by Linda Broday
One morning she put it all aside and went to visit Eleanor Crump again. He was glad to see them becoming comfortable with each other. But Addie returned, fretting that Eleanor had been no more forthcoming than before. It seemed the two women had spoken about religion mostly, and both shared a certain opinion of a lot of preachers.
Ridge kissed Addie and told her not to give up. When she was ready, Eleanor would tell her secrets.
Life together moved from one day to the next as the opening petals of a flower. He lived in anticipation for what each morning would bring. He’d seen no more signs of the watcher, whoever he was, and could only pray he’d given up and moved on.
He looked forward to Addie’s kisses and nightly embraces more and more. He’d gotten bolder, let his hands roam a bit more than usual, and she hadn’t seemed to mind. Touching her had become his new favorite pastime. He couldn’t get enough of her velvet skin, her smiles, and her kisses. She was like a drug he craved. It was as if he spoke to her with his touch. A light brush of her cheek could say more than any words. She, in turn, found ample opportunity to take his arm, hold his hand, or melt against him when he kissed her.
And deep down, more than anything, he loved the interest she’d taken in Hope’s Crossing and the upcoming dance.
Bodie’s leg had almost healed, and the kid had gotten rid of the crutch, his limp barely noticeable. He, too, was becoming comfortable. In the time he’d been in town, he’d already struck up a friendship with Clay’s daughter, Violet, who was three years younger.
Ridge sat the kid down for a talk. “Always be respectful of girls, son. Never force Violet to do anything against her will.” He gave Bodie a stern look. “You hurt her in any way, I’d best not hear about it. I’ll kick your rear end from here to the Rio Grande, and after I’m finished, Clay will take over.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Just think of Violet as your grandma.”
Bodie shook the hair back from his face. “My grandma was as mean as a skunk-bit coyote.”
“Good. Picture her face in your mind when you’re talking to Violet.” So much for the man talk. Ridge hoped Bodie listened.
A few days later, Ridge accompanied Addie to the doctor for her session, then headed to work, thinking about his wife. She accepted his kisses and caresses, eagerly in fact, yet chose the space under the stairs over his bed. That puzzled him. What else could he do to do to win her over?
Clay and Jack rode up and dismounted, tying their mounts to the hitching rail in front of the land office. Since the day Ridge had been shot at, they’d taken turns riding out and checking the abandoned house to see if Hiram had returned.
Jack entered ahead of Clay and pushed back his hat. “The bounty hunter still hasn’t shown. The place is as empty as a dead man’s pockets.”
Clay dusted off his clothes.
“Hey, stop that!” Ridge blew the dirt off a stack of papers. “Now I’m going to have to clean.”
“Hell, you haven’t cleaned in here since you moved in.” Clay dropped into a chair.
“It boggles my mind how you’d be privy to the goings on in this office.” Ridge moved the stack and went to look out the window at the peaceful town. “Where else could Hiram be holed up?”
Jack snorted. “There are caves all over this area. Take your pick. Could be in any.”
“I feel safer with the guard at the entrance.” Ridge went back to his desk and dropped into his squeaky chair. “At least he can’t ride into Hope’s Crossing without us knowing. But I’m wondering about those of us living outside the town. We’re pretty much easy pickings.”
“Maybe you should take a room at the hotel for a while,” Clay suggested.
“It’s a good idea,” Jack threw in. “That would keep Miss Adeline safe. Bodie too.”
Somehow, Ridge thought Addie would balk at the idea. She enjoyed the property and their animals—milking the cow, tending to the chickens, and the hours spent with King. Still, he should suggest it. Ever since their argument, he’d tried to give her more of a say in matters. It was hard, though. He automatically wanted to shield her from every worry. However, he’d learned his lesson and wouldn’t dare make that mistake again. Somehow, he’d try to keep her abreast of the situation, even if it harelipped the damn governor.
“How is Miss Adeline?” Clay asked. “Any closer to getting her voice back?”
“Nope. Dr. Mary is helping a lot, though. She’s optimistic that Addie’s voice will return soon. She says all it’ll take is one big scare to jar the words loose.” Ridge leaned back and propped his feet on the desk, hoping Addie would find her way to sleep with him soon. His bed was lonely, and he didn’t care if she spoke or not as long as she lay beside him.
“Fretting about it won’t bring it any faster.” The chair squeaked when Clay shifted, removed his hat, and hung it on his knee. “Violet’s been talking a lot about Bodie,” he said casually.
“Figured as much.” Ridge managed to look nonchalant.
“Should I be worried?”
“Nope.”
Clay drew himself up in the chair. “Don’t you think it’s time you had the talk with him?”
“Hell, I ain’t his pa. I’m his employer.”
Jack watched the back and forth, grinning, his arms folded.
“Well, someone has to be his pa, and the kid is living on your property.”
Ridge glared. “For your information, I’ve already spoken with him. Relax.”
Clay returned the glare. “Well, you could’ve said so in the first place! I’m still keeping my eye on that boy.”
“He’s not a boy. He’s a man,” Ridge clarified quietly.
“Hell, that’s even worse!” Clay got to his feet and stomped out of the land office.
“You shouldn’t tease him like that, Ridge.” Jack pushed away from the wall. “Violet is his pride and joy. Always has been. Maybe it’s because she was born blind. That would make anyone protective.”
“I know, but he makes it so easy. There isn’t one boy ever going to be good enough for his little girl, and I can understand that. I’d probably feel the same way.” Ridge quickly scanned a document, rose, and filed it in a cabinet.
“Sawyer is pretty sweet on her too, but I don’t think Clay knows, or else he’d have cornered me as well. I’m dreading the day.”
“Good luck there.” Many a friendship had been ruined by less. Ridge changed the subject. “Addie’s been working on the decorations for the dance, and I’ve been thinking. Let’s have it in the barn this year. It wouldn’t take much to clean it out, then we wouldn’t have to worry about the weather.”
“Sounds good. It would save having to build a floor again.” Jack stuck a match stem in his mouth. “Remember when we used to have a dance near every night on the bare ground?”
“Sure do. I think Clay would still do that if he had his way.” Ridge chuckled. “I’ve never seen any man like to dance the way he does.”
“Shoot, me neither.”
A moment’s silence filled the room, broken only by the noisy traffic of horses and wagons in the busy town beyond the door. Something else that had changed. “I might ride out to some of these nearby caves this afternoon. I’ve got to do something to flush Hiram out.”
“I’d go with you, but I promised Sawyer I’d go hunting with him. I don’t spend enough time with the boy as it is.” Jack paused, then added quietly, “Hiram may have left to get reinforcements. There’s always that possibility.”
“Yeah. Hell, I hate that I brought him here.” If only he’d taken Addie riding somewhere else that day. But if he had, they wouldn’t have been there to free Bodie, so he guessed things turned out the way they were meant to.
“Not your fault, Ridge.” Jack opened the door and left.
Ridge sat in thought a spell longer. Maybe Hiram had gone for reinforcements. The man
would have his pick of help among the rough men hanging out in Tascosa. The outlaw Billy the Kid had called it home once, until Pat Garrett killed him last year. But there were plenty waiting to take a man’s money and do the job. Until the threat was gone, they had to keep Hope’s Crossing locked tight.
Silver Valley, the lying woman, Tom Calder, and the hangman’s rope crossed his mind. Ridge shuddered and turned his thoughts to Addie. If he wanted their marriage to work, it was time to trust and bare the past—both his and hers.
Fourteen
Addie sat in Eleanor’s home, sipping tea and nibbling on a moist slice of applesauce cake. Slowly, the recluse was changing. She’d begun combing her hair and twisting it into a knot on the back of her neck, sprucing herself up more. Today Eleanor wore a black cameo on a ribbon. The change surprised Addie so much, she had to blink and look again.
“What a beautiful cameo,” Addie wrote on a piece of paper.
Eleanor’s smile held sadness. “My Charley gave it to me one Christmas. I dug it out of the ashes.” She fingered the keepsake at her throat. “Addie, don’t ever outlive those that love you.”
“Yes, ma’am. Would you tell me about him?”
Silence hung like thick moss from tall cypress. Addie sat waiting while Eleanor finished her tea and cake. Finally, Eleanor pushed the small plate away. “I recollect telling you I would, and today seems as good as any.”
The woman rose and collected the plates, dropping them in a dishpan of soapy water. “People wonder why I live on the fringe of town. The answer is because I have all this ugliness inside.”
Addie picked up a flour sack drying towel and helped her friend.
“I was married to the outlaw Charley Caddell for twelve years.”
Even though Addie had been sheltered from the world, she’d heard of the man. Caddell was hunted worse than anyone she’d known. He’d come to New Zion once, shot and in a bad way. Her mother had tended to his wound, after which her father had ridden him out of town.
“We lived outside of Springer, New Mexico Territory, on a farm. A few hours after he left to hunt one day, I was hanging wash on the line. My two little girls and their brother were in the house. Riders descended on us like a flock of buzzards with guns blazin.’ They pinned me down with gunfire and set fire to the house. I screamed that the children were inside and tried to get to them, but the men held me back.” Eleanor put a trembling hand over her eyes and took a deep breath. “Charley came riding in full-bore, shooting in a panic. He raced right past the posse like they weren’t there.” Eleanor’s voice broke. “They gunned him down in the yard, shooting him full of holes. Charley fell two steps from the flaming doorway. He fought with everything he had to get to our babies.”
Addie drew a shocked breath, her heart breaking. She helped Eleanor back to the table. Part of her didn’t want to hear the rest, but Eleanor wasn’t finished.
“Folks claimed I came unhinged that day, and they weren’t wrong. I screamed so loud and so long, I lost my voice, just like you have. I stayed locked in silence like that for a good long while.”
Maybe it was the same, except Addie hadn’t screamed. She’d just woken one morning to find her words had disappeared, erased from her brain.
“Changed my name to Crump to discourage questions. Now I’m trying to find my way back, but most everyone steers clear of me like I have something they might catch.”
Addie hugged her and scribbled on her paper. “Not everyone. You’re a dear friend, and I feel fortunate to have met you. How did you get your voice back?”
“I didn’t do anything special. I think I had to heal on the inside first. And then one day, I found myself whispering the Lord’s prayer.”
“I try to speak but the words won’t come.”
“Just give them time, my dear. Time heals everything.”
“Maybe you’re right. I’m sorry for what happened to you. How horrible.”
Eleanor looked out the small window. “I couldn’t understand why God let me live.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “In minutes, I lost all my family.” She lifted her face and whispered, “Silence makes the most eerie sound.”
Addie nodded in agreement, understanding completely. She lifted her pencil. “You have friends in Hope’s Crossing who won’t judge. Open your heart, and you’ll find them, and me, inside. Maybe it’s time to step back into life.”
“I know, honey. Last Christmas I started trying to make my way back and actually took part in the Advent that involved the whole town. Rebel Lassiter was such a dear to me.” Eleanor got a faraway look in her eyes. “She came near to dying that Christmas. Told me to start with baby steps, and that’s pretty much what I’ve done.” Eleanor poured them another cup of tea. “Addie dear, I don’t know what happened to you, and I don’t need to, but that man of yours does. He deserves to know what you’re hiding.”
Addie pondered her words. She did owe Ridge the truth.
“I’ve lived a lot of years and seen more trouble than two lifetimes. But one thing I’ve learned is that secrets don’t do anyone any good. It’s time to let them out before they destroy you.”
She was right. Right about all of it.
“I loved my Charley and lost him. You still have Ridge; if the law has anything to do with it, you may not have him for long. Don’t waste time.”
Her pleading words hung in the air. Finally, Addie wrote: “I’ll tell him soon.”
Eleanor grabbed a woven basket and went out to the garden. She came back with squash, green beans, and onions, and handed the lot to Addie. “Fresh vegetables for your supper.”
She accepted the gift, hugged her dear friend, and left, all the horror, heartbreak, and despair of Eleanor’s story replaying in her head. Her blood stilled. Eleanor was right. Men could ride in at any time and kill Ridge, leaving her so lost and alone. A widow.
Would she have Eleanor’s strength, enough to keep living? Her heart pounded. Or would she take a Colt one night and hold it to her head?
Whatever the future had in store, she had to grab every bit of happiness with Ridge before time ran out—make lasting memories to carry inside for dark and frightening days, remembrances that would never fade. And she had to start now.
* * *
The late afternoon sun hung in the sky, the rays shining through the branches of a large cottonwood tree, creating silver filigree designs on the dirt path outside of Eleanor’s tiny home. Addie’s thoughts had moved to planning supper with the vegetables Eleanor had given her, when two men burst through the tangle of brush.
She screamed as they grabbed her with their rough hands, dropping the woven basket. The vegetables spilled to the ground.
One man clapped a hand over her mouth. “Shut up, Adeline.”
The other assailant snarled and jerked her around. “We don’t want to have to get mean, but we’re tired of chasing you. Shoulda known you’d take up with a bunch of rotten, thieving outlaws.”
Addie trembled and stared into their faces, recognizing them both from New Zion. Her father’s men. The one she knew only as Tiny was anything but, towering over her, his muscles bulging. The other was Pickens. This man had mean eyes and a hard face. She’d long suspected her father of keeping the pair around simply to do his dirty work.
She jerked and kicked, trying to loosen their grips, to no avail.
Eleanor appeared in her door. “What are you doing there? Turn Addie loose!”
“Get back inside, old woman.” Pickens pulled a pistol from his holster and pointed it at Eleanor. “This is none of your affair.”
“Do you think I’m scared?” Eleanor glared, and her voice held firm. “I’ve faced jackasses far meaner than you, and I ain’t afraid to die.”
“Go on or I’ll shoot you. You won’t be the first woman I’ve killed.”
She reached behind the door and pulled out a rifle. She ratcheted
a bullet into the chamber and took aim at Pickens. “Let Addie go and do it now.”
Addie’s heart pounded. They’d kill Eleanor for sure. Addie knew Pickens didn’t deliver idle threats.
Sometimes her father had let him wield the whip during someone’s punishment, and she knew of at least twice Pickens had nearly killed the person on the receiving end. The sight of blood seemed to excite the man, and he didn’t know when to stop.
“You shouldn’t have raised that rifle, old woman.” Tiny tightened his steely grip around Addie’s arms. He could probably break Eleanor in half with his bare hands if he had a mind.
“Fire that weapon, mister, you’ll bring every outlaw in this town running.” A smile grew on Eleanor’s face. “You don’t have the sense to realize that you’re boxed in. There’s only one way out—how do you plan to get there? You’re not too bright if you ask me.”
Pickens’s confidence slipped. His gaze swept the area, a crease appearing between his brows.
Tiny swallowed hard. “Don’t we have another way out, Pick? You said this would be easy. Slip in, grab her, and leave. I think this old woman might shoot us.”
“Shut up, moron. Adeline’ll make a mighty good shield. They won’t shoot.” Pickens waved his gun at Addie. “We just want to ask her one question.”
“Ask away, sonny,” Eleanor snapped. “Only she can’t talk. Maybe it was you who scared the words right out of her.”
Pickens faced Addie, his eyes heavy lidded and cruel. “We just want to know where the kid is. Tell us where you hid him, and we’ll leave.”
Addie shook her head, her eyes flashing. Never.
The unmistakable click of the hammer of a pistol came from behind the pair. Pickens and Tiny froze, Tiny’s grip loosening.
“I hope you said your prayers before you entered our town, boys.” Ridge stepped from the brush on the side of the path, followed by Clay, Jack, and Travis. All had their guns drawn. Relief weakened Addie’s knees. She’d never been so glad to see them.
