The last house she passed gave her pause. As she approached the small neatly kept house with the white picket fence, she sat up in the saddle. Even from a bit of a distance, she saw Joe's grandmother in her rocking chair, her vivid shawl catching the light of the sun as it peeked through the storm clouds. Her heart ached to tell Mrs. Stanton what had happened. Her blood coursed through her veins, and her ears rushed with the words Joe's mother had spoken.
Her heart skipped a beat as Mrs. Stanton stood. Olivia pulled up on the reins of the horse as Mrs. Stanton smiled at her and flagged her down. Surely she should stop for a moment.
Dust billowed around her, and she stifled a cough as she pulled the horse to a stop in front of the white picket fence. Mrs. Stanton pulled her shawl around her and hurried down the steps of the broad porch, lemonade on the table.
"Olivia, darling, where are you off to in such a hurry?” Mrs. Stanton asked as she reached down to open the gate. Olivia hopped down from the horse, running her hand along its mane as she looked down at her dirty boots.
She ran the leather lead through the ring on the post at the side of the gate. She brushed the dark hair that fell into her face aside with the back of her hand as she walked over to Mrs. Stanton. "I'm on my way to the ranch, Mrs. Stanton. It seems that all the inventory Pa and I put together was stolen. Somebody tried to sell it to Suzanne at the mercantile.”
Mrs. Stanton gasped, holding the back of her hand to her mouth. Her eyebrows rose as she looked back toward town. "I wish I could say that the scoundrels didn't surprise me anymore after all these years. I've seen some pretty rotten things in my day, but stealing a girl’s life's work is...well, rotten.” She crossed over to Olivia and drew her into her arms. "Is there anything that I can do to help, my dear?"
Olivia hung her head. She wanted dearly to tell this kind woman what had happened with her mother-in-law. Her heart ached at the words the younger Mrs. Stanton had thrown at her. But there was nothing that anyone could do. There was no reason to share her burden with this kind old woman.
She looked up into Mrs. Stanton’s comforting brown eyes. Joe favored his grandmother, the same kindness resonating in his eyes as Olivia now saw in Mrs. Stanton’s. She didn't want to hurt either one of them, and it was best just to be on her way.
"It certainly is a dirty deed," Olivia said as she looked out toward the ranch. The storm clouds parted and the sun beat down on the two of them. Olivia lifted her hand to shade her eyes as she looked toward the ranch. Mrs. Stanton's house was one of the last on the outskirts of Tombstone, and when she got back on the horse she’d be out in the open range. She looked to the saddlebags on the horse, and her eyes grew wide as she realized she’d left her gun at the blacksmith shop. She should have asked Suzanne for one, but there was no way she could turn back now. Dust rose on the horizon, and she spotted several horses and riders in the distance. But she had to go ahead, no matter what danger was in store for her.
She turned back to Mrs. Stanton and nodded. "Well, I best be on my way. I need to see if I can find out what happened to Percy, too."
Olivia reached for the lead and pulled the leather through the ring on the post. She stopped as Mrs. Stanton rested her hand on her arm, slowly pulling her around. “Olivia, why isn’t Joe with you?” Mrs. Stanton asked softly.
Olivia hesitated, her heart bursting with pain. Her breath hitched as she looked up once again into Mrs. Stanton’s kind eyes.
“Mrs. Stanton, Joe...Joe is better off without me. Look at all this mess I’ve got at the ranch. And the shop...it’s his life, and ...” Olivia couldn’t bear the concern in Joe’s grandmother’s eyes and looked down at her dirty boots.
The older woman reached up and brushed a tear from Olivia’s cheek. She cupped Olivia’s chin and lifted her face up to meet her gaze.
“Something’s happened, hasn’t it? Is it his mother? Has she interfered?”
Olivia turned away and looked toward the horizon, toward the ranch. “Mrs. Stanton, there’s nothing to be done. Joe is better off without me. I’ll be on my way.”
She gave Mrs. Stanton a weak smile and mounted the horse. She tied her bonnet more tightly under her chin as Mrs. Stanton rested her hand on her knee.
“Olivia, I’ve never seen Joe this happy. Not since his father died, certainly, and now that you’ve come along, he’s got that old spring in his step again. His smile has returned, my dear, and it’s because of you,” she said slowly. “He loves you, and I’d venture to guess that you feel the same about him.”
Olivia’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest. Did Joe actually love her? She’d hoped so, but after what she’d heard today it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. If he stayed with her, he’d lose his shop and his family.
“Mrs. Stanton, it’s for the best. Joe has his life and I have mine. It was all a big mistake.”
“Darling...” Mrs. Stanton started, but Olivia flicked the reins and tapped her heels against the horse, spurring it toward the ranch. And her future.
Chapter 35
"Where could she be?" Joe asked of no one as he paced in front of the blacksmith window. He'd rushed back from his mother's house as quickly as he could to tell Olivia the good news. He’d never felt more alive, certainly since his father had died, and he couldn't wait to tell her that they would have a future on their own, without his mother in it.
He wondered if his grandmother knew quite how bad his mother was. Or at least how bad she’d become since his father had passed. The Widow Samson's influence certainly hadn't been a very good thing for their family at all. He wished that he could have one conversation with the mother that he remembered from when he was a boy. That woman could never even consider doing something like this. Not to him, and not to the woman he loved.
But this woman, this woman deserved to be alone. After what she’d done to Will and Carol, and now what she was willing to do to him, she’d made it clear where her loyalties were. And it wasn't with her sons.
He ran his hands through his hair as he looked up and down Allen Street. Olivia had left hours ago to go fetch them lunch. His stomach grumbled as if on cue. Where could she possibly be? He leaned over the edge of the boardwalk, looking up toward the mercantile. He blinked a few times as Suzanne rushed out of the building, down the steps from the boardwalk and across the street. Almost at a run, she stopped when she reached him. He took in a deep breath at the look of concern on her face, and rushed forward. As he tipped back his hat, she caught her breath.
"Joe, it's terrible," she said as she wrung her hands, her knuckles white.
"What is it, Suzanne?" Joe asked as he stepped closer.
“Oh, Joe. It’s just as we suspected. The man who came into the mercantile to offer us the pork products we were to buy from Olivia brought in a sample. The brand is a bit different, but it’s clearly from the Double Barrel Ranch. It was stolen, and they’re trying to sell it as theirs.”
Joe took a step back and swept his hand over his forehead. How could this be? He and Olivia had searched the ranch and found nothing. No remains of anything at all—but maybe that was the problem. They’d assumed it had all burned when it fact it was gone. Stolen.
“Who’s responsible for this?” he said, thoughts of his mother and the blacksmith shop immediately swept away. This was Olivia’s life, her home, her property, and it was more important to him than anything he had.
Suzanne pulled a handkerchief from the sleeve of her calico day dress. “We don’t know. Mrs. Allen has gone to speak with the man who brought in the sample,” she said as she pulled her eyes from Joe’s and looked up the street.
“And Olivia?” Joe asked slowly. Suzanne wouldn’t have come to him unless Olivia was involved. What had she done?
“Oh, Joe, that’s why I’m here. Olivia was very, very upset. She rushed out to the ranch on horseback, hoping to find something to prove that the pork was hers. A branding iron, something. Anything.”
He stood and paced. “She went alone?”
“I tried to stop her, Joe. Truly I did. I suggested I come fetch you and you could go with her. She wouldn’t allow it. Got on her horse and rode out.”
He looked around wildly. He didn’t have a key to the shop any longer, but he fingered the key to the livery in his pocket. He’d forgotten about that when he’d had the altercation with his mother.
“Luke, saddle up the fastest horse in the livery,” he shouted toward his assistant. “She’s headed to the ranch?”
“Yes,” Suzanne said. “And there’s no telling what’s waiting for her out there. At least she has her shotgun.”
Joe stopped short, turning toward the corner of the livery where he’d hidden Olivia’s gun. He hesitated for a moment, then stalked over and uncovered it, hefting it under his arm. The weight surprised him—heavier than he remembered a shotgun being. He hadn’t held one since before his pa died—at his mother’s request—but none of that mattered now. What mattered was his wife, and her safety.
“She doesn’t, but she will soon,” he said as he tipped his hat at Suzanne on his way to the horse that Luke held for him.
Chapter 36
Joe shook his head slowly as he headed out of town. He’d never suspected that the inventory had been stolen, and he didn’t think she had either. He’d just been enjoying his time getting to know his new wife, who he’d learned was kind, sweet and fascinating. Each day they’d been together, he’d been surprised and delighted to find out something new about her.
Now, as the wind whipped past his ears on his way to her ranch, he realized she was much more. He knew she was bold, courageous and determined—but this could be dangerous.
He sped through the streets of Tombstone, ignoring the shouts and jeers of wagon drivers and cowboys as he weaved through them as fast as he could to reach the outskirts of town.
One of the last houses was his grandmother’s, and as he approached, he couldn’t miss her bright shawl as she tugged it around her. He’d planned to just wave as he passed, anxious to get to Olivia, but she waved her arms wildly, her tiny figure frantically trying to get his attention.
“Joe, thank goodness you’ve come. It’s Olivia...” She held her hand to her chest as she caught her breath. Joe dismounted, looping the reins through the brass ring. He crossed over to the white gate of the picket fence and took his grandmother’s hands in his.
“What is it, Grandma? What about Olivia?”
She fanned herself as she looked up at Joe. “She’s on her way to the ranch, to try to find Percy and see about a branding iron. Something about the pork being stolen.”
“Yes, I know all about it, Grandma. I’m heading out to help her right now, and I really am in a hurry.” His horse stomped its feet anxiously, ready for the road. He squeezed her hands and turned back toward the horse.
She reached for his sleeve and pulled him back toward her. “There’s something else, Joe. Something is troubling her, and I’m not quite sure what it is. She said that you’d be better off without her, that she needed to make her own way.”
Joe pushed his hat back on his forehead and met his grandmother’s eyes. He frowned, wondering what Olivia could have been talking about. Hadn’t they been enjoying getting to know each other? What could have happened? Certainly she couldn’t know of his mother’s ultimatum.
He rubbed the back of his neck as he ran through the days’ events in his mind. Olivia had gone home to make lunch for him. She hadn’t returned, and he’d gone looking for her—and found his mother and his aunt. Had she run into them, too, before she’d gone to the mercantile?
His stomach sunk at the thought of what they might have said to her. “Did she mention what had upset her, besides the pork?”
“No, she wouldn’t say. But it was something about you. I tried to tell her that you loved her, but...”
“Grandma!” Joe exclaimed as his eyes widened.
“What? You do, and you know it. It’s as plain as the nose on your face, boy, and you may as well tell her. She’s determined to get this pork business sorted out, so hurry and help her so we can get on with things. I’d like some great-grandchildren before it’s my time to meet my maker.”
He rubbed the stubble on his chin as his cheeks warmed.
“Yes, she’s determined—and bold and courageous. That’s what I love about her.”
“There. I knew it,” she said as she looked over to the horse, her eyes widening. “Is that a shotgun in your saddlebag, son?”
His cheeks burned even hotter as he pulled his hat down over his eyes and nodded. “Yes, it’s Olivia’s. Thought she might need it,” he said as his gaze didn’t leave hers.
She nodded slowly, her eyes twinkling as she turned and rushed into the house. Moments later, she struggled through the door and down the porch steps, a heavy shotgun in her arms.
“Here, take this,” she said as she held out the gun. “It was your pa’s.”
Joe hesitated. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Grandma. Ma—”
His grandmother silenced him with a wave of her hand. “You leave that woman to me. Now, hurry. Go get that girl of yours. She needs you.”
Joe leaned forward and pecked his grandmother on her cheek, his heart full.
His Olivia was determined, all right. And he had said that’s what he loved about her—loved? He’d said it. And he meant it. She had changed him, shown him courage, conviction and kindness, and it was up to him to tell her. To help her. To sort out their future. And nothing would stop him.
Chapter 37
The rain clouds had scattered and the relentless sun beat down on Olivia. She hadn’t been riding long, but her horse showed signs of fatigue and she scouted for a water hole. Finding none, she slowed as she approached the San Pedro River. This was the time of year when it pushed against its banks, the product of the frequent rains and flash flooding. She dismounted and led the horse—she couldn’t believe she hadn’t even stopped to ask his name—to the river’s edge.
She sat beside him as he drank, cupping her hands and savoring some of the cool, fresh water. As much of a hurry as she was in, it wouldn’t do to have the horse tire before she made it to her destination.
This part of the river was dotted with clumps of cottonwoods, providing ample shade—there would be plenty of desert to cross later. She rested for a brief moment, working hard at keeping flashing images and bits of conversation from her mind. She’d have ample time to worry about that later—after she had searched the ranch for a branding iron and for Percy.
“You ready, boy?” she said as she reached for the horse’s reins. He lifted his head and walked away from her, toward a tree standing beside the river.
“Come on, now. I don’t have time for this foolishness.” Hands on her hips, she slowly walked behind the horse as he approached the tree and stopped.
He turned and looked at her, his big brown eyes unblinking. Olivia approached and picked up the reins. Her hand stopped in mid-air as she heard a long, low guttural sound. She reached up toward the saddle bag before she remembered it was empty—she didn’t have her gun.
The horse whinnied and bobbed its head at the tree. Olivia heard the sound again and she held her breath. This time it sounded more like a groan. If it was a wounded animal, she’d best be on her way.
Horse hooves thudded on the road behind her and she tensed. She’d been hoping she wouldn’t find anybody on the road today, that she could get in and out of the ranch in a hurry. She squared her shoulders, hoping that whoever was coming down the road behind her was friendly. Maybe if she was lucky they wouldn’t even notice her down by the river, a little bit away from the road.
She wasn’t quite sure how she felt when the rider rounded the bend at breakneck speed, his coat flapping in the hot breeze. He was on her horse—Georgie—and his hair touched his collar from under his hat.
Joe.
Her instincts from growing up on the ranch and avoiding danger told her to step back into the shadows and let him pass. She was on a mi
ssion, and the conversation they’d likely need to have could wait for another time.
But her heart had other ideas, and she ran forward into the sun, waving at him until he stopped and guided Georgie down the small bank to where she’d stopped.
He hopped off Georgie and took two long strides toward her, taking off his hat. He stopped inches away from her, and she could feel his warm breath on her cheek as his chest heaved.
“Olivia, how could you do this without me? It’s dangerous,” he warned, his eyes narrowed.
He clearly hadn’t heard the news from his mother, that he had to choose between the shop or her, or he wouldn’t be here. He’d make the obvious choice for himself and for Will and Carol, and let her go.
She took a step back, away from his warm breath and kind eyes. She’d need to tell him the truth.
“Joe, there’s something you don’t know. About your mother. About the shop.”
She frowned, and irritation swept through her as he laughed.
“Are you going to tell me that my mother is selling the shop unless we have our marriage annulled?”
Her head jerked up and she looked into his twinkling eyes. How could he be laughing at a time like this? Unless he didn’t care about her. Unless this was what he wanted. In that case, she’d better get back on the road and find those branding irons.
“Yes, that’s what I overheard her talking about when I went home—I mean, to your house—to fetch lunch. I was certain that you’d accept her offer, as you should. It’s your life’s work, Joe. I am a newcomer. It’s not worth the trade.”
She turned from him and walked toward the water’s edge, stopping at the bank. She heard Joe’s grandmother’s voice on the wind, telling her that she loved Joe and in this moment, she knew she did. What else would cause this unbearable pain in her heart as she set him free?
The Blacksmith's Mail Order Bride (Wild West Frontier Brides Book 5) Page 15