He’d read one scripture after another about forgiveness, and now he had moved on to putting away anger. Not something Axel wanted to do quite yet. He’d get around to that after he rode up to the Cooper ranch.
“‘And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you.’”
Axel glanced to Eliza and the stoic look on her face. Did she understand his need to face the Coopers about releasing the horse, or was she, as a good Christian woman, in agreement with Pa that he should let it go, turn the other cheek? She’d likely think less of him for holding a grudge.
He let out his breath and slumped in his chair, drawing everyone’s attention. “What?”
Luke laughed out loud and leaned to clap Axel on the back. “Your Pa is one for his sermons, isn’t he? Doesn’t say a word. Pulls out that Bible and has you repenting six ways from Sunday.”
Axel grunted his reply. “All right. I’ll leave the Coopers alone. But I’ll be waiting for them. Next time they sneak over here with their tomfoolery, I won’t let it go.”
“We don’t even know that it was them.” Pa lowered the Bible to his lap, but it remained open.
“Who else would it be? I know that horse didn’t let herself go.”
“Just don’t go rushing off when you’re angry. If we need to talk to them, we’ll both ride up in the middle of the day. And we’ll leave the guns at home. I don’t care if it is Harvey’s boys having themselves a laugh, we don’t need a feud on our hands.”
Axel crossed his arms and stole another glance at Eliza. Pa was right. He couldn’t let his anger drive him to risk his life when he had a wife to provide for. He had a responsibility to her now. What’s more, he didn’t want her regretting the man she’d married. He’d told her he wasn’t given to losing his temper, and yet she’d only been here two days and already she’d seen it flare. Thankfully, she didn’t look upset as she met his gaze. Instead she appeared contemplative…and almost pleased. A spark lit her eyes as she gave him a small smile.
***
Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed and unfolded the documents that had been crammed into the aged envelope. She paused to listen, but as far as she could tell the men still loitered outside discussing the ranch and swapping tales with Luke Ingles. She pulled the lamp near, the lowering sun no longer providing sufficient light to make out the tiny type-set words. It was a document of some kind. Involving the business, outlining equal shared interests and dated seventeen years ago. She flipped to the next paper. Pushing aside the several handwritten letters in between. Another form outlined the sale of fifty percent of the business by Lars Forsberg to her father. For the sum of four dollars and twenty-three cents.
Was it a joke of some sorts? Had this been mockery of Father after Forsberg had already taken everything from the business? Why else would he have kept the document but to humor himself at the memory of his successful swindle? She folded the papers and shoved them back in the envelope, her stomach churning. Lars Forsberg was the worst kind of scoundrel. He had sat with his Bible today and spouted scripture to control his son. He had looked at her with such genuine apology and asked for her forgiveness. No wonder Father had been taken in by him.
She almost felt sorry for Axel.
Elizabeth wrapped the envelope in the clothes she’d worn that day and stuffed the bundle into her trunk. At the first opportunity, she would return it to the trunk in Lars’s room. Then she would try to figure out a way into the box. And how to start a war.
At the sound of the men entering the cabin, Elizabeth jumped into the bed and jerked the quilt over her. A moment later, the bedroom door sighed open. Axel moved across the room, momentarily pausing at the foot of the bed to remove his boots and outside clothes. She remained facing away as he crawled onto the mattress beside her. For a couple of minutes he laid silent, then his callused hand squeezed her shoulder, and he pressed his lips to her ear.
“I’m sorry.”
Elizabeth rotated onto her back and peered up at him. Lamplight lit the angles of his face and glowed in his eyes. Her breathing slowed. “For what?”
He lowered himself beside her, forcing her to turn a little farther if she wanted to see his face. She couldn’t help herself. Even though he softened his voice, it rumbled. “I was thinking about your letters. After Pa asked you about your faith in Christ, you wrote with such devotion. I can’t help wondering how disappointed you must be realizing you’ve married a flawed man.”
Elizabeth stared at him, the earnestness in his gaze, the tight line his mouth formed. Her heart seemed to seize. As did her mind. “I…I don’t…”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
Didn’t she? Make up some line? Continue her charade? “Aren’t we all flawed?” Her whispered words rang loud in her head as did her mother’s, ones Elizabeth had heard spoken at home and at church as a child. “Isn’t that why we need Christ?”
A crease appeared in his cheek as though he considered a smile. His gaze moved to her lips and in slow motion Axel leaned nearer until his mouth covered hers with a gentle kiss.
Chapter 7
“Has anyone seen my watch?”
Elizabeth glanced at Lars. He stood in the doorway to his bedroom patting his pockets.
Seated at the table, Axel pulled on his boots. “Nope.”
Elizabeth shook her head as she set the stack of dirty breakfast dishes into the basin and the embrace of hot water. She kept her motions slow. Finally, Lars made a sound in the back of his throat and went outside.
Axel set a hat on his head, his gaze on her. “Like I said, we’ll probably be gone ‘til after dark. The steers are up on the high pasture, and it’ll take time to move them lower. Are you sure there’s nothing you need before we leave?”
Elizabeth paused before giving her answer. It wouldn’t do to sound too anxious for them to go. “No. I’ll be fine. There is plenty for me to keep myself busy with, and I am quite used to taking care of myself.”
Axel nodded, but his face still showed unease. He took
a step forward. Paused. Then two more steps to where she stood. Hesitation showed in his eyes and movements, but he set a kiss to her forehead. “Have a good day.” He spun and hurried out of the cabin.
Elizabeth stared after him even as the door closed, an ache rising in her chest, like an icepick chipping at the corners of her heart. Ever since his kiss a week and a half earlier… Axel had gradually deepened it until she’d finally found the presence of mind to roll away from him. He’d laid down and fallen asleep quite quickly, but she’d stared into the darkness for hours, her lips still tingling from the touch of his. Like living one of her childhood fantasies.
Elizabeth swatted at the memory like a pesky fly. She wouldn’t let herself think of that kiss anymore, or what it did to her insides. Wiping her hands on a towel, she hurried to the door and cracked it open just enough to see where Axel approached his father. They both mounted their horses. As soon as they rode from sight, Elizabeth pressed the door closed and strode into Lars’s bedroom. Finally. There’d never been opportunity before—enough time alone with the box and whatever was inside without the fear of being caught.
With both men gone, Elizabeth brought the box to the table and examined it from every angle. Solid wood construction. A large lock. And hinges located on the inside. Maybe she needed to look for the key again.
An hour turned up nothing but more frustration. She would have to find a way to force her way in. An overcast sky hung above her as she darted to the barn. A collection of tools hung on the wall not far from the tack for the horses. Elizabeth hefted a large hammer, and then selected two sizes of chisels. Back in the cabin, the hammer only dented the lock. There was no way in without taking the box itself apart. Not ideal, but she needed that money.
Taking up the larger of the chisels, Elizabeth wedged it under the lid and laid the hammer to it. The money had to be in there. As soon as she had the funds, she would be able to start her new life. She’d finish with the Forsbergs and be gone. The dry wood began to splinter as the thick steel sank inside. A crack appeared along the top. Her hands trembling with anticipation, she wedged the slimmer chisel in the tiny gap and gave it a hard hit. The crevasse extended the length of the lid. She torqued on both chisels, ripping the box open and bearing its contents.
Mail-Order Revenge Page 4
