The rest of what had happened was murky. She vaguely remembered someone…a man…walking toward her just as the sun rose on the horizon. The light had shone around him like an angelic halo. He had taken her inside his home and done his best to warm her. He had been kind and gentle. What was his name—Harold? Henry?
She slowly looked around the room. There was a bureau across the room from her, next to the door. The door itself stood partially open. Next to the bed was a small table with a wash basin and ewer, which stood before the one window the room had to offer. Through it, she could see that it was snowing. Or rather, by the fact that all she could see was a swirling mass of white, she knew that there was quite the snowstorm happening and she was grateful to have found shelter before the storm had hit.
Next to the table stood a wooden chair. Draped over the back of the chair was her shawl. Her shoes sat neatly underneath it.
She pulled the covers back on the bed and swung her legs over the side. She found the flannel-wrapped bricks at the foot of the bed and pulled them out. As she quickly made the bed, she wondered where the rest of her belongings might be.
When she had the bed presentable, she worked on making herself more presentable as well. She removed the two blouses and skirts she had worn over her Sunday dress and folded them neatly. She then placed them on top of the bureau and sat down in the chair to put her shoes on. Once she was fully dressed, she unbraided her hair and finger-combed it. She quickly braided her hair before the small mirror above the bureau and pinned it back into place.
After the warmth of the bed, which had far too many quilts and blankets on it, the room was rather chilly. The sooner she found her way to the kitchen, the better. She pulled her shawl around her shoulders, opened the bedroom door more fully, and stepped out into a short hallway. She saw two other doors, which were closed, then noticed the stairs to her left.
As she carefully made her way down the stairs, Josephine smelled the delicious aroma of bread baking in the oven. Her stomach growled loudly and flushed with embarrassment, although there was no one around to have heard. She followed her nose to the kitchen, where she got her first good, conscious look at the man who had saved her.
He was standing before the stove, pulling a fresh, if somewhat lopsided-looking, loaf of bread out of the oven. He was a tall man with a large build, though not plump and soft like her step-father. This man looked like he worked hard for a living. He appeared to be middle-aged. His brown, somewhat curly hair was a bit long, as though he had not had it cut in some time, though his face was cleanly shaven.
He turned around to set the bread to cool on the table and smiled broadly when he saw her standing in the doorway. Little wrinkles formed in the corners of his eyes as he smiled. He did not appear to be very old, so it was another indicator that he was out in the sun more than not. Josephine tried to guess at his age, but it was hard to tell by looking at the man. She guessed he must be around thirty or so.
“Missy!” he exclaimed with delight. “I thought you were going to sleep the day away! Come in, sit down.” Hank hastily placed the bread on the table and pulled a chair out from the table for her.
A confused look passed over Josephine’s face as she took the seat he offered her and murmured a polite, “Thank you.”
“Are you hungry? I just made some bread.” Hank winced as he said it. It was obvious that he had, since she walked in as he took it from the oven. “I can get you some butter, and maybe some jam?”
Josephine would have declined, but her stomach growled loudly at the thought of having something warm and fresh to eat. She blushed profusely at the sound.
Hank chuckled and bustled about the room to gather the butter and jam for her. He then carefully sliced her two pieces of bread and set them on a clean plate. “Here you go, Missy. Eat up. I made some stew while you were sleeping. Should be ready soon.”
“Thank you, Harry,” Josephine replied nervously. She wished she could remember his name, but it eluded her, so she gave it her best try.
He chuckled. “The name’s Hank, Missy. I reckon you were too tired and cold to remember much of what we said when I found you this morning.”
Josephine blushed profusely. Here this man had found her and taken her into his home, saved her from freezing to death, and she could not even remember his name! She was ashamed of herself and wished that she could just disappear under the table.
Hank saw her embarrassment and did his best to help her push past it. “Want something to drink? Something hot? I got some coffee made.” At her nod, he quickly got her a cup and placed it next to her plate of bread. “Sugar?”
She nodded again, still too embarrassed to look up at him, and began to butter her bread. Anything that helped her avoid looking at him at that moment was a good thing, in her mind at least.
He placed a small jar of sugar near her and gave her a spoon. “So, how are you feeling?” he asked as he sat down across from her. Her color certainly looked better. He loved how rosy her cheeks were at the moment, even if it was from embarrassment.
Josephine shrugged. “Much better, thank you.” She wished that she could get past her embarrassment and thank him properly, but the cat had her tongue.
Hank could tell that she was nervous. He could not really blame her. It would be easier if there were another woman in the house, no doubt, but with the storm raging outside, there was no way he could get Madeline there safely in her condition. He scratched at his ear as he thought of things he could say to her.
“I hope you don’t mind that I went through your things,” he started. “I got your quilt drying by the stove over there.” He gestured to the quilt hanging on the line he had hastily strung in the corner by the window.
Josephine nodded as she sank her teeth into the buttered bread and sighed with delight. She was surprised at how good it tasted. She had never known a man who could bake decently, or cook at all for that matter.
Hank’s eyes twinkled with merriment as he watched her enjoy the bread. “I got your boots sitting there by the stove to dry, too. Coat’s already done and hanging by the door.”
Josephine ate in silence as she polished off the first piece of bread. She had been so hungry, she had not even taken the time to put any of the jam he had given her on it. Now that those sharp hunger pains had been fed, she slowed down and buttered her next slice of bread before spooning some jam onto it. She decided it was not fair for him to have to make all the conversation, so she gestured to the jar of jam.
“Did you make that yourself?”
Hank chuckled. “Me? No, ma’am. I’m lucky enough to be able to make bread and a few dinner fixin’s. My boss’s wife, Madeline…she made the jam. And that broth I warmed up for you this morning.”
“Do they live nearby?” Josephine knew that it was very improper for her to be alone with a strange man as she was, but necessity proved stronger than propriety. She was extremely fortunate that he had not harmed her in any way. She supposed that if he were going to, he would have done so already. He just did not feel like the type of man who would harm a woman in any way, though.
Hank nodded. “Next ranch over. This here was Caleb’s brother’s house. I’m keeping an eye on the place until I can build my own house in the spring.”
The name sounded familiar, yet Josephine’s mind was still foggy. “And Caleb is…?”
“My boss. He’s just a touch younger than me. His pa started their ranch and took me in when I was just sixteen. I got the land on the other side of his ranch and we’re going to become partners, if he agrees to it.”
He said it with such pride that Josephine knew he had been dreaming about this for a long time. She smiled, pleased to see him so happy.
“Then who will live here when you build your house?” She assumed the brother had died, but did not want to pry for details. Death was common enough without bringing the details into it.
“Well, now…that is entirely up to Caleb, but I imagine Walter. Maybe Jim or Silas, but Walter has
the better head on his shoulders to be my replacement.” Hank chewed his lip as he paused to consider the situation, then nodded. “Yep, I think I’ve been grooming Walter to replace me all along, without my even knowing it.”
Josephine nodded. She had no idea who these men were that he was referring to, but clearly they all worked for this man named Caleb.
Hank got up from the table and went to check on the stew. He pulled apart a hunk of beef to make certain that the meat had been cooked all the way through, then poked at a couple of potatoes and carrots to make sure they were done as well. He smiled once he realized the meal was ready.
“Hope you’re hungry,” he said as he reached for some bowls. “Stew’s ready.”
Josephine watched as he ladled some stew into the bowls and brought them to the table. It felt odd to be waited on instead of being the one doing the serving, but it was a nice respite. She waited until Hank had put out some knives and forks, sat back down, and said the blessing before mentioning what was foremost on her mind.
“How long do you think the storm will continue? I don’t want to outstay my welcome.”
Hank, who had been about to take a large bite of stew, lowered his fork and gave it some thought. “Hopefully by morning. You got somewhere to go?”
Josephine stared at the stew in her bowl and shook her head. “No, but I don’t want to impose on you any more than I have already. You’ve been so kind to me. I can’t begin to thank you.”
Hank took a smaller bite and chewed thoughtfully before speaking. “I know you must be running from something bad. No, don’t bother to deny it, Missy. No one in their right mind would go for a midnight stroll across the prairie on such a cold night just for fun. And I think that bruise you’re sporting has something to do with it as well. Am I right?”
She nodded and blushed profusely, unable to look up and meet his gaze.
He sighed softly. “Why don’t you tell me what happened? I promise, I won’t make you go back there.”
Josephine risked a glance up at Hank. He seemed sincere and truly concerned about her. She stared into her stew as she considered what to tell him and finally took a small bite. It could have used a bit more seasoning, but was otherwise quite tasty.
“My father died when I was six. My mother remarried when I was ten. Her new husband decided to move to Nebraska three years later to work with the railroad out here. He threw together a little sod cabin and promised to build her a nice house as soon as he could. He never did. We moved from town to town, until he stopped working for the railroad and moved us to Redington. He worked for the mercantile there.”
Josephine paused in her story to take a sip of her coffee. Hank patiently waited for her to tell her story. He could tell that it was hard for her to talk about and did not want to rush her.
“He was good to my mother,” she continued. “He never liked me much, though. I suppose I reminded him that his wife had once loved another man. He’s the jealous sort.” She paused to look up at Hank to make certain he was listening.
Hank nodded for her to continue. He ate slowly as he listened and tried to fill in the bits she was leaving out.
“Ma died three years ago. Since then, my step-father has been getting angrier and angrier about everything and anything. He took it out on me one too many times, so I decided to leave. I was going to wait for spring, but…” Josephine touched her bruised cheek to indicate why she left when she had.
Hank waited for her to continue, but she merely went back to eating her stew. “Do you think he’ll try to find you?”
Josephine shrugged a little. “I stayed in the tracks on the road to hide where I had gone, so he couldn’t follow my footprints. I went west, figuring he might think I would go back east and head home. After about an hour, I saw a trail and followed that to a creek. Then I turned north. I found an abandoned soddie and warmed myself as best I could before I headed back out. Once I saw Chimney Rock, I walked toward it. I knew there was a small town near the rock and hoped to find some shelter. You know the rest.”
He was amazed at how well she had thought things through. This was no dainty wall flower, but a strong and determined woman. His mind wandered to marriage once again, but he did not want to just blurt it out and scare her off. She would make a good wife, though.
“I reckon this snowstorm will cover any tracks he might find, if he even found where you went off the road. You’re welcome to stay here with me, Missy, or I’m sure Caleb and his wife would take you in, if you’d prefer. The Starks are good people.”
Josephine thought about how he was calling her “Missy” and realized that she had not yet told him her name. She had not planned to tell anyone, yet he had said he would not send her back to Horace. She was not certain why, but she believed him.
“My name is Josephine, but my ma always called me Josie.”
Hank smiled as he realized that she was beginning to trust him. “Mind if I call you Josie?”
She shook her head and smiled. It felt good to hear someone calling her by her pet name once again. Her step-father never had.
They spent the rest of the meal in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Hank was the first to finish eating, and then glanced at the clock on the shelf above the pie safe.
“I got to get out to take care of the animals. I’ll take care of the dishes when I get back, all right?”
Josephine merely smiled as she watched him bundle up before he headed outside. There was no way she was going to let him wash the dishes after all he had done for her, but she was also not about to tell him that. She waited until he was out of eyeshot, which did not take long with the way the snow was still coming down, then got up from the table and proceeded to clean up their mess from dinner.
*****
When Hank came back in from the barn, he found Josephine sitting close to the stove with her shawl wrapped around herself for warmth. He smiled as he removed his coat, hat, and scarf, and hung them on their pegs to dry. He certainly could get used to coming home and to find Josie waiting for him.
He turned toward the dry sink, fully expecting to wash the dishes next, only to find them clean and stacked neatly on the side board. He raised a brow in surprise, but said nothing about it. Instead, he merely washed his hands and proceeded to toss the dirty dish water outside.
Hank set the dish pan to dry in the sink, then turned to Josephine. “Thank you for washing up the dishes. You didn’t have to. I would have done them.”
She smiled. “It was the least I could do. You’ve done so much for me already.”
Hank shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He decided to change the subject. “Snow is letting up. I’ll be heading back to work on the ranch in the morning.”
Josephine realized that she had kept him from his duties on the ranch and her heart sank with worry. “I hope you won’t be in trouble for staying home with me today.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. Walter came by this morning to see why I didn’t show up. I told him something came up and that I’d explain it all to Caleb tomorrow.”
She chewed her lip nervously and fidgeted with her shawl. “And what will you tell him, exactly?”
Hank sighed, pulled a chair up across from hers, and sat down. “Well, now…that depends on you.”
She looked up at him with wide eyes, afraid of what he might say and what her future held. She was not certain why, but she felt safe with Hank. She had not felt safe in years. “On me?”
He nodded. “Are you planning on staying here, in Chimney Rock? Or are you gonna keep running?” Hank held his breath as he nervously awaited her answer.
“I…I don’t know. I didn’t have much of a plan, other than getting away,” Josephine admitted. She felt foolish for not having any ideas of where to run to once she had gotten away.
Hank swallowed hard past the lump that formed in his throat. He stood up and began to pace through the room, his boots thumping softly on the wooden floorboards as he went.
Josephine watched
Hank pace around the room. She could tell that he was deep in thought, so she waited patiently.
He cleared his throat. “Remember how I told you I’m gonna build myself a house this spring? That I got a homestead now?”
Josephine nodded, uncertain of where he was going with this train of thought.
“Well, I also decided that I was gonna send off for a mail order bride, like Caleb did. He and Maddy are so happy. I thought, why not try it myself? I was gonna wait until I had at least the cabin built, so my bride wouldn’t have to move twice.”
Hank’s pacing had grown more frantic as he spoke, so much so that it startled Josephine when he suddenly stopped. She actually jumped a little in her chair.
Hank grew beet red as he began, but there was no stopping now. Once the words had begun, they flew out of his mouth like a murder of crows from the corn fields.
“I can’t offer you much, not right now, but…I was thinking, if you married me now, I could offer you protection. Your step-father couldn’t touch you. We can live together here while I build our house, then we can move into it when it’s ready. It won’t be an easy life, but I promise you I’ll take care of you. I’m a hard worker, and I’ll do everything I can to make a good life for us. What do you say?”
Josephine sat still for a moment, stunned. She blinked as she took in what he had just said. “Are you…are you asking me to marry you?” she murmured in surprise. It certainly had not been what she was expecting him to say.
Too late, Hank realized that he should have gotten down on one knee and done it properly. He did so now, and asked her earnestly, “Josie, would you do me the honor of marrying me?”
Had she not been sitting down, Josephine was certain that she would have fallen over. It was all too much to take in at once. She did not want to hurt Hank’s feelings, but she needed time to think.
“Can I…? Would you mind terribly if I thought about it a bit first?” she asked shyly. Marriage was not what she had set out to find, yet there was something about this man that drew her in. He was kind. He seemed honest and sincere. He reminded her a bit of her own father. Could she be as happy with him as her mother had been with her father?
Hank's Runaway Bride (Brides of Chimney Rock Book 1) Page 3