Long Time Gone

by Mary Connealy

Sadie had a terrible idea.

  Angie knew better than to go along with it. But what else could they do? This trouble dragging on and on was wearing them all down.

  She sat up, rocking in a chair in Chance Boden’s office, near the glowing embers of the fire. Sleep was beyond her.

  All she could think was how many years she’d lived like a coward, keeping silent, always afraid. She’d lived like that most of her life. And she’d promised God she wasn’t going to do that anymore.

  Here was her chance to show a little courage.

  They had to find out what all the strange happenings and talk of revolution meant. And dangerous as it was, Sadie’s plan would work . . . if they lived through it.

  Angie thought of Maria’s sacrificial death to save Justin and knew it was what love truly should be. She prayed for peace, for some certain knowledge that what Sadie had planned was God’s will. Or if not, that God would shut the door firmly in their faces.

  The door swung open. A man’s silhouette showed in the dim light.

  “Can’t sleep?”

  Just as she’d hoped and feared in equal parts. Justin came in and they were together. Alone together.

  He crossed the room and slid over one of the chairs from beside the couch and took a seat beside her. With a sigh he lowered himself into the chair. He was fully dressed. She sat there in her nightgown and robe.

  The room was quiet and peaceful, and she couldn’t bring herself to care about her appearance.

  “Aunt Margaret sent a note out to the ranch today saying Stephanie is working out well as a teacher.” Angie had suggested they let some of the older girls take over the teaching.

  Margaret had given the job to Stephanie, who was only sixteen. She wrote of how impressively the girl handled her classes. There were two other older children, both girls, who might be able to help, too. When the boys reached sixteen, they always left to find work. The girls, if they didn’t marry, stayed a bit longer.

  Now Aunt Margaret spoke with enthusiasm of how this would train the girls for a teaching job elsewhere.

  “Chances are Sister Margaret isn’t even gonna need a teacher again. She can raise her own.” Justin stretched his legs toward the fire and folded his hands in his lap. He rested his head against the chair back, the very image of a relaxed and easygoing man. Which of course Angie knew wasn’t even close to the truth.

  “What’re we gonna do about this, Angie?”

  “I thought the sheriff came with new information. We can—”

  “I’m not talking about the fight we’re in. I know what I’m gonna do about that.”

  “You do?”

  “Yep.”

  “What?”

  “I’m gonna keep after the varmints pesterin’ us. I’m gonna fight and keep fighting. And I’m never gonna let any man steal one single square foot of the Cimarron Ranch.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  “I mean what are we gonna do about the fact that I can’t find myself alone with you without wanting to kiss you? And all I’ve got to offer you is to buy into our fight and risk your life.” Justin hesitated before he went on. “To ask you to consider being part of my life is to invite you into danger. But more than that, it’s a life you’ve never expected. It’s harsh, with hours of hard work, horses you can’t ride, clothes you can’t sew. Burning heat in the summer, with every wild plant and animal trying to bite you or poison you. It’s no life fit for you.”

  His words struck hard. “What you really mean is that I’m not fit for this life.”

  Justin sat up and leaned toward her. “I just think you’ll be unhappy out here. There is nothing of the city, very few comforts.”

  “That’s something Mother would say, something Edward would say.”

  Justin jumped out of his chair. “Don’t you compare me to your mother. I haven’t said a word to tear at you like she did.”

  Angie stood just as fast. “You just did.”

  Justin breathed hard but didn’t speak. His hands flexed as if he was making fists. Then he forced them open, then made fists again. She was quite sure he wouldn’t punch her, so she thought it was his way of fighting for control.

  “However you heard it, what I meant was you wouldn’t be happy here. This is no life for a woman who has worn silk and bonnets, who grew up on paved streets without a single rattlesnake in sight—even if she did it in a home with no love.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She slashed her hand through the air so close to him that Justin flinched. “A home with no love is a terrible place, no matter the comfort. I’d rather sleep on dirt floors and wear one calico dress the rest of my life than have a home without love.”

  Another stretch of silence. “Tell me about your husband.”

  “My mother—”

  “No, last time I asked you about your husband, you talked of your mother. Tell me about Edward.”

  She turned from him and stared into the fire. “What I began to say was Mother picked Edward for me. He was much older and humorless, but he seemed like a decent man and he was rich. To Mother there was no decision to be made. Of course I must marry him. I tired of him as we courted, and when I told Mother I wasn’t interested in marrying him, she informed me our money was gone. She borrowed money against the value of the house for years to survive. But it was all gone. The bank was going to foreclose. She said if I didn’t marry Edward, we’d be out on the streets. The thought scared me witless. I was used to being under her thumb, doing as I was told. I didn’t have the courage to stand up to her. I convinced myself that although Edward wasn’t good, he was good enough.

  “Our marriage happened fast, and for a time poverty was a thing of the past. He lived in a fine house. We had servants and the best clothing. We wanted for nothing. Mother lost the house and came to live with us. When Edward was severe with me, she approved. They formed quite a partnership to run my life.”

  “So neither of them would let you make your own decisions?”

  “Never. Mother died about a year after I married. That’s when I began to think of eternity. I read my Bible and made peace with God. Edward paid little attention to me by then and was gone day and night, yet he wouldn’t let me leave the house—”

  “Wait,” Justin interrupted. “What do you mean he wouldn’t let you leave the house?”

  That caught her attention. “Edward insisted I stay home. He thought the world was too dangerous and I had poor judgment. He accused me of spending too much money. He found fault with my few acquaintances—I wouldn’t really call them friends, but I met them to walk in the park occasionally. Edward made it difficult to do these things, and at the beginning of our marriage I was determined to please him. By the time I got tired of that, there were no acquaintances left to gather with. He had control of all the money, so I didn’t have a dime to spend. His stories about the dangerous world outside our house had made me afraid.”

  “If he was gone day and night, how could he make you do anything?”

  “The servants spied on me and reported to him. While she was alive, my mother reported to him. I left a few times, and he made me very sorry I’d done it.” She paused, shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t want to talk about my tyrant of a husband anymore. He could force me to stay home, but he couldn’t control my heart and mind and soul. I found a way, in my secluded little world, to be a woman of faith. I promised my heavenly Father I would learn courage, grow a sturdy backbone, and stand up to Edward one day. At the time, I imagined insisting I be allowed to attend church. Even that was too much for me to ask.

  “A year after Mother died, Edward was shot and killed in a card game. I only knew about it when the police came to my door. They told me he was a gambler and he’d been living on an inheritance, but it was all gone now. Creditors were there only hours after the police left. Edward had run up bills for all our furniture and clothing. The house itself was rented, and I didn’t even know it. They took everything and forced me out with the black
dress I’d donned on news of Edward’s death.” Angie glanced at Justin. “It was the same black dress I was wearing when I stepped off the train in Skull Gulch. I was cast into the street, the horror Mother had threatened me with before, with no idea how to survive on my own. I knew then the pressure I’d felt to be strong and brave was because God saw that I was going to need every ounce of strength and courage I could find.”

  Justin caught her arm gently and turned her to face him. “What did you do?”

  “I knew no one. After a lifetime living in Omaha, I couldn’t claim a single friend. All the servants had been dismissed, and the wages due them went unpaid, so of course they were hostile. One of the maids said she was going to hunt for work in a factory. I knew she was one of Edward’s most faithful spies, so I expected and got no help from her beyond that factory’s name. I found the factory and got a job—a terrible, dangerous job—then found a place to stay in a rat-infested rooming house.

  “I’d been living there and working fourteen-hour days in that factory for nearly a year when Aunt Margaret’s letter arrived.” She lifted her chin. “I know how to live through hard times. I know how to get my hands dirty and work. I’ve been hot and cold before, Justin.” She poked him hard in the chest. “Don’t you tell me what life I’m fit for. I’ve gone through worse times than you ever have in your big, rich house. And now I find myself spending time with a man who believes I only want finery and ease. A man who is too much like Edward.”

  “Don’t say that.” Anger flashed in his eyes as he pulled her against him. “I’m nothing like him.”

  Angie closed her eyes. From her complete lack of fear of him, she had to admit he was right. “No, you’re not. You wouldn’t hurt me, but you’d take over my whole life because you thought you knew better how to run it than me.”

  “But I do.”

  Angie found herself able to laugh at his manly confusion. She shook her head and didn’t respond.

  “If taking over your whole life is what you call me keeping you safe, well, that’s just a husband’s God-given duty. I want . . .” Justin fell silent and slowly leaned down until his forehead rested against hers. His grip on her arm was more of a caress. “I’m sorry if I sound like Edward. Can you forgive me?”

  And those were words Edward had never once said.

  “Now it’s my turn,” she whispered, “to say I’m sorry. You sound nothing like him.” Without making a decision to do such a thing, Angie kissed him.

  She’d never kissed him before. He’d kissed her and she’d gone along, but she hadn’t started it.

  Justin finally broke off the kiss because he knew he should, then raised his head a few inches. “Let’s talk about you letting me court you, Angie.”

  A log snapped in the fireplace and sent up a shower of sparks that caused her to jump. She stepped away and turned her back to him. “No, Justin. Nothing has changed. I admit I’m drawn to you . . . but I need time. Even if you’re kind and decent, I know myself. I will lean on you. I’ll allow you to be my strength rather than find my own.”

  “Angie, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

  “No, we won’t. I want to go back to the orphanage. Aunt Margaret won’t think it’s right for me to live under the same roof as you, no matter that we have chaperones around.”

  “I’m not letting you go back. So you have to—”

  “Not let me?” She turned to face him. “There you are, dictating to me.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant at all.”

  “What else could you possibly have meant?”

  “What I would have said if you’d let me finished was, I’m not letting you go back to town, so you have to marry me. There’ll be no long courtship, because your aunt would be right. We shouldn’t be staying under the same roof when we have feelings for each other. I think you’re safer out here. I want to kiss you when the spirit moves and not feel like I’m treating you with disrespect. All those things you worry about—riding alone, being improper—are absolutely right until we’re married.”

  He studied her face. Her blue eyes catching the flicker of the firelight. Her blond hair pulled free of whatever had been restraining it before.

  “You honor me with your proposal, Justin, and I think in time we might suit. But I have to say no right now.”

  “So it’s no for now, but you are considering it? And in the meantime, you will stay here and let me protect you?”

  Nodding, Angie replied, “I would love to have your protection, Justin. I understand it’s a new country and right now there’s a special threat that makes it even more dangerous than usual. I will agree to a courtship, but like I said, I need time.”

  Wanting to sway her from her stubborn refusal, he leaned down to kiss her. But she quickly pressed her fingertips against his lips and said, “I’m leaving—before I forget why I should.”

  It hurt that she didn’t care enough about him to see he would let her find her own strength within the marriage. A flash of anger goaded him. She should be eager to marry into the Boden family. It was a long step up for a woman who’d been near starvation not that many weeks ago. He felt the arrogance in his reaction.

  She was right that he had it in him to be a dictator. A kindhearted one, yet that didn’t give her room to test her own strength. And a woman needed strength in the West.

  “I think it’s wise that you go. Good night, Angie.” He couldn’t keep the disappointment out of his voice.

  She rushed out of the room as though she were running away from him, leaving him before the crackling fire—alone.

  24

  The sheriff rode in before breakfast, and Justin’s jaw clenched until he thought he’d crack his teeth. Sheriff Joe wasn’t part of what he saw for the day. He had work to do and a reluctant woman to corral. His day was full.

  “I’ve got men in jail, Justin. I found six of them hombres Ramone mentioned, all of ’em Mexicans. They’re telling some strange stories about a revolution, but they’re a ragtag bunch and not a one has the fire in his eyes that fit with a fighting man. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I think they may know enough to help us find who’s behind all this. I want you and Cole to come in and talk to them. I’d like Rosita there too, because most of ’em don’t speak much American. Rosita can translate your questions and their answers. Let’s see what we can get out of them.”

  Heath was in the next stall, saddling his horse. “I want in, too. I’d like to look them in the eye when we ask if they were part of a plan to use Sadie as bait.”

  “Do we have to do this right now?” Justin heard a little bit of a whining tone in his voice and it shocked him into silence.

  The sheriff, Cole, and Heath all looked at him in alarm, no doubt wondering if he’d lost his wits.

  “I can’t hold these men for long, Justin. I arrested ’em on one man’s word, and even if they are grumblers who wish they could go back to being Mexican, they haven’t broken any laws. A man’s got a right to complain, after all.”

  “Is something wrong?” Cole asked, looking worried.

  Well, Justin wasn’t going to let the men out of jail just because he wanted to convince Angie to marry him. The answers he could get from them could be a matter of life and death. “No. Nuthin’ is wrong—I’ll go get Rosita and we’ll head out.”

  It was still mighty early. Sadie and Rosita were in the kitchen fixing breakfast. There was no sign of Angie. He knew for a fact she’d had a late night. Nor could he see himself explaining things to Sadie.

  “Can you come with us, Rosita? We need to ride to town to question some men the sheriff arrested. Ramone gave us a few names of the ones he overheard talking revolution, but they don’t speak English. We need a translator.”

  Rosita nodded, grabbed a towel, and wiped her hands. She plucked a heavy coat off a peg by the back door and pulled it on with Justin’s help.

  “We don’t know when we’ll be back, Sadie.” Justin wanted to say a whole lot more. “Uh . . . is Angie up?”
>
  “I haven’t seen her, and I wonder why. She’s usually an early riser.”

  Justin let out a sigh. “This might take a while. We’ll probably miss dinner.” With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he admitted the truth. “And if there’s any evidence to follow, it might take all day. So who knows about supper?”

  “Are you all right, Justin?” Sadie asked.

  He ushered Rosita out, then shut the door behind them with unnecessary force.

  Angie woke up happier than she’d ever been in her life.

  She’d said yes to letting Justin court her. He hadn’t liked her hesitation, but he’d agreed, and she felt like maybe, sometime in the future, she’d find the courage to bind her life with a man again.

  She threw off her covers and leapt out of bed. She looked over her three dresses, not a one of them black. She was done with widow’s weeds.

  Aunt Margaret had helped her sew them. Though her aunt always wore the most severe nun’s habit, she had sewn children’s clothes for years, including clothes for mostly grown girls, so she knew her way around a ruffle.

  The dresses were yellow, blue, and pink, each scattered with tiny flowers. Angie had watched Margaret sew. She’d tried to teach Angie the way of it and all with a smile, clearly enjoying working with the pretty material.

  That thought stopped her in her tracks. Into the silent room she whispered to herself, “I should talk with Aunt Margaret about Justin. I could use her wisdom.” Grabbing the blue dress sprinkled with white daisies, she donned her clothes quickly and hurried to the kitchen to see Sadie busy working.

  “How late did I sleep? I’m so sorry. How can I help?” Should she mention that she and Justin were courting, or would he rather announce it? Maybe he had already. Or had he decided to wait until they were together? Or not talk about it at all?

  Sadie was kneading bread. She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “I’m glad you rested well.”

  “Is Justin here?”

  Sadie’s smile turned to a mischievous grin, as if she knew the question was more than idle curiosity. “No, he rode off this morning with Heath, Cole, and Rosita. Heath didn’t know how long they’d be gone, but he said not to worry if they were late for the noon meal and even supper.”