Mail Order Runaway

by Julianna Blake

  “I couldn’t say for sure,” Clay said, “because I only know the Catholic side of things, not how a Protestant minister would answer. But if I had to guess, I’d say that in the eyes of God, the marriage may well be valid. It’s the two getting married who actually make the marriage contract between them and God. The minister is just there to represent God. I know in the Catholic religion, the priest is not the one actually performing the marriage—God is, the priest is just officiating. It’s all in the intention—did you intend to marry the woman in front of you? Does the fact that she used a false name change the fact that you intended to marry her? It’s hard to say, but I think it might be valid, because of your intention, regardless of the name used. If that’s the case, I would imagine it’s similar for other Christian faiths. But your pastor could clarify the situation.”

  “Oh dear, what a mess,” said his wife.

  “As far as the legality of the marriage, I’d say that’s highly questionable.”

  Gideon rubbed his forehead. He had a throbbing headache coming on. He couldn’t seem to think straight. “I can’t believe this is even happening. She’s nothing more than a liar—again.”

  “What do you mean, ‘again’?” asked Madeline.”

  “This isn’t the first time she lied to me. I realized that her cooking and cleaning skills weren’t matching up with what she told me she was capable of, in her letters. She was burning things, couldn’t get the supper on the table on time, couldn’t make a bed right to save her life, ruined clothing in the wash…”

  “Oh, Mr. Cartwright, this is awful. I had no idea you were dealing with such...difficulties. I thought you were both happy.”

  “We were! I thought we had it worked out. I asked her to tell me the truth, and she did—at least I thought she did. She said she had wanted to tell me the truth when she got off the train, but was afraid I’d send her back.” He smacked his head. “That’s what she really meant! I asked her, at first, why she had lied to me in her letters. But I didn’t wait for a response. My pastor—I asked his advice—and he told me to forget my expectations, and look for her admirable qualities. So I didn’t push the question—I wanted to move on, and have a fresh start, without dwelling in the past. I was a fool.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. How could you have known?”

  Gideon laughed bitterly. “Because this isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with someone who was a liar.” He thought of his father—she was no different from him. She decided not to marry the man in Boston, and instead of admitting it to the poor fellow, she ran off—ran away from her problems, just like my good-for-nothing Pa—and tricked me into marrying her! The realization that he’d married a woman exactly like the man he despised began to sink in, and he swayed on his feet.

  Then he heard the sound of horses. He lunged for the door.

  “Stop!” called Madeline. “Get ahold of yourself first. Don’t run out there ready to attack, or you’ll never get the answers you’re looking for.”

  “Answers?” he laughed. “I don’t even care about what lies she’ll tell me. I just want her out of my house!”

  “Please, Gideon. We’re all angry at her. What she did was wrong. But at least give Elinor a chance to explain—”

  “Elinor.” The name sounded foreign on his lips. “I didn’t even know the name of my own wife.”

  Chapter 28

  “I hope Gideon isn’t worried. I didn’t realize how late it was, or I wouldn’t have stayed so long at Constance’s house.”

  Emmett rode alongside her, both of them at a trot. “We should move a little faster—with those dark clouds moving in, it looks like rain for sure, and he will be worried, unless he’s lost track of time in the barn. But don’t worry, he’ll forgive you when he sees that you brought home a basket of goodies from Mrs. Pruett.”

  She laughed. “I’m sure you’re right. I have to say, his assessment that she’s the best baker in Helena valley does seem to be accurate.”

  “You got that right.” He patted his belly. “I’m afraid, dear sister-in-law, you might feel insulted that I won’t be able to have any of the stew you made for supper—I think I had more servings than was polite to take.”

  “I’d say that I will forgive you, but knowing you, you’ll still eat a bowl or two.”

  “Seems like it’s time for me to move on—you’re getting to know me too well. A fella doesn’t like to be predictable!” he laughed.

  As they rode up to the house, Elinor was surprised to see a wagon out front. “That’s the Porters’ wagon,” she said. “I wonder what brought them out?”

  It was a pleasant surprise, and on any other day, Elinor would be glad to hurry in to sit with company. But the letter in her sacque pocket had occupied her thoughts for the whole trip. She really wanted to read it in private, and needed to dispose of the envelope before Gideon saw it.

  “You want me to put up the horses so you can go in and entertain your guests?”

  “That would be kind of you, thanks, Emmett.” Once inside the barn and out of the wind, he tied both horses to a support beam, and helped Elinor down. While he set about taking the saddle off his own horse, Elinor slipped outside and ducked around the corner of the bar, where she was out of sight of the house.

  She eagerly slid the envelope out, tearing it open. There was only one sheet of paper—no reply, then, from her mother—and unfolded it. She began reading its contents with a smile, but the smile soon faded, and Elinor’s mouth gaped, aghast. “No…” she murmured. “No!” She stepped around the corner, spying the Porters’ wagon, and remembered seeing Clay Porter coming out of the post office with a stack of mail. “They already know! Gideon must already know, now, too!”

  Her breath came in short gasps, and a feeling of panic engulfed her. She pressed herself against the side of the barn, feeling as if she was surrounded, trying to think of a way to escape what she knew was coming.

  No, Elinor. No more running. You can’t keep being the one thing Gideon hates. Even if he rejects you, even if he’s furious at you, he deserves to know the truth, and to hear it from your lips. She screwed up her courage and walked toward the house, her feet feeling as if she was wearing boots made of lead. She walked up the steps, holding the basket of baked goods in one hand, the letter in the other, and opened the door.

  Gideon was standing in the middle of the parlor, waiting for her. In his hand was clutched a paper of some kind—the letter, she realized, from Mrs. Gardner. For one absurd moment, they mirrored each other: standing several feet apart from each other, eyes wide, one hand clutching a letter. Some insane part of her wanted to laugh…except instead of a look of fear, his face wore an expression of combined fury, agony, and disgust. She backed up, pushing the door shut behind her, unable to tear her eyes from his. She tried to swallow, so she could speak, but her mouth was dry as dust.

  “Welcome back, Elinor.” His tone was mocking and bitter. “I’d say ‘welcome home’, but this isn’t much of a home, is it? Or much of a marriage either.”

  When she didn’t respond, he held the letter up. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think you’d keep up your charade forever?” He shook the letter. “I found out in a letter—a letter!—that my wife is a complete stranger.”

  “Please, Gideon. I’m not a stranger to you. You know me! Maybe you didn’t the first day we met, but you know me now—”

  “I know you? I don’t know you. The woman I thought I knew, the woman I thought I married, was a gentle, sweet, honest woman named Adelaide. You are not that woman. You are a conniving, manipulative liar!”

  “Please,” she begged, tears tracing a path down her cheeks. “Gideon, let me explain—”

  “Explain what? Explain that you’re a liar? That you’re a selfish, irresponsible little girl who tossed over some poor fool and then hopped a train—at my expense—so you could come out here and fool me into marrying you? How long before you leave me, huh? How long before you tire of your responsibilities he
re, and hop a train in search of the next sap to take you in?”

  “Perhaps we should all sit down and talk through this more calmly,” Madeline said, placing a soothing hand on Grace, who had begun to whimper.

  Elinor fought the urge to flee, and instead, held her ground, ignoring Madeline. “That’s not how it was! You don’t understand, my whole life was controlled by my parents. I had no freedom, no choices! I couldn’t live another day for them—for once, I had to live for myself. And I was going to tell you when—”

  “Oh boy, if that doesn’t sound exactly like my Pa! Blaming others for your problems, and running away from responsibility…explaining away your poor choices. Leaving people behind!” He shook his head in disgust. “You’re no better than him. No better than my drunken, diseased, gambling whoremonger of a father!”

  She gasped, hurt as badly as if she’d been struck across the face, stumbling backward and hitting her back against the door, the letter and the basket falling from her hands. She spun around, yanking open the door, lifting her skirts and running down the steps toward the barn.

  “Oh, you’re running again. There’s a surprise!” she heard him yell out the open door. Then it slammed shut behind her.

  She didn’t stop. She raced into the barn to find Emmett standing by her horse, about to unbuckle the saddle. His own horse was already put up in a stall.

  “Help me mount, please.”

  “Is that Gideon I heard yelling? Is he mad that we’re late?”

  “Help me mount, or I’ll do it myself!”

  “What’s wrong? Adelaide—”

  “I’m not Adelaide!” Elinor pushed his hands away from the saddle, lifted her skirts high above the knees, not caring how it looked, and put her foot into the stirrup. She wrestled herself onto the side saddle, and twisted into place, pulling her skirt down as best she could against the chill.

  “Adelaide, what’s going on? He can’t be that mad.” Then he saw the tears. “Are you alright?”

  She kicked a heel into the horse’s side, and the horse shot out of the barn like the ball from a cannon.

  “Wait!” he yelled, chasing her out of the barn. He called something else, and kept yelling, but she couldn’t hear him—she was already too far, the wind whipping around her face and carrying his words away.

  Chapter 29

  Gideon paced the floor in a fury, his chest heaving. His heart ached from the pain of Adelaide’s—no, Elinor’s—betrayal. Part of him wanted to go after her, to demand an explanation…and part of him wanted to tell the Porters to leave so he could just go to bed.

  “Why don’t I go see how she’s doing?” As Madeline got up awkwardly from the settee, the sound of a horse galloping away caught everyone’s attention. They all looked toward the window, too late to see anything.

  “If that’s Elinor, someone has to go after her,” Clay said. “Those rain clouds had an ominous edge to them when we came in, and if she gets lost, she could end up in a cold, soaking rain.”

  Madeline gasped. “She’s not dressed for that, Clay! She’s only got a sacque for protection. It didn’t look very heavy.”

  “She’s probably just gone to Mrs. Pruett’s,” Gideon muttered. “She knows the way there. It’s less than a mile.” He sighed. “But I’ll go, and make sure she gets there safely. Let them take care of her. After all, that’s all she came here for, right? Someone to take care of her? Didn’t have to be anyone special, just any guy looking for a wife, as long as he wasn’t the guy her parents picked for her.”

  Gideon went out the back door, stopping for his hat and coat on the way. When he got out to the barn, he found Emmett saddling his own horse, moving swiftly.

  “Gideon, I’m going after Adelaide, she just rode out of here like the Devil himself was after her.”

  “Her name isn’t Adelaide. It’s Elinor. And I know…I was going after her,” he said in a resigned tone. “But you can, if you want. No matter to me.”

  “What? What the—? Never mind, there isn’t any time. We need to go now.”

  “There’s no reason to panic, Emmett. She’s just nettled because she finally got caught in all her lies. We’ll find her over at the Pruetts’ place, manipulating them for sympathy.”

  Emmett looked at him like he was mad. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but I don’t think you understand. There are some nasty clouds rolling in. Didn’t you see them? And the temperature is dropping.”

  Icy fear rolled through Gideon as he noticed, for the first time, how cold it had gotten. “How fast?”

  “Fast.”

  Gideon sprang into action. “Saddle up my horse too, we need to find her before the snow starts.” He ran to the barn door, then stopped, looking back. “She’s not dressed for this weather, Emmett.”

  Emmett’s face paled as his eyes fell on the saddlebags near his feet. “Gideon, I’d already taken off her saddlebags when she jumped on the horse and took off. She has nothing with her.”

  Gideon didn’t say a word—he turned and ran for the house.

  When he barged in, the Porters stood up.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Madeline.

  “The temperature’s dropping.”

  She turned and touched her husband’s arm. “Oh, Clay, she’ll freeze!”

  “What can I do?” asked Clay, as he watched Gideon gathering warmer coats for him and Emmett.

  “Get my horses in from the fields and put them in the barn with hay and water. Try to get the sheep in too. And put your own horses in there, as well. By the look of the sky, I don’t think you folks are going anywhere.”

  “Can I do anything?” Madeline asked.

  Striding across the room, Gideon pulled a blanket from a basket in the corner. “I don’t know—keep the fires going. Anything you can think of, in case she comes back cold and wet—you’re a mother, you can probably think of what needs to be done better than I.” He walked to the door with his arms full. “There’s stew on the stove, as well as rolls. Help yourself to anything you like.” He reached for the doorknob, then called over his shoulder. “And pray.”

  By the time Gideon had gotten outside, the snow was already coming down, hard. Fat flakes sailed from the sky. The ground was warmer than the air, so nothing was sticking yet. That could be a good thing—as long as the snowfall stayed light.

  Emmett was leading the horses from the barn, and Gideon went behind him, shutting the barn door tight to keep the cold wind out.

  “I put her saddlebags on Penny, to save time, rather than get yours.” Emmett held the horses still so Gideon could shove the blanket into one of the saddlebags. Inside, he saw Adelaide’s—Elinor’s, he corrected himself—sewing box. His breath caught as an image of his wife intruded…she’d been sitting at her sewing table the night before, checking to make sure she had everything in the sewing box she would need for the sewing circle. She had smiled up at him when he came in from chores, and he’d felt his heart melt at the sight.

  “Gideon?”

  He blinked, and closed the saddlebag, then handed his brother his winter coat, and put his own winter coat over the lighter one he was already wearing. Then he held the reins while Emmett did the same, and both men mounted the horses and galloped down the lane.

  “The snow’s not sticking,” Emmett yelled over the wind.

  “I know. I saw that.” He glanced over at his brother, noting his look of concern. “Is that bad?”

  “Visibility is getting worse, but there’s no snow trail to follow.”

  The statement hung in the air, as its meaning hit Gideon. “But you can track her, right? You hunt all the time up at the claim.”

  Gideon had never had the need to hunt much. They lived in town for many years, and since he’d lived out on his farm, he didn’t need to hunt, because he raised his own animals almost from the start. The only hunting he’d done was tracking mountain lions with his fellow ranch hands, when he worked on that ranch.

  “Yeah, but this is different. When yo
u’re hunting, you have to go slow, so you don’t scare off your quarry. Most of the time, you just hunker down by a game trail and wait for your prey, unless the prey is scarce. This is different. It’s time-sensitive. I don’t have the opportunity to examine the ground, the bushes, or the trees for signs of Adelaide’s passing, which will be harder to do in driving snow. Not to mention, the trees and bushes are few and far between around here, until you get up to the tree line of the hills.” He pointed behind them, at the northern border of Gideon’s land—the part of it that wasn’t fenced in.

  “So you can’t track her?” Gideon raised his voice over the rising wind.

  “I didn’t say that,” Emmett called back. “I’m just saying, it would be easier if there was either better visibility, or tracks in the snow to follow. The ground isn’t hard, since it rained last week, but we came and went by horseback already today, and that confuses things. Our tracks are fresh. The most important thing is that we don’t get lost ourselves…or she doesn’t stand a chance. The only people who know we’re out here are the people visiting you.”

  “Yeah, and Porter is an amiable sort, but he ain’t leaving his pregnant wife alone. Not ’til after the storm passes. If then.”

  “So we’re careful then. We don’t go rushing headlong out into a wall of snow. Got it?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Gideon looked around as they got to the end of the lane, where it met the main road. “She probably headed for the Pruetts. Maybe we should go there first.”

  “You don’t think there’s any chance she went off into the mountains, to be alone, do you? I don’t think she heard my warning when she left, and she disappeared over the rise, so I didn’t see which way she went. If she ain’t from around here, she might not think a little rain would hurt her.”