by Jo Noelle
KC removed his hat and pushed his hand through his hair, then placed the hat back on. “I thought there might be someone planning a crime when I saw that spyglass held toward the house.”
Her face softened. “Thank you for looking out for my family. It might have looked bad since you didn’t know I belong here.”
“Will you tell me your name?”
She was shaking her head even before he finished the question.
He didn’t know what came over him—well, he did. Her. But he wanted her to stay and talk to him. “I thought we might be as good as introduced since we—”
“We did not kiss,” she interrupted.
Again, the donkey brayed. KC was going to have to find a way to keep that donkey out of his business.
“I was going to say, ‘Since we were both trying to protect your family.’” He chuckled. He hadn’t thought to talk about the kiss, but he was glad she thought about it. Now, he was sure to think about it.
“We’re fine. Get on your way. Leave.” When he didn’t move, she said, “Go.” She crossed her arms and stared him down.
It was probably for the best. If he wanted to ensure her family didn’t get involved, he should leave. He twisted away and walked back around the barn toward his horse without looking behind him.
2
Eliza Turley
The spring days were getting longer, and cool afternoon light streamed into Eliza’s bedroom window as she squared her shoulders and straightened her back. She took one tentative step and evaluated. No limp. Then she took two, realizing she bobbled but only a little. She felt clumsy. Maybe if she were petite, she could hide a limp easier, but her height made her feel as if she was toppling with each step. Maybe if she walked slowly—more deliberately. Finally, she walked across the bedroom, swaying rhythmically every second step. There was no hiding it.
In fact, today it might be a little worse for having taken that tumble off her horse last night. She didn’t want to think about that and especially not about the mysterious man or his misdirected lips. She had many times during the night and several times already that day.
If she hurried downstairs, she could be sitting in the parlor when Lance arrived. She hated the look on his face as he watched her walk, like she was distasteful. He didn’t even try to hide it anymore.
For the past several weeks, he’d been saying things about it as well. “Don’t limp.” Another time, he had hissed as they walked past the mercantile, “Walk straight.” And her favorite, “Just stop.” As if it were a choice. What had been coming for months had hit the breaking point nearly a week ago, that past Sunday. “I’m not going to walk with you when you do that. I’ll meet you at the carriage.”
They had been engaged for more than a year. They would have been married six months ago if she hadn’t been abducted. She cringed at the memory. Last June, Dougal and Little Archie were collecting women to staff a brothel in Durango. She had been snatched the very day of the big fire, and as Dougal had shoved her through the door into the root cellar where the other women were hidden, he had broken her leg in several places as he tried to shut the door. Even as she remembered the event, she could feel the burning pain that radiated from her leg throughout her body, her mind fuzzy with agony. She’d laid in bed for weeks enduring the spasms of a twisted leg, the torture of slowly healing, and the agony of every shift.
The joy she’d felt when she could finally move, finally walk again, made her soar until Lance’s reaction burned her with shame. It had been hard work to regain her balance and her strength. The doctor had warned her that she’d have to use a cane months longer than she had. She’d thought Lance would be proud of all she had accomplished. She’d been wrong.
Eliza pulled her hair into a tight bun at the top of her head. He also didn’t like when she wore it that way. She smirked to herself, feeling freer than she had in a year.
He should love her without conditions. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life worried about walking. It wasn’t who she was. She looked at the clock on her dresser. He was due to arrive now. Her decision was made.
As she walked out of her room, she smelled chicken cooking for dinner. She could rid her life of Lance and then join her family for supper like not a thing had happened. She considered what to say to him. “Do you think we could make a marriage work?” No. She didn’t care what his opinion was anymore.
“It might be best if we ended our engagement now.” That wasn’t quite right either. She wouldn’t use might because she was sure it was.
“Our engagement is over.” Yes. Short and simple was best.
She reached the top of the stairs and took a deep breath. Stairs were still hard. She dropped her right foot onto the first tread then moved her left to the same step—a process she would repeat down all thirteen. In the beginning, counting each one had given her a goal. Now it was a habit—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven…
Eliza stopped. She could see Lance’s glossy boots near the door beneath his crisp black wool pants. In a couple more steps, she’d be low enough for them to see each other’s faces. She took a fortifying breath. She could do this.
Eight, nine, ten…
“You can stop right there.” Lance held up his hand toward her. “I don’t need to see the rest of your act to say what I need to.”
Eliza ignored him and continued her descent. She wouldn’t be vowing to love, honor, or obey that person—eleven, twelve…
“I don’t want to be saddled with a cripple for the rest of my life. I want to end our engagement,” he barked.
She stopped with one foot on the bottom stair and stood on her sore leg. Her voice was strong and loud. “Not more than I do. Get out.” For the rest of her life, she might cherish the shocked look that retort brought to the man’s face.
Tears stung her eyes, but she swallowed deeply and blinked. The tears were from anger and not disappointment, but she wouldn’t let him see. He stood by the door, frozen, as if not knowing what to do. Had he thought she’d shrivel or admit her injuries were a ruse or maybe beg him to marry her? Wouldn’t happen in a year of Sundays. She turned her back on him and started climbing the stairs.
When she didn’t come down for supper that night, her mother tapped on her door, then cracked it open. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.
Eliza considered saying no, but maybe she did. Her ma was a gentle-spirited woman. One day, she hoped to be more like her. Today, Eliza needed to hear something kind since all her own thoughts swirled with spit and venom. “Come in.” The metal springs squeaked beneath Eliza as she scooted over to make room.
Her ma sat down and handed her a fresh roll. “You have to eat something. There’s more downstairs when you’re ready.”
They sat in silence. Eliza didn’t know what to say. I’m glad he’s gone . . . or . . . He would have been a terrible husband, anyway . . . or . . . Truth is, I may never have the chance to marry now.
Ma tapped Eliza’s leg reassuringly a few times. “That Lance Ormston is a belly-draggin’ varmint. Good riddance, I say.”
Eliza gasped and looked at her ma. Her mouth hung open for a moment, then she snapped it shut before she laughed out loud. Maybe I’m more like her than I thought. She leaned over and rested her head on her ma’s shoulder.
Her ma continued. “You’re too precious to waste your life with a man like that. I’m glad you found out before it was too late.”
“That’s just how I feel.”
“I don’t think you know this, but your father had his heart broken before we met.”
Eliza looked up and saw Ma smiling and nodding. “It wasn’t like your situation. He was in love, and she went off and married someone else while they were engaged.”
This time, Eliza sat up and looked at her ma. Why had she never heard this story?
“If he had married her, we never would have met. That would have been a tragedy. He figured that out quickly. It was certainly a blessing in his life, and doesn’t he k
now it!”
“Thanks, Ma. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Eliza leaned toward her mother.
“You’re welcome. You’ll be twenty-one in a couple of weeks, and I’m so proud of the woman you are. One day, you’ll be glad you’ve had this experience, little bug.” Ma kissed Eliza’s forehead. “That might not be today, however.”
“You always say just what I need to hear. I’m glad you came up.”
Ma hugged her, then walked to the door. “You won’t always need me, but I’ll always be here for you.” She slipped out, closing the door behind her.
Eliza laid back on her pillow. From the time she was little, she had dreamed of a family of her own. Her little sister was born when Eliza was seven, and she’d tried to teach her to call her mama. It hadn’t worked, but she mothered the child anyway—still did.
When her cousin, Rayna, was born a few years ago, Eliza had taken care of the baby and her Aunt Taren, who’d had a difficult recovery. She’d loved pressing her finger into the baby’s palm and having its tiny fingers grip her own. She’d stroked the downy hair and kissed her fluffy cheeks. Her heart had wrapped around the little soul in her arms, and she had felt peace.
Eliza wondered if she would ever hold a child of her own. Her world had tipped that night because of Lance’s rejection of her. She realized that she might not marry if men looked on her as broken. That’s what had kept her in her room. Her body felt wrung out and weak as she cried without solace. By the early morning hours, she had given up the future she’d always thought she’d have. It seemed that she gave up a piece of herself with it. The one thing she thought she was—that thing she wanted most in life—would not be hers.
More than once, the mystery man from last night entered her mind. She quickly recognized it for the false hope it was and stamped down on it each time.
Sunrise washed her disappointments into her past, and she wasn’t going to take them up again. She would find a new purpose. She would have her own land and her own choices going forward, and that was good, too. The next morning seemed brighter, warmer, alive with possibilities. Eliza had an undiscovered future before her, and the dread was buried.
When she came in from her morning chores, she sat at the table for breakfast. Ellis ducked his head and shoveled oatmeal into his mouth.
It wasn’t like him to be so quiet. As twins, they had a special bond, almost a sense about the other one. If he would look at her, she would know what he was hiding. “Out with it,” she said as she dribbled honey over her oatmeal.
“Nothing.” He still didn’t look up.
Eliza wondered if it had anything to do with her coming back so late two nights ago or if it was about listening to her sniveling instead of sleeping last night. Probably the crying. She didn’t want to talk about the midnight ride or even think about how it made her cheeks warm—’cause it did.
“I’m okay, Ellis. In fact, better than okay. Our birthday is coming up, and I can hardly wait for us to file for our own homesteads.” She took a bite, expecting him to glance her way and give her a sly smile. Nothing. “I don’t think Lance wanted to homestead. I’m glad it’s over.”
“I didn’t like the man, not one bit, but if you were going to marry him, I’d decided to hold my tongue.” Then Ellis added, “You’re too good for him.”
Her younger sister, Kailin nodded in agreement.
“Our whole family concurs,” Eliza said.
Ellis’s eyebrows lifted with surprise. One side of his smile tipped up.
“You, me, and Mama.” Eliza ate a spoonful of gruel.
“Add me to that list,” Dad said as he sat down at the table. “Glad you dodged that sidewinder.”
Eliza had no idea her family felt strongly against the man. “And why didn’t anyone tell me you didn’t like him before?” She looked around the table. None of them piped up to answer as the silence stretched.
“If he’s a member of the family, we have to like him. Since he’s not, we don’t,” Kailin said.
“You too?” Eliza asked.
“Yup.” Kailin took a bite of bacon, then answered, “Love you. Not him.”
Before they stood from breakfast, Pa made work assignments. Eliza wasn’t surprised that all her assignments were easy on her leg. Pa planned it that way each day.
Eliza went about her work until just before the midday meal. She was sweeping the sand out of a rug on the front porch when the red delivery wagon from the Jacksons’ mercantile rumbled down their road. “Ma, they’re here with our order,” she called into the open door before she walked out to greet them.
John Jackson and Willie Meeks waved. Willie called out, “Mr. Jameson asked me to deliver this telegram to your pa.” When they pulled up close to the porch, they jumped down from the seat and another man climbed out of the back.
Eliza couldn’t believe her eyes. Maybe she was mistaken. She squinted with a sideways glance. Nope. It was him—the man who knocked her from her saddle. Only, in the daylight, he was . . . memorable. He had features she hadn’t noticed last night—strong jaw and chin, the piercing blue-gray of his eyes beneath eyebrows a few shades darker than his sand-colored hair. She looked closely, appreciating his full lips and straight nose. Gawking. She realized that’s what she was doing when his smile broadened further, defining his chiseled features. She shook her attention away from him, feeling her cheeks burn.
Willie stood holding a telegram in one hand waving it as if to get her attention. “Will you tell him? Is he home?”
“I’ll get him.” She walked inside, glad to be out of the man’s presence, to let her dad know.
When she returned with her father, Willie handed him the telegram. The men had unpacked most of the sacks and boxes. The stranger was watching her. His eyebrows pinched toward the bridge of his nose. His mouth was in a straight line, and he looked curious.
Then she realized what he was looking at—her, limping as she walked back.
He threw a sack of oats over his shoulder and walked to the porch near her. As he set it down, he said to her, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you last night.” After he put the sack down, his head tipped up, and his eyes were round with concern.
She was touched by his sincerity. Sooner or later, he’d learn the truth. “You didn’t. But thank you,” she replied softly.
He nodded as he straightened, clearly not believing her response.
Her father had finished reading the telegram. “Seems I’m going to need to hire some help for a few weeks, John. Do you know anyone looking?”
“I am, sir,” the new man answered instead of Mr. Jackson. He pulled his hat off and held it in front of him. He offered his hand to Eliza’s father. “KC Murray, sir.” They shook hands, and he slipped his hat back on.
Eliza panicked. He could not work on their homestead. He was too . . . too… Oh, dang. Her mind found a dozen ways to finish that thought. Her favorites were handsome, daring, strong, interesting, definitely distracting. And none of them were a good reason why he couldn’t help around the farm except they were all the reasons she wanted him at the farm. So much for swearing off men!
“Well, we can’t steal you from Mr. Jackson. I’m sure they need you for deliveries.”
John spoke up then. “It’s all right, Mr. Turley. We said we would only keep him busy on Saturdays since it’s our biggest day for deliveries. He’d probably want a job that’s more constant. Is that right, KC?”
KC. She completely didn’t need his name to evoke more curiosity. Too late.
Eliza thought he looked a little stunned, but he answered, “I’d be obliged, Mr. Turley. I’m a hard worker.” His eyes slid to Eliza and quickly away but not before a thrill ran up her back.
Did he wonder if she trusted him after their unusual meeting last night? She didn’t know him, so probably not, but she wasn’t sure if she trusted herself, either. Just because a fine looking man was going to be around the homestead every day didn’t mean that she had to develop a tendre for him. Oh,
and he was fine—at least the part of him between the tips of his boots and his black felt hat. Get your heart off your sleeve, Eliza. Get in the house and stop staring at him. All good advice, but she didn’t take a single step toward the door.
“Can you start on Monday?” her father asked. “You’re welcome to sleep in the barn unless you have a place in town already.”
“Yes, sir. Monday will be fine, and so will the barn. Thank you.”
“Come to dinner after church tomorrow. You can meet the family and get settled in. We’ll start you early on Monday.”
“Thank you for the invitation. I’ll be here.”
“Let’s get the rest of this delivered,” John said as he stepped from the wheel spoke to the toe board, then sat on the seat. Willie jumped up beside him, and KC sat in the back of the wagon. Eliza thought he watched her as they left.
At dinner that night, Mama didn’t put the stew in the bowls as she usually did before the family sat down. Instead, Eliza’s father picked up the telegram that Willie had delivered.
Looking at it, he said, “My brother Morris is ill and has requested that your Uncle Ted and I come to Texas. We thought something like this might happen.” His voice faded. Mama touched Pa on the sleeve. He seemed to take courage from that. “He wants to settle his affairs.”
“Maybe he’ll be well before we even get there, and we can bring him and his children back to Colorado with us,” Mama added.
Pa gave her a tired smile. “And if not, it will take some time to sell his property and get the children packed up. That’s why I hired a man to help out. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone. While we are, Eliza and Ellis will take charge.”
Kailin crossed her arms and sat back in her chair.
“Eliza, you’ll take Ma’s responsibilities, and Ellis, you’ll have mine.” Eliza thought Kailin might protest, but Father went on. “Kailin, that means you’ll get chores from Eliza. You’ll also take care of Rayna while her ma and pa go with us.”
