by Joyce Alec
She could start over somewhere new, with a man who would treat her right—not that she could even bring herself to consider another man kissing her or taking her to bed. A lump filled her throat as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push away the terrifying memories.
“Maybe there’s a man out there who doesn’t want nothing like that,” she muttered to herself, drawing in a few deep breaths as the tension slowly began to lessen. “A man who just wants a wife to take care of the home.”
It was a desperate thought. Most potential husbands out there would want a wife in their beds—which she understood. Was there someone out there who didn’t want that?
Frantically, Hazel pored over the advertisements, her heart slowly sinking as she read each one. They were all looking for the same thing: a wife to come live with them. However, each advertisement mentioned something like being pretty or sending a picture. It was clear what they would want from her.
The idea that had caught her slowly began to die as she continued to study the newspaper, her eyes going over almost every advertisement. The thought of leaving town had been one that had caught her off guard, bringing a sudden spark of hope to her heart, but now that began to fade away.
“New rancher looking for a wife to help support him,” she murmured, pausing at one of the smallest advertisements on the page. “Cooking, cleaning, and helping with the animals. Apply….” Her lips twisted as she studied it, reading the words over and over. He hadn’t asked for a picture, or even for a “pretty” wife like so many of the others. Her dwindling hope caught once more, wondering whether or not this might be the one man who would be able to help her start life over again.
Without even hesitating, Hazel got up from the table to find a piece of paper, deciding to write back immediately. After all, there might be a few women writing to him after this and she wanted to make sure he knew she was prepared to travel within a day’s notice.
Her hasty note written, she sealed it and rose from the table, her heart pounding so violently that she had to steady herself for a moment. It was as if she were about to leave home this very moment, as opposed to simply writing a letter.
“What will Mama say?”
A vision of her mother’s distraught face made her pause, knowing just how upset she would be over Hazel’s sudden decision. The last thing she would want Hazel to do was to run away, to make Christopher’s behavior the reason she left town, but Hazel could think of nothing else to do. She wanted to have the freedom to go out into the town and not feel the townsfolks eyes on her. She wanted to be able to walk the streets without people knowing what had happened to her. She would never be able to climb to the top of that hill again without recalling what had happened to her, would never be able to paddle in the stream without remembering how she’d walked alongside Christopher, hand in hand. It was as though this place was tainted for her. This was no longer the happy, carefree life she’d once had. Christopher had taken all that away.
“And now I must be the one to leave,” she said aloud, trying to steady her resolve. Looking down at the letter in her hand, Hazel drew in a long breath and grabbed her shawl from the back of the chair. She hadn’t left the house since the incident with Christopher, but if she asked someone else to post this for her, then they’d want to know what it was and why she was writing it.
She had to do this on her own.
Her feet almost tripped over one another as she opened the front door and hurried down the porch steps, her hands tightening on her shawl as she practically ran into town, not looking to either the right or left. Whispers followed her, sympathetic faces greeting her, but Hazel just kept walking without a word.
“I’d like to post this, please,” she said as she stepped inside the mail office. “It needs to go right away.”
She watched as the letter was taken from her, preparing to go on to its destination. The hope she carried began to burn fiercely as she paid for her postage, sending up a quick prayer that Stephen Grant, whoever he was, would answer her letter real soon.
“Hazel?”
Stepping back into the house, her heart still racing, Hazel saw her mother step out from the kitchen, her eyes wide.
“I was looking for you!” her mother exclaimed, pulling her into a fierce hug. “I was worried.”
“I’m fine, Mama,” she murmured quietly, knowing she was going to have to tell her mother everything. “I was just posting a letter.”
Her mother took her hand, still staring at her. “A letter?” she repeated, clearly worried. “A letter to whom?”
Hazel pressed her lips together and tried to smile. “I saw Papa’s paper this morning.” She put one hand on her mother’s shoulder. “I wrote to one of the men advertising for a bride.”
For a long moment, her mother simply looked at her, her cheeks slowly paling as she did so.
“I know you might think it’s a terrible idea, but I have to get away from here,” Hazel explained, hoping her mother would understand. “The ranch is one thing, but I’d just end up living there like a spinster for the rest of my life, too afraid to go back into town. All the places I loved just remind me of…him.” She dropped her head, her emotions rising with every word. “I love you and Papa so much, but I have to make my own life somewhere else. I just hope you can understand.”
A single tear trickled down her mother’s cheek although a small smile tugged at her lips.
“Oh, my dear Hazel,” her mother whispered, wiping away her tear. “Always so impetuous. Your free spirit has been crushed by what happened, and I know that you need to find that part of yourself again. Do you really think you have to go so far away to do it?”
Hazel swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes filling with tears. “I do, Mama. I’ve written back to one of the men, and I just hope he’ll be able to take me as I am. I don’t want love or affection or anything like that. I just want a home of my own and a place to start over. Stephen might be the man to offer me that.”
Her mother nodded, her tears now falling like rain even though she smiled brightly. “I’m going to miss you, my dear girl,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around Hazel. “You do whatever you think best, Hazel. Just find a man who is going to treat you right.”
“I will,” Hazel promised, squeezing her mother tightly. “I love you, Mama.”
6
Three weeks later and Hazel was busy helping her parents move the last of their belongings into the back of the wagon, quietly relieved that she wouldn’t be living in town anymore. Finally, she’d be able to put her head outside the front door without knowing that people were still talking about her.
She’d ventured out a few times since sending that letter, but everywhere she went there was always a knowing look or a compassionate smile. One older lady had even asked her mother how Hazel was when she had been standing directly beside her.
It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate their sympathy, it was just that she hated that everyone else was aware of exactly what Christopher had done. She would always feel the same wave of shame and embarrassment rush through her whenever someone shook their head or murmured something, even though she repeatedly tried to tell herself it wasn’t anything to do with her.
“I think that’s the last of it!” her father exclaimed, as he took a box filled with books from Hazel. “Time to say goodbye to this place.”
Hazel glanced behind her at the still-open front door, her heart warring between sadness and relief. “Strange to think we won’t be back here.”
“It’s going to secure our future, selling it on,” her mother replied quietly, as tears began to trickle down her cheeks. “But I’m still heartsore over leaving it.”
Hazel wrapped her arm around her mother’s shoulders, holding her tightly. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like for her, given that she had been in this house since she had married. All three of her daughters had been born and raised here. It held a much greater place in her mother’s heart than in Hazel’s.
&n
bsp; “Come on then,” her father said softly, holding out his hand towards Hazel’s mother. “Let’s go and take one last look.”
“I’ll stay here,” Hazel murmured, thinking it best to leave her parents alone for a while. Smiling softly, she watched them enter the house, their arms wrapped around one another. The door closed behind them, leaving Hazel all alone.
Sighing to herself, Hazel pulled herself up into the wagon, turning her back towards the house and wanting to give them as much privacy as they needed.
“Hazel!”
A familiar voice reached her ears, making her skin crawl. Christopher appeared just in front of her, running full pelt towards her.
“Get away from me!” Hazel exclaimed, not wanting to even speak to Christopher. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”
The horses stamped and shook their manes, evidently aware of her uneasiness. Christopher stopped running, but still continued walking towards her, his gaze fixed on hers.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Hazel turned her face away from him, her heart beating wildly in her chest.
“I mean it, Hazel. I care about you, and I just took things too far.”
Snorting with derision, Hazel turned back to face him, seeing the apologetic look on his face. “You might have fooled everyone else with that façade, Christopher, but I won’t be. There’s not a single word of truth in that.”
His expression hardened. “You’ve ruined my life, telling people what I did,” he muttered, passing one hand through his hair. “I can’t even breathe without someone watching me.”
“I ain’t got no sympathy for you, if that’s what you’re after,” Hazel retorted, her fear and anger mingling together. “Get on and leave me be.”
Christopher opened his mouth to say something else, only for another man to approach, his whistling jarring among the swirls of tension that surrounded them both. Hazel recognized him as Mr. Jones, who worked at the mail office. Her breath caught as she saw him holding a letter in his hand. Was it for her? She wasn’t expecting anyone other than Stephen to be writing to her, and it had been a good few weeks since she’d sent her letter to him.
“Miss Hazel,” Mr. Jones said, smiling up at her. “I was just on my way home when I saw this letter for you. I thought I should bring it since I know you’re heading out to the ranch this evening.” He glanced over at Christopher, the warm smile drifting from his face and being replaced with a look of uncertainty. “Is everything all right here?”
“Thank you,” Hazel replied, taking the letter from his outstretched hand as a jolt of anxiety rattled through her heart. “You came at just the right time.” With trembling hands, she opened it up, knowing that this could only be from one man. It seemed strange to be finding out about her future in front of the man who had torn apart her present.
“Christopher,” Mr. Jones continued firmly. “I think you ought to be running along now, don’t you?”
Christopher sniffed, turning his head away from Hazel. “I was just talking to her.”
Mr. Jones put one hand on the wagon, standing close to Hazel in a gesture of protectiveness. “And I’m pretty sure Miss Hazel don’t want you here, Christopher. Is that right, Miss Hazel?”
Hazel glanced up from her letter, her vision blurring. “Christopher, I don’t ever want to see you again.”
“Then how abouts I walk you back to your parents’ house, Christopher?” Mr. Jones said, before Christopher could even open his mouth. “Good evening, Miss Hazel.”
Hazel didn’t even glance over at Christopher, turning her gaze on to Mr. Jones, who had a rather firm expression on his face. “Good evening, Mr. Jones. Thank you for your offer to walk Christopher home. I’d appreciate that.”
“Not at all,” Mr. Jones muttered, stepping towards Christopher, who was already walking away. “Take care, Miss Hazel.”
Thankful that Mr. Jones had appeared when he did, Hazel drew in a shaky breath and tried to calm her nerves. First leaving their home, then Christopher, and now the letter….it was all so much to take in.
Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Hazel gave herself a little shake and tried to focus on the letter. She’d only got as far as the first line, the line that told her she was wanted.
“Hazel,” she read out loud, focusing her blurry vision on the letter. “Thank you for writing. As I said before, I’m looking for a wife to help at home and with the animals out on the ranch. That’s all I need right now. If you’re still amenable, I’ve sent you train tickets to Thorn Creek in a month’s time. I’m twenty-eight years old, tall, with brown hair. I’ll be on the platform waiting for you. Yours, Stephen Grant.”
The shaking in her limbs grew as she folded the letter up, her breath catching in her throat. She was free. Free to leave this town and start life over again. There would be no need to unpack her things once they got to the ranch. She could just leave her clothes, so they would be ready to go, ready to travel to Thorn Creek.
A jolt of sadness ran through her as she thought of leaving the rest of her family behind, knowing that Martha would take it worse than any of the others. They’d always been close, but life had a way of changing, of forcing you down a different path. At one time, Hazel had thought she’d marry someone from town, stay nearby, and always be close to her parents. Now, she had a train ticket that would take her farther than she’d ever been before.
“Well, that’s it then.”
The door of the house opened and closed. Her parents had finished saying goodbye to the house and were coming towards her. Hazel could hear her mother sniffing, clearly still upset about leaving.
“Are you all right, Hazel?” her father asked, as he helped her mother up into the wagon. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Not a ghost,” Hazel admitted with a shrug. “Christopher.”
Her mother’s hand clutched hers at once. “Christopher was here?”
“He was,” Hazel replied, as her mother wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Something about wanting to apologize.”
Her father cleared his throat, moving around to ensure the horses were ready to go. “Did he touch you?” His eyes fixed on hers for a moment, his feelings on the matter more than apparent.
“No, he didn’t,” Hazel promised, with a small smile. “Mr. Jones came by to hand me a letter, and he took Christopher away.”
Her mother’s hands tightened on her shoulders. “Thank goodness he did.”
“I don’t believe a word of it, of course,” Hazel murmured, as her father climbed up into the wagon. “He was just trying to get me to forgive him so that life would be easier for him.”
Her mother nodded, her lips thin. “He shouldn’t have come near you, Hazel. I’m so glad Mr. Jones was passing.”
“He gave me a letter,” Hazel said, as her father picked up the reins. “I’m leaving, Mama.”
The slap of the reins dropping from her father’s hand and hitting the board made her wince.
“When do you go?” her mother whispered, clearly trying not to cry as she looked back steadily at Hazel.
“In a month’s time,” Hazel replied, with a brief smile as she touched her mother’s hand. “It means that I won’t have to unpack any of my things.”
“Leaving?” her father said, gruffly. “I know your mother talked to me about this, but I didn’t think you’d be going so soon.”
“I have to get away,” Hazel replied, turning to look up at her father and hoping he’d understand. “Stephen has offered me a new life.”
“But you don’t know anything about him!” her father exclaimed, waving his hand in frustration. “I can’t let you go, Hazel. He could be even worse than Christopher.”
Hazel bit her lip, his concern echoing in her heart. That was true, she had to admit. The only things she knew about the man she was to marry was that he was a rancher and needed a wife. She knew nothing about his family, or about what kind of man he was.
“I guess we could make sur
e you have enough money to come home,” her mother said softly, breaking into her thoughts. “That way, if he’s not a good man, you’ll have a way out.”
“I still don’t like it,” her father interrupted, shaking his head. “It doesn’t sound like a good situation for you, Hazel.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Hazel paused for a moment before speaking. The last thing she wanted was for her father to put a stop to her plan to escape. “Papa, I love that you’re so concerned over me, but I can’t stay here any longer. I hate going out into the town, seeing everyone looking at me with their sad eyes. I hate that their whispers follow me about. Everyone knows what happened, and the more I try to put it behind me, the more they won’t let me forget it. I can’t keep living that way.”
“But he—”
“He is someone I’ve never met, someone I don’t know in the slightest, yes,” Hazel interrupted, seeing her father’s brows furrow. “But that situation has got to be better than this one. It’s worth trying at least, ain’t it? I can’t stay here and let my life slowly shrink. And I know how to take care of myself, Papa. I’m able to leave again if it’s not good for me.” Putting one hand on his arm, she smiled up at him, her heart aching with a sudden sadness over leaving him. “You need to let me be me, Papa,” she finished, her voice soft and quiet. “Besides, it’s not like I am moving across the country. I will still be in California. Let me do what I need to.”
Her father drew in a long breath, studying her face before dropping his head and shrugging. “It doesn’t seem like I’m going to be able to stop you anyway,” he muttered, putting one arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “Then again, I’ve never been able to do that.”
“Thank you, Papa,” Hazel whispered, leaning into him. “I’ll be just fine, you just wait and see.”
Her mother sniffed and wiped at her eyes, a wobbly smile on her face. “I know you will be,” she murmured, as Hazel handed her father the reins. “You’re a strong woman, Hazel, don’t ever forget that. And make sure to write to us the moment you get there.”