by Lydia Olson
David waited a beat before speaking again and heard the same owl that hooted before doing it once more in the silence. “Why are you doing it?” he asked solemnly. “Again, I don’t mean to be too intrusive. Just wondering.”
Sarah thought for a moment. I’ve been thinking the exact same thing.
“I suppose,” she said, “that I, well, that the time has come for me to do so. A woman my age is ordinarily expected to have a suitor.”
David huffed. “My parents said the same thing.”
Sarah looked at him curiously. “Why haven’t you?” she asked. “I mean, you are very much an eligible bachelor.”
Another few seconds passed before David answered. “I don’t know,” he said. “I suppose I’ve been so preoccupied with assisting my parents that it never seemed like an option for me.”
Curiosity began to take hold of Sarah. “Was there ever a woman that caught your eye?”
David smiled. “Yes,” he said, “back when I was younger, right before I went off to war.”
“Do you wish to talk about her? Forgive me—I’m a fiend for stories.”
“Well, it appears you are quite the voracious reader, Miss Harris.”
Sarah shrugged as a coy grin stole across her face. She waited as David sat down by the fire, looking into it deeply as she sensed his thoughts begin to gather.
“Her name was Delilah,” he said at last. “She grew up in the same town I did. Her father was a sheep rancher. She was quite beautiful. I always saw her during my morning walks or when I went into town to fetch supplies. I always saw her from a short distance. She would wave to me and smile as I walked, and I would wave back. I told my mother about this several times, and she tried, perhaps in vain, to get me to speak to Delilah.”
“Did you?” Sarah asked.
“No,” David said regretfully, “but I was about to. I’ll never forget that day. I woke up with the intent to march right up to her father’s ranch, speak to her, and ask her to go for a walk. I had the whole speech planned in advance. I was nervous, let me tell you. My heart was beating so furiously that I thought something was wrong with it.”
A giggle evacuated from Sarah’s lips. “Men are so funny. You all get so nervous when it comes to asking to court a woman.”
“It’s a nervous prospect!” David said sheepishly as he threw up his hands, causing Sarah to laugh even more. “But I was ready that day. I surely was. I awoke at dawn, practicing my speech once again before I made the two-mile trek to her home. But when I got there, well, she was gone.”
Sarah raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“It turned out that her family had moved to another town,” David said as he turned up his head and looked up at the night sky. “I guess the father found better prospects there. The house was empty, not a soul was around on that ranch. I remember feeling so disappointed, not seeing her there, and I thought about what might have happened if I had asked her what I was pining to ask her just a day earlier.” He looked at Sarah and smiled. “But, hey, things happen. I don’t regret it. It just taught me to be a little more proactive, I guess you could say.”
“Proactive,” Sarah repeated. “Again, you are a well-read man, Mr. Bryant.”
The two locked eyes, smiling pleasantly as they shared a comforting silence. To Sarah, it felt like it did when she was curled up with a good book in front of the fireplace at the home in North Carolina she shared with her father. She felt content, completely at ease without a concern or care in the world. In a way—it felt like she was partaking in one of the adventures she read about in so many of her favorite novels, only this time it was happening in real life.
As Sarah looked at David and admired his boyish charm and masculine frame, she thought, how does a man like you ever stay single?
“It will happen, one day,” Sarah said. “I promise you will find a woman suited to your dreams, David.”
“That means the world, Sarah,” David said. “Really.”
The two said nothing more as they took in the beauty of the night sky, and the crackling of the fire keeping them company as Sarah edged closer to David and David edged closer to Sarah. She felt a fluttering in her chest as she did so, enjoying his company. Deputy Michael Crane did not creep into her thoughts for a single second.
Chapter Fourteen
David awoke Sarah the following morning as soon as the daylight broke. She woke up quickly, brushing herself off and standing tall as she followed him on the next leg of their journey. David breathed deeply as they began their walk, an optimistic and sweet scent in the air as they stood side-by-side and made their way through the desert. They walked all of three miles before David held up his hand and stopped walking, an enthusiastic sense overcoming him as he spotted something in the distance.
“Well, I’ll be …” he said.
Sarah took a step forward, her eyes narrowing into slits. “What is it?”
David pointed. “Over there,” he said. “About a half-mile away. It looks like there’s a ranch!”
David gazed at the ranch as Sarah leaned in for a closer look. It was a small property, about two acres in size with a small wooden fence tracing around it. Bales of hay rested to the right, and a small, one-story house painted a sky-blue color with a rusted windmill beside it stood proudly in front of the mountains.
“Thank the Lord,” Sarah said. “Hopefully, they’ll be friendly.”
Clutching the rifle tight in his hand, David said, “My thoughts exactly. Let’s approach slowly to make sure they know we are not a threat.”
David took the lead, approaching the ranch slowly and keeping a close eye on the house. He saw that there was no livestock, save for a pair of horses tethered to a post near the windmill. His eyes scanned their surroundings, making sure that there were no other eyes watching them as they arrived at the edge of the property. As soon as they did, a man emerged from the house with overalls covering a stained, long-sleeved shirt and a revolver held tightly in his weathered right hand.
“Hold it there,” the rancher said. “What’s your business?”
David held his head high, making sure to hold out the rifle to show that he was not intent on using it. “We mean you no trouble,” he said. “We were travelling in a stagecoach that was attacked some distance back, and we’re stranded. We’re looking for food and shelter.” He nodded to Sarah. “This is Sarah,” he poked himself in his chest with his thumb, “and my name is David.”
The rancher craned his neck and looked around. “No one else with you?” he asked.
David shook his head. “No, sir.”
The man waited two seconds. Three.
Then he said, “Curtis Farley,” as he tucked his revolver into the back of his pants. “You can enter.”
David sighed with relief as he looked at Sarah, smiled, and then walked through the gate onto Curtis Farley’s property.
***
Curtis Farley was a gaunt man with a narrow face and leathery skin with eyes tinted a dark shade of gold, with a look about them as if they had seen their fair share of turmoil and strife. Curtis walked with David and Sarah in tow toward the front of his house, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his overalls as he said, “You were ambushed, huh?”
“Yes, sir,” David said. “A trio of highwaymen held us up.”
“Call me Curtis,” the rancher said. “You don’t need to be bothering with the ‘sir’ business.”
“Much appreciated, Curtis,” David returned.
“Well, how can I help you?”
“A meal and a place to stay for the night would be more than kind,” David said. “We’re just looking for somewhere to hole up for a few hours.”
“Where are you headed?”
“Clarendon. That was our original destination.”
Curtis, his palm on the handle of the front door, said, “You plan on going on foot? I don’t know how far you’re going to make it if you keep hopping through the desert on foot.”
David glanced over at the pair of
horses tethered to the post near the windmill. “Don’t suppose we can borrow those fellas over there?”
Curtis looked doubtful, tilting his head. “You got any money?”
“I’m afraid not,” David said. “We lost everything when the highway robbers held us up. But I’d be willing to trade or work off the debt, Curtis. You’d be helping us more than you’d know.”
Curtis took a beat, appraising David from head to toe. “You look like a strong man,” he said. “Maybe you could help me retile my roof. I have the supplies, but it’s a job meant for two.”
David glanced up at the roof of the home, in clear need of repair. Looked as though it had weathered more than a couple of storms. “I’d be more than willing, Curtis,” he said. “Again, we would owe you our lives.”
Curtis nodded. “Well, alright then. You help me retile my roof, then the two of you can stay here for the night. Heck, you can even join us for dinner. My wife, Delores, is inside. Your missus can chat with her while you and I set about working.”
David looked over at Sarah, smiling as he saw her blush the moment Curtis referred to her as his “missus.”
“Oh,” he said, “she’s not…” he stopped himself, unable to deny the fact that he was somewhat relishing the fact that Curtis referred to her as his wife. “Sure,” he said with a nod, “that would be wonderful.”
Sarah and David followed Curtis into the house, and David felt a sense of relaxation settle over him as they’d found a brief reprieve from their journey through the desert.
***
Looking out through the kitchen window at Curtis and David hauling lumber toward the house, Sarah once again felt that same warm and comforting sensation settling over her as she watched her travelling companion work alongside the rancher who had taken them in.
Dinner was just over, and Curtis’ wife, Delores, a silver-haired woman with a friendly disposition served a mouth-watering chicken and mashed-potato dinner, complemented by string beans and gravy. Together, Delores and Sarah were washing the last of the dishes.
“How long have you been married?” Delores inquired.
Sarah felt her heart skip a beat. “I’m sorry?” she said.
Delores pointed as she dried a dish with a towel. “Your husband,” she said. “The good-looking man outside with mine.”
Sarah laughed. “Oh, no. He’s not my husband. We were stranded together after our stagecoach was attacked the other day.”
Delores raised her eyebrows. “You’re not married?”
“No, ma’am. We’re just friends trying to find civilization after being stranded in the desert. I’m set to be wed to a man in Clarendon, a deputy by the name of Crane. Do you know him?”
Delores shook her head. “No,” she said. “My husband and I have not been to Clarendon in a couple of months. We pretty much keep to ourselves on this ranch.”
“Just the two of you?”
“We have a daughter. Her name is Harriet, but she moved away when she was sixteen, with her husband, Sean. They live in Colorado now. We receive letters from her, but we don’t see them hardly enough. She’s quite happy, but I sure miss her.”
Delores looked as though she suddenly remembered something, and she left the kitchen briefly, returning with a cornflower blue prairie dress made of sturdy cotton and handed it to Sarah.
“This was Harriet’s. She left it behind, and it looks like it’ll fit you just fine. I want you to take it since you lost everything in the holdup.”
Sarah began to protest, inasmuch as the Farleys were doing her and David a big favor to help them on their way to Clarendon, but Delores wasn’t having any of it.
“Now Sarah, I insist. Harriet doesn’t miss this dress; she can sew to beat the band. You keep it—it will be lovely on you with your coloring”
Sarah accepted it gratefully and planned to put on the next day. Delores showed her around their quaint home that felt akin to a cozy log cabin one might reside inside during cold winters in the mountains.
“To be honest, it’s nice to have company here for the first time in a while. It’s just been me and Curtis here for quite some time. I love the man to death, but he can be surly sometimes, let me tell you,” Delores admitted wryly.
Sarah smiled. “You have a very lovely home, Mrs. Farley. Thank you again for letting us stay.”
Delores led Sarah into a back room where a metal tub rested the middle. “Here,” she said. “You can wash up in this room. I’ll fetch you a towel and some nightclothes. I can also wash your dress and set it out to dry. Night is falling soon, so it might be a little damp by the time morning comes around. There’s no rush to leave, though, even if Curtis tells you otherwise.”
“Thank you, Miss Farley.”
“You’re quite welcome, Miss…?”
“Harris,” Sarah said. “Sarah Harris.”
Delores crossed her arms. “You really aren’t married? A fine young woman like yourself?”
Sarah shrugged. “Not yet. As I said, I’m to be wed to a deputy in Clarendon.”
“How does that work?”
Sarah hesitated to answer. “It’s a … mail order bride situation.”
“I’ve heard of such things,” Delores said. “The idea of that would make me nervous.”
You’re telling me, Sarah thought, wishing that she could push the thought out of her mind until she managed to finally meet Michael Crane in person.
Delores crossed her arms. “Tell me,” she said, “what happened when your stagecoach was attacked? The two of you did not tell us the whole story during supper.”
Sarah sighed, the memory still fresh in her mind. “We were on our way to Clarendon with three other passengers when our stagecoach was attacked by three bandits. The other passengers were killed by the robbers.”
“And why were you two spared?”
Sarah glanced toward the direction where David was working. “My companion—David— stepped in and claimed I was his pregnant wife. Two of the bandits were reluctant to kill an expectant mother, it seemed. I’m grateful he thought of the idea so quickly. I’m inclined to think we would not be here if he hadn’t done so.”
“He sounds like a smart man,” Delores said.
“He is,” Sarah said. “Very much so.”
Delores took a step forward. “Tell me,” she said, “what did these bandits look like?”
“I’m not quite sure about two of them,” Sarah said. “Their faces were covered. But the man who looked to be the leader did not shy away from showing his face. He was chewing on a cigar. He had stained teeth and leathery skin. I cannot place his age. He was, well, not very human in in the way he conducted himself.”
Delores closed her eyes and hung her head. “I declare …” she said with dread.
“What is it?” Sarah asked.
“I think the man you came across,” Delores said, “goes by the name of Tucker Willis. He’s well-known in these parts, and quite ruthless. He’s committed numerous atrocities seemingly for sport, and he always manages to stay a step ahead of the law, though I’m not sure how he accomplishes this. Any other man who’s done the things that he has would have been strung up around the neck by now.”
Sarah trembled slightly as Delores said the bandit’s name, and images of his wretched expression and sounds of his evil laughter filled her mind.
“Don’t be frightened,” Delores said. “It sounds like your companion is a more than suitable protector. I have no doubt he’ll get you to Clarendon in one piece.”
Sarah smiled wryly. “As do I, Mrs. Farley, as do I.”
“Well,” Delores said as she rubbed her hands together, “enough of this wretched talk. I’ll go fetch you some towels so you can wash up, then I will show you to your lodgings for the evening.”
“Much obliged,” Sarah said before Delores nodded and left the room.
As soon as the door was closed, Sarah began to nibble on her thumbnail as she felt the same panic she experienced when the stagecoach was robbed drop
over her. She revisited the memories of the holdup once more and saw the face of the man that had nearly taken her life come back into clear view with a name now associated along with it: Tucker Willis. She grew even more concerned that he was still out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting to cross paths with her and David once again.
Chapter Fifteen
Deputy Michael Crane knocked three times at the door of Tucker’s room on the second floor of the saloon in Clarendon, the overwhelming stench of whiskey hitting at his nostrils the moment he came up to the door. He waited impatiently after knocking three times. Tucker didn’t answer, despite the fact that Crane thumped his fist hard on the door.
