The Pursuit

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The Pursuit Page 10

by Elliee Atkinson


  Mark shook his head. “Yeah, I’m gonna get a drink. I feel like a nice bottle of scotch would go down good right now.”

  “You won today! Why you down in the face?”

  “Come in with me and I’ll tell you.”

  Adam nodded. He turned to motion to Alice, who was standing at the door of the hotel where he had just been. She nodded back and went inside the hotel, closing the door behind her. Adam looked at a confused Mark. “I told her we were gonna go have a few drinks. She was just waiting to see if you wanted to.”

  He clapped a hand on Mark’s back as they went in through the swinging doors. They walked up to the bar and sat in the tall stools they normally occupied. Sam was behind the bar. He didn’t have to ask what they wanted. The two men always drank the same thing.

  “I’m lookin' for a shot of scotch or whiskey, Sam,” Mark said. Sam looked at him in surprise.

  “Well, which one ya want, friend?”

  “I’ll take one of both.”

  Sam turned away to prepare the shots, giving a surprised look to Adam.

  “What’s troubling you, Mark? You look pretty upset about something.”

  “I’m not really upset. I’m… I’m mad. What’s wrong with me? What makes the women always come to me and then leave with another man before I’ve had a chance to do something to make them stay…?”

  “Whoa, whoa. What are you talking about?” Adam held up one hand. “Who are you talking about?”

  “I saw Molly leaving with that Luke fella, the one that works on the schoolhouse.”

  Adam frowned. “She left with him?”

  “I guess he’s giving her a ride home.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine. He doesn’t seem like too bad of a character to me. I haven’t heard anything bad about him.”

  “I haven’t either. But he’s taking Molly home and I… I wanted…”

  Adam realized what was going on and lifted his head up. “Oh,” he said. “I see. You want to spend time with Molly.”

  “Yeah, you can say that.”

  “Well, don’t give up yet, Mark. The man just gave her a ride home. You gave her a home to live in. I think you’ve got a better chance than him. And you live right there next to her. He lives in town. I’d say your chances are really good. And I’ll have Alice put in a good word for you.”

  “Do you really think that’s necessary?” Mark picked up one of the shot glasses and tossed the liquor down his throat.

  Adam shook his head. “No, I really don’t. But it never hurts to have more people on your side, right?”

  “Yeah, I reckon so.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  MARK LOSES CONTROL

  MARK LOSES CONTROL

  Mark didn’t know Alice and Adam were worried about him as he stumbled out to his wagon. He didn’t see the look on Sam’s face as he climbed up into the seat, forgetting to untie the horses. He cursed quietly, got back down, untied them and climbed back up.

  He didn’t see Sam come out and watch his wagon as it trundled off down the dirt road toward his house. Sam stood there for a good while, watching the swinging lantern that lit up the road so the horses could see. He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. All over a woman. A woman no one even knew.

  He went back in the Horse N Saddle, ready to close down for the night, thinking about the new arrival. He hadn’t had much time to talk to her but she seemed nice. From all accounts, she was a friendly woman with a good head on her shoulders. Mark was a bachelor. Sam could understand the desire.

  Mark swayed back and forth, his head in a cloud. He struggled to hold his eyes open and was glad the horses knew where they were going. He let the reins go slack and rested his elbows on his knees, hanging his head. Getting drunk never made anything better, but it didn’t hurt him either. He would go back to his house, crawl in to his bed, and pass out. He’d pay for it tomorrow but it was Sunday and he didn’t have to go to church if he didn’t want to.

  This was one night he didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to talk. He wanted to talk to Molly, specifically. He wanted to find out what she liked in this newcomer, Luke. The man wasn’t hard to look at, he supposed. However, he didn’t think Molly was the kind of woman that was concerned with such things.

  He didn’t know Luke well enough to have a solid impression of him. He’d seen him working at the schoolhouse, but Mark’s business was working on desks and things for the interior of the schoolhouse, not the exterior. As a result, he and Luke had not crossed paths for more than a quick hello of recognition.

  He focused on the swinging lantern, watching it move back and forth. It took a moment for him to realize he was allowing his body to sway in time with the lantern. He forced himself to stop and sighed deeply. He could taste the liquor on his breath.

  “Too much,” he mumbled. “Not gonna be able to work tomorrow.”

  He wasn’t too worried. He’d finished up the largest of his projects and had time to spare. He remembered suddenly that the next day was Sunday and jerked in his seat. “Oh yeah!” He laughed at himself. “Gonna sleep all day, that’s what I’m gonna do.”

  He knew he wasn’t going to sleep all day. More than likely, he would wake up with a headache busting through his skull. He shrugged. He would deal with that tomorrow. For now, he was satisfied with rolling down the road toward his bed.

  As he passed the little yellow house, he saw a lantern burning inside. He passed by very slowly, peering in the windows. He didn’t see anyone. He slowed the wagon down and leaned over, closing one eye to see better. He still saw no one in the living room where the lamp was burning.

  He stopped the wagon and sat for a moment, looking in the window of his little house. He wanted to check and make sure everything was all right. She might think it was an invasion of her privacy. However, it was his house. He fought with himself back and forth for a few minutes before getting down and stumbling to the little white fence. He pushed open the gate and went through as quietly as he could. He tried not to drag his feet but they were uncommonly heavy. He held on to the white iron railing to help him go up the two steps. He quietly stumbled across the porch and stopped halfway to the window, trying to stand up straight and gather his thoughts. How would it be if she opened the door and saw him this way? What if Luke was still with her?

  He spun around but Luke’s wagon was not there. He turned back to the window, satisfied, pulled in a deep breath and leaned down to look in. He scanned the room. It looked empty. After another good look, he caught sight of a pair of small shoes hanging off the side of the couch. The back of the couch was to him. The feet belonged to Molly. They were the same black slip-ons she always wore.

  His heart raced. His first thought was that she was hurt. He turned the knob of the door but it was locked. He had a key and struggled to get it in the hole. He held the lantern as close as he could to the hole with one hand and tried to focus by closing one of his eyes. His hand missed the hole a few times before the key slid into the lock and turned it.

  He pushed open the door and went around the couch to see her lying there, only her small feet dangling off one side. Both hands were underneath her head as a pillow and she was lightly snoring. Mark closed his eyes, sighing. She was all right. She was just asleep.

  He stood there for a moment longer, staring at her in the beam of the lantern. Her face glowed in the light. Her lips were formed perfectly. He noticed she had a smile on her face, just a very small one but she was dreaming something pleasant. His heart warmed. He wanted to sit in one of the chairs and watch her while she slept but he was afraid she would wake up and see him staring at her. That would frighten her and she would leave. He was sure of that.

  Feeling guilty, he took a step back toward the door, readying himself to leave her be. He pondered whether he should wake her and tell her to go to her bed. Instead, he leaned over and turned the small lever on her lantern until it was extinguished. He walked slowly back to the door and closed it softly behind him, locki
ng it with his key.

  It was easier to walk back to the wagon than it had been to walk to the house. His anxious fear that Molly was hurt had sobered him somewhat. He got back up in his wagon and turned toward his house, breathing in cool fresh air. It didn’t matter what Luke had done or not done. Mark was throwing his hat into the ring.

  The daylight coming through the front window woke Molly the next morning. She pushed herself up from the couch and shook her head. Several of the pins she used in her hair had come loose. She reached up and pulled them out, one by one. When she had them all clutched in one hand, she shook her head so that her hair swayed all around her head. She reached up with her empty hand and brushed it over the long strands.

  She sat there for a moment, trying to wake up and clear the fog from her brain. Yesterday was a day she would remember for quite some time. The chili cook off was great fun, seeing Mark win was an honor, and being escorted home by Luke brought some drama into her otherwise dull life.

  She thought back to their ride home, how she wanted the entire time to see Mark before she left and feeling guilty that she hadn’t. Luke had tried to be charming and friendly, but she wasn’t paying attention and he often asked if she’d heard what he’d said. She apologized several times for not listening, but she could tell he was a bit frustrated with her by the time he dropped her off.

  He let her off at the end of her walkway, not offering to help her down or to the door. She got down from the wagon and smiled up at him.

  “See you soon. Thank you for the ride.”

  “It was my pleasure, Miss Molly.” Luke picked up his hat and tilted it to her before plopping it back on his head. He clicked his tongue and was turning the wagon around. Before she knew it, he was gone.

  She’d gone inside trying to hide a smile. She had annoyed him. It was bad of her to think it was funny.

  Molly was still smiling about it as she remembered. Her next thought was that she wanted to go shooting. She wondered what Mark was doing on that bright Sunday morning. She got up and pushed off her shoes. She didn’t mind that she’d fallen asleep on the couch. The couch Mark had in the little house was wide and had soft cushions. She wondered who had made it. Whoever it was had to be a genius.

  She went to the kitchen and started a fire in the stove. She filled up a deep pot with water and set it on one of the holes on top of the stove. While it heated the water, she went into her room and chose her clothes for the day. She pulled a brush through her hair and fixed it with the pins she’d taken out earlier. Her hair was long and wavy and required many pins to keep it in place behind her head. Her husband had bought some special cream for her hair that contained herbs for the health of her hair and scents to make it smell good. He’d also brought her several concoctions he’d received from his business partners in India that were supposed to cleanse her hair and keep it looking silky and shiny.

  She pulled out a large luggage trunk and opened it, pulling out the small bottles of perfume and powder makeup. She spread everything out on her bed. She wasn’t a socialite in Wickenburg. There was no society in Wickenburg. Not that there had been much in Allentown. Nevertheless, she had had dinner with the mayor of Allentown more than once and generally consorted with the townspeople who had money. There was no class distinction in Wickenburg. Molly felt no need for all her beauty items.

  She went back out to the kitchen. The water was sufficiently hot enough to bathe in. She took the pot back to the wash room and cleaned off the dust from the day before.

  Once she was cleaned and dressed, she went back to look at all the items she’d spread out on her bed. She would give them to the ladies in town. As random presents, a way to introduce herself. She didn’t have to get rid of everything. But if she needed more, she knew where to find it.

  She made a special pile for Alice. It consisted of several lotions, creams, and shampoos that Molly knew Alice had never seen before. They all came from foreign countries.

  She spread lotion over her arms and legs before pulling on a pair of stockings. Alice’s voice ran through her mind, cautioning her not to wear too many clothes or she might overheat. She pulled the stockings back off and put her bare feet into the small slip on shoes. It felt strange not to wear stockings. She felt naked, even though her dress covered her to her lower calves. She had chosen one of the lightest materials she had.

  “I’m really going to have to get a new wardrobe.” She mumbled to herself as she scanned a long green gown, holding the top with one hand and stretching out the skirt with her other hand. “I’ll never wear this again. Where in heaven’s name would I wear this?”

  She giggled and began to go through the trunk with the clothes in it. It didn’t take long for her to decide she needed Alice’s help. She didn’t know what she should keep and what she should give away.

  Giving up on going through her property, Molly took off the dress she’d been wearing and pulled on a pair of loose britches. She was not used to wearing britches and thought they felt bulky. Her underclothes were stuffed into the pants and poked out in various spots. She tried to smooth it out but they kept popping back up. “Oh, I can’t wear these like this!” She said, frustrated. She wanted to go riding, to go shooting. It looked like she was going to have to wear a dress, which she disliked. No one in Allentown had ever mentioned the fact that she wore riding trousers and wore britches to shoot with her husband and his friends.

  She changed once again, switching out her underclothes for something that would lay flatter against the fabric of the pants. She finally felt ready to go visit Mark. She grabbed her favorite pistol from the top drawer of her dresser and the rifle she kept next to the door. She slung the rifle over her shoulder and put the pistol around her waist in a holster.

  As she stepped out the door and went down the steps, she spotted something shining in the grass next to the bottom step. She leaned over and picked it up. It was a button. It looked like a button from a man’s shirt.

  She studied it for a moment; sure she had not seen in when she came home with Luke the day before. He hadn’t left his wagon when he dropped her off so there was no reason for it to be his.

  She clutched the button in her small hand and set off to cross the field to Mark’s house.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  TARGET PRACTICE WITH MARK

  TARGET PRACTICE WITH MARK

  Molly reached the house just a few minutes later. She walked slowly, enjoying the landscape around the stone house. It was an amazing piece of architecture. She went to the door and lifted her hand to knock.

  “Mark!” She called out, leaning back to look down the length of the house. She didn’t hear anything or see any motion through the front windows. She walked back to the edge of the porch and looked out around the land. Even though it was dry, there were green places all around her. The field she crossed to get here was ankle high with both dried and fresh grass in various spots all throughout.

  The door behind her opened and she turned back to look at Mark, who was peeking through the opening at her with one eye closed. He cleared his throat. “Good morning,” he said.

  She smiled. His hair was pushed up on top of his head like a rooster. She had clearly woke him up.

  “Oh Mark, I didn’t think you would still be asleep. I’m so sorry.”

  He paused for a moment before saying, “It’s Sunday. Usually sleep in. Church optional.”

  Molly couldn’t help giggling. She put one hand over her mouth to hide it and stepped back to the door. “If you want to go shooting later, I am ready.”

  Mark blinked at her. He pulled the door open. “Come in. I’ll get ready.”

  “We don’t have to go now if you aren’t ready to do it. I can see I woke you up. I’m so sorry.”

  He shook his head, pulling his robe around him. He waved her in and closed the door when she stepped past him. “It will only take a minute. I’ll get ready and we can go.”

  “I’ll make some coffee.” Molly could smell the scent of liqu
or on him and wondered what he had gotten himself into the night before. “I can make you some biscuits, too, if you like. I don’t mind.”

  He half-smiled at her. “Make yourself at home, Miss Molly.” He shuffled down the hallway and disappeared behind one of the doors. Molly watched until the door closed. She went to the kitchen and began to make coffee for him. Something to wake him up and give him some energy.

  As soon as he was back in his room, Mark dropped himself onto the bed and sat there for a moment, trying to breathe. The liquor had left him swooning and there were hatchets being whacked on the inside of his skull. He lifted one hand and pressed it against one eye and then the other.

  The coffee would clear his mind. After a few minutes, he could smell it brewing in the air. He stood up and got dressed, running his fingers through his hair after dipping them in the water from the basin. The water was cold and it woke him up with a start. He splashed some on his face and dried himself with the towel next to the basin.

  When he was ready to leave his room, he felt surprisingly refreshed. He noticed as he walked down the short hallway that even his headache had receded. He was anxious to see Molly and to spend the day with her. He wondered if she had spent much time with Luke the day before. He hoped not.

  He pushed the door to go in the kitchen and stopped, watching her move around, preparing a cup of coffee for them both. She stopped and looked at him with a smile.

  “You look good in men’s pants.”

  “These aren’t men’s pants.” She replied as he went to the table and sat. She set a cup of coffee down in front of him. “The fire is almost hot enough to make the biscuits and they’ll only take a few minutes to bake. You should get some food in your stomach. I suspect the only thing you ate yesterday was chili.”

 

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