by Emily Claire
“And I think I could get used to watching sunsets with you,” she said softly.
I sure hope so. I’m sort of counting on it, thought Boone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
After breakfast the following morning, Boone let Gabrielle know the buggy was hitched up and he was ready to go. She hurried outside, clearly excited. Boone gave her a hand up onto the platform.
She was invigorated by the countryside and the cold wind on her face. “It’s strange getting used to living out here in the middle of nowhere. It’s so quiet! I guess I’m not used to hearing myself think. After having had roommates for so many years, and working in a noisy mill, I sort of miss the constant activity and chatter.”
“That’s sure different from your new life here. How many roommates did you have?” Boone showed genuine interest.
“I lived with three wonderful girls. Roberta, Sarah, and Poppy. The letter I got was from Sarah, but Poppy is my closest friend… probably because we have more in common.”
“How so?” asked Boone.
“Well, we both intended never to marry.” She looked at him and chuckled. “I guess we’re not alike in that regard now!”
“How else are you alike?”
“We both ended up becoming mail-order brides,” she laughed. “And, there was the way we both felt about things.” Gabrielle knew her response was vague and debated on whether or not she should mention any other similarities. Wanting her marriage to work, she decided she should be honest with her new husband.
“Poppy’s father was terrible to her. He beat her and her mother whenever the mood struck him. If he lost money gambling, he’d take it out on them. And when he got drunk, he was impossible and dangerous to live with. When she was fifteen, Poppy decided she’d had enough and ran away. I don’t blame her at all.” Gabrielle looked at the horizon. Wide and a little hilly, it seemed so safe.
Boone looked at her pale face, her dark blue scarf framing it perfectly. She suddenly seemed distant, despite the fact that she was close enough to brush against him when the wagon took them over bumps in the road.
“Did you have to run away from home as well?” he asked, gently.
She nodded slowly, wondering how much she was willing for him to know about her past. “I wish I’d had the courage to do it earlier than I did. My mother was a hard-working, lonely widow who could barely support us. I think she would have married any man in the world who asked her, and she did. The one she got was always very jovial and charming in public, and everyone thought he was a fine, upstanding citizen.” She paused. “He was different at home, though.” Quietly, she added, “I was never comfortable being alone with him.”
Gabrielle looked down at her gloved hands, a familiar feeling of shame rising up within her. After a few seconds of silence, she forced herself to look at the trees not far from the road.
“How much longer until we get to Coltonville?” she asked, ready to change the subject.
Boone wanted to know more but sensed she’d told him all she could for now. “It won’t be long. Look over in that direction.” He pointed for her to see. “See those trees? It just around that bend.”
Gabrielle’s pained look transformed into one of excitement as she leaned as far to one side as she could, trying to catch a glimpse of her new hometown. “I can’t wait!” She all but bounced in anticipation.
Boone laughed at her exuberance.
Throughout the day he found he enjoyed her company and looked forward to her responses. The mercantile was amply supplied with the material she’d need for her sewing. It wasn’t lost on him that she’d noted the condition of his shirts and trousers, for she added cloth for him as well.
“Are you sure I’m not buying too many things?” she asked, unused to spending so much at one time.
Boone leaned toward her and said quietly. “There’s plenty of money for what we need. As you’ve probably noticed from the look of things at the house, I haven’t sunk much money into it.”
“But there’s so much here!” she countered, her eyes wide.
Reassuringly, he said, “It’s my pleasure to make our house comfortable for you.”
“Thank you! I can hardly wait to get started. Is this everything? Can we head back now?”
“I don’t know. How’d you like to buy some thimbles? They have three different kinds!”
She shook her head. “I don’t need a thimble collection, and neither do you!”
He looked at the supplies stacked on the counter. Pleased to see some of his favorite food staples, he was grateful she’d been paying attention to his preferences even this early in their marriage.
“I’m done if you’re done,” he said to Gabrielle, and indicated to the young woman working behind the counter that they were finished.
As they were riding back to the house, Gabrielle tentatively asked if Boone would teach her how to drive the wagon. “We always walked in the city or used rail cars when necessary, so I haven’t had much experience.”
“It’s hard to believe that anyone living in these times wouldn’t know how to handle a wagon. I guess we adapt to whatever culture we’re living in. I lived in Topeka for many years and got used to seeing lots of activity there. I preferred our cabin outside of town, though. It was a good place raise our boy.”
“Where is he now? Your boy, I mean?” she asked.
“His name’s Buck, and I couldn’t tell you where he is, not for sure anyway. He’s a musician. He travels with a small band of various people who try to make their living entertaining others. He moved out a while back. I got a postcard from New York City last month, and he said he was having a great time, but not much of anything else. I guess he’s too busy exploring the world to write.”
Boone put the reins into Gabrielle’s hands, showing her just how to hold them. She had a hard time getting used to the feel of the leather in her hands. After several minutes, she looked over at Boone and said, “I’m not doing a very good job of this. How long before they get rail cars out here in the West?”
Boone laughed loudly. “Out in the country? Never, I hope! I love it out here. Wouldn’t change a thing.”
She moved her arms to hand the reins back over to him.
“Oh, no you don’t. You can’t give up yet. I expect to get fully back to working on my saddles come Monday morning. You need to know how to get around on your own. I’ve got over a week’s worth of work to catch up on and I’ll be pretty busy.” He lifted his right arm over her head and placed his right hand over the rein in her right hand, thus encircling her with his long arms. His left hand settled over her left hand as he showed her the proper way to get the horses to move into the desired direction.
Gabrielle started to protest but realized she needed this skill. She preferred to practice new things when she was completely alone. Accuracy and perfection were always her goals, but driving a wagon wasn’t something she could learn completely on her own. She’d practice after she learned the basics.
“All of my horses know their way home. You can pretty much just get ‘em started and they’ll get you there. I have one or two that I drive into town most of the time, but I use some of the others when I’m training them for buyers.”
As they approached a fork in the road, he showed her how to lead the horse into changing directions. The horse pulling them resisted slightly, but Gabrielle felt her way through the steering, with Boone’s help. As he did so, she felt his chest press against her arm and back and had to force her thoughts to remain on the horse, rather than the feeling of warmth he generated through her coat.
Boone felt her relax as she became more comfortable, but he was reluctant to let go of her hands. He appreciated the scent of her hair and the feel of her body next to his but then cautioned himself and released his hold.
Settling into position, he leaned back a little and sighed, crossing his arms over his waist, and smiling at her.
“You know, it’s kind of nice having someone else take the reins. Even on a short d
rive. You won’t have any trouble once you start setting out on your own.” Looking out of the corner of his eye, he saw a smile play on her slightly red lips. “I’m glad you’re here, Gabrielle,” he said warmly.
Her heart began beating faster. If she wasn’t careful, she’d get used to his compliments. “I’m glad we talked last night. It’s better that we have a clear understanding of our reasons, both of our reasons, for the kind of marriage we’ve chosen to have.” There. That should keep things clear between us. “This is going to work out just fine as long as we keep to our agreement, right?” For emphasis, she turned her head to look at him.
His brown eyes seemed to smile as he nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I believe everything will be just fine.”
They rode in comfortable silence the rest of the way home, neither feeling the need for talk just to fill in the passing time.
As soon as everything was unloaded and brought into the house, Gabrielle intentionally prepared a very large lunch. “I want to get started on the curtains right away. So, if you don’t mind, we’ll just save the rest of this meal for dinner.” She glanced over at Boone and couldn’t quite read the look on his face.
“What is it? Would you prefer I not work on them right now? I guess it can wait until tomorrow.” she said, disappointment clearly in her tone.
Boone shook his head. “You’re a hard worker. I guess I’ll go out to the barn and get a little head start on Monday so you won’t make me look like a lazy man. I’ll leave you to your sewing.” He grinned at her. “See you later, Breezy.”
“Breezy?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
He nodded. “It suits you. You’re just short of a whirlwind, kicking things up and moving them around a bit. You’re like a good breeze making its way through the area. Yep, definitely a refreshing breeze.”
He heard her chuckling as he left the room.
*******
When Boone returned at dusk, he found her humming. She’d been busy, if the hemmed squares and rectangles of cloth were of any indication. He saw the sewing machine she was using. He’d forgotten about it. Amanda had inherited it from her mother, but he’d never seen her use it.
He walked across the room and picked up one of the large squares of cloth. “This looks good, Gabrielle. You’ve sure gotten a lot done this afternoon. Do you want some help hanging them?”
He walked over to her. She was bent over the sewing machine. “Where’d you find that?” he asked.
“It was in one of the trunks I found while cleaning. Under a collection of newspapers, I think. I was so happy to see it!” She paused, suddenly fearful that he might not have wanted her using it. “Oh! I just assumed you wouldn’t mind if I used it. Was it Amanda’s?”
Gabrielle stopped what she was doing as she became flustered, embarrassed that she’d helped herself to it without even asking him first.
“Whoa—.” He stopped himself, seeming to remember how she’d responded to him the last time he’d used that word with her. “Wait. Don’t get upset. I’m happy that you’ve found something so useful to you. As I was saying, can I help you hang them?”
She sat back down. “I’m sorry. I tend to overreact sometimes.”
She cleared her throat, calming down. “Yes, I’d appreciate your help. I’m just now finishing with these. If you’ll just get a hammer and some nails, I’ve got some cord we can run through the tops and we’ll be all set to hang them. They’ll be just the right thing to brighten these rooms.”
Boone returned momentarily with the needed tools.
“I’ve got three hammers. What size?”
They worked together to get the cords through the upper hems. She stood on a chair next to him as he reached up and handled the hammering
Gabrielle had never lived in a home with such large glass windows. She’d seen them in many buildings in the city, but never in her own home. They’d saved the largest window for last, and she was standing on top of the chair, stretching out her arm to hand Boone the curtain. He’d finished pounding in the nail and turned to take the end of the curtain from her just as the chair tipped and Gabrielle began to fall toward him. Quickly, he leaned his tall body in her direction in time to catch her in his arms. Her momentum was fast though, and they both tumbled to the floor, Gabrielle landing fully on his chest.
Startled and breathing hard, they laid there with their faces inches apart, gazing into each other’s surprised eyes for several seconds. Boone was on his back and let his arms fall open wide on the floor. He dared not touch her, lest he offend her.
“Oh, my goodness,” she whispered. “Oh, my!” she then exclaimed loudly, scrambling to roll off of Boone.
They both apologized at the same time, then began laughing at each other. Boone sat up first, then jumped to his feet. He reached down and offered her his hand.
Gabrielle accepted and allowed him to pull her to a standing position. “Well, that was unexpected,” she said.
Boone looked her up and down. “Are you hurt?”
Shaking her head, Gabrielle brushed off her dress and then quickly reached for the curtain that had fallen to the ground. “I’m just fine, really. Let’s get this finished, okay?”
She focused entirely on getting the last of the curtains hung and wasn’t interested in talking.
Boone was uncomfortable in her presence. “It’s been a long day. I think I’m over my concussion, but I do feel pretty tired. If you don’t need my help any longer, I think I’ll get ready for bed.”
“Well, you’ve been more active today than any other since your fall. I can see why you’d be exhausted. Thanks for all your help. Good night, Boone,” she said dismissively.
After he left the room Gabrielle went back to work. She’d kept back a shirt she’d found in the laundry to use as a pattern for the one she planned to sew for him. Instinctively, she knew the red flannel she’d bought would look wonderful against his slightly olive-colored skin. His dark hair and brown eyes would have a striking effect with him in that color.
Laboring intensely, she wasn’t aware of the time until her body began to ache. It was well after midnight, so she carefully put the pinned pieces away. If she worked on it diligently tomorrow, she’d be able to surprise him with it in a day or two.
CHAPTER NINE
Eighteen-year-old Buck Dillingham was exhausted. He’d been on the road for days. The final push from Dallas to Coltonville was made with the sheer determination to make it home today. The sun had gone down hours before, yet he drove on by moonlight. He daydreamed of sleeping in his own bed.
He hadn’t been home in months and looked forward to some peace and quiet after spending time playing in saloons and for special events across the states. Guiltily, he realized he probably should have let his father know more about where he’d been and what he’d been doing. But the band moved from place to place every couple of days, and there just didn’t seem to be enough time during the daylight hours to think of home. When it came right down to it, he really hadn’t thought all that much about keeping in touch.
Finally, he rode through Coltonville. Another half hour and he’d be there. Time couldn’t pass fast enough to suit him.
He rode up to the barn, unhitched his horse, and released it into the corral. Loading himself down with his guitar case in one hand and a carpet bag that was still functional but required a rope to keep it closed in the other, he half walked, half stumbled toward the front of the house.
Stepping onto the porch and to the door, he quietly turned the handle and slipped inside, carefully closing it after setting down everything he was carrying. It was completely dark in the house, save for a soft glow of moonlight making its way in. In his exhaustion he felt something was out of place, but couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He slipped off his boots and set them against the wall in the foyer.
All he wanted was to fall into bed and sleep until he couldn’t sleep any more. He hadn’t slept in more than twenty hours. In the darkness, he stealthily made his way to his bed
room. The door was closed, so he opened it, remaining quiet so as not to disturb his father down the hall. He removed his trousers and was about to toss them into the corner when he heard his father breathing. The soft sound of his snoring was familiar to Buck. Why in the world is he sleeping in my bed?
Weary, Buck unbuttoned his shirt as he walked down the hall to his father’s room at the back of the house.
*******
Gabrielle had stayed up too late. She was exhausted. Her goal had been to finish Boone’s new shirt by the end of the evening, and she had done it. But it was two o’clock in the morning.
Turning off the lamp, she dragged herself down the hall to her bedroom and slipped into her nightclothes. Snuggling under the blankets, she shivered a moment before warming up and then quickly falling into a deep sleep.
Her dream was of Boone in a red shirt, tall and stunningly handsome. He was so pleased with it that he grabbed her, hugging her tightly before he danced across the room with her in his arms. Her eyes flew open, yet she lay still, unsure as to why she had awakened. Just then, the covers were suddenly thrown back and there he was, falling into bed with her!
She screamed, her arms flailing. Her balled fist hit him hard in the face. Somehow it registered with her that it wasn’t Boone. This man had no beard that she could feel.
A stranger was in her bed. She yelled loudly, “Boone! Help me!” All the while, she kicked and hit.
Boone awoke to the sound of Gabrielle’s scream. He jumped out of bed and ran to her room. He found her yelling, kicking and hitting a man who was covering his face to ward off the blows she was applying to his head.
“Who are you?” he bellowed. “Get out!” He grabbed the man’s shoulders and began pulling him off Gabrielle’s bed, while she scrambled out on the other side.
Boone was about to punch the man in the face. “Pa! Pa! It’s me. What are you doing?”
