by Sky Winters
“You have a good way about you with the animals,” he continued, unsure exactly how to begin to her to know her better. Her expression was wary. She was clearly just as lost in the conversation as he was.
“I've always felt connected to them,” she said, allowing herself to show the joy that animals brought her on her face. The way that her expression lit up made her look truly beautiful, despite the scars on her face. Suddenly, he wondered how he had never realized it before.
“Did you have any when you were a young girl?” he asked, glad to have found a topic that he could engage her on that would not lead her to ask questions of him that he did not want to answer.
“Yes, but I was not allowed to take them with me to the orphanage. The farm animals went to a neighbor so that didn't worry me too awful much because they were good people. My dog though, he was the sweetest thing but he wasn't much of a herder so nobody had any use for him. The sheriff took him away but I never knew where they took him. That was a hardship,” she said, biting back the sob that threatened to escape her throat. She had worked hard to keep from thinking about that moment for a very long time and it felt very much like a fresh wound to think of it now.
“I'm sorry you had to endure that,” he said, speaking both about her past and current grief about her loss.
“It's the past,” she said, rising to clear the table. He could feel her closing herself back off. When she had first come, he had been glad that she had no desire to share her past or to ask him about his. Now though, he felt a deep desire to know more about the woman that he was going to be sharing his life with.
“Why did you have to go to an orphanage?” he asked bluntly. Her eyes widened with surprise and he was himself surprised that he had asked her. Still, he wanted to know and he had no intention of taking the question back. For the first time in years, he had the desire to connect with another human and he could not step away without an answer.
“I was wondering when we would have this conversation,” she said with a weary sigh. Slowly, she put the plates in the wash bin and returned to her seat at the table.
“You don't need to talk about it if you do not want to,” he said, aware that the thought of talking about whatever darkness was him her past was causing her pain.
“No, it's alright,” she said with a sad smile on her face. She tucked her hair behind her ear, a habit he had noticed that she had when she was anxious. “It will be good for you to know,” she continued. “My family was a happy one. I was the youngest girl. I had two older brothers and an older sister. My mother and father had a homestead around the size of this one. We all worked hard but we were so happy. I was 7 when it happened. One night, somehow, the oil lamp fell on to one of the straw beds they had for us kids. The fire tore through the place so fast. I can still hear the screaming. The entire place was full of smoke and fire. I could not see anything. Suddenly, I felt a strong set of hands on my shoulders. My oldest brother dragged me across the room, fighting off the flames. He did the best he could to shield me, but as you can see, nothing was left untouched by the flames,” she said as she gestured to her scarred cheek.
“He managed to get us both out the door before the House collapsed. He didn't survive much longer. I probably wouldn't have either but our neighbors saw the smoke and came running. One of them was a midwife. She knew enough about medicine to keep me going until they could get me to the Doc. The weeks after are a blur. When my mind cleared again, I was in Denver with the nuns. They took good care of me at the orphanage. I owe the Sisters of Mercy a debt that I can never pay. They are the reason I have a life at all.” When she finished speaking, tears glistened in her eyes but she did not give herself over to the grief. Sitting there, watching her in the light of the candles, Terrance felt something within his heart awaken that he had thought long dead. Suddenly, he did not know what to do or say next. It had been a very long time since he had tried to comfort another and he had not faith in himself to say the right thing to her.
“It's getting late. You ought to go get some rest,” he said, unable to take his eyes from her. He watched her shake off her sadness and rise again from the table.
“You're right. Good night,” she said, walking slowly away from him.
“Thank you, for telling me,” he called after her. He wanted nothing more than to say just the right thing to her to bring her some kind of peace, the kind of peace she had brought to his home. Those were the only words he could find.
“You're welcome,” she said with a smile, telling him that he must have said something right. As soon as she closed her bedroom door behind her, the room was colder for the loss of her.
The following morning, Lucy arose at her usual time, but found that Terrance had already left. It was odd, because it was a Sunday, the one day he did not have to be at the mine and she knew how little he cared to go in to town. She walked all around the farm, but she could find no trace of him. All she could think of was that their attempt at emotional intimacy the evening before had made him uncomfortable and he had gone off to put some distance between them. She could think of nothing else to do but to get to work, so she made her way to the chicken coup to gather eggs.
When he still had not returned by the time she got back to the house, she settled in to doing the laundry, a task she knew would occupy her hands and mind for at least a few hours. It was not until nearly lunch time that he came riding back up to the house. She expected him to go right to the barn and avoid her, but instead he rode right to her before dismounting.
“Where have you been? I was surprised to find you gone this morning,” she said, putting down the laundry basket she had been holding as she put the clothing on the line to dry.
“I had business in town,” he said as he walked towards her, a suspicious smile on his face.
“Town?” she asked in disbelief. It was true that she did not know her husband well, but he had always been very honest about his feelings about going in to town.
“Yes, don't act so shocked. I go to town, just not often,” he said, clearly annoyed by the delay her questioning was causing.
“Alright,” she said as she began to bend down to lift the basket and return to her work.
“This is for you,” he said, opening his jacket and pulling from it a wriggling ball of fur and thrusting it in to her arms.
“What in the world,” she asked, so stunned that it took her mind a moment to comprehend exactly what was happening. “A puppy!” she gasped as she realized exactly what he had done. There, in her arms was a little brown puppy with the sweetest eyes she had ever seen. She lifted him up to get a better look at him and he licked her cheek, permanently endearing him to her. Had she not fallen in love with him on sight; that did the trick. Watching the pure joy that spread across her face made Terrance’s heart skip a beat and it shook him to his core.
“Yes, I thought you might like to have him around the place,” he stammered, taking a step back from her.
“Oh thank you! He is precious. Thank you so much,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a hug before she even realized what she had done. When she stepped away again, she was blushing deeply.
“It was nothing,” he said as he turned and walked to the barn. Lacy was not at all sure what to think, but she was beginning to feel like she had a husband and not just a business partner and it made her feel more hopeful than she ever had before.
Keeping the puppy close, she went in to the house and gave him some water and some scraps of meat she had been planning to take to the hogs. The thought of having such a sweet animal of her own again made her so happy that she found herself giggling with joy like a school girl.
Chapter 4
A few days later, while Terrance was at the mine, Lacy was sitting outside churning butter when she was a man approaching. She knew in an instant that it was not Terrance by the way that he carried himself, but he was also a tall man with dark hair, though his green eyes had none of the appeal of Terrance’s and t
hey reminded her of the eyes of a snake, cold.
“Howdy mam,” he said, tipping his hat to her. Though it was traditionally a sign of respect, it felt more like a mocking gesture to her. Still, she rose to greet him.
“Hello, what can I do for you sir,” she asked, not letting her guard down.
“Is this Josiah Merchant’s place?” he asked her, his eyes locked on her to read any signs of deception. All she felt, though, was confusion.
“No sir, by husband's name is Terrance Jordan,” she said honestly, but he did not seem to be hearing her.
“I think we are talking about the same man. Want I can't figure out is how he got himself a sweet little wife like you,” he said, looking her up and down as though she was a piece of meat. No man had ever dared to look at her in such a way and it made her skin crawl. Knowing that she was there completely alone with this man, made her want to run in to the house and lock the door. Still, his nature told her that he was a predator. The last thing that you should do when being stalked by a predator was to run so she stood her ground, her eyes locked on his.
“Is there a message you would like me to give him?” she asked boldly.
“You just tell him at I am coming for what is mine,” he said, still leering at her.
“Who should I tell him the message is from?” she asked, eager for him to finish his business and leave.
“Oh he will know. He had a nice little place here and a good life from the looks of it, even a woman of his own. I would hate to take it all away from him, but I will tear it all to the ground if he does not give me what is mine. Do you understand the message?” he asked, looking as though he would gladly have killed her right then had he not needed her to deliver his message.
“Yes, I think I do,” she said, doing her best to keep any sign of fear from her face. She kept her head high and her shoulders square and he nodded at her, as though he was acknowledging the great effort it was taking her to keep her composure.
“I will be seeing you real soon. Don't you worry, those scars don't bother me none,” he sneered, winking at her as he turned and walked away. As soon as he was out of sight, she gathered the puppy up in her arms and went in to the house and locked the door behind her.
That evening, when Terrance returned, he was shocked that their front door was locked when he tried to open it. Lacy heard him try to enter and she ran to the door and threw it open. Without even thinking, she threw herself in to his arms. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her, unsure of what was happening.
“Terry, I am so glad your home,” she whispered.
“What's happened?” he asked, knowing from her expression that something was really wrong.
“A strange man came here and asked about you,” she explained.
“What sort of man?” he asked, though he already knew exactly what was happening. It was the thing that he had feared the most since he found his peace there in the mountains.
“He didn't mean anything good by coming here. He was wearing a gun belt and he had a third tucked in the back of his britches,” she observed, still shaken up by their encounter.
“Did he give you his name?” he asked, his muscles tense as he waited for her answer.
“He said to tell you he would be coming for what's his. He said if I gave you that message, you would know who he was,” she answered, clearly anxious to better understand the danger that they were facing.
“Stay in the house,” he ordered. “I am going to check around and make sure he is gone.”
“Alright,” she said, though she wanted nothing more than for him to stay in the house with her. She hated the thought of him facing off with the hateful man she had met today.
“Do not open that door for any soul accept me, no matter what,” he said sternly.
“Yes, of course,” she said, locking the door behind him as he left.
He was gone for what felt like hours. She just kept waiting for the man to return and break down the door, but no one came. She and the puppy, who she had named Ralph, sat huddled on her bed waiting for Terrance to return. When he finally did, she felt as though she was finally able to breathe again.
“Did you find anything?” she asked as she began to prepare a pot of coffee for him.
“No, everything is clear,” he said, coming to stand behind her in their small kitchen. The closeness of him made her feel safe and she wished she was bold enough to tell him that.
“Are you alright,” she asked, turning to face him.
“Yes, but I am the one who should be asking you that,” he said with a sad smile, raising his hand to gently brush a stray hair from her cheek.
“Who is Josiah Merchant?” she asked, though she was fearful that the question would ruin the sweet moment that they were sharing.
“What did he tell you?” he asked in a quiet voice that was barely above a whisper.
“Nothing besides that my scars didn't bother him,” she said, shivering at the memory.
“I will never let him get close to you again, I promise you that,” he said, literally shaking with rage at the thought of such words being spoken to his sweet wife.
“Who is Josiah Merchant?” she asked again, though she already suspected that she knew the answer.
“I was,” he said honestly.
“What does that mean?” she asked gently, placing her hand upon his. He was so relieved that she did not step away from him or look horrified at his confession that he had been another man before he was her husband.
“When I was a younger man, the bank foreclosed on my family's homestead. I watched it slowly kill my father. My mother outlived him by a few years, trying to make a go of it as a seamstress to put food on our table. My little sister died of scarlet fever when she was just 8 because we could not afford to take her to the doctor. That was the final nail in Momma’s coffin. She had a heart attack a week later. It was not until that happened that I vowed my vengeance on the bank for what happened to my family,” he explained. There was a hardness in his eyes that she had never seen before and she realized that, for the first time, she was seeing Josiah Merchant.
“I am so sorry,” she said, wrapping her arms around him to comfort him. He had never imagined that his sweet, religious wife would ever draw closer to him if she knew the truth of his past. Instead of recoiling, she was embracing him, all of him. He laid his cheek on top of her head and tried to memorize the feeling of her in his arms. She smelled of cinnamon and cloves and he could think of nothing that felt more like home that the feeling of her arms around him.
“I don't want your pity,” he said quietly. “I took my vengeance in blood. I robbed banks in seven states and I rode with the meanest group of outlaws this land has ever seen. I was an angry young man and the only time I felt anything at all was when I felt like I was getting revenge for them. I did not care who I hurt in the process.”
“Oh Terrance,” she said, with nothing but empathy in her eyes. He could not understand how he had gotten lucky enough, what good dead he had done in his life, to allow him to deserve such a wife as her.
“It was all I knew and it was all I cared about,” he continued, suddenly needing to tell her his entire story. For the first time since he lost his family, he wanted someone to really know him and he knew that that person was Lacy. She was his heart now and he needed to keep her safe, no matter the cost.
“What changed?” she asked him, staring gently in to his eyes.
“We were riding off from the law and we rode through the town where our farm was. I rode to it. I knew it was a mistake but I couldn't help myself. I stood there, on the land where I was born and it was like I could feel them all, all my family, telling me I was doing wrong. I knew right then I needed to leave it all behind. I needed to live a good life, an honest one, to honor them. I just kept in riding,” he said, the dreamy look in his eyes telling her that his mind had returned to that moment, reliving his choice to turn his life around.
“Oh my goodness,” she said, tryi
ng to imagine what it would feel like for her to once again be at her family’s homestead after having lost them all. She was not sure how anyone could handle such a thing, but instead of getting angrier at the world he had used that moment to reconnect with his true self.
“I had the money from our last job with me. I thought of using it to buy this place but I couldn't stomach building my new life on blood money but I couldn't give it to the rest of them either. I buried it as soon as I got this place. It's my reminder of the life I left behind. As long as I can keep from touching it, I know I'm doing right by my family,” he said, looking at her meaningfully.
“And that's why he's come,” she said, realizing how real the danger facing them was.
“If one of them is here, he isn't alone,” Terrance explained to her. He trusted her too much to hide anything from her.
“Are we in danger?” she asked him, though she did not look scared. Instead, she looked resolved to defend their life together and he felt even more respect for her than he had thought possible.