by Sadie Conall
When the lawyer advised her to go home and obey her father’s wishes, Ella gave up, defeated, accepting her fate.
She kicked Bear into a harder run, swearing softly at the unfairness of her sex and as she pushed Bear on, the silk and satin wedding dress billowed out behind her even as she tried to keep it bunched tight around her knees in an effort to stop the mud splattering the expensive material. And as the pins came loose in her hair, she tried to grab them before they were lost in the earth below the horse’s pounding hooves for Ella didn’t have the money to replace them.
As she turned south, as Bear snorted from the effort of the hard run, Ella didn’t see the man on horseback half a mile behind her, riding along the rutted road which led to the house. Nor did she see him stop to watch her as she kicked Bear on, pushing the old horse even harder.
5
Ella heard Martha talking to someone as she approached the open kitchen door. And then the smell of hot sweet biscuits straight out of the oven wafted out to meet her, along with the sound of bacon sizzling in a pan. Yet they had no money for such luxuries, so where had Martha got the money for this treat?
She stepped up on the porch but stopped when she heard Martha laughing, a rare sound in the house these days. And then the sound of a man’s voice, a deep baritone. He spoke too quietly for Ella to hear what he said, but of one thing she was sure. This was no-one she knew. This voice owned none of the angry tones which belonged to Milton, nor the thick lechery treacle which lay embedded in Jedediah’s voice.
No, this man’s voice was young, a sound as lush as velvet, a thing as pure as a caress on hot skin. This was a voice of beauty. This was a voice a woman could fall in love with.
She took a step forward but again stopped, unsure whether she should disturb Martha when once again, the older woman laughed. Intrigued now, Ella stepped into the kitchen.
Martha turned to stare at her in horror. She wasn’t aware that Ella had taken Bear for a run. And now the girl stood with her hair hanging long and loose to her waist, most of her pins lost within the fields, her boots muddy, the silk and lace gloves ripped and stained, the exquisite wedding dress and petticoats hanging in untidy folds about Ella’s long legs, the material covered in splatters of mud. Even Ella’s flawless complexion was smeared with mud, where she had wiped the satin gloves across her face, to clear away the tears. But as Ella’s hazel green eyes turned to the man sitting at the kitchen table, Martha thought the girl had never looked so lovely nor so vulnerable, as she stood there in the doorway in that wedding dress.
The man stumbled to his feet, knocking the table in his haste, his eyes wide with astonishment at the vision of her, yet as she held his dark eyes set within a face that was young, yet worn, yet utterly beautiful, something about him made her stop and be still. Then she took a step towards him, drawn to him, before Martha stepped in front of her, coming between them, scolding her for her untidy appearance and for wearing the expensive dress in such a reckless manner.
Yet Ella barely heard Martha’s words. Indeed, she couldn’t take her eyes off the stranger. He seemed only a few years older than herself, more than a foot taller, as dark as she was pale, with several day’s growth of beard claiming a strong square jaw. He owned an olive complexion with black eyes framed by dark lashes and his mouth, half hidden by the beard, suggested strength. She stared at him in confusion, then felt Martha’s hand on her arm, an unusual hardness to her touch as she pulled the girl towards her.
“Ella, look at you girl, you are a sight! And in your wedding dress! What were you thinking! Goodness, whatever will Milton say, let alone Jebediah!” She pushed Ella towards the hallway door. “Go on, off with you! Get out of that dress before you do more damage to it. And clean yourself up before you come back down and join us for breakfast,” she turned and nodded towards the bacon frying in the pan, along with the fresh bread buns and the muslin and calico bags of flour, salt and coffee beans, all sitting on the bench. “Lord knows we have enough of it.”
Ella glanced back at the man who was still watching her, his huge frame seeming to fill the kitchen, even as Martha pushed her into the darkened hallway.
“Off with you girl, you look half wild. For pity’s sake get out of that dress. Jebediah would have your head were he to see you now. Go! Clean yourself up then come back down and hear our news.”
“I’ll need your help in getting out of this, Martha! I can’t undo all these buttons by myself!”
Sighing, Martha hurried after her, pulling her into the study at the front of the house. Her hands moved quickly, undoing the satin covered buttons that reached from the neck all the way down the back of the dress. It was a stunning creation.
“Who is he, Martha? Why is he here?”
“Oh, I can’t speak about it now, just hurry and get changed Ella. Oh, I can smell the bacon. Hurry, girl. Off with you.”
But as Martha rushed back to the kitchen, she found the young man turning the bacon for her. He smiled and stepped back as Martha took over and as she thanked him, she heard Ella running up the stairs to her small room at the top of the landing.
Martha felt obligated to apologize for Ella’s appearance, but she couldn’t. Nor would she have to, not after the conversation she’d just shared with this young man, for she’d told him of Quentin’s death and Milton’s arrival here, along with the impending nuptials between Ella and Jebediah Crawley. She explained that despite Ella’s wish that the marriage didn’t go ahead, the girl had little chance of stopping it, for by doing so she would be going against her uncle’s wishes and the most powerful man in the county and Martha was sure that one way or the other, either by blackmail or by threats, Milton and Jebediah would have their way and Ella would do exactly as they bid.
Martha offered the stranger another glass of water which he took with gratitude. She glanced at him as his big hand gently took the glass from her and although she was a woman in her early fifties and a widow these past seventeen years with her days of lusting after handsome young men well and truly behind her, this young fellow was indeed a sight to behold.
He was tall and lean yet with a muscular body, and there was something about him that drew her to him. She had felt it the moment she opened the door to him less than an hour before. And she had just seen it in Ella, when the girl stepped into the kitchen. Perhaps it was his eyes, dark and full of fire, giving the hint of a man who would stand on the side of all that was right.
“I’m guessing that’s her?” he asked, his voice causing Martha to think of maple syrup on pancakes on a warm spring day, for there was nothing hard about that voice.
Martha turned as he sat back down at the table, his tall hard body seeming to fold into the chair with an easy grace. Yes, he was a sight to behold alright, although she had a feeling he wasn’t aware of it, for there was nothing overtly charming or seductive about him. Indeed, if anything, there was a hardness to him and Martha wondered what had happened in his life for this young man to own such strength, for she doubted he had yet turned thirty. She nodded and turned back to the bacon.
“Yes, that’s her. And like I said, I won’t leave her, regardless of what you’re offering me. For I’ve been taking care of her and her daddy for more than fifteen years and I’m not about to walk out on her now, not when she’s being bullied into marrying a man she wants no part of. I reckon that girl needs me now more than ever,” she paused, but the stranger said nothing, just sat quietly watching her. Martha decided she liked that about him, that he didn’t offer his opinion. She liked that a lot.
“And I can’t change the fact that I’m her Aunt, so even though I’m tempted by your offer, I won’t leave her behind. As for my son, if what you’re saying is true and I got no reason to believe you’re lying, not after reading that letter you brought me, well, in all truth I don’t rightly know him anymore. I certainly can’t imagine him a grown man. Willard left these parts when he was a lad of eighteen, some fourteen years ago, although I don’t begrudge him that, for a man
’s got to make his own way in the world, away from his Mama’s apron strings. And he was never a man to tend the land. He always aimed for city life, so he was here less than a year before he hightailed it out. So just so you know my feelings on the matter, my son is a stranger to me. Although your telling me he’s a fancy bookkeeping man is a surprise, as is his offer. As to the letter you say he sent me a year or so ago? Well, I never received it. To be honest, I can’t really say what I would have done had I read it. Anyway, here I am in these awful times and here you are. But I’ll tell you again, I won’t leave her.”
She glanced once more at the young man but still he said nothing, so she turned back to take the cooked bacon out of the pan and lay it on a plate. She heard him get up from the table and go and stand in the doorway, looking out over the ranch. And then he turned to her.
“I understand your reasons for not leaving and under the circumstances, I do admire you for it. But this offer is not negotiable. It’s either a yes, or a no, agreed on this morning. For like I said before, I can’t wait on a decision from you as I have commitments of my own to attend to, and I’m under some considerable pressure to fulfil them,” he paused, turning once more to look out across the ranch.
“So if agreeable to you, once breakfast is done, I’ll be on my way as it seems likely I’ll be returning to Independence alone. But I’ll pass on your decision and your reasons for it to your son.”
Martha paused in dishing out the bacon, feeling his words hit her like a blow. She hadn’t thought it would be over so quickly, but this young man clearly wasn’t one to waste his time.
“Although I think it’s a shame you can’t join Willard and his family. They were looking forward to seeing you.”
Again, Martha felt a keen sense of loss at his words. For a moment she couldn’t speak, knowing the opportunity to be with her son after all these years was slipping out of her grasp and would soon be lost forever. But Martha also knew she would never forgive herself if she left Ella here alone, to be bullied by two mean spirited men. She glanced over at the young man as he leaned against the door frame, startled to find he had turned to watch her.
“I thank you for your concern,” she said, taking a breath. “And although I would dearly love to accept what you’re offering, I can’t leave Ella to fight this battle alone. She’ll either end up with nothing, with Milton taking it all, or she’ll marry Jebediah and live a life of misery until his death. And just to spite her, the man would probably leave her a pauper. No, I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”
He nodded, satisfied the decision had been made, although he noticed Martha’s hands tremble a little as she turned to break the six eggs he had brought with him. And he realized then that although she acted tough, and she believed she had made the right decision, clearly she was unhappy about it. He watched as the eggs broke cleanly against the side of the pan, before dropping into the hot fat.
“These sure are a luxury,” she said, glancing over at him, as he stood quietly watching her. She might have felt intimidated by another man standing so close yet strangely, Martha didn’t feel threatened by this man for even though he watched her, his mind seemed focused on something else.
“Our ranch chickens stopped laying months ago, so we had no choice but to make better use of them not long after my brother-in-law’s death. And that was a dreadful time, believe me. I didn’t think Ella and Jasper would come out of their grief. But then Milton showed up and things got worse, with Ella and him fighting over something almost every day. Just shows the strength of that girl’s character for she don’t hesitate to pull him up on all his lazy, selfish ways. But if truth be truth, I know she ain’t got no hope of winning against him and Jebediah. Not one hope.”
Martha heard the stranger move and glanced up as he stepped out onto the porch and looked across the yard to the barn. Even from here Martha could just make out the farm wagon inside the big double doors. They hardly used it these days, only to get supplies once a month in Chesterfield but even those days were coming to an end as their money ran out. Times were changing, and changing fast.
She used a big flat spoon to scoop the fried eggs out of the pan fat, as the young man stepped back into the kitchen and came to stand in the doorway which led into the hall so he could face her. Martha glanced up at him, the bulk of him filling the doorway, blocking out the light.
“As I understand it,” he said, speaking slowly as if deep in thought, “the girl has no obligation to stay here and marry this neighbor. She’s only staying because she has no money or prospects and nowhere else to go. Am I right in that?” he asked.
Martha looked up at him as he towered above her. And somewhere between the smell of bacon and fried eggs she caught the scent of horse and man along with something like jasmine or honeysuckle. Had he bathed with herbs? She found the thought of that pleasing.
“No, she has no obligation to stay. No-one can legally drag her back here if she were to leave. But until someone agrees on a price for this place, she can’t leave. She might as well have a rock tied around her ankle, keeping her here. And as Jebediah is the only one willing to buy the ranch on the condition Ella marries him, she’ll marry him just to keep us all from starving. For there’s hardly any money left and what there is, Milton takes into Chesterfield and spends it in one of the saloons. And there ain’t nothing we can do to stop him, for he sees that money as legally half his. Too bad if we see nothing of it. So yes, Ella will do it. She’ll marry the old leech just to give me and Jasper a home, along with Bear and Billy. Anyway, once those Banns are read in Church this Saturday, she’s as good as gone,” she began pulling pieces of bread apart before lathering them with hot bacon grease.
The young man frowned as he leaned against the door frame. “So why can’t she re-negotiate the sale of the ranch herself? If she can sell it out from under her uncle, then why can’t she come with us?” he glanced out the door towards the barn. “I can see a decent looking wagon out there and that will get her to California easily enough. So what’s to stop her coming with us?”
6
Ella heard his voice as she came down the stairs and then paused as Martha began speaking rapidly, her voice high pitched and full of excitement.
Frowning, Ella hurried down the rest of the stairs and into the hallway but found the door into the kitchen blocked by the stranger. She reached up and tapped him on the shoulder to get him to move, but he jumped as though touched with a hot iron. Her first thought was that he moved well for a big man, her second thought was astonishment that she could spook him so easily. She laughed, seeing the funny side of it as he continued to back away towards the table. Clearly he wasn’t amused and clearly, he wasn’t a man made for fun.
She glanced across at Martha who was wiping her eyes on the apron she wore to protect the front of her dress. Then Martha surprised her by reaching out and taking her hand, pulling her close, before turning to the stranger.
“Ella honey, let me introduce Mr Marrok Gauvain. Mr Gauvain, my niece Ella Torray.”
Ella reached out and took his hand, immediately aware of the strength of the man as he grasped her hand within his own and then she felt the heat of him. Startled, she let his hand go, yet held his gaze for a moment longer, surprised by how dark his eyes were. There was something hard in his face, but Ella saw a beauty there as well and felt that this was a man she could trust. She turned back to Martha, aware she could still feel the man’s touch on her hand.
“What’s this all about Martha? Why are you upset?”
“I’m not upset, honey. In fact Mr Gauvain is here on behalf of my son, Willard. But we’ll talk on it later after breakfast, for I don’t want all this good food getting cold. Now go ring for Jasper so we can sit down.” She was pleased to see Ella’s hair pinned up, her face cleaned of mud, the wedding dress gone and her usual muslin dress back on, along with polished boots.
Ella stepped past Marrok, unaware he was as surprised by her as she was of him for he had expected to meet a spoile
d brat, not this rebellious wild creature who rode a horse in an elegant wedding dress. For Willard had explained to Marrok who might be living here with his mother. Yet the young girl Willard remembered from fourteen years ago had clearly grown into a young woman who knew her own mind.
Although Marrok could see that Ella had suffered. It was there, in her eyes, a depth of grief someone only knows when they’ve lost someone they love very much.
“Oh Ella, do hurry and ring the bell for Jasper. Lord knows I can’t think at the moment. But Mr Gauvain will explain everything once breakfast is done. And the sooner the better, for we’ve all got some big decisions to make.”
Ella stepped out onto the porch and swung a piece of tattered rope tied to an old brass bell. She wasn’t aware of the man’s eyes following her, but they were, as she pulled on the rope allowing the bell to echo out across the front yard and into the fields. Jasper heard it from inside the barn and came running, holding his own plate and mug, his gait slow and a little awkward as though his knee joints pained him.
He called out a hearty good morning then moved to sit on the top stoop. In the winter he ate with the family at the kitchen table, but the rest of the year he preferred to sit outside in the fresh air.
Ella took his plate and mug and handed both to Martha, who filled his mug with coffee and a good helping of the hot bread, bacon and eggs. Ella left the kitchen door open and if Marrok thought it unusual to have a member of their staff listen in on their conversation, he said nothing. He moved to sit at the table as Martha dished up a plate of food for him, passing it to Ella to serve him.
Then Ella joined him at the end of the table, as Martha sat opposite. They talked of little things while they ate, of the ranch, of the weather, of the changes in the territory. But most of the time the stranger kept his head down, eating with a man’s appetite. Ella watched discreetly as he pulled a piece of hot bread apart then dipped it in the soft egg yolk before eating it. It was the same way she liked to eat her eggs. She thought his hands like her fathers, and she had loved her father’s hands. Big and burned brown from outdoor living, she knew there were calluses on this man’s palms for she’d felt them when she’d held his hand in her own.
