by Linda Broday
Once at the two-story frame house, he set the brake and helped her down. He tried to look at the place they’d be calling home through her eyes and saw little to commend it. A ton of work still needed doing, but he was glad he’d added colorful flower boxes under the front windows. Tally Colby and some of her friends had filled the planters with pretty marigolds and daisies, and frilly curtains framed the wide windows. Ridge hadn’t liked them much, but the women said Adeline would.
As he got time and money, he’d whitewash the place and pray the wind and sand wouldn’t strip the paint off too soon. And plant some trees. They did have one—a lone elm at the right corner, outside the kitchen. A weary soldier, it leaned until its branches nearly touched the ground. Ridge felt like that tree at times, especially after a night drinking with Clay and Jack.
Adeline handed him a piece of paper. “I like it.”
“Glad to hear that. Let’s go inside.” He prayed he’d remembered to straighten things up. He’d lived here on his own for the past month and sometimes forgot that ladies liked stuff neat and tidy.
“Our nearest neighbors are Travis and Rebel Lassiter, and their three young ones. You’ll like them.” He opened the door and gave her the grand tour. She paused for a long time in the parlor, sadness darkening in her eyes. There wasn’t a mess there, so she must have been thinking about something else. She’d said almost nothing about her former life in her letters, instead talking about books she’d once read and asking questions about him and the town.
Maybe one day when she was stronger, he’d get her to talk about family. He didn’t even know if she had any. But his curiosity would have to wait. They were on her schedule. He wished she could speak. Written communication was fine if that’s all there was. But a person said so much more when actually speaking the words. Cadence, rhythm, tone all revealed the state of mind of the speaker. If being safe helped, he’d do all he could to reassure her.
Moving on, she inspected the kitchen, opening cabinets and checking on dishes and pans. Her note simply read, “Good.”
Upstairs, she ran her fingers approvingly across the quilt on the bed. The golds, browns, and greens added a bright splash of color to the bland room, even he could see that. And he was glad he’d hung a picture—a sweeping landscape of the Hill Country that reminded him of a home he could never go back to.
“The women in town gave us the quilt as a marriage gift,” he explained. “They said it’s the wedding ring design, whatever the hell that is.”
The happy glimmer in her emerald eyes seemed to indicate she must know what that meant. Or maybe she was laughing at him.
She nodded at the small, round table tucked into a corner with two chairs, and slid her hand across the smooth wood of the tall chest of drawers.
“I emptied two drawers for you, Addie. But I can empty more if that’s not enough for your things.”
She raised her eyes to his and he wasn’t sure what he saw there. Acceptance? Disinterest? What? Before he could figure it out, she returned to the hallway.
Next, she glanced inside at the spare bedroom that they might one day use as a nursery. Ridge grew warm and unbuttoned the top of his collarless shirt. A baby was another subject they’d avoided in their letters. Maybe she didn’t want kids. He hadn’t let himself think about it much. Wanted men usually didn’t dream too far into the future—it was a hazard of the profession.
Maybe if he got rid of this dark cloud hanging over him…
He couldn’t tell anything by Adeline’s expression—whether she liked the room or not. Joy did, however, leap to her face when he showed her the bathing room.
“You only have to turn this knob, and you have hot water.” He leaned over to demonstrate. “And there’s no lugging the water outside when you finish. Just lift this stopper, and it drains right out into the yard.”
There was no mistaking her happiness and he was glad he could put that smile on her lips. She turned for the stairs, and he followed her down. At the bottom, she opened a small door to a little enclosed space under the stairwell. Her eyes lit up as though she’d found buried treasure.
Ridge ducked through the door. “This is just empty space. Not sure what to do with it.”
Adeline fiercely scribbled the word “Mine” on a piece of paper.
“Sure, whatever you want. I can put a bench in here, but I don’t think it’s large enough for a bed.” He frowned. Did she mean to sleep under the stairs? He wasn’t sure how much he’d like that.
But for someone who’d been living in a tiny cell for three years, maybe a room this size felt normal. It’s possible she was more damaged than he’d thought. And if she wanted a bed in there, he’d damn sure make one fit. Somehow.
She took the piece of paper from him and wrote “Safe,” then shoved it to his chest again.
Her forceful claim of the space rattled what little calm he’d managed to gather. The wounded bird had found her nest. God help him, he and this airless room would keep her safe until she gathered strength to fly.
Four
A summer storm rolled in while Addie and Ridge ate supper in the Blue Goose Café. The sky opened and in came a gully washer amid rumbling thunder that sounded like apples falling from a wagon. Lord knew they needed all the water they could get this time of year. While they ate, Ridge watched his bride. She seemed ill at ease when folks stopped by their table to congratulate them, so he did all the talking as though it were perfectly normal and invited each to the wedding.
He could almost see her ticking off the minutes in her head until she could escape to the privacy of her hotel room. But he was too. He itched to get this wedding over. Only after that could they settle into some semblance of a routine. He’d be occupied enough keeping her safe from the men who hunted her. He prayed they’d show up here. The corner of his mouth tightened. They wouldn’t much like their reception. He ground his back teeth so hard, he thought he cracked one. His preacher’s softness had long vanished. He’d learned from his outlaw friends how to make someone sorry they’d been born.
Also, he had his land office to run, and it seemed like new folks were arriving every day. He meant to speak to Clay about clearing the rubble from the back entrance to town. A few years ago, as a matter of defense, they’d blown the rocks and collapsed the passage, but it was past time now to clear it and make the main street a thoroughfare. That would eliminate the clogs that often occurred at the single entrance and exit.
Adeline picked at her food and jumped at every loud noise.
“It’s all right.” Ridge started to touch her hand but didn’t want to risk making another mistake, so he stopped and just spoke softly. “Nothing to worry about, but we’ll hurry and get out of here.”
The flicker of a smile on her lips revealed her relief. He held her chair, and they moved to the door. Rain was coming down in sheets. He didn’t waste a second in removing his frock coat and putting it over her head. Thank goodness it wasn’t that far to the hotel. Once they reached the protection of the overhang in front of the businesses, they’d be fine.
“Ready?” he asked.
Her green eyes sparkled under the café’s lamplight, and he decided then and there that she was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. She nodded, and a bit of a smile formed.
Even though they walked fast, he was soaked by the time they reached the overhang and she handed him back his coat. She scowled at the way his wet shirt plastered to his skin and tried to pluck it loose.
“I’m fine.” His voice was quiet as he studied the worry lining her face. “I won’t melt.”
She gave her customary nod then lowered her gaze. The next second, she jumped at a peal of thunder and clutched him. He put an arm around her, just enough pressure to reassure her. “Let’s get you inside.” A light touch on her back guided her to the hotel doors and into the lobby.
Outside her room, Adeline turned to him li
ke she wanted to say something. When no words came, she lowered her gaze.
“Did you leave a light on so it won’t be dark?” he asked.
She provided a yes answer the only way she could.
“Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.” He waited for her to slip inside then went downstairs. The ride out to his house in the rain wasn’t appealing, so he sat in the hotel lobby to wait out the storm.
The chair offered far too much comfort, and he leaned his head back to rest his eyes. Sometime later, a gigantic boom shook the hotel, followed by piercing screams. He jumped to his feet, roused by the chaos. Lightning had struck! He took the stairs two at a time and banged on Adeline’s door.
The smell of smoke filled the hall. Ridge tried the knob. Locked. He kicked the door in and rushed inside the dim room. The smell of seared wood met his nose, and through the french doors could see the balcony smoking from what appeared to have been a direct lightning strike.
He covered his face with an arm to block the smoke. “Adeline, it’s Ridge! Where are you?”
The scuffle of shoes against the floor led him to a corner where her trunk sat open. Adeline was stuffing her belongings into it, her face pale.
“Leave that. This smoke’s getting thick, and we have to get out of here. I don’t want to scare you, but I’m going to pick you up now.”
Although visibly nervous, she reached for him. He lifted her up, and she slid an arm around his neck. She was still fully dressed, even down to shoes, which told him she’d probably been lying atop the covers instead of crawling into bed. Maybe she’d intended to sleep as she had in prison.
Out in the hallway, he glanced down at her small form, her face buried against his chest. A flood of tender feelings washed over him, filling a portion of his dark, empty places with light.
An angel with a broken halo. That perfectly described her.
It was too soon to know if he loved her, however, he intended to try. But Adeline—she didn’t know what a rotten deal she’d gotten in him. Who knew if he could ever learn how to be a proper husband?
“Where’s the smoke coming from?” A large man puffed, out of breath from hurrying up the stairs. Five more were behind him in various stages of undress or nightwear. All carried buckets of water.
“Inside this room on the balcony. So far just smoldering.” He tightened his hold around his soon-to-be wife.
Luke and Josie were waiting in the lobby and rushed up when they saw him. Ridge set Adeline on her feet, but she clung to his hand. “She’s all right. Lightning struck her room, but I didn’t see any damage other than smoke yet. They’re dousing it now.”
“Thank goodness.” Josie put an arm around Adeline.
“I’ll go check to see if they can move her to another room.” Luke strode to the desk and rang the bell. The clerk appeared from the back.
It didn’t matter if they had another room or not. Ridge had already decided to take Adeline out to their home, where he could watch over her. Besides, she didn’t seem inclined to turn his hand loose anytime soon.
They moved to a sofa, and he told her his idea. Her nod of agreement was all he needed.
When Luke returned with news that there were no other accommodations, Ridge told him the plan.
“But it’s raining,” Josie objected. “And you can’t get to her things until the men up there finish.”
He hadn’t given that any thought. “Adeline, is there anything you can’t live without until daylight?”
A headshake settled it.
“Sounds like the rain is letting up, and my place isn’t far.” Ridge removed his coat and buttoned Adeline up inside it, then grabbed an umbrella from the stand in the lobby. Soon they were headed beyond the lights of town.
Within twenty minutes, he parked the buggy in front of their home. The rain had slowed to a mere sprinkle, but puddles stood between them and the door. He swung her up and carried her over the water, depositing her in the dark entry.
“Wait here while I light the lamps.”
When he returned, Adeline was still standing there. She stared up at him with those shimmering green eyes. In the flickering light, they looked like bottomless pools. His heart skittered sideways like a frightened stallion, and he worked to speak. “Would you like something hot to drink?”
She indicated no, then turned and went to the little space she’d claimed beneath the stairs.
Ridge hurried to get a blanket and pillow. He found her inside sitting against the wall, her legs pulled beneath her. “If you’re determined to sleep here, take these. Anytime you want to come out, you’re welcome. All of this house is yours, not just this space.”
When he set down the lamp he carried, Adeline shook her head vehemently and tried to push it away.
“No, ma’am.” Ridge set his jaw. “I’ve given in to you on everything else, but you will have a little light in here. I insist. Just to banish the ghosts.”
He didn’t know if the sound she made was a huff or a resigned sigh. Maybe a little of both. At any rate, she scowled, taking the pillow and blanket.
“I have to go see to the horse. You know where the kitchen is if you’d like some water or anything.” He turned and left, leaving the door open.
In short order, he had the horse fed and warm in the barn, then returned to check on Adeline. The door of her little safe room was still open, surprising him. He’d have bet money she would’ve shut it, not trusting anyone. She was stretched out on the blanket, asleep. And wonder of wonders, the lamp still burned, casting a soft glow over the sleeping form on the floor.
Ridge went for the quilt off the bed and covered her. Then he kissed her forehead. He didn’t know what this new life of his would look like, but he’d try to give Adeline a happy home. A place where she mattered and was wanted. And maybe somehow in all this, he’d find his way through the darkness that lived inside him, shadows where no lamplight could reach.
Alone and dog-weary, he turned toward the parlor and the sofa where he would sleep.
* * *
Their wedding day dawned, plenty of warm sunshine to mark the occasion. Ridge drove his bride back to town and dropped her off at Tally’s house, since her hotel room was still scorched. Then he went to check on the condition of the bluff. As expected, it was muddy. He and the men went to work, covering the ground with hay.
“How did Miss Adeline do at the house?” Luke asked.
“Real good after we got a few things straight. She was in the kitchen cooking breakfast when I got up.” Ridge didn’t mention the tiny room under the stairs.
“Good. She’ll fatten you up.”
“What are you saying, Luke?”
His friend grinned. “That it’s damn good to have a wife. You need someone to take care of your bony rear.”
Clay and Jack Bowdre each pulled out a bottle and passed them around, along with a lot of good-natured ribbing. Ridge took one swallow, done for the day. He wouldn’t start off his marriage to Adeline on the wrong foot.
Figuring her out was going to take keeping his wits about him.
* * *
Adeline was a bundle of nerves about a great many things, but not where Ridge was concerned. It was herself she worried about. What man would want to stay with a mute wife? Conversing in written form was a terrible way to begin a life together. Before long, this silence would start to grate on him. It would on anyone. Then what?
Her gaze went to the white box on the table, her wedding dress inside. Josie had tried to talk her into a fancy dress of white satin, but Adeline had insisted on practicality and chosen this simple, spring-green frock, void of lace, frills, or a train. She’d relented on the short, lacy veil though.
After all, it seemed to be a rule for brides to cover their faces. Maybe it kept the groom from running as hard as he could until the woman had him caught good and proper in her snare.
Laughter bubbled up in her chest but stopped at her mouth, and the thought hit her that she’d made a joke. A smile curved her lips. It had been a very long time since she’d had a reason to be lighthearted, even for a second, and it felt darn good.
Her thoughts turned to Ridge, and memories of the previous night whirled in her mind. How strong and tender he’d been when he’d picked her up and carried her from the smoldering hotel room, and again at the house, across the mud puddles. The rain-scented land—fresh, clean—had clung to his clothes. It had been so very long since she’d smelled rain hitting the baked earth, the air giving off a hint of gingerbread. Yes, that was the fragrance she’d been trying to think of.
Memories stirred again of home, of her classroom, the students she’d taught. And of that fateful night when everything had gone horribly wrong.
So much blood.
Frantic cries for help. Pounding on her door.
Rough hands grabbing her afterward, horrible accusations—the judge’s sentence of three years in solitary confinement.
Her life stripped away. Everything gone, replaced with cold concrete.
The door rattled. She jumped, but relaxed when she saw it was only Josie coming in with a few of the women from town. As Josie made the introductions, Adeline watched their eyes, but never once saw them glance down or look away in discomfort. Each took her hand and welcomed her.
She especially liked Tally and Nora. They didn’t seem to notice her silence, and she thought maybe there could be some friendship budding there. Maybe that’s what Ridge meant when he’d written that everyone in Hope’s Crossing had a past and no one acted better than anyone else. She was going to like it here very much.
A section of one of Ridge’s letters popped into her head.
I have great plans for us, my dear Adeline. We can be a part of something lasting here that will stand for generations. Texas is changing, this land is changing, and I want to change with it. My way of life is fast disappearing, and that scares me, but we can have a bright future if we learn to adapt and grow. Take this journey with me, and maybe we can find what we both seek.