by Sarah Thorn
“No.”
“Did you tell her anything at all about James in your letter, Liz?” John sounded annoyed but looked less stressed than he had a few minutes before.
Liz looked at him. “Of course I did, John! I just…didn’t mention those things.”
“So you just described him and said he’s the Sheriff?”
Liz ignored him and looked at Hettie again. “He’s got a good heart, Hettie, you don’t need to be afraid of him. He won’t hurt you, and he’s not in the saloons or bars much, so you don’t have to worry about that. He doesn’t spend any time with the women in town either. He has a lot of…” She stopped, and her face flushed a little as her emotions got a hold of her. “He has a lot of memories that it’s difficult for him to get rid of. I think a fresh start with a new woman will do him some good.”
Hettie rolled that statement around in her mind. She agreed that a fresh start was always a good idea, especially when things got tough. But she’d been deceived and wasn’t sure how she felt about it. If James wasn’t the man who had paid her family and it had been Liz instead, that meant her preconceived perception of him was flawed. In fact, she had never communicated with him at all. She had no clue what he would be like.
Plus, Liz was fond of saying the word “I.” She had made all the decisions here. What kind of person was her brother?
Hettie moved her eyes to John, who was looking out the window again. He glanced at her just when she looked at him, and she dropped her eyes. He didn’t look nearly as upset now. He kept his eyes on her for a few more moments, considering her. Then he looked back out the window with a thoughtful gaze. She couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking.
Liz leaned forward again, getting her attention. “Don’t you worry, Hettie. I like the way you look. You are sweet and kind; I can tell. James will love you. You’ll see!”
Hettie just smiled at her.
Chapter Two
By the time the carriage pulled up in front of a two-story house, Hettie had worked herself up again. She was worried that with this turn of events, James might be displeased with her and she would end up in a miserable and unhappy marriage. She was so hoping for love. The thought of it sounded distant to her at that point.
“Okay, here we are.” Liz sounded a little apprehensive herself. John stepped down from the carriage and rounded it to open the door for the women. He helped Liz out first, then Hettie. He went to the back of the carriage to unstrap the two bags while the women went up the few steps to the porch and crossed to the front door.
Liz opened the first door and knocked on the second.
They waited in silence, Liz giving Hettie a nod and a smile, squeezing her arm in the process.
They heard the sound of footsteps on the other side and the door was thrown open by a tall man dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt.
“Liz! What are you doing here?” He didn’t sound unfriendly, but he didn’t smile at his sister. His eyes settled on Hettie, and he blinked, giving her the once-over. “And who might this be? New member of the community? Hello, I’m James, the local Sheriff. I have to say you don’t look like the type to make trouble for my little town.”
Hettie smiled shyly and giggled quietly. She didn’t feel very tough around James. He was intimidating and amazingly handsome. In fact, it made her heart do a little flip, and her stomach did the same. She took his extended hand, and he bowed to her. “I’m Hettie,” she responded. “It’s good to meet you, James.”
“There’s actually something interesting about her arrival that you should know, James,” Liz said. She smiled her biggest smile and tried to look as positive as possible.
James stared at her during the brief pause, his smile freezing on his face. “What is it, Elizabeth?”
His use of her formal name made Hettie lose her smile and catch her breath.
“I…well, I brought Hettie here from the East. To…to be a companion for you. A bride. A new wife.”
How many ways was she going to say it? Hettie suddenly felt like a piece of meat being bargained upon. The look on James’ face had changed. He didn’t look so friendly now.
“Elizabeth.” His voice had dropped several octaves. “Elizabeth, what have you done?”
Hettie felt Liz’s hand on her arm squeeze tighter than before. Oh no, she thought. James took a step toward them and Liz instinctively backed up, pulling Hettie with her.
“You need someone to bring you out of your mourning, James. You’ve been in pain for too long.”
“So you reckoned you’d put yourself in the middle of my life and make decisions for me? You decided for my life, what I need and who I need in it? Do you realize that you are my younger sister? I am not a little child to be coddled and manipulated!” James’ voice was rising. Hettie lowered her head and glanced behind them to see John had put her bags back on the carriage and was leaning against it, his head down and his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. He had a sorrowful look on his face and didn’t make a move to come up on the porch to defend them.
She moved her eyes back to the front and waited to see what Liz would say or do now.
“James! You can’t possibly take this attitude right now, right here in front of this woman. She’s traveled a long way and is probably tired and hungry.”
James leaned forward and looked directly at his sister. “And who was it that made her that way? You brought her here. You take care of her!” He stepped back into his house and slammed the door shut.
“Oh!” Liz gasped and put one hand up against her throat. When she looked at Hettie, she had tears in her eyes. Hettie was taller than Liz and looked down at her with gentle eyes, putting one hand on Liz’s. “Oh, Hettie! I am stunned. I am so sorry. I couldn’t have known he would react like this.”
“Liz,” Hettie whispered. “What do I do now? Must I go home? Will you want your money back?”
“No.” It wasn’t Liz who answered. Liz was becoming a bundle of tears, and they both turned when it was John who answered. He was coming toward them now, holding one hand out, not to his wife, but to Hettie. “You will come stay with us, at least for tonight and we will sort this out. We aren’t about to abandon you here when this is all our fault.”
“Oh, John.” Liz went toward her husband, and he gathered her in his arms. He nodded at Hettie and took Hettie’s hand. He led her back to the carriage, never taking his arm from his wife’s shoulders.
Liz cried the entire way to their house, which was about ten minutes away down a dirt road lined with trees and houses set far back from the road. Hettie felt bad for her. She was wrestling with her own emotions but did not feel like crying. She was aghast at the behavior of the Sheriff. Perhaps Liz did interfere with her brother’s life a little too much, and perhaps he was getting weary of it. But to treat a complete stranger in such a way. What could his excuse possibly be?
James stomped furiously back to his sitting room and threw himself in the big cushioned chair he liked to sit in. He could not believe the nerve of his sister. He put together a string of curse words in his mind and then shook them off.
“I’m sorry, Lord!” He groaned, sitting forward and placing his hands clasped in front of his forehead. “I just don’t see how she could do something like this! It’s not her place! I don’t need another wife! I don’t need more pain and fear! Lord, why would she do this to me?”
His mind filled with his first wife, the memory of her face, her smile, her laughter. She had been gone over three years, and he couldn’t shake the misery. He didn’t believe it had changed his behavior in the other aspects of his life. He still kept law and order in this town, kept out the riff-raff and the scoundrels, the thieves and any hostile Indians that might stray onto their property. There were very few problems with the local Indians. This town had been fortunate enough to escape the anger and frustration some towns were plagued with.
Saloon fights and issues with unruly men with the women in town were the main problems he dealt with. It wasn’
t stressful in Elko on a typical day. James counted that as a blessing. The more problems he dealt with, the more his anger came out. As a Sheriff, he couldn’t exactly avoid the problems. So his anger had only grown over the years.
He had killed the man who killed his wife. But it hadn’t stopped the pain. She had been killed for only one reason. She was the Sheriff’s wife. After a long time behind prison bars in Ireland, a migrant had crossed the ocean simply to begin killing people in America, specifically law enforcement and their families. One of his victims was Annie, John’s dear wife. She had only been 24 years old. He was 25 when the tragedy happened. Almost four years later, he could still see her beautiful face, hear her sweet voice and regretted his inability to keep her safe from harm.
He wasn’t going to go through that again. He didn’t care what his sister thought. He didn’t need someone else to care for or to care for him. He was just fine on his own.
He lowered his head to his hands again and fought back tears of sorrow. Liz had opened up that wound all over again. He couldn’t even see the woman he’d met in his mind, couldn’t remember her face. He was blown away by what Liz had done.
“How could she?” He moaned, allowing a few tears to come out before frowning and wiping them angrily away. For the first time in several years, he wanted to go visit the saloon until the early hours of the morning.
But he’d made a vow to himself and to the town, though they didn’t know it, that he would not turn into a raging drunk, stumbling around town pretending to keep the peace while creating the chaos. He was stronger than that.
And he didn’t need a woman on his arm to prove it.
Hettie found herself fairly on her own when they got to Liz and John’s house, at least for a few moments. The Bannerman home was nicely put together, a solid ranch house with two bedrooms, a kitchen, sitting room, dining room and den. She was impressed as soon as she went in. It was obvious that Liz did everything she could to keep the place dust free. It couldn’t have been easy. The air was so dry and dusty. Hettie had the idea dusting was a constant chore.
John helped Liz up into the house and into the sitting room, where Liz dropped herself on a couch, grabbed a large pillow cushion and squeeze it in front of her. Now she was not crying as much as raging against her brother and his behavior. She pounded on the pillow, calling him selfish, a fool, unbelievable.
Liz stood in the foyer waiting for John to tell her where to go. She watched him kneel next to his wife, looking up at her. “You must not come down on yourself too much, dear wife. You were only trying to help him get out of the bad mood he’s been in for years.”
“Years, John. Years!” She repeated back to him as if he had said “weeks” or “months.” He just nodded at her.
“I know. I know.” He lifted one hand and put it against her cheek. “But you know how James is. You know he always reacts quickly to things and then when he takes a step back and looks at things, he calms down. You know he is that way.”
Liz pulled in a breath and swallowed hard. She was looking down at John with tender eyes. “But how could he behave that way in front of Hettie? How can he not know how much that would hurt her?”
“The only reason James acts that way is because he doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt. Liz, we discussed this. It’s not like you and I didn’t take this possibility into account. We will go with the second plan of action. All right?”
Hettie took a step forward, holding her bag in front of her. “Excuse me?” She said. The couple looked up at her. John got to his feet and came toward her with his hands extended which she took.
“Come in here and sit down. How terribly rude after what you’ve just been put through.” He said. He led her to a near chair, and she sat in it.
“You have another plan?” Hettie asked, settling into the comfortable chair after the long train ride and abrupt carriage rides. John nodded and moved back to sit next to Liz on the couch. He leaned forward, lacing his fingers through his wife’s.
“Yes. Liz and I are going to have a child. We will need someone to care for it. If you are willing to stay on, we will let you live here, and you can help out Liz.”
Hettie pressed her lips together. It was not what she had planned, but it was definitely a good alternative to the only other option, which would be leaving and going back to Virginia. Or going into town and working with those women.
She shuddered. That was not an option. And if she stayed…perhaps she could win over the heart of the handsome Sheriff.
Chapter Three
Hettie unfolded the handkerchief and looked at it admiringly. “This is beautiful work, Liz! Did you do this?” The cloth was embroidered with a brightly colored peacock and had the initials EAB woven into the bird’s feathers.
Liz wiped her hands on her apron and came over to look at the handkerchief. She smiled softly and took it from Hettie. “No, my gramma did. She made it for me when I was a child. I think it’s funny that my initials didn’t change.” She looked up at Hettie, her memories alive on her face. “My grandmother was very much involved in our lives until we lost her some years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
Liz shook her head and placed the cloth back on the shelf hanging over the window. “She lived a long and fruitful life. She was a wonderful and happy woman, always doing things to help others. She was the reason we all have faith in the Lord to guide our steps.” She shook her head, going back to the counter to continue shaving the skins from them with a sharp knife. “It’s one of the reasons I have such a hard time accepting James’ behavior. Not just last night but for the past three years. He has been so sad. He just won’t come out of mourning. He’s angry and bitter all the time. It’s like he’s not praying, not trying, not trusting the Lord at all.”
“Did he before he lost his wife?” Hettie asked, moving to the large bowl of water she was using to clean the vegetables she and Liz had pulled from the garden early that morning. They were preparing a birthday celebration for John. Many of the people in town would be there, including James. It made her nervous. She wondered if he was even going to show up after what had happened those nights before.
“Yes. He has not since then.”
“May I ask you a question?” Hettie looked up from the carrots she had lined up on the cutting table. Liz looked back at her, holding her knife in one hand and a potato in the other.
“Of course, Hettie.”
“If you knew that he was still angry and bitter about the loss, why would you bring someone else here to meet him? Such a long way? I don’t want to sound rude; I have enjoyed the last two days getting to know you both. But if you knew about his feelings, why did you surprise him in such a way?”
Liz looked back down at the potatoes before answering. She set down the knife and potato she held and went to sit next to Hettie at the table. She looked into Hettie’s eyes and licked her small lips. “It seems that I’ve manipulated this situation in a way I should not have. I am sorry for that. I was only trying to do what I thought would be good for my brother. I really didn’t expect him to react that way. I thought he was, at least, give you time to get to know him and him to know you.” She sighed. “I reckon, I also hoped it would be enough of a shock to bring him out of this mood he’s been in, show him that there are other beautiful women in the world for him to love.”
“Beauty is only seen on the surface,” Hettie said, sadly. “He has not seen what is underneath. He may be afraid to see who I am. He may be afraid of his feelings. Did she die in a brutal way?”
Liz nodded, her eyes dropping to the vegetables as if they were the most fascinating things she had ever seen. “He watched it happen. And then he shot the man who killed her.”
It was Hettie’s turn to sigh. “I see.”
A shock was probably not what James had needed. Perhaps gently easing someone new into his life would have been better than bringing her and dropping her on his front doorstep like an abandoned animal.
She shook of
f her feelings of resentment. She understood that Liz was just a meddling sister who cared too much for her brother, stewing in his misery and pain. She understood that James was still mourning and having a terrible time pulling out of it.
What she didn’t understand was how she was supposed to react to it. Her life had been turned upside down to travel across the country, and now her future was very much in question. She had prepared herself to be married. Was she supposed to start looking for someone else?
“I have been praying for someone to get through to James for so long now. I can’t bear to see him like that anymore.”
“What would you like for me to do, Liz?” Hettie asked. “Do you want me to try to do something to get through to him? Because I really don’t know how I’m going to do that.”
Liz shook her head and put one hand on Hettie’s arm. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do, Hettie. I just want you to be yourself. He will be around. I believe John was right when he said that James would calm down. He will give you a chance…if you still want one.”
Hettie thought about James. He was tall, handsome, strong, everything she admired in a man. Everything she could see, anyway. But she didn’t know his mind or his personality. All she had seen was anger and rage.
“When I was young,” Hettie said. “I watched my mother die.”
Liz sat back, her dark eyes wide open. She pushed one hand through some of the dark hair that had escaped the bun. “Oh my! I did not know that, Hettie!”
Hettie nodded. “I have not mentioned it before. It was…very bad. I was upset about it for a long time. So was my father. I was twelve years old; my brother was almost fifteen. My mother’s brother moved in with us after her death and helped my father care for us children. Mother was a wonderful and bright light in our lives. And my father mourned her for many years, too.”
Liz pressed her lips together, tears filling her eyes. “Did he ever find love again?”
Hettie shook her head. “He wasn’t looking.”
