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

by Cassidy Hanton

  Men, ranchers, who followed her father's orders for years, gradually turned their backs on her. The locals did not care to take on any additional work of running a second ranch. Perhaps their pride did not let them work for a 'crazy woman' or a girl.

  Some offered her marriage instead, and Geraldine refused them all and vowed to herself she would never again rely on someone else in her life. She had her mother and she had Elsa, who was there to step in when no one wanted to deal with a twelve-year-old. Unfortunately, some changes were inevitable. Geraldine was forced to sell all the cattle her family had for years. She couldn't manage the herd on her own, but there was another reason. A large portion of that money was used to pay off her father's debt, and the rest to turn their ranch into a farm. She had a vision of something far more suitable for her to do.

  Everyone thought she was mad when she started planting fruits and vegetables. It was really difficult at first, and at times Geraldine doubted it herself, fearing they would starve to death, but now things were looking up. The trees with fruits finally started providing, and their vegetable gardens gave the best, most delicious food in the area—without any false modesty.

  The best part about changing their lives was the fact that it had effects on her mother as well. Miraculously, this type of manual labor got her mother out of bed, and things improved even greater. Over time, Geraldine built a hen-house for her mother, and that became the main source of their income.

  Years passed and they were still there. Geraldine managed to keep the farm and the house, so she took that as a good sign. She must have been doing something right, so she kept doing it.

  Her mother, Stephanie, stayed on the farm without ever leaving it to go to town, even for church, and was having her bad days from time to time when she wouldn't even leave her bed, crying over her lost husband. They settled in this new life somehow, and Geraldine was quite pleased with all she accomplished.

  The debt was almost paid, after all these years, and then things would really improve for the two of them. And I will be free.

  She longed for the day she wouldn't have to worry about every single coin. Peter Laurel really made a big mess out of his family, and when she was younger, Geraldine was quite cross at him, bitter even; luckily, those days passed.

  Even though Geraldine wouldn't say necessarily she was happy, she was not unhappy either. That was far more a girl in her situation could hope for, anyway.

  Chapter Two

  “Good morning, Geraldine.” A rather familiar voice snapped Geraldine from her daydreaming, and she smiled broadly while replying.

  “Good morning to you, too, Mrs. Henley. How are you?” She remembered Mrs. Henley had some back problems a few days past and was praying they were gone by now.

  “Oh, I am quite all right,” she replied instantly with a wave of her hand as if it was of no importance, but then her eyes focused, and Geraldine knew she was being scrutinized.

  I am glad I wore my good dress today, Geraldine thought without actual humor. “How are you, Geraldine? You look tired, my dear,” she continued, not waiting for an answer. “Are you sleeping enough?”

  No. “As much as I can.”

  Mrs. Henley pursed her lips, clearly unsatisfied with such a reply, yet Geraldine could not lie to her. She never could.

  Mrs. Sarah Henley was Geraldine's old school teacher. Geraldine loved to go to school. She was probably one of the few students who could say that sincerely, since Mrs. Henley was a rather stern teacher, but that made no difference to her. She loved to learn new things and was excited anew with each subject.

  Alas, once her father disappeared and her mother fell ill, Geraldine had to quit school to take care of her and the ranch. She never allowed herself to mourn what she lost back then because she knew she made the right decision. The same decision she would make every time if she got the chance to go through everything all over again.

  On the other hand, that did not go well with Mrs. Henley, since Geraldine was her favorite. Not that she would ever admit to such a thing publicly, yet Geraldine knew, nevertheless. She was grateful Mrs. Henley refused to give up on her or her precious education, even though it made her life more difficult at times. When she had the time, her old teacher would visit Geraldine on the farm, offering private lessons, or Geraldine would go to her house.

  In later years, Mrs. Henley provided her with reading materials, rare books that advanced her studies even further. To this day, they would gather, when convenient to both of them, to discuss something new Geraldine read or had problems comprehending. “You are my dearest student,” Mrs. Henley would say to her in those moments, despite the fact Geraldine wasn't officially in her class for many years at that point.

  “And you, my dearest teacher.”

  Mrs. Henley chuckled. “I am your only teacher,” and they would both laugh.

  Truth be told, Geraldine still loved to read and learn as much as possible. No matter how tired she would get after her day of labor, working on the farm or selling at the market, she would muster enough strength to catch up on her reading before bedtime. Often she would fall asleep with her nose stuck in some book, and for some reason, that was comforting for her. Maybe it was the smell. She simply adored the smell of books; it calmed her on a deeper, profound level.

  Geraldine loved the farm life. In her private moments, however scarce they might be, she fantasized about a different path in life. Seldom did she wish she could be a teacher just like Mrs. Henley and help future generations of children make sense of the world around them. “I have some new books for you to read, so come by to collect them when you can,” Mrs. Henley informed her.

  Feeling quite ashamed, Geraldine confessed, “I still haven't read the last one.” In the last couple of months, Geraldine would fall asleep—literally—after reading only a few lines; sometimes they were the same one.

  “No matter,” Mrs. Henley waved with her hand. “You will when you can.” And that was a closed matter for her. Her pragmatic approach to life was just one of the things Geraldine loved about that woman.

  “I will come as soon as I can,” Geraldine promised. “Thank you, Mrs. Henley.”

  “Always. Now, be a dear and pack me a dozen of these lovely eggs of yours. You know my Hubert insists on eating eggs that only come from your farm.” Geraldine really appreciated her old teacher saying that. She was not dull, she knew Mrs. Henley was using this as an excuse to help her, but Geraldine wasn't that proud to refuse it. Besides, she wouldn't dare insult her old teacher by refusing; she cared far too much to behave in such a manner. “And some of these lovely carrots, as well.”

  Geraldine nodded and carefully wrapped a dozen eggs, putting in a few extra for good measure, and then did the same with the vegetables. After she was satisfied they wouldn't break, she placed the wrapping inside Mrs. Henley's basket. Mrs. Henley nodded in approval, offering her money. Once again she gave Geraldine a great deal more for her purchases than was needed.

  “Mrs. Henley,” Geraldine started to protest, and Mrs. Henley cut her off mid-sentence.

  “Come and visit me as soon as possible,” she told Geraldine sternly, using her authoritative teacher's voice before walking away.

  “Yes, ma'am,” Geraldine shouted after her, and Mrs. Henley simply nodded without turning back.

  That is one great woman. Geraldine wished that one day she could be half as achieved and good at everything as Mrs. Henley already was.

  * * *

  Geraldine spent the rest of her morning chatting with people and selling eggs. “Geraldine!”

  She turned at the sound of her name just in time to see a loaf of bread flying her way. Without a thought, she caught it with both hands. It was still warm but not warm enough for it to burn her hands. Luckily for Jeremy or I would murder him.

  Geraldine's mouth actually watered taking a whiff of the freshly baked bread, and she took a big bite on the spot. Delicious, she thought, and her mouth and belly practically sang in agreement.

/>   While eating, she noticed Jeremy's smiling face as he approached her. He looked mighty satisfied with his jest. “You are utterly mad,” she informed him, between bites.

  Mad and knows how to bake, she added to herself, which is a very useful trait. Geraldine, on the other hand, couldn't bake even if her life depended on it. And there were times it really did. For some unknown reason, she was simply awful. She had no problems with other things. She knew how to cook, and could prepare meals that were quite delicious, if she should say so herself; however, her baking skills were a complete nightmare.

  “And you look like a wildling eating like that,” Jeremy countered. “Didn't your Mamma teach you how to eat with your mouth closed?”

  Geraldine stuck her tongue at him. “I thought I was feral, not wild,” she said, referring to her old school nickname. Not the best comeback in the world, she admitted. Still, that was the best she could do at the moment, since she was too busy eating.

  People will think I am starving, she worried for a moment. And that was far from being the case. Geraldine was simply too busy to think about such mundane things as eating or sleeping. “That too,” Jeremy replied instantly. Geraldine simply rolled her eyes at him in return, which made him grin.

  While she was eating and enjoying her easy banter with Jeremy, a group of girls slowly approached them, which instantly put Geraldine in a foul mood. Because she knew what was about to pass. In the center of said group was a girl named Susannah Johnson. They went to school together, and for some reason, Susannah always picked on Geraldine. Her dresses were always ugly, her pigtails too short or her handwriting too messy. No matter what Geraldine did, Susannah found a way to criticize her for it, and that continued to this very day. It did not matter that Geraldine quit school before her twelfth birthday.

  Oh, joy, my day is now complete, Geraldine murmured, preparing for yet another attack. “Geraldine,” she greeted her, wearing a deceitful smile and eyeing her from head to toe. And finding me lacking in every way, not that I care. That was the second time that morning Geraldine felt scrutinized. While Mrs. Henley did that out of affection and concern, Susannah did it out of malice, and it was very hard for Geraldine to rein in her temper.

  “Susannah,” Geraldine countered, mimicking that same smile, which she hadn’t quit mastered. She wasn't as practiced as Susannah clearly was.

  Susannah completely ignored Jeremy, not sparing a glance his way or saying hello. He, too, went to school with them. Still, she pretended as if he was not there, and he preferred it that way. He would never admit to such a thing, but Geraldine knew he was simply terrified of Susannah. She had a sharp tongue and wasn't afraid to use it. On the other hand, Jeremy was a kind and gentle soul that never wished anyone harm. Because of that, there were times Geraldine had to save him from others, and from himself as well.

  “You poor thing,” Susannah suddenly exclaimed, returning Geraldine to the here and now. “You are still selling eggs here.”

  Geraldine frowned, not understanding her meaning. Of course, she was here, where else should I be? “Yes, I am still here,” Geraldine replied feeling rather silly for even having to say something that obvious.

  Susannah nodded. “That means the selling isn't going that well.” She feined looking genuinely concerned, but Geraldine wasn't fooled. The rest of the girls, which Geraldine all knew by names, waited in silence of what was to come next.

  Nothing, if Geraldine had any about it. “The sales are going just fine,” Geraldine replied, raising her chin ever so slightly. Not to brag, but she usually went home empty-handed.

  Susannah glanced at the display, sticking her head in the baskets while wrinkling her nose in disgust, and naturally Geraldine took offense. She labored very hard for everything that was presented on that table, and this supposedly refined young lady was being disrespectful and mean out of spite and boredom. She’s the same spoiled brat as when we were younger. Nothing really changes, does it? “Do you wish to purchase anything?” Geraldine pleasantly inquired. Susannah completely ignored the question.

  “Would you care to hear my advice?” She asked in return.

  No, I would not care at all, Geraldine thought, yet remained silent.

  “Next time try to bring fresh eggs and ripe fruits and vegetables. I know you are poor, but you cannot be selling this garbage.”

  Each word cut like a knife, and Geraldine really wanted to scream aloud. Regrettably, she knew she couldn't, and to make sure of that, she bit her lower lip. Susannah, with feat accomplished, simply turned and left without saying anything else, guiding her parade of snickering girls along. Geraldine noticed too late that Susannah was walking away, delightfully biting an apple off the table.

  That witch, Geraldine fumed. I hope she chokes on it. I hope she falls asleep with a curling iron and burns all her hair.

  Jeremy looked at Geraldine incredulously while she practically shook with rage.

  I wish she trips and falls into horse's manure, Geraldine thought.

  “Why didn't you say something to her Geraldine? You had no problems standing up to her when we were in school.”

  That is true. Geraldine would give up everything to return to that period of her life again; not only to give Susannah a piece of her mind, but be allowed to be a child, to play and learn. Those days were long gone. “What changed?”

  Everything.

  Geraldine gave Jeremy the look. “What do you think would happen if I did something to Fergus Johnson's daughter?”

  He made a face as if tasting something sour. “I see your point.” He moved closer to her, his expression turning even more serious. “Maybe you should just leave?”

  “Leave?”

  “Yes, leave Oatman, forget about Oatman, just like-” he stopped himself in time but Geraldine knew what he wanted to say. Just like my father.

  “How could I possibly leave? I would miss the heat, and the hard ground I’m so accustomed falling onto.”

  “Don't forget the ever present dust.”

  “Well of course I would miss that.” Even though she tried to make her words light she felt anything but that. Maybe Jeremy had a point. It was just that Geraldine was in no position to contemplate leaving.

  Geraldine took a deep breath, then another, trying to calm herself down. Other vendors close by who heard the exchange gave her sympathetic looks; she ignored them all.

  She was fuming for remaining quiet and feeling powerless to change Susannah’s continual mockery. I cannot attack Susannah in any way, she repeated to herself like a mantra, but that only fueled her rage further. It was not easy swallowing her pride each time she saw Susannah, but it was necessary. Susannah’s father, Fergus Johnson had a lot of pull in this town. He owned a few mines, making him undoubtedly the richest man in Oatman. He was also the man who loaned her father money. Many had said Peter Laurel ran away, probably with a mistress, to avoid paying back the loan, but Geraldine refused to believe such nonsense. She was convinced there was a better explanation for her father’s disappearance and feared something dreadful had happened that kept him from returning. Tarnishing her father's good name was a mean spirited thing to do.

  On the brighter side, Geraldine was almost done with the payments. Soon, her family's debt to the Johnson family would be paid in full, and she didn't want to jeopardize her farm simply because some rich girl chose to be perpetually mean to her. So Geraldine took the high road, even though it was killing her.

  Yet the moment the debt is paid off... Geraldine grinned.

  Jeremy saw a far-way look in her eyes. “What are you thinking about so intently?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “You look rather frightening like that.”

  Perfect. “Remember this moment and what you said the next time you decide to taunt me for no apparent reason.”

  Jeremy opened his mouth to say something then reconsidered. He tried again after a heartbeat. “I think I will go now. See you tomorrow, Geraldine.”

  “See you, a
nd Jeremy?”

  “Hm?”

  “Thank you for the bread. Your skill has improved immensely.” She sincerely meant the compliment.

  Jeremy instantly grew taller, and Geraldine barely contained herself not to laugh. “Of course it has, but thank you for noticing,” he replied politely, surprising her to no end since she was expecting something humorous from him. She simply nodded in return.

  Watching him return to the small bakery his family owned, Geraldine had a splendid idea. Once Jeremy’s skills get even better, surpassing even his father who was a true master, they should start working together. Geraldine could make sandwiches using Jeremy's bread with ingredients from the farm and sell them to the miners during their lunch breaks. They would have to travel a bit since the mine was closer to the nearby town, yet she was certain it would be worth their while.

  Geraldine, you are a true genius. Feeling giddy all of a sudden, she couldn't wait to share her business idea with Jeremy. He would certainly say yes, she was sure of that.

  It wasn't even noon when Geraldine started packing for home. She successfully sold everything, despite Susannah's snide comment. The eggs were fresh, and townspeople liked buying from her. Geraldine returned many now-empty baskets to the cart, and after saying goodbye to some vendors who were staying much longer, she urged Whitey home.

  She reconsidered at the last moment and turned around toward Mrs. Henley's house instead. After the morning she had, her mother's bad day, and that encounter with Susannah, she needed something good in her life, even for the briefest of moments.

  Geraldine would collect the stack of books Mrs. Henley had so kindly prepared for her, and perhaps a new set of them would inspire her to finish the last one. Deep down, Geraldine knew that inspiration was not the problem. It was the time, or her lack of it. Perhaps it was a silly notion, but she needed a much longer day to accomplish everything she needed and wanted to.