Among the Fair Magnolias

by Tamera Alexander

  “Yes. Yes, he was.” Even now, it was hard to remember. To even speak of what had almost happened to her. Longingly, he stared at his mother’s door. He was just two steps away from ending the conversation. From never having to talk about it again.

  Behind him, she sighed. “You know, Son . . . back then, I couldn’t imagine another life. I couldn’t imagine not living each day in Emmitt’s shadow. The War of Northern Aggression had been so painful. So many good men died, including your pa.”

  “I know.” It was hard to acknowledge her pain. Harder to realize that he could now almost understand why she’d put up with so much. She continued, lost in her reminisces. “So much had happened. We were barely scraping by even then.” Lowering her voice to a mere whisper, she said, “What you did shocked me.”

  “What I did upset you. You didn’t care to understand what I did.”

  “No, I didn’t dare to understand what you did. Or what it meant to me.” Looking bleak, she added after a moment’s pause, “Or what it meant for the rest of my life.”

  As much as he wished he could make her feel better, he couldn’t allow her to brush aside days and months and years of hardship and heartache. “You understood. You stood by when he’d abused me for years.”

  “I had no choice. He was my husband. I took vows, Russell. Vows before the Lord.”

  “He did too, Ma.” Even now as a grown man, he cringed to think of the life he’d lived here. It had been so bad.

  Russell stopped himself from saying more. She didn’t need more guilt. And even if it would have made himself feel better, it wouldn’t change a thing.

  Instead, he focused on his actions. “I didn’t have a choice either. If I had let Emmitt Johnson lay one hand on Nora, what would that have made me? What kind of man would I have been?”

  “You were a boy.”

  “I was more than that. I was fifteen.”

  “Fifteen sounds so young now.”

  It sounded like a lifetime ago. “Ma, talking to him wouldn’t have worked. And I had nothing to threaten him with.” Instead, he’d ended so much pain by grabbing his hunting knife.

  Russell had no regrets for what he had done. He couldn’t, because the alternative would have been too awful to bear.

  “Before you leave, I want you to know that I regret saying the things I did to you. As time went by, I realized that I had been under his influence for so long, I had let myself slowly die inside. I should never have sent you away. I am truly sorry, Son.”

  At one time, her words would have felt soothing. He would have clung to them, grasping for hope. But now? All he felt was empty. “It don’t matter anymore.”

  “I suppose not.” After a pause, she spoke again. “Are you going to leave now?” She sounded resigned. Disappointed.

  Suddenly he realized that she didn’t want him to leave. And because he had nowhere else to go, he took the coward’s way out and let her think that he still had ties to this pile of wood and stone and dirt.

  That he still had ties to her.

  “Not yet. I’ll let you know when I do.” Then, because he was no longer able to relive the past for another second, he walked out of the room, stormed down the hall, crossed the shabby kitchen, and threw open the door.

  The blast of hot air on his face felt clean and fresh. He breathed deeply, forcing air into his lungs as he attempted to regain his composure. Doing his best, he inhaled again. Exhaled. Attempted to shove the past back where it belonged.

  “Russell? Is that really you?”

  His eyesight focused. Then he blinked, sure his vision was betraying him all over again.

  Because standing there on the red dirt, wearing a faded gold calico that had seen too many washings and a pair of boots that should have been handed over to the less fortunate several years previously, was Nora.

  His one true love. The reason he’d killed a man.

  And the reason he’d felt empty ever since.

  “Yeah,” he finally replied. “Yeah, Nora, it really is me.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  NORA HUDSON HAD STOPPED BELIEVING IN MIRACLES SEVEN years ago. But the sight in front of her made her wonder if the Lord had seen fit to grant her one beautiful dream at long last. “Russell Champion, as I live and breathe. Look at you.”

  The muscles in his cheek twitched, almost as if it was taking everything he had to reply. “Nora. I could say the same thing about you,” he replied, his voice sounding hoarse and unsteady. Deeper.

  Had he always sounded like that? Or was he feeling just as befuddled as she was? The idea that he might be feeling the same way was as exhilarating as it was curious.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He looked embarrassed. “Reliving old hurts, I guess.”

  She flinched, though she imagined it was no less than she deserved. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

  After meeting her gaze, he averted his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “I’m not disappointed. I didn’t think you would return here. Plus, last I heard, you were part of the Walton Gang. I lost track of you after that.”

  Of course, the moment Nora said that, she wished she could take the words back. He didn’t need to know how many times she’d thought about him over the years. Or, perhaps, that she only thought of him as part of the most notorious gang of thieves west of the Mississippi.

  “I was with Walton for a time.”

  “Are you still?”

  Russell shook his head. A melancholy smile curved his lips. “The gang was broken up by the Rangers. Walton swung. Other men faded off into the distance.” He looked beyond her for a moment before blinking. “That was years ago.”

  “Were you sorry about that?”

  A line formed between his brows. “About what?”

  “The gang disbanding.” Inwardly she groaned. She had no idea what she was talking about. She didn’t even want to be thinking about a terrible outlaw gang, certainly not the fact that Russell had been in it.

  Why was that easier to discuss than their past?

  He blinked. “Nora, I joined the Walton Gang because I had no place else to go. I was alone in the world. Don’t you remember?”

  All she could do was nod. The memory of sending him off would be something she would never forget.

  “I stayed with Walton because once you join, you only leave in a pine box.” He frowned. “Well, unless you’re Scout Proffitt.”

  A dozen questions filled her head. She wanted to know how Russell had survived. What the infamous gunslinger Scout Proffitt was really like. What Russell had done since.

  But all that really mattered, she supposed, was how he came to be standing in front of her. “What brought you back home?”

  “This ain’t my home.”

  “All right. Um, what brought you here after all this time?” Grasping at straws, she said, “Independence Day? We’re gonna have a picnic in the square, just like we used to.”

  “Definitely not that. I didn’t come for a picnic, Nora.”

  Though it shouldn’t, his brusque, unapologetic tone made her wince. “Of course not.”

  Something flashed in his eyes. “What does it matter anyway? It’s not like we’re ever going to need to know each other again.”

  Each word crushed a little bit of her heart. “Ah.”

  “Now, why don’t you go ahead and tell me why you’re here.”

  “Your mother didn’t tell you? I come every day. Help her out.”

  “You are the girl who comes to help?” Russell looked horrified.

  She gave a little bow. “I’m afraid so. Why do you look surprised?”

  “I imagined you would be long gone. Or busy with your own husband and family?”

  Nora noticed that his statement was carefully posed as a question. A minute sense of satisfaction coursed through her. He had thought about her. And he was curious. “I don’t have a family of my own.” Her parents were long gone, and she’d certainly never had the chance to have he
r own family.

  “Why not?”

  He looked so appalled, she almost laughed. Almost. “A couple of reasons.” The main one being that she’d lost the man she always imagined she’d marry the day Russell Champion had left town.

  But instead of letting her comment pass, he strode forward, his eyes skimming her body, concern and what surely had to be pain etched in his features. “Was I too late, Nora?”

  “What? Too late?”

  She braced herself when he ran his hands over her body, actively looking for hurts. It made no sense, given the fact that anything he was looking for would have happened seven years ago.

  She jumped back from his rough exploration. “Russell. Stop.”

  But he didn’t stop. He reached for her shoulders, ran a shaky hand along the collar of her dress as if he was searching for bruises or other malformations that had, of course, faded so long ago.

  Yet she wasn’t afraid. Though it had been a very long time since any man had done more than hold her hand, she wasn’t scared of Russell.

  “You need to stop,” she murmured slowly. “Remember? All that happened years ago.” She attempted to smile. “Look at me, Russell. See? I promise, I’m fine.”

  “Did Emmitt hurt you after all?” His voice was so filled with pain it was almost unbearable to hear. “Nora, did he ruin you? Did everyone find out? Did the dim-witted men in this town forget that no matter what happened, you were still everything?”

  Everything? Her body responded, her breath turning shallow. Just like more than two thousand days hadn’t passed, every inch of her once again became attuned to him.

  And that was why she suddenly found herself leaning toward him, like he was someone who could heal her.

  She caught herself just in time.

  After she got her bearings, she lifted her chin up to his . . . then shook her head. “You weren’t too late.”

  Relief settled in his eyes. “Sure? Nora, are you sure?”

  Unable to help herself, she reached out, curved her fingers around his arm, felt the hard, sinewy muscles of his bicep under the worn cloth. Realizing as she did so that he had grown into himself, just like she had. She was holding a man now. A grown, sinfully handsome, exceptionally strong man.

  “You got there in time,” she said softly. “Russell, if you believe nothing else I ever say, please believe that.” Because he still looked a bit wild-eyed, she repeated herself. “Emmitt never did what you fear. You got there in time.”

  His hand dropped quickly, almost as if her skin had burned his own. “Good.” Then he blinked, met her gaze, and flushed. “I’m sorry. I had no cause to touch you like that.”

  Yes, she had been startled, but she was honest enough with herself to admit the truth. Even on this hard Texas soil that had held little beauty for a very long time. She hadn’t minded. It had been such a long time since anyone had acted like she mattered. “No need to apologize. I’m glad we got the chance to clear that up.”

  “I would have died if you’d been hurt.”

  Nora knew he spoke the truth. He was a man who felt deeply, and a man who had learned to cover up his feelings too. He’d learned to cover them up so no one could hurt him further.

  Seven years ago she’d been drawn to his contradictions as much as the tenderness and attention he’d constantly treated her to. She’d been under the impression that no other man would ever love her as much.

  But of course, no other man had ever set her so on edge. She’d been in a constant state of awareness when he’d been around. Expecting him to either kiss her senseless or make her want more than she should.

  “But I wasn’t hurt.”

  “If your honor was intact, why are you alone?” His eyes flashed. “Or did you marry and your husband passed?”

  “I never married.” She swallowed. “Did you, Russell?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Because you never settled?”

  “No. That’s not the reason.”

  Before she could ask what that reason was, the muscles in his neck relaxed as the lines between his brows eased.

  “I’m surprised no one ever caught your hand, Nora. You’re still lovely.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What happened? Did all the men stay blind?”

  For a time she’d been tainted by what happened. But that hadn’t been the reason she’d stayed alone for so long. For several years she’d been too torn up with guilt about how she’d rejected Russell when he’d come over seeking help just moments after his mother had thrown him out of his house.

  But she’d been so afraid of the blood on his hands, by the fierce anger in his eyes, she’d ended up doing the very same thing. She’d asked him to leave. And then she’d asked him to leave her alone forever.

  “I don’t know if the men were blind or I was,” Nora finally answered. She shrugged. “It hardly matters now.”

  “Why? You’re still young. I mean, it’s not too late to live those dreams.”

  She started to nod, becoming mesmerized just like she used to by his warm, deep-chocolate eyes. Eyes everyone used to joke were wasted on a man.

  Then she remembered Braedon.

  “It hardly matters because I, uh, have a beau now.”

  He froze. Stared hard at her. “You do?”

  She nodded. “His name is Braedon.”

  “Braedon?” His lips twisted, telling her without words that he wasn’t too impressed with the name.

  “Yes. Uh, his name is Braedon Hardy. He’s a gentleman. God-fearing.”

  “I don’t remember him. Is he new?”

  “Yes. Um, well, he lives in town. In the boardinghouse over the diner. He moved here last year.”

  “What’s his story?”

  “His story?”

  “What does he do? Living there in the boardinghouse, I mean.”

  “Oh! Well, he’s a traveling preacher. He, uh, was the third son of a wealthy man. He’s looking for a place to settle.”

  Russell’s eyes narrowed. “How is he wealthy? Is he a Northerner?”

  “No.” She bit back a smile. “He’s from Texas. Near San Antone, I think.” Until that moment she had never really wondered how a Southern gentleman had managed to accumulate or hold on to any wealth. Confederate banknotes were worthless, and well, the Yankees had taken what they could and the carpetbaggers everything else.

  “He must be quite the catch then.”

  “He seems to like me,” she commented. Of course, the moment she said such a thing she ached to take it back. She sounded so full of herself.

  “I’ll look forward to meeting him.”

  “Oh?” Her heart started to pound. “You plan to stay for a while?”

  “I reckon I might stay a little while. Just to be sure, you know.”

  “To be sure about what?” Did she sound as jittery as she felt?

  “To be sure it’s the right time to leave again,” he said cryptically. “I’ll be seeing you, Miss Hudson,” he said formally before turning into the barn.

  His words sounded like a promise. Or maybe a threat.

  Both filled her with a restless impatience and the smallest amount of dread. Something had happened between them.

  And just like all those years ago?

  She wasn’t quite sure what it all meant.

  With her mind still filled with questions, she walked into the house and prepared herself to see his mother. No doubt Corrine was at the end of her rope.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “HOW WAS CORRINE TODAY, NORA?” JOLENE, HER GREAT-AUNT, asked over her shoulder from her spot at the stove.

  If Nora had had her way, she would have slipped inside her house without her great-aunt noticing. That way she could have spent the next couple of hours coming to terms with the fact that Russell Champion was back in her life.

  But she’d learned long ago that it wasn’t always possible to get what one wanted. Therefore she tried her best to control the shaking in her hands and temper the tremor i
n her voice. “Mrs. Johnson is about the same,” she finally said. “About the same as yesterday.”

  Healthwise, that had been true. Unfortunately, in every other way Mrs. Johnson had been a bundle of nerves and nearly inconsolable. If Nora hadn’t seen the same pain burning so brightly in Russell’s eyes, she would have been tempted to march out to the barn and give him a piece of her mind.

  But that meeting with Russell had showed that even after all this time, he was holding as much pain in his heart as Nora and his mother. It was obvious he’d learned to hide it. She couldn’t help but wonder what it had cost him though. His life hadn’t been easy after leaving the Iron Rail Ranch.

  Realizing that Jolene was awaiting a better report, Nora added, “I only stayed about an hour with Mrs. Johnson today.”

  Her aunt turned around. “Nora, your voice sounds off. And you look troubled. Are you sure she was doing all right?” Truly, it was as if her grandmother’s younger sister had a sixth sense that allowed her to discern any changes in Nora’s mood or appearance within mere seconds of being in the same room.

  More softly, she added, “Don’t forget, dear, Doc says Corrine isn’t going to make a recovery. It’s only a matter of time before she goes to heaven. You can’t take on her failing health as your burden.”

  She couldn’t talk about Corrine’s impending death. It was too much to deal with after seeing Russell again.

  After considering the idea of keeping Russell’s appearance a secret, Nora elected to go ahead and tell her aunt. No doubt everyone in town was going to learn about it sooner or later anyway. “Actually, there was something new . . .”

  Aunt Jolene’s eyes lit up. “What?”

  “Russell was there.”

  She blinked, visibly attempting to place the name. “Hey, now. Wasn’t he the boy you were seeing years ago?”

  “Yes.”

  As usual, her aunt had a gift for understatement. Everyone knew that Nora had loved Russell, that Russell had killed his stepfather, and that he’d run off and eventually joined an outlaw gang.

  Before her parents had perished from scarlet fever, they’d given thanks every single night that he’d hightailed it out of Broken Arrow.