by Sara Jolene
Otto finished with the hay and made his way back through the barn and to Sophia. “Well, that’s actually two stories.” He was entranced by the way she lit up when she was in the barn. She’d truly found her place. Otto knew what that felt like and was happy she’d been able to feel it too. “When I was old enough to leave for good, I did. I traveled with the rodeo for more than enough years. But coming to Creede … that was something different.”
Sophia moved along the doors of the stalls so she could give equal attention to both Opal and Poppy. Otto couldn’t help but laugh as Opal followed her from her side of the wall. “You’ve gone and gotten them attached to you.”
Sophia turned and looked at him for the first time in a long while. Her attention had been held completely captive by the animals. “I’ve already grown attached to them, too.”
Otto couldn’t help but wish she felt the same about him. He’d been kicking himself all night and into the morning for asking her to marry him the way he did. He knew better. He had to take things slow, earn her trust. After what he’d learned about her the day before, he knew that to be true more now than ever. The image of her against the wall with Grady looming over her invaded his head, and though he tried to shake it, he couldn’t completely.
“Tell me how you came about Creede.”
He shrugged. “How does anyone come about Creede? By accident, mostly.” He moved across the barn to where his favorite horse, Ash, was muttering in his stall. He patted him on the nose. “Jealous today? Me too.” He continued to pat Ash but turned to watch Sophia. “My people were once nomadic. They’d travel this area north and south from season to season. Then the government came and pushed us onto the reservation. I grew up there, but we tried to travel a lot to keep the traditions. When I was through with the rodeo, I came home. I have a sister named Hattie, and I missed her. But there wasn’t much work for a washed-up rodeo star on the reservation, so after a short visit I left again, started traveling the old routes. Tried to figure things out. I had saved some money from my time in the rodeo, and one day I rode into Creede. The town had just burned down, and the man that once owned this livery had just been buried. He’d left behind Opal and Poppy. They were the only two that didn’t get out, and his tools and things were all here. I made the place mine and turned it into a home for myself. I haven’t looked back.”
Sophia looked thoughtful. He couldn’t tell if she was trying to form a question or just letting all he’d told her sink in. He watched her quietly until she finally stepped back from the horses and over to him.
“Do you miss your family?”
Otto gave Ash one last pat on the nose before he moved closer to Sophia. “Sometimes. But they visit when the weather is warmer, and I go to them on occasion.”
Sophia smiled, and he felt his nerves ignite as she stepped closer to him. “I’d like to meet them. Especially Hattie.”
Otto nodded while trying to think through the buzzing that had begun in his head. He started to walk toward the big open doors of the barn. “I’d like that too.”
Sophia enjoyed her day with Otto. She’d loved spending time with the horses and seeing how things worked at the livery. After she’d organized the ledgers as much as she’d planned to for the day, she went and found Otto where he was working on fashioning a new wheel for a broken buggy. He was hunched over in concentration, using tools to move the wood where he wanted it to go. Sophia watched where his shirt was pulled tight against his back. Staring, almost trance-like, she could see the muscles in his shoulders rippling as he worked. As she watched, her body started to react. She felt her fingers tingle, and her belly felt warm. The warmth rose to her face and flushed her cheeks.
“I have to make sure Mrs. Sanderson has supper.”
Otto stopped his ministrations and stood, focusing on her. He nodded. “You’ll come back, though, right? Tomorrow?”
Sophia nodded. “I will. Thank you for letting me meet Opal, Poppy, and Ash.”
“It was my pleasure.” He tipped his hat at her and went back to working on his wheel.
Sophia was pleased that Otto wasn’t trying to coddle her. She smiled as she took her leave. He trusted her instincts. He wasn’t trying to watch her every movement. She quickly unhitched Marigold from the post. She decided to walk to Beatrice and Arthur’s. She held her breath as she left the livery’s property and started toward town. The road was clear. Most folks were fixing supper or finishing up daily chores, so there weren’t many people out and about. Sophia puffed out the breath she’d been holding.
The journey to the Jamesons’ home was short. They didn’t have a post outside of the house, but Arthur had one outside of the telegraph office, so she hitched Marigold there before gingerly knocking on the door. She knew that babies could be a handful, and she’d overheard more than one mother talk about letting sleeping babies sleep. She didn’t want to chance waking the little angel that Beatrice and Arthur had adopted.
She was proud to call Beatrice her friend. Not many folks would take in a baby that had been left on their doorstep and raise it as their own. Especially when they were so newly married.
Arthur opened the door with a grin. “Miss Perkins! Wonderful to see you. Do come in.”
Sophia thanked him and stepped into the immaculate little house. In the short time they’d been married, Beatrice had done a lot with their home. She’d really made it her own.
“Beatrice is in the kitchen with the little one.”
Sophia knew the way and found herself standing in what looked more like a bakery than a kitchen.
“I thought I’d pay a visit on my way back to the cabin. Is there anything I can do to help?” She was silently praying there wouldn’t be. She still hadn’t perfected anything in the kitchen and didn’t want to take the chance of ruining any of Beatrice’s hard work.
Her friend looked at her. “Thank you. Maybe you could pick up the baby?”
Sophia smiled. She looked at the little tot sitting on the floor next to her mother. “She’s beautiful.” She bent down to pick her up.
“Did you spend the day at the livery?”
Sophia nodded, but only halfway because she was nuzzling the baby to her cheek.
“I heard about Mr. Grady. Are you alright?”
“I am. Mr. Clay came to my aid.”
Beatrice turned away from whatever it was she was working on. “And how did your day go with Mr. Clay?”
Sophia smiled. “It was truly the most wonderful day.”
Chapter Seven
She barely slept that night. It was horrible trying to keep her mind from racing. The last few days had been a whirlwind. She’d been able to cook an edible breakfast, she’d had her first day at the livery, and she’d spent some time visiting with a friend. But the picture she couldn’t shake, the one that kept replaying in her mind as she lay there staring at the ceiling, was Otto in the corral with the stallion. He’d been so at ease, so calm. She loved how strong he was and how she could see his muscles through his shirt, yet in the next moment he was gentle and kind, taking the time to soothe a frightened animal. She spent most of the night replaying the scene in her head until sleep finally claimed her.
When the sun rose the next morning, waking her, she found that a new sense of peace had settled over her. She had made some decisions while she’d lain there during the night, and they seemed so right that putting them into motion felt as easy as could be.
She cleaned up and got dressed, taking care to make sure that her dress was pressed and clean. She woke Mrs. Sanderson and once again attempted—and succeeded—at making them both a lovely breakfast. Sophia sat and quickly brought to her mouth, chewed, and swallowed a forkful of bacon before speaking.
“I have to go to Creede again today. Would you like me to get you a new book to read?” Sophia wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but even her voice sounded different.
Mrs. Sanderson fed herself some of the eggs, scrambled this time, that Sophia had made for her. She nodded. �
�Please.”
Mrs. Sanderson didn’t speak much. Sophia wasn’t sure she’d ever heard her complete a sentence, but she said enough to get her point across. She knew the old woman had been reading a lot lately and was happy that she’d have something new to bring her home this evening. She was so happy, she felt like she needed to spread it around. She wanted everyone to be as happy. After taking her time cleaning the kitchen and washing each dish, she headed to the barn.
Midnight wasn’t in her stall. She was wandering the length of the barn, pacing nervously. Sophia went to her and tried to mimic how she had seen Otto taming the stallion the day before. She put her hands on the mare’s neck and stroked her as she spoke to her softly. She let her voice fall into a smooth rhythm, and sooner than she’d dared to hope, Midnight began to calm. She stopped trying to pace and ceased bobbing her head.
Marigold was huffing and flipping her head at Sophia from her stall. “It’s alright, girls. It’s just me.” She continued to pet Midnight as she led her back to her stall. “What’s got you two so riled up?” She tucked Midnight into her stall and closed the gate. She kept some oats in a bag hanging on a single nail above the stalls. She reached for it, and both horses were vocal about it. “I’m getting it. You’ll both have some,” she told them as she reached into the bag, then brought her hand in front of Midnight. Holding it flat so the horse could get to the grain, she laughed as Midnight’s tongue licked her hand, trying to be sure she’d gotten each and every kernel off.
Sophia left Midnight and repeated the gesture with Marigold. She had a milder temperament, but she was also more jealous. She snubbed Sophia’s handful of oats when she first held it out to her. “Come on, now. You know I love you both. Eat this, and we’ll saddle up and go see Mr. Clay.”
It took her a moment but Marigold came around. Sophia had to feint leaving first, but eventually the mare licked her hand clean of the grain just as the other one had.
Her hand free of oats, Sophia went to the tack room to ready the saddle for Marigold’s back. She found the door open, then stopped in her tracks when she noticed that the straps of the saddle had snapped. She thought back to the night before and all her actions when she’d returned from town. The saddle hadn’t been like that when she’d stowed it for the night. How could it have broken? Better yet, how was she to get to town? She’d be terribly late if she walked.
Sophia stared at the unusable saddle for a long time before deciding she’d do what Otto had done the other day. She’d ride Marigold to town without a saddle. Otto had done it, and though she knew it wouldn’t be easy, she figured she could make it work. Finding the bit and bridle intact, she took it to Marigold’s stall, placed it in the horse’s mouth, and led her out of the stall. She used the same milking pail she always used to help her into the saddle—but instead of using it as a leg-up into the stirrup, she used it to give herself a few extra inches when she jumped onto the horse’s back.
Riding without a saddle was even less fun than she’d thought it would be. By the time they topped the hill, she was ready to dismount and walk. She had no protection between her bottom and Marigold’s muscles and bones. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk when they arrived at the livery.
She sighed in relief as Creede once again came into view. That relief was short lived, however, because as she got closer she noticed there was a small group of men standing just outside where The Nugget used to be, and she was sure that Archibald Grady was one of them.
She wouldn’t soon forget the set of his shoulders, or the way his arms seemed a tad too long for his frame. Every inch of him was etched into her mind. It screamed at her now.
Predator.
Sophia sat as straight as possible on the horse’s back. She prodded her gently to move faster. She was terrified to have the horse run, but being sore and bruised might end up being preferable over another encounter with the slimy Mr. Grady. She let Marigold trot and build speed slowly. Just before they reached the start of the charred remains, she prodded the horse faster and Marigold responded. She must have felt Sophia’s fear, because she’d never seen the horse move so fast. Nor did Sophia have to guide her. The mare blew past the men now hollering behind her and headed straight for the livery.
Whoever was riding toward him was doing so quickly. He closed the gate on Ash and turned toward the road. His heart immediately plummeted to his feet. Sophia, flushed and teary-eyed, was riding toward him at breakneck speed. She had reins but no saddle. Her dress was covered in dust, and tears were running down her cheeks. He hoped the tears were from the cold wind that had to be assaulting her face. Marigold didn’t slow until she reached the fence just outside the entrance to the barn. Otto ran to them and opened the gate. Marigold stepped inside, but before she even fully stopped, Sophia was in his arms. “Yes. Yes,” she cried out.
His breath caught in his throat. Sophia had knocked the wind from his lungs as she fell from Marigold’s back. She was certainly in a panic, and so was the horse. The mare seemed calmer now that they were inside the fence, but Sophia was still quaking in his arms.
With her snug against him, he lifted his head and looked for incoming danger. He spotted them then, Archibald and a few others. He couldn’t put names to all of them, but if they were hanging out with Archie, they were up to no good. His heart started to race. Had they attacked her? Where did Marigold’s saddle go? If they’d stopped her, how did she get them to let her go? All sorts of questions and horrible scenes passed through his mind.
“Sophia. What happened? You’re safe now.”
He tried to make his voice as calming as possible, like he did with the young colts or the stubborn stallions. He tensed as Tecu popped up beside him. He wanted to scream at the angel. He’d said he’d look out for her, that she wouldn’t be in danger. He had to watch what he said, though. He couldn’t let Sophia know that he had been seeing a dead Indian chief, or that he’d been relying on said dead Indian chief to keep her safe. He narrowed his eyes at the angel.
Tecu shook his head. “She was never in danger. They chased her is all. They didn’t touch her. Marigold ran too fast.” He placed a hand on Sophia’s back. Otto felt the girl’s heavy breaths slow and lighten. “She’ll be alright, but a decision must be made. There are things happening. I can’t be everywhere, even though it seems like I should be. Keep her close.” Tecu backed up a step, and Otto nodded.
He tightened his grip on Sophia and asked her again, “Are you alright?”
Sophia stiffened in his arms. She made to lean out of his embrace. Otto looked down at her tearstained face. “I’m good with you right here.”
Sophia shook her head. “I keep doing this. I rely on you too much. I’m overstepping boundaries and generally not behaving like a lady. People are watching. We shouldn’t be touching.”
He shook his head. “I don’t care that people are watching. I’ve asked you to be my wife. You haven’t answered me, so I’m going to continue to hope that the answer won’t be no. But I need you to know that you’re safe here, that you can come to me. That I’ll protect you.”
Sophia let a tear fall. It left a streak against her chapped cheek. She shook her head. “You shouldn’t have to. I should be able to protect myself.”
She had stopped pulling away, which made Otto think that despite her words, maybe she’d softened to him and the idea of not having to be so independent. “Lack of strength in a given moment doesn’t always have to equal weakness.”
Sophia stared at him for a long time. He didn’t mind though. The longer she stared, the longer he could as well. He had her in his arms, and he was reluctant to let her go. She felt right there. He was beginning to see his life as a bunch of small pieces that somehow found a way to fit together.
“I won’t be weak anymore.” She shook her head. “You giving me something—someone—to rely on makes me weak. I can’t go back there. I can’t be that girl again.”
Otto let her words burn as he processed them. She had strength that she coul
dn’t fathom. She was one of the strongest people he’d ever met … and not because she was bullheaded and wanted to do things her way.
“Strength isn’t physical, Sophia. Strength comes from here.” He put a hand against his heart. “You are the strongest person I know. You’ve lived through things that would have crushed others. You were locked in a cellar and left to die in a fire, yet you emerged—not broken or battered, but victorious, with a new sense of purpose. You set out to change your life.”
She shook her head. “If I’d been stronger, the bad things wouldn’t have happened. I could have stopped them.”
Otto let his arms loosen. He hated letting go of her. She fit perfectly against him. But he needed to make her see. He put a hand on either side of her face and held her there, locking her eyes with his own. “You were a child. You were a scared child who had just lost her parents. You needed to be saved then, but you don’t anymore. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed someone the most, but I hope you’ll let me be there for you now. It was not your fault. There was nothing you could have done differently. You survived, and that is what’s important.”
Tears were streaming down her face. Otto wanted to kiss her so badly … his entire body seemed to be screaming for it. But he didn’t. Instead, he used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away her tears. She was muttering, trying to get something out between sobs. “Shh … everything is alright. You’re safe. We’ll handle the rest.”
Sophia started shaking her head furiously. “No. No ...” She was finding it hard to catch her breath, and those were the only words she was able to get out.
Otto cradled her head in his hands. “You don’t …”
Sophia reached up between them, and while taking big breaths, put a finger across his lips. “I’m trying to tell you something.” She stopped to take in a deep breath, one so huge that her chest expanded, causing the two of them to touch. Otto froze. “I already said yes,” she let out with a long exhale.
