by Natalie Dean
“Oh! You must be Miss Thorne! Elijah has told us all so much about you, dear!”
Just as Agatha turned towards the sound, she found herself enveloped in a fervent embrace. She was squeezed so tightly that she could hardly register that the arms circling her belonged to an elderly and rather large woman.
When Agatha was finally released, she pulled back slightly to take in bright green eyes and the round face of the woman she assumed to be Mrs. Matthews, the owner of the hotel who Elijah had told her about in his letters.
“I hope you’ll forgive me for being so familiar, dear,” the older woman said. “But, Elijah’s talked of you so often I feel as though I know you already. Please come in! Oh, don’t worry about your bags, Robert will take them to your room for you. While he does that, both of you must sit down in the kitchen for some tea. I’m sure you’ll need it after the journey you’ve had.”
She said all this very quickly while nearly pulling both Agatha and Elijah over the threshold of the hotel. Eyes wide, more than a little overwhelmed, Agatha looked over her shoulder at Elijah. He gave her an understanding, humorous smile.
As soon as they were over the threshold, he took her arm as Mrs. Matthews moved quickly ahead of them.
“I’m sorry about Mrs. Matthews,” he said. “I realize she can be a bit overbearing at first.”
“I suppose you’re used to it,” Agatha said looking up to him again. He smiled down at her and, once more, she felt a little flipping sensation in her stomach.
His hand remained gently on her arm until they reached the kitchen where he pulled out a chair for her at the long wooden table. Again, Agatha smiled in thanks, her cheeks growing warm.
She was still very unused to such genteel behavior from a suitor. In the last five years, working at the factory back in New York, the only men she met were brash and coarse. Certainly, nothing like Elijah Rhodes.
“I’m certain you’ll enjoy living in Laramie,” Mrs. Matthews said in her quick, bright manner as she brought in a steaming pot of tea and set it on the table. “It really is a lovely community. Nothing like those horrid tales you might have heard about some of the other towns out west. Though with the new business in town, I do wonder if we’re not headed down that dark road.”
“New business?” Agatha asked looking from Mrs. Matthews to Elijah.
“Mrs. Matthews is speaking of the new saloon that opened only one month ago,” Elijah said. “She seems to feel that it will attract a certain…undesirable set to our community.”
Mrs. Matthews bright face darkened at the mention of the saloon. She set two cups down in front of Agatha and Elijah just a bit more forcefully than was necessary.
“It already has attracted an undesirable set,” Mrs. Matthews said. “Miss Thorne, I’m sure you saw those…women hanging out the windows of the place. Half-dressed for anyone to see. It was bad enough not having any eligible young women in Laramie to begin with. Now, our young men must be tempted day and night with those sorts of women. It’s nothing short of a tragedy.”
“I must admit it was quite a shocking sight,” Agatha said.
“More shocking for those in town, believe me,” Elijah said. “Most young men here are hardly used to seeing ladies at all. Seeing them all at once threw more than one into a sort of trance. Though I must admit, the church had never been so full of penitents the next morning.”
To Agatha’s surprise, the pastor chuckled a bit at the plight of the young men in his flock. Mrs. Matthews looked at him with her eyes narrowed.
“I must say, Pastor,” she said. “I hardly thought that you, of all people, would take a house of ill repute in the town so lightly.”
Elijah shrugged, still smiling
“Worrying about the new business won’t cause it to close its doors,” he said. “The most I can do is show the people in my congregation through word and example what should and should not be done. From there, I can only pray that they make the right choices.”
Mrs. Matthews face relaxed at that, all the same, she heaved a sigh as she sat down, the chair creaking slightly beneath her weight.
“Well, I must say I am grateful to see you providing our young men with a good example of what a good Christian wife should be,” Mrs. Matthews said, raising her cup towards Agatha. “Though it is a shame that our decent young men are forced to look elsewhere for pure and virtuous girls. I must say, I would rather entertain a dozen nice, Christian girls from back east than see even one of our young men married to a woman like the sort you see outside the saloon. And certainly, girls like that would be no match for a pastor of all people.”
Agatha felt her face grow warm again. Though, this time, the sensation was much less pleasant. When she thought of her own past, she wondered if Mrs. Matthews would not lump her in with the same women she saw hanging about the saloon.
“I do not think you have much to fear there, Mrs. Matthews,” Elijah said taking a sip of his tea. “Women who have given up their virtue usually also give up all ideas of marriage.”
At his words, the knot in Agatha’s stomach tightened. The pain became so great that the cup in her hand began to shake. When she sat it down on the saucer, the loud clink caused Mrs. Matthews to jump and let out a small cry.
Elijah put a steady hand on her still shaking fingers.
“Agatha? Are you alright?”
Taking a deep breath, she did her best to smile at him, though she was sure she hadn’t entirely managed it.
“Yes,” she said. Her voice sounding thin and fragile. “I suppose I’m tired from the journey.”
“Well, no wonder, poor dear!” Mrs. Matthews exclaimed standing from her chair. “That carriage ride can shake even the strongest of nerves. I’ll show you to your room.”
Agatha, unsure if she could take another moment in Mrs. Matthews overwhelming presence, opened her mouth to politely decline this offer. Before she could, Elijah caught her eye and, with another understanding smile, stood from his seat.
“Thank you, Mrs. Matthews, but we wouldn’t want to put you out anymore than we already have. I can show Agatha to her room.”
Luckily, Mrs. Matthews gave them an understanding smile and nodded.
“Well, I suppose you two will need some time alone together,” she said. “Dinner will be at six o’clock, Miss Thorne. I’m sure you’ll want to rest before then.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Matthews,” Agatha said quietly. She tried to give the old woman a smile but, once again was not certain she had managed it.
A moment later, Elijah took hold of her arm and began to lead her down a small hallway with doors on either side.
“I do hope your introduction to our little town wasn’t too off-putting,” Elijah said. “Mrs. Matthews means well. But, she also tends to speak her mind with no regard for her audience.”
“I suppose it’s good that she is so concerned for the people in town,” Agatha said. “The way she speaks about the young men, you would think they were all her sons.”
“I suppose they are, in a way,” he said. “Mrs. Matthews never had sons. She did have two daughters who married and left home several years ago. Now, I suppose she seeks out people who she thinks need mothering.”
Agatha nodded. Wondering, once again, what Mrs. Matthews would think if she truly knew the sort of woman her beloved pastor was about to marry.
The anxiety that accompanied her thoughts must have shown on her face. When they stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway, Elijah was, once again, looking at her with concern.
“Agatha,” he said. “Are you certain everything is alright?”
“Yes,” Agatha said trying to keep her voice as steady as possible. “I just need some sleep, I suppose. It was difficult to rest in the carriage.”
Though he nodded at her explanation, the concern remained shining in his gray eyes. She could tell that he did not quite believe her.
“I suppose I will see you at dinner then,” he said. Agatha gave him the most genuine smile sh
e could and turned to open her door. Just as she did, he touched her arm once more.
“Agatha,” he said, causing her to turn around. When she did, the quiet, confident humor had been replaced by the slight anxiety she had seen in Elijah on the road outside the hotel. The pleasant flip returned to her stomach.
“I meant what I said in my last letter,” he told her. “I will do everything I can to make sure you are happy here.”
With that, he took her hand in his and raised her knuckles to his lips. His eyes never leaving hers, he placed a gentle, chaste kiss on her hand.
Agatha stared at him, feeling as though she should say something. But, the anxiety mixed with her rapidly beating heart and the pleasant flipping sensation in her stomach was making it impossible for her to speak.
Elijah didn’t seem to expect an answer.
He let go of her hand, and with a small smile and nod, he turned and made his way down the hallway.
Agatha watched him go, praying to God that this good, kind, honest man would never learn just what sort of tainted woman he had agreed to marry.
Chapter 4
“There’s no sheriff in Laramie?” Agatha asked Mrs. Matthews again, surprised the first time by the answer the older woman had given.
Agatha had been in Laramie all of three days now. There were only four more until the wedding was set to take place. So far, what Mrs. Matthews said had proven to be true, for the most part. Laramie was a peaceful town.
Early that morning, however, Mrs. Matthews thoughts about the saloon had also proved true. At around midnight, a fight over a girl had broken out at the bar. The injured now crammed the parlor of the hotel. Agatha had been asleep when Mrs. Matthews knocked on her door asking for help.
Now, she helped the landlady gather clean washcloths and old bandages while Elijah and the town doctor, Doctor Smith, tended to the wounded.
“There’s never been a need for one. At least there wasn’t before that place opened,” Mrs. Matthews said putting a spiteful emphasis on ‘that place’ as she pushed several more washcloths into Agatha’s overburdened arms.
“You mean there’s never been a crime here?” she asked. “No…disputes even?”
“If there were, we were always able to manage amongst ourselves,” Mrs. Matthews said. “Clearly that won’t be enough now. We’ll need a lawman here.”
“You mean someone will have to run for sheriff?” Agatha asked.
“It looks that way,” Mrs. Matthews said with a sigh as she led Agatha out towards the parlor. “Though it’s going to be a difficult job finding someone competent among our boys. There are some fine young men in our town no question. But, most are young and inexperienced. The ones who are old enough, like your fiancé, is too burdened with their own work to take on more. And the others…well.”
“What about the others?” Agatha asked curiously.
“Well, let’s just say there were some unscrupulous types even in a nice town like this before that saloon went up,” Mrs. Matthews said, her voice lowering to a whisper as though afraid the walls could hear her.
The tone made Agatha want to ask what Mrs. Matthews meant by that. But, before she got the chance, they entered the parlor, and Mrs. Matthews shooed her over to a patient Elijah was seeing to.
Agatha’s fiancé was currently bent over a young man with bright blonde hair, blue eyes, and a stocky build.
“Is he, all right?” Agatha asked dipping one of the clean cloths in the water bowl and handing it to Elijah.
“Oh, Sam here’ll be fine,” Elijah said reassuringly, wiping the cloth over a scratch above the young man’s eye. “Just a few scrapes and bruises.”
“Not to mention a splitting headache,” the young man, Sam, groaned from his spot on the floor. Elijah gave his familiar warm chuckle.
“That has more to do with the drinking than the fight,” Elijah said. “Rest a day and you’ll probably be back to normal. We’ll call the doctor over to give you a clean bill of health. Then you can go.”
It was much the same with the other patients Elijah and Agatha tended to. Luckily the fight involved fists only. No knives or guns. Agatha kept a steady supply of bandages and clean cloths available as Elijah and the doctor wiped cuts and bandaged sprains.
By the time the sun rose, almost all the men had been sent home to sleep off their drinks. Only one remained slumped over on the couch. His long, dark hair had fallen over his face hiding it from view. But, even with the partial view of him, Agatha could see that this boy was worse off than the rest had been.
“He’ll have to stay for a day at least,” Doctor Smith said. “He’s had a concussion. Best not to move him.”
“He’s one of the guests who came in on the last carriage,” Mrs. Matthews said. “He has a room here as it is. I can move him there.”
“Don’t bother Mrs. Matthews,” Elijah said gently. “You’ve done plenty for one night. The doctor and I will take him.”
Mrs. Matthews, to Agatha’s surprise, did not protest but gave a tired nod. The woman’s face looked more pale and drawn tonight than it usually did.
“Mrs. Matthews,” Agatha said gently moving over to the landlady. “Why don’t you go get some rest. Elijah and I will clean up.”
Agatha looked to her fiancé. His slight nod signaled his silent consent to this plan.
“Oh, I couldn’t put you out like that,” Mrs. Matthews said.
“Nonsense,” Agatha insisted. “It’ll be good practice for me. I’ll have to learn to cook breakfast after a night of nursing fight victims if I’m to be a pastor’s wife.”
“That you will,” Elijah said, meeting her eyes with a smile. She returned it much more confidently now than she had three days before. Though the pleasant flipping sensation in her chest remained.
A moment later, Elijah and the doctor lifted their patient from the couch. His hair fell away from his face, and the pleasant flipping sensation was replaced by an anxiety filled thud in her heart.
It couldn’t be.
What was he doing all the way out here? How had he found her?
Just as she took a deep breath, trying desperately to compose herself, the boy’s eyes opened.
Those brown eyes, more than a little bloodshot, looked straight at her.
“You,” the boy whispered. “I know you.”
“What did he say?” Elijah asked looking from Agatha to the boy, eyes narrowed in confusion.
“He won’t make sense for a bit, I’m afraid,” the doctor said. “That’s common after a hit to the head. Best get him to his room.”
The doctor slung the boy’s arm over his shoulder and Elijah hesitantly did the same. Both he and the dark-haired boy turned and gave Agatha one last look before disappearing down the hallway.
With a deep breath, heart still beating wildly in her chest, Agatha led Mrs. Matthews back to her room.
“Do you know that boy, Agatha?” Mrs. Matthews asked, not sounding nearly as tired now that the prospect of new gossip was on the horizon.
“I do not believe so,” Agatha said, a guilty knot forming in her stomach. “It’s possible he thought I was someone else.”
“I suppose so,” Mrs. Matthews said reluctantly. “And, he did hit his head hard, poor boy.”
Agatha was more than glad when they reached Mrs. Matthews room behind the kitchen, and she said good night without any more questions being asked.
But, as she headed into the kitchen and absent-mindedly gathered the eggs in the pantry for breakfast, she knew that would not be the end of this. Elijah would not be as easily appeased as a tired Mrs. Matthews had been.
Just as she was trying to think of some story, some possible explanation for the boy’s recognition of her, the kitchen door opened and Elijah stepped in.
“Well, the last of our patients has been put to bed,” Elijah said. “I sent Doctor Smith off too. He looked nearly as tired as Mrs. Matthews did. And, given the number of guests involved in the fight, we won’t have a full table for breakfast. F
ive of us at most, I’d say.”
“That’s a relief,” Agatha said gathering the pans and determinately not looking at Elijah.
As she put a pan on the stove, he stepped up beside her and began cracking eggs into a bowl.
“After breakfast, I thought we might take a ride out to the Dixon’s farm,” Elijah said. “You’ve not met them yet. And I have a feeling you and Mrs. Dixon will get along well. That is, if you’re not too tired.”
“No, I’m not too tired,” Agatha said. “That sounds lovely. After last night, it might be nice to get out of town for a bit.”
He smiled at her as he cracked another egg into the bowl.
For half a moment, she thought that, maybe, he wouldn’t ask her about what had happened in the parlor at all.
Maybe he would take the doctor’s word that the boy had simply suffered a great injury and did not know what he was saying.
But, Agatha already knew Elijah too well for that. He spoke about difficult subjects gently, but he always talked about them. And, she knew he would talk about this. It was only a question of when.
The ‘when’ came a short while later, after the eggs were cracked, cooked and Agatha had begun pushing them onto plates for the guests.
“Agatha,” he said gently. “I know that boy in the parlor suffered a head injury. But, it seemed as though…he sounded as though he knew you.”
“I don’t know how he could have,” she said, her cheeks growing warm all the same. “I didn’t recognize him.”
Even as she turned her back on him and busied herself with the plates, she could feel his gaze on her. She’d never been particularly good at lying. And, in the three days she’d spent with him, she’d learned that Elijah had a particularly fine-tuned talent of seeing right through her.
All the same, she told herself to breath and keep as steady as possible. This was one secret she would not, could not, let Elijah know.
“Agatha,” he said after a moment’s silence. “If there’s something you’re afraid to tell me, you shouldn’t be. I won’t judge you for anything you did before we met.”