The Engagement Charade. Karen Kirst
Texas. In fact, he’d had limited interaction with anyone. Alexander had always been one to enjoy his own company, but his hermit-like existence would shock his brother and sister.
Grimacing, he absently rubbed his midsection. What had stirred these thoughts of Thomas and Margaret? Nothing good could come of dwelling on everything he was missing.
“Are you in pain?”
“What?”
She pointed to his middle. “You do that a lot.”
Resting his forearm on his thigh, he shook his head. “Force of habit.”
“How long have you suffered stomach troubles?”
Since my wife and son were murdered.
Curling his fingers into a fist, he said aloud, “A couple of years.”
“That must be difficult.”
“My flare-ups happen when I’m not careful with my diet. Or when I go long stretches without sleeping.” He clamped his lips shut. Why had he told her that?
Thankfully, she didn’t pepper him with questions, and his tension ebbed. The clop of the horses’ hooves competed with whirring wheels. When the distant yowl of coyotes echoed through the mountains, she didn’t react.
“I had a great-aunt who suffered from ulcers. She was adamant that cabbage juice was the only true remedy.”
Stifling his curiosity about her background, he kept his focus on the dark lane as they entered a thick-growth cove. The avenue was barely passable. More than once, his black bowler was nearly lost to overhanging branches. She apologized.
“Howard, my father-in-law, has been promising to trim this for weeks. As you’ve surely heard, the list of farm chores is endless.”
Images of his family’s vast ranch surged unbidden in his mind. Farm or ranch, living off the land took energy, determination and raw grit. Homesickness rose up so fast he felt robbed of breath. What he wouldn’t give to see those rolling green pastures dotted with cattle, the ranch house and stables framed by boundless cerulean skies. And his siblings... His throat became clogged with emotion as he imagined how they’d changed. They exchanged letters every now and then, but it wasn’t the same as seeing them in person.
Memories of the fire that had stolen his home and his wife and child threatened, and, in order to stave them off, he sought conversation he normally wouldn’t have.
“I heard you arrived in the area in May. Where are you from?”
If she was startled by his interest, she didn’t show it. “Originally Lexington, Kentucky. Beautiful country. My parents died when I was ten, so I went to live with my grandparents in a different part of the state. Their farm abutted the Jamesons’ property. That’s how I met Nolan. My husband.”
Like him, she was no stranger to loss. “My mother died giving birth to my youngest sister,” he said. “I was eight.”
“I’m sorry. Is your father still alive?”
“His heart gave out on him the year I turned twenty.”
Lionel Copeland had seemingly enjoyed good health. His death had blindsided everyone. Thomas and Margaret, their cook and mother-figure Rosa and even the ranch hands had turned to Alexander for reassurance that their way of life would continue as it always had. While it had been an immense burden for one so young, he’d embraced his duty without complaint.
“Loss like that stays with you, doesn’t it?” she sighed. “The normal days are hard enough, but the momentous occasions are worse. Those are the days you really grieve their absence.”
Again his thoughts turned to a painful place. His wedding day had taken place four years after his father’s passing, and yet he’d craved his steadfast presence. He would’ve given anything for his father to have had the opportunity to meet Sarah. Then there was the day Levi was born...
He must’ve gasped aloud, because Ellie angled toward him. “Is something wrong? Are you hurting?”
Alexander glanced into her liquid brown gaze. The wagon lanterns swinging from their hooks had light patterns playing across her face. He felt suddenly like a man who’d been encased in ice, his mind and body numb, and now the ice was thawing and he was beginning to sense every pinprick of discomfort. He gritted his teeth. I’m not ready. I can’t relive the nightmare. Not yet.
“I’m perfectly well, thank you,” he told her in stilted tones.
With a skill born of practice, he locked away his past and concentrated on his surroundings, soaking in details he could transfer to paper later. He’d taken to sketching in his free time, mostly nature scenes and animals. He didn’t possess natural talent, but his work no longer resembled a child’s scribbles.
Unfortunately, Ellie did not sense his need for retreat.
“Nolan was excited about this move. Everyone was, including me. I had hoped it would provide us with a fresh start. We couldn’t have known what lay ahead.” Her voice hitched, and she cleared her throat. “The men started on Howard and Gladys’s cabin first. Nadine, Nolan’s sister, was insistent that she and her husband, Ralph, would have theirs built next. Within a month, they had both cabins finished. And then they started on ours. They were felling trees one drizzly June day, and Nolan was standing in the wrong spot. I wasn’t there... I didn’t see what happened. I was dressing a rabbit for stew I’d planned to serve that evening.”
Up ahead, lights shone in the windows of two dwellings situated on opposite sides of a stamp-sized yard. Relief coursed through him. He hadn’t asked to travel memory lane with her. Getting sucked into other people’s problems was a sure way to lose his hard-won control. Living their pain brought his own rushing to the surface.
As he guided the team to a stop, she didn’t seem to notice his lack of response. She appeared to brace herself as the door on their left banged open and an older couple already in their nightclothes emerged onto the porch. The gray-headed man with square features sported a rifle.
“Do you have any notion what time it is?”
The woman Alexander assumed was Ellie’s mother-in-law studied him with ill-concealed malice. Probably in her early-to midsixties, she was tall for a woman and big boned. Her dark hair hung to her waist and was striped with wide swaths of silver.
Ellie hurried to disembark. “I apologize, Gladys. I accidentally dozed off after my shift.”
“You know not to bring strange men here.” The man balanced his weapon against his hip.
“This is my boss.” Ellie’s voice was low and strained. “I’ve told you about him.” Not looking at Alexander, she waved her hand between them. “Alexander Copeland, meet my in-laws, Howard and Gladys Jameson.”
He touched his hat brim. “I’m sorry for the disturbance.”
Shooting him a baleful look, Gladys gestured behind her. “Get inside, Ellie.”
Even in the darkness, Alexander could sense her resistance.
“It’s late,” Ellie hedged. Motioning to the other cabin, she said, “I’d like to go to bed. How about we talk tomorrow?”
“We’ll talk now.”
Spinning on her heel, the older woman stalked inside, holding the door ajar. Howard reeked of suspicion.
Something inside Alexander demanded he seize his employee and take her back to town.
“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Copeland.” Her reticule balled in her hand, she started to follow her mother-in-law.
“Ellie.”
Her eyes widened. “Yes?”
“Do you have need of anything more?” Will you be all right?
She hesitated. “No, sir.”
She