by Ember Pierce
* * *
He wondered if she saw the color drain from his face because he felt it go. The skin all over his body was cold. Annie’s handkerchief! Should he tell Mae about Annie? Was this the moment he’d been dreading? No he couldn’t tell her. Maybe he was a coward. But he couldn’t admit what he’d done. Or not done, as it were.
* * *
His mind raged and battled with itself. This was an unforeseen development. He’d originally gotten the handkerchief for Annie. But he’d never given it to her. She’d died before he could. In actuality, the handkerchief, he imagined, belonged to no one.
* * *
“Do you like it?”
* * *
“It’s lovely.”
* * *
“It’s yours.”
* * *
“Mine?”
* * *
“Yes.”
* * *
“Thank you, Scott.”
* * *
Her eyes lit up with a smile and she reached across the table and placed her hand on top of his. He could see she was as happy as a lark.
* * *
Scott liked this side of Mae very much but steeled himself for the questions and comments to come. Questions like when did he buy the handkerchief?
* * *
Comments like he was so thoughtful. He was not. It was easier to not get into the whole story. He told himself again that the handkerchief had never been given to Annie. It had never actually belonged to her.
19
The rest of the morning passed pretty much as the day before had passed. Scott’s attempt at using the handkerchief as an olive branch with Mae had worked for about ten minutes and the entire day had gone by without a word between the two of them.
* * *
He saw that this day was going to follow suit. He finished his food and informed Mae he was going to check the barn for anything they might need to have sent to them right away. He left the house by the back yard and walked down to the barn.
* * *
There was nothing they needed from the barn to take, but Scott didn’t want to flat out lie to her. He’d been wracked with guilt at the thought of Mae thinking he’d bought the handkerchief with her in mind.
* * *
No matter what angle he looked at it from, he thought that Mae might be upset if he ever told her the whole truth of the matter. He had to let go of the thought. He couldn’t tell Mae and that was that. Especially when he was all but forcing her to leave Fable Springs.
* * *
He couldn’t allow her to be a target for Bixby. If he told Mae what he was really thinking, he had no doubt she’d be too frightened to stay in Fable Springs. He reckoned she would have no problems moving to Oklahoma on that account. However, he figured she’d be angry, too. Angry that he hadn’t told her the whole truth from the beginning.
* * *
Why did everything have to be so complicated? He left the barnyard and continued walking around the house and gardens. The tree at the back of the yard, about twenty feet before the treeline caused him a deep sense of nostalgia. He’d helped his father plant the tree at nine years old. Another of the elements that he’d taken for granted everyday, for his whole life.
* * *
What choice did Scott have? He was being forced to leave Fable Springs. Once Wayne Bixby and his cohorts took over the town it would become a haven for criminals. He didn’t want Mae around it. The town was already very rough.
* * *
Most of the men who passed through Fable Springs on a daily basis were looking for a better way of life. That didn’t mean they behaved, though. The majority of them, however, were hard workers.
* * *
Wayne Bixby, by comparison, had always been a different story. His game was quick money which was why he was involved in all kinds of nefarious activities such as fraud and drinking establishments that employed soiled doves.
* * *
The man simply didn’t care for what was right. What was honest and good. And Scott saw no end in sight to the man’s brash sense of ego.
* * *
He continued walking along for about a quarter of an hour. Then he turned around and headed back to the house the way he’d come. When he got to the barnyard he could see that Ephraim had come with a buckboard for them to ride to the train in the next town.
* * *
Since they were barely bringing anything with them on the journey, Scott had finally made the decision to take the train. It would be more comfortable and faster than by wagon or even buggy.
* * *
The farmhouse was coming into view. Scott was surprised at how bittersweet the situation had become for him. He’d lived on this land since he was a boy. The old homestead, over on the other side of the valley, was where the original house was.
* * *
The house was boarded up, but Scott had kept it in good condition. It was livable, furnished, and dust cloths covered all the furniture. Now it would belong to whoever he sold the farm to.
* * *
Closer to the porch, Mae sat on the buckboard. Ephraim stood to the side and waved as Scott approached.
* * *
Scott walked up to his friend and embraced him. The men had been best friends since the day they’d met. They moved off a little way from the wagon.
* * *
“I’m sorry, Scott. I wish things could have turned out different.”
* * *
“Yeah, judging by the look on my wife’s face I think she agrees with you.”
* * *
“Well, good luck. I’ve already said goodbye to Mae. Make sure you write once in a while.” Ephraim turned and walked out to the road.
* * *
Scott watched his friend leave, all the while feeling Mae’s eyes on him. He knew she was disappointed and angry and perhaps even a little sad, like he was.
* * *
He climbed up onto the wagon. He was going to leave it at the train station and Ephraim would pick it up for him and keep the horses in his stable out at his family’s ranch.
* * *
He flicked his wrist and sent the reins snapping across the horses’ backs. They were on their way.
Mae turned around in her seat and watched as the white clapboard house grew smaller and smaller. Tears welled up in her eyes. Tears that surprised her. It felt like home to her. She was, once again, escaping because of a nefarious man. At least she had company this time.
* * *
Something brushed her arm and she looked to see Scott offering her a big, white handkerchief from his vest pocket. She shook her head slowly and leaned away from him, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.
* * *
She didn’t want anything from him right now. It was truly upsetting to her that she had to do what he told her to do. The former and brief fact that she could have stayed in Virginia teaching school for the rest of her life hovered around her.
* * *
But she couldn't have stayed in Virginia. Not really. She would have had to marry Bill Masters. Her father would have forced her to. And that had simply not been an option. She looked over her shoulder again.
* * *
The house was still in view. She said a silent goodbye to the place she’d resided in for a few weeks. It had been more of a home to her than the one she’d fled in Havenshire.
* * *
“Don’t worry, Mae. I’m going to build you a new house. One that’s bigger and nicer than that one. I’ll put a big porch on it, too. I know how much you like to sit outside after supper. I’ll make the porch go all the way around the house. We’ll have five bedrooms, or more if you want. The kitchen can be semi-detached, and then a parlor and dining room on the main floor. In the back we’ll have a sitting room for you and a study for me.”
* * *
Still she said nothing. She knew she’d come out of the sad place she was in, probably sooner than later, but she was fighting with her emotions. Everythi
ng felt so fragile. Life felt fragile. Maybe Scott had been right.
* * *
Maybe it was best for them to move away to a safe place and start over. Still, it seemed wrong to leave when their friends and neighbors were going to be affected by the antics of the Bixby gang. If she and Scott could do something to help, Mae thought they should do it. But Scott wanted to get as far away as possible. She had to accept it.
* * *
She turned around again. Their house was perched on the horizon. Suddenly, a burst of light and smoke that looked, from the distance they were at, as if it was in the front yard of the house, brightened the overcast sky. There was a huge boom that reached them even as far away as they were. Her hands went to her mouth as she gasped.
Scott heard the boom and jerked his head to look behind, pulling on the reins and slowing the horses without looking. The buckboard came to a stop. As he turned around, there was another explosion. He was shocked.
* * *
“Dear lord,” he whispered.
* * *
“What was that, Scott?”
* * *
“It must have been dynamite.” Scott narrowed his eyes and scanned the area. By his calculations. the dynamite had gone off in the middle of town. He moved the wagon, clucking to the horses to get them to do what he wanted. They already smelled the fire and were skittish, pawing at the ground and rearing their heads up and down.
* * *
The smell of fire reached Mae and Scott too. It was as if Scott was experiencing the mine blast that killed Annie all over again. He squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn’t happening. This was a different fire. Nothing was going to harm Mae. Nothing was going to hurt her. He wouldn’t allow it.
* * *
“We have to go back, Scott.”
* * *
Her voice brought him out of his thoughts. He looked at her and said nothing. He looked back at the fire. The flames were leaping high into the air and the smoke was carried to them on the breeze. He lifted his head to feel the wind on his face. It was gentle but there was one. If the wind kicked up for any reason, the fire would spread.
* * *
“Scott! Fable Springs is going to burn to the ground. We must go back and help.” Mae had turned her body to face him and reached for his arm with both hands. She tugged at it. “We have to do something.”
* * *
Again, he said nothing. He snapped the reins to turn the wagon back around to the road out of town.
* * *
“We best get on our way.” He snapped the reins again and clucked to the horses.
* * *
“What are you doing? Scott! Stop! Where are we going? We have to go back, Scott. We must go back. They’ll need every pair of hands they can get to put the fire out. God forbid, what if anyone gets injured? What if the fire is a distraction? What if Wayne Bixby does something worse while everybody is trying to contain the fire? Scott, listen to me. Please.”
* * *
Scott was quiet. He studied the back of his hands. Then he looked her straight in the eye. “We’re not going back, Mae. We’re going to Oklahoma. Now. So, why don’t you turn around and face forward?”
* * *
“No, I won’t turn around. I’m not a child. You can’t tell me what to do. I’ll watch the town burn down if you won’t take us back. If I’m forced to turn around to watch over my shoulder, then I will.”
* * *
He said nothing by way of answer. He waited and gave her a minute to turn back to the front and get herself situated on the bench.
* * *
“I can’t believe you won’t go back, Scott. You’re making this about you and not the greater good of Fable Springs.”
* * *
He was losing patience. If she didn’t stop soon he wasn’t sure what he might say to her. He only knew it wouldn’t help matters.
* * *
“I said we’re not going back, Mae. That’s the end of it. Do you understand?”
* * *
“I understand perfectly. You won’t stand up to Wayne Bixby because your face was injured. You’re not thinking about anybody else, but yourself. That’s not very noble. It’s not noble at all.” She craned her neck over her shoulder again.
* * *
He took a deep breath. It was time to tell Mae the whole truth. He stopped the buggy.
* * *
“Are we going back?”
* * *
“No.”
* * *
“Scott! Then what are you doing?”
* * *
“There’s something I didn’t tell you about myself, Mae. I’d say now is the time for you to hear it.”
Mae slapped her hands against her lap. She was bewildered. What could Scott possibly have to tell her? Now, when the town was about to burn to the ground, of all times, he had to tell her some secret about himself. He was a peculiar man.
* * *
He chose the oddest times to discuss even more odd possibilities and scenarios. Now he wanted to tell her something about himself. Something she didn’t know. It didn’t sit well with her. Not at all.
* * *
She’d told Scott everything about her life before she’d come to Texas. She’d told him about her father’s wishes for her to marry a rich man. She’d told him about Bill Masters desire to marry her. It wasn’t fair that Scott had kept things from her. But she sat there, waiting for him to tell her anyway, and not knowing what to say.
* * *
“Let me start with saying there’s a reason why I didn’t tell you what I’m about to tell you. A personal reason and a good reason. Before I say another word, I need to know for sure. Can you accept that?”
* * *
She shrugged. She reckoned she had to accept it. What she wanted was to get back to Fable Springs. She knew, though, that her best chance of getting Scott to take her back was by hearing him out. Otherwise, she feared he would get stubborn and just drive, without another word, to Oklahoma.
* * *
“Ok. Fine. I realize that I have no choice but to hear your reason for acting so cowardly. Go on.” She was disappointed in him. She’d thought he was gentlemanly and brave. He was proving himself to be the opposite.
* * *
Scott sighed. “Wayne Bixby has had it out for me since I was first elected sheriff of Fable Springs. He was sent away to jail. The state penitentiary, because of the arrest I made and due to the case I built against him which was easily proved. It was a blow to his ego that he’d dropped a glove at the scene of the crime. A glove that bore his initials. He was found guilty in thirty minutes of jury deliberations and sent to the state penitentiary. When he got out, he made it his mission to get back at me. It was, it seemed for a while, the only thing he dwelled upon. Revenge. I stood in his way. He wanted to take over Fable Springs then. I stopped him once. I’m not risking my life or your safety to try and stop him again.”
* * *
Suddenly Mae felt terribly guilty. It had been wrong of her to call Scott a coward. She owed him an apology for being so mean. She’d judged him without knowing all the facts.
* * *
Not wanting to interrupt him, she kept quiet and listened. There would be time to give him her apology when he was done telling her what he wanted to tell her.
* * *
“You see, Mae, I was engaged to be married once. It was before I met you. It was before Ephraim put the advertisement in the marriage paper. Life here in Fable Springs was good. The townsfolk were happy. The miners were happy. Everything was good.”
* * *
“And then, one day, Wayne Bixby rode into town. And he had other ideas. He wanted to start out by robbing the bank. But he knew he wouldn’t get anything unless he had a plan. Of course that plan needed to include the sheriff of Fable Springs.”
* * *
By now Mae was beside herself with grief for him. She didn’t know what had happened to his fiancee, but she knew it couldn’t have b
een anything good. Wayne Bixby had burned Scott’s face somehow. She wanted to ask Scott. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was, but she kept listening, waiting until he would be finished to say anything.