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One
Alexandra Avery’sbody flew from the seat, her head slamming into the wall of the stagecoach so hard bright flashes of light blinked before her eyes. She shook her head, then cursed under her breath when she bounced again, closing her eyes as the other passengers screamed. The sound echoed in the small space, the noise—along with the head-jarring impact with the wall—caused streaks of white-hot searing pain to crawl inside her skull. The coopery taste of blood filled her mouth as she bit her tongue and she turned to the window, leaned out the opening and spit. She could only imagine what her pa would say to that unladylike display.
Pete, the stagecoach driver yelled a string of words no lady should be subjected to. Growing up around cowpokes and saddle-bums on the Avery Ranch, she’d heard worse and leaned further out the window to see what they hit. “You getting too old to drive this thing, Pete?”
He barked out a few rude words, then jumped to the ground. “Mind your manners, missy.” He gave her a cheeky grin before walking to the back of the stagecoach. “Damn,” he said. “I knew that wheel wasn’t going to make it.”
Alex opened the door and climbed down, regretting the decision the moment her feet touched the ground. The fancy silk boots her stepmother insisted she wears sank in two inches of mud, the hem of her dress dragging through the murky water before she could snatch it up. “Damnation. A week’s worth of washing won’t get that out.” She blew out a breath and looked at Pete. He was staring at the wagon wheel, shaking his head.
She’d spent the entire trip from Missoula so wrapped up in despair her stomach had begun to churn. This little reprieve was just what she needed. A minute to regroup, get her thoughts into order, and to steel her nerves. When the image of her father popped back into her head, she groaned.
Her fingernails had been chewed to the quick just imagining his angry face when he realized she not only went out of town without his knowledge but went behind his back to undo all the hard work he’d put in to set right the mistakes she’d made.
The uproar her hasty decision caused would be the talk of the town for sure.
Her internal misery was put aside as Pete cursed again and jerked the hat off his head, slapping it against his leg and dislodging the dust riding along the brim. “I told Frank that wheel wouldn’t last.” He glanced her way. “It’ll take a while to get this fixed.” He straightened and walked her way, his hand outstretched. Alex took it and let him help her from the mud. “We’re not far from Willow Creek,” he said, addressing everyone inside the coach. “Half hours walk, I’d imagine. You want to wait it out here until I get back with someone to fix this or walk in with me?”
There was a moment of silence, then everyone started talking at once. The ladies in the stagecoach were indignant at the thought of walking but the warm spring day had left the stagecoach stifling. A cool breeze would be a welcome comfort after the hours they’d spent cramped inside the coach and Alex didn’t wait for the others to decide before she started for town.
Pete and her traveling companions followed a few moments later. Alex cast a few glances across the prairie as their small party of travelers headed toward Willow Creek. It wasn’t uncommon for an occasional Indian to be spotted in the area and seeing them first would be the difference between getting out alive or being taken. Her aunt Sarah barely survived an Indian attack. Her uncle Colt gave them everything he had on him to keep her, even his horse and best boots.
The walk into town was uneventful unless you counted the complaining of the others in the group. Alex listened to every moan and whimpered complaint with half an ear, her attention on how her family would react when they found out her news.
By the time they reached town, sweat was running in small trickles down her neck to soak the front of her dress. This particular traveling frock had been a mistake. The material clung to her skin and the once pristine lilac silk was now wet, the fabric turning dark purple under her arms and breasts. Her hair was coming unpinned as well and she smelled worse than a cowpoke on a three-day ride.
As usual, the street and wooden sidewalks were filled with people, the hustle and bustle of everyone going about their day filled the air with noise. The squeak of wagon wheels, the heavy sharp ting of the blacksmith’s hammer hitting metal and the voices and laughter she heard were only a small hum compared to that of Missoula. Even though the town had grown over the years, it was nothing compared to the larger communities that surrounded Willow Creek. Two days in Missoula was enough for her to long for the slow shuffle of home.
She glanced toward the school and sighed. The new building was large enough to seat most of the town and doubled as a church on Sunday, but seeing it at the end of town was a constant reminder of how spectacular her past mistakes were. Mistakes she’d never live down if certain people in town had anything to do with it. One such person was looking down her nose at her now. Edna Pierce was marching across the sidewalk, her gate a bouncing clop as she barreled her way forward.
Alex acted as if she didn’t see her and headed across the dirt road that ran through town, ducking behind a wagon when she reached the other side as Edna continued to yell her name. Hiding was undignified but Edna was overbearing on an average day. Now that school was set to start in less than a month, she was even more so.
She took a peak across the street, blowing out a relieved breath when she saw Edna talking with Ellie, the stagecoach station owner. Disaster avoided, she grabbed her skirts and jumped back onto the sidewalk, realizing her quick escape from Edna only landed her right in front of calamity number two. Hugh Jacobs, the town’s new blacksmith—and, apparently her beau, according to her father—was headed her way. By the look on his face, he’d spotted her.
He smiled as he stopped, his gaze scanning her from head to toe and lingering in certain places longer than she liked. “Run into a bit of trouble?”
She sighed. “You could say that.”
His kind brown eyes shined with amusement. “Well, I hate to bring you more but Edna has been looking for you. She came by the shop earlier asking if I’d seen you.”
Alex glanced across the street to where Edna stood. “I’ve seen her. I managed to get away but I’m sure it won’t be for long.” She turned back to face him and smiled. “Not to be rude but I’d rather her not see me like this so I really need to go.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean to keep you.” He took a step to the left so she could pass and said, “Are you free this evening?”
Her stomach clenched tight. One look at the expectant expression on his face and she knew her father had been right. Hugh was actively courting her. How had she not seen it before now?
He’d caught the eye of more than one young lady since he’d taken up residence in Willow Creek and set up his blacksmith shop. He took notice to her the day she lassoed a runaway pig in the middle of town. He’d been impressed, and amused, and wasted no time approaching her. She’d been flattered and accepted his dinner invitation out of curiosity. He’d always wanted to learn to rope and ride so she’d took it upon herself to teach him. The dinner invitations kept coming after that and she’d kept on accepting. She considered him a friend, after all, and the occasional bouquet of flowers was a sweet gesture but it didn’t mean anything.
Or so she’d thought.
Now that her father had pointed out the obvious, she’d found herself nervous around him. Being courted by Hugh Jacobs wasn’t all that bad a prospect. He was nice looking and kind and he made her laugh on occasion but was she ready to marry and start a family? She was only twenty-three. She had plenty of time yet, didn’t she?
The way Hugh showed up at her door so often told her he may have other plans.
He was still staring at her, waiting for an answer to his invitation. She needed to make a decision where he was concerned. Either she was a willing participant in this courtship or she wasn’t. It wasn’t fair to keep him hanging on if nothing would ever come of it.
She had other things to worry about at the moment and courting and marriage wasn’t one of them. “I need to speak to my father about something so I’m sorry, I’m not free this evening.”
He smiled again but disappointment shadowed his eyes. “All right, then. Maybe some other time.”
