Heart pumping, Elizabeth dug out the bobbins of colored thread, pin cushion, a doily, two books of poetry, a small silken pouch, and decorative hair pins. The items were soon spread across the table, the box emptied. No purses of gold and silver, or banknotes. Nothing.
She dropped into a chair as her chest constricted, choking her heart.
No.
Now what? If she couldn’t find the money, she’d be stuck in this place—worse off than the sewing factory and drafty apartment in New York.
Then she thought of Axel’s warm bed, his cooking…and his kiss. Not quite worse off. Except she was supposed to hate him and her life here was a deception.
No. She jerked to her feet, her hands dancing over the contents of the box. There had to be something besides memorabilia. Keepsakes from Lar’s dead wife. That’s all this was. Elizabeth’s breath came in short gasps.
No!
There had to be something. She craned her neck, bringing her head up to search the cabin with her eyes. Where hadn’t she looked? She’d hunted everywhere. Even the barn. Every nook and cranny. Nothing. Had they buried it? That seemed the only option left, which meant she’d never find it. Not in a thousand years unless they told her where it was. But how likely was that? How could she ask without drawing suspicion?
“Curse you, Forsbergs!” She gave the basin across from her an angry shove, and it toppled over the edge of the table with a crash as tin dishes collided. Water rushed across the floor, puddling in places, and soaking into others. “I hate you.”
Elizabeth moaned, sinking back into the chair. “And I hate myself for coming here. For thinking I was clever.”
What a fool she’d turned out to be. She just wanted to leave this place. To go home. Except she didn’t really have one of those anymore.
Elizabeth reached out and toyed with the silk pouch. A beautiful rosy color but too small to hold much of anything. Still, she’d look to be sure. She loosened the ribbon cinching the opening and shook the pouch over her palm. A ring and a brooch tumbled from their cocoon.
The brooch was a lovely emerald arrangement set in silver. Certainly worth enough to get where she needed to, but it paled beside the ring. A large, deep blue gem encircled by elegant etching of silver and placement of diamonds. Even exquisite didn’t seem sufficient a word. No doubt Axel’s mother had also left this behind. The ring now represented a new life for Elizabeth, far away from Axel and his father. Only…taking a ring, an heirloom most likely, seemed closer to stealing than taking money she already considered stolen. Elizabeth hooked the tip of her finger through the band, strength slipping away. How weary she was of all this. She just wanted the ordeal, the lies, and the pretense to be over.
What other choice had she but to take the ring?
Elizabeth glanced to the shelf and the tin of matches. Then stood. Her hands trembled as she gathered everything back into the box then set the broken pieces of lid on top. Hopefully, buried deep in the trunk, Lars would not notice anything amiss until she was far from here.
***
Axel propped the saddle against the wall and hooked the bridle on a peg. A yawn watered his eyes as he turned from the barn and started to the house. Well past midnight, his muscles ached and his body begged for sleep. His thoughts hazed, his mind already succumbing to exhaustion. Even still, he paused at the well to wash up a little, something he wouldn’t have bothered with before he shared a bed, before it mattered if the bedding smelled like horse.
Inside the cabin, Pa had a lamp lit, and it cast a light across the clean floor. Very clean. Eliza had kept busy today. A good sign she was adjusting to this wilderness and making herself at home. Some of the tension building over the past week eased from his shoulders. Eliza had seemed detached from everything since she’d come, as if a tangible barrier stood between her and calling this place home. On the surface, she’d helped around the cabin, and spent a lot of time with her little mare, but her eyes—though deep enough to draw him in every time he looked at her—remained distant. And a little sad. Axel nodded toward Pa and turned into his own bedroom.
Another yawn stretched his mouth as he crawled between the covers after undressing. He wiped his hand down his face. Eliza shifted beside him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
She didn’t face him but turned her head slightly. “For what?”
“Waking you.”
Her head shook. “I wasn’t asleep yet.”
Axel pushed up on an elbow. Had she waited up for him…or was she simply not at ease alone in the cabin? Could he hope that maybe she’d worried for him? A little? He resisted the need to wrap her in his arms. He’d settle for a quick kiss to her temple. For now.
As always, she stiffened at his touch.
He laid back down. “Good night.”
No reply. Maybe he would get used to her silence someday.
He closed his eyes and pressed his hands over them. Time. He had to give her time. The woman who wrote those letters was buried in there somewhere. There were moments he saw glimpses of humor, and even warmth.
“Eliza?”
“What?”
“Would you consider riding with me tomorrow? I could show you more of the ranch. Desert Lady needs exercise, and Stitches would probably enjoy the companionship.” As would he. If only he could be certain she felt the same.
Silence filled the room. He could almost hear the minutes tick away in his head. It felt as though any hope of a happy future with her hung on her reply.
“All right.”
He released his breath and settled into his pillow.
Chapter 8
Elizabeth sat up and glanced to Axel’s still form. Only moments after his last words, he became like a log beside her, completely unconscious to the world. Strange how familiar she’d already become with his breathing. Even stranger to see him lying there, completely unaware and defenseless. How was it her enemy could tug at her heart?
She hurried to collect Axel’s boots and the envelope of documents she’d found in the trunk—the mockery of Father’s devastation—then fled the room. Elizabeth refused to think about Axel tonight. At all. His exhaustion would only aid her. She focused her thoughts on Lars instead, his Sunday services about love and healing—flowery words burning like salt on her open wounds. She hated him all the more for them. The tin of matches waited for her on the shelf.
The quarter moon gave just enough light to make her way across the yard before she plunged into the darkness of the barn. Elizabeth pushed the door open wide to allow for some sight. She needed to make sure the building was empty. Only one of the stalls was being used, and she hurried to release the horse, chasing the animal outside. Then turned back and glanced around. All sat silent in shadow. Empty but for the stack of hay near the back and the tack for the wagon and horses near the front.
That was a problem.
How was she going to leave if all the saddles and bridles burned too? She made a pile of them a ways from the door. Then returned inside with the papers and matches. She struck the match on the box then held the flame to the corner on the envelope. She pictured Mother’s last days, still hearing the cough that ripped apart her lungs. The feeling of complete helplessness. Both would always haunt her. As would the image of Mother lying motionless, face bereft of any color or life.
“I just wish I could bring you back.”
Elizabeth dropped the flame onto the stack of hay and made her retreat. She ran the distance to the cabin, the large boots chaffing her legs. Kicking them off at the door, she glanced behind. The whole interior seemed to glow and the horses in the nearest corral began to whinny. She had to get back in bed before they woke the Forsbergs.
Heart beating a steady clip, Elizabeth sprinted on her bare toes across the large room and into the one she shared with Axel. She set his boots back in place and slipped beneath his mother’s quilt. He gave a soft moan as he rolled. And draped his arm over her. Elizabeth clamped her teeth and tried not to move, to pretend to sle
ep. She could very well imagine what they might do to her if they knew what she’d done.
Axel’s breath warmed her neck as his chest slowed its movements. He’d fallen back asleep. Or maybe he’d never really woken up. That would explain the arm. Axel had done well at keeping his word to let her dictate the timing of their relationship. Other than that single kiss, he’d been very much a gentleman. Kind. Considerate. And she’d just lit his barn on fire.
Elizabeth released a moan of her own. What if Axel had nothing to do with his father’s theft? What if he didn’t even know about it? Would she destroy him to get even with Lars? Was there any other way?
No.
Still, the weight of his arm over her laid heavy. Like her guilt.
A minute later, Elizabeth couldn’t let herself stay silent while everything burned. Maybe he would be able to save something, or at least make sure the horses and the rest of the ranch stayed safe.
“Axel?”
His arm tightened around her and he sighed.
“Axel, wake up.” She rotated to him and gave him a shake.
***
Axel fought the grogginess, opening his eyes to the dim outline of Eliza. A slight glow lit the window. Was it dawn already?
“The horses, Axel. Listen. I think something is scaring the horses.”
The franticness of her tone jerked him awake and he sat up. Anxious whinnies pulled him the rest of the way to his feet and he yanked on his pants, boots, and raced into the front yard, arriving about the same time as Pa. Flames lapped at the walls of the barn.
“Who…?” Axel couldn’t say any more as the muscles in his jaw tightened. Who could it be but the Coopers?
Pa tugged him from his anger. “The front part still looks sturdy enough. If we hurry, we might be able to save something.”
Axel ran with him, stumbling over a saddle in the middle of the yard. A whole heap of tack and other equipment. But why on earth…?
No time. He passed by and plunged into the furnace that had been their barn. He grabbed an armful of tools from inside the door and retreated. The night appeared twice as dark after facing the brilliance of the flames, but he emptied his load with the pile of saddles and bridles, and turned back.
Pa caught his sleeve. “Don’t worry about more. It’s getting too dangerous. Let’s move the horses to the farthest corral and away from the heat.”
With a nod Axel followed, but not before glancing to where Eliza stood in her nightgown and bare feet at the front of the cabin. The blaze consuming the barn illuminated the horror on her face. His chest constricted over his winded lungs. This was the sort of thing to scare a woman like her away, make her want to leave, and he’d hardly be able to blame her. He might even encourage it. The need to protect her washed over him with overwhelming force. First the missing horse. Now the barn. What next? Would he be able to keep her safe?
Anger and fear mingled in an unfamiliar way as he helped with the anxious horses. A loud moan drowned out the roar of the flames, and a gust of searing air blew across the yard. The roof gave way and crashed inwards. Axel’s stomach churned at the thought of how many hours, and how much labor, had been put into felling each tree and splitting each log. Not to mention the cost of nails and hinges. And all he could do was stand back and watch it be reduced to a pile of rubble.
Axel looked back to the cabin, but Eliza had already gone back inside. He found her in their bed, quilt tucked around her, but eyes open and staring. He sat beside her and braced her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
Her head gave a little shake.
“Eliza…” Axel blew out his breath, ready to buckle on his revolver and pay a visit to the Coopers. Why did this have to happen now, with his bride barely off the stagecoach? He toed off his boots and laid down beside her. He opened his arms. “Come here.”
“Axel, no.” She started to turn away.
“It’s all right.” He drew her to him and held on as her body shivered. “We’ll find out who did this.” And heaven help that man.
After Eliza relaxed and appeared to be resting, Axel slipped away and back outside. Dawn lit the east and stretched its rays across the valley. Pa hauled the tack and tools they’d saved to the side of the cabin.
“Why would someone remove the saddles before lighting it on fire?” The one thing that didn’t make any sense to Axel.
“Maybe the fire was an accident?”
“What? You think the Cooper boys were fooling around and didn’t mean to light it?” A part of Axel wanted them guilty of more than just trespassing.
“We don’t know that the Coopers are responsible.”
Axel wanted to laugh out loud. “Who else could it have been? We haven’t had trouble with anyone else in the area.”
Pa glanced to the door of the cabin and then to the vestiges of the barn, a smoldering heap. “Let’s not rush in to any confrontations until we’re sure. I looked around already and I didn’t see any extra tracks in the area, but hopefully the smoke will bring Luke down so he can search as well.”
“And if it is the Coopers?” Axel tapped his hand to his leg. No matter what Pa said, he wasn’t going up there unarmed.
***
“Eliza?”
Her whole body tensed as she glanced to Lars. “Yes?” She kept her hands busy with the dishes, rinsing dinner from them.
“Don’t let the fire bother you. I think Axel is afraid it will scare you away, but I think you’re a stronger woman than that.”
A spec of roast clung to a fork, and she added more force to her scrubbing. Something in his voice knotted her shoulders. As though he suspected... “Thank you.”
“Axel is becoming quite fond of you.” His tone softened, becoming almost a plea. “I suspect he might be falling in love.”
Love? Instead of feeling flattered, or elated that she was so successful at her revenge, Elizabeth’s insides twisted. Her motions slowed as the tender feelings of her childhood infatuation with Axel squeezed her heart.
She’d been caught in her own web.
Chapter 9
Two days later, Axel grinned as he encouraged Desert Lady forward. She lengthened her stride, tearing dry sod. She raced across the meadow as smooth as the breeze on his face. The past week had only landed him on his rear once as he worked with her, gaining her trust and giving her more in return. He still braced himself for the chance she might startle or decide to help him disembark, but no longer believed she was out to break every last bone in his body.
As he reached the stand of trees bordering the grassland, Axel slowed Lady’s gait and glanced behind at the other female who had become a part of his life. Eliza. Her gray mare loped past the cluster of cattle at the edge of the stream, following his course. He appreciated the moment to watch her. And to remember what it had felt like to kiss her that once. Unfortunately, the memory dimmed with each passing day. As she rode toward him, the sun on her face, he wanted nothing more than to remind himself of the taste and feel of her lips. If only she would let him. But where she’d been withdrawn before the fire, the two days since had pulled her further from him. The only time she let him near was for that brief moment when they retired for the night and he touched her arm to press a kiss to her temple. After that, he’d rolled over and tried to sleep. An increasingly difficult task with her so close.
How long would it take to win her trust, as well?
Maybe out here, away from the reminders of the fire.
Eliza’s breath came in bursts as she pulled her horse alongside his. “I thought I’d lost you. Lady should be racing instead of herding cows.”
“Perhaps, but I think she’ll prefer it up here. Neither of us were meant for the city or gawking crowds.”
She nudged Stitches past and into the woods. Axel followed. Most of the trees were pine or cypress, but the few others showed the approach of autumn. Yellow blended with shades of green. They followed the stream, still flowing steady despite July and August giving less rain than most years.
&
nbsp; “What about you?” Axel asked as he caught up. “Do you like it here? I know how different it is from New York.”
“It is that.”
“And? You don’t want to go back, do you?” The thought of her leaving tromped over him like stampeding cows. He’d seen it happen time and time again. A man came out west with his wife, or sent for a woman when he got settled, and after a while the loneliness and wildness of the area became too much for her. The missing horse, the fire. Another incident like that might drive Eliza away, and that would make him angrier with the Coopers than the loss of the barn.
Silence. Maybe he needed to find out what else, besides the Coopers, he was up against.
“What do you miss the most?” he asked.
She glanced to him. “When I left New York I had little to call my own, never mind miss. But if I looked back further…music. I used to love the piano.” Her gaze dropped to her fingers draped over the saddle horn, the leather rein woven between. “I probably wouldn’t even remember how to play anymore.”
One more loss she’d endured. “You said in your letters that your parents had both died. Do you have any other kin back East?”
“No.”
“How young were you when they passed?” It was strange to think of her as an orphan, but she’d never volunteered any information about her childhood.
“I was fourteen when my mother died. She’d been ill for months.”
Axel had been eighteen by the time sickness took his own mother. How much more the loss would have affected a young girl?
“Seventeen when Father followed.”
“And you’ve been on your own since.” He reached out and patted Stitches’ rump, recalling what Eliza had said about the sewing factory.
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