Eleanor's Dilemma

by Cheryl Wright

  Chapter Five

  The four of them sat huddled around a table in the café – the sheriff, the deputy, Glen, and Eleanor.

  They’d chosen a table in the corner, away from prying eyes and ears. Their waitress, Charity, had taken their orders, then left them alone.

  “Floyd Arnold? He’s as trustworthy as they come,” Sheriff David Knight said quietly. They couldn’t afford to have their conversations overheard. “He’s lived in or around Belle for most of his life. Parents owned a property about twenty miles out of town.”

  “When they died and the bank took over the property,” Deputy Will added, “He took to wandering. Got work wherever he could, never staying long.”

  Eleanor hung on every word. “He seems a nice fellow,” she said, obviously feeling sorry for the man.

  Glen followed the conversation carefully. He needed someone trustworthy, as well as someone he could rely on. “Suggestions for other workers when we need them?”

  “No one that’s available right now, but I’ll send them along when I can.”

  Charity interrupted to place a mug of coffee in front of each person at the table, as well as to leave a plate of cookies. “Thank you,” Eleanor said softly.

  There had been no new leads according to the sheriff, and as far as he could tell, no one knew Glen’s wife was in Belle.

  His wife. It had a nice ring to it, even if it was a pretend marriage.

  He’d never really wanted to marry, or thought about getting married. His lifestyle didn’t make it easy. With every case, he moved to another town, and that would never work for a married man.

  Being single was the best option for someone like himself. Besides, Eleanor had made it perfectly clear theirs would never be a real marriage.

  When they’d finished their drinks, the three men stood. Eleanor adjusted her bonnet, and waited for Glen to pull out her chair. He was certain her former husband always did little things like that for her, and she left him in no doubt as to what she expected.

  “We’re off to the Mercantile now,” he said as they left. He knew Eleanor had a big shopping list to fill this time, which was not a bad thing. The less she was seen in Belle, the better.

  Henry and Livvy Stewart greeted them as though they were old friends. He could see it made Eleanor uncomfortable, but from his perspective it was good. It meant they didn’t seem out of place.

  Livvy followed Eleanor around with a box, filling it with the supplies she needed. “Seems like you’ve been cooking up a storm,” Livvy commented, and Glen agreed.

  “She certainly has,” he said. “Potato pancakes and bacon for breakfast today. Plus we have a guest.”

  Livvy’s eyebrows went up. “Oh? Anyone I might know?”

  “Could be. We’ve taken on Floyd Arnold to look after things around the ranch.”

  “Floyd is a terrific worker, and a good man,” Henry intercepted. “He’ll always do right by you.”

  “Speaking of Floyd,” Glen said. “We need timber – Floyd is repairing the worker’s hut. In the meantime, he’s staying in the house.”

  “You’ll have to get the timber you want from the mill.” Henry gave instructions of how to get there.

  Eleanor finished her shopping and followed Livvy to the counter. “Floyd would appreciate the home cooking,” Livvy said. “He’s a good man, but has done it tough for quite some time.”

  “I thought as much,” Glen said, handing over cash payment for their purchases.

  Henry and Livvy glanced at each other. Perhaps he should open an account at the Mercantile. It seemed to be a point of difference, and they didn’t need to make themselves standout.

  “I will open an account after all,” Glen said. “Here’s an extra twenty dollars to start it off.”

  Henry took the proffered money, and again glanced at his wife. “I don’t like being in debt,” Glen explained, and the pair nodded.

  Henry then helped carry their goods out to the wagon. “Do right by him, and Floyd will do right by you,” he said quietly.

  Glen thanked him and they were soon on their way to the butcher shop where they picked up enough meat to last a few days at least.

  Next on the list was the timber mill, which was not far off the track on their way home. It had been a big day for both of them, and he was ready for another coffee.

  Floyd helped carry the food supplies into the house, and the timber supplies to the worker’s hut. Henry was right – Floyd was a good worker.

  The sheriff vouched for his trustworthiness, and so it seemed, did Henry. That certainly put Glen’s mind at ease.

  “Looks like you folks been to a lot of places today,” he said conversationally.

  “It’s been a big day, for sure. Belle is bigger than I’d first realized.” The pair carried the bigger pieces of timber between them, down the back to the worker’s hut. “It’s looking good, Floyd. You’ve done a great job.”

  “Thanks Mr Sanders. Some parts have been practically rebuilt.”

  “It’s Glen, and I appreciate the work you’ve put into it. My wife and I appreciate it a lot.” Floyd nodded but didn’t say anything. “She’s got big plans for this place. Sometimes I think they might be too big.”

  “Oh?”

  “Horses more than anything. She wants to restore it, bring it back to what old Mr Jones had going.” Glen wanted to put it out there, and find out Floyd’s reaction.

  “I guess that means going into competition with the Johnson Horse Ranch.” Floyd scratched his head. “Not that it was ever a problem before. But being newcomers to town, he could be a might rankled.”

  “I hope not. But if you want it, there’s plenty of work here for you. For quite a while, I’d say.”

  That brought a smile to Floyd’s face, and for the first time, Glen noticed the real man. As Henry had mentioned, Floyd had done it tough for quite some time. Living mostly outdoors had not helped his appearance. He’d first thought the man to be in his late forties, but when he smiled, Glen could see he was more like early to mid thirties in age.

  Nothing he could do about that, but perhaps he could help the man in the future. Eleanor had no plans beyond this ranch, but that could change in a heart-beat.

  Neither of them knew what would happen once the outlaws were caught and she was safe again. The thought send a shiver down his spine.

  Eleanor was the only woman he’d ever met who had affected him the way she did. When he touched her, a thrill went up his arm. When he was near, his heart rate accelerated. And when he kissed her, his lips tingled for the longest time.

  His suggestion to marry her was not an unselfish one, far from it. But he knew he would never have a real marriage with his wife. Her heart was with Nathaniel Carter, and always would be.

  “Here will be fine.” Floyd’s voice brought him out of his revelry, and as he turned back toward the house, Glen noticed Eleanor staring at them out of the kitchen window.

  He wondered if she would ever see him as her husband and not only her protector. He tipped his hat and she immediately turned away, continuing to pack away the new supplies, most likely.

  She was a good cook, which had confused him at first. He’d automatically presumed she would have had a team of servants – a cook and maid at the least.

  But over time he’d come to realize she preferred to do all those tasks herself, which was probably just as well. Who else may have lost their lives that day, had they been around?

  As the men returned to the house to collect more timber from the wagon, she called them in for coffee. He certainly wouldn’t say no.

  She placed a mug in front of each man, then added a plate of cookies to the center of the table. “They’re still warm,” Glen said as he reached for one. “Mmmm, yum.”

  Floyd grinned and took a bite of his cookie. “These are delicious, Missus. Uh, Missus Sanders,” he amended. “Thank you. It’s a long time since I’ve had homemade cookies.”

 
“She’s a good cook, my wife,” added Glen. He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face if he wanted to.

  “My mother taught me to cook,” she said quietly. “Growing up on a horse ranch meant we girls had to help with the cooking and household chores.” She looked thoughtful. “Then there were the horses…”

  For the first time, Glen saw how vulnerable Eleanor really was. Not defenseless like when Floyd came running in with his weapon drawn, but like a woman remembering special times from her childhood. Times she believed she’d never have again.

  This was not the strong woman he’d protected over the past months. Perhaps she was showing her true self for once?

  Floyd stared at her momentarily, taking it all in, then ate the rest of his cookie and gulped down his coffee. “Back to work,” he said, snatching up another oatmeal cookie as he went. He certainly seemed more content these last few days.

  Glen couldn’t imagine living the life of an itinerant worker. Not knowing where your next meal was coming from or if you’d have somewhere to sleep.

  Henry and the sheriff were both right. He was a good man and a hard worker, and Glen intended to reward him for that with the promise of a job for as long as there was one available.

  The men finished moving the timber to the back of the property – it was obvious Floyd would be staying with them in the ranch house for some time to come. That was not necessarily a bad thing.

  “Darn it,” Glen said out of the blue. “I forgot to ask about chickens.”

  “Chickens?” Floyd scratched his head.

  “For the chicken coop. Eleanor has her heart set on raising chickens.”

  Floyd grinned. “I know a few places I can get you some.”

  “Legally?” Glen wasn’t certain everything Floyd did was above board.

  The other man chuckled. “I can do that too. We can get them this afternoon if you like.”

  Glen couldn’t risk leaving Eleanor alone. Wouldn’t risk it. “I can’t leave my wife alone – she is frightened of being by herself. But don’t tell her I said so.”

  “She scares easily, the Missus,” Floyd said.

  “Unfortunately, yes. But she’s improving.” He pulled some notes out of his wallet. “Will that cover it?”

  “Should be more than enough.”

  Floyd headed for the wagon, and Glen for the house. The aroma of supper cooking hit him as he entered the kitchen. “Stew? Smells good.”

  Eleanor threw the last of the vegetables in the pot with the meat and stirred them. “It does, doesn’t it?” She smiled and his heart did a little flutter. “I thought biscuits would go nicely with the stew.” She indicated to a tray on the counter with biscuits waiting to go in the oven.

  “You’re spoiling us,” Glen said, pulling her close.

  She pushed him away. “Where’s Floyd gone?”

  “It’s a surprise,” he told her. “Eleanor,” he said softly, totally changing the subject. “I really like holding you.”

  She grimaced. “I like it too, but we agreed to a marriage of convenience.”

  He pulled her close again. “If we’re to pull this off, we must act like a real married couple.” He glanced down at her face. All of the softness was gone, and he was sure she would baulk again, but she didn’t.

  Instead she leaned into him. “I miss Nathaniel,” she said quietly.

  When Glen glanced down, a tear trickled down her face.

  He wiped it away with his thumb. “I know you do. And I’m not trying to replace him, I promise. My intention has always been to keep you safe.”

  She snuggled into him again. It felt nice, and he could certainly take more of this. Unfortunately, she was mostly an unwilling participant.

  Chapter Six

  Eleanor snuggled into Glen and it felt good.

  She couldn’t believe she’d done that. It felt comforting when she snuggled like that, so she stayed right where she was.

  He was right, they had to appear to be a happily married couple. They were married, but happily was far from the truth.

  Last night was the first time she’d slept well since Nathaniel’s murder. Having Glen in the bed with her gave her a sense of security. Perhaps it was a false sense of security, but she’d slept better, nonetheless.

  She heard him swallow and looked up. He gazed into her eyes and pulled her a little closer, held her a little tighter.

  She felt safe with Glen, and had done so from the very beginning. When the sheriff suggested they put her into protective custody she’d baulked, but finally agreed. His cousin Glen had done it before, the sheriff said.

  It turned out he was an ex-Pinkertons detective, and only took on occasional work. Luckily for her he took her on, because she had no idea where she would be now, or how safe she would be.

  The investigation was ongoing, but she wished they would find the killers and let her get back to her life. A life that no longer included Nathaniel.

  Glen stared into her face. “Are you alright?”

  She nodded. “I, I was thinking about Nathaniel,” she said quietly, then pulled out of his arms to stir the stew. “What’s all this about a surprise?” She turned back to face him.

  “I’ve sent Floyd to collect it. It should be here soon.”

  She went to the window and stared out. “It’s so nice to see horses running around the paddock. I’ve really missed that.” She spun around to face him. “Do you ride?”

  He stared at her then laughed. “Not if I can help it.”

  She grimaced. “I adore riding. I want to go riding soon.” She put her hand up before he could protest. “I’m going with or without you.”

  Eleanor knew she’d given him no choice. “I can teach you.”

  He frowned and stared her down. “I have ridden before, you know. I just prefer not to.”

  She knew there were people like him around – people who didn’t particularly like horses. She had never understood it, and probably never would. Having been brought up on a horse farm concreted her future in that regard.

  She snatched up some apples and shoved them into the pocket of her skirts, then headed for the back door.

  “Where are you going?” he asked as she opened the door.

  She swiveled her head and glanced at him over her shoulder. “I’m going to visit the horses. You’re welcome to tag along.”

  He screwed up his nose and she laughed.

  It felt good. She hadn’t laughed much over the past few months. In fact, she couldn’t recall even one time she’d laughed since she’d lost Nathaniel.

  That thought sobered her almost immediately. She preferred the feeling of happiness, and continued toward the back paddock where the horses ran free.

  She heard Glen behind her and when he finally caught up, covered her hand with his. A thrill went through her, until she remembered what he’d said about behaving like a happily married couple.

  It was all for show. He had no feelings whatsoever toward her, and it was mutual. Sure, she liked snuggling into him, but it meant nothing.

  Nothing more than being a source of comfort that was. But he held her like she meant something to him, but she was certain that wasn’t true.

  It was all part of the job. It’s what she paid him for anyway. To put on a good show so no one would suspect they weren’t really married.

  That brought her up quick. They were really married. As of this morning she was Mrs Glen Sanders.

  She was no longer Eleanor Carter, wife of the slain banker, Nathaniel Carter.

  Her breath caught in her throat. What had she done?

  They finally reached the fence to the paddock, and one of the horses galloped over to her. He nudged his nose into her shoulder and whinnied. Then he moved his head toward her pocket and sniffed.

  “Hello boy,” she said gently, at the same time laughing, then reached into her pocket. He greedily ate the apple she offered, and whinnied into her shoulder again when he was finished. />
  “He likes you.” Glen’s voice pulled her away from the beautiful boy standing in front of her.

  She smiled at him. “I like him too.” She thought for a moment. “I need to find a name for him.” She closed her eyes trying to come up with an appropriate name. “I know, Fury.” She reached up and rubbed her hand up and down his nose.

  “He likes that.”

  “Yes he does.” She turned to Glen. “Fury will be mine. He’s not to be sold when we get to that stage.”

  The other horses realized she had treats and made their way to the fence. A few nuzzled into her shoulder, and she reached into her pocket again. Fury didn’t budge, and fought his way closer to get another bite or two.

  “I think he’ll live up to his name.” Fury suddenly reared up and whinnied. Eleanor turned to see what the fuss was about, and saw Floyd enter the yard carrying a crate. “What’s that?” she asked. “Oooh, is it my surprise?”

  “It most certainly is, my love.”

  She flinched at his easy use of the words, but said nothing. They made their way back to the house and Floyd.

  Her heart raced when she saw what was inside the crate. Chickens! Her surprise was chickens! “Oh Glen, that’s so wonderful.” She turned and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear.

  “Excuse me, Missus Sanders.” She glanced across to Floyd, who was beaming at her, obviously happy with his part in this conspiracy. “Should I let them loose or lock them up?”

  “Let them run loose. Oooh, this is so exciting!” She turned to Glen and hugged him again. “I’ve really missed having chickens, and fresh eggs.”

  Glen squeezed her, as though he understood her excitement. “I must go and check on the supper.”

  She reluctantly left the men to let the chickens loose. It turned out to be an amazing day, even if it had begun with her marrying a man she didn’t love. Barely knew.

  The stew was mouth-watering, along with the biscuits.