Always, Clay

by Nan O'Berry

  “Ransom?” Olivia asked.

  “Mrs. Hawkins, I’m so sorry.”

  She gave a brave smile and nodded.

  “I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow,” Levi said.

  “I know, but something important came up. Will you come back to the house with me?”

  Levi’s brow furrowed. “Of course. Mother…” He gestured for her to lead the way.

  “You mean that child rode all the way from the Rawlings ranch?”

  Ransom nodded.

  “Poor lamb,” Olivia cooed. She stepped forward and knelt down beside the sleeping child still clutching the mail packet. Reaching out with her hand, she brushed the hair that had fallen from his brow.

  Stephen opened his eyes. “Ma?”

  Olivia smiled. “No dear, not your mother, Mrs. Hawkins. You’ve ridden all the way to Three Rivers.”

  Stephen sat up and rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand. “I had to finish Denver’s ride.”

  “You did a splendid job, Stephen. You saved the mail packet,” Levi praised him.

  The little boy handed Levi the mochila.

  “Thank you, Stephen.”

  “Yes, sir. Clay says a Pony Express rider always does what is right.”

  “Clay is correct.” Levi smiled.

  “It was right where he said it was…” Stephen yawned. “Beside the road in the bushes.”

  “I’m so glad you found it. Now, Denver’s ride is complete.” Levi smiled.

  “Would you like something to eat?” Olivia inquired.

  Stephen’s head bobbed up and down.

  “Well, come along with me. It’s much too late for you to ride back. How about you stay with the express tonight? Your parents are coming here tomorrow. You can ride back with them.”

  “I’d like that ma’am, very much.”

  Chapter 13

  The day awoke smothered in dull clouds. A perfect day to lay someone to rest. Clay stood at the window, his arm in a sling and waited for William Rawlings to come help him finish dressing.

  “Ah, there you are,” William said coming into the room. “How are you feeling today?”

  “Better,” Clay acknowledged.

  Emma’s father nodded. He walked over and shook out the shirt his wife had left on the dresser. “Come, let me help you.”

  Gently, they eased his arm from the sling and into the sleeve of the shirt.

  “It feels so useless,” Clay griped.

  “It will take several more weeks before it’s completely healed.”

  “I need to talk to you, sir,” Clay continued as William buttoned his shirt.

  “Of course.”

  Clay swallowed. “I’d like to have your permission to ask Emma to marry me.”

  William’s hands slowed. “I can’t say that this is a surprise. I’ve seen the look you give her as she walks by.”

  “I love your daughter,” Clay began.

  “I’m sure you do but why?”

  Clay thought for a moment. “It is hard to put into words. Your daughter completes me. I have been searching for something to call my own for a long time. The Hawkins made me remember what family is all about.” He took a breath. “Emma does that to me. She makes me know that home is where she is. Where I want to be.”

  William finished the last button and walked over to the window. “And what about the express? Will you up and quit?”

  Clay shook his head. “No sir. I can’t leave a job undone. I will finish out my term. I hope that in the fall, Emma and I can be married.” He moved to where William stood. “Your daughter will be loved, sir. She will be worshiped.”

  “Ranching is a hard life, nothing ever goes according to plan,” William reminded him.

  Clay glanced down at his arm. “Point taken.”

  At this, William chuckled. “I hope she says yes, son. For I would love to have you in the family.”

  Clay felt humbled as he nodded his head.

  Dressed in a somber dark jacket borrowed from Drew, Clay and William made their way downstairs to where the rest of the family waited.

  Emma moved to Clay’s side. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

  Clay nodded. “I will be at Denver’s side as he makes his last ride.”

  She nodded.

  “Emma, when we are done today, we must talk. You and I, alone.”

  She stared into his eyes. “Yes, Clay.”

  The door opened and Drew entered. “Wagon’s ready.”

  “Did you put some blankets in for the ride home?” Mrs. Rawlings asked.

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Come along,” William called out. “We can’t stand around here talking.”

  “Yes,” Clay agreed. “I want to get hold of Stephen and give him a good piece of my mind. Then, I want to squeeze him so tight. What a brave boy our son is.”

  “Yes, he is that,” William said as he hugged his wife.

  Emma and Clay exchanged glances. She stepped over to his good arm and slid her hand into his. “I think I know what you want to talk about. If I’m right, the answer is yes.”

  Clay smiled and picked up her hand to kiss the back gently.

  Clay was reminded of the day of the express’s first run when everyone turned out in Three Rivers to see the riders off. The streets were full of folks but the holiday atmosphere was missing. Instead, a deep pall of sadness cast a cloud over the small town. They stopped at the station and Clay eased himself down from the wagon with Drew’s help.

  “Are you sure you don’t want one of us to stay?” Mrs. Rawlings asked.

  Clay shook his head. “The express will be with me.”

  “Take it slow and easy,” Emma whispered.

  Clay nodded and watched as he William Rawlings drove his family onward to the church. He stood for a moment and surveyed the long street. “So much change in such a short time.”

  The door to the station house opened.

  “Clay?” Anna’s soft voice called out.

  He turned. “Hi there little one.”

  She came down the steps to his side. “Ma says for you to come inside.”

  He took a deep breath and nodded.

  Together, they climbed the steps to the porch.

  “Promise me something, Anna?”

  “Sure, Clay, what?”

  “You’ll never wear black again. The color doesn’t become you.”

  “Never,” she agreed.

  Inside, the riders stood solemnly about the wooden box. All the riders were dressed in dark clothing. Someone, probably Mrs. Hawkins had placed Denver’s hat and quirt on top. There was nothing to be said, the pain of losing a brother was all too evident on the faces of each member.

  Clay spied Stephen standing beside Wyeth. Walking over to him, he smiled at the young boy. “Thank you for finding the mail packet.”

  Stephen nodded.

  The door to the office opened and Levi emerged dressed in black, his bible tucked under his arm. For a moment, he stood at the head of the casket. Then reaching out, he took the hat and quirt and gave it to Stephen. “By rights, you should carry this and walk before us. For you have earned the right to be called an Express rider.”

  Stephen stepped forward and took the hat then placed it in both hands.

  “Boys.” Levi nodded his head at the men.

  Stone stepped forward to the right point. Wyeth followed until six riders were in position beside their fallen friend. Stone turned toward the door and the others did the same. Grasping the rope handles, they lifted Denver’s body from the cradle of saw horses and walked in a slow precession out of the door. At the street, they poised and Clay heard Stone whisper one word, “Up.”

  They hoisted the box higher until it rested on their shoulders. With uniformed steps, they moved toward the little church at the other end of the street. Stephen first, then the casket, then Clay. As they passed the shops, people poured onto the sidewalks. Merchants shut their doors. To the left, he spied Ransom and Delia.

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sp; Ransom spoke to his wife. She leaned up and kissed his cheek, then he too, crossed into the street and walked right beside Clay.

  The walk reminded him just how grievous his wound was. He felt glad when Emma showed up at his side and they walked into the church together. Even more relieved, when Ransom and Delia stepped over to join them and sit with the riders.

  Minutes later, the bell in the steeple began to chime.

  Levi rose from his place beside his wife to stand before those gathered. “In times like these, it’s easy to condemn the Lord, but remember, the Lord is a merciful master. Everything he does prepares us for our own day in heaven. Today, we come to bury our good friend, Denver who came to us as a stranger and leaves with our hearts broken because he was part of us, part of our family, and beloved by all.”

  Clay listened to Levi’s words as Emma slid her hand into his.

  After the short sermon, they marched to the cemetery behind the church and lowered him into the ground. Each rider bent down and picked up a handful of the dark Wyoming soil then dropped it onto the coffin.

  “Denver, you were not my child by birthright, but my child because you grew into my heart. Your brothers and sisters will never forget your generosity.” Levi stepped forward and picked up his own handful of dirt. “From the dirt, mankind came and into the dirt our earthly remains are given. Bless you, Denver, for the love you’ve shown. We are by far richer for it.”

  They watched as he slowly let the grains of dirt fall from his palm.

  The dust barely settled over Denver’s grave as Clay walked over and stood. The graveyard was nearly empty now. Someone…most likely Levi, had already erected a wooden cross on which they’d draped his hat and quirt. Clay stood until the mist in his eyes prevented him from seeing.

  “I wish,” he began his voice choked with emotion. “I wish I had taken you with me. Maybe if I had, your laughter would not be all we had to remember.”

  He stared up at the sky and waited for his emotions to level. “We’ll find out who did this, Denver, I promise you.”

  Gravel crunched.

  Clay glanced over his shoulder to see Emma move toward him.

  “I thought I’d find you here.” She slid her hand in his and their fingers intertwined.

  “Darling,” he whispered and leaned over to press a kiss against her brow. “It’s hard to say goodbye.”

  Her head leaned against his shoulder. “He was a good man.”

  Clay nodded. “He should still be with us.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Yes.”

  They stood quietly for a moment, then he spoke, “Emma, this is not the time nor the place I expected to do this. However, if today has taught me anything, it’s that often we cannot choose our time. We must seize what matters the most in our lives. I have spoken with your father.”

  She nodded. “I thought as much. You both were longer than necessary this morning.”

  “Yes.” He hung his head and stared at their hands laced together. “Emma, if you’ll have me, I want nothing more than to be the man at your side every day. To wake you each morning with a kiss, to grow old with you watching our children and our ranch grow.”

  Her smile grew.

  “What I’m asking is, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Emma pressed her other hand to her heart. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she spoke, “I think you already know the answer to that question, Clay. But all the same, yes, Clay Adams, I accept your offer of marriage. There is no better place to awake than in your arms. Your dreams are my dreams, always Clay.”

  Their kiss was gentle a sealing of a bargain between two hearts, two souls, that would forever be intertwined. As they walked back to the station, Ransom and Delia met them at O’Neal’s.

  “I was just coming to find you.” Ransom nodded to Emma. “I wanted to say goodbye, before we headed out to the swing station.”

  Delia gave them a quizzical look. Her hand went to her husband’s arm. “Ransom, something’s changed.” Her eyes widened. “Emma, he’s asked you!”

  Clay watched his beloved blush. “Yes, she has agreed to become my wife.”

  “That is call for celebration, even on a day like today.” Ransom grinned as he pumped Clay’s hand. “Come, let’s go back to the station house, and tell the Hawkins.”

  The two women walked ahead of the men, Ransom lowered his voice as he spoke to Clay, “Seems everyone came to the funeral today but the men from the Pierson line.”

  Clay nodded. “I still can’t believe they would be so low as to shoot Denver.”

  “We may never know who the scoundrel was.”

  Emma and Delia crossed the street toward the station house.

  As Ransom and Clay turned, a man brushed by Clay causing his step to falter.

  “Better watch where you’re going.”

  Reuben Pierson’s voice made Clay’s skin crawl. His eyes turned cold as he looked back at the stage owner.

  “You boys aren’t so big now. People are seeing just how unreliable you are.”

  Ransom stepped behind Clay. “I think it’s time for you to move on, Pierson,” he warned.

  Pierson’s mouth twitched. “Losing a mail packet has to hurt.”

  Clay stiffened. “You’ve got it wrong, Pierson. The mail came through. Denver’s packet wasn’t lost. In fact…” He paused as a rider came whizzing past. “There it goes right there.”

  Pierson’s face darkened with anger.

  “But I tell you what, folks are on to you. You may have people fooled thinking you’re a big man, but no matter how high and mighty you are, you still have to follow the rules of man. You mess with the Express and we’ll bring you down.”

  “Is that a warning?” Pierson sneered.

  “No sir,” Ransom added. “It’s a promise.”

  “Stay out of our way, Pierson,” Captain Merrick glared at him as he stepped up beside the two men. “Run your stage company. Let the Express carry the mail.”

  Turning, Clay caught the eye of Captain Merrick. With a nod, he and Ransom moved toward the station house where the women waited. “If he did do it, Merrick will catch him,” Clay told Ransom.

  “Agreed. Someone has to, before another rider is killed.”

  They turned and watched the stage owner stalk away.

  “Come, we have an announcement to make and I don’t think my soon to be bride can hold it in much longer.” Clay grinned.

  “So, about this wedding,” Ransom began. “When do you expect it to take place?”

  “I’d like for it to be tomorrow. However, I must finish my tenure with the Express. Fall seems to be a good time to wed.”

  “Oh, I imagine it will be.” Ransom laughed. “Think of all that cool weather and cuddling together.”

  Clay shook his head. “You remember when we decided to sign up and Mr. Hawkins thought I would be the bad influence. Have I got something to tell him.”

  Ransom gave a rousing barrel laugh and tossed his arm around his friend’s shoulders as they moved to the station house.

  “Are you ready?” Emma asked as he took her hand.

  “I should ask you that.” Clay smiled.

  “I’ve been waiting for you all my life, Clay. Let’s go tell our friends and family, that another rider is ready to hang up his spurs for the love of a good woman.”

  “Yes, I can’t wait to see who is next.”

  The End

  Epilogue

  My dear Mrs. Hawkins,

  I feel sometimes that I should refer to you as Mother. Without your guidance, I would not be walking down the aisle tomorrow to take the hand of my beloved. You and your husband are wonderful models of what love means. As Emma and I move forward, we will not forget the lessons learned. I am honored to have your husband, Levi, stand beside me as my best man. Once our home has been built, I hope you and your family will come to visit.

  I am forever grateful for the Express teaching me how to do a job to my utmost ability, to face adversity wit
hout fear, and to always keep the goal in mind. I will miss your Sunday dinners and Anna’s teasing.

  I owe you so much. I am proud to be called one of Olivia’s boys.

  Always,

  Clay

  About the Author

  Home is where the heart lies. Or so, Nan O’Berry believes. She grew up on a quiet street in Virginia Beach, Virginia, however her love of horses led her family to purchase a small farm in the Western Tidewater area. She grew up listening to family tales, so it was not surprising that she loves a great story.

  Armed with a Bachelor’s degree in Interdisciplinary Studies from Old Dominion University, she loves sharing heroic stories of cowboys, Texas Rangers, lumberjacks, and just plain, small town folks.

  For More Information about Nan

  oberrynan.wix.com/nanoberryauthor

  oberry_nan@yahoo.com

  Coming Up in the Series

  What will happen in the fall, & winter at the Three Rivers Station?

  Cordell has proven to be a thorn in the side of the other riders, but who else is working against the Express and to what depths are they willing to sink?

  Will Captain Merrick be able to pin Denver’s murder on Reuben Pierson?

  Who is Jake Davidson and what is his connection to Pierson?

  What romance and adventure await our other riders - Wyeth, & Stone?

  Who else will join our men in the express?

  Visit our group for more information!

  Three Rivers Express Series

  Always, Ransom – Book 1

  The Express took men and rode them hard across the West. That adventuring spirit belonged to men full of life, ready for whatever met them on the trail, everything, except for love.

  Ransom McCain was the last man hired to ride for the Three Rivers station, but he was chosen to take the first ride west because he could think on his feet. Tensions are high because there are people determined to make the express fail, and little does Ransom know that he would fall for a woman caught in the crossfire.