Mary wiped a tear of her own from her cheek. “Lyla, if I would have known that it would feel this way…”
“It’s okay, Mary. I don’t want you to feel guilty, ever. This was my decision.” Lyla warmly, kindly rubbed her hand along her sister’s arm. She had nothing but love for Mary.
“I’m going to write you every single month, and you had better answer.”
Lyla giggled nervously. “I’ll do my best; you know how busy I am.”
Her sister gave her a playful push. “I’m going to miss you, Lyla.”
“I’m going to miss you more.” Lyla couldn’t hold back her sadness any longer, and her tears streamed freely down her cheeks.
“Well, girls, it’s getting late. We should be off,” Henry called from where he was saying goodbye to Lyla’s parents.
Lyla reached in to gave Mary one more tight hug before retreating to the front of their little townhouse. There, she watched from a distance as Mary said goodbye to her parents and they fawned over baby Joey for the last time.
Mary, Henry, and the baby all climbed into the wagon and went down the road until they disappeared from sight, just a puff of dust in their wake.
“I don’t understand it, why go west? I thought they were happy here.” Lyla’s mother wiped tears from her eyes as she clutched Lyla’s father.
“I know. Children change people, sometimes. I suppose the call to adventure was just too much for them.” Lyla’s father gave her mother a squeeze on the shoulder, offering a brave smile.
Lyla slipped inside, unnoticed. She was the only one who knew the real reason her sister had left, and she wasn’t about to tell her parents. They were already disappointed in her enough, and if they knew why their favorite daughter had left town forever, she knew they would never forgive her.
Lyla’s gaze went to the satchel by her feet. Her sister’s letters were all there. They were probably the heaviest item Lyla had brought with her.
Anyone would say that she was silly for having brought them with her. But they were the one possession she couldn’t bear to risk losing.
She had read each of them over a hundred times. Whenever she felt sad or alone or forgotten, she would pull out her little bag of letters and read them one by one, letting her sister’s love wash over her and encourage her to keep going another day.
Lyla hated to think about how many times she had replied to those letters. She had thought her sister would slowly stop writing her, forgetting about her as so many others seemed to have.
But her sister had always sent a letter—one every month to the day, even when Lyla didn’t respond.
Lyla glanced around at the other passengers. The older woman and fallen asleep and the little boy seemed preoccupied with a game he’d made from string.
The young man was staring out the window, very much like Lyla was, and seemed uninterested in his surroundings.
Lyla sighed. This was going to be a long and painful trip. She almost missed Keith. The sooner she could get to the west, bring Joey back, and resume her normal life as planned, the better.
---*---
The weeks had passed quickly, and Lyla knew that she would be arriving in Wheatberry, Kansas, any day now. She didn’t know what to expect; she didn’t know what to hope.
The anxiety of the impending meeting made her heart race and her stomach feel nauseous.
The old woman and the little boy had been pretty silent passengers, and had gotten off the stagecoach a few days ago.
The last couple of days, the coach had just carried herself, the young man, and an older gentleman who had more recently joined them.
The three of them rarely spoke, and when they did, it was just pleasantries or about things that didn’t really matter. Some days, Lyla felt sad about this, like she wished that they would ask her about her life and she’d have someone to talk to about her woes.
But then, she also felt happy about their indifference. It was one less thing for her to worry about.
She waited patiently, trying to entertain herself with the view outside the window or by reading through her sister’s letters yet again.
The countryside had flattened out as they went, and the wheat fields had become more numerous as the days went on. At least there had been no robberies or terrible storms. She shuddered as she thought about the stories she had heard about travelling in the west.
Occasionally, they went over steeper terrain and crossed rivers, causing all of the passengers to grip the sides of their seats and pray for safety.
Nothing seemed to help Lyla feel less anxiety. Every moment seemed to take forever to pass, and despite the fact that they were getting closer all the time, Lyla felt as though she would never arrive.
Chapter 9
James paced back and forth. He knew the stagecoach was supposed to arrive today, but he didn’t know when. He had been waiting for over an hour, and he was certain Joey was wondering where he had gone.
He had left Joey with Merrick and Daniel while he went to meet and collect Lyla. He hadn’t explained to Joey that she would be coming, and he was hoping to have a civil conversation with this woman before he introduced her to the boy.
What if she had the wrong child and she just thought Joey was related to her? He wasn’t about to hand the boy over to some stranger without having proof of who they were, first.
A cloud of dust in the distance made him clench his hands into fists. He had been dreading this day for weeks now; the day that some woman on this very stagecoach showed up and took Joey away.
Of course, he knew that she had every right to, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it.
The stagecoach seemed to take forever to arrive. When it did, James had to control himself to keep from rushing over and demanding to talk with Lyla immediately.
He knew who she was right away, since she was the only woman to get off the stagecoach.
As the driver took her bag down from the top of the wagon and passed it to her, James rubbed his hands on the front of pants, trying to rid himself of nervousness before walking over.
“What do you mean, I have to wait for the next one? I can be ready to go tomorrow!” The woman, whom James assumed was Lyla, was practically yelling at the stagecoach driver.
“It doesn’t matter where you are planning to go. There are already people here in this town who have paid for their tickets and waited weeks for this opportunity. You’ll just have to do the same, just like everyone else, miss.” the man replied, with a hint of anger on his voice.
James figured it was time for him to intervene. “Hello, miss. You must by Lyla. I’m James, the sheriff of this town.”
She stopped her argument with the stagecoach driver and turned to James. She looked him up and down twice, then set her lips in a thin line.
The driver took his opportunity and vaulted up into the seat, clucking to the horses. The stagecoach pulled away, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake.
Lyla waved her hand in annoyance at the cloud. “That’s right. I’m Lyla. I’m here to pick up my…nephew.”
James squinted his eyes. He didn’t exactly like the way she had hesitated before saying nephew.
James wanted to tell himself there was no way that this woman was related to Joey or his parents, but he couldn’t be that naïve.
The woman had light brown hair that fell in waves about her shoulders. Her green eyes were full of snappy intelligence, and her face looked so similar to Joey’s mother’s face that was ingrained into his memory, there couldn’t be any dispute on their relation.
“So, where is the boy?”
“His name is Joey,” James bit out.
“I know that. I’m here to pick him up. Looks like I’ll have to stay in the hotel until the next stagecoach comes through, though. Do you know when that is?” The woman looked up at him with anything but kindness or a welcoming air.
She looked bothered that she had to be here, and she was brisk and short with her words.
“Not for
another month at least, I reckon.” James smirked at her horrified expression. “Anyhow, I can’t just hand Joey over. You have to prove that you’re related to him.”
“We both know that I am. I could tell that you recognized me. You saw my sister, didn’t you?” Pain from loss that James knew so well flashed through her eyes.
“Yes, you do look a lot like her,” he admitted. “I left Joey at the police station. We can go there to get him.”
“Police station?” Lyla looked puzzled.
“Yes, I think I mentioned that I’m the sheriff.”
“Oh.” Lyla’s cheeks blushed crimson as she realized her mistake. She sighed and looked a little less flustered.
“Come on, this way.” James led Lyla down the street towards the station. He didn’t offer to take her satchel; she seemed to have a fine handle on it.
When they got to the jail house, James hesitated a moment. This was going to change his life as he knew it forever, and he was pretty sure it was going to be in a bad way.
James had expected Joey to be excited to see Lyla or at least show some sort of recognition. Instead, he stood near Merrick and hid behind the deputy’s legs.
“Joey, I believe this is your Aunt Lyla.” James shifted uncomfortably between his feet. “Won’t you come say hello?”
Joey shook his head and stayed where he was. Lyla glanced at James nervously, but she didn’t say anything and she made no move to interact with the little boy.
If James saw correctly, it almost looked as if she were avoiding looking at him.
James walked across the room and knelt down in front of Joey. “Come on, little man. Your aunt came a long way to see you.”
Joey shook his head. “I don’t like her.”
“It doesn’t matter whether you like me or not, you’re going to have to come home with me to your new family.” Lyla had come up behind James and was staring down at Joey with a strange look, as if she’d never seen a little boy before.
James decided that she had about as little experience as he did with children, for her lack of tact. How could she have said something so harsh without thinking of the consequences?
“I’m not going with you! I live with James now! Mama and Papa left him to watch out for me!” Joey yelled, his eyes filling with tears. “They can see me here and if you take me away, they won’t be able to and James won’t, either!”
“Joey, let’s talk about this.” James reached out to the boy, but he turned away and ran towards the exit.
“I won’t go! I won’t go anywhere with you!” He stumbled out the door and down the steps.
When Lyla moved to go after him, James put his hand on her arm and held her back. “Let Merrick go. He seems to know him a little better.”
It was hard for James to speak around the lump in his throat.
“It’s going to take him some getting used to you before he’ll be ready to accept you as his new mother.”
Lyla looked surprised and then bothered by something. She smoothed her skirts down yet again with a nervous hand. “I’m not going to be anyone’s new mother, I’m just here to pick him up. Actually, he’ll be living with my uncle in Chicago.”
“Your uncle? How old is this uncle?” James felt the pit in his stomach harden. How could she talk about Joey like he was just some lost thing that could be dealt with however was more convenient to her?
“He’s an elderly man, but he’s agreed to take Joey. He is wealthy and will provide for him. He will see that Joey gets a good education.”
Lyla avoided James’ gaze, and he knew that she knew that it sounded wrong. “I didn’t expect to be stranded here until the next stagecoach came.”
“Why don’t you go into the hotel? I’ll take Joey home tonight, since you must be tired, and we can talk about all the little details tomorrow.”
“There aren’t many details to discuss, sheriff.” Lyla eyed him suspiciously, as if she could read his mind. But James was certain that she had no idea what he was thinking.
---*---
James paced back and forth in the small bedroom, in the little space that there was. After much coaxing and talking, he had finally calmed Joey down enough to get him home and into bed.
His gaze fell to the little boy sleeping in the big white shirt that used to be his. His thumb was in his mouth again and his eyes looked red and puffy. He hadn’t sucked his thumb after the first few days of being with James.
His heart ached for Joey. How had this happened? How could he have become so attached to the boy? He felt like his heart was being ripped out.
He knew one thing: he couldn’t let Lyla take Joey without a fight. The boy would be miserable living with an old man in the city. If James knew anything, the man probably wouldn’t even keep him, but instead would just send him off to some boarding school.
An education, indeed. That was no life for an innocent seven-year-old boy. He needed a family to love him and be with him.
James pressed his fist up against the wall as if he were hitting it but without a sound. This was so out of control. What could he do?
He had to go and talk some sense into Lyla, convince her to give him a chance. He couldn’t just let Joey go. He couldn’t say goodbye to the little boy who had taken over his heart in these few short weeks.
“James?” The little voice in the dark made tears fill James’s eyes.
“What is it, Joey?”
“Are you going to let that lady take me away from here?” Joey was sitting up, his arms wrapped around himself as if he were cold.
“I am going to do everything I can to keep you, Joey, I can promise you that.”
James walked over and slipped into his own bed.
“I’m scared. Will you hold my hand?” Joey asked.
Without a word, James reached across the gap that separated them and took Joey’s hand in both of his.
The little boy’s warmth felt right in his own large hands. He only wondered how long it would be before he had to let go of Joey, forever.
---*---
James knocked on the hotel door again. He’d been standing there for more than twenty minutes with no answer. He was beginning to think that maybe Lyla had skipped town.
He groaned inwardly when the door opened, and he realized that he had no such luck.
“Can I help you?” Lyla looked as if she had just rolled out of bed. On a normal morning, that would be where James was, too, but this was no normal morning.
“I-I’m sorry for waking you so early, we need to talk.”
“It’s barely past sunrise. Couldn’t it wait until later? From what I’ve learned, I won’t be leaving town for quite a while.” Lyla tucked some messy hair behind her ear. She sighed, then said, “Give me a moment, I’ll get dressed and be right out.”
Before James could answer, the door closed in his face.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets and tried to be patient. After what seemed like an hour, Lyla emerged all fixed up. It even looked as if she’d found time to brush her hair.
“Where’s Joey? Shouldn’t you have brought him with you?” Lyla stared up at him suspiciously.
A Treasure Brought by Fate: A Historical Western Romance Book Page 7