Frontier Secrets

by Anna Zogg

  He gave a gruff humph before reaching for his book.

  Content that he would continue to tolerate her ministrations, Ellie returned the bottles to her medical bag and then wandered to the window.

  Rain streaked the windows and turned the ranch yard into a mud vat. That didn’t seem to bother the chickens. Some of the braver ones were out, scratching for bugs and worms.

  Ellie sighed, reminiscing over how much it resembled Fort Laramie and her first real look at Wyoming Territory. Hard to believe that had been almost two weeks ago. Despite her uncle’s gruffness and stubbornness, the ranch felt more and more like home. Besides, he was the only family she had left. Her mother’s nearest relative had passed away about the time Grandmother Tess had. The only one left on her father’s side was his brother, Uncle Will.

  Thank You, God. This seemed a good time to silently express her humble gratitude.

  “You’re sorry you came.” Her uncle’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Aren’t you, Sunshine?”

  Ellie turned. “No. Not at all.”

  “Your expression.” He paused, frown deepening. “It was sad.”

  She moved closer. “I was thinking about how grateful I am that I still have family. You.”

  His jaw jutted as he stared into the fire.

  She thought that was the end of the conversation, but he surprised her by saying, “You think I’m harsh. Maybe even cruel.”

  She pulled up a chair, taking care how to answer. “Sometimes.”

  “In this part of the country, a man’s gotta be tough. Decisive. I wouldn’t have survived if I hadn’t.” His mouth spasmed. “Wish I had been years ago.”

  Ellie had no idea what he meant. However, she sensed she should merely listen.

  “Like a buncha folks, I took advantage of the Homestead Act and got my hundred-and-sixty acres. Didn’t want to be a farmer, but I knew I could ranch. Those first years were rough, but this place was thriving. I bought more land. I was all ready to...” He paused, something changing in his face.

  Ellie rested her fingers on his forearm. “What happened?”

  “Outlaws.” Mouth hardening, Uncle Will stared into the past.

  “They attacked the ranch?”

  “A group of men—the Walker Gang—sought shelter here after a robbery. Apparently other ranchers had protected them in the past and they figured we would too.” Sighing, he shook his head. “I wasn’t here, but the Johnsons were. When they refused to provide accommodations, the gang torched the place. You’ve seen the burned-out hulk up the road a little ways, haven’t you?”

  “Yes. I wondered about it.”

  “The gang killed some of my best horses. Ran off cattle. Hurt some folks.”

  Ellie took in a slow breath, afraid to even imagine the scene. “Where were you?”

  “In Cheyenne. Getting ready to travel east, as a matter of fact. As soon as I heard what happened, I turned around.” The downturn of his mouth seemed to indicate there was more to the story than he was sharing.

  “Were the men ever caught?”

  Uncle Will shifted in his chair. “Yeah. The leader was hanged, although I wasn’t part of the posse. Heard two others eventually met their end. Don’t know about the rest.”

  That should have been the end of the story, but Ellie sensed he was holding something back. “At least justice was done.”

  “Justice?” He snorted with derision. “Justice should’ve included my getting to Chicago. Before it was too late.”

  “Too late? For...?”

  “For everything.” He turned to her, face twisted with long-buried pain. “So pardon me if I’m not all that interested in going to church.”

  Ellie drew back. Where had that come from? She waited, but he said nothing more.

  Had Uncle Will a wife or child who had died in the attack? As far as she knew, he had never married—but she sensed there was a deeply personal pain tied into the experience. Did he hold God responsible?

  As she remained dumbstruck, Uncle Will’s and Rhett’s similar stories struck her. Except Rhett didn’t seem to blame God for the evil that had come upon him. From what she’d observed, his faith in and love for the Lord had grown stronger despite all his trials.

  Expression softening, her uncle covered her hand with his. “I hope you don’t mind the comparison, but just now you look like your mother. With that sad look on your brow. Like your heart is breaking for me. And I appreciate it.”

  One of the reasons Ellie had come to Wyoming Territory rushed back at her—the letters from Uncle Will to her mother.

  “Were you in love with Mama?”

  If she had smacked her uncle with the pillow, he could not have looked more stunned.

  He finally answered. “Yes.” His mouth twitched. “How’d you guess?”

  “I found some letters. That you wrote. To her.” She rushed to explain as her uncle’s face grew pale. “I discovered them when I was emptying my mother’s secretary. Before I sold everything.” When he didn’t respond, she added, “I’m sure my father never saw them.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed several times. “Did you read them?”

  “Part of one. Then I...” She bit her lip. “I felt like I was intruding on your privacy. So I stopped.”

  “They’re destroyed?”

  “No. I—I brought them with me.” She met his gaze. “In case you wanted them back.”

  He pondered her words but shook his head.

  “I’ll give them to you,” she hurried to say. “Right now. You can keep them. Or throw them into the fire, if you like.”

  When she rose, he grabbed her hand. “No. Don’t.”

  Slowly, she regained her seat. “What would you like me to do with them?”

  For the longest time, he didn’t speak. Ellie watched him struggle with his answer. Finally, he said, “I want you to read them. And then we’ll talk.” He nodded as though to emphasize the rightness of the request. His fingers, still clutching hers, relaxed as he caressed the back of her hand. “I’d like that. Very much. Would you do that for me?”

  Inexplicably, tears rose to her eyes. “Of course.”

  He sandwiched her hand between both his. His fingers caressed her knuckles several times before he spoke. “I want you to, Sunshine.” He repeated himself, a faraway look in his eyes.

  For the first time since her arrival, Ellie felt like she was truly seeing her uncle.

  After supper that evening, she retrieved the four letters and laid them out on her desk. Taking a deep breath, she opened the one with the earliest postmark and sat on her bed to read.

  “My darling Adel,” the letter began. “I know of your engagement to my brother. I beg you not to think me presumptuous for writing to you.”

  Uncle Will went on to describe his first meeting with Adeline and how he could never forget one detail of that evening. Did she not feel the same? The missive ended with him imploring her to end his agony by agreeing to see him again. He would watch for her at her box at the theater. One nod and he would know how to proceed.

  Gulping, Ellie picked up the next letter. This one sounded very different.

  Will urged Adel to proceed with caution and hide her feelings. They were being watched. Frank was becoming suspicious. Tess, Adeline’s mother, would certainly oppose the breaking of the engagement. More than once, Tess had let it be known that she favored the soon-to-be rich doctor, not the rough rancher.

  The third and fourth letters were very short.

  “Yes or no?” was all one said.

  And the fourth one had one line. “Coast clear? Candle.”

  Heart hammering, Ellie sat back against her pillows. Yes or no for what? And what did Uncle Will mean by Coast clear?

  The late hour kept her from asking him about that now. And because she couldn’t, she dug out her mother’s diary.
>
  Ellie needed answers. Now.

  Hands trembling, she opened the book to page one.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rhett trailed the wagon that carried Ellie and the foreman to town. Because two of Bartow’s men accompanied them, Rhett made certain to maintain a fair distance between himself and the group.

  They were all going to church. Or so the foreman said. Somehow Rhett got the feeling that only he and Ellie were really interested in their destination. However, the boss insisted that Bartow drive her. Rhett had overheard the last of their conversation as Marshall escorted his niece from the house.

  And she had agreed—though none too happily.

  On the way, the foreman worked hard to chat with Ellie, but she seemed disinclined to talk. In less than thirty minutes, he gave up. By the time they reached Casper, Bartow seemed more than happy to drop her off at church.

  “I’m leaving the wagon here since I got my horse.” Bartow’s voice rang loudly enough for Rhett to hear.

  Pretending not to listen, he moved to tether Wash behind the church.

  Ellie spoke to the foreman. “You’re not coming inside?”

  “Nah. Got somethin’ more important to do.”

  Her expression said it all. What was more important than worshipping God? However, relief seemed to take the upper hand, evident in her face.

  Bartow tugged on his hat brim in a farewell. “I’ll be back around four to drive ya home.”

  Four? Rhett’s ears pricked up. Ellie must have something planned after the service if she intended to stay in town that long.

  Staying in the shade of the church building, he watched the foreman unhitch his horse, then grab his gear from the back of the wagon. In minutes, he saddled his mare, then he and his two buddies disappeared down the street.

  Ellie turned when some women greeted her. Together they went inside the church.

  Rhett waited as congregants flocked through the open door. After the service began, he slipped in the back. Most folks paid him and the riffraff that lingered by the door no mind. The service began with congregants singing.

  Tension slowly ebbed from him as the words to beloved hymns echoed through him. Spafford’s “It Is Well With My Soul” soothed the familiar ache of missing Mr. Callaway and his childhood friends, all who had died in the same incident. Again, Rhett was grateful that his ma and the elderly preacher had married despite the difference in their ages. During the years his mother had been the man’s housekeeper, her attitude had transformed from bitterness to love.

  She often said that though they were married ten short days, the joy they shared had been enough for a lifetime.

  As Rhett sang, his gaze focused on Ellie, sitting close to the front. Several young women of the area sat near her. He liked watching how they flocked around her. Last week, her face shone as she chatted with them.

  Today, however, Ellie seemed more pensive. He noted how her bonnet often tilted back, as though she fixed her gaze on something above the preacher. Was she considering the hand-hewn cross in the front? Her head would often bow as she seemed to reflect on a thought. From his vantage point, he couldn’t see her face. All during Pastor Charles’s message, Rhett watched her, praying for a way to comfort her troubled soul.

  After the sermon, he slipped out the back when the congregation began to sing. He made his way to the livery where he had to take care of some unfinished business.

  “Howdy, Mr. Rhett.” Ira appeared from around a horse.

  “Hey.” Rhett nodded a greeting. “I was wondering if you’d seen Pete recently.” The stagecoach driver sometimes attended church but was absent that morning.

  “Nope. Think he headed up to Billings yesterday. Want me to keep a lookout?”

  “Sure. Let him know I need to speak with him about the horse I took.”

  The young man bobbed his head. “Oh. He said he settled with the stagecoach company.”

  “Good.”

  “Still want me to give him a message?” Ira’s eyes gleamed.

  Knowing the young man hoped to get paid for his help, Rhett grinned. “Sure. Tell him to find me at the Double M Ranch.” He turned and pretended he was about to leave, but swiveled back and flipped a coin at the lad.

  Laughing, he caught it. “Thank you, sir.”

  “No. Thank you.”

  After Rhett exited the building, he pondered where to go. Church had not yet let out. While he considered his options, he noticed Bartow and his two buddies down the street. They were speaking to none other than Mr. Tesley, the businessman from Fort Laramie.

  The four of them appeared deep in conversation. About what? Doubtful Will Marshall instructed his foreman to do business on a Sunday. The only other option was that the meeting was personal. But from what Rhett knew of Tesley, it seemed unlikely these cowboys had anything the businessman would want.

  A glance at the sun’s position showed that a couple hours yet remained before the foreman would drive Ellie home. Curiosity getting the better of him, Rhett moved toward them. When Whitey, Bartow’s closest friend, looked over his shoulder, Rhett cut down an alley to avoid being seen. He inched closer, flattening his back against one building.

  “I’ve handled that amount before,” Tesley boasted. “No problem.”

  Bartow responded. “Then it’s a deal?”

  “You just let me know when and how many. I’ll tell you where.”

  The sound of a match striking indicated that someone was smoking.

  Rhett edged closer, catching sight of Bartow’s large hat as he faced Tesley.

  “And, naturally—” the foreman lowered his voice “—this remains between you and us, right?”

  “That’s right. Nobody else needs to know.”

  Bartow stuck out his hand, which the businessman shook. “I’ll drink to that.”

  Chuckling, the men headed down the boardwalk toward the saloon, away from Rhett’s location.

  He eased back from the meeting spot before circling back toward the church. The rise of voices indicated that the service was over.

  He had almost reached the building when rough hands grabbed him and shoved him against a building. A bony forearm pinned him against the wood planking.

  “Where you been sneaking off to?” Whitey shoved his face into Rhett’s.

  Before answering, he considered. With one quick twist, he could slip out of Whitey’s hold. An easy enough move. Rhett stared into narrowed eyes. “Nowhere.”

  However, he felt obligated to warn Whitey—in a subtle way—that this would be the only time he would lay hands on him. Maintaining a relaxed stance, Rhett moved slowly until his hand rested on the handle of his hunting knife. “I noticed you weren’t in church either.”

  Whitey snorted. “Bartow said we didn’t have to go.”

  Bartow? Not the boss?

  The man’s choice of words confirmed Rhett’s suspicions. Whitey—and likely several other men—considered Bartow the true boss of the ranch. Not Will Marshall. A dangerous situation for the owner and his niece.

  From his peripheral vision, he could see church folks gather at the mouth of the alley, watching the confrontation. However, none intervened. And Whitey seemed not to notice the onlookers. Or care.

  The pressure against Rhett’s chest grew. “I ain’t gonna ask you again. Where ya been?”

  I should not answer a fool according to his folly, or I will be like him.

  The proverb popped into his mind. Rhett raised his voice so that those who gawked might hear. “I was reflecting on Proverbs 26:4.”

  “Huh?” The ranch hand’s confusion quickly transformed into irritation. “Speak plainly, dunderhead.”

  “You should read the Good Book. It might make you wise if you heed it.”

  “Why you mealymouthed...” The ranch hand drew his gun and jabbed the tip under Rhett’s ch
in. “It’s high time someone taught you to speak respectfully to your betters.”

  “And how do you intend to do that?” As Rhett spoke, he scratched his ear as a distraction. With his other hand, he carefully drew his knife.

  “Thinking of rearranging your brain.” Whitey jabbed the gun upward. “I just saw a wanted poster, with your face on it. Why don’tcha explain how that’s possible?”

  What? Confusion gripped Rhett. Impossible. Surely any ancient posters of his father would be long gone. Where’d one come from?

  “Let’s you and me head around the side of the building.” Whitey’s voice grew silky. “There we can have a nice chat without upsetting the womenfolk.”

  The man had to be bluffing. Or spreading rumors to justify his actions.

  Rhett considered. One swift move and he could draw blood before Whitey got off a shot. But that one move would very likely kill. There’d be no coming back from that. Not to the ranch—and not to Ellie.

  * * *

  “No, I’m sorry.” Ellie paused at the back of the church. For the third time she explained, “I need to get back to the ranch. But thank you.”

  Last Sunday, Mrs. Rushton had invited her to join the family for dinner, and she’d accepted. But that morning those plans had changed when several congregants announced they were hosting an all-church feast. A small family meal, Ellie could have handled, but a banquet would be beyond her. Ellie didn’t feel very festive—not after reading Uncle Will’s letters. Those, combined with Mama’s diary, weighted her heart. All she wanted was to go home and weep for her mother’s lost love.

  “You’re staying, aren’t you?” One elderly woman smiled as she grasped Ellie’s arm.

  “Not this time.”

  “What a shame. We’re having such beautiful weather.”

  Ellie mumbled an excuse and managed to extricate herself. Outside the church, she paused, trying to figure out how to find Guy so they could leave early. A nearby crowd drew her attention. At first, she planned to skirt it, but then she realized Whitey seemed to be the focus of the group.