Читать книгу The Outlaw of Cedar Ridge - Lori Connelly - Страница 6

Cedar Ridge, Idaho – Spring 1891

Her eyes popped open. In the darkness that enveloped her, Evie Rolfe swallowed hard. Sometime during the night, her lamp had died and left the young woman alone. Her fingers tightened into a white knuckled grip around the rifle while she listened for anything unusual. She didn’t dare move, waiting untold minutes, locked in fear until light trickled through the cabin’s only window.

While the ebony grayed and the shadows faded, she gained a measure of courage. Evie scanned the modest room in search of what had woken her. A simple chair sat beside her in front of the stone fireplace. Cast iron pots and a frying pan were stacked on the hearth by short rounds of pine. Along the walls was a long low bench with towels folded neatly on top, a four-drawer dresser, a metal pail then a bed in the corner. Nothing appeared out of place so far.

Nervous, Evie twisted so she could look at the wall behind her. A gap in the window curtains allowed a glimpse of the crimson sky. The crudely made wood table remained snug against the door with the oil lamp in the center. To the right of that, her cloak and a large tan wicker basket hung side by side. A rough broom she’d fashioned stood propped in the corner. Relief seeped through her, and the breath that she’d held released.

Evie sagged against the chair her grandfather had made. Her left hand lifted, rubbed over her face, then lowered to slide palm down over a scarred, oak arm. Loneliness, a muted ache, haunted. The worn rocking chair was all she had left from her family. She sighed softly, almost without sound.

A distinct thud carried through the log walls. Her short-lived calm vanished. Blood raced through her veins. Heart in her throat, Evie gathered the edges of the quilts close around her. Slow, cautious, rifle cradled to her stomach, she pushed up to her feet then turned to face the window.

A minute passed. Then another. Evie heard nothing, saw nothing. She drew in a breath and stepped close to the glass pane. With the rifle muzzle, she pushed the washed out material aside. Her gaze found the source of the sound, what had likely woken her, right away. Fear evaporated.

Drained, her grip loosened. The blankets slipped, sagging around her waist. Anger whispered. Evie turned around and, jaw clenched, stalked to the fireplace. She hung the weapon back on the hooks above the mantle where it belonged. The hard packed dirt floor chilled her bare feet, hastening her pace as she moved to the corner.

Beside the empty bed, Evie stilled, stared at it for a few seconds, her lips compressed into a hard thin line. With a snap of her wrists, she spread the thin patchwork quilts over the mattress. Sadness, resentment and frustration crashed over her in waves as she pulled her nightgown over her head, tossing it on the covers. Goose bumps soon dotted her skin. In quick, jerky movements, she donned stockings, undergarments, a faded blue long sleeved shirt and a brown ankle length skirt.

Another thud sounded. Evie ground her teeth. She sat down on the bed and pulled on well-worn black boots. Her hair fell across her face in the process. Exasperated, she plucked her hairbrush off the wall where it hung by a leather thong.

With the ease of long practice, she swiftly tamed her waist length dark brown hair into a single thick braid that hung down her back. Evie stood and slapped the brush back in place. Her hands shook as she stomped over, and shoved the table away from the door.

Orange and pink stained the clouds on the horizon when she stepped outside. Tall pine trees populated the landscape to her right, a sea of green as far as the eye could see. On her left lay the road to town and a couple of small cleared fields. Daisy, her cow, called out, impatient. Four hens scratched the grass for bugs. Evie noted it all, but focused on what brought her out at dawn.

A mare, all black except for a short white stocking on each leg stood just outside the barn. Its open door swung in the gentle wind. It hit against the wall, and again created the sound she’d heard while inside. Evie hissed through clenched teeth, irritated, moving with swift steady strides to the horse.

Her temper simmered as she led Sugar into the fenced area attached to one side of the barn. Evie stripped off the mare’s tack, and propped the saddle against a fence post. With bridle in hand, a pat and promise of oats later, she headed to the barn.

Evie stepped into the shadowed interior of the weathered structure. While her eyes adjusted to the low light, she took a couple of hesitant steps forward, one hand on the interior wall for assurance. She hung the bridle where it belonged then moved on.

It didn’t take long before she found him near Sugar’s stall, sprawled face down on some loose hay.

For a second, intense emotion seized her. Evie shook with the force it. Although the desire to turn around and leave held strong appeal, she just couldn’t do that. She knelt down beside him, leaned in and whispered his name. He didn’t react. With both hands, she shook him, calling his name with force. As she half expected, Ben still didn’t respond.

Evie got to her feet and with some effort, rolled him onto his back. Shaggy brown hair fell across his face. She crouched down, reached out and swept the mass to one side. His familiar features stirred up a storm of conflicting emotions.

Tears burned her tired eyes. It’d been some time since they’d been affectionate, intimate and, unable to resist, her fingers ran down the side of his neck, a light caress. Scratches and purple bruises marred his skin. Her hand came back up to rest her palm on his cheek. As upset as she was, Evie savored this simple physical contact.

Caught up in the moment, his groan startled her. She gasped. A hand came up, covering hers. His eyes opened and sorrow pierced her. The amazing forest green eyes that had captured her fancy years ago were so bloodshot that it was painful to witness. A crooked smile spread across his face.

“Hey doll.” His voice was low and rough, yet almost playful.

Strong whiskey fumes slapped Evie, sparking her temper. She reared back as if physically struck. His hand dropped to his side when she pulled away. Words she’d mulled over for months were on the tip of her tongue, about to explode from her when she noticed he’d passed out again. An incoherent sound of pure frustration passed her lips.

Fuming, Evie started to rise, and then noticed a small bag at his side. She leaned over, picked it up and the weight made her stomach churn with nausea. Her hand opened, dropping it on the ground, its contents spilling out. There was no honest way for him to have that amount of coin.

Evie Rolfe sat back on her heels and looked at the mess that was her husband.

Ben’s shirt, ripped and stained, offered further evidence he’d been in another fight. It was hard to believe her husband had become this man. As she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, her mind drifted to the past, longing for the man of her memories.

One hot August night five years ago, a stranger had walked into a dance at her church. His stance radiated confidence. A crooked nose sat in a face of raw, rugged features that intrigued her. And as soon as he saw her, the man strode directly to her.

Easily towering over her by several inches, with broad shoulders and a wide, well built chest, he instantly made her feel protected.

“Dance with me.” His eyes, the deepest of green, charmed her. Her heart pounded. Without even asking his name, she’d given him her hand, captivated. In his arms, from the first moment, she’d felt a profound sense of belonging.

Daisy voiced loud displeasure, snapping her back to the present. Frustrated, Evie ignored the cow, instead reaching out to shake Ben awake and then stopped herself. She knew from experience that a few hours rest increased the odds that her husband would actually listen to her and last night’s events had made it clear that she needed him to hear what she had to say today. Terrifying memories snaked through her mind. Her hand shook as it hovered between them for a moment then dropped. The day had just begun. She’d let him sleep.

Evie stood, grabbed an old gray wool blanket they had for the horse, covered Ben with it and took one last look at him before going off to care for Daisy. Sun streamed in through the doorway, warming her while she milked. She had a difficult time focusing on the task though as her gaze kept wandering back to Ben.

The bond between them, frayed and strained, was not yet broken. Their damaged relationship left her emotions in a mess, and she couldn’t stop her thoughts from circling around the conversation to come.

When she turned the cow out to graze, the cloudless sky for once failed to boost her spirits. She continued with her chores, checking on Ben occasionally, but misery dogged her. The morning hours passed slowly. Desperate to stay busy she grabbed some laundry and headed down to the creek.

A pair of ravens glided in the cool breeze above her to perch on the upper branches of a maple tree. Evie knelt by the water, reached into the basket drawing out a red and black checked shirt. Tears began to well. Eyes closed, she buried her face in the flannel, breathing in the scent of pine and Ben.

She wondered how it was possible to miss a person with every fiber of your being when that person shared your home, your bed.

After a moment, Evie set the shirt aside and pulled out the rest of the washing. Her fingers, soon reddened from lye soap and aching from the icy water, brought painful but welcome distraction. Faint sounds of movement carried towards her on the breeze as she wrung the excess water from heavy wool. She looked up toward the cabin and caught a glimpse of her husband’s familiar form before he disappeared into the cabin. Although she wasn’t looking forward to his reaction, her conviction remained solid. The time had arrived for a tough discussion.

Nerves stretched taut, she waited for him to come to her.

Clear blue sky peeked through tree boughs that provided a generous amount of shade. She had rinsed her last item for several unnecessary minutes when the dull thuds of footsteps broke the peace. When he sounded close, she glanced back. The sight of him walking through the shadows of the trees caused a sweet flash of memory.

Ben had coaxed their wedding party outside that glorious spring day, with everything green or blooming. His good humor infectious, he’d claimed that nature’s beauty would bless their marriage. Eager to take on the world, life to him had been a grand adventure. As she walked to where he waited with the minister, beneath a canopy of branches, she’d fallen in love with him even more.

Ben stepped out of the shadows. The bittersweet echo of what had been faded. The years had fashioned clear changes. Scarred by hardship, his current expression was typical of the man she lived with now, hard and defensive. Pale from a certain hangover, his steps slow and measured, the contrast to the past wasn’t kind.

“Hey.” His voice was low and tense as he greeted her, stopping about a foot away.

Her fingers curled up in the soaked material she’d been washing. Ben stood so close if Evie stretched out an arm, she’d touch him. Emotions twisted in a knot, each breath shallow, painful, her head throbbed. She felt every inch of the small but deliberate distance he placed between them. The wounds of recent years were raw and her anger at his absence the previous night so fresh that for a second she had a childish urge to ignore him.

Instead, knowing that would solve nothing, she lifted her chin. “Benjamin,” she acknowledged, stating his name stiff and formal.

“I’m sorry.”

His gaze focused past her, his tone flat, the muttered apology didn’t move her. Evie looked down at the shirt in her hands. She twisted it, wringing out water. “No, you’re not.”

“You’re upset.

“Shouldn’t I be?”

Silence, heavy and expectant, hung between them. She didn’t offer her standard angry accusations or tearful pleas. They hadn’t made a difference before. The pattern remained the same. Her husband refused to alter it. She looked back up at him. Now, for better or worse, things would change.

Ben shrugged. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I mucked out the stalls.”

“Good.”

“And put the saddle in the barn.”

“Fine.”

“Brought in some firewood.”

“Okay.” Impatient, irritation crept into her voice.

“What do you want from me?” His gaze met hers for a split second before looking off into the distance again. “ You want me to say I’ll stop drinking?”

“No.” Ben looked back at her, his eyes wide, shocked. Pleased to have his complete attention, Evie was blunt. “I want you to not drink yourself into a stupor whenever life gets a little hard.”

“A little hard,” Ben bit out.

“Yes, like when we lost-”

“I’m not talking about our son now.”

Evie held his gaze, silent, until the ache in her chest subsided. “I wasn’t referring to James.”

“Good.”

“I meant when the Blakes’-”

“Stole my horses.”

“Well, you did catch them on their ranch and-”

“I didn’t know I was on their land.”

She gave him a soft-spoken reassurance. “I know.”

“Months of hard work gone.”

“I know.”

“Then you should understand.” Anger made his words harsh.

“I know it’ll be a struggle to recover, but it’s doable.”

Ben snorted. “Impossible.”

“As long as you continue down the path you’ve chosen, I agree.”

“What do you mean?” Tone wary, his eyes narrowed.

“Well, for one thing, you shouldn’t cheat our neighbors.”

“Excuse me.” His face a study of outrage but in his voice notes of defiance and satisfaction rang clear.

Evie stood. “You sold Spice.”

“We needed the money.” His gaze shifted, wouldn’t quite meet hers.

“You didn’t say he was only green broke and needed more training. That horse was nowhere near ready for a young rider to handle.”

He lifted one shoulder. “Let the buyer beware.”

A sick feeling settled in her gut. Evie shook the shirt she held out hard. To have a moment, steady her thoughts, she moved over to where the rest of her wet clothes hung and threw it over a free branch to dry. She drew in a breath then turned to face him again.

“Eddie Talbert was thrown.”

His face impassive, Ben didn’t say a word, showing no remorse. Her heart sank, but hope died hard and Evie prayed that some remnants of the man she’d married lay hidden under that brittle shell.

“He broke his arm.”

“He didn’t die.”

Stunned, she couldn’t hide her shock. “Ben.”

“What? I should feel sorry some little rich boy took a tumble?”

“Yes, you should, and accept responsibility for your part in it.”

“I didn’t put him on the horse.”

“No, but you didn’t tell-”

“Drop it.” His tone was now stone cold.

Evie held her temper in check, just. Her fingers curled so her nails bit into her palms. “Some of Talbert’s hands were here last night.”

“Oh?” He angled his face away. “What did they want?”

“A pound of flesh? I don’t know exactly but I think you should return Mr. Talbert’s money.”

“Too bad.”

“Ben they were six men - angry, armed, men. Nothing I said satisfied them. I went in the house, shoved the table in front of the door while they rode around outside shouting threats.”

“Just trying to frighten you.” Ben dismissed her words with a wave of his hand.

Her jaw dropped. She’d been scared out of her mind with good cause. Their homestead was a good hour from the town of Cedar Ridge, the nearest neighbor miles away, unspeakable things could happen to a woman alone out here. Ben knew that.

“Well, it worked. I was terrified long after they left, sat up all night with the rifle in my lap.”

“So you were fine.”

Her body went rigid with indignation. “I was not fine.” Her words were slow and precise, each one distinct. “You should have been home. I needed you.”

“I can’t be here to baby you all the time.”

“I don’t expect that.” Anger as bitter cold as the snowmelt fed creek she stood beside knotted her insides. “But when you kick up a hornet’s nest, you should face the consequences.”

“Fine, you made your point.” The cold, hard words, delivered without a trace of regret, shook her to the core. “I’m leaving. I’ve work to do.”

“Like you did last night? Tell me, what sort of horse training is done after dark?” Bitterness, sharp and painful, seasoned her words, crafted to provoke him.

“Don’t start in again.” His gaze locked on hers. “I have to support us.”

“There are other ways.”

“Which I tried, and they earned me a tiny cabin and an almost empty barn. There’s no reward for being good, doll.”

“How about honor and self respect?”

“I’d rather have the coin.”

“If you’re so pleased with this way of life why do you need to soak yourself in whiskey?”

I need a drink or two to unwind.”

“You were full as a tick when you finally came home.”

“That’s my business.”

Her jaw clenched. Evie looked down and brushed a bit of dust off her skirt. A breeze caressed her face, bringing the scents of moss and recent rain. “I don’t want to argue.”

“Good.”

“But-”

“Evie for the love of-”

“But.” Her tone unyielding, she paused, looked up, meeting his gaze squarely then continued. “Things have to change.”

“Like?” His voice sounded dangerous, a confrontation itself.

“No more lying, cheating and-”

“That’s the way of the world sweetheart.”

His sarcasm stung. “It’s wrong.”

“I do what I need to do and I will again,” he growled with conviction.

The day after Evie married, her brother and only living relative, Henry, had taken off in search of gold. She’d never heard from him again. Ben was all she had. It took no small measure of courage to stand firm.

“I won’t stand by and watch it anymore. You’re hurting these people.”

“Well, you don’t have to.”

“You’ll stop?” Hope laced her voice.

“Of course.”

His voice, silky smooth, disturbed her. “That’s a sudden change of heart.”

“Maybe.” Ben moved close. “I only want … ” His hand reached out and played with a loose strand of her hair. “To make you happy.”

The gesture reminiscent of their early days, when simple, affectionate touches were common, made her heart ache. Evie blinked back tears. The back of his fingers left a trail of tingling nerves across her cheek. She allowed it, savoring the moment then stepped back.

“I get the feeling you don’t believe that.” His voice sounded hoarse, shaded with mockery. She shook her head, unable to speak. He’d traded on her love too many times before and her trust was frail.

“Fine, you won’t have to worry about our poor neighbors any longer because we won’t be here. It’s time we moved on.”

Anxiety made it hard to breathe. The thought of starting all over yet again was almost unbearable. “No.”

“What?”

“I’m not moving.”

“Don’t be foolish.”

“I’m not.”

His head tilted slightly to one side, he studied her. “Do you want to see me arrested?”

“For gambling?”

Ben held her gaze but didn’t say a word. The sick feeling she’d tried to ignore for so long threatened to overwhelm her. She sensed he was waiting for her to ask, to bring things out in the open.

“The sheriff suspects you of something?”

“After last night, it’s just a matter of time.”

“What did you do?” Disappointment tasted like ashes in her mouth.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

His tone set her teeth on edge. “Of course not.”

“Good then-”

“If this is how you want to live then it’ll be without me. I want no part of it.”

“But I’m your husband.” His expression incredulous, he stared at her as if she’d grown horns.

“Yes, I know.”

“Do you know what would happen if I abandoned you? Do you really want to find out how vulnerable a woman alone is?”

“I already have.” The dreadful pressure around her chest increased. She crossed her arms over her stomach. “Last night.”

Silence stretched between them. For a long moment, the only sound came from the wind blowing through the branches of a straggly oak tree near her. Despite the warm spring day, she shivered.

“Look, Evie I … I’m sorry about that.”

Though his words felt sincere when he stepped toward her she put one hand in front of her, palm out. “Please don’t.”

“All right.” Ben stilled. “Just hear me out. We’ll start fresh. We’ll-”

“Own land as far as the eye can see and you’ll build us a grand home? I’ve heard this before.”

“It’ll be different this time.”

Evie fought the urge to cry. “Like it was supposed to be when we lost the boarding house in Montana, the saw mill in Salmon or the little farm right outside Cedar Ridge?”

“I’ve learned from my mistakes.”

“You were passed out in the barn a few hours ago.”

“What do you want me to do?” His hands clenched at his sides and his voice sounded edgy.

“Stop lying to me. Stop cheating people. And please, please stop doing whatever it is you’re doing that has the sheriff asking questions and is driving you to drink. Remember your dreams? Riding the range in the Wild West? You could make that happen. We have good land. We could have a good life here if you’d just-”

“I can’t chase those dreams here.”

“You won’t know unless you try.” Her tone fierce, Evie scowled at him.

“We have to move.”

“Don’t give up, please Ben.”

“We don’t have a choice anymore.”

“Yes, we do.” Tired and cranky, Evie snapped. “I do.”

“I sold it.”

Her vision blurred. A headache pulsed to life, pounding behind her eyes. “You did what?”

“I sold it.”

“Our home?” Her voice trembled, a whisper, barely audible. Dazed, she stared at him. “How could you do that?”

“I did what I thought was best.”

“Without even discussing it with me?”

“It had to be done and I didn’t want to argue.”

Tears clouded her vision. “You knew I wouldn’t agree.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s done.” The note of finality in his voice made her stomach clench. “We’re moving as soon as possible.”

Her poise precarious, it took her a second to respond. In a voice soft, but clear, she forced words out. “You are. I’m not.”

“You can’t stay here.”

“Yeah, you made sure of that.” Sick at heart, she averted her face, looking away.

“Evie-”

“I guess that explains the money.” A short burst of ugly laughter escaped her. “I should be relieved it came from a lawful source, shouldn’t I?”

“Sweetheart, I just-”

The gentle coaxing tone caused tears to spill down her cheeks. “No. Excuses.” She choked out, his attempt at softness now made her want to hit him. Pride kept her upright but she couldn’t take anymore. “Just go.”

Ben stood, studying her silently for a long moment then turned and walked away. Evie stiffened when she heard him pause for a few seconds a short distance up the trail. “I do love you.”

His words sparked a heated response. As the sound of his footsteps faded, Evie kicked the basket hard, sending it flying over the rocky bank. She snatched the flannel up and threw it in the creek with a hoarse cry. Her chest heaved. Tears streamed down her face. She collapsed on the ground and wept until it hurt to breathe.

When the emotional storm passed, Evie got to her feet, slow like an old woman. Her hands rubbed her temples as she tried to ease her vicious headache. She shuffled over to the creek, bending down to splash water on her hot face and her swollen eyes. As she straightened, she noticed the shirt she’d flung, tangled on a fallen log some distance downstream. She made no effort to retrieve it. The sweet connection she’d felt moments earlier had soured.

Dread stalked within as she headed back to the cabin. Her steps dragged. The steady breeze chilled her despite the bright sun. She swayed on her feet, exhausted, though it’d been a short walk to the simple log structure. Still and quiet, it seemed to reflect her loneliness.

Her gaze swept the area. As she’d expected, the pasture appeared empty. He’d left. Arms crossed, her hands rubbed over her upper arms.

Ben wasn’t coming back.

Worn, weary, she felt hollow inside.

All of a sudden, Evie heard shouting in the distance from the direction of the road. Her heart raced. She gathered her skirt up enough to run, dashed into the cabin, grabbed the rifle then peeked outside. No one had ridden in.

An ominous feeling settled in her gut. Warily, Evie stepped outside. Normal day sounds greeted her as she slowly scanned the surroundings. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Though she knew it wasn’t wise, she headed down the road.

A few hundred yards from the homestead, Evie stopped just around the first bend. Shock rooted her to the ground. Sounds evaporated, until only her heartbeat remained. Ben’s flattened hat rested in front of her boot next to a patch of new spring grass, splattered with blood.