by Dalia Wright
Annie got dressed and washed her face in the fresh basin of water that had been left for her and slowly made her way downstairs. Annie walked towards the sitting room where she was sure she would find Brighton waiting, but the room was empty, and the lamps had not been lit that day. She wandered around the enormous house until she finally came to a swinging door that she assumed belonged to the kitchen. She opened the door and found Celia standing, peeling potatoes at a small kitchen table.
“Well, good morning, Miss Annie,” Celia said kindly. “I will make you some breakfast.”
“Thank you,” Annie said with an air of disappointment. “I was wondering if you could tell me where I could find Brighton. He said he would wait until I had woken up before leaving.”
“Oh, yes,” Celia said, reaching into the front of her apron and pulling out a key. “Master Brighton told me to tell you he couldn’t bear to wake you this morning and that he had to get to town before McShaw noticed he was missing. He said to give you this key; it opens the door to your surprise. Go to the second floor and it is the third door on your left. Oh, and I will bring breakfast up to you since I have been told you probably won’t leave that room all day.”
Annie took the key with a look of suspicion at Celia’s chuckling face. She turned slowly but then bolted in excitement towards the stairs and up the bannister. She counted the rooms to her left and placed the key in the door, slowly turning the doorknob. As the door flew open, Annie couldn’t believe her eyes; it was a library full of books. There were even ladders that would allow her to climb to the top of the ten-foot bookcases to get down leather-bound copies of some of the most amazing books from all over the world.
Annie took her time picking out a stack of them and plopped down on the large armchair in the middle of the room. She became so engrossed in her books, she barely noticed Celia bring breakfast up, or lunch for that matter. Annie sat in the library all day without a thought of McShaw or the town or anything but the lines in the books she was reading. Before long, the room began to darken as the sun set and Annie stood up stretching and turning the lamp higher so that she could see the words better.
A knock came from the open doorway and Annie looked up to see Brighton standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe, smiling wide at the books that were now spread out in front of Annie on the floor. Annie, without thought, jumped up from the floor and ran across the room, throwing her arms around Brighton and hugging him tightly. Brighton stood there for a moment, taken aback by Annie’s excitement, but then wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her into the air, squeezing her back. He sat Annie down and she blushed, realizing her excitement had gotten the best of her.
“This was,” Annie said panting, “the best surprise I have ever received. I could live in this room.”
“Well,” Brighton said, rubbing his head, “if I get that kind of greeting from you every day, then I’ll build you ten libraries.”
Annie and Brighton looked at each other awkwardly and then burst into laughter. Brighton motioned for Annie to follow him and he led her to a dressing room at the back of the hall. Annie stepped in, and Celia was waiting for her with a smile and a rack full of dresses.
“What is all of this?” Annie asked, confused.
“Well, since we take back your town tomorrow, I thought it would be fun if you had a real, formal dinner in the Cantori Estate before you leave us for the farm life,” Brighton said with flushed cheeks.
Annie blushed and nodded as Celia shooed Brighton away from the room and closed the door. Brighton stood patiently for what seemed like hours outside of the chamber while Celia prepared Annie for her first formal dinner. Finally, Brighton heard the doorknob turn and quickly swivelled to face the door, nervously straightening the jacket he had put on. As the door opened, so did Brighton’s mouth at the sight of Annie standing demurely in the light of the lantern.
Annie’s blonde hair fell in ringlets around her shoulders and was pulled partially back to keep from falling in her eyes. She had applied a slight rouge that made her pale skin glow and the white powder around her eyes made them seem bluer than the ocean. Annie’s dress choice was from an island south of Italy, and it was very risqué for the Old West, but she wore it with class and charm. The neckline scooped down, and the edges of the neckline barely sat on her shoulders. The dress was a sparkling blue and fell straight down to the floor. Her face shimmered brighter than the dress as she saw the look on Brighton’s face. He reached his hand out to her and tipped the edge of his brimmed black hat. Annie giggled and gently took his hand as he led her down the master staircase and into the dining hall.
The grand dining room looked even more elegant with hundreds of candles lit all across the room and the sitting area had been converted into a dance floor where three of the men Annie saw earlier gardening were now dressed and playing violins. Instead of leading Annie to the large table, Brighton kept walking towards the large glass doors at the back that led out onto the balcony. There was a small table set for two with candles stacked along the gilded railing. Annie looked up at Brighton with excitement and sat sweetly in her chair as he pushed it in underneath her.
The only male help Annie had met besides the gardeners came to the table dressed in the finest black uniform with tails, and poured Annie a glass of white wine. Annie smiled at him and took a sip of her wine, looking around her and noticing that small chandeliers had been hung in the garden below, illuminating a path she hoped she would get to walk through later. Annie turned to Brighton with an expression of excitement and gladly took his hand as he reached for it.
“Annie,” Brighton murmured. “You are such a woman. I spoke with your father at length today about you and the farm. We are leaving at dawn to take down McShaw and then you can return home.”
“That’s great news!” Annie said with excitement. “I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”
“Your father told me you would want to come,” Brighton said chuckling. “He told me not to try to stop you. McShaw put out a notice in town that he was giving you 24 hours to show up, and he would forgive you. He still thinks you are hiding in town.”
“Yeah, right,” Annie said, snorting. She put her hand up to her mouth in embarrassment realizing how forward she had spoken.
“You are like fire,” Brighton said laughing. “I have very much enjoyed the time we have spent together, and I wanted to ask if you wouldn’t mind if I stayed in town for a bit and spent a little more time with you.”
“Oh,” Annie said, surprised but pleased. “I honestly couldn’t think of anything better.”
“Wonderful,” Brighton said with excitement. “Now, I am starving. Let’s eat!”
Annie and Brighton sat on the porch, talking and laughing as they ate their dinner and drank their wine. Annie felt completely comfortable there with Brighton, the same feeling of protection she got at the farm, but with an added spark of excitement. Brighton loved how open and honest Annie was and how her spirit lit up the porch brighter than any candle he could have placed there.
After dessert, Brighton took Annie’s hand and led her down the terrace steps and into the garden that was lit as if it were an enchanted forest. They walked closely, and Brighton listened as Annie talked about her idea of love, of life, and of her future. Her eyes lit up with the candles in the moonlight and Brighton couldn’t help himself any longer. As they approached the fountain, Brighton reached for Annie’s hand and turned her towards him. He stepped in closer and Annie gulped down her nerves as he took her face in his hands. Slowly, he moved forward, meeting her lips with his, and a feeling that Annie could only have imagined erupted inside of her.
After the kiss had ended, Brighton pushed Annie’s blonde ringlets from her shoulders and sat next to her on the edge of the fountain as she gazed at the reflection of the moon in the water. They had, somewhere amidst the chaos and fear, fallen in love with each other and Annie couldn’t be happier. Brighton walked Annie back into the house and to the b
ase of the staircase where he gently kissed her goodnight and, without a word, walked back into the study.
Annie beamed with happiness, and she nearly floated up the staircase and to her room where she quickly got dressed for bed and tucked herself into the softness. She watched the lights flickering outside of the window from the garden, and all she could think about was how she had fallen into one of the romance stories she used to read at the farm. She hugged one of the many pillows that covered the bed and watched the stars twinkle in the sky. After a few moments enveloped in her world of romance, Annie began to think about the next day and showing McShaw that he couldn’t bully her town and get away with it.
Annie thought about what would happen if things got violent, she thought about protecting her mother from all of it, and how she was so excited to see her father again. Annie knew McShaw wouldn’t go down without a fight, but she wasn’t sure about the Sheriff and the Mayor, who always seemed cowardly to Annie, even before the days of McShaw. As these thoughts streamed through her mind, she slowly fell asleep, love resonating in her chest and nervousness encompassing her mind. Tomorrow was the day she finally stood up for what was right.
Chapter 7: Annie and the Smoking Gun
Annie was up and dressed even before the service staff was moving around, except for Celia, who never seemed to sleep. Energy surged through Annie in a way she never knew before, and she wasn’t sure whether it was because she was getting ready to take her life back or because she had unexpectedly fallen in love with a blue-eyed boy from two towns over. Whatever the reason, Annie was on a mission, and she couldn’t wait to get these events started.
Annie tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen to grab an apple and some fresh water. She walked out into the garden and sat on the edge of the fountain, thinking about what her life would be like if she chose to marry Brighton. Sure, his house was beautiful, he never tried to calm her down or filter what she said, and books would be her world, but the thought of being so far away from the farm hurt her heart. Before Annie could talk herself out of love, she looked up at the terrace and saw a tall, beautiful man dressed in black pants, boots, a button-up shirt, and a tight fitting vest, all of which showed off the muscles he had gained from working out in the hot sun with McShaw for the last several months. Annie’s heart skipped a beat, and she realized none of the other stuff mattered if she could be by Brighton’s side.
As if Brighton could hear Annie’s thoughts, he zeroed in on her gingerly sitting on the edge of the fountain dressed like a cowgirl in brown riding pants and a top that resembled a corseted dress, the back flowing down past her knees. Annie’s hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and that same yellow ribbon was tied tightly in a bow. Annie could see Brighton wave at Annie, and she smiled as she took a bite of her apple. She stood up and walked towards Brighton as he ascended the staircase and jogged towards Annie with a smile. They met in the middle of the fruit tree path and their lips met without thought.
“Are you ready for this?” Brighton asked as he pulled back and looked deep into Annie’s eyes.
“I have been ready for this since McShaw stepped foot in my town,” Annie said with defiance.
Brighton and Annie grabbed their satchels of belongings and headed out to the stables to ready their horses. The sun was not yet up, and it still seemed like the middle of the night even though the birds had started to awaken and begin their morning songs. It would take a few hours to get to Annie’s parents’ farm, but Annie was looking forward to the long ride since she hadn’t been able to take her horse out in a couple of days.
They started their journey at a slow pace, making sure to save their energy for what lay ahead at the farm. The plan was to meet Annie’s father at the farm where the rest of the townsmen from Brighton’s town would congregate as well. Then they would move into the town, led by Brighton and his Sheriff, to confront McShaw and his gang of lawbreakers. Apparently, no one in Annie’s town was told about the uprising because they had reached a political point where Annie’s father, Richard, wasn’t sure whom he could trust anymore.
It wasn’t long before Annie and Brighton had accumulated a following of horses since his townsmen had caught up with them on the road. They travelled in silence down the dusty trail as the sun began to peek over the horizon. There were, surprisingly, several women in line who, after hearing of Annie’s bravery, decided they couldn’t just sit by and let this injustice ensue. Annie rode along the trail with pride beaming from her face, knowing she had inspired other women to stand up for themselves and others.
As the sun got higher, the brigade picked up their pace and Annie began to recognize the scenery around them from growing up just minutes down the street. It wouldn’t be too much longer until they made the turn onto her parents’ farm road and she would be back home, ready to get rid of McShaw once and for all. Annie was a little nervous despite the brave face she wore. Thoughts of what could go wrong played over and over again in her mind and she started to get a little jumpy. She looked over at Brighton and realized he had been watching her this whole time, ultimately confused by the nerves she was now letting loose on her face. She shook her head and smiled to let him know that she was okay.
Annie’s horse snorted, and she looked up at the turn-off coming up ahead; it was the road to Annie’s freedom, the path to the farm. Annie and Brighton looked at each other with excitement and brought their horses to a faster stride. The large group behind them noticed and caught on to the pace.
Meanwhile, standing in front of the Potter farmhouse were McShaw, the Sheriff, and the Mayor. They had come to remove Annie’s family from the farm, and they had no intention of hearing out Richard, who was trying to stall them for the time. McShaw had already declared the deal off and had ordered the Potters out of the home immediately. Richard stood beside his wife in front of their home in defiance, hoping they would see the brigade before it was too late. McShaw reached forward and grabbed Annie’s mother by the arm, ready to move her from her firm stance on the porch. Richard reached forward and began to push McShaw away, when from the corner of his eye he could see the dust billowing from the ground in the distance.
McShaw, noticing Richard and the Sheriff were occupied with events behind him, turned around and squinted into the distance. As the two horses grew larger in sight, they realized it was Annie and Brighton riding high and fast towards the farm. A grin broke across McShaw’s face, and he snorted loudly.
“Well, looks like she has changed her mind,” he said hastily. “But no matter, the deal is off. Maybe if she is lucky, I’ll let her clean my floors when I knock down this piece of trash you call a home and….”
The Sheriff grabbed McShaw’s arm and twisted him back towards the horizon. The smirk slowly slid off of his face as line after line of horses emerged from over the hill, charging towards the farm at full speed. Annie’s parents stepped back onto the porch, and Richard shielded his wife from the dust blowing up into their eyes. Clouds of dust billowed around them as the horses did circles around McShaw, the Sheriff, and the Mayor, who had their faces tucked into their shirts for protection. As the dust cleared, the three men looked up at the two people ahead of the pack who pulled bandanas down from around their noses and scowled down at them. It was Annie and Brighton, and once Annie noticed McShaw’s hand on her mother as they were driving towards the house, anger shot through her like a flood.
“What’s the meaning of this?” McShaw shouted as he puffed out his round belly in defense.
“You have been taking our land, charging us for what we have built with our hands, and bullying our daughters, and we are here to say enough is enough,” Annie said as she moved her horse closer to McShaw.
“Oh yeah?” McShaw scoffed. “And who exactly is going to stop me? Some little girl and group of unruly townsfolk from another town?”
“I am,” a deep voice stated from the back. A large white horse moved to the front and the Sheriff of Brighton’s town, Sheriff Troy, emerged, one hand on his gun
and a large cigar clenched in his teeth.
“Now, hold on,” Annie’s Mayor said as he stepped forward. “You have no authority here, and I believe it would be in your best interest to move on.”
Sheriff Troy’s face began to grow red, and his brow became furrowed as he tossed the reins of his horse to Brighton and dismounted. He was a large man, muscular, and about two feet taller than the Mayor. He sauntered with no fear in him whatsoever, toward the Mayor until he was so close the Mayor was staring directly at his chest.
“Is that a threat?” Troy questioned.
“Uh,” the Mayor began to speak with a trembling voice and backed up slightly until he realized there were horses all around him. “No, sir. Maybe we have been acting a bit hastily with these folks. How about we just get rid of this contract, and we can all be on our way?” The Mayor went to turn toward Richard and Jane Potter, but Troy's hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks.
“I think,” Sheriff Troy began, “that we should take a little ride over to my town. You, me, your Sheriff, and Mr. McShaw have some treasonous business to talk about. In fact, it’s not a request; it is a demand.”
Sheriff Troy motioned to the back, and four riders pulled forward and dismounted their horses, armed with guns and chains. The Mayor and the Sheriff had looks of horror in their eyes and immediately dropped their high stance and allowed themselves to be handcuffed to the horses. McShaw, however, was a different story; his pride began to glow, and Annie could quickly tell that he wasn’t going down without a fight. As the crowd's eyes were focused on the men being shackled, Annie watched as McShaw slowly began to raise his hand towards the breast of his vest, where his gun holster sat. Before Annie could put much thought into it, she reached over and grabbed the gun from the side of Brighton’s horse and pointed it at McShaw.
