Chapter 7

I leaned against Jesse’s hard chest, letting my tears soak into his customary white shirt. My shoulders heaved and shook with every sob that overcame my body.

Weak. I feel weak, I thought to myself. 

Hannah always said to never let a man see you cry. They do not care, they do not want to know, they do not want to see it. 

There I go, not listening to Hannah once again. 

Jesse’s muscular arms were wrapped around my shoulders, his chin resting on my head. His hand rubbed my back soothingly. 

After a few moments, my crying wore down and I started to reluctantly pull away. We were in a compromising position. I cannot be going around with other men touching me. 

“What happened, Señorita? Did he hurt you?” Jesse asked me, his voice hard and velvety. 

“Wha-no. He did not hurt me… I just… I do not know what to do. He’s coming here after months and he wants to get married as soon as possible and he wants babies but I am not ready for babies and Jesse I cannot do this. I do not know him and I do not care about him enough!” I exclaimed, barely taking time to breathe. 

Jesse seemed at a loss for words. 

“I do not…Ella. I am sorry…” He said, obviously uncomfortable.

“No, no. I am sorry. I should not be telling you about this…I need to get over it.” I told him, stepping further away. My hands swiped furiously at the tears on my cheeks. I felt so embarrassed about what just transpired, crying all over a man who is just my friend and boarder. 

“Ella if you feel that bad about this then you should not do it. Forget the rules, forget your manners. You cannot live like that!” Jesse seemed to be getting visibly mad about this. 

“Jesse…I need to go. Thank you for being here but I’m sure Hannah needs my help. I’ll see you at dinner.” I told Jesse, already turning around to hurry out of the stable. As I slipped through the door, I looked back at Jesse one more time. He was watching me exit, his strong arms hanging loosely at his sides. 

After collecting myself in the foyer of the house, I joined Hannah in the kitchen. She was stirring a huge pot of pork and beans, occasionally stopping to wipe her brow. She greeted my with a smile.

“Need any help?” I asked her, leaning against the table.

“No, thanks. It’s almost ready. The whole group is gonna be at dinner tonight,” she answered, looking a bit weary. I felt bad for not helping her out more.

I sat down at the little table, listening to her talk about the pants I had seen her washing earlier. 

“That stain just would not come out, I don't even know what it was,” Hannah said, tasting the spoon. “I don’t know if I should return them to Ross or toss them out.”

“Who’s Ross?” I asked her. The name sounded familiar but I couldn’t place it.

“That’s one of the men staying with Jesse’s group. I couldn’t describe him to you, they all look the same…” She told me, trailing off as she tasted the spoon again.

“Oh,” I said. I couldn’t really think of much else to say about the pants. They're pants, for God’s sake. “You don't know what the stain was?” 

“No…Looked like dirt or some kind of food to me. Oh well. I’ll ask him later,” Hannah answered. She went back to stirring the beans, looking so serene and happy with her life that I felt tears well up in my eyes. I made my way over to her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, needing to be held by someone I considered a mother. 

Hannah laughed then hugged me back.

“What’s gotten into you, my dear? Too much sun?” She asked, feeling my forehead.

“Nope, just wanted to give you a hug. I’ll go take a look at that stain,” I answered, not wanting to start crying again in front of her. 

“Okay, dear. I’ll ring the bell for dinner in a few moments.”

I stepped into the adjacent laundry room. It smelled nice in here, like fresh flowers and bitter soap. I could see the light brown pants sitting in the washing sink.

I reached the sink, then fingered the dry part of the pants softly. They were made of nice material, but very worn, there was fraying at the hems. I located the stain, viewing it from various angles.

The stain looked familiar, like I had seen one like it before. I stroked the pants again, when a little memory hit me. 

I was ten years old, pestering my father as he cut through some wood for our fireplace. His axe swung through the air, splintering each log with efficiency. I asked him if I could ride a horse that belonged to one of our current boarders.

“No, Ella. It’s not my horse and you don’t know how to ride,” he answered, getting fed up with my begging.

“Yes, Daddy, I know that. But if you actually would let me ride it, I would learn,” I argued. 

“No. Riding a horse is too dangerous. Don’t ask me again, Ella,” my father said firmly. Horse riding was the one subject he wouldn’t talk to me about.

He bent down to pick up one of the splintery logs, then swiftly dropped it.

“Dammit. Splinter,” he told me, smiling and wiping his bloodied hand on his pants. 

Blood. That’s what the stain is. It’s a big stain, a lot of blood. I pulled the pants out of the sink, then snuck them up to my room, taking care not to let Hannah see me holding them. I draped them over the rocking chair by the window. I wasn’t sure what I was planning on doing with them, I just didn’t want Hannah to realize that it was blood. 

I went back down the stairs to the kitchen, arriving just as Hannah rang the bell. Jesse and all his men sat around the dining table, acting rowdy. They all seemed to tame a bit when Hannah and I entered, though. I took the open spot between Jesse and a man whose name I did not remember.

I dug into my beans, trying to ignore the loud talking around me. 

“How are you?” Jesse’s quiet voice broke my thoughts. He sipped a cup of water, brown eyes watching me from over the rim.

“Fine. I feel much better now,” I told him, trying to avoid meeting his eyes. I got the feeling that they would be able to see my lie. 

“Oh, is that so?” Jesse asked, a hint of amusement in his velvety voice.

“Yes, Jesse, it is so. Stop making this harder for me,” I shot back. “I appreciate the concern but I am completely fine.”

“No need to get angry, Señorita.” 

I sighed with resignation. 

“Sorry. Just frustrated with the situation,” I responded.

Our little conversation was interrupted by the man sitting next to me. 

“Jesse, you know when the laundry is gonna be done? I’m down to my last pair of pants,” he said. He had a grizzled beard but kind eyes.

“Nah, Ross. Ella here might know, though. Ella?” Jesse answered, nudging my shoulder a bit. 

“Um. You’re Ross. I have your pants in my room…I’ll bring them to your room tonight,” I told Ross, trying to ignore Jesse, who was looking at me with questioning eyes. 

“Well thanks little lady. I appreciate that,” he responded with a mouthful of beans. 

The conversation between Ross, Jesse, and I carried on. We talked about random things, and they both had me laughing by the time dinner was over. Ross had a raunchy, completely male sense of humor that I was entirely not used to, and Jesse had the wit that balanced it out. It was obvious how close they were by the friendly jabs they constantly exchanged. 

“And that’s how my boy Jesse here, got himself covered in beer, bruises, ’n horse shit,” Ross concluded his story, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. His laughter was contagious. 

“Alright, alright. I think you need to quiet down now, Ross. I’ve got much worse on you, amigo.” Jesse quipped, punching Ross on the shoulder good-naturedly. His face looked great when he smiled like that.

Ross must have noticed my confused face, because he leaned in to me.

“Amigo means friend in that little language of his. You pick up a bit of Spanish after bein’ around this here badman so often,” Ross said, pushing up from the table. “I’m gonna head upstairs to use the crapper,” he said loudly, tossing his napkin down onto his empty plate. “Thanks for dinner, Miss. Hannah.”

I looked down at my plate, mortified. I had never heard anyone so blatantly announce their intended bathroom activities, at the dinner table, no less. Despite the obvious rudeness, I couldn’t help but smile a bit. I bet Hannah was beside herself.

“Sorry about that, Señorita. He can be a bit…open,” Jesse muttered, obviously amused. 

His light brown eyes danced with humor unknown to me, stories that would never be told.

“It’s fine, actually. I appreciate the honesty,” I said, smiling at Jesse, hoping I looked as good as him doing so. I began picking up the rest of the dishes on the table. Only Hannah and my father and Jesse were still at the table. 

Hannah and my father looked to be in deep conversation. I couldn’t help but smile at how moony she looked, sitting there, talking to my father. I wished my father would just wake up one day and see that Hannah is hopelessly in love with him. I could tell how much she loved him by the way she looked at him, like he was this beautiful view she would never get tired of looking at. I never looked at Ambrose that way.

I looked away to see Jesse entering the kitchen, the rest of the plates stacked in his arms. While I would have wavered and possibly tripped holding such a large stack, he carried them with ease, setting them in the sink making no noise.

“What are you doing?” I asked him, gently pushing him away from the sink.

“Let’s see, what’s the word? Helping,” he responded. 

“Why? Don’t you have some sort of man activity to partake in?”

“Ah. That reminds me. I need to go roll in some mud. Chop some wood, too. Then I’m going to make the decision to never bathe again,” he responded sarcastically. 

I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise. 

“Is that so?” I asked, scrubbing at a plate. 

“Yep. But first, I’m helping you with these,” he told me, nudging me away from the sink as I had done to him moments earlier. “I will wash. You will dry,” he said, handing me a clean plate. 

I decided not to argue. It was fascinating to see a man actually doing ladies’ work. He seemed to know what he was doing, too. Put my father in that same situation and he would look like a cowboy stuck down there on the beach. Absolutely clueless.

“Speed it up Señorita, these hands can’t stop for anything!” He exclaimed jokingly, teasing me for my below average drying skills.

As I dried, I admired his tanned forearms dipping into the sudsy water. The water droplets clung to the golden skin whenever he handed a clean item to me.

“Where did you even learn to wash dishes?” I asked him, giving in to the curiosity. 

“My mamá. She stuck to her beliefs that men could be useful both in and outside of the house,” he answered, smiling affectionately. “She was a tough one.”

I tilted my head, watching his eyes twinkle at the mention of his mother. This woman was someone I needed to meet, teaching men to clean and all. Must be why Jesse’s room was so neat. 

“Where did you grow up?” I blurted out, hoping I didn’t sound too nosy. 

“Los Angeles. My family moved there after the Mexican-American war. Have you heard of that war?” Jesse responded. He was almost done with the dishes. 

“In passing, yes. I used to hear boarders talk about it when I was younger…My father would never really talk about it though. I suppose it isn’t good conversation for a lady to partake in.”

“My father fought and died in that war. My mamá was left to raise me and my sisters alone. Strongest woman I’ve ever known.” 

Jesse did not seem all that saddened about his father. I suppose he had to have been fairly young when his father died. 

“How many sisters do you have?” I asked him eagerly. 

“I have three sisters. They are all older than me, much to my displeasure,” he said. “Always a house filled with women, it was. My sisters and their friends, Mamá and her friends. It is a wonder that I turned out so manly, isn’t it, Señorita?” His eyes danced with humor at this.

“Are you sure you’re so manly, Jesse? After all, you are washing dishes,” I shot back at him, proud of my witty reply. 

Before I knew what was happening, Jesse’s hand shot out from the sink, flicking me with soap and water. 

My jaw dropped. I wiped my face with my sleeve, then stuck my hand right back in the sink to reciprocate his action.

This went on for a few minutes before we were interrupted by a throat being cleared. 

Our laughter immediately died out. 

“What are you two doing?” Hannah asked, her eyes a bit wide. 

“Oh. Um. Jesse was helping me do the dishes,” I answered rather unhelpfully. 

“Was he helping you do the kitchen, too? It’s a mess in here,” she said, looking around at the water splattered kitchen.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I will clean it up right now,” Jesse spoke up, reaching for the towel I had been drying the dishes with.

“No, no, dear. I will take care of it. Both of you, get out of here, before either of you break something,” Hannah answered nicely, shooting me a dirty look. 

I was going to be in so much trouble tomorrow. I could already hear the lecture I was going to receive. 

Jesse and I slipped out of the kitchen without another word. As we reached the staircase, we both looked at each other and smiled. 

I entered my bedroom without another word to him, shutting it and leaning against it softly. It had been such a long day. I was about to sit in the rocking chair when I noticed the pair of pants draped over it. 

I had completely forgotten about the pants. The bloodstain. The very large bloodstain. 

I picked them up, then approached the room that Hannah had pointed out as Ross’. 

I knocked lightly, silently hoping he wouldn’t be in there. 

“Well hey there, little Miss. Those my pants you got there?” Ross asked with a friendly smile. 

“Wha—oh. Yes, here. I wasn't able to get the bloo—the stain out. Sorry about that.”

“Aw, now that’s okay. They’re still wearable, right?” Ross said, taking the pants with another smile. 

“Um. Yes, of course. You have a good night, Ross,” I said, torn between running away in fear and staying to joke around. There were two sides to this man, I could tell.

“You too little lady,” Ross stated. “And Ella?” He said, causing me to stop halfway down the hall and turn around. 

He wordlessly dropped an eyelid into a wink, raising a tough finger to his lips.

Chapter 6

With every day that passed, I became more anxious about the arrival of Ambrose. I went from impatiently awaiting his return to nervously thinking about it every moment spent awake. Why am I so nervous? I should be excited. He is my fiancée, the love of my life. He is smart, handsome, and successful. What more could I want? 

“Ella! Focus on me, please.” Hannah’s exasperated voice ripped me from my terrible thoughts. She was holding out a box of clean laundry to me.

It had been over a week since I had learned of Ambrose’s possible visit, and every day the dread I felt in my stomach had grown more intense. Maybe it was my recent independence, or maybe it was Jesse’s probing, but I couldn't help but feel like Ambrose and I were not well-suited to be married, not so soon, at least. 

Jesse. Now that was a recurring thought, too. The more time I spent with him, the more I worried about him leaving. It was inevitable, he couldn't live in the boarding house forever. We would meet every day before supper in the barn to “check on” Shadow, even though it was obvious that Shadow was fine and we needn’t worry. Our conversations varied from silly to serious to small-talk, and they were what I looked forward to most now. 

“Sorry, Hannah. Lot on my mind today I guess,” I told her sheepishly, taking the box from her and resting it on my hip. 

“Anything you want to talk about?” She asked, looking quizzically at me as she hand washed a pair of pants I didn't recognize. 

“Um…No, I don’t think so. Nothing big. Just stuck in my head, as usual.” I figured this excuse would work, as I was known for that. 

“Alright then, dear. Why don’t you take that up to Jesse’s room? Those are his clothes. Don’t worry about putting them away, just leave them on the bed.” Hannah responded, attention already back to the laundry. She seemed to be paying close attention to a dark colored spot on the pants.

I left the room without another word, feeling a little jittery about going into Jesse’s room. He wasn’t going to be in there, obviously, as that would be improper, but it would be interesting to visit the room he sleeps in every night. 

After making my way up the stairs and down the hall, I reached Jesse’s room. It was the largest room available; situated further from my room than any other, it was right next to the boarders washroom. He had left the door unlocked. 

Pushing open the door, I immediately caught a whiff of a scent I had never smelled before. Hints of mint, spices, and sweat hit me swiftly, and I breathed in deeply again, enjoying the smell. 

The room was just as neat as it was before Jesse began staying in the room, maybe even neater. I set the box of clothes on his perfectly made bed, then opened the top drawer of the little chest residing next to the bed. I began placing the various articles of clothing neatly in the drawer. I finished this task quickly. 

I didn't want to leave the room. The smell, the furniture, the neatness all reeked of Jesse, which was a huge comfort to me. I aimlessly began shuffling the clothes I had just placed in the drawer, rearranging them. 

I stopped when my hand hit a hard, cool object. The shape was unfamiliar, I couldn’t tell what it was. My fingers closed around the object and pulled it out of the drawer. 

I almost dropped the object once I recognized what it was. A gun. I had barely ever seen one, let alone held one. I rotated my wrist around, looking at the gun from various angles. It had smooth dark wood and ornate metal trim. A gun typically wouldn't strike me as beautiful, but that was the only word for it that I could think of. It was heavy in my hand, almost too big for me to hold correctly. I turned the gun, looking into the barrel of it. I could feel my own head tilt. 

“What the hell are you doing?” A sudden voice interrupted my trance. Jesse.

His voice startled me, and I once again almost dropped the gun. I tried to hide the gun behind my back, even though it was obviously too late. Jesse has seen me holding the gun. 

He strode to where I was standing, pulling my wrist into his calloused hand. His long fingers gently extricated the gun from my hand, taking care not to hurt me or set off the gun. He slipped it into the waistband of his pants above his bottom. After making sure the gun was secure, he turned his hard face back to mine.

“Jesse, I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn't think that a gun would be in there… I was just trying to be helpful…”

“Ella, stop. It’s not your fault. But you have to know that you are never to touch that drawer again. If anything happened to you because of that gun I could never forgive myself. You never look down the barrel of a gun. If it accidentally discharged…”He trailed off, resting his tan hand on my slightly exposed shoulder. 

I had no idea what to say. I was still slightly dazed from holding the gun, it gave me a rush that I’d never felt before. His warm hand felt good on my goose-fleshed shoulder. I found it hard to meet his eyes, I was fairly embarrassed about the situation. 

“You have a gun, Jesse?” I questioned. 

“Yes, Señorita. Doesn’t your father?” Jesse responded, his face breaking out into a small smile. 

“Not that I know of…Should he?” 

“Well…He may have a different mindset than I do but there are valuables here. You’re here.” 

My lips parted at this. I knew I should respond, but I could not find the right words to respond. His words felt wrong but they felt so right. We both just stared at each other. 

“Um… I should go. I have more laundry to put away.” I finally said, breaking the heavy silence. I shrugged out from under his big hand, immediately feeling a chill where the warmth left. 

He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair, not saying anything. I grabbed the box that had carried Jesse’s clothes, then all but ran from the room. 

My bare feet moved swiftly down the hall towards my room. The rough wood under me scraped my feet, but I didn’t care. I entered my room and locked the door behind me, then sunk down to the floor.

I held a gun. Jesse’s gun. Jesse has a gun. I could have killed myself with that gun. Jesse touched my shoulder. What is happening to me? 

I worked to slow my breathing. My heart was pounding. I should have listened to Hannah. She told me to leave the box in the room. It must have slipped my mind with the excitement of being in Jesse’s room. I cursed myself for my inability to follow directions. 

After a few moments of steadying my breathing, I crawled across the floor to my mirror, resting Indian-style in front of it. I stared at myself, trying to process my flushed cheeks and wild hair. Despite these imperfections, my eyes looked brighter and more alive than they had in a long time. My small fingers reached up and lightly touched my exposed shoulder, trying to induce the feeling brought on by Jesse minutes before. 

A little thump in the room interrupted my haze, and I looked away from the mirror to see Cat making his way over to me. He began rubbing himself on me, then promptly lay down and shut his eyes. 

What a great idea, I thought to myself. 

I cuddled up next to the cat, dozing off within seconds.

“Ella? Ella! Come down here!” I jolted awake from my little cat nap, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I wasn’t sure how long I had been asleep, it didn't feel long at all. The sun was still high in the sky outside. 

“Ella!” The voice shouted again from downstairs. It sounded like Jesse. 

Due to the urgency in his voice, I jumped up and hurried down the stairs, lifting my thin white skirt up a bit to move quicker. 

“Dammit Jesse, what? What do you need?” I asked loudly, cranky from my rude awakening. 

He pressed a finger to his lips and leaned in close to my ear, causing me to shiver. 

“You have a visitor outside.”

I jolted away from Jesse in shock, staring at him with my lips parted. I didn’t even need to look, I knew who it would be. 

“I’m going to be sick Jesse,” I moaned, pressing a hand against my stomach. “I can’t do this.”

He placed his big hands on my shoulders again, and bent himself down so that he would be at my eye level. 

“Do you want me to tell him that? I’ll tell him you feel ill; you don’t have to see him, Ella.” He told me, his light brown eyes searching mine. 

What a lovely thought. Ambrose would never let it go that easily, though. He would insist that he sees me. 

“No. Thank you, Jesse, but I need to see him…I’m just nervous, that’s all.” I told him a bit breathlessly. “I’ll go right now.”

For the second time that day, I left the warmth of Jesse’s touch. I reached for the knob on our door, twisting it with dreadful anticipation. 

I saw him as soon as the door opened. He was leaning lazily up against one of the wooden pillars of our porch, in typical Ambrose fashion. He was more tan than when he left, his hair a bit shaggier. He was still clean shaven, still impeccably dressed. Typical. Even in the dusty gold camps he remained perfect in appearance. 

“Ella,” his cool voice broke my thoughts. “You look…Are you okay?” 

His concern warmed me a bit. I had forgotten the best thing about Ambrose: he always knew exactly what to say. 

“Yes…Yes, I’m good. You caught me napping, I’m afraid.” I answered, speaking my first words to my fiancé in months. It was both surreal and uncomfortable.

He pushed off of the pillar, moving with purpose towards me. He placed his hands on my shoulders exactly how Jesse had moments earlier. I couldn’t help but notice that they were smaller than Jesse’s. And colder.

He suddenly lowered his lips onto mine, hands moving a bit lower onto my waist. The kiss startled me at first, but the longer it went on, the more I melted into him, the doubt and dread slowly ebbing away. 

He pulled out of it first. 

“What do you say we go for a little walk? We could go down to the beach.” He said, his blue eyes warm for once. 

Even though I hated the beach, I agreed.

We began the short walk down the cliffside, Ambrose doing most of the talking. He told me about the gold camp, the terrible mail service, and most of all, how much he missed me.

This Ambrose felt different. He was talking to me, really talking to me. He was kind, and kept stopping to kiss me. 

“Who was that guy that opened the door?” Ambrose suddenly asked, interrupting my story about something Hannah said last week. 

“What?” I answered, a bit confused at first. “Oh, you mean Jesse. He and a group of men have been staying at the boarding house for a few weeks now. I’m not exactly sure why they’re here, but they are all nice enough men.”

“I see.” Ambrose didn’t seem to like this answer too much. I could tell by the way his blue eyes grew hard. “And do you have a lot of…contact, with these men?”

“Um. No. Of course not, Ambrose. I’m much too busy to really socialize much…”

Lie. I just lied to him, and don’t feel a thing. I couldn’t tell him how much I talk to Jesse, of course. Ambrose is a possessive man.

Ambrose seemed a bit amused at this. He let out a quick chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” I asked him with a confused smile. 

“What could you possibly be busy with? Laundry and cooking, you mean?” He responded, smiling even wider now. 

“No, Ambrose, that is not all I do. I read with my father, and I take care of the horses, and I…” I wanted to say that I spent time with Jesse, learning about things, but I knew this would not help my cause. I was slightly offended at his accusations. 

“Okay, okay. Calm down.” 

We had finally reached the beach. It was definitely pretty, I’ll admit that, but I had no desire to really ever visit the beach. I dislike the sand, and the smell, and I get too hot in the dresses I’m always wearing.

We walked around quietly for a few minutes, neither one of us having much to say. I already missed the dust and wood and horses from the boarding house, so I started walking back towards home. 

“Mother wants us to get married within the month.” Ambrose told me as we walked back up the steep path. 

I stopped dead in my tracks. 

“So soon? Aren’t you leaving again?” I said, a bit of panic welling up inside of me. 

“Well dammit Ella, don’t sound too excited. I will stay long enough for the wedding, and long enough for you to get settled in.”

“I don’t mean it that way, Ambrose. I just mean…that’s not much time to plan a wedding…” I answered, trailing off. I nervously ran a hand through my thick hair. 

“I suppose it is, but Mother insists. She’s so eager to have grandchildren.”

I could feel my own eyes widen at that statement. He kept walking on as if nothing was the matter. Children? I am most certainly not ready for children, especially not when it’s my soon to-be mother-in-law that wants them. 

“Children. Wow.”

We said nothing else as we reached the house. Ambrose was quickly becoming distant again, I could see it in the way his eyes barely noticed me as he kissed my forehead goodbye. For once, I didn’t care. 

After he left, I went to the stable. I slipped into Shadow’s stall and began stroking him. I buried my face into his wiry mane, trying to staunch the flow of tears down my face. 

Moments later, I felt big, warm hands on my shoulders gently pulling me away from Shadow. I turned around and buried my face into Jesse’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably. 

Chapter 5

I walked alone into town the next afternoon. I considered myself lucky, for I lived just up the main dirt road from the town of Carmel, where the various stores, homes, and the Devil’s Blood Saloon were located. The jail was located right smack next to the saloon, which was an incredibly smart real-estate choice. I primarily needed to go to the general store for my basic needs. 

I had overslept this morning; barely making it to breakfast. Hannah did not seem to mind, which was unusual. Our boarders had gone into town or wherever it was that boarders went before breakfast, so she did not have to cook a huge meal. Maybe that was what explained her cheery mood. After breakfast, I went to check on Shadow, hoping to see Jesse there. He wasn’t.

I thought about many things on my short walk to town. I thought of Ambrose, and about the dangers he must be facing in the gold camps. I had heard stories of the savage, heartless people there, and how they would stop at nothing to get a little money in their denim pockets. I shuddered just thinking about it.

The dry dirt crunched under the bottom of the flat black shoes I was wearing. After a full day of shunning shoes, it felt strange to be in them again, but I worried about what I might step in if I went barefoot through town. And how unladylike! My short-sleeved rust-colored dress was not very thick, so the midday heat did not affect me as much as the day before. 

After a few more minutes of walking down the road, I arrived to the little town of Carmel. There were a few saloons; the most popular being The Devil’s Blood saloon. A few assorted shops and a post office graced the busiest area of the street. The midday rush is my favorite time to be in town; watching the various people fighting and chattering excited me in ways I could not imagine. 

Walking past the already rowdy Devil’s Blood, I turned left into the post office. The door had been propped open by Mr. Smith, the kindly man who runs the Carmel Post Office, most likely to let a breeze in. 

“Miss Daley! Fancy seein’ you here, girl. How’s your daddy?” Mr. Smith asked me as I stepped into the empty post office. Mr. Smith and my father have been good friends ever since my father bought the boarding house. 

“He’s good, Mr. Smith. He’s been keeping busy with the boarding house, as usual,” I responded, taking the mail from his outstretched hand. 

“And Miss Hannah?” 

“She’s as chatty as ever,” I told him, laughing at the thought of Hannah and her constant talking. 

“That’s great to hear, Miss Daley. Tell them both I said hey, and to come visit every so often.”

“I will, Mr. Smith,” I responded, waving to him as I sidestepped the citizens continuously trickling into the post office. I felt lucky to have beat the midday rush.

I was not so lucky at the general store. It was packed with people; women buying items for dinner, men buying tobacco and toiletries, and children purchasing candy. It would take at least an hour for my order to be filled. I took the little pad of paper off of the front counter and wrote out my order list, careful to write my name at the top of the paper. Mr. Jameson, the owner of the general store, would complete my order once he cleared out the crowd. I figured I could return in an hour to get the items.

After five minutes of trying to escape the general store, only to be stopped every few seconds by someone looking to make small talk, I emerged onto the street. I stood in the shade of the store for a few seconds, trying to determine what to do with my time. I still held the mail I had just picked up in my hands, so making sure that nobody was looking, I slipped it down the bodice of my dress. Now free to roam about the town freely, I leisurely stepped into the dressmaker’s shop. 

The dress store was only for those who could afford to purchase ready-made dresses, instead of making their own. Hannah and I alternated between purchasing from the dress store and making our own. It wasn’t that we couldn’t afford the seamstress, Hannah just really enjoyed sewing. The shop was run by a little old woman that everyone called Nanny, and various girls my age that had no family or other places to work. I have no idea what her real name is and I doubted anyone else did, either. Nanny is famous around town for being as tough as a horseshoe, but incredibly fair and generous towards her employees. I loved having conversations with Nanny, as she payed no attention to manners and swore like a cowboy.

As soon as I looked around the store, I knew my day was about to darken. Ambrose’s little sister, Rebecca, and his mother, Loretta, were the only people inside of Nanny’s shop. They simultaneously looked over at me, Loretta’s face breaking into the cool smile that I was sure Ambrose inherited, and Rebecca’s face taking on an air of disdain and boredom. 

“Ella, my dear, it’s wonderful to see you. You look so thin in that dress, has Hannah been feeding you?” she asked me. Loretta Cassidy is a complicated woman. She always managed to slip in something critical about Hannah, even though Hannah did nothing but worship Loretta. She and her daughter are far thinner than I am, but she always feels the need to point out my weight. 

“Of course she has, Mrs. Cassidy. It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you two. Have either of you heard from Ambrose?” I asked them, accepting a brisk kiss on the cheek from Loretta.

“Of course we have, dear. He writes frequently,” she told me. She leaned in and quietly spoke. “I am not supposed to say anything to you and spoil the surprise, but he is coming home soon, presumably to see you.” 

I barely registered that admission. I was still stuck on the “he writes frequently”. Ambrose has written me a grand total of two letters in the four months he had been gone, but he has been writing his mother frequently? This angered me. 

“That’s fantastic! I have missed him so much these past months,” I answered, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling growing in my chest. 

A little noise erupted from Rebecca, who had remained silent up until then. It sounded as if she had tried to stifle a cough, but her face looked as if she was trying to hide a smile. Although she was a year younger than me, I was incredibly intimidated by her. 

“What is it, Rebecca?” Loretta asked exasperatedly. In my opinion, Rebecca seemed like the problematic child, and Ambrose, the golden boy. 

“Nothing, mother. I just cannot fathom as to why anyone would ever miss Ambrose,” Rebecca responded snakily, grimacing as if the thought caused her physical pain.

Before I even knew what was happening, a delicate hand shot out and slapped Rebecca across the face. The cracking noise that Loretta just inflicted upon her own daughter made me cringe. Never, in all my years of misbehavior and backtalk, had I ever been slapped, let alone with such force. Rebecca’s only reaction was her hand shooting up to protect the bright red welt emerging on her milky skin. I could see shiny tears glistening in her blue eyes that matched my own, but they did not spill over. 

“Don’t you dare ever speak another word like that. Ambrose is working hard for our family, little girl. Harder than you’ll ever work in your life,” Loretta spoke harshly. 

I could see where Loretta was coming from, but I disagreed with her harsh treatment of Rebecca. I can’t imagine myself slapping anyone, for any reason. 

“My apologies, dear. We all miss Ambrose, just as you do. Now, if you could excuse us, we have to be going,” Loretta spoke, grabbing Rebecca’s arm roughly and pulling her towards the door. 

I waited a few minutes before I also stepped out onto the street. The store was just making me feel uncomfortable after seeing what I saw. I coughed as I walked down the street, trying not to choke on the heavy dust brought up by the traffic. Not much time had passed, but I decided to just head back to the general store and try to get my groceries. 

The store was miraculously calm when I reentered. I walked right up to the counter, smiling kindly at the flustered-looking Mr. Jameson. 

“Miss Daley, here’s your things,” He spoke, handing me two bags full of my requested items. I handed him my payment then left the store, emerging once again into the warm sunlight. 

I began my short walk back to the boarding house, enjoying the bustle of the roads. I was halfway to the house when I heard a rumble behind me. 

Six horses ran by me, kicking up a storm of dust. The group of boarders were back from their little trip to God knows where. I noticed that Billy was also on a horse, but it did not appear to be Shadow. A little flicker of rage flowed through my body. 

The force of the riders running by me caused me to drop both bags of my groceries onto the dusty road. The anger intensified, and I clenched my jaw before bending down to pick them up.

All but one of the riders continued up the road to the boarding house. I watched as the tall rider of the regal black horse dropped away from the group and came back towards me. Before I knew what was happening, Jesse had swung off of his horse and scooped up both grocery bags, holding one out to me.

I grudgingly took it, expecting him to get back on his horse and ride to the house, but surprisingly, he took the reins in his hand and began walking.

"Are you coming, Señorita?" He asked, turning to look back at me, reins in one hand and a grocery bag in another.

Slightly dazed at the fact a man was helping out with such a mundane task, I followed him slowly.

I couldn't help but admire the entire backside of Jesse Salinas. His buttocks were round and the shape perfectly visible in the comfortable black trousers he wore tucked into brown boots. I could see the tan muscles of his back through the flimsy white material of his shirt.

A cough yanked me from my thoughts. Jesse was still walking, but he had his head turned back towards me and he was looking at me questioningly. I tried not to blush, knowing I had just been caught staring.

“Do you need any help?” He asked me, handling the horse and bag with ease.

“No.” 

His inky eyebrows shot up at my terse response, but he said nothing further. His pace slowed to match my own. 

“So…” I finally spoke, unsure of what to say.

“So.” He answered, obviously trying not to laugh.

“Where have you been all day?” I asked. I figured this was a safe enough question.

Apparently he disagreed, because he immediately looked uncomfortable, visibly struggling to find the right answer. His mouth opened to reply, then shut again. He was clearly trying to come up with an acceptable answer. 

“Never mind. How is Shadow?” I asked him. The horse had been a recurring thought in my mind all day. 

“I was just thinking about him. Shall we go have a look?” Jesse responded, shifting the bag of groceries under his arm. 

Reaching the house, I set the groceries inside then went to the stables with Jesse. Shadow’s tail twitched at the sight of us. He seemed much better than the day before, the treatment had obviously worked. 

“Ambrose is coming home soon,” I blurted out. I immediately felt embarrassed for sharing this information with Jesse. He knows nothing about me or my life, how could he care about this?

As expected, he looked a bit bewildered at my statement. 

“I see. This is a good thing, no?” Jesse asked. He glanced across Shadow to me. 

“Yes, of course! I miss him so much. It will be strange seeing him again, though. It’s been such a long time…”

“Tell me about Ambrose.”

My mind blanched a little more than expected at this. How do I honestly explain Ambrose? To be honest with myself, I would have to admit that I don’t know him that well. I know as much as Ambrose wants me to know. 

“Well… He’s sharp. Mentally, physically. Nothing gets by him. He holds a lot of anger.” I answered, deciding to just be honest. 

Jesse nodded, rubbing Shadow behind the ears. He seemed to be quietly speculating my words. 

“Is that all you have to say about him? No memories, silly stories?” He finally asked me, his voice a bit harder than it was moments earlier.

“Ambrose is complicated. And busy. When he is home, he aids his father in business and when we are together, his mind is always somewhere else…He has little time for anything but business.” 

As the words came out of my mouth, a heavy dread began to set in. What sort of life am I getting myself into? Do I honestly want to be with someone so preoccupied with himself and business? Feeling my hands beginning to shake, I set them on Shadows neck and behind moving them across his smooth hair. 

“What about you, Jesse? There’s really no girl out there?” I asked, trying to deflect the conversation. 

“No, señorita. There has never been a girl for me. Only Caballo,” he told me, pointing at the horse he was riding earlier. His voice gave a strange lilt when he said “Caballo”, not unlike when he says “señorita”.

“Caballo?” I inquired. 

Jesse gave a little chuckle. It was a nice chuckle, one that resonated warmth.

“Caballo means “horse” in Spanish. That’s the language you hear me speaking sometimes. Some words just slip in by habit,” He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You named your horse “horse”?” I asked him incredulously.

“No. I named him Caballo.”

I burst out laughing at this. I suppose I could not point fingers, as my cat was named Cat. 

“Alright, Señorita. You should go to the house before your father starts to worry about you,” he said, smiling his cheeky grin at me. 

I shook my head at him and followed his advice, returning to the house to help Hannah make supper.