The Escape (3 page)

Rachel flinched and a sour look covered her face. “Fine. Comin’ up.” She trounced off toward what Betty figured to be the kitchen.

Observing this interchange, Cole’s lips parted and his eyebrows rose. “Beggin’ your pardon for my loose tongue,” he said. “But why didn’t ya just come out to Burrow Creek and stay with your sister? Why come here through Mrs. Cobblestone?” He stared at her hard. “Were ya just using me for the price of passage?”

“Mr. Bronson,” Betty declared, “as you can clearly see, I’m in need of a husband not money. Well, at least money wasn’t my motivation. Since my sister had good results with Mrs. Cobblestone, I assumed I could benefit from the same.”

Cole leaned on his elbow and sighed. “Does your sister know you’re here?”

“Not at present.”

“What? Did she even know you was comin’?”

“No.”

“Why in tarnation not?”

“I prefer to handle my own affairs, thank you very much.”

Little Eve laid her head on the table, and her eyes fluttered closed. Betty leaned toward her and patted her head. “You tired, young one?” She smiled with tenderness at the girl.

Cole gazed on his daughter and then at Betty. A look of yearning flashed briefly in his eyes, and then his expression hardened.

“I’m sorry for the confusion and your long trip. I would never have agreed had Mrs. Cobblestone told me—” he lowered his voice, “you was with child.”

Betty forced herself to remain composed. Later, she could fall apart, but not now. Not in front of Cole or in this public place. “How unfortunate for all of us,” she snapped.

She glared at him, completely unaware of how alluring she looked when her eyes sparked with anger. “So, I’m to understand there will be no wedding.”

Cole tilted his head and watched her. Eve stirred and shifted her head on her arms. He reached across the table and put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

“Perhaps it makes no sense to you,” he said quietly.

All of a sudden, Betty felt so fatigued and so overwhelmed, she could hardly keep her head up.

Not seeming to notice, Cole continued. He nodded to his daughter. “Her mother, my wife … well, she passed not too long ago.”

Betty tried to focus on the man and what he was saying, but his image blurred, and she blinked hard. He kept talking, and in her haze, she saw his lips continue to move, but she couldn’t make any words out.

“My wife died in childbirth. I just can’t take that chance again so soon.”

Betty’s head rolled to the side and the room tilted. Instant sweat covered her body, and she knew she was going to faint. She grabbed the edge of the table and held on.

“Betty?” Cole cried from what seemed a mile away. “Betty!”

She swayed and crumpled to the floor.

****

Betty awoke, lying on a wooden bench in a kitchen. Her eyes fluttered open to see steaming pans on a cook stove and jars of preserves lined up on a wooden shelf.

“Betty?” Cole hovered above her, concern etched in his face. “You all right?”

Betty stirred and struggled to a sitting position. A sharp pain pierced her lower back, and she moaned.

“You fell,” Cole explained. “It’s my fault.”

Betty’s head felt stuffed with cotton. “Did you push me?”

He frowned, looking alarmed. “Of course not. But I didn’t realize how plum wore out you was.”

He sat beside her on the bench, and she felt sheer strength radiating from him. Without thinking, she leaned against his arm and felt his muscles tighten.

She jerked upright, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I am completely done in. Please take me to my sister.”

He gave a solemn nod and stood. With unexpected gentleness, he drew her to her feet.

Turning his head, he called out into the café’s dining area. “Eve? You ready, honey?”

Eve scampered in and stood before Betty. “You sick?” she asked.

Betty shook her head. “No, dear. Just tired.” She felt an urge to continue talking with the girl, but she simply had no energy. All she wanted was to fall into bed somewhere and sleep for at least a month.

“Come on, Eve honey. We’re taking Miss Betty to visit her sister. You remember Lou, don’t you?”

Eve nodded and slipped her hand into Betty’s. Betty jerked with surprise as Eve’s warm fingers squeezed her hand.

“Yer gonna be my mama,” Eve said. “I heard Pa talkin’.”

Betty and Cole stared at each other. Cole cleared his throat. “We’ll talk about that later, all right, pumpkin?”

“I like Lou,” Eve announced, pulling Betty through the café and out to their waiting wagon. “She’s nice.”

“Yes, she is,” Betty agreed.
And hopefully, she’ll be nice to me when I show up unexpected and unannounced.

****

Betty gripped the edge of the wooden seat as the wagon jounced over the rough dirt road to Lou’s, and she prayed the bumpiness wouldn’t harm her baby. How did Lou abide this rutted path every time she went into town? Betty saw few farms along the way and marveled at the desolate landscape. Didn’t Lou have any neighbors at all? What a complete contrast to the crowded streets of Boston.

A homestead came into sight, and Betty saw a house, barn, and another outbuilding. Was this Lou’s place? Cole slowed the horse and turned into the lane. Betty sucked in her breath as she recognized Lou standing by a clothesline, a basket heaped with clothes in her hands. Her sister looked thin, but she had the same thick brown curls trailing down her back.

She watched as Lou shaded her eyes and viewed their approach. With a cry, she dropped the basket and ran toward them. “Is it you?” Lou called and let out a whoop, rushing to the side of the wagon. “Betty! What on earth!”

Lou jumped into the wagon and clasped her sister to her chest. “What are you doing here? Oh, I must be seeing things!”

Betty laughed and tears filled her eyes. “Louellen! I’m so happy—” She gasped and began to weep.

Lou released her, staring at her with huge brown eyes. “What’s the matter? Oh, Betty! What’s happened? Where’s Edmund?”

Betty fell against Lou’s shoulder. “He’s gone, Lou.”

Lou went stiff. “What? What do you mean,
gone
?”

“He’s dead.” Betty’s sobs racked the air. She looked at her sister through her tears. “He fell from his horse and was kicked.”

Lou scooted back, her face frozen.

“He’s gone, Lou.” Betty said again, wiping her eyes.

Next to her, Cole reached for Eve and jumped from the wagon with the little girl in his arms. “I’ll be in the fields with Jude,” he said abruptly and walked away.

“But that’s not possible,” Lou stammered. “He’s an expert horseman.”

Betty bowed her head and the tears fell to her lap.

“You didn’t write…” Lou said. “Why wasn’t I told?”

“I did write,” Betty said. “I guess you haven’t received the letter yet.”

Lou shook her head over and over. “No … no.”

“I’m sorry, Lou.” Betty looked at her sister and regret for her past rose up to choke her. She gasped and rubbed her throat with shaking hands.

“You’ve no need to be sorry. It wasn’t your fault.”

Betty took a shaky breath. “I loved him, you know. I did.”

Lou grabbed her hands. “Of course you did.”

“But it was wrong.”

“Betty—”

“You loved him first. I shouldn’t have married him.”

Lou’s forehead creased. “You didn’t have much choice. Grandfather insisted.”

“Edmund loved you best. I was second choice.”

Lou squeezed Betty’s hands. “Don’t say such a thing. That’s not true.”

Betty raised her chin. “But it is. And I knew it. But he was faithful to me, and he was a good husband.”

“Of course he was. And he loved you, Betty.” Lou tilted her head to look more squarely into Betty’s eyes.

“Yes. But still…” Betty shuddered. “And a person always has a choice. I’ve learned that these past days.”

Betty wavered on the hard wagon seat, and Lou put her arm around her. “Oh, what am I thinking? You’re exhausted. Let me help you down and get you inside.”

Betty nodded, feeling as if her entire body had gone numb. She allowed Lou to practically lift her from the wagon and into the house.

Inside, the front room was basic and sparse of furniture, yet even in her weakened state, Betty could feel the coziness. Lou installed her in a rocker next to the wood stove and ran to put a kettle onto the black surface. She took a tin mug from a shelf above the pump.

“I’ll have some coffee for you in a jiffy, and then we’ll get you to bed.”

Again, Betty nodded.

“Why did Cole Bronson bring you out? Was he passing by?”

Betty slumped back into the rocker. “He was to be my husband,” she murmured.

“What did you say?”

“Mrs. Cobblestone set it up,” Betty’s words slurred, and she closed her eyes.

“What?” Lou repeated, her voice louder. “And what do you mean
was
?”

“Doesn’t want the baby…” Betty muttered, her eyes still closed.

“What?”
Lou said for the third time.

But Betty heard no more, for she had fallen soundly asleep.

Three

Betty woke up in the dark. She lay motionless and listened to the stillness around her. Back in Boston, Edmund’s family’s house creaked and moaned during the night. More than once, she’d thought she’d heard someone passing in the hallway outside their room, but Edmund had told her the old house was settling—which always made her smile and snuggle more closely against his warm body. But there in Burrow Creek, all she heard was the hollow sound of crickets and an occasional low rumble from what she supposed was Lou’s cow. Never had she been in such absolute darkness. She listened more deeply, but heard nothing else.

The bed she lay on was firm and the blankets rough. She ran her hand over the bedclothes and felt the bumpy knots of thread tying the quilt together. Had Lou made this? Betty marveled at the thought. Lou had never taken to the feminine arts when she was in Boston. On the other hand, Betty had enjoyed such endeavors. Her embroidery had caused glowing admiration on more than one occasion.

Betty wondered about the hour. Was it close to morning, or was it still the middle of the night? She was thirsty. Her eyes scanned the darkness, hoping for a glimpse of a side table with perhaps a glass of water for her, but straining her eyes, all she could make out was the shadowy form of a window.

She felt much better than earlier—more like herself. She placed her hands gently over her stomach.

You okay, little one?

Cole’s rugged profile filled her mind. She remembered how he’d looked taking her to Lou’s. She thought of his grim expression and the haunted look in his eyes. Despite his cool demeanor, she felt curious, drawn to him in an odd sort of way. She turned onto her side and pulled the covers up under her chin.

Fact was, he didn’t want her.

But, oh, his little girl was beautiful. Poor thing. Betty wondered how much she remembered her mother. Quite a bit, she supposed. It hadn’t been that long since she’d passed.

Edmund, where are you? Do you see the mess I’m in?

What was she to do now? Perhaps there were other eligible men in Burrow Creek. Certainly, there were. After all, Mrs. Cobblestone hadn’t had much problem finding her a man.

Cole Bronson.

You could have given me a chance.

Betty sighed. Strangely, her mind roamed to a horse auction she’d attended once with Edmund. She’d been one of the few women there, and she’d been highly interested and entertained as the horses were paraded around the ring vying for bids. But watching the rejected, unpopular ponies had troubled her. Would they ever find new homes? Would anyone want them?

She sucked in her breath.

Am I comparing myself to a horse?

She squeezed her eyes shut.
Am I hoping someone will bid on me?

****

Betty must have fallen asleep again, for the next thing she knew, there was a rustling from the main room. A crack of light seeped under her door, giving the items in her room more recognizable shapes. She saw coats hanging from pegs along the wall to the side of the door and there was indeed a small table next to the bed. On it was a basin and a pitcher and what appeared to be a folded towel.

She reached over and touched it. The cloth was surprisingly soft.

A low murmur of voices reached her ears. Lou was up. And so was her husband—Jude Walker, whom she’d never met.

She threw back the covers and got up. Looking down, she noted she was wearing the nightgown she’d brought from home. Lou must have helped her change the night before; although, she had no recollection of it. She glanced around for her robe, but not finding it, she pulled the blanket folded at the end of her bed around her shoulders. She padded across the cool wooden floor, opened the plank door, and went into the main room. She blinked twice, adjusting to the soft yellow light from the two lanterns—one on the table and one on the counter beside the large basin near the pump.

Lou’s brown eyes widened. “Betty! You’re up!”

Betty smiled at her sister and then looked at the tall, lanky man beside her. His light brown hair swished over his forehead, and the back was long enough to touch his collar. He grinned widely and stepped forward.

“So you’re Lou’s sister.” He offered his hand, and she responded by offering hers. His shake was warm and enveloping.

Betty liked him immediately.

“I’m so happy to finally meet you,” Betty said.

“Likewise. But no use you gettin’ up so early. I’m just fixin’ to do chores. You can sleep another hour or two, easy.”

“I’m feeling quite rested, thank you,” Betty said.

“Would you like some coffee?” Lou asked her. She bustled to the steaming pot on the stove and picked it up with a quilted pot holder. “I’ll get it for you.”

Betty pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “You’ve both already dressed. I feel a bit foolish in my nightgown.”

“We’re family,” Jude said. “Besides, I’m leavin’.”

He took Lou in his arms and gave her a firm kiss. Then just as quickly, he put on his cowboy hat and was out the door.

Lou giggled. “Love that man.”

“I can see that,” Betty said, ignoring the twinge of envy that darted through her.

“Sit down, Betty, and I’ll get you some eggs and potatoes.”

Betty laughed. “Seeing you cooking is enough to make me faint dead away.”

“I know.” Lou joined her laughter. “Nearly made myself faint for months. And please, don’t you dare ask Jude how my cooking was those first few weeks.”

Betty pulled a heavy wooden chair from under the table and sat. “You look good, Lou. A bit thin perhaps, but good.”

Lou set down the iron skillet. “Thank you. I am good.”

Betty stared at her. She noted the flush that crept up Lou’s neck and touched her cheeks. She noted the sparkle in her eyes. And she had noted the extra bounce to her step.

“You’re with child.”

Lou did a small jig. “I think I am!” She rushed over to Betty and plopped into the chair beside her. “I’m so excited, I’m ready to burst!”

Betty clasped her sister’s hands. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Our babies can grow up together. Close cousins. Won’t it be wonderful?”

Betty’s throat tightened. “But Lou, I may have to go back.”

“Go back?” Lou’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean, go back?”

“Cole Bronson doesn’t want me.”

“Cole Bronson is a fool, and I told him so.”

Betty’s mouth dropped open. “You did what?”

“Last evening before he left. I gave him an earful.”

“You didn’t!”

“I did. I told him he was a fool to let you go.” Lou tossed her head. “I made sure Eve didn’t hear me, of course. No use her thinking her pa is a fool.”

“Lou!”

Lou leaned close. “But Betty, tell me, why
did
you come?” She held up her hand. “Don’t misunderstand me, I’m so glad you did, but why? I thought about it last night, and it makes no sense. You nearly had a conniption when I decided to come west.”

Betty’s breath seeped out. “I know I did, and I’m sorry.”

Lou waved her hand. “So, why did you come? Why didn’t you stay in Boston with Edmund’s mother and have your child. Or why not go back to Grandfather’s house? You always were his favorite, you know.”

“Garrett wanted to marry me. He was forcing the issue.”

Lou’s head jerked back. “Garrett? Oh, no!”

“Oh, yes.”

“But what did Grandfather say? Surely, he defended you.”

Betty stared at her. “You can guess better than that.”

Lou shook her head. “No, no, no. I’m so sorry, Betty.”

“You and me both.”

“Well, that explains it. And you can’t go back. You simply can’t—I won’t allow it. Besides, I finally got you here, and I’m keeping you! You will live with us.”

Betty scooted back in her chair. “No. No, I won’t do that. There isn’t room for three adults and two babies in this house.”

Lou opened her mouth to speak, but Betty rushed on. “I don’t mean anything by that. Your home is wonderful. But it wouldn’t work, and you know it.”

Lou took a moment before responding. “Things are different here. Different from Boston. We make do with much less, and it’s all right. Truly. You’ll see. There
is
room for you here. Wait till you see how crowded other homes are. Why, one family has seven children in smaller quarters than this. Besides, there is always room for you in our house. No matter what.”

Tears welled in Betty’s eyes and she looked away, trying to regain her composure. Finally she spoke, and her voice was just above a whisper. “Thank you, Lou. More than I can express. Thank you.” She dabbed at her eyes and turned back to gaze at Lou. “But still, I hope to make my own way here. Somehow.”

Lou let out her breath in a whoosh. “Life’s hard here. It’s good—but hard. I don’t see how you can make your way here alone. I’m not trying to be discouraging, but I just don’t see how. There’s simply no way to make a living. We already have a teacher and a café. There’s nothing more for a woman on her own. Especially a woman with a baby. You’ll stay with us. Jude and I already discussed it.” She gave Betty a warm smile. “It will be like old times. You and me under the same roof.

“Like old times?” Betty said and looked around herself. “Yes, I see that. Exactly like old times.”

The two of them burst into laughter, and Lou got up to prepare the eggs.

****

Betty was outside, acquainting herself with the farm when he arrived. She heard the beat of horse hooves, and thinking it was Jude returning from town, she emerged from the back of the barn. Her lips parted with surprise when she looked up into the face of Cole Bronson. She stared into his dark chestnut eyes, noting that he seemed equally surprised to encounter her—at least out there by the barn.

“What are you doing here?” Betty asked.

He set his hands on the horn of his saddle and gazed down at her. She couldn’t help but note the way his hair curled at the back of his neck or the way his shoulders strained beneath his shirt. He seemed to take up all the space around her, and she found herself breathless. She shuddered, although grateful that her childhood training stayed true and kept her from appearing as flustered as she felt.

He slid down from the saddle and stood before her. “Came to check on you.” His voice was gruff, and he appeared annoyed—with himself or her, she wasn’t sure.

She drew herself up, yet even so, she barely reached the height of his chin. “As you can see, I’m fine.”

He tipped his head and kept his eyes on her. “Glad to hear it.”

She took a step back, her discomfort in his presence increasing. But why should she feel uneasy—he’d made it perfectly clear he wanted nothing to do with her. Yet, here he was.

An awkward silence fell between them, and Betty fidgeted with the delicate lace at her wrists.

Finally, she spoke. “Don’t see how my well-being is your business anyway.” She pressed her mouth shut—she hadn’t intended to speak so sharply.
So much for my training.

His eyes narrowed, and for a split second she thought he would become angry, but instead, he grinned. “Maybe
you
don’t see how,” he said, drawling out his words, “but I did bring you out here.”

She tossed her head. “Makes no matter to me. I’m glad to visit my sister.”

“Well, then, I guess I done you a favor.”

She bristled at that but was determined not to show it. “You mean, you
did
me a favor.”

She blanched, mortified that she had corrected his grammar. What was the matter with her? She was being rude and uncultured.
Since when did I become the keeper of grammar?

He laughed. “
Did
or
done
, you understood me fine.” He leaned toward her and raised his hand. She flinched, as he brushed a curl from her cheek.

“What was that? You think I was gonna strike you?” he asked, his voice incredulous. “What happened back in Boston? Your husband beat you?”

Betty’s face went hot. “My husband was a fine man! He never raised a finger against me!”

“Well, someone did,” Cole said, his gaze boring holes in her.

She snatched her skirts up and turned abruptly from him, hurrying back into the house. She burst through the door and leaned against it, her chest heaving.

Lou looked up from the stove and stared. “What’s wrong? Chickens escape and give chase?”

Betty worked to calm her breathing. Then with deliberate decorum, she carried herself to the rocker and sat. “No. Cole Bronson came by.”

Lou’s eyebrows rose, and she scurried over to peer out the window. “I don’t see him—he’s gone. I can’t believe I didn’t hear him ride up. Why didn’t you ask him in for a cup of coffee?”

Betty glared at her sister. “Why didn’t I? Because he’s insufferable, that’s why!”

Lou’s eyes widened and a knowing look covered her face. “I see.”

“You see
nothing
,” Betty snapped. She got up and swished off to her bedroom where she shut the door with a decided snap. She was breathing hard again, and she sank to her bed.