An Unexpected Widow (The Colorado Brides Series)

by Carré White

  When the social was over, Nathan waited for me by the wagon. I had enjoyed myself, speaking with people and dancing. I’d met a lovely man by the name of Charles Washington, who had kept me company, asking if he could see me again. I had politely declined. Sally had been there as well, but she wasn’t able to speak for long, as her husband needed to go home early. He wasn’t feeling well.

  “So, how’d it go?” slurred Nathan. “You find the man of your dreams in there?”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m full as a tick.” He patted his belly.

  “Oh, goodness. I’ll have to drive home.” I got into the wagon, taking the reins. “Come on. Get in.”

  He stood against a wood post. “Maybe I’ll stay and visit…some ladies.”

  My stomach dropped. “No, you will not. Now get in the wagon, right this minute!”

  “Don’t think I’ve ever heard that tone in your voice before.” He climbed in, sitting next to me. “I kinda like it. It’s schoolmarmish, but good.”

  “Hold on, Mr. Weaver.”

  The horse sprang to a trot, the conveyance jerking forward. “Whoa…here we go!”

  The thought of him with one of those soiled doves irritated me. My mind spun with images of him naked in bed with a woman who dyed her hair bright red. It left a sour taste in my mouth. I had little trouble driving us home, realizing that I could do this on my own, if I had to. I’d feel safer with an escort, but that was not necessary. Nathan whistled and hummed, clearly in a good mood. He shifted with the wagon, his body drifting from side to side, while his hat sat askew.

  “Nice night.”

  I glanced at him. “It is.” The house was up ahead; the lights were on downstairs, as Maria had left the lantern lit for my return. “I have a request of you tonight, Mr. Weaver.”

  “You have to be so formal?”

  “I think you should stay with me…in my room.”

  His head snapped to attention. “That’s the worst idea yet.”

  Knowing that he was inebriated, I had hoped he would be easily swayed. I dearly wanted to be in his arms again, as he was the best sleep medication I had ever encountered. He unhitched the horse, leading the animal to a nearby pasture. When he came back, he stared at me, his eyes slightly bloodshot.

  “Good night, Hannah.”

  “But, wait!” I approached him. “Can’t you…won’t you stay with me…just for tonight.”

  “You’re outta your mind. I’ve had far too much to drink. My control is gone, honey. You expect me to get into bed with you and not touch you? You think I’m gonna just hold you now?”

  “C-could you?”

  “Hell to the no.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just explained myself. I’m in no condition to be coddling you, not when you press yourself against me like you do. Not tonight. Not any night, unless you marry me.”

  I took his hand, pulling on him. “Please, Nathan. I won’t let you do something you’ll regret. I’m tired, and I know you’ll help me get a good night’s sleep.”

  “If I touched you, I wouldn’t regret it. You got that wrong.”

  “You could touch me…a little.”

  Something flared in his eyes, and then I found myself in his arms, the aroma of whiskey and tobacco clinging to him. His mouth descended to mine, the kiss nearly knocking me off my feet. This wasn’t a chaste peck on the mouth, a soft, easy seduction from a patient man. The kiss was hungry, his tongue invading me, demanding my complete surrender, which I was happy to give. I leaned into him, wanting every bit of what he offered, never having been this consumed before, or this ravished. My hands rested on his shirt, moving upwards to wind around his neck, as I pressed myself to him.

  “Oh, Nathan,” I breathed. “Come up with me.”

  “No,” he growled, pushing me away. “Are you gonna marry me?”

  “You know why I can’t marry you.”

  “Then we’re done talking. Good night.”

  He turned, trudging towards the bunkhouse, leaving me staring after him, while moonlight lit a bank of clouds above me. Feeling wretched, I entered the house, climbing the steps, with the weight of a ton of bricks on my shoulders. While changing, I replayed our earlier conversations and then the kiss…that extraordinary kiss. I would never be able to forget that kiss.

  As I lay in bed, pulling the sheet to my chin, I stared into the darkness. It was impossible living this close to Nathan and not being in his arms. Did it matter so much that he was a miner or a farmer? Were those not noble professions? I searched my heart, seeking an answer, and it came an hour later, after I had debated back and forth all the pros and cons. None of it mattered anyhow, because I was desperately in love with him.

  I nearly jumped out of bed to tell him, wanting him to know that he meant the world to me, even though he was crude and obnoxious most of the time. I relished every opportunity to argue with him. I’d never felt more alive than when I was near him. I didn’t have Frank by my side, which was something I would spend the rest of my life regretting, wishing that he had lived longer, but Ruby was correct and so was Sally. It was time to move forward…and the future looked promising.

  A little after dawn, I slid from bed. I’d hardly slept at all, tossing and turning, my mind filled with a series of images: Nathan and I in a church getting married, the reception afterwards, and then…the wedding night. I never wanted to be alone in this room without him again. I longed to write to my family and tell them the news, but I had to talk to Nathan first. After, I’d arranged my hair in a simple bun, the part down the middle. A pale blue bonnet sat upon my head, and I tied the sash beneath my chin. My dress was a basic calico, nothing too special, as I would more than likely be working outside most of the day. With a deep, fortifying breath, I prepared to face Nathan.

  Maria had been in the kitchen, because the fire was on in the stove and bread rose under a cloth on the table. I snatched a biscuit, popping it into my mouth, and then I hurried to the door, wanting to catch Nathan before he went into the fields. Without a shawl, the chill of morning seeped through the material of the dress. I hurried across grass and dirt, reaching the bunkhouse, while my heart hammered in my chest. I was about to confess the way I felt, and I knew Nathan would be thrilled with what he was going to hear. Knocking on the door, I waited for a manly voice to acknowledge me.

  “Nathan!” I pushed on the door, the hinges creaking. Peeking inside the darkened space, I noted bunk beds with messy blankets and pillows. There was no one in the room. “Oh, drat.” He must have gone to the fields already. When I turned toward the house, Jerry stood before me. “Goodness! You scared me.”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Clark.”

  “Where’s Nathan? I have to talk to him.”

  “He’s gone, ma’am.”

  “Which field is he working?”

  “None. The harvest is finished.”

  “Did he go to the privy?”

  His look was contemplative. “He went to Denver City.”

  My mouth fell open. “Why’d he do that?” The wagon was where we had left it; he hadn’t taken it. “When will he be back?”

  “He says he’s mining for a spell. He won’t be back for a long time.”

  It felt like the bottom had dropped out from beneath me. “No! I have to talk to him. He can’t leave just yet. Gosh, darnit!” I began to panic, feeling a desperate sense of urgency. “I have to stop him. Get the wagon ready for me, please, Jerry.” We had more than one horse, as I assumed Nathan took the stallion. “Get the harness on Penny. I’ll get my things.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  When I was seated, the reins firmly in hand, I realized I would be making this trip alone. It was time I exerted some independence, as Jerry had work to do. Maria came to stand on the front porch, her apron lifting with the breeze.

  She waved to me. “Be safe, Mrs. Clark.”

  I nodded towards her. “Oh, I will. Yaw!”

  I yelled, spurring the horse i
nto motion. With a determination I hadn’t felt since we had made the trip out west, I gazed down the lane, seeing the rutted road that would lead me to the city and the man I loved. An hour later, I had arrived in town, the bustle of morning traffic surrounding me. Freight had arrived; a large wagon was stationed outside the post office. After tying the horse to the hitching post, I strolled down the boardwalk towards the saloon, expecting to find Nathan nursing a morning cocktail.

  Never having been inside the establishment, I braced myself for censure, knowing that women did not frequent such places. Pushing against the duel wooden doors, which swung inwards and out, I entered. The room was spotted with customers, some sat at tables, while others were on stools at the bar. There was a row of spittoons on the floor, while the stale smell of whiskey mixed with tobacco. Two men, playing cards, stopped to look at me.

  “What can I get you, little lady?” asked a tall, thin man behind the bar.

  I approached him, clearing my throat. “I’m looking for Nathan Weaver. Have you seen him?”

  “This mornin’, before he left.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I reckon he went with them miners.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Long gone by now. They’re heading for Pike’s Peak, ma’am.”

  My face betrayed the distress I felt. “Maybe I can catch him still?”

  “It was more than three hours ago. I doubt it. You got a fast horse?”

  Such a task would be impossible. My shoulders slumped. “When did he say he would be back?”

  “Them miners are gone for weeks at a time. I’m guessing he won’t be back before Thanksgiving.”

  “Hey, pretty lady,” shouted a grizzled-looking man, sitting at the other end of the bar. “I’ll keep ya company, if ya want. Yer sure are purty.”

  Cringing inwardly, I ignored him. “Thank you.”

  “You’re that Clark woman, eh?”

  I glared at him. “I’m Mrs. Hannah Clark, sir.”

  “Sorry about your husband. Damn shame.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You gonna take up with Nathan?”

  “That’s none of your business.” I bristled at being spoken to in such a casual manner.

  “He’s mentioned you. I suspect he’s sweet on ya.”

  It was difficult to look this man in the eye. “If you happen to see him, please tell him to…come home. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nathan had been right about the need for fresh produce in Denver City. As most of the inhabitants were miners and businessmen catering to the mining industry, my crop of corn, wheat, and potatoes was greatly sought after. I’d paid Jerry and Maria, who decided to stay on a while longer. Her children had been delayed in California, and Jerry would come and go, opting to mine for gold further up the Platte River.

  I’d purchased a revolver, and Sally had shown me how to use it. We had practiced in the field, aiming at tin cans. I now traveled to and from town by myself, feeling perfectly at ease with this newfound freedom. I’d taken in a dog as well, a big friendly Labrador, who acted as my personal guardian, barking when strangers came near. He sat in the wagon while I shopped, and then he kept me company at night, sleeping at the foot of the bed. I’d named him George.

  On Sundays, I went to church with my head held high, refusing to let the judgment of others impact my need to be in communion with God. I found solace from a good sermon, and, although Pastor Bailey wasn’t nearly as talented as Frank had been, I still felt the familiar connection, that peace I needed after a long week of work.

  After a service, several weeks later, Adaline approached me; her expression was earnest. “Mrs. Clark. I’d like a word with you, if you don’t mind.”

  I turned to face her, wondering what to expect. “Yes?”

  “I need to apologize.” She seemed nervous, her eyes furtive. “Join us for tea, if you could be so kind. I have a few things I need to say.”

  Not having any reason to rush home, I acquiesced. “Very well.”

  Being the banker’s wife, Adaline’s house was tidy, yet impeccably appointed with heavily carved furniture, plush carpets, and shelves brimming with books and knickknacks. A table had been set with dainty cups and saucers, while a maid brought out a teapot.

  “Have a seat,” she said, indicating a cushioned chair. “I really need to apologize to you. I’ve been the worst sort of friend.”

  “I’m not sure that’s necessary.”

  She poured tea into a cup. There was a small sugar bowl with a porcelain creamer. “Yes, it is. I’ve been horrid.”

  I sighed. “I’ve not been without fault either. It’s been difficult getting on after Frank’s death. My judgment hasn’t always been good.”

  Her hand rested upon mine, her expression sorrowful. “I should’ve taken this into account. You’ve been through so much, my dear. You’re so young. I had a first husband, if you must know. I don’t speak about him often, but I should’ve been more sympathetic to you.”

  This was astonishing. “What happened?”

  “We’d only been married six months. He woke one day with severe stomach pains. He’d been complaining of a bad tummy for a while, but we thought it might’ve been something he ate. It turned out it was his appendix. It had ruptured, but…it was too late. By the time the surgeon got to him, he was far too infected to recover. He died the next day.”

  “I’m so sorry, Adaline. I had no idea.”

  “I was a mess after. I went to my parent’s house and didn’t come out for a year.”

  “It’s hard to pick up the pieces.”

  “I never should have judged you the way I did. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. Like I said, I’ve made some mistakes too.”

  “Are you friends with that Ruby woman now?” This thought seemed to alarm her.

  “I consider her an acquaintance. She has a story that’s not dissimilar to our own. It was a mistake to go into that…house…but I wasn’t in my right mind. What I discovered is that she is a solid woman. She’s doing what she needs to survive. She gave me some advice.”

  “Good gracious. What did she have to say?”

  “She told me a few things about men.”

  Adaline leaned in, her ears perking up. “Oh?”

  “Yes, especially about one in particular.”

  “How’s that?”

  “It’s time for me to get on with it. I know I’m supposed to mourn for a year, but…that’s not practical out here. No one will ever be able to replace Frank in my heart. He’ll always hold a special place for me, and I miss him every day. He was the sweetest man, and he spoiled me so.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “But…as shocking as this might be to you, I’ve fallen in love again. It’s not something I’m particularly proud of, seeing that my husband’s only been gone a few months, but I can’t help the way I feel.”

  Her look was sympathetic. “You don’t need to explain anything to me, Hannah. If you’ve found another man, that’s wonderful. It’s the best thing actually. You’re so young, my dear. No one expects you to live as an old widow. You’re in the prime of health, perfect for childbirth. I have every expectation of seeing you with a gaggle of children. Now, who’s the lucky man?”

  I sighed. “Well, he’s missing at the moment, but once he comes back, I’m dragging him to the church.”

  “I suspect you’re talking about that scoundrel, Nathan Weaver,” she laughed.

  “Yes, ma’am. I certainly am.”

  When I left Adaline’s house, I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. The damage I’d done to my reputation would be repaired in due course, and my relationship with Adaline was on the mend. None of us were perfect all the time, and I had certainly been in the wrong myself, but none of that mattered now. My focus was on the approaching winter and needing to get my house in order. I planned to dry, pickle, and pres
erve for the next week, while quilting blankets at night.

  If that rascal, Nathan, ever returned, I’d give him a piece of my mind for running out on me without even saying one word of goodbye. I’d been hurt after he left, blaming myself, but that had morphed into anger, feeling distinctly jilted and discarded, as if I didn’t matter at all. If he ever darkened my doorway again, he had a lot of explaining to do.

  The next day, while I hung laundry, I perceived the sound of a wagon, the jingling of a harness in the distance. I left the damp clothing in the basket, heading for the house. I wasn’t expecting visitors, but it was more than likely Maria, returning from town. On the front porch, I saw the wagon approach, with Maria commandeering the reins, although she wasn’t alone. Nathan was with her!

  I ran down the steps, striding towards them. “Where’s my horse?” He’d taken the stallion with him, and I’d not seen it since.

  “You haven’t seen me in weeks, and that’s the first thing you say?” He sprang to the ground, his boots looking scuffed. “How about a hello?” His grin was slightly crooked.

  “What did you do with my horse, mister?” I glared at him. How dare he! He’d returned looking like the blackguard he was, smiling as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “I had to sell the horse for mining supplies.”

  My mouth fell open, as anger pricked. “That was my horse! You had no business selling my property without my permission.”

  Maria had gone into the house. She seemed to want to distance herself from this conversation, although she had cast several interested glances our way.

  “I know that, but I had no choice. You didn’t pay me, so I had to make due. I’ll buy you another horse.” He stared at me; his expression remained far too jovial. “Is that a pout I see?”

  “You just left without saying goodbye.”

  “I did. If I had seen you, I wouldn’t have been able to leave.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You wouldn’t marry some poor farmer, so I went out to change that.”

  “Forget about that. Those things I said…I’ve been thinking about that a lot. I was stupid, Nathan.”