by Kristen Iten
Penlapp cleared his throat loudly. “I anticipated that family would arrive to see to your brother’s estate. Naturally, I thought it likely that you would want to be rid of the property.” He passed the paper to Abigail. “Your convenience was my sole motivation, I assure you.”
Abigail studied the paper in her hand.
“Everything is in order,” said Penlapp. “All you have to do is find a buyer. Fill in the names and the agreed upon price. Once it’s signed, it becomes a binding contract.”
“Thank you.” Abigail folded the paper and slipped it into her handbag. She stood to leave the office. Penlapp threw his gargantuan hands into the air and made a grand display of shaking his head in despair.
“I can’t do it,” he said. “I just can’t do it.”
“Do what?”
He rapped his knuckles on the desk. “Hand that paper back to me, Miss.”
Abigail reached into her handbag without a word and produced the bill of sale. Penlapp snatched it from her hand.
“I’ll sign it. I’ll sign it right now before I have a chance to change my mind. I can’t send you off with hopes of finding someone willing to buy that no-good piece of property. I’ll tell you right now, no one is going to touch it. If it were situated on the east side of town, you might have had a chance, but …” He dipped his pen in the ink well that sat on his desk. “I’ll buy the property.” He scrawled his name at the bottom of the contract, filling in the sale price before sliding the paper back to Abigail.
“I can’t give you what your brother paid for it, mind you. He didn’t know good Texas land from bad. I’ll pay you seventy-five cents on the dollar of what he paid.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s true; I am being overly generous. I’m actually shooting myself in the foot with this deal, but I liked your brother. I want to do right by him and you. Allow me to ease this burden for you.” He pressed the palms of his hands together in front of his nose and waited for Abigail to sign.
Despite the banker’s best attempts at looking caring, pious even, the whole show was so contrived that Abigail found it difficult to hide her disgust. She saw right through his charade. If he was willing to pay that much for the property, there was no doubt in her mind that it was worth every penny that her brother had paid, if not more.
However much she instinctively disliked the person sitting in front of her, the fact remained that she wanted to leave Texas behind her forever. The banker may have been trying to swindle her, but a quick sale was a tempting prospect. She could sign the paper now and be on the next stage out of town tomorrow afternoon. It wasn’t about the money for her. Selling the property meant closing the door on a broken dream.
“May I have the pen?” said Abigail.
Penlapp immediately handed over his pen. He leaned forward in his chair, and licked his lips, eyes glued to the paper he had prepared months before. Try not to salivate all over your desk, Mr. Penlapp.
The emotions Abigail had worked so hard all day to suppress hit like a tidal wave crashing ashore when she placed pen to paper. Her eyes welled up with grief. Once again, she looked at the world through a wall of water and could see nothing. I have to get out of here. She dropped the pen and shoved the paper into her handbag. Abigail hurried for the door.
Penlapp stood so abruptly that his chair toppled over backwards. “You haven’t signed—”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder as she made for the front door of the bank.
Jake was waiting outside the general store like he had promised when Abigail burst out of the bank. She came toward him in a hurry, face flushed, and eyes threatening to overflow. Jake pulled her into the narrow alleyway between the store and the bank.
“What happened in there?” Jake stood tall and rigid, jaw clenched. Heat flashed through his body at the thought of anyone daring to mistreat Abigail.
“Nothing,” she said between fluttering breaths. “I tried to, but I couldn’t do it.”
The concern on Jakes face disappeared. “You didn’t sell?”
“Not really.”
“What does that mean?” Jake asked.
“The banker already had a bill of sale written up. All I had to do was sign.”
“But you didn’t sign.”
“I meant to, but my hands started shaking. My heart was racing. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. All I could think about was …” Abigail placed a small hand over her mouth in an attempt to hold back the emotions rising up from deep within her.
Seeing Abigail in such distress affected Jake deeply. He rested a hand on her arm as pain churned in his own stomach. He wanted to whisper words that would take her sorrow away, but words failed him.
All it took was a kind look from Jake, and the floodgates released. Abigail’s shoulder’s shook as sobs escaped her lips. Jake threw caution to the wind and wrapped her in his arms. Her soft curves molded to his lean form like perfection. He rested his chin on her head and allowed his calm to soak into her. Jake wanted to be her safe place. He longed for a future that could never be.
Her sobs quieted after a bit, and she stepped back to dry her tears.
“Sorry about that,” she said.
“Nothing to apologize for. Let’s step on into the General Store and buy a couple of plates of whatever it is they’re selling that smells so good. We can enjoy one last supper together.” Jake cringed as soon as the words left his mouth.
“Last supper?” Abigail looked up at Jake with questioning eyes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you just now. It didn’t seem like the right time.”
“Tell me what?” said Abigail.
“My mining party leaves at first light tomorrow morning.”
Abigail finished drying her face with the back of her sleeve.
“That’s exciting for you.” Despite giving it her best effort, the smile she put on was feeble at best. Jake saw the disappointment in her eyes, but didn’t speak of his budding feelings. Sharing his heart would make his impending departure all the more unbearable.
“Dinner is a good idea,” she said. “We can watch the sun set tonight, and I’ll come see you off in the morning.”
Chapter 10
Abigail’s eyes fluttered open. Sunlight streamed in through the window next to her bed. She lay still for a moment and watched through half-closed eyes as tiny particles of dust floated around in the warm rays of the sun. Her body had finally succumbed to sleep only a few hours before. A night filled with tossing and turning had left her with dark circles under her eyes and a splitting headache.
A yellow-breasted songbird landed on her windowsill and announced morning had fully arrived. Abigail jolted upright when her mind suddenly cleared. She threw on her dress as quickly as she could and ran down the stairs.
The cool of early morning was quickly being replaced by the heat of day. Miss Rosie was sweeping the front porch when Abigail came flying out the front door.
“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” she asked.
“I have to see Jake before he leaves.” Abigail hit the road running, doing her best to smooth her disheveled hair along the way.
“They’ve already gone,” called Rosie.
Abigail was so caught up in the moment that the words didn’t have a chance to sink in.
The morning stage had already arrived a few minutes earlier. Several people were milling about on the street. Passengers were disembarking and luggage was being untethered. Abigail had only one thought on her mind. I have to see him one last time. She ducked and dodged her way through the small crowd that had gathered near the stage.
A young stagehand stood on top of the stagecoach, loosening the ropes that held the passengers’ luggage secure. A large barrel filled with goods for the general store slipped off the roof and rolled straight for Abigail. With only a moment to react, she leapt to the side to avoid being crushed. Her foot caught the edge of a deep rut that had been left in the road during the last h
eavy rain. The sun had long since baked it as hard as a rock. She was about to topple over on the uneven ground when a man caught her from behind.
“I’m sorry, Miss. Are you all right?” The stagehand looked more shaken up than Abigail.
“I’m fine,” she said. “This gentleman caught me.” She turned to face her good Samaritan. “Thank …” Words failed her as she looked into the face of the man who had just caught her.
“It would seem we are fated to be together, my dear,” he said.
Abigail’s mouth hung open for a moment before she spoke. “Dr. Price? What are you doing here?”
“You may drop the formalities. We are engaged to be married, after all. You may call me William when my patients are not present.”
There he stood in all of his bland glory. A sweatier version of the same detestable man Abigail had left behind was standing in front of her.
“Leave it to your brother to choose to settle in the most dismal town in this abysmal place.” His eyes roved over the small town around them. “Why anyone would want to live here is beyond me,” he said.
The shock of seeing William Price in Sweet Creek was beginning to wear off. The dampness from his perpetually moist palm seeped into Abigail’s sleeve. She looked down and realized he had never released her arm. She tried to shrug his hand off, but his grip only tightened.
“Let go of my arm.” Abigail pulled, but Price did not budge.
“Do stop acting like a child. I have been forced to endure the indignity of chasing you halfway across the country. I warn you not to embarrass me further.” A familiar look crossed his face. It was a look that told Abigail that his true nature was about to peek out from behind his polished facade once again.
Abigail pushed against him with her free arm and tried to wrestle her other arm from his grasp.
“I said let go.” The intensity of her voice attracted the attention of the small crowd around them. All eyes were now fixed on the scene unfolding at the side of the road. Her eyes blazed with anger as hot blood rushed into her cheeks.
“Here now, what are you doing to that young lady?” James Penlapp’s deep voice boomed out over the commotion.
“You would do well to stay out of this, sir. She is my fiancé. I’m taking her home where she belongs.”
“Your fiancé?” said Penlapp. “If I had known you were coming to town, I wouldn’t have wasted an afternoon talking business with a woman.”
Fury churned in the pit of her stomach. Abigail’s cheeks turned yet a deeper shade of crimson. Her eyes flashed like those of a wild animal caught in a trap. The two men talked over her as if she weren’t even there.
“What business?” said Price.
“I offered to buy her late brother’s useless piece of property for seventy cents on the dollar. She didn’t even have the good sense to sign the contract.”
“Late brother?” William Price looked at Abigail and spoke with such condescension in his voice that it turned her stomach. “Just like our dear aunt predicted,” he said. He turned his attention to Penlapp. “Consider it sold. Have my money ready by this afternoon. We’ll be leaving on the first stage out of here in the morning. I don’t want to stay in this town a moment longer than I have to.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Abigail pounded on his chest, but his fingers only bit deeper into her flesh. She refused to show the pain it caused her.
“If you wish to act like a child, I will treat you like a child.” He raised his arm to strike her, but a strong hand caught it before he could land the blow.
Sheriff Lagrange towered over Abigail’s short, gray adversary. “Let the lady go.”
“I’ll tell you the same thing I’ve told others,” said Price, jerking his arm away. “This is my fiancé. Stay out of it.”
“I am not his fiancé!”
Still Dr. Price continued his savage hold on her arm.
Micah Lagrange placed his right hand on the pistol that hung at his side. He sized up Dr. Price through squinted eyes, his weather-worn face unflinching.
“Are you hard of hearing?” he said. “Turn her loose.”
Abigail’s eyes widened when she saw Micah’s hand resting on the pearl handle of his six-shooter. Miss Rosie had spoken of Micah Lagrange’s reputation. According to her, there wasn’t an ounce of bluff or bluster in his entire body. He may have been a man of few words but when he spoke, he meant every word he said. There was no doubt in Abigail’s mind, William Price would release her one way or another.
Price’s eyes darted from the sheriff’s unblinking stare to his long fingers tapping rhythmically on the leather holster strapped to his thigh. He swallowed audibly and licked his lips, eyes blinking wildly. He released Abigail’s arm.
Price quickly retreated behind his mask of superiority. He looked at the sheriff through half-closed eyelids and tugged on his overgrown sideburns as he spoke. “You really should not concern yourself with this matter. My fiancé is merely a child throwing a tantrum because she does not wish to be told what to do.”
“I’m not his fiancé,” Abigail said.
Price looked at the sheriff and spoke over Abigail again without so much as looking in her direction. “She is a stupid girl who doesn’t know what is good for her.”
Abigail’s jaw hung slack. His blatant disregard for her never ceased to amaze.
“Well, which is it? Is she a child, or is she your fiancé?” Micah’s large mustache overhung his mouth and was the only part of his face that moved as he spoke.
“It is obvious that she is both,” said Price.
“Around here, if a lady is old enough to be married, she’s old enough to make her own decisions.” He turned to Abigail. His hardened features melted into a fatherly smile. “Miss Abigail, do you want to go with this man?”
“Absolutely not.”
“That settles it then,” said Micah. “Enjoy what’s left of your morning, ma’am.” He touched the brim of his hat and gave her a nod.
“Thank you, sheriff.”
Abigail was eager to get to the mining camp, but when she turned to walk away, her eyes met those of James Penlapp. She walked up to the hulking man. He was a foot taller than her and easily outweighed her by two hundred pounds. That fact did nothing to cool her temper. It was time for Abigail to have her say. She opened her mouth, and the words poured out.
“Seventy cents on the dollar? I knew you were swindling me yesterday when you offered seventy-five cents on the dollar. I was willing to go along with it because it meant I could leave this place but not anymore. You have shown yourself to be a cheat and a liar two times over. You can consider the deal off because I’m not going anywhere.”
She spun on her heels, and her eyes landed on Price. “And as for you, Dr. Price,” she said. Abigail marched up to the doctor with fire in her eyes. “You have no right to speak for me or sell my property. We have never been engaged, and we never will be.”
Abigail marched down the road toward the mining camp, fists still clenched as she went.
Dr. Price’s tiny eyes narrowed when laughter rippled through the crowd at his expense. He moved to follow Abigail as she left the spectacle behind, but Micah stepped in his path.
“You’re heading in the wrong direction, Mister,” he said.
Penlapp caught Price’s attention and motioned him over with a nod of his head. Price, unwilling to press the issue further with the sheriff, left the scene with the banker. Not a word passed between them as they walked to the bank.
A thin man with a bulging lower lip filled with chewing tobacco was seated on the steps of the bank when the two arrived. His boots held only an echo of their former glory. The tooled leather was well-worn and had faded from long hours on the trail. A salt stained hat sat on top of his head.
“Go on in,” said Penlapp. “I have a little business to discuss with this gentleman. I’ll join you presently.”
The doctor waited for the wiry man to make room for him to pass but was only met with
a challenging stare. The man shot a stream of brown tinged spittle near Price’s feet with pinpoint accuracy. He wiped a trail of saliva from the corner of his mouth with the back of his sleeve. His hard eyes bored into the doctor. Price had never felt more insignificant in all his life.
“Excuse me,” said Price. He stepped around the uncooperative man and into the bank, avoiding the wet pile of used chewing tobacco the man had flung to the ground earlier that morning.
The banker exchanged a few words with the man before they parted ways. Penlapp entered the bank, and the man walked off in the direction of the livery stable.
Chapter 11
A deserted camp met Abigail’s eyes when she reached the edge of town. Black sooty patches of scarred earth dotted the ground where campfires had burned only the night before. The camp was as empty as she felt inside. She trained her eyes on the horizon, trying to catch a glimpse of the party, but it was no use. They were long gone.
A makeshift corral stood alone at the edge of the silent camp. It had been filled to capacity earlier today, but now it only held the memory of braying donkeys and lazy pack horses. Abigail wandered over and leaned on a corner post. She massaged her aching throat, unsure how much longer she would be able to hold back her tears.
She slid down the post and sat in the dirt with her face in her hands. Jonathan was gone. Jake was gone. She couldn’t go home—not now. She was alone in the world. Abigail drew her knees to her chest and cried silently into her skirt.
A warm hand came to rest on her shoulder.
“Abby?”
Abigail knew the voice well. She leapt to her feet and turned, throwing her arms around Jake’s neck. “I don’t understand,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t leave you like this. I want to take you home.”
A thrill of excitement shot through her body and settled in her stomach. Her cheeks flushed when she realized she still held him tightly. She let go and took a step backward, composing herself.
