by Eden Carson
“You’ll just give me this land?” Ruth asked.
“It’s not mine to give,” he explained. “No one has laid claim yet to that pasture. People are still scarcer out here than land. There’s still good acreage to be had, if you’re willing to work your hands to the bone to keep it. But I’d be here to help you, Ruth. And our neighbors are good people, every last one. A woman with your intelligence and gumption could do well.”
“I’ll think about it,” she replied, secretly wondering how she might ever settle land of her own, with the quiet fear of a murder charge hanging over her head.
“You do that,” Jackson nodded, satisfied the seed of an idea had been planted. “In the meantime, come for a swim with me. You can see clear to the bottom, the water’s so pure. It might be our last chance before the cold sets in.”
“It’s too cold now,” she said, as memories of their time in the meadow flooded her body with heat.
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged his shoulders and started to undo the snap of his pants.
“I’ll turn my back,” she offered.
“I wish you wouldn’t,” Jackson replied. “I think it’s past time you got used to the sight of me naked.”
“What on earth for?” Ruth blurted out in genuine bewilderment and a bit of pink-cheeked embarrassment.
“I plan on seducing you so you’ll stay and marry me,” he offered, never taking his gaze from Ruth’s startled eyes.
He said it so matter-of-factly that it took a few deep breaths to sink in. Ruth’s blush deepened along with her curiosity. Was he serious? She knew from personal experience that marriage was a purely practical matter in most parts of society, but especially so out west, where women were scarce. But as far as Jackson knew, she was promised to someone else. Did things work that way here?
“But I’m promised to someone else.” Ruth decided she could be practical and blunt, too, when the occasion called for it.
Jackson didn’t hesitate to pursue his claim. “To someone you’ve never met. You told me yourself that your aunt made that promise. Promise me instead.”
Ruth looked into Jackson’s eyes and could see he meant every word. And nothing had ever tempted her more than this strong, serious protector offering her the life she’d always wanted.
He took advantage of her moment of weakness and pulled her in close for a kiss. He grazed his warm lips over hers, surrounded her in his strong arms, and settled in for a long siege. Whatever it took to convince her to stay with him, Jackson thought, he was willing to do. He could feel her wavering, and every instinct said she felt something for him.
Ruth closed her eyes and let herself bask in the dream of what might have been, just for a few moments. She knew she should stop, but couldn’t pull away from the warmth of his lips and arms. For the first time in more years than she could count, she felt nothing inside but comfort and heat – and what she thought just might be the first stirrings of love. No fear, no worries about how she was going to feed her mother and herself. It was just like sinking into a warm bath after a night in the freezing woods, hiding from soldiers. She wanted nothing more than to bask in Jackson’s heat for as long as it lasted.
He pulled her even closer, aligning her curves more closely with his hard body. He trailed his lips across her cheek and whispered into her ear. “You know nothing about this person, but you already know that I can and will protect you, whatever it takes.” He clamped his teeth gently on the lobe of her ear, smiling to himself as her breath caught in surprise and wonder. “Stay with me, Ruth. I promise you’ll never regret it.”
The echo of her aunt’s parting words to her was unintended, but as effective as a fiery sermon on a Sunday morning. Her aunt had said the same thing about Ruth marrying a rich man. She’d never regret it. Well, she’d yet to meet her husband, and had nothing but regret behind her.
And the reminder that she was married, in the eyes of the law and the church, brought her guilt crashing down. She pulled away from Jackson.
He was baffled by Ruth’s sudden struggle to pull away, but instinctively let her go. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, I just can’t. I want to – I do. But I just can’t. I know you don’t understand, but please trust me on this. There’s no way out for me. I’m promised.”
She turned away and nearly ran across the field. Whether to hide her tears of regret from Jackson or to prevent her from changing her mind, even she wasn’t sure.
Chapter 46
“Up and at ‘em, Miss Ruth,” a deep voice whispered. “It’s time to feed the chickens and pigs.”
Ruth snuggled over to her other side, thinking the dream she’d been having about Jackson was lovely until he started talking about livestock.
“I’ve got hot black coffee. You can keep yourself warm in my arms on the ride up, if you’d like.”
Whether it was the sound of Jackson’s voice or his teasing suggestion that penetrated the fog of sleep, Ruth finally registered his presence in her room and sat bolt upright in bed.
“What are you doing in my room? Get out! It’s not proper.” She demanded in sleepy outrage, tucking her warm blankets as far under her chin as she could manage. If only she could cover her blushing cheeks, she thought, glaring at Jackson’s spreading grin.
“Technically, you’re in my room, Miss Jameson, but we’ll let that one pass since you haven’t had your coffee yet. Do you want me to leave, or do you want your coffee in bed?”
She opened her mouth to order him gone, but snapped it shut again in defeat when she caught the smell of the rich, dark brew as Jackson deliberately wafted it under her nose. The snake, she thought.
Jackson shrugged his shoulders and turned to leave the room, only to be stopped by Ruth’s outstretched hand peeking from beneath the tightly clutched covers.
“It’ll be my pleasure to serve you in bed,” he couldn’t resist adding.
She deliberately ignored him while she inhaled the rich aroma and sipped herself into some semblance of wakefulness. Only after half a cup did she realize Jackson’s heavily muscled thigh was still in her line of sight. She lifted her gaze and realized the sun had yet to crest the horizon.
“What on earth are you doing here this early? Sue won’t be serving breakfast for another hour yet,” Ruth remarked, more curious than annoyed now.
“We have a long ride ahead of us,” he explained. “I want you to meet Mrs. McCormick.”
“Another woman?” Ruth observed. “For there being such a shortage in the West, you seem to have your share nearby.”
Jackson laughed outright at her suspicious comment. “I’ve been a saint with every woman here.” At Ruth’s raised eyebrows, Jackson amended his claim. “Present company excepted.”
“Turn around, so I can get dressed,” she commanded, “since you seem to be lingering.”
Jackson did as she requested and gave her his back, but continued talking. “Mrs. McCormick is the school teacher I was telling you about. Catherine McCormick. Although I confess that I do try and attract women here, so that the men that come will stay and settle the place. Catherine was a teacher who needed a place to call home, and we were in need of a school.”
Ruth was surprised at this statement. “Are there many children nearby?”
“Not yet,” he replied. “But we’re gaining ground on that first requirement. Why just this week I believe I’ll have convinced a certain young woman to stay on and contribute to the school’s class size.”
“Jackson, you’re delusional if you think I’ve not only decided to stay on, but to mother your obstinate children.”
Ruth’s last comment was somewhat muffled as she pulled a borrowed wool dress over her shift.
“But you haven’t decided not to stay.” He solicitously handed Ruth a scarf and heavy coat. “That means we’re making progress, and I’m an infinitely patient man.”
Chapter 47
As they approached the unadorned cabin, the front door slammed open and three heads of blond
hair streamed down the front porch into the dirt yard, coming to a sudden halt at the sight of Jackson and Ruth. The combined shrieks of excitement of three young girls had Ruth’s mount a little skittish. Her soft voice and firm hand on the reins reassured Caboose that the noise was no threat to him, and he instantly calmed. A good thing, Ruth thought, as the girls jumped up and down in impatience and joy at the sight of Jackson
“Hello, Mr. Jackson. Did you come to see Papa about the new room he’s building me?” The question was asked by the daintiest child Ruth had ever seen. Her delicate build did not appear to be something she was aware of, as she launched herself full-force into Jackson’s arms before he’d finished dismounting.
The next girl up in size remained fixed in place on the edge of the porch, quietly adding that the new room was not exclusively for her tiny sister. “Mama and Papa promised there will be enough room for all of us to have our own bed when everything is done,” the older sister pointed out.
With the squirming sprite tucked safely under one arm, Jackson ignored the older sister’s more reserved nature and scooped her up under his other arm. “I heard you’re being put out in the barn with the pigs, so your mama can have some peace and quiet in the house.”
Jackson winked at the eldest girl, who was blushing to the roots of her hair at the mere sight of him.
Ruth could see the girl was at an age where embarrassment was as common as breathing when any creature of the male persuasion was within ten feet. Ruth couldn’t help but smile at the life before her, where joy and safety had created such beautiful children.
The barn door slammed open next, and two boys lumbered over to join their sisters. They were children still, but the oldest was nearly as tall as Ruth.
“Hello, boys. Come over here and meet Miss Ruth, your new neighbor.”
Ruth tugged impatiently on Jackson’s sleeve, insisting in a whisper, “I am not their neighbor–just a visitor.”
The young sprite of a girl overheard and interrupted, “But Miss Ruth, Mama said just yesterday that you were staying, and that Mister Jackson was bound to fall under your spell. Then you would get married and have a girl for me to play with real soon.”
Jackson laughed out loud while Ruth blushed to the roots of her hair.
“Amelia, you stop that right now,” her older sister admonished. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“But why not?” Amelia asked. “Mama said things like that, just yesterday. And Miss Sue bet her an entire Sunday of washing that Jackson would win Miss Ruth over in less than a month. But Mama said no, she thought the new lady was made of sterner stuff, and would hold out until winter.”
The other siblings were all shuffling their feet in the dirt. Their eldest sister finally grabbed Amelia out of Jackson’s arms and clamped a hand over the sprite’s mouth.
“I’m here on business with your Pa, and to introduce Miss Ruth to your Ma,” Jackson explained with a wink. “In case she decides to stay.”
Jackson took Ruth’s arm in his to lead her up the porch steps, but not before whispering in her ear, “Between you and me, I’ve given you a full four weeks, but wouldn’t think of spoiling their fun.”
Ruth restrained herself from elbowing the man outright for his boldness, but only because small children were present, and their mother chose that moment to greet them at the front door.
“Jackson, come on in. Feel free to lock the door behind you, as my children have chores to finish and no more time to chatter off your ears.” Catherine followed her comment with a stern glare, which got her children moving back toward the barn, quietly grumbling their protest.
Jackson ushered Ruth forward. “Catherine, allow me to introduce you to Miss Ruth Jameson. Ruth, this is Catherine, our resident school teacher, and most prolific mother.”
Catherine took Ruth’s hand in welcome, then led her into the kitchen, where a fire in the stove warmed the room. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ruth. I feel like I know you already, the way Sue speaks of you. I hope you don’t think we’re too gossipy here, but we get so few visitors, much less a female to chat with. And a brave one, at that, I hear!”
Ruth knew Catherine meant well. Her open expression held nothing but genuine curiosity at the recent tales of battle on the train. But her own guilty secret had her hesitating to talk about the event. “It was very frightening, actually, and I wasn’t brave at all - just desperate and scared in an unknown situation. When Jackson and the Marshals arrived, we all just followed their lead.”
“Don’t you believe her,” Jackson said. “She was preparing to shoot two of the robbers, long before she knew we were even there.”
Catherine made a shooing motion in Jackson’s direction. “Go on now, Ruth can tell her own story. My man is expecting you. He’s up the north fork of the stream checking traps. Take one of the boys with you, and they’ll show you where. Ruth can keep me company while I work on dinner. I sure could use the adult conversation,” Catherine added, looking toward Ruth.
Ruth couldn’t help but smile in response to the woman’s open welcome, even knowing she was the new favorite topic of discussion between Catherine and Sue. “I’d be happy to. But only if you let me help.”
Jackson let himself out the kitchen door in search of Catherine’s husband.
After settling Ruth near the cozy stove, the other woman had a hot cup of coffee for each of them and a half-eaten blueberry pie on the table, ready to serve. “My oldest girl made this. She’s becoming quite the cook, and I’m counting the days until she can take over this chore entirely.”
“You don’t like cooking?” Ruth asked.
“Don’t like it? I hate every tasteless morsel of it. I’m a school teacher through and through, and should probably have lived life in a big city.”
“Why didn’t you?” Ruth asked.
“My first husband was why. He was a brute of a man, with no redeeming qualities. He manhandled his own children until I came along. And when I stood up to him, he beat me, instead. I wasn’t one to keep quiet, so he up and took me and the kids out west, so I wouldn’t have any family or friends close by to help. If I hadn’t already been pregnant with his child, I wouldn’t have gone.”
“Good God. How awful,” Ruth commiserated. “What did you do?”
Ruth desperately wanted to hear this woman’s story. It clearly had a happy ending, and that thought gave Ruth hope that even her own situation could be fixed.
Catherine glanced out the kitchen window to where her kids were playing.
Noticing Catherine’s action, Ruth quickly added, “I don’t mean to pry –”
Catherine shook her head. “I don’t mind sharing my story. In fact, I’ve found it’s good for me. And it’s good for other women to know they can fight back, and sometimes, just sometimes, get justice.”
She took another sip of coffee before continuing. “The oldest kids know the details – at least what they can remember of it. But the youngest two don’t. Amelia was still in my belly, and the youngest boy doesn’t remember his Pa at all. My first husband, Carl, was a widower with four children when I met him. He lived in the neighboring town and was well off, owning the only blacksmith shop in the area. His first wife supposedly died of a fever – at least that was the story my folks had been told. So he was considered a good catch for me. I’d only known him a few weeks when my father agreed to his proposal.”
Catherine stirred her coffee unnecessarily. “Carl was different when people were around, especially my family. We all thought he was a wonderful man, and felt sorry for him trying to raise four kids on his own. The truth was, he beat his children for the smallest offense. The first time I witnessed it, I stepped in and he knocked me across the room.”
“My God,” Ruth gasped, accidentally tipping her cup over.
Catherine jumped up to grab a rag and started wiping up the spill. She motioned Ruth back into her seat. “It’s better if I have something to do while I tell the story.”
“Please, you
don’t have to finish,” Ruth insisted. “Not if it brings you pain. I know how unpleasant memories can be.”
“I want to tell you,” Catherine said quietly. “If you’re going to stick around you’ll hear the gossip sooner or later. I’d rather have the details come from me.”
Ruth watched as the older woman topped off both coffee cups, and then returned to cleaning the stained table with a rag.
“I’d just married him three months before,” Catherine continued. “He cried in my arms the next day, claiming it was the whiskey. He swore on the Bible that he’d only started drinking when he lost his first wife, and he promised he would quit. I believed him, because I was already pregnant at that point. He begged me to start a fresh life in a new town, where memories of his dead wife wouldn’t haunt him. I didn’t know what to do. My parents had fallen on hard times when my father became ill, and they didn’t have the money to support me and a child. And then there were Carl’s kids. I had sworn before God to care for them as my own, but had no right to take them with me. So I went with my husband. We all went, and slept scared for the longest time, waiting for him to pick up a bottle.”
Ruth took Catherine’s hand in hers, not knowing what to say.
Catherine smiled her thanks and continued with her story. “It’s a funny thing – he never did take a drink again, but he took his fists to his oldest son within a month, for talking back. Jacob was only eleven and didn’t stand a chance. I heard the yelling, and when I ran into the stable, Carl had Jacob on the ground, kicking him over and over again. I told the Sheriff I panicked, but really, I was so very calm. I was never one to take things lying down, and at that moment, I figured Carl had gotten one more chance from me than he deserved. So I grabbed the nearest weapon – the hammer we used to shoe the horses – and struck him as hard as I could across the head. Lucky for us all, the first blow killed him.”
Ruth remained silent, not knowing if she should voice her opinion that Carl got what he deserved. Even without saying anything, though, Ruth felt Catherine was a kindred spirit. “I understand, more than you’ll ever know. And those kids should be as proud of you as I am.”
