She headed up to the butcher’s counter and greeted him with a smile, collecting herself.
“Good morning. Are there any fresh beef sides in?” she asked.
“Yes ma’am, got a whole bunch of fresh cuts in. Been ordering up to prepare for the jubilee,” Mr. Reynolds said as he wiped his hands on a rag.
“Excellent, let me get a pound of ground and three steaks,” Laura replied.
Mr. Reynolds wrapped the meats in paper as Laura waited. He handed the parcels over to her and she handed back her coins.
“Have a lovely day!” she said, as she headed out.
When she emerged back onto the street, Jacob was nowhere in sight.
Thank goodness. I can’t go back there, not yet. I can’t stand the stares, the planning, the “Oh dear, you’ll be alright, just you wait,” over and over again.
Laura began walking toward home. She walked past the ladies chattering and gossiping, the little shop windows, the bakery lined with fresh buns and loaves, and the hatter placing his newest designs out. She kept walking, down the street and toward the livery.
As she walked, her thoughts continued to wander.
What cruel twist of fate has allowed me to find such freedom here, only to have it snatched away from me? I don’t see a future with Jacob, besides quietly working at home while he goes on and on about all his grand plans. Where do I fit in there, except to bring him children? And could we ever truly love each other?
Try as she might, no answer would come. She began to believe it was because there was no answer. The fact was, as much as she might want to follow her heart, she was backed into a corner. Nowhere to run without endangering her entire family.
When she arrived, Mr. Leary was puttering away underneath the carriage. Laura stared at the thing, and despite the chill in the air already, it seemed even colder when she looked at it. Mr. Leary shuffled out from underneath the carriage, which is when he noticed Laura and startled a bit.
“Miss Edmonds! So sorry, didn’t see ye there. Still goin’ tae be some time afore this is ready fer ye.” He looked at her apologetically. “Things are in a bit more disarray than I expected ‘round here, especially since my man just up an’ disappeared t’day.”
“No need to worry, Mr. Leary. I just thought I’d stop in and look at it,” Laura said calmly.
“O’ course, take a gander. I’ve fitted it with new seats, new fixtures, an’ now I’m workin’ on new wheels an’ axle so it’ll ride smooth an’ safe,” Mr. Leary said proudly. “Care tae take a seat?” he asked, as he swung the carriage door open.
“Sure,” Laura said, slightly hesitant. She took his hand and climbed up inside the carriage.
“Ye take yer time, miss. I just need tae see tae a couple o’ things, be back in a tick,” Mr. Leary said, leaving Laura alone in the carriage.
She ran her hands along the dark wooden walls and felt the fresh leather seats underneath her. The golden filigrees were freshly polished. She could tell Mr. Leary had been putting quite a bit of work in. This was the spirit of Santa Clara she adored. Give anyone a job to do, and they would shine like stars until its completion. Mr. Leary was an honest man who wanted to do good, honest work.
Even without Jacob, it still feels like a funeral carriage. I hate traveling in a box, no wind on my face, just endless bumps and shakes. This is it. This will take me to Tucson, and that is where I’ll stay. Wife to Jacob Fisher and mother to his children. That is who I’ll become. Laura Edmonds will no longer exist. This time in Utah may as well never have happened. It will all be erased.
She leaned back against the seat, the weight of everything finally hitting her. A tear ran down her cheek. She brushed it away roughly with her sleeve.
It won’t be all bad, Mama and Father will, hopefully, be close enough to visit regularly. Utah was never permanent anyway. I just wish…I wish it wasn’t…Jacob.
Laura thought of Jacob’s pathetic, stumbling figure in town earlier. Where Abe was a strong, sturdy man, the kind that made her feel safe and calm, Jacob felt as if he was as solid as a stalk of wheat in a field, both morally and physically. She sat quietly in the carriage, trying to come to peace with it, but no peace would come. Only more tears, so many that she couldn’t brush them all away by the time Mr. Leary came back.
“Miss Edmonds! What’s the matter? Is something wrong with the carriage? I swear I been doin’ everythin’ tae yer fiancés specifications, but I’m happy tae fix anythin’ ye like,” Mr. Leary stammered, unsure of what to do about the crying woman in his carriage.
“No, I’m sorry, nothing is wrong with the carriage. Just been a difficult day, sir,” Laura said, as she tried to wipe her cheeks dry. “I best be on my way. My family will be wondering where I’ve gone,” she said, as she extended her hand for Mr. Leary to help her down.
“Ye take care miss, an’ I hope yer day gets better,” he said, with a reassuring pat on her hand.
She walked back out the door and toward the center of town, still lost in her thoughts.
I never told him.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her. Before she could turn around, strong burly arms wrapped around her and a cloth was clamped to her mouth. She tried to scream but the huge hand silenced her. Then everything faded into darkness.
Chapter Twenty-One
That same morning, Abe was sitting at Ottie’s desk in the jailhouse. The cells were empty, as they usually were. Santa Clara was a remarkably quiet town, so Ottie’s job wasn’t too difficult, outside the occasional drunk sleeping it off in the cell for the night or a dispute. It was a good life. Ottie had always been a quiet, but earnest man, even as a boy. He didn’t like mess or disorder. He was kind and fair, and as such was well-respected by all, making his job even easier. He often only had to throw a disapproving look toward a troublemaker and they would straighten up as if caught by their own mother.
Ottie and Abe’s friendship was well-balanced. They cared for each other like brothers and kept each other out of trouble as much as they could. Well, it was often more Ottie keeping Abe out of trouble. While Abe liked a quiet life, he had a bit of a temper which had betrayed him on more than one occasion.
Abe often came by the jailhouse when he was in town to share a chat or a lunch or a drink. Today, Ottie was sharing the gorgeous lunch his wife had prepared. She was a fabulous cook and Abe was happily munching on a thick ham sandwich while fiddling with a length of rope.
“How’s the missus, Ottie?” Abe asked, as he knotted and re-knotted the rope.
“Can’t complain. The little one’ll be here soon,” Ottie said, from the other side of a desk, as he took a swig of whiskey out of his hip flask.
“First one. Are you excited?” Abe asked, as Ottie passed him the whiskey.
“Eh,” Ottie grunted.
“Eloquent as always, friend,” Abe said, as he took a swig and handed it back.
Ottie grunted and smiled.
“What I really wanted to talk about is why, all of a sudden, you’re sitting across from me, at my jailhouse, in town, in the middle of the morning,” Ottie said to Abe, with a raised eyebrow.
“Can I not just drop by for a visit, time and again?” Abe asked, as he pulled the knot in his hands tight.
“Not without me wondering what’s actually going on, which, unless Abe Mavor is dead and you are a very convincing imposter, you are never going to tell me. Doesn’t mean I ain’t going to at least try to ask,” Ottie said, as he settled back into his chair and reached for the whiskey.
“Just sitting in for a visit Ottie. Nothin else,” Abe said, as he passed the flask back.
“Uh huh,” Ottie said. He took a long swig.
“Ready for the roping competition end of the month?” Abe asked.
“Always am,” Ottie replied.
“You ever going to compete in single?” Abe asked casually.
“What? And go up against the king?” he said, gesturing to Abe. “No way. Ain’t worth the price of entry. I’d rather be on
your team than against you any day,” Ottie said with a chuckle.
They both sat in a contented silence for a few minutes, passing the flask back and forth. After a while, Abe spoke.
“Want to go for a ride Ottie? Like old times. Head up to the ridge?” Abe offered.
Ottie looked around the jailhouse. “And leave this lawless town without a sheriff? God knows what hell would break loose,” he said with a laugh.
With that, both men stood up and headed outside. Bruce picked his head up when he saw Abe emerge and whinnied playfully. Midnight quietly shifted next to him.
As Abe untied Bruce, a stumbling figure caught his eye.
Jacob.
Abe watched as Jacob stumbled across the street from the saloon and toward the hotel. Then he paused. Abe followed his gaze to where he was looking.
Laura.
Her blonde waves peeked out from under her hat as she headed inside the butcher shop. He could still see her eyes, looking at him, through him, in the hayloft.
“C’mon now, Abe. I ain’t in the mood to be breaking up any fights today. Leave him be.” Ottie’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah, ain’t worth it,” Abe replied.
They both swung themselves up onto their horses. With a quick “Ha!” they were off, the dust of the street billowing up behind them. The town melted away behind them as they rode out across the plane and toward the ridge. The cold air numbed Abe’s hands on the reigns as he rode, but Bruce didn’t need much guidance. He had ridden this route many times.
Ottie kept pace with Abe as they galloped up the rising ridgeline. The landscape was still dusted with a thin layer of snow, which got deeper as they got higher up.
Finally, they found themselves at the overlook, where the ground ended in an abrupt cliff and there was nothing to spoil the view in front of them. With the strong mountain to their backs, the land spilled out in front of them for miles. Santa Clara was a small cluster of buildings far off in the distance. Abe could spot his ranch just outside town, and Aunt Ethel’s house as well.
“I’m never gonna get tired of this,” Ottie said, as he slid off Midnight’s back.
“Yeah, me neither,” Abe said, as he stayed atop Bruce, the two of them sitting in silent reverence.
Ottie began to rustle around the trees, gathering some stray wood for a fire. He dug out a small circle in the snow and stacked up the logs, lighting them with a strike of the flint he carried in his saddlebag.Abe joined him by the fire, bringing with him a small coffee pot and a tin of coffee he had stashed in his own saddlebag. He melted some snow in the pot and set the coffee to brew, warming his wind-numbed hands at the same time.
The two sat and looked out at the view, their horses standing near them. They sat in the quiet reverence that only friends who’ve known each other almost all their lives could. As the coffee finished brewing in the rough tin pot on the fire, they both poured a cup and drank, the warm liquid chasing off the chill.
“I know you fancied her, Abe,” Ottie said suddenly.
“Who?” Abe asked, in a feigned effort of surprise.
Ottie continued, not phased by Abe’s denial. “Only reason you could have possibly wanted to knock that Jacob Fisher’s teeth out, would have been over Miss Laura. I’m not stupid. You been brooding since he got to town and that stunt the other night was not much of a puzzler.”
“Well, what’s done is done. No use talking about it,” Abe said.
“That’s fine, I’ve said my piece. She was good for you though, haven’t seen a stupid grin on your face, like you had when she was around, since we were kids,” Ottie chuckled.
“Jenna Mormont,” Abe laughed.
“Oh, Jenna Mormont. There wasn’t a boy alive in Utah that wouldn’t cross oceans to make that girl smile,” Ottie remembered fondly.
“Laura isn’t Jenna though, she is something…unique,” Abe said, his mind drifting back to the construction work on the house. Her smile. The first time his hand touched hers.
He realized Ottie was staring at him with a sneaky grin.
“God damnit, Ottie,” Abe shouted as he threw his hat at him.
“Hey, it worked. I know my friend that’s all.” Ottie laughed, as he caught the hat. He then pulled the hip flask out and poured a long pour into Abe’s coffee, then his own.
He raised his cup to Abe in a toast.
“To the women that drive us mad,” Ottie said.
Abe raised his cup and tapped it against Ottie’s. The two of them downed the spiked coffee, as the sun sank into the late afternoon.
“Well, there’s a lady at home that’ll be missing me if I’m out too late,” Ottie finally said.
“Yeah, it’s about time we got back,” Abe replied.
They shoveled some snow onto the coals of the fire and mounted up their horses. Before they headed out, Abe took a long look at Ottie.
“Thank you,” he said solemnly.
“Any time, brother,” Ottie replied, with a nod.
And with that they were off, racing toward the setting sun. Two brothers. Abe was grateful for Ottie in ways he didn’t know how to fully express.
As they got closer to town, the sun was disappearing behind the horizon. The town glowed a soft orange with the light of the many fireplaces. With a glance to each other, Abe pulled Bruce away and toward his ranch and Ottie continued on toward town.
As Abe neared his ranch, there was no warm light. That was behind him. The cabin was dark and cold. He rode Bruce into the barn and bedded him down for the night. Then he walked through the silent evening to his house. The quiet hadn’t bothered him before as much as it did now. There was something deep in his gut that would not settle…
* * *
As Ottie rode into town, he could feel a strange shift in the air. As he and Midnight approached the jailhouse, he could see a figure standing on the porch. Reaching the porch, he saw Xavier Edmonds standing at the door, wringing his hands.
“Are you the sheriff?” Xavier asked.
“Yes, I am. Is there a problem sir?” Ottie replied.
“I think there might be. My daughter Laura went out shopping today. She hasn’t come back,” Xavier said, his eyes fraught with worry.
“Anyone she might be with, a friend or relative?” Ottie asked calmly.
“No one, I already talked to her fiancé, he hasn’t seen her since she was at the butcher’s this afternoon,” Xavier replied.
Ottie searched his mind for an answer. No one just disappeared in Santa Clara.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sheriff Oratius sat in the living room of Ethel’s home, with the Edmonds and Jacob Fisher. Dorothy was wringing her hands and Xavier was leaning against the fireplace. Jacob was sitting, smoking feverishly on a pipe. Ottie spoke slowly and calmly, still trying to make sense of it all. People just didn’t disappear in Santa Clara, and Laura’s family were looking for answers where he had none.
“So, who was the last person to see Miss Laura?” Ottie asked.
“I saw her in town this morning, maybe around noon,” Jacob said.
“Did you speak with her at all? Did she give you an idea of anywhere she might be going today?” Ottie asked, as he jotted notes down in his small notepad.
“No, I was…busy with some business matters, and she seemed to be busy with her shopping,” Jacob replied.
“Anything anyone can think of that may have caused her to run off?” Ottie asked, as he kept writing.
Everyone looked to everyone else in the room, seemingly searching for some secret information that might be held.
“Laura’s not that kind of girl, she’s a good girl,” Xavier said, rubbing his temples.
“I’m sure she is, sir. I just can’t think of any reason someone would want to take her. I ain’t never seen something like this in Santa Clara,” Ottie said, scratching his head.
“I can think of someone,” Jacob said accusingly. “That maniac who attacked me in town. Clearly, he’s obsessed with her,
probably snatched her and took her back to whatever shack he lives in.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Fisher,” Aunt Ethel piped up fiercely. “But that man you’re referring to, happens to be a very close friend of mine, practically a son to me, and I do not like your implication that he would do any harm to Laura.”
“Excuse me, but that man attacked me! Or just because he fixed a few broken chairs that excuses random acts of violence,” Jacob spat back.
Ottie broke in. “If ya’ll are referring to Abe Mavor, I can assure you we can rule him out as a suspect.”
The Salvation 0f A Runaway Bride (Historical Western Romance) Page 15
