by Annie Boone
“I needed to get away from Boston,” she said, her voice cautious. “My life pretty much fell apart. I got married three years ago, to a shopkeeper named John Trimble. We conceived right away.” She blushed at this personal admission to a total stranger. She shook her head almost involuntarily.
Matthew nodded for her to continue, interested to hear her story.
“Um, then I lost the baby. Three months after that, John got influenza and died. I went back home to my parents, but my father lost his job and the rest of us couldn’t make up for his lost salary. Money was really scarce.”
“That’s more misfortune than most could handle. I’m sorry you’ve had that fall at your doorstep.” Matthew gave her a concerned look, but there was no pity.
“Everyone has misfortune. Some, more than others, I suppose. But, anyway, I sold pies and baked goods in the market every day of the week, but it wasn’t enough to make ends meet. All I got was resentment for being another mouth to feed in the house. When Susannah suggested I come out here to visit her, I didn’t have a reason not to come.”
Matthew stared at her for a moment, and Eleanor held her breath, waiting for his complete reaction. Surely now he’d think she was being pathetic, like most of the population of Boston.
To her surprise, his expression was compassionate.
“That’s an awful lot of trouble for an awfully short life,” he said, looking down at the boards of the porch.
“I suppose it is. But as I said, most people meet hardship at least once in a lifetime,” Eleanor said.
There was a long pause, each of them lost in their own thoughts.
“My pa moved us all out to Colorado when I was just a young’n,” Matthew said suddenly. “He wanted to prospect for gold, but he didn’t have the heart to leave us all behind. The family didn’t have much back in Ohio, and he wanted to give us all a better life.”
Eleanor watched him speak. Matthew’s face was serious, almost hard.
“Less than a year after we got here, he was lost in a blizzard and got the pneumonia. He didn’t survive, either. Ever since then I’ve been determined to do what he couldn’t, and make a good life for us out here. My Ma and my sisters all live off my ranch, and I’m only going to make it bigger and better.”
It was Eleanor’s turn to look at the porch. That kind of determination seemed amazing to her. Life had kicked her to the ground and all she wanted to do was give up. Matthew Connor had rolled with the punches and built a kingdom.
After a moment, Matthew cleared his throat.
“I’m terribly sorry, ma’am,” he said, blushing faintly under his dark stubble. “This is awful dour conversation for a beautiful lady like you the first time we ever even talk.”
Eleanor blushed and shook her head.
“I’m the one who started it,” she said. “Life gives us all difficulties, I suppose.”
“That it does,” Matthew agreed.
The conversation lasted long after the pair ran out of pie. They talked of everything under the sun; what books they’d read and which ones they liked, places they’d been and where they wanted to go. Matthew told Eleanor about long nights on the range, keeping watch over cattle to stop rustlers and coyotes, and Eleanor described seeing the ships come and go in the Boston Harbor.
“I’ve never seen the ocean,” Matthew confessed. The pair were now gently rocking back and forth on the porch swing, sitting at either end in complete ease. “I’d like to someday, but I don’t know when the cattle business is likely to take me there.”
“Well, I’d never seen a mountain until a few days ago.” Eleanor smiled as she remembered her journey across the country. “The train passed through the Appalachians, but those are like a wrinkled sheet compared to these mountains. The country here is more beautiful than I ever could have imagined.”
“It’s wonderful here in the fall,” Matthew said, his gruff voice surprisingly intimate. “The aspen trees all turn yellow and it looks like the hills are covered in gold.”
“That sounds simply lovely,” Eleanor said. Her tone was just as soft as his. “I’d love to see it, but I don’t know if I’ll be here that long.”
Matthew was silent for a moment, staring into the distance.
“Would you like to have supper with me next Sunday, Miss Eleanor?” he said abruptly. Eleanor turned to him in surprise.
“I… Well, I suppose so.”
Matt nodded.
“If that’s settled, I’d best be going, then.” He rose to his feet. Eleanor stood too, twisting her fingers like a schoolgirl. “I’ll see you next Sunday.”
Eleanor just nodded silently, and Matthew headed for the stable. Quietly, Eleanor stepped inside the house to find Susannah hiding behind the front window, looking like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“What are you doing?” Eleanor asked, crossing her arms.
“I’m just looking out for your best interests,” Susannah said earnestly.
Lucas, who was sitting by the fire with a newspaper, shook his head.
“I appreciate the thought, but all the same I’d prefer it if you not spy on me.” Eleanor said.
“I’ll promise with my hand on the Bible,” Susannah declared, and Eleanor rolled her eyes. Susannah had always been theatrical.
“That’s not necessary. Just don’t peep at me between the curtains.”
“I most certainly won’t.”
“You do realize she’s just going to find another way to watch you, right?” Lucas said, glancing up from his paper. Susannah made a sour face at him.
“Come, husband. You’re supposed to assist me in life’s endeavors.”
Lucas gave her a dry stare. “I thought man wasn’t meant to work on the Sabbath.”
“But you forget, I’m a woman,” Susannah replied evenly.
“Oh, I remember. I’ve long given up trying to fathom your ways.”
Eleanor watched the couple banter back and forth with a twinge of envy. Even when John had been alive, they’d never truly joked around like that. She had to wonder if life had that much harmony in store for her, or if she’d remain a widow forever.
She had a good feeling about Matthew Connor. She hoped she wouldn’t come to regret it.
Chapter Nine
Thursday arrived, and Eleanor hadn’t yet begun to regret agreeing to see Matthew. She was actually quite looking forward to it, humming happily as she walked to town with her basket. Susannah had sent her off to the store to buy writing paper while she sorted through freshly picked early spring vegetables to prepare them for pickling.
Eleanor had grown familiar with the route to town over the week. It was quite straightforward once you know which branch you were supposed to turn down. She walked at a leisurely pace, and soon she reached the spot where all the smaller paths joined together. As she passed on to the main road, someone called her name.
It was the subject of her thoughts, Matthew Connor. He was riding down the middle path, on a large bay horse, and he brought the animal to a stop as he reached where she stood.
“Good afternoon, ma’am.” He tipped his hat, nodding politely. “What brings you out here all alone this time of day?”
“I’m going to the dry goods store. An errand for Susannah,” Eleanor replied. Without her noticing, she held her basket behind her back, like an embarrassed girl. Matthew swung down off his horse.
“If that’s the case, I’ll walk with you,” he said. “If that’s all right with you, ma’am, of course.”
“Call me Ellie,” Eleanor said, feeling very bold. “That’s what all my friends call me.”
Matthew nodded, not smiling much, but she could tell he was happy.
“Call me Matt, then.”
“Won’t your horse get bored?” She glanced back at his horse with a raise of her eyebrow. The animal was following them sedately, Matthew leading it along by the reins as they walked. He gave her a blank look, then laughed.
“He probably thinks he’s lucky.” H
e stopped briefly to rub the horse’s nose affectionately. “Not have to carry a heavy old codger like me around town, for once.”
They continued to walk in companionable silence.
“Were you still planning on coming to supper on Sunday, ma—I mean, Ellie?”
“Well, yes, I was planning on it,” Eleanor said. She could feel herself blushing slightly.
“Well, if that’s the case I’ll come around in my buggy after church and take you to my place,” he said.
Eleanor nodded her agreement to the plan. “Do you cook? Everyone says cowboys don’t eat anything but beans,” she asked.
That prompted another laugh from Matthew. “That’s not too far off, to tell the truth. A lot of beans. Bacon. Coffee. Canned fruit, if you’re lucky. Potatoes, sometimes. And beef, of course. There was also bread, but we didn’t have a cook most of the time, and it came out burnt more often than it came out edible.”
Eleanor smiled and chuckled lowly. “Burned bread doesn’t sound like a good thing at all.”
Matthew shook his head. “Nothing makes you appreciate a good cook like living off salt pork and beans six months out of the year. I miss the range sometimes, but I’ll never miss range food.”
“It must be lonely, for the wives left behind,” Eleanor said quietly.
“Not a lot of cowboys are married,” Matthew said. “Most of ‘em are pretty young men. It’s a hard job. Do it for long enough and it breaks you down. No, most men want to be a little more stable than that before they take a wife.”
“I see.” Eleanor felt a little silly at the discussion about husbands and wives. She didn’t want him to think she was hinting at anything. Susannah already did enough hinting for the both of them. She took a deep breath. “Well, if you ever need bread, I can promise you not to burn it.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” Matthew said, smiling. The he asked about her baking, and a conversation about how many kinds of pies she knew how to make started that lasted until they reached the store.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to discuss the intricacies of chicken pies later,” he said, nodding toward the storefront. Eleanor was surprised. She’d been so busy talking she hadn’t even noticed how far they’d come.
“Oh, I see. Well, thank you for walking with me. I suppose I’ll see you Sunday?”
“I suppose you will. I’ll see you then, Miss Ellie.” Matthew tipped his hat again and swing on to his horse, trotting away down the road.
Chapter Ten
Eleanor happily stepped into the mercantile, almost floating on the tips of her toes. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such an engaging conversation. She didn’t think she’d ever had one with a man. Eleanor was nearly starting to be happy that Susannah kept dropping such heavy matrimonial hints.
The store wasn’t terribly busy, a few men and one woman standing around examining the goods. Eleanor went straight to the counter, making her request. The store kept its paper in the back, where it couldn’t be dirtied, and the clerk gave Eleanor the sample book showing what types they had. While she flipped through the pages, a lady entered the shop, carrying a large basket.
Everyone in the room jumped as the woman who’d already been there squealed loudly. She rushed over to the newcomer, peering into her basket.
“Oh, she’s out and about, now!” she said. “Are you sure it’s all right? She’s still so small.”
Ah. Eleanor thought. A baby.
“It’s all right. She’s well tucked up, and she’s got that little cap my mother made. She’s got fifteen caps, actually. Mama got a little… let’s say enthusiastic.”
Eleanor flipped through the paper samples again, refusing to look over at the chattering pair. It had been some time since she’d lost her baby, but it still hurt sometimes to see other happy mothers. She didn’t want to stir up those thoughts, again, even though she hoped to have a family one day.
Though her spirits were low now, deep inside she wanted the chance to be a wife and mother. She just had no idea how she’d get there. Staying positive and looking forward with hope was a challenge, but she was heartened that possibly her time in Pine Ridge would help her not-so-sunny outlook.
“Fifty sheets of this one, please,” she said, pointing to a plain, white sheet of letter paper. The clerk nodded, and disappeared into the back room.
“Your mother always did want a granddaughter,” the squealer said. “I hope she doesn’t make your boys jealous, spoiling that child.”
“They’re already jealous,” the young mother shook her head. “You know how Jesse is.”
Eleanor sighed, feeling her spirits sag again. Some people had all the good fortune in life. The clerk returned with her paper and she paid, tucking the bundle into her basket for the walk home. The two friends and the baby were standing in front of the door, and there was no way Eleanor could avoid getting a tiny glimpse.
She was a perfect little girl, with fat pink cheeks and chubby little hands, tucked in a soft blanket with a little pink cap on her bald head. The mother reached down to stroke her cheek as Eleanor passed. It was almost more than she could stand, seeing that tiny, perfect little baby. Quickly, she dashed out the door and onto the busy street.
Eleanor wiped her eyes as she began the long walk home. She didn’t usually get upset like that, but she’d been taken by surprise. Her conversation with Matt had left her so unguarded that the feelings of loss and sadness had washed right over her.
Matthew. Matt…
What was she thinking? Laughing and talking about pies with a man, after so many people had died? If there was any justice in the world, Eleanor would be back in Boston, living with John and their son. Not standing in a corner store in Colorado, envying other women’s babies.
Taking a deep breath, Eleanor blew her nose and tried to take command of herself. She had to stop being so silly, letting her emotions get the better of her like that. Even the happy ones. She had no business being so happy with another man, when her baby and husband lay buried half a country away.
Happy. Eleanor was surprised as she thought the word. Yes, she had been happy. Talking with Matthew over the last few days had made her very happy. It was such a strange sensation, to be feeling something other than sadness again. Eleanor wasn’t sure she liked it. It would be much better to just go on feeling nothing, and respect the memory of her loved ones.
Filled with determination, Eleanor hurried home.
Chapter Eleven
“What do you mean you don’t want to go?” Susannah stood with her hands on her hips, giving Eleanor a demanding look. “You were perfectly happy to go just the other day!”
“Now, Susannah, don’t push her,” Lucas said. They had just returned from church that Sunday, and he was taking off his good coat to put it away. Eleanor herself was standing behind an armchair, as though she were using it as a shield.
“But you were looking forward to it so much,” Susannah said. “Matt was, too. I know for a fact he’s been worrying about what to feed you.”
“I just don’t feel like it’s proper,” Eleanor said, shifting uncomfortably under Susannah’s scrutiny.
“It’s not proper to answer an ad in the paper from a strange man, either, but that worked out well for me.”
Lucas made a face at his wife.
“Susannah, I’m not you. It’s not proper for me. I’m a widow. John hasn’t even been dead two years,” Eleanor said desperately.
Susannah opened her mouth, ready to argue back when Lucas put a hand on her shoulder. She sighed, looking exasperated.
“All right. But I want you to attend just this one supper. It wouldn’t be right to make him go to all that trouble and then refuse to go.”
Eleanor didn’t like it, but she couldn’t deny that it would be horrible of her to do that to Matt, and unfair of her to not give him any explanation. She would just have to go to the supper and make it clear she wasn’t interested.
What a lovely afternoon to look forward to. She g
roaned inwardly and tried to get her mind focused on what had to be done.
Chapter Twelve
Matthew showed up at one o’clock on the dot, and Eleanor waved goodbye to Susannah and Lucas. Matthew stepped down to help her into the gig before taking up the reins.
“Good afternoon,” he said, glancing sideways at her. “I hope your Sunday has been pleasant so far. Church was uplifting, I imagine?”
“Quite inspirational, thank you.” Eleanor replied stiffly. She could just see Matthew frown in puzzlement from the corner of her eye.
“You sure?” he asked.
“I’m quite sure, Mr. Connor.”
At that, Matthew turned his head sharply to look at her. Eleanor just bit her lip, folding her hands in her lap. The ride to the ranch was long, made longer by their lack of conversation. Matthew made a few attempts at conversation, but didn’t get more than a few words in response.
Finally, they arrived at a long, open field, where a large wooden building sat surrounded by smaller outbuildings. The design was simple, but the structures were well built. Care had obviously gone into their construction. As they grew closer, Eleanor could see the details of the main building. A rag rug for people to wipe their boots on, bunches of herbs and garlic hanging to dry from the porch eaves, an old horseshoe nailed up over the door. Little touches of warmth that made the otherwise stark building homey and inviting.
Matthew pulled the horse to a stop and hopped down to help Eleanor to the ground.
“My house.” He gestured to the house in front of them. “It’s not two floors like the Jessup’s, but we’ve got plenty of room. All the hired hands stay in these buildings round back. There’s a kitchen garden, as well.” Matthew looked at Eleanor, as if he were slightly anxious that she wouldn’t approve.
“It’s lovely,” she said honestly, with more admiration in her voice that she intended. “The view out over this field is wonderful.”
