Chapter 4

Jesse beat me to the front door of the house. I saw that he was patiently waiting, holding the door open for me, so I sped up my pace a bit, thankful that it was starting to cool down outside. I shot a small smile towards him as I walked through the door. 

I stepped towards the dining room, eager to eat some of Hannah’s stew. I could hear laughter from my father and Hannah. I suppose I smelled like horse, but I was just too hungry to care. 

A hush fell over the room as I entered. Hannah and my father stared at the bottom of my dress, and then at Jesse. I took a seat next to Hannah, hoping to eat quickly then politely excuse myself so that I could bathe. This, alas, did not seem to be a wish that would be granted anytime soon, for Jesse sat down next to me, apparently with the intent of making conversation. I internally sighed. 

Hannah stood up and filled two plates with food, then handed each to Jesse and I. 

“Thank you, Ms. Boone. This smells delicious,” Jesse told Hannah, accepting the plate with a charming smile. 

“You are very welcome Jesse,” Hannah responded, returning the smile. “Although I must say, Ella did help with the biscuits. We had such a grand time making them, it put a smile on my face.”

Good for me, I thought, trying hard not to roll my eyes. There should be more to life than biscuit making! Apparently Jesse agreed, for he directed a chuckle towards me so slight, I wasn’t sure if it actually happened. 

I turned up a corner of my mouth at Hannah, silently cursing her for being so boring. She did not see my smile, however. She had already sat back down, with her attentions on my father and the rest of the men. 

“I think the horse was more interesting, was it not, Señorita?” Jesse’s velvety voice broke my concentration on my food. “His words were quite thought-provoking, if I do say so myself.”

His words weren’t even that funny, but I snorted into the cup of coffee that I was taking a gulp out of, splashing myself with the warm liquid. All eyes at the table snapped to me, and Jesse burst out laughing. 

“Ella, what is going on?” My father asked in an amused tone. Hannah passed me a brown cloth napkin disapprovingly.

I mopped my face, trying not to laugh again. Luckily, the coffee only splashed onto my face and a little bit of my dress, which was already destroyed anyway, so it was not that big of a deal. Hopefully the Cassidy women don’t find out. That would be quite unfortunate, since these damages to the dress are the result of one very attractive man.

Stop, I thought to myself at the idea of Jesse being considered attractive. It is a sin to think of any other man besides Ambrose, who has as much beauty as Jesse, but in a very different way. Ambrose is sharp, always quick with his tongue and admirable in an intimidating way. Jesse is also intimidating in his own way, but more physically then emotionally. From what I’ve seen, he's friendly. He does not to seem to have the disdain for the world like Ambrose, and he is sure to make a nice girl happy one day. 

Once the excitement over my little mishap had died down, my father cleared his throat, his surefire indicator that he was about to start asking questions. 

“So, Jesse. Where are you men headed from here?” Father asked, sipping his own coffee carefully. I suppose he was being cautious after what happened to me. 

“Nowhere in particular. We will probably head to a gold camp somewhere around here,” Jesse answered, turning his head towards me slightly. “We are not in any rush.” 

“What gold camp?” I jumped in, feeling only slightly bad for interrupting my father. 

“I’m not sure, señorita.”

“Maybe you will see my fiancé, Ambrose Cassidy. He’s at one of those gold camps, I don’t know which, but he’s there.” I told him, glad that the only person listening to me was Jesse. 

“Fiancé, wow. Congratulations. How long have you two been courting?” Jesse responded. 

“Oh, well, we never exactly courted. He had to leave soon after our engagement, so I suppose we will have more time when he gets back,” I said, embarrassed about telling these things to Jesse. 

“I see,” he answered, obviously not understanding at all. “You must love him dearly, to wait for him.”

“Yes. I truly do,” I murmured, hoping I sounded convincing, because I really do love Ambrose. He is the best man for me.

“Well, then that is all you need.”

“What about you, Jesse? Do you have anyone?” I asked, hoping that I did not sound rude or nosy. Hannah has accused me of both on multiple occasions. 

His carved face hardened a bit at that question, causing his features to appear even stronger and finer than before. I found myself looking at his eyes again. Beneath the long lashes were eyes of a very curious color; brown like Hannah’s, but much lighter. I had never seen anything like them. 

“No, señorita, I have nobody but my horse and my men. I have no problem with keeping it that way.”

His words made me sad in a way that I could not explain, but I also felt as if I could relate. In a sense, all I have is my cat, my father and Hannah, and of course Ambrose, once he returns. I do not have many friends my age, all of the friends I made in the boarding house were much older and did not stick around for very long.

Understanding that there is some sort of sore spot with this subject, I stood up and began clearing the table. I felt the men’s eyes on me as I made my way to their side of the table, and I did my best to ignore them without seeming hostile. The chatter throughout the table continued, and I moved into the kitchen with all of the plates stacked on my arms, being extra cautious not to drop them and make a scene. 

Hannah usually washed the dishes if I cleared them, so I went back up to my room to get ready for bed. It had been such a long day, and I was positively exhausted. 

My bare feet made no noise as I moved up the stairs and to my room, where I shut the cream-colored door quietly. There was a small washroom adjacent to my bedroom; in it was a large tin tub that was amazing for keeping the water hot, a chamber pot, and a little box to put the dirty clothes that Hannah needs to clean in. There was, of course, an outhouse at our boarding house, but I rarely used it, for it was filled with spiders. 

I put my hand on the little pump of the bathtub and began pushing the hot water out. The hot water came from a little tank in the laundry room, which was right below my room. I pumped until the tub was full, then took my soiled dress off and threw it in the box. Hannah can decide what to do with it. I removed my slip, then stepped into the hot bath, sinking all the way down into the water. 

I relaxed for quite a while, enjoying the enticing water on my skin. I took my bar of soap to my hair first, scrubbing it thoroughly and taking care to remove any tangles as I went. I then washed my body, paying special attention to my feet. I ran out of soap just as I finished my bath, so I would have to go shopping tomorrow. 

I reached for the big drying cloth once I was done, and stepped from the tub’s now-murky water. I dried the moisture off of my skin, then ran a brush that belonged to my mother through my hair. 

After slipping into a sleeping gown and preparing my bed warmer with coals from my fireplace, I got into bed. 

I miss Ambrose. 

Chapter 3

“Dios mío.”

The smooth, unfamiliar words had come from an incredibly handsome stranger standing at the front of the group. If I was being honest with myself, I would say that he was more than handsome. Calling him just handsome was an insult to him, but I made the effort to never think about men in such a way besides Ambrose. 

Before I even thought to filter my words, I blurted out some entirely unladylike words.

“What in the hell does that mean?” I said to the beautiful stranger. Yes, beautiful seemed more appropriate. I clapped a hand over my lips, already reddening at my harsh words. 

The room was completely silent until the stranger broke out into soft laughter. He had a nice laugh. He bent down, and to my astonishment, successfully picked up Cat and began stroking him.

“Señorita, your words amuse me. I said “my god”. The cat surprised me, you see.”

He spoke with the same accent that I have heard in the boarding house before, but perhaps more faint, belonging to men my father often referred to as vaqueros or Hispanics. This man standing before me was nowhere near as dark as those men, though. 

I would ask what ‘señorita’ means, but I refrained in order to save myself from even more embarrassment. The people in the room were already hiding their laughter at me, and I did not feel like being at the end of everyone’s amusement for the entire evening. 

“I see. Did the cat harm any of you?” I asked, still recovering from my immense embarrassment, I was lucky my dress was long enough to cover my bare feet. If our guests saw those, they would be sure to think that I am a complete floozy. 

Taking a quick scan of the group of men, I determined that the man in front was definitely the largest and most handsome. His demeanor conveyed that of an alpha male, but he was not overly aggressive. His appearance would be hard to describe to someone that had never seen him before. Overall, he was manly, but his features had wisps of fairness. This is probably why I would consider him more beautiful than handsome. 

“No, señorita. We all seem to be in one piece, thank you for your concern. Does this little one have a name?” He inquired to me, stroking the purring Cat behind the ears.

“Cat.” I responded, puzzled at how the man was able to pet the cat. Cat was notorious for viciously scratching anyone that tried to touch him, with the exception of me. I was met with a bemused smile.

“Yes, does the cat have a name?”

“Cat. His name is Cat.” I answered, daring him with my eyes to laugh. He apparently got the message, only responding to me with a nod. He set the cat down, and turned to my father. 

“Shall we introduce ourselves?” His silky voice asked, his accent catching on the longer words. 

“Yes, yes. I’m Seth Daley, the owner of this house. Just call me Seth. This is my daughter, Ella. She helps me out around here. You will meet Hannah Boone in a few minutes, she also lives here. She mostly tends to the cooking and cleaning of this establishment. You folks have any questions, just go to Hannah or Ella and they will help you out,” said my father. I had to squelch my irritation at my father introducing me. Just because I am a woman does not mean that I am incapable of stating my name, thank you very much. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Seth. My name’s Jesse Salinas, I go by Jesse…” He then proceeded to state the names of the five men standing behind him. Jesse. In all my years of boarding house experience, I have never met a Jesse. And what a strange sounding last name; it was unlike anything I had ever heard before. In my focus on Jesse, I failed to pay attention to the names of the other men. Oh well, I would learn them over the course of the evening.

The sound of my fathers voice broke me out of my trance. I must have been spacing out more than I thought. 

"Ella?" My father probed, looking at me questioningly. I was incredibly confused as to why everyone was staring at me until I realized that I had probably been asked a question. 

"I'm sorry, could you please repeat that?" I responded, running a hand through my long hair. 

"Your father told me that you have a soft spot for animals. Billy here," Jesse said to me, pointing at the grizzled man next to him, "his horse has fallen ill on our journey. Would you like to help me tend to his horse?" 

This is like a dream come true. I love all animals, especially horses. I have never had one, so naturally they held the highest appeal to me. I had to struggle to contain my excitement. 

"Yes, I would love to help. Shall we get to it now, or would you like to eat first?" 

Jesse looked at Billy who was shuffling his feet and mumbling to the other men behind Jesse. Billy did not look all too concerned with his horse. 

"We can let these men go eat, and you and I can go tend to the horse. If that is okay with you, of course. I completely understand if you would rather eat first.”

What an idiot. Who would pass up this opportunity for food? 

That apparently was not the right question to ask, because every single on of the men, besides Jesse, followed my father into the dining room. Even the horse’s owner! How heartless can one man get?

“Shall we go, señorita? Shadow needs urgent attention,” Jesse told me, not waiting for my reply before spinning on his heel to go back through the front door. I made the educated guess that Shadow was the horse. 

I ran after Jesse through the door, wincing as my bare feet met the splintery wooden floor of the front porch. Jesse was already halfway across the yard, his long legs moving effortlessly fast and graceful. I followed clumsily, sprinting across the warm grass, trying as hard as I could not to step on anything either sharp or disgusting. 

I arrived at the stable a few moments after Jesse had entered. I stepped inside, and looked around for Jesse. I did not see him, so I made my way down the row of stalls until I found him kneeling in one, seemingly examining a horse’s front leg. 

The horse was absolutely beautiful. It was jet black, with long, muscled limbs and a beautifully dewy coat. Its mane was long and well-cared for, as was its tail. I laughed as Shadow’s muzzle reached down and nuzzled Jesse’s neck lovingly. It was obvious the horse trusted him, and I felt wrong intruding, but in my defense, I had been invited.

“What’s wrong with him?” I asked, stepping into the hay-strewn stall. The horses balked at the sight of me, so I moved slowly and spoke quietly. I had attempted to hoist my dress up just a tiny bit to avoid getting dirt and other smelly things on the pretty hem, but I deemed this a waste of time and let the skirt back down.

“Rattlesnake bite. Right here on his thigh. See the watery stuff dripping out? That is the horse’s body trying to fight the venom,” Jesse told me, pointing to the liquid dripping out of two barely visible holes in Shadow’s leg. “I’ve dealt with these a few times before. If we move quickly we can probably save him.”

“What should we do first? The most I’ve ever done is clean a cut,” I admitted, feeling bad for being so inexperienced. If only I had paid attention to my father when he told me about rattlesnake bites. Or any medical procedures, period. I never thought I would be in a situation where I would need it.

“Then that’s what you’ll do. Do you have a well somewhere around here? And soap. We need to clean out the wound,” Jesse answered, looking up at me from underneath eyelashes almost as long as mine. Why does a man have such thick eyelashes?

I nodded at him and sprinted back towards the house. I practically leapt across the porch to avoid more splinters, then ran to my room to get the new bar of soap I just bought and a towel. I stowed these in a little sack, then hurried back through the front door to the well. I drew as large of a bucket as I could carry, then began the journey back to the barn.

I struggled to carry the bucket of water across the grass. Every step I took set a bit of water sloshing over the side of the bucket and onto my dress. The bucket would slam into my shins, sure to leave bruises. I had almost dropped the bucket when the weight was suddenly lifted by a big, tan hand. 

Jesse carried the bucket with ease towards the barn, smirking over his shoulder at me. My first instinct wanted me to be angry and demand that he let me carry it by myself, but then I realized that that would be unladylike. Knowing this, I turned up my nose at his cute smile and kept walking towards the barn. 

We made our way to the stall in silence. Shadow tossed his head happily at the sight of Jesse, which I found enamoring. I wish I had a horse to have such a bond with. 

“Just take that soap and clean the bite, rinsing it with water a bunch. I’ll keep him calm while you touch him,” Jesse told me, striding across the hay to Shadow. His fingers combed through the horse’s black mane, gently working through the minuscule knots forming from the horse’s repeated head-tossing. 

I tentatively followed his orders, kneeling next to the horse’s leg. I silently thought a quick prayer that Shadow did not decide to kick me. The hay under my bare feet caused them to itch. I desperately wanted to itch them, but the horse was more important. I gently wet the wound, hoping the water was not too cold. Or, perhaps, it was not cold enough? I shrugged this off, picking up the new soap bar, and not even feeling sad that I never got to use it, I began to scrub the soap into the wound, imagining the soap flushing out the disgusting venom from Shadow’s leg. 

It was as if my fingers took control and knew what to do. They moved rapidly and skillfully, tenderly cleansing the inflamed flesh of the venom. I looked around for a cloth of some sort that would be big enough to dress the wound. Without even thinking about it, I reached towards the bottom of my thick dress and tore a huge chunk of the hem, exposing my bare feet to Jesse. His inky black eyebrows went up at this, but he thankfully said nothing, just nodded and returned to whispering to Shadow in those strange words that I did not understand.

I began to wrap the fabric around the horse’s leg, glad that the dress had just been cleaned. It would make a great bandage, what with it being so thick. I tied it off, then began to examine my handiwork. 

“It’s too bad that you do not have any snapdragons, señorita.” Jesse’s deep voice broke my concentration. “I have always used those for rattlesnake bites.”

“What are snapdragons?” I asked him from my seat on the floor. I had never heard of something with such a curious name.

“It is a type of plant. It has beautiful flowers, in shades not unlike that dress of yours,” he told me. “You can crush it then heat it. It works well on cuts and bites.” Jesse gestured to the horse. “You seem to have done a decent job, though, señorita.”

I wanted to ask a few more questions about this snapdragon he spoke of, but Jesse deemed Shadow well enough to make it through the night then started walking out of the stables. I chased after him, suddenly making note of my grumbling stomach. Taking care of animals truly works up an appetite.

Chapter 2

July 27th, 1861

It’s so goddamn hot. That unladylike thought ran through my head at least five more times before I finally stomped up to my room on the second floor of the boarding house. I set the pitcher of water that I had been carrying down on the intricately carved oak bureau.

It had been a long summer so far. One of the hottest yet, and the slight ocean breeze did nothing to cool anyone down in Carmel. I found it strange that it was so hot here; the weather usually stays steady throughout the entire year. To make matters worse, the boarding house had been incredibly crowded this summer, and we were almost at maximum capacity today. 

People usually stay for only a few days in the boarding house. It is more of a home for travelers, where they have a clean bed and warm meal before they continue on their journey. I had met every type of man you can think of here: the smooth-talking salesman, the occasional cowboy, and the flirty business owner. None of them really stayed with me in my heart, though, that was all for Ambrose.

Ambrose. I miss him so much. I often wonder how he is doing in the mine camps. Not that Ambrose is actually doing any of the manual labor, he has men for that, but I still worry nonetheless. The Gold Rush has taken a lot of time to adjust to. I have only received one letter from him, and it was a short one. I tend to spend all my free-time writing to him, telling him of the colorful characters that stay here and the fights that break out in the saloon next door. 

I paced around my sweltering room, not really sure what to do to become more comfortable in the heat. A thought came to mind, and I blanched. No real lady wears pants, I thought to myself. No matter how goddamn hot it is. The idea was ridiculous, I would never be caught dead in a pair of pants. However, in this heat, it was an attractive thought. It would be much easier to finish my chores of preparing rooms for boarders, and helping Hannah begin supper preparations. 

I looked down at the many layers of ruffled dress I was wearing. The dress was beautiful, a gift from Ambrose’s mother and sister after our engagement. It was a delicate pink color, and had come with a matching bonnet. That, I had discarded, for fear of looking like a young girl. The dress was just too heavy for the current weather. Examining myself in the mirror, I decided to change into a dress with not so many layers. It wouldn’t be as proper, but I doubted that I would see anyone from the Cassidy family.

After changing and finishing the room preparations, I trotted down the stairs to go find Hannah. Judging by the delicious smells throughout the house, she was in the kitchen. Still moving quickly, I had almost reached the kitchen when my father stepped into the dining room. 

“Ell, what in the world are you in such a rush for?” My father asked, placing two hands on my shoulders to steady me. “And what are you wearing?”

I looked down at my new attire, cringing inside. I should have known it was completely inappropriate of me to wear a dress from my young teenage years. It barely fit me anymore, much too tight around my breasts and it only skimmed the tops of my feet, which had no shoes covering them. 

I opened my mouth to begin an apology, but I was cut off by my father who laughed.

“Never mind, Ell. I need to go check on the stables, we have six new boarders tonight, all with horses. They should be here anytime. Run along and help Hannah.”

Following his orders, I stepped into the kitchen to assist with dinner. Hannah was standing over the stove, stirring a large pot of what smelled like beef stew. Hannah Boone is my stand-in mother. Obviously she could never replace my mom, who died when I was very young, but she comes close. I’ve always hoped that my father would fall in love with Hannah, but I have more or less given up on that dream. It is clear to anyone who looks that Hannah is desperately in love with my father, but I don’t think she will ever have the guts to tell him. I don’t think my father will ever move on from my mother’s death, either. 

“Hello, Ell. Are you going to help me?” Hannah asked me, brushing a few tendrils of wavy brown hair away from her sweaty face. “I have just about finished the stew, but the biscuits need to be baked.” 

I set about performing this task. Over the years, Hannah has taught me all she knows about housework, cooking, and sewing. I appreciate the fact that she taught me these things, because they will surely be valued in the Cassidy home, but I don’t like doing them. There is nothing more mind-numbing to be than sewing. I am good at it, due to the endless hours of my Hannah-training, but I hate it. I know that if Hannah had not been around all these years, I would not have been considered a lady enough to become engaged to Ambrose. I owe everything to Hannah.

Hannah and I chatted while we cooked about silly things, such as my hair and her hair and Rebecca Cassidy, Ambrose’s bratty sixteen year old sister. While I adore Hannah and can think of nobody I love as much as her except for maybe my father, she does not talk much about things of importance. I cannot blame her, as she never went to school or learned to read. She knows the role of women, she follows that role, and she does her best to get me to follow that role. Our conversation was vapid to the point that we actually began to discuss the weather. The weather. Hannah was just as affected by the heat as I was, but she had the good graces to sweat through it. 

We finally reached the point in our (Hannah’s) chatter where I began to feel lightheaded and nauseous. Maybe it was the heat, but I like to think that it was the conversation. One girl can only take so many minutes of hair ribbons and flour brands. I strode barefoot (which Hannah had commented on, bless her heart) across the wood floor to the sink and pumped water into my hands to rinse the biscuit flour off. The water went down a little drain and into a small bucket under the sink in a cupboard, so emptying that bucket after supper was yet another chore to add to my list. I could not help but groan a little at this, but not loud enough for Hannah to hear. She would not approve. 

“Hannah, I am going to go change back into my day clothing. This dress is making it difficult to breathe.” This, of course, was an exaggeration, but I needed out of that silly kitchen. 

Luckily, none of our boarders had returned to the house from their varied activities of the day, so I did not have to worry about looking improper to them. Our boarding house housed mainly men, so I always had to watch myself in my own home. While this was a bit of an inconvenience, I can think of no better way to grow up. I have met more interesting people in my seventeen years than most people will meet in their entire lives, and for that, I am grateful. 

I made my way back up to my bedroom to change back into that God-awful dress, already sweating at the thought of it. The good thing about Carmel is that while it can be warm during the day, nights are considerable colder, and often require bed warmers. I love using many blankets and the bed warmer, so I don’t mind this at all. A thick fog always rolls by our boarding house in the morning, so we usually get to bundle up until late morning. 

After changing back into the pink dress, I examined myself in the pretty silver mirror that had belonged to my mother before she passed. I picked up her old brush and, still looking in the mirror, brushed my waist-length black hair. I tend to wash it and the rest of my body every day in a hot bath, since Hannah told me that that is what the Cassidy women do. My father grumbled about this practice, and charged anyone in the boarding house who wanted to bathe a dollar more, but he was a good sport about it to Hannah and I. 

“Ella!” I heard my father shout from downstairs. “Get down here!”

I figured it was the new boarders arriving. I was usually in charge of welcoming our guests and showing them their rooms. The group we were receiving tonight consisted of six men, apparently making their way from Southern California to one of the gold mining camps. They all had horses, and I hoped they would allow me to pet one. I love horses. 

A little thump sounded outside my room. Within two seconds, a furry little body leapt through my room, yowling as it came. It shot around my room, leaping off the various furniture items. After the cat slammed against my bed post, it noticed me and calmed down. It was an ugly cat, with marbled brown fur missing in chunks and a deformed paw. I rescued it as a kitten from a large bird when I was twelve, naming it Cat, and it has been sporadically living in the boarding house ever since. My father hated it, said it was bad for business. While this could be true, it was unfriendly and difficult to look at, I knew my father would  never dream of taking him away from me. 

I picked up the cat and carried him out of the room, kicking the door shut with my still bare feet. Shoes just did not sound appealing to me at the moment. I intended to get Cat a little something from the kitchen to eat, completely forgetting about the men I was supposed to welcome, who were waiting for me in the front parlor. They all stared at me as I basically ran down the stairs in my usual fashion, whether their eyes were widening at me or the cat I do not know. Probably the cat. The cat, seeing the multitude of men gathered in the parlor, began to thrash in my arms, definitely leaving scratches on the delicate, lightly tanned skin. Yowling erupted, and the cat shot out of my arms towards the young men. They all jumped back, bumping into each other with a chorus of swear words, words that I was quite used to despite me being a lady, and through all of the damns and fucks, I heard something I had never heard before. 

“Dios mío.”

Chapter 1

March 4th, 1861

"When will you be back?" I questioned, clutching the front of his shirt collar in my fist. "Ambrose, answer me. When will you be back?” 

My fiancé looked down at me with a small smile on his pretty mouth. While his smile conveyed (at least, I thought so) affection, his clear blue eyes were cold and distant. The smile dropped off his face, replaced with a look of contempt. 

“You are wrinkling my collar, Ell. Do you expect me to travel with a soiled collar?”

My heart wilted a little in my chest. It had suddenly become hot, the many layers of my gray dress stifling me. My fingers released the hold on his collar, smoothing out the minuscule wrinkle my delicate fingers had made. My fiancé, Ambrose Cassidy, is generally a nice man. That is what I like to think. He tends to overreact about silly things, such as his shirt collar, dogs barking a bit too much, or any men talking to me, despite the topic. He was a fairly cold man, never indulging too much in emotional activities. 

“I am not sure when I will be back. The camp I am leaving for today has had many gold discoveries, so perhaps I will not be gone long. The forty-niners under my employment seem like idiots, however, so we shall see,” Ambrose confided to me. 

He ran a wiry hand through his soft blonde hair.  I stood back and admired his form, knowing that I would truly miss it during his absence. His tall frame dominated my relatively petite one. Ambrose Cassidy was the son of a wealthy business man and his New York socialite wife. We had grown up together, our fathers being business partners since before both Ambrose and I could walk or talk. 

My father, back before my mother died, had purchased our large house from Mr. Cassidy and converted it into a boarding house, taking care to outfit it with only the nicest and most current amenities. Our home features multiple bathtubs, easy access to hot water, and two outhouses, one for each gender. The Daley Boarding house is a popular, respectable one. This purchase helped establish a fine friendship between the Cassidys and the Daleys, one that would be translated into a marriage, once I turned eighteen, which would be (hopefully) around the time that Ambrose returns.

I worry about Ambrose often. I worry about how our marriage will be, how life will be for me as I move up the social ladder with my marriage to the most eligible bachelor in all of Carmel, and most of all, I worry about how happy I will be with Ambrose. He is a temperamental man, not very warm or caring, even when it comes to me. 

“I will miss you very much, Ambrose. You do know that, don’t you? I will be counting the days till I receive your letters, till you come home.” I reached for his hand at that, doing all I could to ignore the small handgun resting in a fine leather holster at his hip. 

His cold fingers intertwined with mine, and lifted one hand to his lips, resting a slight kiss from cool lips to the soft skin of my hand. I shivered, whether from the temperature of him or the feelings he could bring out of me with one gaze.

“I will miss you as well, my love. I promise to be back as soon as is possible, and I will make you my wife. My beautiful, delicate wife.” He looked past me, out the front window of the boarding house, and apparently seeing something, he looked back at me. “I must go now. Do not forget about me, Ella. Never.”

“Never,” I echoed.