Love is Blind (Cutter's Creek Book 8)

by Kit Morgan

  “Those men that were here – who were they?”

  Lucius took a deep breath in an attempt to push thoughts of Emma out of his head. “The Mattson Gang.”

  “Outlaws?”

  “Yes.”

  Her eyes widened as she put a hand on the fireplace mantle to steady herself. “And they left just like that? What’d ya say to ‘em?”

  “Just that if they left you alone, I’d leave them alone.”

  She eyed him a moment, then nodded. “I see. Seems ya got a rep’tation o’sorts. Hope it serves ya durin’ yer journey to Cutter’s Creek. I wouldn’t want nothin’ to happen to ya or Emma.”

  “I’m confident nothing will.”

  Mrs. White chuckled. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned livin’ out here, it’s there’re no guarantees on nothin’. Only the good Lord’s mercy can see a body through. Ya’d best pray ya have plenty o’ that ‘fore ya leave.”

  “Then I’ll be praying tonight.”

  She arched her eyebrow. “Ya mean yer leavin’ tomorrah?”

  “First thing in the morning. I need to get my … I mean, Miss Carlson to her brother.”

  Mrs. White put a hand to her mouth as if stifling a sob. Perhaps she was. “Yeah, ya do – cain’t argue with ya there. It’s just that we’ll miss that li’l gal. She’s been a pleasure to work with.” She paused, then added, “Ya know … a lot can happen on the trail.”

  “I’m well aware. But I promise I’ll keep her safe.”

  “Even from yerself?”

  Lucius stiffened. He’d been avoiding asking himself that.

  “Uh-huh,” Mrs. White said with a nod. “Ya ain’t made o’wood, Mr. Judrow. And Emma’s a real purty gal.”

  Lucius’ eyes flicked to the floor and back. “That she is, but you have nothing to worry about.”

  “So ya do think she’s purty, huh? Trust me, that ain’t all yer gonna be thinkin’ ‘bout her by the time ya get to Cutter’s Creek.”

  Lucius frowned. “How would you know? Are you planning on tagging along?”

  “Don’t hafta. Seen it before.”

  “Don’t accuse me of something that hasn’t happened.”

  “Yet.”

  He felt his temper rise. “Mrs. White …”

  “Don’t ya ‘Mrs. White’ me. Stronger men than you have fallen in a shorter time.”

  He stared at her as panic crept up his spine. “You have nothing to worry about. I can be a gentleman. I will not take advantage of our marital state.”

  “Ain’t what I’m talkin’ ‘bout and ya know it.”

  “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

  She smirked – easy to do even with only half her face working. “It’s a good thing yer already married, is all I can say.” She turned and went into the kitchen.

  Lucius swallowed hard. What did she know? It’s not like he was planning to fall in love with the girl along the trail.

  But something unfamiliar settled in his gut at the thought. It was an odd sensation, and not unpleasant. It was as if Mrs. White had just proclaimed something to the heavens and now the Almighty would see it done. Part of him felt as if she’d sealed his doom. The other part wanted to find out if what she’d said could possibly come to light.

  Of course it couldn’t. If there was one thing Lucius knew about himself, it was that he could never fall in love. He couldn’t afford to – and maybe didn’t deserve to.

  Emma gathered her things on her bed and stared at the pathetic pile of objects. A brush, a hand mirror and two calico work dresses were all she owned, other than the clothes she was currently wearing.

  Well, there was her diary, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to take it. It was just page after page of misery. She’d started keeping it during the war, and had recorded all the horrible things that had happened to her since, including her father’s insistence she marry a man of his choosing and that Jack supported his decision.

  She’d felt betrayed by her brother. He was her one ally growing up, and now he was siding with their father? But the few times she managed to see Jack when he was on leave, he’d said as much. Or was it the ravages of war talking? Maybe she should give him the benefit of the doubt – not because he’d lost his sight, but because he’d really thought their father was trying to do what was best for her.

  Father could’ve gone about it differently, though. Yelling and screaming didn’t make any prospect he’d picked out as a husband look very appealing. All she’d wanted to do was run as far away as she could get. And she had.

  “Are you packed?” Oscar called from the hallway.

  Emma sighed. “Yes, I think so.”

  “I brought ya somethin’ for the road.”

  She walked out to him and saw the small box in his hand. “What is it?”

  “Somethin’ I bought off a peddler that came through with the stage last year.”

  She took the box from him and opened it to find two hair combs decorated with pearls. “Oh, Oscar, these are beautiful!”

  “They ain’t real pearls,” he stated.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said with a smile. “They’re very pretty.” She looked up at him, curious. “Why did you buy them?”

  “I thought I’d give ‘em to a sweetheart one day. But I think under the circumstances ya should have ‘em. Ya can wear ‘em when ya see yer brother.”

  “Oh, Oscar,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I’m going to miss you and your brothers.”

  He smiled and hugged her. “We’re gonna miss ya too.”

  She backed out of his embrace and studied the combs again. “A sweetheart, huh? Does this mean you’re thinking about getting married?”

  He shrugged. “It’s been on my mind more often than not these days. ‘Specially after yer weddin’.”

  She rolled her eyes as she smiled. “That was no wedding. That was a … precaution.”

  “Yeah, but … ya never know.”

  She cocked her head in question. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  He shrugged again. “Like Ma always preaches, ‘we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called accordin’ to His purpose.’”

  “Oh yes, that,” she said with a sigh. “Well, the purpose of this whole thing is to protect my reputation. Who knows what will happen after the annulment? For all anyone knows, that will label me as something else.”

  “Like what?”

  “Disagreeable, perhaps. Why else would my husband want to be rid of me?”

  “Or maybe he’s the disagreeable one.”

  “He certainly is!”

  Oscar chuckled. “Mr. Judrow’s not so bad.”

  “You only say that because you’re not married to him.”

  “I say it ‘cause it’s true. And ya’d best learn that – yer gonna be spendin’ a lot of time with him startin’ today.”

  She sighed in frustration. “Don’t remind me.”

  He smiled knowingly. “I’d best go check my rolls. I made up a special batch for ya.”

  That pulled a smile from her. “Thank you again, Oscar.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He turned toward the staircase, which made her wonder – what else was Oscar not mentioning? Did he know something she didn’t? She shrugged the thought off and went back to her preparations.

  She went downstairs a few minutes later to find all the Whites gathered around the dining table. “’Bout time ya showed up,” Anson said. “Breakfast’s ready.”

  Emma stopped short. “Breakfast? I thought Mr. Judrow and I were leaving.”

  “Not ‘til ya both eat somethin’,” said Mrs. White. “What fool heads out on an empty stomach?”

  “Amen to that, ma’am,” Mr. Judrow said as he entered from the kitchen and sat. “Smells good.”

  “That’s because it is good,” Emma said without moving.

  “Well, don’t just stand there,” Mrs. White admonished. “Sit down.”

  Emma’s eyes darted around the table. The o
nly empty seat was next to Mr. Judrow. She managed not to groan, went to the table and sat. He glanced at her but kept silent. Good –she didn’t want to start her day exchanging barbs with him. She was hungry and wanted to enjoy her last meal with the Whites.

  “Dear Lord,” Mrs. White began as she folded her hands in front of her and bowed her head. “Watch over our Emma and Mr. Judrow today as they head fer Cutter’s Creek. Ain’t never been there m’self, Lord, but I pray Emma can make a new life there with her brother and his wife and Mr. Judrow.”

  Emma flinched, but kept quiet. Did the woman have to add Mr. Judrow? He wasn’t planning on staying in Cutter’s Creek, was he?

  “And Lord, make sure Ya keep ‘em safe on the journey. Ya know how rough it can be out there – snakes, beasts, bandits, all sorts o’calamity …”

  Emma opened her eyes as her head snapped up, her face stricken with worry. She swallowed hard, bowed her head again and squeezed her eyes shut tight.

  Mrs. White continued. “’Course we all know Mr. Judrow’s perfectly capable o’protectin’ our girl, so Ya just make sure Ya keep ‘em safe and he’ll do the rest.”

  “Amen.” Emma reached for a roll.

  “Not so fast.” Oscar grabbed her hand before she could snatch one. “We ain’t done prayin’ yet,” he said sternly.

  She swallowed hard. “Sorry.”

  Oscar cleared his throat and bowed his head again. Emma watched Mr. Judrow’s shoulders shake with silent mirth.

  Mrs. White picked up again: “And help Emma to watch over him too. A man can get tired and hungry, so help her see when he needs to rest and eat.”

  Emma glanced at her so-called husband. He was staring at Oscar, a look on his face so odd she didn’t even know what to label it.

  “And Lord, help ‘em to unnerstan’ each other by the trail’s end. Amen.” Mrs. White raised her head and smiled. “Let’s eat!”

  Henry and Anson’s hands shot out to grab bacon off a plate while Mrs. White dished herself up some fried potatoes. Oscar casually stabbed at the stack of pancakes and caught the wink his mother gave him.

  Emma and Mr. Judrow just sat there like a couple of statues, both still trying to take in what Mrs. White had been implying. If anything.

  11

  “C’mere, Emma – gimme a hug,” Mrs. White said as she pulled her into her arms.

  Emma grunted and hugged her back.

  “I’m going to miss you, Mrs. White.” She gently pushed them apart. “I’m still not sure why I’m doing this.”

  “’Cause it’s the right thing to do,” Mrs. White told her. “Ya know it, and I know it. Sometimes we got things in our lives just gotta be done. This’s one o’those, child.”

  Henry stood fidgeting off to one side. “Ain’t ya gonna hug me goodbye too?” he asked.

  Emma smiled. “Of course I am.” She walked over, they embraced and his shoulders shook. “Henry, are you crying?”

  “No, I ain’t.” He pulled away, wiping one eye with his fist. “Why would I cry just ‘cause yer leavin’?”

  “Because you’d miss me?”

  “Aw shucks, that’s right.” He wiped his other eye. “But I still ain’t cryin’ over it.”

  “Ain’t no shame in it, Henry,” his mother said.

  “I ain’t gonna cry,” Anson said. “But I’m sure gonna miss ya.” He gave Emma a hug. “I hope you and yer brother make amends, I really do.”

  “I hope so too,” Emma said. In truth, maybe there were no amends to make. She certainly hoped so, but wasn’t going to count on it.”

  Anson stepped back and looked at Oscar. “Yer next.”

  Oscar stepped forward and handed her a small stack. “For the road.”

  She took it. “But you already gave us some rolls.”

  “This is different. A new cookie I’ve been experimentin’ with. Hope ya like ‘em.”

  “I’m sure I will,” Mr. Judrow cut in as he led two horses to the porch steps. “We need to get going if we want to get some distance before sunset.”

  Emma looked at the Whites and tried to keep her lower lip from trembling. She bit it hard, which only sent the shaking to her jaw. “I guess this is goodbye.”

  “Lord be with ya, child,” Mrs. White said. “And you too, Mr. Judrow. Take care o’yer wife, ya hear?”

  Emma and Mr. Judrow exchanged a quick glance. “I will, ma’am,” he said. “You can count on it.”

  “I’m sure I can,” Mrs. White agreed as she looked him in the eye.

  Emma caught the silent exchange between them but wasn’t sure what it meant. Could Mrs. White be warning him? Rather than think on it further, she hugged Mrs. White again. “Goodbye. Thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

  “All I did was hire ya on. Oscar’s the one gave ya half his recipes. Yer gonna arrive in Cutter’s Creek and cook up a storm!”

  Emma laughed. “Maybe not a storm, but it will be nice to cook for my brother and his wife and our cousins.”

  “True ‘nough. Nothin’ more satisfyin’ than cookin’ fer family,” Mrs. White said with a smile. “Now you two get goin’ or it’ll be noon ‘fore ya leave.”

  Emma felt Mr. Judrow’s hand on her arm as he gently tugged her toward the horses. She hadn’t even heard him step onto the porch. How did a man his size move so quietly? She looked at the animals. “Which one is mine?”

  “The white one, of course,” Anson said. “That’s Pearl. Ya’ve seen her before.”

  Good heavens, how could she not know one of the Whites’ own horses? “Of course it is. I suppose I’m nervous.”

  “Understandable,” Mr. Judrow said softly.

  For once he wasn’t teasing her. She had to admit she liked it when he did – he was fun to banter with. But right now she was feeling more than a little melancholy. Why else would he speak to her in such a way? “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he asked.

  “For understanding.”

  He nodded, stepped off the porch and offered her Pearl’s reins. “She’s a gentle mount – you’ll do fine on her.”

  Emma glanced at the skirt of her dress. She would have to ride astride. She hadn’t given it a thought until this moment.

  “I can tell what yer thinkin’, child,” Mrs. White said. “Ya needn’t worry ‘bout a thing. A lotta women hafta ride a horse now and then in a dress. Ain’t no shame in it.”

  Emma nodded and took the reins from Mr. Judrow. It was too late to worry now anyway. “I’ll be all right. It’s just been a long time since I’ve been on a horse.”

  “You’ll be sore for a few days, no mistake, but it’ll pass,” Mr. Judrow assured. He helped her mount, then got on his own horse. “We’ll send word as soon as we get to Cutter’s Creek.”

  “Ya do that, or we’ll worry ourselves sick,” Mrs. White warned.

  Emma looked between Mrs. White and Mr. Judrow. “You’re not expecting us to have trouble, are you?” she asked the woman.

  “Trouble? Heavens, no. The good Lord’ll get ya there. It’s if the two o’ya forget to write that’ll drive me nuts.”

  Emma and Mr. Judrow laughed at her comment. “We’ll be sure to remind each other,” Emma said.

  Now everyone laughed. But it soon faded as Mr. Judrow gave the Whites a last nod of thanks and turned his horse to go. Without any prompting Emma’s horse followed. Now they were truly on their way … but to what, she had no idea. Maybe by the time they got to Cutter’s Creek, she’d have one. She took a deep breath and held it to keep from crying – no easy task. She looked back and waved, and that started the tears falling.

  “Cutter’s Creek isn’t that far,” he said. “Maybe next summer you could come back for a visit.”

  “I have no idea what next summer will bring or where I’ll be, Mr. Judrow, let alone be in a position to come visit the Whites.” She wiped away her tears.

  “No shame in crying, Miss Carlson. The Whites are nice people, some of the nicest I’ve ever met. I guess if I was you, I might blubber a litt
le too.”

  “Well, you’re not me and I’m not blubbering, so kindly keep your opinions to yourself.”

  He didn’t turn to look at her. “Suit yourself.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  His head turned just a hair. “It means I was trying to offer you some words of comfort, but you had to go and bite my head off.”

  “I … didn’t know.” She slumped in the saddle. “I guess I was too harsh, wasn’t I?”

  He faced forward. “Just a bit.”

  Emma straightened back up with a sigh. She hoped it wasn’t going to be like this for however long it took to get to Cutter’s Creek. Why did they have to ride the entire way? Hmmm … maybe they didn’t. “Are we going to take a stage at any point? It would be faster.”

  “What would we do with the horses?”

  “Um … sell them?”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m not parting with my horse. We are riding to Cutter’s Creek, Miss Carlson, and that’s the end of it. I rode all the way here to fetch you, so you can ride all the way back.”

  She gasped in indignation and glared at him. “You’re not exactly concerned when it comes to a lady’s comfort, are you?”

  He twisted around in the saddle to look at her. He was smiling, which made her nervous. “There are no stagecoaches along the trail we’re traveling. In some spots, there are barely roads. So you see, you’d have to ride the entire way anyhow.” He faced forward again. “Unless you’d rather walk.”

  The wretch – he was just teasing her again! But she supposed it was better than cold silence, which she wanted to avoid. If she didn’t, she’d think about leaving the Whites to go into an unknown situation with her brother. What if he hadn’t changed? What if it was all an act he’d put on to make everyone think he was some righteous man? Of course, he’d never exactly been unrighteous, just insufferable at times.

  But she couldn’t lay all the blame on Jack – most of her misery was inflicted by their father. He was the one that badgered her about marrying his choice of a husband until she thought she’d go mad.

  “We’ll stop around noon,” Mr. Judrow called over his shoulder. “There’s a stream a few hours away where we can water the horses and have something to eat.”