Falling into Your Arms (Love in the Old West Book 3)

by Bess McBride

  Sarah looked to her right to see Faith hurrying toward her, skirts flying, and Agnes following behind at a more determined pace. Faith reached Sarah’s side and slipped an arm around her waist.

  “We heard what happened,” she repeated. “How terrible for you! You look so distraught, dear. Come, let us take you inside.”

  “Who left you standing out here?” Agnes asked more practically.

  “No!” Sarah said, planting her feet. “No! I’m on my way to the train station. I have to buy a ticket.”

  Faith and Agnes followed Sarah’s eyes.

  “Now? Today? There is no train today, dear,” Faith said. “You heard about the explosion, didn’t you?”

  “I know, I know, but I have to buy the ticket today because the station agent said they might sell out for tomorrow.”

  “Where are you going? You are in no shape to travel,” Agnes said. “Just look at you! You’re shaking. You’re pale. Your hands are all scratched up. How did that happen?”

  “Running in the desert. I have to travel tomorrow. I really need to get home. My plants—” Sarah shook her head. Yes, of course her plants needed water, but what a silly thing to say.

  “Plants?” Agnes repeated. “Whatever are you talking about, girl?”

  “Nothing,” Sarah said with a shake of her head. She had to admit, though, that her fear had lessened with the arrival of the sisters. “It’s time for me to go. You know I was stranded here.”

  “Oh dear,” Faith murmured. “I hoped you would see it differently now that you had been here awhile, but I can imagine that yesterday’s events probably soured you on Benson.”

  “You really think you’re well enough to travel a great distance?” Agnes asked with a quirked eyebrow. “You know, the time travel?”

  “Agnes!” Faith protested.

  “Yes, I’m fine, Agnes. I have to go. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t tell me. I’ll bet Jeremiah will be unhappy. Where is he, by the way? We heard he took a good pounding to the head,” Agnes said.

  “Agnes,” Faith protested.

  “He is still at the ranch. He was sleeping when I left.”

  “And you left him there?” Agnes asked.

  “Left him there?” Sarah repeated, her back stiffening. “What are you implying? He’s in good hands. He was in no shape to travel. Even the doctor said he shouldn’t travel for a day.”

  “Why didn’t you stay with him?” Agnes asked. “He would have stayed with you.”

  Sarah gasped. “Agnes!”

  “Agnes, dear, Sarah has already said that she needed to return to town to purchase a train ticket for tomorrow,” Faith said. “Please do not be too hard on her.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Agnes said. “I just—”

  Sarah, consumed with guilt for abandoning Jeremiah when she knew he would not have left her, waited as Agnes paused.

  “Agnes has a special place in her heart for Jeremiah,” Faith said. “We both do, but Agnes just dotes on him.”

  “I didn’t realize that,” Sarah said.

  “My sister is exaggerating,” Agnes said dryly. “I don’t ‘dote’ on the boy. His mother asked us to look after him, and we do...silently. He’s never given us cause to worry before.”

  “I think he’s going to be okay,” Sarah said. “He’s just woozy and really needed more rest. He was going to come back to town with me this morning, but he fell asleep while waiting for me, and I didn’t want to wake him. I’m sure he’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “I’m not worried,” Agnes protested. “Just...concerned.”

  Sarah wanted to point out that there was no difference in the emotions, but Faith beat her to it.

  “That’s the same thing, Agnes.”

  “I have to go,” Sarah said.

  “Why don’t we accompany you?” Faith asked. “You look so pale.”

  “I’m all right. I was just nervous stepping outside. Since the robbery last night, you know?”

  “All the more reason why we should accompany you. We were just on our way to the general store for some sewing thread, but that can wait.” Faith tucked her hand under Sarah’s arm, and Sarah knew she wasn’t going to escape the sisters.

  They crossed the road and entered the train station. Henry, standing behind the counter, looked up. “Good morning, ladies,” he called out in the perpetually empty station. “What can I do for you?”

  “Good morning, Henry,” Faith said as they approached the counter. Agnes acknowledged the agent as well.

  “We are here with Miss Chilton, who is going to buy a ticket,” Faith said.

  “I do not know if you have heard, but there was an explosion—”

  “Yes, yes, we know, Henry!” Agnes snapped. “Everyone knows. Is the track fixed? Will the train come tomorrow?”

  Henry blinked. “I do not know for certain, but I hope so. I think so.”

  “That’s not very reassuring,” Agnes muttered. “This is Miss Chilton. Supposing the train is up and running by tomorrow, can you sell her a ticket for tomorrow?”

  “I remember you, Miss Chilton. A ticket to Richmond, correct?”

  “Yes.” Sarah’s forehead broke out in a sweat. “The thing is—” She glanced at Faith and Agnes.

  “Do you have the fare this time?” Henry asked. He probably didn’t mean to embarrass her, but his reference to “this time” tipped the observant Agnes off.

  “This time?” Agnes repeated. “What does that mean?” She looked at Sarah, who looked at Henry, who watched them all.

  “I came to ask about a ticket yesterday, but I didn’t have any current money...I mean currency on me.”

  “You were going to come this morning to buy a ticket. I believe you were with Mr. Stone?”

  “Well, that makes perfect sense,” Faith said. “You left your things on the train. Did Jeremiah loan you the fare money?”

  Sarah could have died. “He didn’t have a chance.”

  “Oh!” Faith replied.

  “I can’t issue you a ticket without the proper fare, Miss Chilton,” Henry said, looking sympathetic but sounding irritatingly firm.

  “I know, I know. I was just wondering if you could—” Sarah paused and swallowed hard. Henry had already said no. “I can bring you the money in the morning. I’m just so worried that you’re going to sell out.”

  “That is a real concern, Miss Chilton. I have one ticket left.”

  Sarah’s heart skipped a beat. “I want it!”

  “I can’t sell it to you without the fare.”

  “Dear, dear,” Faith fretted. “You know we would help, Sarah, but Agnes and I do not receive our allowance from the trustee until the first of the month. That is two weeks away.”

  “Faith,” Sarah said mournfully, “please don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

  “What if the ticket is sold? You can wait for the next train, can’t you?” Agnes asked.

  Sarah drew in a breath to automatically say no, but she paused. She drew in another breath and released it slowly. Then another.

  “Yes, I guess that would be okay,” she said, calming with an influx of oxygen. Her plants would survive, she had coworkers who filled in when she was gone, so she didn’t need to get back to work anytime soon. No one really waited for her.

  “The next train is on Tuesday,” Henry said. “The explosion has thrown the schedule off a bit. You’ll want to get your ticket as soon as possible. Those might sell out fast as well. A lot of people got stuck by the accident.”

  “Okay,” Sarah said.

  “That’s that then,” Faith said. “Good day, Henry. Say hello to Maude for us.”

  “Will do,” Henry said, getting back to the business of fiddling around with his counter.

  Sarah followed Faith and Agnes out the door. “How about some tea, ladies?” she asked, feeling oddly liberated by the delay of her departure.

  “We already spent our tea money for the week,” Agnes said starkly.

  “Agnes!” Faith remonstr
ated with pink cheeks. “It’s true, Sarah, but I suppose we could have worded that more graciously.”

  “My treat,” Sarah said audaciously.

  On the point of crossing the road, Faith and Agnes stopped and stared at her.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Sarah said, “but I’m kind of on a meal plan, and Jeremiah would never deny us some tea.”

  “No, of course he wouldn’t,” Agnes said, as if insulted. “But we never impose.”

  “Okay,” Sarah said. “I’ll just go have tea by myself in the dining room.”

  Faith chuckled. “No, of course you will not. We would be delighted to have tea with you.”

  They crossed the road and entered the hotel. Eric looked up.

  “Good day, Eric,” Faith said. “We’re going to have tea with Sarah.”

  “Enjoy yourselves,” he said with a smile.

  The women walked into the dining room to find it already busy near eleven o’clock. They found a spare table and sat down.

  “You are going to eat, right?” Sarah asked. “I know I’m going to. I’m starved.”

  The sisters stared at her as if she had transformed, and in a way she thought she had. She could feel a certain lightness of being, as if she weighed less, had more energy.

  “Should we?” Faith asked.

  “I really don’t like to take advantage,” Agnes said.

  Nancy approached from the kitchen, carrying three menus. “Miss Chilton,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I was shocked to hear what happened to you. I do hope that you are okay.”

  “I’m fine, thank you. And Jeremiah is on the mend. I’m sure he’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Eric told me.” Her eyes dropped to Sarah’s hands. “It must have been a terrible ordeal.

  “I hear they’re in jail?” Sarah asked.

  “Yes, they are, and a good thing too,” Nancy said. She looked up at new people arriving. “It’s unusually busy today. I will be back to take your orders.”

  Nancy left, and the three women perused their menus.

  “Good to see ya up and about, miss,” a crackly voice said from behind.

  Sarah looked up to see Elias standing near. His clothes were clean, though still the worse for wear, and he looked like he had bathed.

  “Elias!” Sarah jumped up and wrapped her arms around his skinny frame.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Now hold on there, miss!” Elias said, pulling her arms from his neck. “There’s no call for that.”

  “Elias! I’m so glad to see you,” she said, allowing him to wriggle out of her grasp. “Thank you for saving me.”

  “No need,” he said, his tanned cheeks dark with embarrassment. He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down at the carpeted floor.

  “Hello, Elias,” Faith said.

  “Elias,” Agnes said in a considerably more curt tone, enough for Sarah to look at her. The small woman returned to staring at her menu, holding it up.

  “Faith, Agnes,” Elias said, nodding in greeting.

  “Have you heard anything about the scoundrels who did this to our Sarah?” Faith asked.

  Sarah could have smiled at the possessive term, but her attention was focused on Elias’s answer.

  “They were going to ship them off to the courthouse in Tombstone this morning,” he said. “Then probably prison.”

  “But they’re gone?” Sarah asked, resuming her seat.

  “I think so.”

  Relief made Sarah’s bones gel, and she smiled widely. “Have you come to eat, Elias? Join us.”

  “No need,” he said. “Just going to grab a bite.” Sarah noticed that he looked at Agnes...or at least what could be seen of her behind her menu.

  “Please sit with us, Elias,” Sarah said more firmly.

  Elias pulled out the fourth chair and sat down, albeit ill at ease. Agnes held her menu higher.

  “Here, Elias,” Sarah said, handing him her menu.

  “No need. I eat the same thing every time I’m here.”

  Sarah nodded. Her father had done the same thing. She glanced at Agnes, who had lowered her menu and now looked at Elias over the top. Elias fidgeted with his silverware.

  Nancy, having delivered food to another table, returned. “Morning, Elias. The usual?”

  “Sure thing, Nancy,” he said.

  “Are you ladies ready to order?”

  They were, and all three women ordered. Nancy didn’t bother to write anything down.

  “Nancy,” Faith said, her chest rising, as if she took in an unusually deep breath. “If Agnes and I have failed to mention how wonderful we think your food is, please let us say so now.” Faith threw a quick look in Sarah’s direction. “You know very well that we come here once a week because of your exceptional baking. You are gifted. I hope you know how much we appreciate you.”

  “Good cookies,” Agnes said with a sharp nod.

  Nancy stared at them, her jaw open. Her cheeks bronzed, and she shook her head, as if to shake the compliment off. “I’ll be right back with the coffee.” She took the menus and turned away to head for the kitchen.

  “Well done, Faith,” Sarah said.

  Faith blushed. “It is never too late to learn good manners.” She turned to Elias. “We hear that you rescued Sarah last night, Elias. How did you know what happened?”

  “Was in the saloon. Overheard the boys talking about waylaying a carriage and making off with some money. I’d seen Miss Chilton and Mr. Stone leaving and had heard them say they were going down to Samuel Treadwell’s ranch for dinner. Put two and two together. Alerted the sheriff before I set off after the carriage.”

  Sarah put a hand over Elias’s, but he pulled his away quickly. Her feelings weren’t hurt.

  “Foolhardy thing to do,” Agnes muttered. “Should have waited for the sheriff to round up some men.”

  “The sheriff was busy locking the robbers up, Agnes,” Elias said in a dry tone. “No danger to me.”

  She pursed her lips. “I guess you’re right.”

  Sarah wondered about their relationship.

  “Elias found me wandering around lost in the desert,” she said. “How is Sadie?”

  “His mule?” Agnes asked.

  “Yes, she was great! My first ride.”

  “She’s a mule, not a horse,” Agnes said.

  “Sadie is fine, and she is a fine mule,” Elias said. “Better than any horse around these parts. Except for Fester.”

  Faith’s cheeks turned rosy, and Sarah gave her an inquiring look.

  “These two,” she said, shaking her head as she nodded toward Agnes and Elias.

  “I noticed,” Sarah said briefly.

  “Maybe I’m not welcome here,” Elias said, starting to rise. Sarah grabbed his hand.

  “You are!” Sarah said. “We can all get along for a meal.”

  “I don’t take kindly to insults of my mules.”

  “Technically, Agnes didn’t insult Sadie, Elias,” Sarah said. “She just said Sadie was a mule, not a horse.”

  “I know what she meant,” he groused.

  Agnes shot him daggers with her blue eyes. “Won’t get anywhere in life being so thin skinned.”

  Sarah gave Faith a helpless look.

  “They bicker,” she said. “These two have bickered since they first met.”

  “When did you all first meet each other?” Sarah asked brightly, trying to infuse some civility into the meal.

  “When Elias cut one of Agnes’s braids off in school.”

  “In school? Do you mean grade school?” Sarah looked at both Elias and Agnes, who were probably in their early sixties.

  “He hasn’t apologized yet,” Agnes said in an unforgiving voice.

  “Always laying in my inkpot,” Elias said. “Got tired of it.”

  Sarah thought about announcing that she thought the two of them should get married, but that seemed very random indeed. She merely smiled while Agnes and Elias alternately ignored each other and t
ried to stare each other down.

  Nancy returned, balancing plates and a pot of coffee in a fantastic feat of stability. She set the food down in front of them and began to pour coffee into their cups.

  A commotion at the door caught their attention, and Nancy’s hand froze in midair as several shouts filled the room. Two men stood in the doorway, pointing and waving pistols in the air.

  “Hands up!” Larry and Del shouted.

  Sarah stared in horror, then looked to Elias, who threw her a quick glance and shook his head while shrugging his shoulders.

  “Don’t know, miss” were the only words he got out.

  “Shut up! Pull out your wallets and get ready to hand them over. Jewelry and watches too.”

  “Eric,” Nancy whispered. “Where is Eric?” She set the coffeepot down on the table.

  One of the men, Larry or Del, advanced into the room to start collecting valuables, while the other covered the room with his gun.

  “Don’t have my gun with me,” Elias muttered. “In my room.”

  Sarah started to shake. Her forehead and upper lip broke out in a sweat, but she felt cold. More than anything, she wanted to crawl under the table. No, even more than that, she wanted to jump up and run out of the room—maybe to find help, maybe just to keep running.

  One male customer started to argue when the robber collecting wallets and jewelry in his hat stopped at his table. The robber raised his gun as if to hit the customer, and Sarah jumped up.

  “Stop!” she shrieked.

  All eyes in the dining room turned on her, and she cringed and dropped down to her seat again.

  “Not smart, miss,” Elias muttered.

  “Well, well, well, look who’s here, Del,” Larry said, turning from bullying the male customer.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Del said from the doorway. “Small world, huh?”

  Sarah hunched down in her chair, but it was too late. Larry was making a beeline for her table.

  “What did you do to my son?” Nancy blurted out as Larry approached.

  “Your son? Who’s that?” Larry asked, his eyes still on Sarah.

  “Eric, the desk clerk.”

  “He kissed the butt of my gun,” Larry said. “I think he’s alive. Not sure though.”

  Nancy hissed under her breath.