by Nathan Adams
“Maybe I could join you?” she tried again. He seemed surprised.
“Wouldn’t a city girl like you hate the smell? And the flies? Wouldn’t your shoes get all muddy?” He didn’t appear to say this to be mean, but she didn’t feel like he was saying it to be nice, either. What was his problem?
“Oh, all right then,” she managed to utter.
“Yeah, see ya at lunch time.” He threw on his hat and, in a rush, left the house.
Lucy couldn’t understand it. Why on earth would he agree to marry her if he obviously didn’t feel anything for her—or worse yet resented her, disliked her, felt uneasy about her. Whichever one it was, it was obvious that the two of them simply weren’t meant to be.
Then why did her stupid heart skip a beat every time he was in the room? Why was she so eager to meet him in the parlor last night, when she heard his unmistakable footsteps? And now, why would she keep pushing on when he apparently wanted to be left alone and do his work? Why, why, a hundred times why?
But there was no answer to Lucy’s a hundred whys. There were only questions and her silly little heart that couldn’t understand logic.
Then again, she wouldn’t give up that easily. She had a quick breakfast, and after putting on some clothes that she didn’t mind getting dirty and muddy, she headed toward the stables. She didn’t know exactly what she’d tell Quentin once she got there—maybe that she wanted to help or keep him company? What could he possibly have against that?
Yes, exactly. To keep him company. That’s a good excuse, she thought to herself as she placed her hand on the stable door in an effort to push inward. It was heavier than she thought. She had to force it, and in doing so, she slammed it open to the inside.
“What in God’s green earth … ” Quentin yelled from the inside. “Toby, close that darn door. Breeze will run out!”
Without even going into the barn, Lucy was met by Toby’s sorrowful face, letting her know that this wasn’t a good time to do whatever she wanted to do there.
“Sorry, Miss, the boss says to close the door.” He disappeared inside, apologetically locking the barn door behind him.
Feeling a sudden urge to cry, Lucy took a deep breath and tried to prevent the waterfalls from spilling over. She turned around and headed back toward the house. She could find something to do there, something to occupy her mind while she tried to forget this disgraceful attempt at getting close to the man she was bound to share her entire life with.
Wandering through the big house that she felt would never be a home to her, she noticed that the doors to Quentin’s room were left ajar. Normally she wouldn’t dream of entering someone’s room without permission, but she wanted to get to know him so bad. She wanted to understand why he was so offish with her, why he simply wouldn’t admit that he either liked or disliked her so they could get this whole charade over and done with.
Perhaps his room would hide something, a key that could unlock his thoughts for her. She promised that she wouldn’t rummage. She’d only touch things that were in plain sight. No rummaging through closets or drawers. That’d be too much, especially under the circumstances.
Checking one more time for any unfamiliar sounds, Lucy let herself into Quentin’s room and silently thanked Betsy for leaving it open after one of her laundry rounds. His room was surprisingly like her own. There was little to indicate that a man occupied it. It was neat and clean, without too much stuff lying recklessly around for her to take a peek at.
All of a sudden, there was a stroke of good luck. Peeking from beneath his bed was a little wooden box. It wasn’t covered, so Lucy felt comfortable enough to pull it from underneath and, provided it had no lock, actually open it. Luckily for her it had just a simple cover, making it a dream come true. She took a deep breath, and just in case, listened for sounds coming from the hallway. All was quiet.
With shaky fingers, she removed the wooden lid. The inside was filled with nothing but papers of all colors and shapes neatly stacked on top of one another. She dug inside and pulled a red one from the middle of the pile. Upon seizing it, she noticed that it wasn’t simply a piece of paper. It was an envelope. It wasn’t heavy, but it appeared to hold something inside, something other than a card or a sheet of paper.
Unexpectedly, she heard noises coming from the stairs. Dropping the red envelope back inside, she quickly placed the lid back onto the box and pushed it back under the bed. The steps kept moving closer and closer. They seemed to be headed toward Quentin’s room.
Not knowing what to do but not wanting to be caught snooping through someone’s things, she hid behind the door, hoping that if someone entered the room, they wouldn’t see her there. The steps slowed down right in front of the room and then stopped. It was as if this someone was thinking whether or not to enter. Changing his or her mind, whoever it was went back the same way.
Once there was silence yet again, Lucy was able to breathe. Making sure that everything was left the way she had found it upon entering, she exited the room, only to find Quentin’s scornful look, reproaching her.
“What were you doing in my room?” He appeared angry, and with good reason. She knew that whatever happened from this point on, she had only herself to blame.
“I’m sorry, Quentin. I know it’s rude to go snooping through other people’s rooms, but I was wondering if perhaps there was a small mirror in your bathroom. You see, mine broke and I needed …”
“You should have asked Betsy about that. She would have given you one immediately,” he replied coolly, looking at her and at the door to his room.
“Oh, of course!” She tried not to appear balled up. “I knew that. And that’s what I wanted to do in the first place, but I didn’t find her anywhere around the house. And I needed that mirror straightaway.”
“And did you take it from my bathroom?” he asked.
She realized that it was obvious to him that he had caught her in a lie. He was just playing a game with her, trying to see how far she would push it. Of course there was no mirror in her hand. She didn’t even know if he had one in his bathroom.
Perhaps, she should just come clear about everything.
“Quentin,” she started, “I don’t know how to tell you this.” She started stuttering. “I … I didn’t go into your room for a mirror.”
She expected he’d comment, but he was as silent as a stone.
“I went in because I thought I could find out something about you, something that would tell me why you’re treating me this way … ”
He interrupted her, “And you couldn’t have asked me this? You had to sneak around behind my back, like a common criminal?”
She was startled by both his tone and manner of address, but she didn’t let it show. “Well, what do you expect when you give me the cold shoulder every time I try to talk to you or do something with you?” she said equally passionately.
He just stared at her.
“What do you want me to do?” She took a breath and calmed down. “Do you even want me here?”
He was still as numb as a second ago, just looking at her with his piercing eyes.
“Well?” She felt helpless, like a little child begging for answers, from an all-knowing force that was playing with her emotions.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” she gushed, releasing a flow of tears.
Without a word of comment, criticism or consolation, he turned his back to her and went straight out of the house.
For Lucy, it took her a while to calm her nerves, and it was only thanks to Betsy’s tea and biscuits.
“There, there, child,” She held Lucy in her arms. “Men are strange things, not like us at all. We’re reasonable. We know how things are done. Them’s a weird sort, but we gotta live with ’em.” As she caressed Lucy’s hair, she felt the girl’s body relax.
“But why is he so cruel to me?” Lucy asked, even though she knew that Betsy couldn’t answer that. Or could she?
Betsy appeared confused, not knowing what to s
ay at first.
“Remember me telling ya somethin’ bad happened to him in the past?” Lucy nodded. “Well, he ain’t ready yet to talk to you about that.” She smiled. “But give it time, child. Just give it time, and he’ll come ’round. They always do. In the meantime, be here. Be present. Let him see you here, feel your presence, and he’ll come ’round for sure.”
Lucy felt comforted, just like with her mother. Once again she was grateful for this caring, enigmatic lady who had all the answers but couldn’t reveal them to her. Somehow, Lucy respected her even more for that.
“More tea, dear?” Betsy smiled, and Lucy nodded in agreement. That sounded like just the ticket!
Once cozied up in bed, Lucy couldn’t fall asleep. She knew where Quentin was again. He would return late, exhausted, silent, moody. What he would be like the following morning no one could tell. And she, she would love him even more. As every day passed by, her heart grew fuller and fonder of him. All she wanted to do was to understand, to help, to love and be loved in return.
Chapter Four
Lucy knew that by the time she woke up the following morning Quentin would already be out and about, just so he didn’t have to face her after yesterday’s fiasco. Thinking that a walk might do her some good in helping her clear her mind, she decided to walk into town and get to know the area.
It was a lovely day with an unusually warm breeze, and Lucy thought it was the perfect opportunity to get some fresh air and get away from all her troubles with Quentin. As it turned out, other townsfolk shared her enthusiasm about being outside, and as a result, the streets were packed to the brim. Local vendors were out selling their products, the general store was teeming with life and Lucy thought it’d be a good idea to see what they had to offer.
Upon entering, she noticed that this particular store doubled as a post office as well, so Lucy bought a few letters and stamps thinking they might come in handy later. There were many people inside, and not all of them were there to buy goods but to socialize with other townspeople. She could feel the warmth of the atmosphere inside and wanted to be a part of it. She was used to visiting dark and gloomy general stores, but this one was different. Its large display window allowed enough light inside that shined on stacks and stacks of boxes, crates and shelves.
In the corner, there was a coffee grinder and scales next to a whole assortment of coffee beans, spices, flour and other kitchen necessities. She considered buying some things but in the end opted against it as she’d have to hire a carriage home, and additional baggage would cost extra. She did buy a lovely pink ribbon, some buttons for her dresses and silk thread.
“Would that be all, Miss?” a pleasant old man at the cash register asked.
“Yes, thank you,” she replied.
“Pardon my intrusion, but I haven’t seen you around these parts here, Miss. Are you new to the town?” he inquired. She noticed several other men around them stopped talking to hear her answer.
“Yes, I’ve just moved into town.” She didn’t wish to reveal too much regarding her circumstances, seeing it was a small town. Word would get out eventually, whether she wanted it or not, so why rush it?
She paid for her goods, bid them all a lovely day and went back outside. To her left, a little puppy was wagging its tail and seemed pleased to see her.
“Well, aren’t you a peachy little thing!” She bent down to give him a rub behind his ears. “Whose are you? Who left you out here all by your lonesome?” She looked around, but no one seemed to be paying attention to either of them. She decided to return to the store and ask.
“Excuse me.” She opened the door and tried to be louder than the chatter taking place inside. “Does this little puppy here belong to any of you?” she asked.
“Nah, he just appeared a few days ago and doesn’t seem to wanna go away,” the store owner replied. “I feed him, but he ain’t mine.”
“So, he has no owner?” she asked again, this time hopeful.
“I reckon not.”
“Well, may I take him home with me then?” The thought suddenly occurred to her, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
“By all means, Miss. That’ll sure make him mighty happy!”
“Thank you so much.” She waved goodbye and rushed outside.
The puppy was still there, as if waiting for her.
“Well, little guy, you’re coming home with me. What do you say to that?” She petted him again.
The puppy barked in agreement, and when she started walking, it immediately followed. She hired a coach immediately and was home soon afterwards. Carrying the puppy in her arms, she stumbled across Quentin outside the barn. She approached him happily.
“Hi!” She waved, gleefully, hoping that every new conversation was a possible opening.
“Uh-uh,” he replied disinterestedly, though the sight of the puppy in her arms did catch his attention. He seemed to be taking a break from work.
“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting you, but I have this little guy here, and I was hoping I could keep him?” she asked like a little girl waiting for approval.
“Yeah, I reckon you can. We ain’t got no dog here anyhow, so why not?” His reply seemed good-natured enough, though he didn’t show any excitement. Not that she expected him to.
“I still haven’t named him. Do you have any suggestions?” She tried to engage him in conversation, hoping she caught him in a good mood.
“Nah, you do it. Got enough on my mind without having to name your dog.”
Your dog. That’s what he said. He doesn’t care about anything I do, she thought. The thought almost made her cry, but then she looked at the little puppy nestled in her arms, and the crying feeling vanished. All that was left was warmth and love for this little thing here.
“Well, OK then. I’ll name him, get him settled and come help you later on, if you need my help, of course.” She was still trying.
“Nope, no help needed. Got Toby, and Betsy, too, if necessary. We’re fine. You just head on back to the house and do … well, whatever it is that you do.” He didn’t mean for it to sound rude, but it did.
“Well, all right then.” She took a few steps backward before finally turning around. One small teardrop fell. She couldn’t control it.
She realized after a while that the puppy still didn’t have a house of its own, so it had to sleep in her room for the time being. But she wanted him to be an outside dog that could roam free and enjoy life without any chains, orders or commands.
The afternoon passed playfully, and since she had arrived to this house, it was the first time she actually felt happy, like there was someone who was truly glad she was there.
“You know what,” she spoke to her new friend that evening as they were getting ready to go to sleep, “I’ll give him one last chance.” The puppy looked at her wonderingly. “I have a plan.” She winked at him. “And for it to work, we have to go to sleep now.” With that thought, she blew out the candle, leaving them both in the darkness but with hearts full of happiness.
The following morning she woke up earlier than anyone else, made breakfast for everyone and went straight to the stables. She knew this would be the first place Quentin would try to escape to, and she figured if she was there before him, she could show him her determination to take part in his activities and even help, if he needed her to.
Shortly afterwards, Quentin appeared. He was shocked to find her there waiting for him.
“What are you doin’ here, Lucy?” he asked, astonished.
“Waiting for you.” She smiled.
“For me?”
“Yup. You probably don’t know, but I also like horses. Maybe not as much as you, but I do. And I do know much about them, so I can be of help to you, if only you stop being too stubborn and let me in—just a little. What do you say?” She looked adorable, standing there like that, with her heart on her sleeve.
“Grab that bucket over there and follow me,” he answered, entering the stable first
. “But no shenanigans!” He yelled jokingly.
To her surprise, the entire morning passed by in full cooperation. He kept telling her what he wanted her to do, and in return, she did her best to obey. At lunchtime, they even managed to have a pleasant chit chat about this and that, and Lucy thought to herself that finally she had started to break through his shell.
That was until he informed her that she wouldn’t be helping him in the afternoon as well.
“Somethin’ you can’t help with, so you might as well do whatever you want the rest of the day,” he told her.
Not wanting to push her luck, she agreed, though she didn’t like it one bit. So she spent the afternoon with her new little friend, introducing him to the world of the ranch, which was almost as new as her as it was to him. Together we’ll make it work, she thought to herself, as she petted him behind the ears.
Sometime before dusk she could hear hammering from behind the barn. Not knowing why she’d be curious about such a thing, she allowed her inquisitiveness to lead her. With her puppy right at her feet, she walked toward the barn, only to find Quentin working on what appeared to be a little wooden construction. It was only half done, so she couldn’t really figure out what it was. When the hammering stopped, he turned around to find her looking at him.
“I guess the jig is up,” he smiled sincerely.
“What are you up to?” she asked. He pointed at her puppy. It was then that it hit her. “A house for him?” She couldn’t believe her eyes. Was he really building a house for her puppy? After all that’s happened?
“Yeah, I reckon I haven’t been treatin’ you very nicely. Thought this might make up for it—a little.” He kept smiling as he spoke.
Lucy still couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. Was this the same man who had been avoiding her for days? Who hadn’t shown any interest whatsoever in whatever it was she showed him or tried to tell him? Could it really be so? She felt like pinching herself just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
“I’m sure you had your own reasons,” she added carefully. Maybe now he would reveal his secret, the secret that Betsy told her about. But it wasn’t the right moment. Quentin simply shook his head and continued on hammering.