by Craig, Emma
Because the horse and buggy were traveling at a steady clip and she didn’t want to breathe in all the dust the horse’s hooves was kicking up, she stepped up onto the wooden boardwalk to watch it pass. She retrieved her handkerchief from her pocket, and held it over her nose and mouth. She’d never understood why pictures of western men invariably showed them wearing bandannas until she came to Rio Hondo, but she did now. Any man brave enough to ride a horse in the middle of a herd of cows needed something to pull up over his nose and mouth, or he’d choke to death on the dust.
Good heavens, there was a young woman in that buggy! Joy wondered if she was another one of Elijah Perry’s old flames. But no, this woman looked respectable. The man driving the buggy seemed vaguely familiar to Joy. After mulling it over for a moment, she decided it was either Mr. Partridge or Mr. O’Fannin. Probably Mr. Partridge, since Mr. O’Fannin would want to be home with his wife and newborn son. He, unlike some men Joy could mention, evidently cherished the women in his life. Woman in his life. It was only men like Elijah Perry, the rat, who had more than one of them.
Having been taught from the cradle not to be snoopy, Joy decided, as long as she was in a rebellious mood, she aimed to pry. She might as well take advantage of this daring spirit while it was in her. For all she knew, she’d suffer another attack of her mother’s voice and lose heart again. Besides, how often did a new female come to Rio Hondo?
Twice, today.
Her heart gave an enormous pang, and she snorted, furious with herself for having her feelings hurt because Elijah Perry had a lady friend. Not that the female back there on Joy’s bed in the wagon yard bore much resemblance to any lady Joy’d ever seen before. Ha! If that was a lady, Joy was a hussy. Anyway, Elijah probably had any number of females in his life. He was, she reminded herself, a rambler, a gambler, and a no-good wandering rogue, and she’d best never forget it.
Feeling not much better for having cleared up that point in her mind, Joy walked quickly to where the buggy had come to a stop, right in front of the wagon-yard gates. Mr. Partridge, if that was he, got out of the buggy, walked around to the other side, and assisted the woman to alight. A gentleman, he. Joy approved.
The woman was young. Younger than Joy, by the looks of her, and she appeared bewildered.
Emboldened by the startling events of her day, Joy walked up to the pair, as fearless as anyone. The man turned and watched her approach, his face expressionless. Joy stuck her nose in the air, refusing to be daunted by a man, any man, even one as remote and cold-looking as this one. She ignored him completely and strode up to the woman, holding her hand out and smiling in what she hoped was a friendly manner. She had very little experience with being bold—or friendly—and she didn’t want to make a botch of it.
“Welcome to Rio Hondo. You look a little lost. May I help you?”
“Oh, thank you.”
Taller than Joy by a good four or five inches, the young woman had a brilliant smile. When she smiled, she reminded Joy of someone, but she couldn’t come up with a name to go with the impression. The woman took Joy’s hand gladly and shook it with enthusiasm.
“Mr. Partridge here was kind enough to bring me to town.” The newcomer glanced around uncertainly, and added, “Such as it is. This is Rio Hondo, isn’t it?”
Joy laughed. “Indeed it is. Rio Hondo isn’t much to look at, I fear.”
“Er, no.” The young woman blushed. “Not that I mean to disparage it in any way.”
“Of course not.”
“Oh, dear. I always say the most awful things. It’s because I speak before I think, you know.”
“I wish I did that,” Joy said, meaning it sincerely.
“You do?” The young woman eyed her in some surprise.
“Yes, I do. My name is Joy Hardesty, Miss—”
“Oh!” The young woman clapped her hands in delight. “You’re exactly the person I came here to find!”
“I am?” Joy was so startled, her voice squeaked. This couldn’t possibly be the emissary from Mr. Thrash.
“Oh, yes! I owe you so much. I’m Virginia Gladstone!”
Joy went numb with wonder. For several seconds she was unable to do more than gawk at the woman to whom she’d written about Elijah’s accident.
The man who’d brought the newcomer into town saved her the necessity of speaking. He cleared his throat. “Well, Miss Gladstone, if you’ve found the party you need, maybe I should get on home again.”
“Oh, yes.” Virginia Gladstone turned to Mr. Partridge and shook his hand. “Thank you ever so much, Mr. Partridge. And please convey my regards to Mrs. Partridge and your beautiful children.”
Joy watched with interest as Mr. Partridge’s hard, cold eyes went soft and warm at the mention of his wife and children. She considered it remarkable that a happy family life could have such an effect on a man. She’d never known a happy family in her whole life. The realization came as yet another blow in a day filled with them.
“You’re welcome, Miss Gladstone. Don’t hesitate to have Mac send for us if you need a place to stay or anything.”
“Thank you very much.”
After he’d unloaded Virginia’s carpetbag, Noah Partridge tipped his hat, climbed back into his buggy, and took off for home. Joy watched him go, a small ache in her heart, wondering if a man would ever be so eager to get back home to her. She doubted it.
“His wife is such a kind, lovely person,” Virginia said, dragging Joy’s attention from the retreating buggy.
“Is she? I’ve never met her.”
“Oh, yes. She quite took me under her wing. And their two children are really beautiful.”
“How nice of her.”
“Yes, she was awfully kind to me. To tell you the truth, I didn’t know exactly what to do once I got to Santa Fe.”
“Yes, I can imagine.” Joy wondered how Mac was going to accommodate yet another stray female. The men who stayed overnight at the wagon yard generally camped outside, but Joy didn’t believe such an arrangement would be appropriate for Miss Gladstone, who seemed very much a city girl. Well, that wasn’t her problem. She’d be happy to have Virginia sleep in her room, but they’d have to dislodge Elijah’s other woman friend first. Joy sniffed.
“May I help you with your bag?”
“Oh, no, thank you. I can carry it if you’ll show me where to go. Are . . . er . . . are there any hotels here in town?” Virginia glanced around doubtfully.
Joy laughed, discovering she didn’t have to force it. “I’m afraid not. Your uncle has been talking about building one, but there are no such accommodations yet, I fear. Don’t worry, though. Mr. McMurdo will be happy to put you up.”
“Thank you.”
Joy had felt dreadfully out of place when she’d first arrived in Rio Hondo, even though she’d headed west expecting to endure hardships. She could tell, both from Virginia’s expression of trepidation and from her traveling costume, which was much more fashionable than anything Joy’d seen on a woman in the territory, that Virginia hadn’t been prepared for the frontier. The young woman’s concern engendered a surge of protectiveness in Joy.
“This is so kind of you. Fancy you walking up to us that way. I must tell you that I was becoming somewhat frightened. This trip to the territory was, well, rather impulsive on my part.”
Impulsivity was something else about which Joy had no knowledge. It sounded nice, though. “I’m awfully glad you came.”
“My mother and father thought I was insane,” Virginia admitted with a little laugh. “And I have to admit, when I arrived in Santa Fe, I feared they might be right.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Joy said feelingly. She well remembered her anxiety the same way when Mr. Thrash’s band of missionaries had arrived in Santa Fe. Joy thought she’d never seen an uglier, dustier place. That was before they’d made their way to Rio Hondo. She almost laughed at the thought. “I trust you aren’t so discouraged any longer.”
“Not anymore. Between you
and the Partridges, I do believe I’ve never encountered kinder, more generous people.”
“Where did you meet Mrs. Partridge?”
“Well, you know, it was the strangest thing. After I received your letter, I decided to come out and meet Uncle Elijah for myself. I figured that if he was laid up, he couldn’t escape before I had a chance to thank him for his kindness to me over the years.”
Joy did laugh at that. “No, he hasn’t escaped yet.” She’d bet anything—if she were ever to do so sinful a thing as bet—that he was going to wish he had, however, if he didn’t already.
“I’m so glad!”
Joy wished she was glad as well, but gladness didn’t precisely describe the emotions churning within her at the moment. Although, it must be admitted, she was looking forward to the meeting between Elijah Perry and the niece he’d been avoiding for more than a dozen years.
Perhaps she was glad. In fact, she decided defiantly, she was glad she’d written to Virginia Gladstone. Not only did Virginia seem to be a very nice person, but Joy took satisfaction in knowing she wasn’t the only one who was going to be forced to deal with the unplanned surprises of life. Let Elijah Perry stew some, too.
Besides, Joy had written to Virginia from the noblest of motives. If Elijah didn’t like it, he could lump it. She straightened, feeling smug.
Virginia continued, “Anyway, I was in Santa Fe, you see, wondering what to do, and just happened to meet Mrs. Partridge by accident. She and her husband drove me all the way from Santa Fe to Rio Hondo in their wagon. It took days to get here, but it was quite a treat to be able to chat with someone. I’d begun to question the advisability of my trip out here, you see.”
“It was a brave thing to do,” Joy observed, admiring Virginia’s resolute spirit. Joy herself had never set out to accomplish anything, really. When she’d joined Mr. Thrash’s missionaries in Boston, she’d been, in truth, running away from home. She thought Virginia’s adventure was ever so much more exciting than her own had been.
“Oh, dear, I hope I did the right thing.”
The worried timber in Virginia’s voice melted Joy’s heart. She took Virginia’s arm, taking comfort in giving the other woman a measure of her own strength, such as it was. “I’m sure you did the right thing. I do believe it’s past time Mr. Perry came to grips with his life.” Heaven only knew, he’d forced her to come to grips with hers. Turn about being fair play, it was his chance now. Joy was going to watch with relish as he did it, too.
As they approached the mercantile, Elijah stepped out onto the porch and caught sight of them. Joy’s chest went tight. She didn’t know if it was with apprehension, grief, vindictiveness, or a combination of all three.
She muttered, “Brace yourself, Miss Gladstone. You’re about to meet your uncle.”
“Is that him?” Virginia sounded breathless with fear or excitement. Probably both, Joy decided.
She was beginning to feel a pinch of consternation herself. She’d forgotten how intimidating a figure Elijah Perry could be if one didn’t know him. Or even if one did. Nevertheless, she did not flinch. Rather, she marched Virginia Gladstone right up the porch steps and drew her to a halt before Elijah, whose brow had furrowed in puzzlement.
He didn’t even know this was his niece! Joy considered such a state of affairs deplorable. She released Virginia’s arm and folded her hands primly in front of her.
In a voice as demure as a nun’s, she announced, “Miss Gladstone, it is my great pleasure to introduce you to your uncle, Mr. Elijah Perry.”
Elijah’s mouth fell open.
Virginia gasped and dropped her carpetbag. “Uncle Elijah!”
“Virginia?”
Until that second, Joy didn’t know Elijah could sound so unsure of himself. She stepped back a pace in order to give these long-lost relatives an opportunity to do whatever it was they aimed to do. Elijah, she noted with interest, didn’t seem inclined to do anything at all but stand there as if he’d been turned to stone.
Virginia, on the other hand, whooped, “Uncle Elijah!” and threw herself onto his chest. Joy tilted her head to one side and wondered for a moment if Elijah was so shocked he was going to tumble over backwards or if he was going to recover his composure.
He did neither, but that was only because Virginia propelled him into the wall behind him. He staggered backward, and felt much as he had when the first of those four bullets had struck him. Shocked didn’t half describe the state of his mind.
How the hell did you find me? his brain shrieked. Fortunately, he was too dazed to utter the question aloud. His arms closed around Virginia automatically, and only because they’d learned a long time ago to do that with women who flung themselves at him.
“Virginia,” he whispered through lips that were as dry and gritty as sandpaper. This was Virginia. His niece. His sister’s daughter. Virginia. The one he’d been writing to ever since he left home a million years ago. The one he didn’t want to know for fear he’d learn that she’d become a ridiculous bitch like all the others of her sex. Over Virginia’s head, Elijah caught sight of Joy. Like almost all the others of her sex.
He’d seen a picture of the Mona Lisa once or twice. The painting had a smile exactly like the one now decorating Joy’s face. Enigmatic. Faintly amused. Unmerciful.
Virginia tore herself away from him as precipitately as she’d thrown herself at him. Snatching a handkerchief from her sleeve, she blew her nose with a vigor one didn’t generally encounter in proper young ladies.
“Yes, Uncle Elijah. It’s I! Virginia!”
Her voice was shaky, but Elijah clearly detected elation in it. Was she happy to meet him? Elijah Perry? The despair of his family?
“I’m so happy to meet you at last!”
Son of a bitch, she was. Elijah opened his mouth. Nothing emerged.
Virginia didn’t seem to notice. “And wasn’t it kind of Miss Hardesty to write and tell me about your horrible accident, Uncle Elijah? I might never have been able to meet you in person if she hadn’t!”
Elijah snapped to attention. Joy! Joy was the author of this debacle! He shot her another glance, but her expression hadn’t changed an iota. She still wore the Mona-Lisa smile that Elijah couldn’t decipher. Before he could react to this latest disclosure, Virginia attacked him again. Again he bumped against the wall. He realized both bumps had jarred his wounded arm, and it hurt. He said “Ow,” halfheartedly. Virginia didn’t seem to notice.
“Oh, I’ve been wanting to know you forever, Uncle Elijah! Mother said you were always so kind to me when I was a baby. She wanted me to know you better, but you never came home after the war, she said. She said your parents were so awful to you!”
“She did?” Elijah tried to remember what his sister looked like, and was unsuccessful in drawing her image to his mind’s eye.
“Oh, yes! And I’ve been wanting to know you for so long! I’ve longed to make up for the meanness of Grandmother and Grandfather Perry, and to bring you back into the family! They’re both dead, you know.”
They were? Dead? His parents? Elijah tried to assimilate the information, but it sat there in his brain, as dead as his parents, and refused to be assimilated.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! Of course, you didn’t want to learn about their demise in this way.” Virginia stepped away from him once more and brushed tears from her cheeks. “I’m such a dimwit! I always blurt out the wrong thing. I’m so sorry!”
Elijah heard a noise and eyed Joy again. Except for having compressed her lips—Elijah suspected she was trying not to laugh at him—she looked much the same.
“Ah, no. No, that’s fine. It’s not the wrong thing at all.”
“You must be very sad, though, and I should have broken the news to you in a more gentle and dignified way. I fear I’m not dignified at all, Uncle Elijah. In fact, my mother says I’m just like you. She usually laughs when she says it, because she was ever so fond of you, you know. I hope you don’t mind.”
Just like h
im? And his sister was fond of him? His head awhirl, Elijah didn’t know what to mind or not mind. Nor did he know what to say.
Stepping into the breach at last, Joy murmured, “I’m sure your uncle is quite happy to know his parents are deceased, Miss Gladstone.” She sniffed, and if Elijah hadn’t already divined the truth by the cattiness of her statement, he’d have known by the sniff that she was still mad as hell at him.
Virginia blinked, confused.
“I’m not either glad to know it,” Elijah lied.
Joy gave him another one of her patented sniffs.
A swarm of sparkles suddenly filled the air around them. Elijah shut his eyes against them and knew without looking that Mac had just joined them.
Chapter Seventeen
Later on that evening, Elijah, Joy, Virginia, and Mac sat at Mac’s small kitchen table, dining on stew and cornbread. Virginia and Joy drank apple cider. Mac and Elijah took beer.
Virginia looked with some confusion at her uncle, her big blue eyes wide. “You mean, that woman truly is a friend of yours, Uncle Elijah?”
She was, of course, referring to Mary Ellen Loveless, who had stormed out of Mac’s store not long before. It had taken a good deal of persuasion on Elijah’s part to get her to do so, but Mary Ellen had at last been persuaded to give up Joy’s bed. She had originally wanted to stay and berate him for the rest of the year. At least that’s what it had felt like to him. It had been embarrassing, too, since he knew his niece could hear every word Mary Ellen screeched at him. And Joy. Joy heard them too.
Elijah didn’t really blame Mary Ellen. It was his fault he’d never explained his true feelings for her. He really did like her. But he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with her, the way she evidently wanted to spend the rest of hers with him. He felt honestly wretched about having hurt her feelings. He felt even more wretched about having to explain Mary Ellen to Virginia. And to Joy.