The Salvation 0f A Runaway Bride (Historical Western Romance)

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The Salvation 0f A Runaway Bride (Historical Western Romance) Page 8

by Cassidy Hanton


  “Thank you for that. And the impressive wood carving of…me. What did I do to deserve all these gifts?” Laura asked.

  Abe shrugged and looked up at the sky. “Just enjoyed making them. You gave me a reason to.”

  “Well, thank you, you continue to surprise me,” Laura said.

  They both lay there in the grass, looking at the clouds drifting overhead. The breeze rustled the grass and the air smelled like wood, and leaves, and firewood. Abe couldn’t remember the last time he had just stopped to look and listen. He preferred to bury his thoughts in some kind of work. But seeing Laura there, lying next to him, he never wanted to move from this spot.

  “So was it how you remembered?” he asked.

  “What?” she replied.

  “The swing.”

  She nodded. “It was. You’re impressively strong. You made me feel weightless. Well, of course, until I fell.”

  “Yes, sorry about that,” Abe apologized.

  “Don’t be, it was actually kind of fun.” Laura laughed.

  Abe looked at her, blonde hair spilling out into the grass, like scattered straw.

  “What are you two doing?” Aunt Ethel’s voice rang out from the house.

  Laura shot upright. “Abe built a swing!”

  Abe sat up to look at Aunt Ethel, who was staring at him with a bemused look on her face.

  “Not the most ladylike thing, don’t you think?” she asked.

  Abe searched for a reply, but Laura cut in.

  “Who cares? It’s fun. Want a go Aunt Ethel?” Laura asked.

  “Oh, I don’t think I should. With the leg and all,” Aunt Ethel replied nervously.

  “Come on!” Laura said as she walked up to the porch and offered her arm. Aunt Ethel took it and slowly walked over to the swing. She gingerly sat down, as Abe steadied her.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “As I’ll ever be,” she replied, with a smile.

  Abe gently pushed her back and forth, back and forth, as Laura watched.

  “Oh my!” Aunt Ethel laughed.

  After a few minutes Abe slowed her to a stop and helped her up.

  “So Abe, to what do we owe such a nice gift?” she asked.

  “Just had some time on my hands is all,” he replied.

  “Uh huh,” she said skeptically. “Well, that bottom step on the back porch is a bit crooked if you’re looking for something else to occupy your time,” Aunt Ethel said, with a wink.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Abe helped Aunt Ethel back inside. He returned to the backyard, where Laura was standing, staring at him.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “Really, why are you doing all these things for us? I know I keep asking but I don’t think I’m getting the full answer,” Laura said.

  “Just a nice neighbor is all. And a friend.” Abe said, with a smile, shoving down the lump that was forming in his throat.

  “Well, I feel like we’re always the ones benefiting from this friendship. Is there anything I can do for you?” Laura asked.

  Abe stood still, mildly shocked. “No, nothing at all. I really am just happy to help.”

  Laura touched his arm and it felt like he had been hit with a shock of electricity. He stared at her, unsure of what to say next.

  “She was serious about that porch step,” Laura said, with a chuckle.

  “Oh, I never doubted, I’ll have it straight in a moment.” Abe laughed. He fished into his saddlebag and pulled out a hammer and some nails. Laura sat on the porch as he went to work. However, he was quiet, as he got lost in his thoughts.

  Why am I doing all this? Really? I can’t sort out my feelings, it’s all too jumbled up. She’s beautiful, and smart, and kind, but…

  He shook his head, which of course did nothing to clear it. Laura went inside and re-emerged a few minutes later, holding a copy of Huckleberry Finn.

  “What’s that for?” he asked.

  “Reading, of course. I can read out loud if you like,” Laura offered.

  “Sure, it’ll pass the time, while I straighten this out,” Abe answered.

  Laura began to read from the book, tales of river boat adventures and friendship, spilling from the pages. Abe listened as her lilting, melodic voice drifted over him. He was even conscious to hammer a bit more quietly. The step was fixed in no time, but Abe didn’t want her to stop, so he kept fidgeting with things of no importance, tapping on nails that were already affixed and sanding away at every tiny burr he could find. He thought, for a moment she might have noticed, as she peered over the top of the book and down at the clearly straight step, but she didn’t say a thing, just kept reading.

  Finally, she slid down and sat straight on the step. Abe froze, and then made a decision. He sat down right next to her as she read. She kept reading until the sun dipped lower and lower in the sky, the entire afternoon melting away. As the light dimmed, something magical and unexpected happened. A firefly landed right on the page. Neither Abe nor Laura moved a muscle, as the firefly softly blinked with its light. Laura smiled at Abe and then turned back to it. It crawled across the paper, over the words describing Huckleberry’s world, as if it were trying to read them too. Finally, it flew away and Laura sighed.

  “Well, I'd better be getting inside,” Laura said. “Thank you for a lovely afternoon Abe.” She smiled at him, not getting up.

  “Any time Laura, though, I think we lost track of time, I’m going to have quite a bit of work ahead of me at the ranch now.” Abe laughed.

  They both stood up and looked at each other. Abe did the only thing he could think of. He tipped his hat. She laughed. He watched her walk inside, and then he rode off.

  He got back to the ranch and laid down on his bed. He stared at the ceiling, recounting every little smile that made his heart skip. He was smitten, but he wasn’t ready to tell anyone. He wasn’t sure he was even ready to confess it to himself. But there it was, staring him in the face.

  So, what am I going to do?

  Abe enjoyed his life on his own. It was comfortable and uncomplicated. Letting someone else in, meant upsetting the balance, in his home and in his mind. And discomfort wasn’t something that Abe was accustomed to.

  And swirls of blonde hair, were about to toss his life into chaos like waves on an ocean. But he couldn’t deny how she made him feel.

  Chapter Eleven

  Laura turned the little wooden figurine over and over in her hands. It was strange, to hold herself in her fingers.

  All these gifts from Abe. It doesn’t seem like just friendship to me. But maybe…that’s just because it’s what I want? A handsome man like that to notice me?

  Laura pulled herself out of her thoughts. There was still plenty of work to get done around the house and she couldn’t linger. Today, she was painting. In lieu of wallpaper, she had decided to paint the walls around the kitchen and living room. Abe had already whitewashed them for her and, now, she was going to paint a delicate floral pattern on them. Mr. Mason had given her some leftover paints, that he had used at the general store, along with some beautiful brushes. She had yellows, blues, and greens.

  She tied her hair up in a handkerchief and dipped one of the delicate, fine-pointed brushes in the green paint. She began to paint thin, winding vines along the walls. They curved and crawled out of her brush. It felt, almost, as if she was following the vines instead of painting them. Her hand delicately drifting across the wall, was like it was unwinding the vines in her own mind. It was a lovely repetition, dipping and painting. Soon, the wall was covered with sprawling vines, like the foundation of a garden.

  Next, she dipped a brush into the light blue paint. She carefully dotted a cluster of dots onto the green vines. Forget-me-not flowers began to bloom, making Laura feel like a garden goddess, bringing things to life on the walls. Each little bloom was a tiny bit unique, taking on their own personalities. Laura even began to tell stories about them in her mind. Like this one was a bit precocious, and this other one was impish. This one was shy
and this one was bold. A whole universe written out in blooms.

  To finish it off, she dipped her brush in the yellow paint and added tiny yellow dots to the center of each and every flower.

  A little bit of the sun inside every one of them.

  After hours of painstaking work, she stepped back and looked at the garden she had created. It was as if, nature had crawled its way inside and taken over. Laura glowed with pride. Behind her Aunt Ethel gasped.

  “Oh Laura, it’s absolutely beautiful,” Aunt Ethel exclaimed, as she hugged Laura from behind.

  “Not bad, right?” Laura replied.

  “I’m never going to let you go home!” Aunt Ethel exclaimed. “I’ll have Abe help me kidnap you,” she said playfully.

  “Wouldn’t be that hard. This place has grown on me in ways I never thought it would,” Laura said.

  “It’s a magical place, I fell in love the moment I got here,” Aunt Ethel said. “I was already in love with my husband, but there’s just something about this land…it casts a spell on you.”

  “A good spell, I hope,” Laura said.

  “Oh yes, a very good one,” Aunt Ethel said, as she settled into her chair with her knitting. Laura also grabbed some yarn and needles, and sat down across from her.

  “This reminds me of knitting club back home,” Laura said, with a smile. “Though, significantly less gossip.”

  “I was never much for gossip. I like to know, but not to tell. The quieter you are, the more you can hear,” she said slyly.

  “Oh, so what do you hear?” Laura asked, as she knitted.

  “Plenty. The ladies in this town chirping about births, and deaths, and new loves,” Aunt Ethel commented. “Like I said, I don’t tell.”

  “Anything about me?” Laura asked.

  “Nothing bad,” Aunt Ethel said.

  “Wait, what does that mean?” Laura asked, as her needles paused.

  Aunt Ethel just smiled at her.

  “Please?” Laura pressed.

  “You’re well liked around town. Many have taken notice of your presence…and your beauty,” Aunt Ethel said.

  “Anyone in particular?” Laura asked.

  “Anyone you’re wishing for?” Aunt Ethel quipped back.

  “No, of course not,” Laura said, as she returned to her knitting. “I’d just like to know who I’ve curried favor with. Seems a good thing to know.”

  Aunt Ethel clicked away at her knitting quietly. Laura focused on her stitches. She had decided to knit a blanket for Bruce as a gift to Abe. The winter would be here soon, and she had knitted nice thick saddle blankets for Duchess every year back in Tucson, which got significantly less cold than it would in Utah.

  “What are you working on over there?” Aunt Ethel asked.

  “A present for Abe, to thank him for all his help,” Laura replied.

  “Ah, well that’s very kind of you,” Aunt Ethel said.

  Laura arched an eyebrow at her. “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. I don’t think Abe expects anything like that from you,” Aunt Ethel smiled at her.

  “That’s what makes a present special. You’re not supposed to expect it.”

  “I think your presence is gift enough for that boy,” Aunt Ethel replied.

  Laura felt her face flush. “You think?”

  “Laura, you’re a gorgeous, kind, smart girl. Folks are gonna take notice of that,” Aunt Ethel said, earnestly.

  Laura clicked away at her knitting, her face flushed.

  “It’s a good thing, dear. All you have to worry about is making sure that your attention goes to the right people. And I think you’ve got a good compass for that,” Aunt Ethel said.

  “I hope so. People are tricky,” Laura said.

  “But you’ve got a way with them. You’ve charmed practically every shopkeeper in town, already, from what I hear.”

  Laura laughed. “I learned all that from my father.”

  “But you’ve got more spunk. It’ll serve you well,” Aunt Ethel said.

  “Well, thank you Aunt Ethel, you’ve been so encouraging to me, so much more than my parents ever have been,” Laura said.

  “I think it’s hard for parents to look at their children sometimes and not either see themselves, or see their children when they were small and incapable of taking care of themselves. But you’ve grown into a fine, capable young woman, Laura. And I think you should acknowledge that. It’s a wonderful thing. Just look around at all you’ve done!” Aunt Ethel gestured to the room around them, which already, barely resembled the one Laura had arrived to. “You just have to have faith in yourself.”

  Have faith in myself. I’ve never heard those words before. They feel strange, like a mountain standing in front of me. I’ve always trusted those around me to do what’s best for me. Perhaps it’s time to start chasing what I want.

  “I’ll certainly try, Aunt Ethel,” Laura said, with a smile.

  Laura put another log on the fire and the two of them continued to knit. Aunt Ethel told Laura stories of her childhood and her husband. Laura exchanged funny anecdotes about her mother that made Aunt Ethel roll with laughter.

  Finally, the evening waned, and Aunt Ethel yawned.

  “I believe it’s time for bed.”

  Laura helped her up and into her bedroom, then retired to her own. She laid down in bed, but she couldn’t fall asleep. She stared at the ceiling, Aunt Ethel’s words rattling around in her head.

  Trust myself. It seems so daunting. My heart has aches and pains it’s never felt before. How do I know what to trust?

  She grabbed the figurine again and stared at it. He had carved such a soft face, but she noticed a certain earnestness to it.

  Is that what he sees?

  She realized that, to her, it was important to answer that question. But she couldn’t answer it tonight. After much fitful thought, she finally drifted to sleep.

  * * *

  The next morning, after making breakfast, Laura set back to work on the saddle blanket. She knitted quickly, the blanket materializing under her hands. She worked morning to evening, and before Aunt Ethel could even believe, as she remarked several times, the blanket was finished.

  On a crisp Friday morning, Abe arrived to chop some more wood for the fire. Laura felt jittery. She had carefully folded the blanket and was planning to surprise him with it. She watched him out back, swinging the heavy axe over and over again, but this time, she contemplated her own heart more closely.

  What do you want? What is my heart trying to tell me that I need to believe?

  It thudded back, in response, as she watched his broad shoulders working and his stormy eyes focused on his work. He was an impressive man, tireless and dedicated. She admired him so much. Finally, he came back inside, his forehead glistening with sweat. Laura handed him a glass of water.

  “Thank you.” He said breathlessly. He looked around as he drank the water. He put down the empty glass and admired the freshly painted walls. “Wow, this is amazing. Did you do this?”

  Laura nodded, as her cheeks flushed. “I did, it was an enjoyable challenge.”

  Abe took a closer look. “The detail is amazing. You’ve certainly got many gifts.”

  “Speaking of gifts…” Laura said, as she stepped into her room and returned with the blanket. “A little token of appreciation for all the work you’ve been putting in around here.”

  “Oh, Laura, you didn’t need to do anything for me. It’s more than enough that you feed me to near bursting every time I come over.” Abe laughed.

  “Well, then think of it for Bruce instead of for you, he has to ride over here with you, and I don’t think apples and carrots are cutting it anymore,” Laura said, with a smile.

  “He’s a greedy boy, don’t let him push you around,” Abe laughed. “Thank you, so much, for this, it’s far too kind,” he said softly.

  Laura studied his face. Whenever she locked eyes with him, it was like her heart sang.

  Is this what
you were trying to tell me? Is this where it’s leading?

  Abe Mavor was complex. He was kind and gentle, but so much of him remained a mystery. She had only scratched the surface of his life and his desires.

  I can’t even tell for sure how he feels about me. Perhaps I’m just being naïve.

  She knew the kind of man that her father had in mind for her. Likely someone from Tucson, perhaps a merchant like himself. Someone who would keep her close to home and provide for her. But Abe was a successful rancher, well respected in the community.

 

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