by Chloe Carley
“Mrs. Hale, I’m glad I found you this morning. I came into town with the express intention of speaking with you,” Mr. Knox said and she looked up at him in surprise.
“With me? Well, whatever for?” she asked, vigorously buttering a piece of bread.
“To apologize. I’m so very sorry about the ranch. I had no idea of your circumstances, or of your husband’s wayward dealings in these matters. I’d never have bought it if I’d thought you stood to lose your inheritance,” he assured her.
“You weren’t to know, Mr. Knox. I went to see Mr. Harvey at the bank yesterday and he assured me that everything was above board. You bought Lampeter Ranch fair and square and in good faith. The only person to blame is my late husband, and how I wish he were he for me to do so,” Aline replied.
“I’m grateful to you, Mrs. Hale. It was never my intention to cause you any hurt, I assure you of that,” Mr. Knox replied, taking a sip of coffee.
“But you must understand how very devastated I feel by all of this. I discover that my late husband has left me with nothing. We were married but a few years and, in that time, he flitted away my entire inheritance, always telling me that everything was all right. Well, it wasn’t, and for that I can never forgive him,” Aline said, shaking her head sadly.
“You’ve been dealt a terrible blow, Mrs. Hale, and I have every sympathy for you. No woman should be subject to such treatment at the hands of a man who professes to love her,” Mr. Knox said.
“Very true,” Aline replied, her attitude toward him beginning to soften.
It was not his fault he’d bought Lampeter Ranch, but she couldn’t rid herself of the words the sheriff had spoken about this man. It seemed that few in Lakestone had a good word for him, and as Lita Morrell returned to collect her empty plate, she too eyed Mr. Knox with suspicion.
“Well, now, Mrs. Morrell. Is business good?” he asked and she nodded.
“It is,” she replied, curtly.
“I’m glad to hear that. Does the sheriff pay his bills on time?” he continued.
“The sheriff’s finances are none of your business, Mr. Knox. But I assure you that he is a model of what a decent man should be.” She gave him a withering look before turning on her heel and retreating from the dining room.
Mr. Knox laughed and let out a long sigh, sitting silently for a moment as though lost in thought.
“What’ll you do next, Mrs. Hale? Do you intend to stay in Lakestone?” he asked.
“I’ve given it very little thought, Mr. Knox. I had my heart set upon farming up at Lampeter Ranch but since that’s no longer possible, I’m quite at a loss as to what to do next,” she replied.
Mr. Knox fixed her with a toothy smile, his head cocked to one side, just as he’d looked the day before.
“Mrs. Hale, I felt mighty sorry for you yesterday. Truth be told, I didn’t sleep a wink last night. All I could think of was how sorry I felt for you, after the way your husband treated you so cruelly. I’d like to make you an offer,” he said.
“An offer?” she replied. “What sort of an offer?”
“Well… I know you had your heart set on Lampeter Ranch, and I myself am no farmer. I know nothing about ranch life—I bought the ranch as an investment, but I have other properties hereabouts. I don’t live at Lampeter Ranch; you were lucky to catch me there yesterday. What do you say to coming and working on the ranch for just as long as you need to find closure and work out what’s best for your future?” he said.
Aline was quite taken aback. It was such a generous offer, and from a man she barely knew. Did he really mean it? It seemed too good to be true.
“I… well, that is ever so kind of you, Mr. Knox. But I… I can’t pay my way. I have nothing, I couldn’t pay you rent or any deposit,” she replied, but he shook his head.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Mrs. Hale. You don’t owe me anything. I need a housekeeper, someone to look after the ranch whilst I’m not there, which is most of the time. You’d be working for me, but the ranch would be yours to do with as you please. As I said, I’m no expert in farming, I don’t know the first thing about it. But you seem to have the enthusiasm of one who is ready for such a challenge,” he said.
Aline made no immediate reply. It was the most generous of offers, though she didn’t like to admit that she while she knew little of farming, she knew even less of domestic chores. Aline’s life had been one of privilege. As a child, she’d been looked after by a nanny and the house had been run by the housekeeper, Mrs. Rudd, and any number of maids and cooks. Aline had never cooked or cleaned—she knew nothing of domestic ways.
“Mr. Knox, I…” she began, but he raised his hand.
“Please say yes, Mrs. Hale. You would be doing me a great favor and I feel so awful for having bought the ranch with no idea of your circumstances. This seems like the least I can do for you,” he said.
It would mean staying on the land, the land my father bought for us and where he intended to live, she thought, once more feeling that connection to her dear father.
It was an offer too good to refuse, but Aline knew she needed a little more time to think it over. She would write to her aunt that very day, but her mind was almost as good as made up.
“Everyone here is so kind—you, the sheriff, Mrs. Morrell. I’d quite forgotten that good and decent folks exist. Would you… would you permit me a little time to think it over? Just a day, I shall give you my response in the morning,” she said, and Mr. Knox nodded.
“You would want for nothing, Mrs. Hale. I have credit at all the shops in Lakestone. You could purchase anything you needed on my tabs. Food, farming equipment, seeds. Anything,” he said, and she thanked him once more.
“I must just take a little while to think it over,” she said and he rose from his place and bowed to her.
“Then I shall return tomorrow, Mrs. Hale, and I do hope that your answer will be the one I wish to hear,” he said, and with that, he was gone.
She watched as he crossed over the street, stealing a glance behind him and smiling to her once more.
He really is so very kind, she thought as Sammy jumped up onto her lap and rubbed his head on her chin.
“Now then, Sammy. Why were you so short with Mr. Knox? I’ve never known you to refuse a friendly hand,” she wondered, but the cat simply purred and rubbed himself further into her chin.
She sat for a while longer, pondering Mr. Knox’s offer. It was generous, that was certain, but she knew nothing of domestic life, nor of farming.
But it was my father’s dream, she reminded herself.
The clock across the street now said quarter to eleven and the sun was high in the sky. She decided to take a walk. It would be a chance to ponder what Mr. Knox had said and so, she put Sammy upstairs on the bed, where he lay down to sleep, and made her way outside.
It was already warm, but a different kind of heat to back home in Massachusetts. Here, the air was dry, and despite the gentle breeze blowing through the town, she found herself wilting after just a few short steps.
My, this place is warm, she thought, pausing in the shade of a large apple tree that hung over the fence of someone’s garden. She watched as the townsfolk went about their business, pausing to pass the time of day with one another. No one seemed in much of a hurry, and the idea of such a pace of life was attractive to her.
I’d fit right in here, she thought, and made her way slowly along the street.
The saloon was already open and a number of horses were tethered up outside. The grocery shop was doing a roaring trade; she reminded herself to pick up some tins of sardines for Sammy later that afternoon. Her footsteps brought her to the church, which lay at the end of the street. Beyond it was the schoolhouse, where outside, the children were playing hopscotch.
She stepped up onto the veranda of the church and was pleased to find the door open, the cool interior a welcome repose from the heat of the midday sun. She sat down on one of the pews and watched the dust playing in a shaft
of sunlight coming through a window up above.
Above the communion table was a cross, made of plain wood that appeared to be the spokes of a prairie schooner. It was simple, yet beautiful, and Aline couldn’t help but stare at it. She’d always kept her faith, for it was that which had brought her safely through those dark days with Damon Hale. She’d clung to the scriptures and, instinctively, she took up one of the Bibles which lay neatly in front of each pew.
She turned to the prophet Isaiah and found the very text which had entered her mind as she sat looking up at the cross.
“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland,” she read out loud, smiling at the very clear message her heart and mind were giving her.
“It’s nice to see a young lady reading her scripture,” a voice behind her said and Aline startled, turning to see an elderly man with a kindly face watching her from the doorway.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… it was just that the door was open and…” Aline began, but he laughed and walked over to her.
“Moses Warren. I’m the pastor here, and you’re welcome to sit in my church anytime you wish, Miss …?” he said, holding out his hand to her.
“Aline, Aline Hale, Mrs. Aline Hale,” she replied.
“The lady with the cat?” the pastor replied, and Aline looked at him in surprise.
“That’s right, but…” she began, but he chuckled and slapped his thigh.
“News travels fast in a little place like Lakestone. Heck Ford told me that the sheriff was ever so taken by your cat, Mrs. Hale, and I just passed Mrs. Morrell, who told me she had a lovely young lady from Massachusetts boarding with her,” the pastor explained.
“I guess I’m not used to such little places. Back home, it’s quite different,” Aline admitted.
“I came out here from New York City ten years ago with my wife and children. It was the best decision I ever made. When you look out across the prairies on a day like today, well, that to me is the good Lord’s creation, and I thank God every day for bringing me to Lakestone,” he said.
“I… I was just thinking the same thing. Well, not quite, but I have a chance to stay here and I’m not quite sure yet. My aunt is back home and I really have nothing here. It’s a long story, but…” she began, blushing at her garbled words.
But the kindly pastor just shook his head and raised his hand.
“What does your heart tell you to do, Mrs. Hale?” he asked, and she looked up at him and then to the cross, upon which the sunlight had now fallen, the wood glowing with a radiance which seemed to speak straight to her soul.
“I… it tells me to stay, to forget the former things,” she replied.
“You know what your heart is? Your heart is God’s way of telling you things. Sure, man has the ability to reason and he thinks things through, but the heart is the impulse for what will truly make us happy. Call it what you will: the conscience, the mind, whatever. But in your heart, that’s where God speaks, and it seems to me that you knew what God wanted of you before you stepped into this church. He wants you to be happy, Mrs. Hale, for where your treasure is, there your heart will be, too,” the pastor replied.
Aline felt as though he’d seen right into her soul. “That’s what I want. I just find it hard to admit what I want at times,” she replied, and he nodded.
“Most folks do. But follow your heart, Mrs. Hale, and you’ll find what you’re looking for,” he said, and with that he bid her a good day.
Aline smiled to herself and allowed her mind to wander. To stay in Lakestone would be something of a blessing—she’d nothing to return to in Massachusetts, except her aunt, of course.
But she could come join me out here, she’d love the prairie and the wide-open spaces, Aline told herself.
It seemed that her mind was made up, and with a final glance down at the open Bible, she nodded and looked up resolutely at the cross on the east wall.
“If it be your will,” she said out loud, as the sun cast its light through the windows and a strange sense of peace came over her, “I’ll stay.”
Chapter Eight
Thomas had left for the sheriff’s office early that day, refusing a second helping of Lita Morrell’s excellent scrambled eggs.
“There’s business to see to, Mrs. Morrell,” he’d said, as she’d stood with the steaming pan in hand.
“Well, Pastor Warren would say that ‘man does not live by bread alone,’ Sheriff, but it sure helps set him up for the day. Do you want to take something with you?” she’d asked, but Thomas had shaken his head.
“You’re too kind, Mrs. Morell, what would I do without you?” he’d replied. “But I must be going.”
And with that, Thomas had stepped out into the early morning sun and made his way across to the sheriff’s office. There, he’d found John Hoskins, who appeared exceptionally pleased with himself as he smiled and greeted Thomas with a cheery “Good morning.”
“And what have you got to be so pleased about, Deputy?” Thomas wondered, smiling and rolling his eyes as he took off his hat.
“What day is it today, Sheriff?” John asked, and Thomas took his seat.
“Friday,” Thomas replied and the deputy nodded.
“Aha, Friday, which means that yesterday was Thursday,” he continued. Thomas looked at him in puzzlement.
“Friday usually follows on from Thursday, John. That’s kind of how it’s always been,” Thomas replied as he began to sift through the pile of papers on his desk.
“And what was I doing Thursday night, Sheriff? The night you so kindly let me have off,” John Hoskins replied.
“Oh… right, yeah, Susan Ford. Did she enjoy being taken to the Last Chance Saloon? I hear it’s second only to Paris in its romantic charms,” Thomas replied, laughing, as the deputy blushed.
“Well, she enjoyed it enough to give me a kiss on the cheek when I took her home—and the promise of taking tea with her and her folks next Tuesday,” John replied.
“A kiss? You’d better not let Heck Ford catch you kissing his daughter. You’ll be taking more than tea if you do,” Thomas said, still laughing, for the grocer had a reputation for his bad temper.
“No one saw and it was only on the cheek, Sheriff. Besides, I like her, she’s kind and smart…” the deputy replied.
“And ‘oh so sweet and gentle,’ that’s what you say about them all. Though I’ll admit that usually you don’t get an invitation to tea, John. Best shine up your badge and polish your boots,” Thomas replied and the deputy laughed.
“And how is Mrs. Hale, Sheriff? Did she settle in well at the boarding house?” the deputy asked, giving Thomas a wry smile.
“Mrs. Hale had not risen when I left, Deputy Hoskins,” Thomas replied. “Her business is her own, I merely helped her to find suitable lodgings for the night.”
“For which I’m sure she’ll be ever grateful,” the deputy replied, and he went off whistling.
I was only being helpful, Thomas thought to himself, but his mind lingered on Aline and he wondered what the day would hold for her.
Would she return to Massachusetts? There was a train coming through that day, late that afternoon. She could be back home in a few days if she caught it, and Lakestone would soon be a dim and distant memory.
It’s be a shame to see her go, he thought, as he began to fill in his weekly report for the mayor. I’d sure like to get to know her better.
It was a strange thought, or so he told himself. Thomas rarely paid attention to the fairer sex, and he was hardly the womanizer that John Hoskins was. But something about Aline had captured his imagination. She was different from other women, certainly any who resided in Lakestone. The town was a place set in its ways, and its women reflected that.
All wives and no sweethearts, he repeated to himself, an oft-heard phrase amongst the ranchers who found themselves without a woman, or t
he possibility of finding one in such a small back-creek town.
“I’ll be going now, Sheriff. I need to track down Old Wyatt Cartwright, apparently he hasn’t paid his grocery bill for four months,” John Hoskins said, emerging from the back of the sheriff’s office, where he’d been checking the sleeping drunkards in the cells.
“It must be love if you’re doing Heck Ford’s work for him,” Thomas replied, shaking his head, as the deputy flushed red.
“I… well, unpaid grocery bills are a matter for the law. It’s as good as stealing,” he replied, and Thomas smiled.
“Ask Wyatt if he’s responsible for the cattle rustling, because right now I’d take any suspect,” Thomas replied, shaking his head.
“We’ll find them, Sheriff. Don’t you worry,” John Hoskins replied and he donned his hat and stepped out into the sun, leaving Thomas alone.