Caught Between Love And Duty

by Clarice Mayfield

  “There are werewolves; I know there are,” Billy objected, tears filling his brown eyes.

  Aurelia crouched down in front of her youngest brother. “Billy,” she said. “Do you remember what I told to you?”

  “A-ha,” Billy sniffled, nodding his head.

  “No werewolves dare come to these parts,” Aurelia began encouragingly. “Do you remember why?”

  “Because…” Billy began. “Because of Basajaun.”

  “That’s right,” Amelia smiled.

  “Basajaun protects us?” Billy asked.

  “They sure do,” Aurelia said, stroking the tear from his cheek. “Now, I better get started on breakfast,” she added and stood up. Billy looked comforted, and although Matthew was determined to tease his little brother, he could not help listening whenever Aurelia spoke about Basajaun.

  The tale told of a benevolent giant, a guardian of the woods and the friend of shepherds. The legend said that Basajaun protected sheep from wolves. Billy had been having nightmares ever since he heard a story about a werewolf a few weeks ago. One of the cowboys that often stopped by the edge of the Nelson ranch liked to scare the children by telling them tall tales about monsters and werewolves.

  One night, when little Billy had been absolutely inconsolable, Aurelia had held him in her arms and whispered the story of the Basajaun which her grandmother had told her when she was a little girl.

  * * *

  Aurelia continued preparing breakfast, cutting the bacon into even slices. Her brothers sat down at the table, trying to kick each other under the table playfully, all thoughts of werewolves long gone. Just as Aurelia had finished frying the bacon, her father, Gary Nelson, entered the kitchen. His white hair was pulled back, which made his pale, red skin look uncomfortably tight. His gray eyes observed the kitchen, and he sighed as he sat down besides Matthew.

  “Morning, papa,” Aurelia said cautiously.

  “Where’s my breakfast?” he grunted.

  “Almost ready,” Aurelia said timidly.

  “It should be ready when I come out,” he continued.

  “Sorry, papa,” Aurelia whispered. It was difficult to make her father happy. If the breakfast was ready too early, he complained it was too cold, if it was ready when he sat down he complained it was too hot. Her father had been pressuring her to work harder this past year, and Aurelia was nearing her breaking point. She turned around and hurried to finish making breakfast. As she put the plate of food onto the table, Billy appeared next to her to take the breadbasket to the table.

  “Thank you, Billy,” Aurelia smiled as the small, dark-haired boy carried the basket proudly to the table. Billy loved helping Aurelia.

  “Look at that,” Gary said to Billy. “You’re a good boy, you are.” He then added to Aurelia, “You make your baby brother do your work for you.”

  “No…” Aurelia said fiercely. “I was going to take it.”

  “You don’t get up early enough if he has to help you,” her father scoffed. Aurelia swallowed her retort. It wasn’t worth it. No matter how hard she worked, it never seemed to be enough.

  “I’m sorry, papa,” she said meekly. She began tidying the mess that her brothers had left on the table. Aurelia had always thought they ate more like pigs than little boys, judging by the mess they made. But her father never said one word to them. She knew they were, of course, much younger than she was, but she could distinctly remember having many more chores when she was their age.

  * * *

  Later that day, Aurelia walked into the pigsty. Her father was tending to the horses, and her mother had begun preparing dinner. The boys were running around the farm playing, having finished feeding the horses. The smell inside the pigsty was just as bad as ever, but Aurelia didn’t complain. She rarely complained or protested about anything.

  As her father added to her daily chores, she said nothing. Although on the inside, she was fuming. Aurelia had inherited her fiery passion from her abuela, that and her smile. Abuela Rosa had been a force of nature, and she once told Aurelia that their smiles were magical, although Aurelia did not believe her smile was anything special. Her father had often sighed good-naturedly how much she was like her abuela, filling Aurelia with pride. But lately, he had begun cursing their likeness, his weathered face stern and all traces of humor gone.

  I wonder what has caused this change in father. I feel like I can do nothing right. I know he worries about the farm, but is that all he worries about?

  Aurelia was deep in thought as she grabbed a shovel and began cleaning the sty. But as soon as she turned around, she slipped on the dirty floor and fell right onto her backside.

  “Ouch,” she winced as she tried to stand up. She tripped and fell back down. Frustrated, she stood up and looked down at her dress and groaned. A large tear was visible on the skirt, beneath the filth.

  “This is just what I needed,” Aurelia sighed as she returned to shoveling the pigsty.

  I will not let father see me complain about a little tear or a flesh wound. My palm is red raw and tender, but I will not return without finishing my chores.

  When she finally finished, her mother was calling her for dinner. Aurelia returned to the house, and her mother gasped as she approached her. “Darling, look at the state of you,” her mother exclaimed.

  “I will wash the dress,” Aurelia quickly replied.

  “You should change,” her mother said.

  “I can’t…” Aurelia began looking away from her mother. “I don’t want to wear my church clothes.”

  “Come on, child,” her mother said kindly, leading her inside. “You can borrow one of my dresses.”

  Aurelia followed her mother into her parents’ bedroom. She stood in the doorway as her mother opened her wardrobe. Aurelia’s mother was a beautiful woman. Her brown hair had specks of gray in it, but on her, it was an attractive feature. She was short like Aurelia was, and had a womanly figure that Aurelia longed to have.

  When she had been a young woman back in Spain, she had been the most beautiful girl in her town. Abuela Rosa had told Aurelia the story of her parents meeting. When Gary Nelson came to the town, then a sailor, he had been mesmerized by Sophia, with her waist-length black hair and blood red lips. It had been a loss for the town, abuela Rosa had said, when Sophia left for America with the foreign sailor. Aurelia’s father was of Spanish descent, but he did not particularly honor their history.

  “Here you go,” Sophia said to her daughter, handing her a light brown dress with buttons from the waist to the neckline.

  “I can’t wear that,” Aurelia said. “It’s your favorite dress, mother.”

  “You should wear it,” her mother replied kindly. “We can’t have you smelling worse than the boys,” she added with a tinkling laugh. Aurelia kissed her mother’s cheek and hurried to her room. She quickly undressed and carefully stepped out of the dirty dress she had been wearing. She stroked the material of her mother’s dress before she put it on. It fit like a glove, but Aurelia barely had time to admire her reflection when she heard her father’s voice from the kitchen.

  Oh dear, Aurelia thought and hurried from her room.

  As she walked into the kitchen, her father turned around in his seat. “You make your mother set the table while you go change clothes,” he snarled.

  “Oh, my dress was dirty,” Aurelia apologized. “I’m sorry papa,” she added demurely.

  “Let’s eat,” Sophia said, interrupting the start of the argument, and she began portioning Matthew’s and Billy’s plates.

  * * *

  After dinner, Aurelia sat in the sitting room with her sewing. She pulled the thread through the soft material, and she tried to stop herself from looking in her father’s direction. He sat by the fire with his glass of whiskey, looking worried. Suddenly she remembered her dirty dress on the floor of her room. She excused herself from the room, but her father merely grunted as she put away her sewing.

  As she walked to her room to fetch the dirty dress
, she could hear her mother, from her brothers’ room, singing the same lullaby she had always sung when Aurelia was little. Aurelia stopped by the adjacent door and listened. The sweet melody took her back in time, when she was just a little girl, without a worry in the world.

  How lucky are my brothers? Their lives are filled with laughter and playful joy… If only my life could be that easy.

  Aurelia sighed as she turned away from her mother’s singing and walked into her room. She picked up the dress from the floor and took it outside to the washing bale. She didn’t want to go inside to get hot water from the stove, not daring to make her father even angrier.

  The sky grew dimmer as she scrubbed the dress next to the washing board. The water was freezing, but she bit her lip and continued. Her hands were numb from the scrubbing, but the stain just wouldn’t come out. The mend to the tear would be visible. This tear was not the first one, not by a long shot. By the time the fireflies had appeared the dress was finally clean. Aurelia stood up and walked in the increasing darkness to the clothesline and hung up her worn-out dress.

  She stopped to look at the land below the farm. The Nelson farm was near a busy road that lead from the farms in the upper part of the county and down towards the town. Cripple Creek, Colorado was a lively town, filled with farms, ranches, and it was always bustling. Every year there was a rodeo held in the town square and cattle fair but the most anticipated event was the Nelson’s “Big Windy Competition.” Aurelia’s great grandfather on her father’s side of the family, had started the competition, and every year the town-folk awaited it excitedly.

  The competition consisted of a marksmanship contest, a rifle match, horse racing, and, the most daring event, capturing a wild range bull. The winner of the most challenges earned a grand prize. Last year it had been a mare, the year before that the prize was a bag of sheep’s wool, before that it was salted meat that would last for a month, and the year before that, a great stud. The entry fee was three silver coins or one gold coin. But this year, her father had been unusually quiet about what the prize was going to be.

  Aurelia returned to the house, longing for her bed. As she opened the front door, she heard her father speaking from the sitting room. She didn’t want to disturb them, so she tiptoed towards the staircase that led to her bedroom. But as she put her foot on the step, her father’s words caught her attention.

  “Sophia, you must see,” her father was saying. “It’s the only way.”

  “I don’t like it,” Sophia replied, and Aurelia could hear that her mother was upset.

  “I cannot take it anymore. She is much too old to be staying with us,” Gary said.

  “We cannot…” Sophia began, but Gary cut her off.

  “It is the only way,” he said. “She has made no attempt to even look at the suitors that have come by here.”

  “But darling, she is still young,” Sophia said.

  “She is twenty-years-old, Sophia! Another mouth to feed,” her father retorted. “This is the solution to all our problems,” he added, softer this time. “It’s better for Aurelia, as well.”

  Aurelia was still as a statue, but at the sound of her name, she put her weight on her foot, causing the step to creak loudly. Her parents stopped speaking, and she hurried up the stairs before they could find her. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest.

  What were they talking about? And why do I feel I’m not going to like it all?

  * * *

  The following morning Aurelia woke early like she always did. She stretched her arms and yawned as she tied her hair back. Today she was going to start her day in the stable after she finished with breakfast. She walked quietly down the stairs and was startled when she saw her father standing in the kitchen.

  “Father?” Aurelia said, surprised. For a moment she thought she had over-slept, but there was no sign of her brothers, and she looked out the window; the sky was just as dark as it always was right before sunrise. “Why are you up so early?” she asked.

  “I need to speak with you,” her father said seriously. Aurelia looked at her father curiously and then turned around as a sound of footsteps caught her attention. Her mother stood in the doorway to the kitchen with a strange look on her face — a worried look.

  “Mother?” Aurelia asked, her heart beating rapidly now.

  “Sit down, Aurelia,” her father said. Aurelia looked back and forth between her parents, and when her mother gave her a slight nod, she sat down at the kitchen table.

  “As you know,” her father began. “The Big Windy Competition will take place son. We have not yet announced what the prize will be…” His voice trailed off as he looked at the table. After a long pause, he said, “But this year, the prize will be different, and it is going to benefit us all.”

  “I don’t understand,” Aurelia said.

  “This year, the winner of the competition will win… you,” he said simply.

  Aurelia stared at her father, blinking her eyes in confusion. “What do you mean by me?” she asked nervously.

  “The winner will get your hand in marriage,” he added slowly.

  “What?” Aurelia stuttered, and the room seemed to be closing in on her.

  “I cannot afford to keep providing for you, and you cannot take on the more laborious work that needs to be done. It is high time you get married,” he said, not looking at Aurelia.

  “You cannot do this!” Aurelia exclaimed. “You cannot give me away like some prize cow… Please, don’t do this,” she pleaded.

  “Enough Aurelia,” her father said harshly, but Aurelia stood up and strode towards her mother.

  “Please, mother, don’t let him do this,” she whispered. But her mother just stood there silently, shaking her head minutely.

  “I will work harder,” Aurelia said, turning to her father again. “I will, I promise.” But her father sighed heavily.

  “Stop this, now,” he barked. “This is done.”

  Aurelia felt tears stream down her cheeks, but she brushed them aside angrily. She felt stiff with emotion, but now there was a fire of anger building inside her. “How long can I stay here?” she asked icily.

  “You will leave with the winner of the competition,” her father said slowly.

  “Three weeks?” Aurelia exclaimed loudly.

  “Don’t wake your brothers,” her father admonished.

  “I’m sorry,” Aurelia said through clenched teeth. “I need to go to the stable,” she added, turning away from her father.

  “Aurelia,” her father warned, but Sophia walked towards him.

  “Allow her to go,” she said softly. Aurelia strode from the kitchen, though the backdoor and nearly collapsed as she breathed in the fresh morning air. She refused to allow her father to see her tears, so she hurried into the stable, where she broke down crying at once.

  How can they do this? I am to be married to some stranger! I cannot breathe and I can feel my heart breaking.

  2

  “Yah,” Flynn Morris called as he rode his horse up the hill, steering the flock of sheep onwards. He really disliked sheep. They seemed determined to always walk in the wrong direction, and if that meant falling off a cliff, then so be it. This particular group of sheep wasn’t all that bad; most of them galloped up the way he was leading them, to the small clearing where they would spend the night. But an unruly pair of sheep ran in the opposite direction. Flynn sighed.

  “Come on,” he said quietly to his horse as he rode after the runaways. His dark brown steed shot off like a bullet and in a little while they had caught up with the fugitives. One sheep stopped dead still at the arrival of the unusually large horse, but the other made a run for it.

  Flynn jumped off his horse and grabbed the rope from his saddle. Quickly he loosened the noose and threw it high in the air. He squinted his eyes and waited for the absolutely right moment; then he flipped the rope forward. At once, the sheep fell down as the rope tightened around it.

  “You sure are handy with a rope,
” Hart Adams chuckled as he rode on his white specked horse towards Flynn.

  “It’s all in the wrist,” Flynn grinned as he jogged towards the captured sheep. He lifted the sheep up and loosened the rope, turning the sheep around and pushing it forward. The sheep ran towards the rest of the flock at once. Flynn sauntered towards his old friend Hart, rolling up the rope.

  “Join me at the tavern?” Hart asked.

  “Nah,” Flynn said as he tied the rope back to his saddle. “But I’ll ride with you towards the town; I need to go to the post office.”

  “Sure thing,” Hart replied. Hart and Flynn had been friends since they were boys. Flynn had lost both of his parents when he was young and had to make his way on his own. Hart’s family had a small farm and Hart’s mother, Maria, had pitied Flynn and offered him a few coins to work on their farm two days a week. Flynn and Hart became instant friends, and as they grew up, they both became cowboys, although Hart eventually took over his father’s pig farm.

  Flynn’s only option in life was to be a cowboy. He was an excellent rider and a master with a lasso, but he had to work hard. He owned a small house way up by the mountains. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for him. Flynn was unmarried, but he was considered the most handsome man in the whole town. He was well over six feet tall, with wavy black hair that came down to his shoulders. His skin was very tanned from working under the sun all day, and he had an athletic physique and his face always had a hint of stubble on it.

  Flynn made a decent living as a cowboy, tending to many ranches, but he was not considered wealthy. Women wanted financial security, and there was no shortage of better off men in Cripple Creek, Colorado.

  Cripple Creek was a mining town, and during the great gold rush, the town grew exponentially in a very short time, as people searched for a new life, new riches, or new adventures. On the outskirts of the town were the farms, and in the mountains were miles and miles of mines, which had attracted many men to leave their hometowns and settle down here. After the railroads were brought to Cripple Creek, the town grew more wealthy. The families that lived in the middle of the town were the ones that owned the town: the Jenkins family and the Richards family. The Jenkins family owned a majority of the mines in the town and the neighboring lands, and the Richards were investors who had made their money from shares in the railroad industry.