Forbidden Secrets
By: H Forbes
YA Romance
Sexual tension and intimacy - Love scenes are not detailed, and more of a summary – but not closed door.
Themes & Tropes
Wealth, Age Gap, Memorable Meeting, Forced Proximity, Religion/Spirituality, Marriage before Intimacy
Content Warnings
Violence/Blood/Gore, Substance Abuse, Murder, Child Abuse/Neglect, Non-Consent (off page), Suicide/Suicidal Ideations (Mentioned by 3rd party)
10/2024 - Edited for typos, New formatting
Part One – Leave the past in the past
Chapter 1
Baltimore, Maryland - 1873
A cold breeze slipped through the old windows of Laurent manor, making Gabrielle shiver and sending bills flying across the floor. Frustration etched lines on her brow as she lunged for a receipt threatening to escape under the heavy mahogany desk. This was the fifth time that hour her younger sister, Violette, had flung open the heavy oak door, letting in more of the howling winter storm.
Since their court-appointed guardian had been dismissed for embezzling a significant portion of their inheritance, the weight of managing the Laurent estate had settled squarely on Gabrielle's nineteen-year-old shoulders. Bills piled high like a miniature snowdrift on her desk, a testament to years of neglect and mismanagement. An accountant had been secured, but first Gabrielle had to decipher the cryptic scribbles of her stepfather.
Her rhythmic tapping on the desk ceased abruptly as Violette flopped dramatically onto the velvet settee, letting out a theatrical sigh that echoed through the parlor. Gabrielle knew the yearning in her sister's eyes: a yearning for escape, for the bustling life of the town beyond the snow-covered fields.
"Perhaps a book?" Gabrielle offered, gathering the scattered papers and tucking them into the worn leather ledger.
"When will this snow ever stop?" Violette rolled her eyes, a movement as familiar as the creak of the old floorboards.
"Winter has barely started." Gabrielle snickered.
"This boredom is suffocating!" Violette exclaimed, her voice laced with teenage angst.
"There's needlework, the piano..." Gabrielle offered, her brow furrowing slightly as a dull throb pulsed in her temples. "You haven't touched the piano for a fortnight."
A pout formed on Violette's lips, a pout that despite its childishness, pulled at Gabrielle's heartstrings. "I just want some fresh air," Violette mumbled, slumping closer to Gabrielle, seeking solace in the warmth of her sister's presence.
Just then, the heavy oak door creaked open once more, revealing Natalia, the Laurents' housekeeper. Her face, creased with age and etched with concern, held a silent question.
"Yes, Natalia?" Gabrielle inquired, her voice laced with a weary gratitude.
"Miss Gabrielle," Natalia began, her voice a low murmur, "I have gathered all of Mr. Turner's belongings in the hallway, as you requested."
"Thank you, Natalia," she replied.
Violette perked up at the mention of her father. "What are you doing with all of Father's things?"
"I thought we could go through them," she said softly. "Perhaps choose some keepsakes, a reminder of him."
"Truth is, I didn't know him well." Violette's gaze clouded with sadness.
"Neither did I." Gabrielle wasn't close to her stepfather, but he was the only father she knew.
A flicker of understanding sparked in Violette's eyes. "Father's pipe," she announced, reaching into a dusty cardboard box at the top of the pile.
Gabrielle's breath hitched as her gaze landed on a solitary brown leather book nestled amongst the clutter. Why wasn't this with the rest of the books in the library? Curiosity piqued, she reached out and gingerly picked it up. The worn leather felt cool and smooth in her hands, the inscription on the cover barely discernible – "M. Turner."
Violette, drawn by Gabrielle's sudden stillness, approached and peered into the box. "This still smells like him," she whispered, picking up a heavy cloak and burying her face in its folds, inhaling the lingering scent
Mitchell Turner, her father, a man shrouded in liquor and solidarity, might have left behind a record of his life, a glimpse into the man she barely knew. Violette's fingers trembled as she flipped through the aged pages, the scent of leather and something faintly floral filling her senses.
She flipped through the pages rapidly, her heart pounding with a mixture of hope and trepidation. "This looks like my father's journal," she announced, her voice hushed with awe.
Chapter 2
Baltimore, Maryland - 1873
The snowstorm howled outside the Laurent manor for over a week. Inside, the sisters found solace in their own pursuits. Gabrielle, hunched over the oak desk, fighting the never-ending war against an ever-growing stack of bills and payroll ledgers. Every now and then, she'd glance at Violette, who sat on the plush settee, practically glued to her father's journal.
Since its discovery, the book had become an extension of her, rarely leaving her lap. She barely stopped to eat, her brow furrowed in concentration as she devoured each page with an insatiable hunger.
The image of her father that emerged from the journal was a revelation. The man Violette had known was a shadow, cloaked in melancholy and a persistent scent of stale alcohol. He haunted the library, rarely venturing out, and when he did, it was always adorned in an uncomfortably stiff suit, a mask of formality obscuring any hint of his inner life.
The man in the journal was a stark contrast to the one Violette remembered. Each entry chipped away at the image she thought she had known, revealing a man full of life, a yearning that seemed to have vanished before he'd even met her mother. The contrast fueled a burning question in Violette's mind: what had happened to the vibrant man who had ridden horses on Oklahoma plains?
June 15, 1840
Three weeks, and the callouses on my hands are a testament to the honest work here. While the physical labor is demanding, it's a welcome change from the confines of the city. Fresh air, endless sky, and the company of these magnificent animals – it's worth every ache. Tomorrow brings the dreaded task of fence mending – a chore I could gladly live without.
Today, I had my first encounter with the "wild Indians". I've seen Indians in New York, dressed like white folks, but they aren't like the ones out here. Six of them, mounted and silhouetted against the cliffs bordering the ranch. Thankfully, a warning shot from my boss scattered them quickly.
There are several tribes out here. The Cheyenne and Cherokee seem peaceful enough, causing no trouble. But the Kiowa and Apache, my boss warned me they're a different story – violent and merciless towards lone ranchers. Something to keep in mind when venturing out alone.
July 27, 1840
The days seem to blend together, the routine, while predictable, hasn't offered much material for these pages. Today, however, brought an unexpected encounter. While down by the creek, I stumbled upon a group of Indian women washing clothes. Unable to distinguish the tribes yet, I assumed them to be Kiowa. I kept a safe distance and eventually moved on.
August 07, 1840
I've been drawn back to the creek repeatedly. The woman with the blue beads adorning her dress has become a constant presence in my thoughts. Today, to my surprise, our paths finally crossed.
Though a language barrier separated us – her words as foreign to me as mine must be to her – there exists a universal tongue that transcends spoken language. A connection sparked a silent understanding that left a profound impression.
"Brie!" Violette shrieked, leaping out of her chair with a startled gasp.
Gabrielle's head snapped up, a furrow etching itself between her brows. "Vee?! What is it?" She exclaimed, concern lacing her voice.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Violette stammered, her eyes wide with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. "It's just... you won't believe what I just read in Father's journal!"
Gabrielle took a deep, calming breath, setting down her pencil with a soft thud. "All right, all right," she said, forcing a smile. "What is it?"
Leaning forward, Violette recounted the passage about the woman with the blue beads, her voice brimming with a nervous energy. "He met her by the creek, and they... well, they didn't speak the same language, but..." her voice trailed off, a blush creeping up her cheeks as she quoted the entry, "A connection sparked, a silent understanding that left a profound impression!'"
"That doesn't sound like your father at all."
Gabrielle's memories of her stepfather were fragmented at best. He'd been an army officer when her mother met him, a man who often spoke of battles fought and "savages" subdued. A chilling memory surfaced – her stepfather boasting about a supposed triumph. Settlers had desecrated a burial ground, and some Apache had retaliated. His infantry, he'd recounted with a sickening pride, had hunted down not just the warriors, but every last soul in the village – women, children, the elderly. None were spared.
The image of a proud soldier clashed violently with the man described in the journal. The man who'd found connection beyond language. The dissonance gnawed at Gabrielle, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. This journal was a window into a life her stepfather had kept hidden, a life that challenged everything she thought she knew about him.
"I knew Mother wasn't his only love," Violette admitted, her voice thick with a mix of sadness and resignation. "But an Indian lover? I never even considered..."
"I don't want to tarnish your memory of him, Sis," Gabrielle interjected worriedly.
"No, Brie," Violette cut her off, meeting her sister's gaze with a newfound determination. "I want to know the truth, no matter what it is."
There was a long silence, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Finally, Gabrielle broke the stillness.
"He wasn't a saint, you know," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I remember... I remember him leaving a lot at night, and whispers about..." she hesitated, the words catching in her throat.
"About other women?" Violette finished softly, understanding dawning in her eyes.
Gabrielle nodded, a flicker of shame coloring her cheeks. "I never wanted to tell you, being so young."
Violette let out a frustrated sigh. "Young? Brie, I'm fifteen! I'm practically old enough to marry!" She added with a touch of sarcasm.
"There's no rush to grow up, you know."
"Speaking of getting married," Violette countered, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "I ran into Monty Gilford at the store last week. He asked about you."
"Violette Catherine!" Gabrielle exclaimed, her cheeks burning a shade darker than before.
"What?" Violette teased, a playful grin stretching across her face. "He's awfully handsome, wouldn't you say?"
"I don't have time for such frivolous things right now," Gabrielle retorted, forcing a stern tone.
"Well, when will you?" Violette persisted, her smile unwavering.
"I'll never have time unless I sort out these accounts." Gabrielle made a show of giving in, her hands in the air and mischief written all over her face.
Chapter 3
Baltimore, Maryland - 1873
Violette, curled up in the window seat, as she poured over her father's journal by flickering candlelight. Hours had bled into one another, the pages turning at a frantic pace fueled by a desperate need to understand the man she barely knew.
Months had passed since he'd first encountered the woman by the creek, their secret meetings documented in a tender account. Violette's heart ached as she read his yearning for a future together, dreams of marriage and a family.
This was a father unlike any she had known. Passionate. Vulnerable. Alive with a zest for life that seemed to have vanished before her eyes. The reserved, stoic man who had raised her felt like a stranger in comparison. Perhaps, she thought, his grief over her mother's passing wasn't the only reason for his emotional withdrawal. Was there a part of him forever bound to the woman by the creek, a secret love story buried beneath years of silence?
A floorboard creaked in the hallway. Startled, Violette glanced up as the door creaked open a sliver.
"Vee, are you ever going to sleep?" Gabrielle asked softly.
Violette forced a smile. "Just a few more entries," she promised, her voice hoarse.
"Your tutor is coming tomorrow." Gabrielle sighed, a worried glint in her eyes.
"I know. I'll get some sleep in a couple of minutes. Promise."
With a gentle smile, Gabrielle closed the door. "Sweet dreams," she whispered.
Violette propped a pillow behind her back, seeking comfort in the worn fabric. But sleep remained elusive. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.
April 18, 1841
It's a constant ache, this silence between us. We share stolen moments, but the words I yearn to say are unspoken because I lack the language to express them fully. It's been too long since I saw her face by the creek. Has she fallen ill? The worry gnaws at me.
I don't even know how to write her name in my own tongue, let alone hers. So, I will call her beautiful, wondrous, my love. Her long black hair flows like a raven's wing, framing eyes that hold the rich depths of earth. Her touch, even the most fleeting, sends a thrill through me.
I miss her voice, her laughter, the warmth of her presence like a fire on a cold night. I pray she is well, and soon I will see her once more. Until then, she fills my thoughts and dreams.
Violette's brow furrowed as she turned the pages, the frustration in her father's writing mirroring her own. Week after agonizing week, entries chronicled his longing, the absence of his "beautiful, wondrous" love a gaping hole by the creek. A pang of sympathy echoed within her. This woman, whoever she was, had clearly changed her mind. Yet, the raw pain that bled through his words was palpable. His usually neat script devolved into a frantic scrawl at times, the urgency and despair was obvious.
Skipping ahead, searching for legible passages, she finally stumbled upon a shift. The writing steadied, the words forming a bittersweet narrative. He described their night of intimacy, a union long desired and finally achieved. Violette skimmed those details with a blush creeping up her cheeks – some boundaries even a curious daughter wouldn't cross. But a genuine smile touched her lips. He was happy again, a flicker of the vibrant man in the journal rekindled. The woman, it seemed, had returned.
Carefully, she closed the leather-bound book, resting it on her chest. She was nearing the end, and a strange sense of possessiveness welled within her. This man, passionate, yearning, a stranger to her reality – she wanted to hold onto him for just a while longer. The ache for "what if" intensified.
Why weren't there more journals? This man, brimming with life, was nothing like the distant figure who haunted the library, drowning his sorrows in drink. A fierce longing bloomed – to know this man, to understand the heartbreak that followed, the reason their paths diverged.
Tomorrow, she vowed, she would find the answer. What became of the woman by the creek? Why did their love story end before it truly began? The weight of unanswered questions pressed down on her, fueling a determination to unravel the mysteries buried within these faded pages.
Chapter 4
Baltimore, Maryland - 1873
Violette stared at the equations scrawled on the board. She'd promised Gabrielle to focus on her studies, but the secrets whispered within her father's journal held a magnetic pull. It was nearing its end, and a pang of loss settled in her stomach.
What if, as she desperately hoped, there were more journals hidden somewhere in the library? Hundreds, maybe thousands of books lined the towering shelves, each one a potential key to unlocking her father's past.
"Violette, are you daydreaming again?"
Mr. Tibbs' voice snapped her back to the present. Guilt washed over her as she stammered an apology and refocused on the equations.
The rest of the lesson crawled by. Numbers swam before her eyes, their meaning lost in the haze of her preoccupation. Violette couldn't fathom the use of mathematics in her life. Universities, the dream Gabrielle had nurtured before their mother's passing, seemed a distant, irrelevant notion. Yet, her sister insisted.
Violette understood. Grief, a cruel hand, had snatched away Gabrielle's dreams of university. Back then, Violette was just twelve, clinging to her older sister as their world tilted on its axis. As dictated by the Laurent family trust, a legal guardian had been appointed, a stranger tasked with overseeing their lives. Gone was the warmth of a mother's love, replaced by a parade of au pairs and private tutors. The vast Laurent manor echoed with their loneliness, a constant reminder of the family they'd lost. Only each other remained, a source of solace in a world turned cold.
James Laurent, had left his entire estate to his daughter, Gabrielle and not his wife Lizbette. Rumors swirled that Mitchell Turner, upon marrying Lizbette, fumed over the trust-controlled funds and their limited allowance. After his wife's death, Mitchell repeatedly petitioned the attorneys for greater access, but he was always denied. This only fueled his bitterness toward his stepdaughter, a bitterness that remained until his final breath.
When Gabrielle turned eighteen, the reins of her family's fortune and vast estate finally fell into her hands. Violette knew Gabrielle could have easily sent her away – a boarding school, perhaps, or even worse, a convent or an orphanage. Her heart sank as she considered the possibility.
Violette wasn't ungrateful. She understood Gabrielle's sacrifice, the dreams deferred for the sake of family. A surge of determination replaced the frustration. She wouldn't let her sister down. She would conquer these damned equations!
The scent of vanilla and almonds drifted through the library doors, a welcome interruption to Violette's studies. She looked up to see Gabrielle framed in the doorway, a silver tray laden with delicate petite fours.
"I think a full day of studies requires a much-deserved reward," Gabrielle announced with a hint of a smile.
Violette's stomach rumbled in agreement.
"How did the lessons go today?" Gabrielle asked, pushing a stray strand of hair from her eyes.
Gabrielle set the tray down and turned to the tutor, Mr. Tibbs, a man whose perpetually furrowed brow seemed eternally at odds with his kind eyes.
"She's a very bright young lady indeed, Miss Laurent," he said, gathering his papers. "But I'm afraid the daydreaming has gotten a bit… excessive."
A faint blush crept up Gabrielle's neck. "Thank you, sir," she said, her voice firm but laced with a touch of sympathy. She turned to Violette, one eyebrow raised playfully. "We'll work on that focus, won't we?"
Violette offered a sheepish grin, already reaching for a pastry. "Yes, ma'am," she mumbled between bites.
Mr. Tibbs' sigh echoed in the vast room before he shuffled out, with Gabrielle in tow as they discussed further lessons. Violette waited until the sound of his retreating footsteps faded entirely before reaching for her father's leather-bound journal, her fingers tracing the familiar inscription on the cover. She flipped to the page marked with a faded ribbon and dove back into the world of her father's erratic script.
The library door creaked open again, and Gabrielle reappeared. Her expression softened as she saw her sister, lost in the pages of the past. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over her – frustration at Violette's inattentiveness and a deep well of empathy for her younger sister's yearning to connect with her father.
Gabrielle herself had only the faintest memory of her own father, a man who died before she could even form a single coherent thought. Her mother, a woman of steely composure and unwavering expectations, never spoke of him.
But the truth, a truth she couldn't quite grasp, was that her childhood had been a cold, sterile landscape devoid of affection. She was six when her mother died and she couldn't remember ever being held by her. "Act like a lady," "elbows off the table," "smile," "look pretty" – these were the mantras her mother had drilled into her, a constant reminder of the role she was expected to play, not the person she was meant to be.
"Violette," she said softly as she sat beside her sister. "I know you're distracted right now, and I understand. After you finish the journal, though, I need you to focus on your lessons, alright?"
Violette looked up, a flicker of gratitude shining in her eyes. "I promise," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She leaned into her sister's embrace, finding solace in the warmth that had become her only constant.
Chapter 5
Baltimore, Maryland - 1873
The snow had ceased falling, leaving the world cloaked in a pristine white blanket. The harbor lay silent, the only movement the gentle lapping of waves against the icy shore. Gabrielle stood on the balcony, the cool night air nipping at her cheeks. She pulled the blanket tighter, her gaze fixed on the moon's shimmering reflection dancing on the water's surface.
"Gabrielle!"
The sharp cry shattered her tranquility. Three more shouts, followed by a flurry of hurried footsteps on the stairs, announced her sister's arrival.
"Vee, I'm in here," Gabrielle called back, a hint of amusement in her voice.
The door burst open, and Violette practically flung herself across the room, the leather-bound journal clutched tightly in her hand. "Brie, you won't believe this!"
Gabrielle chuckled at her sister's infectious enthusiasm. "What is it?" She asked, walking towards Violette and gently closing the balcony doors behind her.
"Here," Violette exclaimed, her voice trembling with excitement, "March second, eighteen forty-two. Listen to what Father wrote." She flipped through the pages, her finger tracing the faded ink until it landed on the specific date.
"'I watch as she grows larger and larger,'" Violette began, reading aloud. "'I am not welcome by her people so I must keep my distance as I always have. I would think with this, with our love so evident, I would be welcome to be with my love.'"
Gabrielle listened intently, a frown creasing her brow. "It's hard to think that your father wrote this?" She admitted. "I just can't imagine him, young and… in love."
"Are you even listening?" Violette countered, her excitement bubbling over. "This isn't the important part! Look, April twentieth, eighteen forty-two. 'I hadn't seen her since she had our child, but I saw her today, with him. I tried to speak to her, but her people have turned her against me. I glimpsed his face, he was perfect.'"
Violette watched, wide-eyed, as the truth sunk in. She reached out, squeezing Gabrielle's hand tightly. The implications of the journal entry hung heavy in the air.
"I have a brother," Violette whispered, the weight of the revelation settling on her shoulders.
"Vee," Gabrielle began cautiously.
But Violette was already lost in a whirlwind of her own making. "I need to find him!" She declared a determined glint in her eyes. The initial shock gave way to a fierce resolve. She jumped off the bed, her excitement was palpable.
"Okay, take a deep breath," Gabrielle said, her voice laced with concern as she grasped her sister's shoulders. "Even if your father did have a child with an Indian woman, finding him would be nearly impossible. We can't just knock on every teepee and ask if someone knows your father."
"But look," she exclaimed, pointing to a specific passage. "Father clearly cared about him. He watched him grow up. All those trips he took – maybe they weren't just business ventures after all."
Gabrielle's brow furrowed. "You think they were about this child?"
"Yes!" Violette's voice trembled with excitement. She pointed to various entries spanning years. "See, these entries? Months, even years apart. But after the woman married someone else, the trips became more frequent. Look at this one: February, 1854. 'He ran away last month. I've been searching for weeks. Finally found him at a mission school in Wyoming. It's all I can do not to take him home and raise him myself, but he's twelve now, and my wife…'" The passage trailed off, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.
"Did Mother know?" Gabrielle finally asked.
Violette shook her head. "There's no mention of it."
"This doesn't make sense." Gabrielle frowned, deep in thought.
"What doesn't?"
"Mother died the next year, he would have been free to do as he wished."
Violette studied the final pages, her expression unreadable. "There are a few scattered notes here, but no proper entries."
"Let me see," Gabrielle said, her voice barely a murmur. Her fingers traced the faded ink, searching for answers.
"Here!" Violette exclaimed, pointing to a line at the bottom of the page. "His full name, birthday, and even his last known location!" A flicker of hope ignited in her eyes. "Brie, we can find him, can't we?"
"Violette," she began, her voice tight, "I don't think this is a good idea."
Violette's smile faltered, replaced by a mixture of confusion and hurt. "Why not? He's my brother."
"Sometimes," Gabrielle said heavily, "it's best to leave the past in the past."
Violette bristled. "What if he was your brother?" She challenged, her voice sharp.
Gabrielle flinched, a flicker of pain crossing her features before she forced them back into stoicism. "Look at the facts, Violette," she said, her voice regaining its calm, measured tone. "Your father knew where he was, yet he chose not to bring him into our lives. There has to be a reason for that."
"Maybe he was afraid," Violette countered, her voice dropping to a pleading whisper. "Maybe he tried and failed. Maybe…"
"Maybe he's not someone we want in our lives," Gabrielle finished for her.
"Brie!" Violette gasped, her heart sinking.
"Violette," Gabrielle said gently, "he's a stranger."
"He's as much my brother as you are my sister," she mumbled, regret twisting in her gut. In her haste, she'd lashed out, oblivious to the pain she'd caused her sister. "Brie, I'm sorry I didn't mean that."
The words seemed to shatter something within Gabrielle. Her shoulders slumped, and tears welled up in her eyes. Before Violette could apologize again, Gabrielle turned away, her voice thick with emotion.
"Please leave my room," she whispered.
Chapter 6
Baltimore, Maryland - 1874
Two weeks had crawled by, and each day a heavy stone lodged in Gabrielle's chest. She hadn't spoken to Violette since their tearful confrontation. Logic told her Violette's outburst was born from the heat of the moment, but the sting of her sister's words lingered. "He's as much my brother as you are my sister." The phrase echoed endlessly, a painful reminder of the sacrifices Gabrielle had made, the burdens she'd shouldered alone.
At eighteen, thrust into the role of guardian, she'd smothered her grief over their mother's death to create a semblance of normalcy for Violette. Yet, here she was, the responsible adult, feeling utterly adrift. The vast emptiness of the house mirrored the hollowness within her.
Violette tapped hesitantly on Gabrielle's door. "Brie," she called softly, "can I please come in?"
Gabrielle sat silently at her vanity and stared at her reflection. Be an adult Brie. She told herself silently.
Be the sister she needs.
The sister she deserves.
The mother she never knew.
Taking a deep breath, Violette pushed the door open a crack. Inside, the room that usually reflected Gabrielle's meticulous nature was in disarray. Clothes lay scattered, and empty glasses dotted the nightstand. But it was the sight of Gabrielle herself that stole Violette's breath.
Gone was the vibrant, composed sister Violette knew. In her place sat a woman shrouded in despair. Her once-warm chestnut hair hung limp and lifeless, framing eyes shadowed by exhaustion. The skin that was usually touched with a healthy glow was pale as if drained of all color.
"Brie," Violette whispered, her voice thick with concern. She crossed the room and gently placed a hand on Gabrielle's shoulder. "I'm so sorry."
Gabrielle flinched slightly but remained fixed on her reflection in the vanity mirror. Violette picked up a brush and began to gently untangle the knots that had formed in Gabrielle's hair. The rhythmic strokes filled the silence, a silent offering of comfort.
For a time, there were only the soft sounds of brushing and the ragged gasps of Violette's indrawn breaths. Finally, Violette spoke again, her voice barely a whisper.
"Sister," she began, kneeling beside Gabrielle and resting her head on her lap. "I'm so ashamed of what I said. I don't know why it came out, but you know I love you."
A long pause followed, and then a hand, hesitant at first, began to stroke Violette's hair in a gesture of comfort.
"I know," Gabrielle finally whispered, her voice hoarse.
Violette lifted her head, searching for confirmation in her sister's eyes. "Do you forgive me?" She pleaded.
Gabrielle met her gaze, a flicker of warmth returning to her eyes. "Of course I do."
Relief washed over Violette, followed by a surge of love for her sister. "I love you, Brie," she declared, throwing her arms around Gabrielle in a tight embrace.
Chapter 7
Baltimore, Maryland - 1874
Gabrielle sorted through the mail at her desk, her eyes scanning the envelopes until they landed on the one she'd been anticipating. With a practiced flick of her wrist, she tore it open, her gaze flitting towards Violette across the room. Her sister sat diligently working on embroidery, an activity that reeked of forced enthusiasm. The pestering about her lost brother had subsided, replaced by a studied focus on studies and music – a transparent attempt to appease Gabrielle. Violette hated needlepoint. Yet, there she was, diligently stitching away, a silent plea for cooperation.
Gabrielle understood. The yearning for family, for a connection to an unknown past, resonated within her own heart. If she had undiscovered kin, wouldn't she fight just as fiercely to find them? A silent vow formed in her mind. She would help Violette find her brother but on her terms. There would be no impulsive cross-country road trips.
Weeks ago, Gabrielle had discreetly contacted a private investigator. An old address and a name – that's all they had to go on. Anticipation flickered across her features as she dove into the report, skimming past the obligatory formalities. Her smile widened as she reached the crucial part.
"This might pique your interest," Gabrielle announced, casually crossing the room and handing the letter to Violette.
Violette's brow furrowed as she examined the addressed envelope. "Mr. Jackson Logan? I don't recall…"
"Just read it," Gabrielle urged, taking a seat opposite her sister.
Violette began reading aloud, her voice betraying a flicker of hope. "Miss Laurent, I thank you for your consideration in this matter. As always, our endeavors are maintained in the strictest confidence…"
"Skip to the middle of the page," Gabrielle interjected gently.
Violette skimmed the letter quickly. "I am pleased to report that I've located the man in question," she read aloud, her voice wavering. "He's the Sheriff of a town called Butte Meadows in the Nebraska Territory. Unfortunately, further investigation into his character or past would've compromised our anonymity. However, if you wish to delve deeper, I can certainly continue."
Gabrielle observed the bewilderment cloud Violette's features. Patiently, she waited as her sister reread the letter in silence.
"I don't get it," Violette finally blurted, her voice laced with confusion.
"I hired a private investigator to find your brother," Gabrielle revealed.
Violette's reaction was explosive. With a shriek, she flung herself into Gabrielle's arms, tears welling up in her eyes. "You did what?" she cried, clinging to her sister.
"Vee, please," Gabrielle cautioned gently, "let's manage your expectations. We need to have a serious conversation before we embark on this journey."
Violette's smile, though slightly subdued, remained radiant. "Are you serious? We're actually going to meet him?"
A small smile played on Gabrielle's lips. "Yes," she confirmed.
"You're truly the best sister in the whole world!" Violette exclaimed, squeezing Gabrielle tightly.
"But there are some ground rules," Gabrielle interjected.
"Anything!" Violette readily agreed.
"First and foremost, you will not be alone with this man, not until I'm satisfied he poses no threat."
"Threat? Why would he be a threat?" Confusion flickered across Violette's face.
"We know absolutely nothing about him," Gabrielle explained logically. "He could be anything - a drunk, a gambler, a con artist, even a murderer. Public places only, until I get a better sense of his character."
Violette nodded readily. "Of course, that makes sense."
"And you need to be mentally prepared for the possibility that he might not want a relationship with you," Gabrielle continued, taking Violette's hands. "I need you to be strong if he chooses not to welcome you into his life."
Violette's brow furrowed as this possibility settled in. "I hadn't considered that," she admitted with a frown.
"Think about it carefully, dear sister," Gabrielle advised, planting a kiss on her cheek. "I'll have Horace book train tickets this week, so start packing. We have to be back here before the board meeting, but that gives us a good month. We should have plenty of time."
Violette's joy rekindled. "Thank you!" She exclaimed, jumping up and engulfing Gabrielle in another tight hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Chapter 8
Baltimore, Maryland - 1874
Violette slumped on her bed, a picture of dejection, as Gabrielle methodically unpacked the bags she had just filled. Of course, in her eagerness to make a good impression, Violette had crammed every fancy dress and piece of jewelry she owned. Now, she watched helplessly as Gabrielle systematically replaced them with more subdued outfits.
"We'll miss the train if you keep this up, you know," Violette grumbled.
Gabrielle shook her head, surveying the overflowing trunks. "Honestly, Violette, you packed more than the Queen herself."
"But I want to look nice!" Violette protested.
"There's a difference between looking nice and overdressing," Gabrielle countered.
"Why can't I bring my best dresses?" Violette pouted, her voice laced with disappointment.
"For one," Gabrielle explained, "we're traveling by train. Nebraska isn't Baltimore, Vee. It's a frontier territory – rough and dusty. Those delicate dresses wouldn't last a day."
"Can't I pack a couple of nicer outfits, then?" Violette pleaded.
"Secondly," Gabrielle continued, firmly shutting a trunk and pushing it aside for Horace to collect, "we don't want to draw attention to ourselves. Two women traveling alone – flaunting wealth is a recipe for trouble."
A slow understanding dawned on Violette's face. "Oh," she murmured, the practicality of her sister's words sinking in.
"And that goes for talking about our background, too," Gabrielle added, her gaze turning serious. "You know the whispers about Father marrying Mother for her money, right?"
Violette nodded curtly.
"I don't want people to make similar assumptions about us," Gabrielle continued. "We need to appear unassuming, for your safety and mine."
"But the money isn't mine." Violette shrugged.
"You know it might as well b.," Gabrielle conceded, raising an eyebrow. "We both benefit from it."
Violette let out a nervous chuckle. "Do you think someone might kidnap me for ransom?"
"It sounds ridiculous now," Gabrielle admitted, pulling her sister into a hug, "but in that kind of situation, the humor would be lost."
"You must get tired, thinking so much about everything," Violette teased.
"Just trying to anticipate any potential dangers," Gabrielle replied. "What if your brother…" she faltered for a moment, searching for the right words. "What if he's only interested in getting close to you for what you have? Wouldn't you want to be sure his intentions are genuine?"
Violette's playful demeanor vanished. "You're right, Brie," she sighed. "As always."
"A compliment at last!" Gabrielle exclaimed a hint of amusement in her voice.
"Don't get too full of yourself," Violette countered with a playful roll of her eyes. But a thoughtful expression lingered on her face, a testament to the weight of her sister's words.
Chapter 9
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
The coach lurched violently, jolting Gabrielle from her position. A groan escaped her lips as she clutched her stomach, a familiar wave of nausea washing over her. Unlike Violette, who sat across from her, wide-eyed and chatty, Gabrielle loathed traveling. The train ride, thankfully, had been tolerable, but this bumpy coach was a different beast entirely.
Before the coach could even come to a full stop, Gabrielle was scrambling out, the nausea threatening to turn into full-blown dizziness. She took deep breaths, willing the contents of her stomach to stay put.
"Brie, are you alright?" Violette was by her side in an instant, a worried crease appearing on her forehead. Wrapping a supportive arm around Gabrielle's waist, she helped her navigate the uneven boardwalk.
"I… I'll be fine," Gabrielle gasped, handing Violette a handful of coins. "Just tell the driver to bring the luggage to the hotel."
A wave of exhaustion washed over her. By the time they reached the room, Gabrielle was already sprawled across the bed, fast asleep. Violette hovered for a moment, torn between the urge to explore the new town and the knowledge that Gabrielle would be furious if she found out. With a sigh, Violette decided exploration could wait.
Chapter 10
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Violette bounced impatiently on the edge of the bed, drumming her fingers against the mattress. Hours ago, she'd risen with the sun, eager to explore the town and, more importantly, meet her brother. But Gabrielle, pale and drained from the journey, had needed rest. Now, Violette watched as Gabrielle meticulously pinned up her hair, the slow movements a stark contrast to Violette's frenetic energy.
"I'm starving," Violette declared, clutching her stomach for dramatic effect.
Gabrielle chuckled, securing the final braid. "I wouldn't blame you. After yesterday, the thought of food made me nauseous, but now..." she grimaced, "well, let's just say I'm re-acquainted with hunger pangs."
"Honestly, I was tempted to gnaw on my shoes by nightfall," Violette confessed with a dramatic sigh. "But thank goodness for sleep."
Gabrielle smiled. "I apologize for missing dinner. We'll make it up with a hearty breakfast, then head to meet your brother."
A radiant smile lit up Violette's face. "Thanks, so much, Brie! You're the best."
Following Gabrielle out of the room, Violette marveled at her sister's strength. Despite the grueling journey, Gabrielle remained focused, a pillar of support for Violette's bubbling excitement.
The sisters were directed to a cozy corner cafe across the street. Gabrielle, surprised by the town's charm, found herself reevaluating her preconceived notions. It wasn't the dusty, wild frontier town she'd envisioned. Orderly rows of shops hummed with activity, families bustling in and out, and children, unsupervised but seemingly carefree, played on the boardwalk.
"Ready to go?" Violette tapped her fingernails on the table, impatience flickering in her eyes.
Gabrielle chuckled, finishing her coffee. "Not quite. Let a girl finish her breakfast in peace, will you?"
With a mock pout, Violette acquiesced as Gabrielle finally drained her cup. Stepping out of the cafe, Violette practically skipped ahead as she made her way towards the jail house.
"Remember, Vee," Gabrielle cautioned, catching her sister's arm before they crossed the street. "This might come as a surprise for him. He could be hesitant, or angry. You have to realize he grew up without a father. Be prepared for anything."
Violette nodded resolutely. "I know, Brie. I just... I want to be the one to tell him."
Gabrielle squeezed her sister's hand, her heart swelling with admiration for Violette's courage. Stepping through the swinging doors of the sheriff's office, they found themselves face-to-face with three men. All three turned simultaneously, their gazes landing on the sisters.
Gabrielle instinctively took a step back, allowing Violette to take the lead. As her eyes swept over the men, she dismissed the two with badges - one with dark auburn hair, the other with nondescript features. Her gaze lingered on the third man.
He bore a strong resemblance to Violette – the same brown eyes, the same broad brow. A shock of recognition jolted through Gabrielle. She hadn't anticipated such a familial resemblance. A lump formed in her throat, making it difficult to swallow.
"Can I help you ladies?" Buck inquired, a hint of amusement in his voice as he observed the stunned silence.
Gabrielle cleared her throat, forcing a smile. She waited a beat longer, hoping Violette would gather her composure, but her sister remained rooted to the spot, her wide eyes locked on the Sheriff.
"Hello, sir," Gabrielle finally said, stepping forward and extending her hand. "I'm Gabrielle Laurent. This is my sister, Violette Turner."
"Buck Cross." Buck shook Gabrielle's hand firmly, his gaze flickering to Violette with a curious glint. "Miss Laurent, a pleasure. And you, Miss Turner." He offered a hesitant smile towards Violette, his hand hovering in the air before dropping back to his side.
It wasn't uncommon for folks from out of town to be taken aback by the sight of an Indian Sheriff, but Violette's reaction was on another level. Concern flickered across Buck's face as he observed her motionless form.
"I apologize, Sheriff Cross," Gabrielle interjected, her voice laced with a hint of urgency. "We were hoping for a few moments of your time if you wouldn't mind. Perhaps in private?"
"Of course, ma'am," Buck readily agreed. He gestured towards a chair across from his desk. "Take a seat."
Turning to his deputies, he issued a quick dismissal. "Kid, tell Lou I'll be a bit late for dinner tonight. Jenson, could you give me a minute here?"
The two deputies nodded curtly and exited the office, leaving a tense silence in their wake. Buck studied his peculiar visitors. The taller, Gabrielle, with her composed demeanor and protective stance beside her sister, seemed to be the elder. Her concern for the younger brunette was evident. Buck felt uneasy as the girl kept staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes.
"What can I do for you ladies?" Buck finally asked, his voice gentle, as he settled into his chair behind the desk.
A few moments of silence stretched between them. Gabrielle nudged Violette discreetly, hoping to prompt her. Suddenly, a single, startling sentence shattered the quiet.
"I'm your sister," Violette blurted out.
"Violette!" Gabrielle exclaimed, her hand flying up to cover her sister's mouth. "Delicate, remember?" She hissed in a desperate whisper.
Buck's brow furrowed in confusion. "What's going on here?" He questioned, his gaze darting between the two sisters. The situation had taken a bizarre turn, and Buck was determined to untangle the mystery that these women presented.
"Sheriff, please accept my apologies," Gabrielle began, a strained smile plastered on her face. She placed a worn leather-bound journal on the desk with a soft thud. "This might come as a considerable shock, but I implore you to hear us out."
Buck's brow furrowed as he eyed the book, his curiosity battling with a sense of wary apprehension. "Alright, ladies," he finally conceded, leaning back in his chair.
"Does the name Mitchell Turner mean anything to you?" Gabrielle inquired, launching into their carefully constructed explanation.
Buck shook his head slowly. "Can't say it does. Though the name Turner ain't exactly uncommon around here."
"He was my stepfather," Gabrielle clarified, deciding a concise summary was their best hope for now. "Violette's father. He passed away a few years ago."
A flicker of sympathy softened Buck's features. "Sorry to hear that, ma'am."
"While sorting through his belongings," Gabrielle continued, taking a deep breath, "we stumbled upon this journal." She pushed the book towards him, her heart pounding in her chest. "He claims you're his son."
The air crackled with tension as Buck stared at the journal, his expression a mask of conflicting emotions. Anger, disbelief, a flicker of sadness – it all swirled in his dark eyes.
"You're sayin' this book was written by my father?" His voice was a low rumble, laced with suspicion. "Have you read it?" Buck demanded, his gaze darting between the sisters.
"I have not." Gabrielle shook her head. "Violette has—"
Buck slammed his hand flat on the desk, the sound echoing through the office. "Look, lady," he growled, his voice thick with barely contained rage, "I don't know what kind of game you're playing here, but I ain't interested." He rose abruptly, his movements predatory as he stalked towards them.
Gabrielle held her ground, her hand instinctively reaching for Violette's arm in a silent gesture of support. Fear flickered in Violette's eyes, but her chin remained stubbornly high.
Buck reached them in a heartbeat, his grip tightening on their arms with a bruising force. "I don't want any part of your sick delusions!" He roared, dragging them towards the door.
"Sir, please!" Gabrielle pleaded. "We're truly sorry to have upset you."
His voice laced with venomous sarcasm, Buck sneered, "What did you think would happen, huh? Bringing up the details of my mother's violation, written down for generations to gawk at?"
Gabrielle's eyes widened in confusion. "Violation? I... I don't understand," she stammered, a knot of dread tightening in her stomach. She glanced at Violette, whose face mirrored her own bewilderment.
"Get out!" Buck bellowed, shoving them both out of the office. He slammed the door shut with a resounding bang, the sound echoing through the street.
Only then did Buck realize he hadn't returned the journal. He spun around, his gaze falling on the worn leather book lying innocently on his desk. An unexplainable urge, a mix of anger and morbid curiosity, drew him towards it.
The last thing he wanted to do was delve into the memories of the man he loathed, the man who'd destroyed his mother. Yet, the journal sat there, an unwelcome beacon, and Buck found himself reaching for it, his hand trembling slightly.
Chapter 11
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Silence filled their hotel room, the crying had finally ceased. Violette had cried herself to sleep three nights now and Gabrielle was trying her best to comfort her but she was exhausted and hungry. Knowing her sister would be asleep for the night she slipped out quietly to grab a bite to eat at the restaurant.
Across the street, at the restaurant, Kid spotted the dark-haired woman the moment she entered. News of the sisters' encounter with Buck had become the talk of the town, and everyone, including Kid, had assumed they'd hightailed it out after the explosive scene. He exchanged a worried glance with Louise, who, unlike Kid, couldn't resist her curiosity.
"That her?" Louise asked, following her husband's gaze towards the newcomer.
"Yeah," Kid confirmed in a hushed tone.
"Buck said he was questioning their motives." Louise stood up and set her napkin on the table. "I say we find out."
"Lou what are you doing?" Kid sighed and watched his wife make her way through the tables and approach the woman. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat when he saw his wife link arms with the stranger and all escorted her to their table.
"Have a seat, Gabrielle." Louise smiled warmly and sat across from her. "My husband tells me he saw you and your sister the other day in town."
"That's right," Gabrielle replied, surprised by the unexpected invitation.
"Ran into her at the Sheriff's station, wasn't that it?" Louise continued the conversation, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Isn't that what you told me, Kid?"
Kid mumbled a noncommittal grunt, his attention still fixed on his plate. He could feel Louise's playful nudge under the table, urging him to participate.
"You planning on moving here?" Louise inquired sweetly. "Or just visiting?"
"Just visiting," Gabrielle responded with a grateful smile. "Thank you for inviting me to your table. It's very kind of you."
"We're a welcoming town here," Louise chirped between bites of her meal. "Where are you from?"
"Baltimore," Gabrielle answered, taking a sip of water.
"That's a long way to come visit out in the middle of nowhere, that's for sure!" Louise chuckled. "Are you visiting relatives?"
"My sister was, um," Gabrielle hesitated, searching for the right words. "She wanted to come out here. Have you lived here long?"
"We moved here after the war, myself and my husband."
"It's lovely," Gabrielle agreed, glancing around the cozy diner.
"And we have a good sheriff, keeps things in line," Louise added meaningfully.
"Yes he seamed like a nice man." Gabrielle replied guardedly.
"Kid here said you had to speak with him the other day," Louise pressed, her gaze fixed on Gabrielle.
Despite the casual tone, Gabrielle couldn't help but sense a hidden agenda. "Oh, no, nothing serious," she said with a reassuring smile. "My sister just wanted to ask him a few questions."
"Forgive me, you don't look much alike." Kid interjected, subtly steering the conversation away from Buck. He noticed the difference between the sisters when he'd first seen them together. Gabrielle was statuesque, with dark brown hair, almost black, and fair skin like alabaster. Her sister, seemingly younger, was much shorter with soft golden brown hair and a more tanned complexion.
"Very observant," Gabrielle replied, a thin smile playing on her lips. "She's my half-sister."
"My sister is fifteen." Louise shook her head. "You would think they wouldn't be as much. But I swear they were easier when they were younger."
"The teenage years are difficult," Gabrielle agreed with a nod. "My sister is turning sixteen soon. She thinks she's ready to marry and have kids of her own."
"Why are they in such a hurry to grow up?" Louise chuckled.
"I'm a few years older than my sister," Gabrielle admitted, "and honestly, sometimes I wish I was fifteen again."
Louise's curiosity piqued. "How old are you?" She inquired.
"Eighteen," Gabrielle replied.
Louise's eyebrows shot up. "Eighteen? And your parents let you and your sister travel all this way by yourselves?"
Gabrielle shook her head. "My stepfather passed away a few years ago," she explained, her voice softening. "I've been taking care of my sister ever since our mother died."
"That must be incredibly difficult," Louise said sympathetically.
"We manage," Gabrielle said with a determined nod.
For the first time since meeting Gabrielle, the conversation flowed naturally. Louise seemed to have gathered enough information and was content to let the conversation take a more casual turn. Gabrielle, in turn, found herself genuinely enjoying their company. They seemed like kind people.
The three continued chatting over dinner for another hour before finally saying their goodbyes. As Louise and Kid walked home, Louise held her husband's hand tightly. Before reaching their porch, she stood on her tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on his lips.
"What was that for?" Kid grinned.
"For being such a nice man." She replied with a wink.
"Is that all?" He teased.
Louise's smile turned sly. "And for putting up with your wife's constant prying into other people's business."
"Ah, that," Kid chuckled, raising an eyebrow.
"But," Louise continued, pushing open the door, "she seems like a really sweet girl."
"Lou, just stay out of it," Kid warned. "Trust me, I haven't seen Buck in two days, but he wasn't in a good mood when I did. I've never seen him so angry."
"I'm not saying anything other than she seems sweet."
"Well, get up those stairs," Kid said with a playful grin as he swatted her bottom lightly.
"Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?" Louise retorted with a giggle, dashing up the stairs to their bedroom.
Chapter 12
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Sunlight slanted weakly through dusty curtains. A lump beneath a thick quilt stirred as Gabrielle's voice, deceptively cheerful, sliced through the morning quiet.
"Vee, time to get up!"
The lump flinched, a muffled "No!" escaping from beneath the covers.
"Violette I did not come to this podunk town in the middle of nowhere to spend my days stuck in a hotel or sneaking out to grab food alone." Gabrielle sighed.
A tear-streaked face peeked out. "I know," Vee mumbled, her voice thick with sleep and sorrow. "You said he might not be receptive, but..."
Gabrielle sat on the creaking bed, gently rubbing Vee's back. "I know, honey. This is hard."
Vee's lower lip trembled. "I just want to go home. Everywhere I turn, I'm afraid I'll see him."
"I will bring you food today." Gabrielle stood up and ran a brush through her hair quickly. "But this is the last day Vee. If you want food tomorrow you will need to leave this hotel room."
"When is our train ride home?"
"A couple days."
"Ok."
Gabrielle laughed as her sister grabbed the thick quilt and flopped back onto the bed burying her tiny body. She couldn't be too hard on her sister. This was her first heartbreak. She should have known better than to try and shield Violette from everything.
Stepping off the creaky hotel stairs, Gabrielle squinted as sunlight blasted her after the dim room. The worn boardwalk creaked softly beneath her light steps as she headed toward the general store. Browsing the shelves overflowing with soaps and perfumes, Gabrielle couldn't help but be impressed by the variety for such a small town.
"Miss Laurent? May I speak with you, please?"
Gabrielle whirled around, startled, and dropped the soaps she was holding. She knelt quickly to gather them.
"Here, let me help you." Buck retrieved the soaps, placing them back on the shelf before opening the door for her.
"I'm so sorry, Sheriff," Gabrielle stammered as they walked side-by-side. "I apologize for anything that—"
"Miss Laurent," Buck interrupted gently, guiding her towards his office. He pulled out a chair for her and closed the door for privacy. "I wanted to apologize to you and your sister for the other day."
"It's alright," she offered a small smile. "I imagine it must have been quite a surprise."
"I read it," Buck stated, taking a document from a drawer and placing it on the table. "And I don't want to see it again."
Gabrielle reached for it quickly, her discomfort evident as she clasped her hands over it while seated. "I'm truly sorry."
"I understand now," Buck continued, focusing on her. "Why you were so confused the other day when I was angry."
"To hear you might have a sister… I mean, it could throw anyone—"
"No, it's not about that," Buck interjected, his gaze fixed on her. "That man." He scowled at the document. "The account in that book isn't what happened."
"What do you mean?" Gabrielle pressed. "Are you not his son?"
"No, that part's true," Buck confirmed.
Buck paced behind his desk, rage simmering beneath a tightly controlled exterior. This unsuspecting woman held a horrifying truth: a journal detailing his father's monstrous acts against his mother. It spoke of his father's delusional obsession and the stalking that had shattered their lives.
"You should speak to your sister," the woman said, rising slowly. "I only—"
He forced a calm tone. "He forced himself on my mother."
Shock washed over Gabrielle's face. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea. Vee didn't know—"
"Of course not," he interrupted, the bitterness in his voice evident. "That's what that madman's scribblings made clear."
"Sir," she said softly, approaching him and placing a hand on his arm. "Would you consider...meeting your sister?"
"Why?" The word was a harsh expulsion of breath.
"She's innocent, as you are."
Innocent like him? The thought had never crossed Buck's mind. He was the product of a monster, forever marked by his mother's desperate act, a death he felt a terrible burden for.
Chapter 13
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
The air crackled with nervous energy as Violette flitted between dresses. "Vee," Gabrielle finally warned, exasperation lacing her voice, "if you change your outfit one more time, I'm dragging you out of here naked!"
"Gabrielle!" Violette giggled, the sound tinged with a hint of hysteria. "I want to look perfect."
"He's already seen you, remember?" Gabrielle reminded her gently.
"Right," Violette mumbled, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure he thinks I'm an idiot. No wonder he didn't want to admit we're related. Just the idiot girl who stared at him."
Gabrielle squeezed her sister's hand reassuringly. "Not true, Vee. Not at all." She held back the truth about their father, a secret Buck would have to reveal himself.
Violette's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "So, what magic words did you use to change his mind?"
"Nothing special," Gabrielle hedged. "He just happened to see me, he read the journal, and… agreed to meet you."
Violette pirouetted in a sunshine-yellow dress. "How does this look?"
"Beautiful," Gabrielle confirmed, forcing a smile.
A flicker of movement caught her eye. There, clutched in Violette's hand, was the damning journal. Without a second thought Gabrielle snatched it away, tossing it onto the bed. Violette's protest was half-hearted, easily extinguished.
For their meeting with Buck, Gabrielle had chosen a neutral location - the home of friends who lived on the outskirts of town. Familiar faces would hopefully ease the tension. As they approached the house, Gabrielle's shoulders relaxed at the sight of Kid and Lou, the warm couple she'd met a few days ago.
"Welcome!" Boomed Louise from the porch, ushering them inside. "Dinner's almost ready, come on in."
Gabrielle introduced Violette with a smile. "Lou, this is my sister, Violette."
"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Violette mumbled shyly.
"None of that ma'am business. Call me Lou." Louise ushered them into the house. "This is my husband, Kid. And that one over there is my brother, Jeremiah, and my sister, Teresa."
"Nice to meet you all," Violette mumbled again, taking a seat at the table, and clutching her hands in her lap.
"Buck ain't here yet," Louise announced, setting down glasses. "Probably got held up in town."
"Let me help you," Gabrielle offered.
"Would you get the door?" Louise heard the soft knock as she set out the plates.
Gabrielle opened the door to find Buck standing there. "Sorry I'm late," he said with a smile.
"Thanks again," Gabrielle murmured. "This means a lot to her."
"It does to me too," Buck replied.
"Buck, this is Violette," Gabrielle said, gesturing to the empty chair beside her.
"Nice to meet you," Buck said, taking the seat.
"Let's eat before everything gets cold," Louise said, placing a plate of warm biscuits on the table.
Conversation flowed throughout the meal. Stories of their youth filled the air, with Lou, Kid, and Buck regaling everyone with tales of their time riding for the Pony Express and serving in the war. Gabrielle, was content to observe the interaction between her new friends and her sister and Buck.
Despite her initial reservations, Gabrielle had to admit Buck seemed like a good man. Her anxieties, fueled by childhood stories and her stepfather's remarks, had painted a bloody picture of Indians. Buck wasn't a murdering savage, nor was he a thief or a drunk. He upheld the law and had the respect of the town. No, he was nothing like how Indians had been described to her. He was kind, intelligent, and handsome. A blush crept up Gabrielle's cheeks as she realized she was staring at him.
Watching Buck converse with her sister, his patience and tenderness evident, a pang of loneliness shot through Gabrielle. While she was happy Violette had found her brother, it brought to light Gabrielle's own isolation. They had been alone, only having each other, but now Violette had Buck.
The conversation stretched into the night. By the time they said their goodbyes, darkness had cloaked the town. Buck insisted on walking them back to the hotel.
"I'm so glad we met," Violette said with a beaming smile as they entered the lobby.
"Truthfully, it was quite a surprise," Buck admitted. "But I'm very happy to know you now."
Violette's embrace was warm and impulsive. "Me too," she chirped, clearly overjoyed.
"Would you ladies like to meet me for lunch tomorrow?" Buck invited, his gaze flitting between the sisters.
"Of course!" Violette practically vibrated with excitement.
"Around noon then?" Buck confirmed.
"Goodnight, brother!" Violette beamed.
Buck leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Goodnight, little sister."
Beaming, Violette grabbed Gabrielle's hand. "Brie! This was the best day ever!"
"I'm truly happy for you," Gabrielle offered with a genuine smile, leading the way up the stairs to their room.
"He's amazing, isn't he?" Violette gushed.
Gabrielle hummed noncommittally as she unlocked the door, her fingers already working at the buttons on her dress.
Violette's excitement crackled in the air. "I don't think I'll sleep a wink tonight!" She declared, glancing at Gabrielle's swift undressing.
"Well, try to keep it down then," Gabrielle teased.
"You were quiet tonight," Violette observed, settling onto the bed and watching her sister.
"There was a lot to take in," Gabrielle admitted with a tired smile. Crawling into bed, she patted the space beside her. "Would you get ready for bed? I'm exhausted."
"Can't we just talk for a little longer?" Violette pleaded, her voice brimming with barely contained excitement.
"Aren't you tired?" Gabrielle countered, her eyelids already heavy.
"Not a bit!" Violette bounced around the room, her joy infectious.
"Well, I am," Gabrielle said with a sigh.
"How can I possibly sleep?" Violette exclaimed, her voice filled with wide-eyed wonder.
"Get ready for bed, please," Gabrielle pleaded, tossing a nightgown at Violette.
"Do you like him?"
"He seems like a very nice man," Gabrielle conceded, carefully choosing her words.
"I can't imagine why Father wouldn't have contacted him," Violette frowned. "Why wouldn't he have wanted Buck in our lives?"
"I don't know," Gabrielle mumbled, guilt twisting in her gut. The weight of the secret Buck hadn't shared hung heavy in the air.
"At least we found that journal," Violette said on a brighter note.
"Goodnight," Gabrielle said firmly, stifling a yawn and blowing out the bedside lamp.
"But I'm still dressed, Brie!" Violette protested.
"Well, you talked for so long, you'll just have to get undressed in the dark." Gabrielle teased.
"Fine," Violette grumbled, quickly peeling off her dress and tossing it onto the floor with a rustle.
"Now go to sleep," Gabrielle instructed gently.
"Gabrielle, what do you think..." Violette began, her voice trailing off.
"Vee, goodnight," Gabrielle said firmly, but with a touch of tenderness.
"Goodnight," Violette giggled, finally giving in to sleep's pull. She snuggled into the bed beside her sister, a contented sigh escaping her lips.
Chapter 14
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Buck adjusted his hat, pushing back his hair as he lingered in the doorway of the jail. He watched Violette walk away, her steps measured and pensive as she navigated the muddy street. A city girl, he thought with a smile. The whole situation felt unreal, a whirlwind he hadn't anticipated. Yet, the idea of having a sister, even one tied to the man he despised, sparked a genuine warmth within him.
There was no denying the family resemblance. Violette shared his smile, though her features were softer, more delicate. Perhaps that was their father's legacy, a cruel twist considering the man's darkness. A pang of curiosity snaked through him. Was there any shred of decency in the man who sired him? Buck had always viewed him as pure evil, a fear that had haunted him as a young man, the worry that the evil somehow resided within him too.
"Good afternoon, brother," Violette's voice startled him from his thoughts. She stood a few feet away, a hesitant smile gracing her lips.
"Afternoon," he replied, tipping his hat in greeting. "Your sister... is she joining us?"
"Oh, Gabrielle said she had some errands to run." Violette reached out, her arm brushing his as she slipped it through his.
"Just us then, is it?" He returned the smile, his hand finding hers gently. He led the way across the street, towards the welcoming warmth of the restaurant.
"That's perfectly alright with me," Violette assured him, her smile brighter this time.
"Well, according to reliable sources," Buck chuckled, "Rose's fried chicken is on the menu today." The prospect of a delicious meal and good company lifted his spirits further.
Chapter 15
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Gabrielle pressed her nose against the cool windowpane, watching Buck and Violette disappear into the restaurant across the street. Part of her wanted to give them space, to let them forge their own connection. But a stronger, more selfish pang of loneliness gnawed at her. Being the third wheel wasn't appealing.
With a brisk nod, she tied her boots and headed downstairs. A stroll through the town would be a welcome distraction, a way to fill the time.
"Gabrielle!" Lou's voice rang out from across the street.
A smile spread across her face as she saw the petite woman hurrying towards her, oblivious to the mud splattering her pristine dress. "Lou, it's good to see you again."
"Fancy meeting you here! Teresa and I were just headin' to the dress shop." Lou announced breathlessly. "Would you care to join us?"
Intrigued, Gabrielle raised an eyebrow. "Is there a special occasion?"
"Teresa needs a new dress for church," Lou explained, linking arms with her sister. "Seems like she's sprouting like a weed these days. Soon she'll be taller than me!"
Teresa giggled, glancing playfully at Lou. "There's no way that's happening, silly."
"No matter your height," Lou declared with a mock frown, pushing open the shop door, "I'll always be your big sister."
Turning to Gabrielle with a hopeful smile, Teresa piped up, "Do you go to church?"
Gabrielle hesitated, caught off guard. "Um, no, I haven't in many years."
Teresa's face fell. "You should come with us! Please, please say yes!"
The unexpected invitation sent a wave of uncertainty through Gabrielle. Yet, seeing the little girl's hopeful eyes, she found herself blurting out, "Sure, we'd love to."
"Wonderful!" Lou beamed, ushering them both towards the counter. "Good day, Mrs. Owen."
A warm smile greeted them. "Hello, ladies! Just finished your dress, Teresa," Mrs. Owen announced, beckoning the young girl to follow. "I think you'll adore it."
As Teresa disappeared into the back room, Gabrielle found herself drawn to the vibrant fabrics displayed around the shop. Her fingers brushed against a collection of delicate lace trimmings, then lingered on a luxurious bolt of blue velvet. A dreamy sigh escaped her lips.
"Wouldn't a gown made of that be something?" Louise remarked, her voice laced with amusement.
"It certainly would be exquisite," Gabrielle agreed, running her hand over the soft fabric.
"And no doubt cost a small fortune," Louise added with a knowing chuckle.
"True enough," Gabrielle admitted with a smile.
A comfortable silence settled between them. Louise squeezed Gabrielle's arm gently. "You know, you don't have to come to church if you're not comfortable. Teresa's invitation was quite sweet, but you shouldn't feel pressured."
"It's alright," Gabrielle assured her. "It was kind of her to ask. I just wasn't raised in a religious household, that's all."
Louise's eyes softened with understanding. "I see. Well, coming from Baltimore, I imagine you're used to a different kind of life, filled with all sorts of luxuries."
The rich velvet fabric sent Gabrielle on a nostalgic journey. Her fingers traced its smooth surface, conjuring a vivid memory. "My mother had a dress like this once," she murmured, her voice soft and distant. As she spoke, her eyes glazed over, lost in the past.
"She must have looked stunning," Louise remarked gently.
Gabrielle continued, stroking the fabric as if it held the memory itself. "They didn't go out much, my mother and stepfather. But I remember this one night... Christmas Eve, I think. They were going to a party, and she wore this deep blue velvet gown. And pearls." A wistful smile touched her lips. "She looked so elegant."
"Sounds like a beautiful memory," Louise said sympathetically.
A sharp breath pulled Gabrielle back to the present. "There weren't many nights like that," she admitted, the joy fading from her voice. "She passed away when I was young. Things were never the same after that."
Louise's hand rested comfortingly on Gabrielle's arm. "I'm so sorry to hear that," she said softly.
Looking up, Gabrielle forced a smile. "Thank you." Abruptly changing the subject, she asked, "What does your husband do, Louise?"
"He runs the livery stable in town," Louise replied with a chuckle. "And he helps Buck out part-time as a deputy when there's a need."
A happy peal of laughter echoed through the shop as Teresa emerged from the back, twirling in her new dress. The cream and blue fabric swirled around her.
"Teresa, you look so beautiful!" Louise exclaimed, her eyes twinkling.
"The color suits you perfectly," Gabrielle agreed, offering a warm smile.
Teresa, beaming with pride, curtseyed with a flourish. "Would you like to join us for lunch?" She asked, her voice full of innocent charm.
"Louise mentioned you have fresh buttermilk bread," Gabrielle said, her eyes meeting Louise's with a hint of amusement. "Honestly, how could I resist that? Or, for that matter, the lovely company?"
Chapter 16
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
"Well Buck I think you know everything there is to know about me." Violette said with a light laugh, taking his arm as they strolled back towards the jail. "Is there anything you'd like to know about our father?"
Buck hesitated, a furrow forming between his brows. "Part of me does want to know about him," he admitted. "But growing up, all I felt was hatred. Pure, unadulterated hatred."
"Because he abandoned your mother?" Violette asked innocently.
He shook his head sharply, his jaw clenching. "There's more to it than that," he muttered, she was too young and he didn't want to tarnish her views of her father. "Why don't you tell me your fondest memory of him?"
"Well," She bit her lower lip and thought hard about her favorite memory. "He used to tuck me into bed at night when I was really little. I remember his bristled mustache tickling my cheek when he kissed me goodnight."
"Was he a good father to you?"
"I think he was the best he could be." She frowned slightly.
"And your mother, she died when you were how old?"
"Three."
"Do you remember her?"
"Most of my memories are from stories Brie tells," Violette continued, a wistful smile playing on her lips. "But that one memory... it's so vivid. She smelled like roses. Every time I pass roses in bloom I smell them and instantly think of my mother."
"Your father must have truly loved your mother," he said gently. "Not to remarry..."
"He had a lot to handle with the estate." She mumbled.
She didn't want to tell him their father was a philandering drunk. He already had enough hate in his heart for their father, she didn't want to add more.
"Estate?"
"Until Brie was eighteen, then she took over."
Violette's heart fluttered in her chest. The words had tumbled out before she could stop them, a careless betrayal of Gabrielle's trust. She darted a panicked glance at Buck.
"What is it?" Buck noticed the distress in her expression.
"I wasn't supposed to mention any of that. It just slipped out," Violette confessed, her voice barely a whisper.
"Don't worry Vee, I won't mention it."
"Thank you!" She hugged him impulsively. "Brie's well… she's been under a lot of stress lately."
"Sounds like your sister has a lot of responsibilities." He said as he pulled open the door and set his hat on his desk.
Violette sank into the chair across from Buck, the weight of her secret settling heavily on her shoulders. "She does," she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of helplessness. "It seems like the whole world rests on her shoulders sometimes. She worries about me, of course, and about the family business. Father wasn't exactly...financially responsible."
"What kind of business is your family in?" A flicker of surprise crossed Buck's face.
"Gabrielle's family." Violette corrected. "It was her father's family. They had an import business and some factories before the war. I'm not sure what the situation is now, but overheard her talking to the attorney about some of the factories being sold. I'm not sure if that was my father or something that she is doing." She shrugged helplessly. "Though, like I said, I wasn't supposed to hear any of that."
"When you said you weren't suppose to mention anything I assumed that meant there was something illegal going on." Buck laughed.
"No, no, Gabrielle is just very private."
"I can understand that." Buck smiled warmly. "You two seem very different."
"Do we?"
"Well yes." Buck laughed. "You, Vee are a chatterbox. Vivacious and all smiles. You're the center of the party. Your sister is quiet, reserved, she seems guarded."
"She's changed a bit since father died." Violette smiled lightly. "She's always been half mother half-sister, but with the stress of everything she's become consumed with fixing everything. The house, her family's business, getting me into a university."
"University?" Buck nodded. "That sounds like a great opportunity."
"Can I be honest?"
"I hope you will be," Buck replied, his voice warm and inviting.
"I don't really want to go to school." She shook her head.
Buck studied her for a moment, his brow furrowed in concern. "No?"
"I want to get married and have a family." Violette met his gaze.A flicker of surprise flitted across Buck's face, then softened into understanding. "There's nothing wrong with that, Vee," he said sincerely. "It's a noble dream, to have a family. You don't think you can go to school and have a family?" He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers thoughtfully.
"I guess I can." She confessed. "Gabrielle just wants me to go because she never got to."
Buck nodded slowly. "And you feel indebted to her, don't you? For taking care of you when you were younger, putting her own dreams on hold."
Violette met his gaze, a well of unspoken emotions swirling in her eyes. "Yes," she whispered.
"You should consider your options carefully, Vee," Buck said gently. "Education can open doors, give you a foundation to build your future on. But it's also important to be honest with yourself and your sister. You deserve to pursue your own happiness, whatever that may look like."
Violette mulled over what he'd said, feeling a glimmer of optimism. "Is this what it's like to get advice from a brother?" She asked, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.
Buck chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "I guess it is," he said, his eyes twinkling.
Chapter 17
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Two weeks had passed since Violette's first encounter with Buck, and their connection deepened with each passing day. A pang of loneliness stabbed at Gabrielle as she watched the sunlight stream through the window, illuminating the empty space beside her in the bed. Every day in Butte Meadows felt like a subtle goodbye, a growing distance blooming between her and her sister. It was a difficult truth to swallow, and Gabrielle knew her moping wasn't helping matters.
Throwing off the covers with a determined sigh, she rose and wrapped her robe around her bare shoulders. Noon had long passed a stark contrast to her usual early mornings. Their extended stay hadn't been planned, and a knot of worry tightened in her stomach as she considered the state of the family business. The weight of financial burdens left unaddressed for far too long pressed heavily on her.
One thing was clear: Violette's desires, whatever they may be, could no longer be indulged. Whether her sister wanted to leave or not it wasn't an option any longer. With a resolute set to her jaw, Gabrielle dressed swiftly and grabbed her satchel.
Train tickets home were an immediate necessity. Additionally, a letter to the attorney assuring him she would be in Baltimore within the month. In her absence, she needed to ensure a steady flow of funds to keep the factories operational and maintain their household. As she left the hotel room, a single, silent prayer escaped her lips – a plea for a smooth journey home and a resolution with her sister.
Chapter 18
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Violette wrinkled her nose as Gabrielle meticulously pinned up her long hair in a complicated style. "Why are we going to church?" She asked, eyeing the hairpins with suspicion.
Gabrielle chuckled, a single braid escaping her hairstyling efforts. "Because we were invited by the McClouds, and I thought it would be interesting to see how a normal family spends a Sunday morning."
Violette's frown deepened. "Are you saying we aren't normal?" She questioned, her voice laced with a hint of hurt.
"Definitely not normal," Gabrielle teased, tossing a simple blue calico dress at her sister. "But normal can be a bit boring, wouldn't you agree? Now hurry up, we don't want to be late."
A flicker of excitement sparked in Violette's eyes. "Do you think Buck will be there?" She asked hopefully.
Gabrielle shrugged, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "It's possible, I suppose. Though I wouldn't expect him to be a Christian."
Violette's brow furrowed in confusion. "Are we Christians?"
"We both were baptized as babies," Gabrielle explained, her voice softer. "Mother sent me to a Catholic school for a while when I was younger."
Violette's gaze drifted to the window, a pensive expression settling on her features. "Do you believe in God?" she asked after a moment of thoughtful silence.
Gabrielle hesitated. "I wouldn't say I'm an expert on scripture or church services," she admitted honestly. "But yes, I do believe in something bigger than ourselves. A higher power, maybe."
They finished dressing in comfortable silence, the weight of Gabrielle's words hanging in the air. Stepping outside, they set off for the short walk to the church. A warm smile bloomed on Gabrielle's face as she saw the McCloud family holding two seats near the back for them.
The last time Gabrielle had set foot in a church, she was a young girl attending a formal Catholic service. This small, Protestant church, with its simple wooden pews and friendly atmosphere, felt entirely different. She stole a glance at Violette, noticing the mixture of curiosity and bewilderment on her sister's face. A pang of guilt twisted in Gabrielle's stomach. Suddenly she felt as though she had failed her sister. Perhaps she should have introduced religion into their lives.
Chapter 19
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
As the McCloud family gathered around their expansive dining table for their usual Sunday dinner, a familiar pang of longing tugged at Gabrielle's heart. Never having experienced the warmth of a large extended family, or much of a family at all except for Violette, she was beginning to realize the extent of their isolation. The lively chatter and easy laughter filling the room sparked a yearning for a connection she'd never truly known.
Just as Gabrielle was about to take a seat, the front door swung open with a bang. Teresa barreled into the house. In her haste, she collided with Gabrielle's satchel, sending it tumbling off the bench and scattering its contents across the floor.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Teresa exclaimed, bending down to gather the spilled papers.
"No worries at all," Gabrielle assured her, kneeling to help. But as she reached for a document, Violette, who had followed Teresa in, gasped.
"Train tickets?" Violette's voice rose, the question laced with a tremor of alarm. "Three days?" She demanded, her eyes darting between the tickets and Gabrielle's face. "When were you going to tell me?"
Frustration flickered across Gabrielle's features. "Vee, you knew this was just a short visit," she reminded her sister in a hushed tone. "Don't make a scene."
Violette's jaw clenched. "I don't want to leave yet."
"I understand," Gabrielle said placatingly, ushering Violette towards the porch for some privacy. "But we can't stay any longer. Remember, I told you before we left that we had to be back within the month." She lowered her voice further. "The stockholder's meeting is coming up, and the mess your father left behind at the factories... I just haven't been able to sort it all out yet. I can't keep relying on the attorney to handle the finances in my absence."
"That's your business, not mine," Violette retorted, her voice laced with defiance.
Gabrielle's patience snapped. The stress of the past few weeks, the weight of responsibility, and the simmering resentment towards Violette's carefree attitude all boiled over. "You reap the benefits of my family's money just as much as I do," she lashed out, her voice sharp. "Yet you want no responsibility in anything!"
Violette's eyes widened in shock. "I don't want your money!" She cried, her voice choked with anger. "And I don't need you telling me what to do! You aren't my mother!"
"Fine," Gabrielle choked out, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I hope you're happy here with your new family, Violette. It's obvious you'd rather be here with him!"
The anger drained out of Violette as quickly as it had flared up. Her harsh words hung heavy in the air, a bitter taste on her tongue. Regret twisted in her gut, sharp and cold. She lunged after Gabrielle, her voice choked with apology.
"Brie, wait!" She cried, but her sister's retreating figure was already disappearing into the distance.
Taking a shaky breath, Violette wiped her tears and squared her shoulders. She may not have wanted Gabrielle's money, but she did care about her sister. The joy of the McCloud family dinner, the warmth of their camaraderie, all felt distant now, overshadowed by the deepening rift between her and Gabrielle. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. All she'd wanted was a little more time, a chance to explore this new connection with Buck before being yanked back to their isolated life.
Chapter 20
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Rage, a white-hot inferno, coursed through Gabrielle's veins as she stormed away from the McCloud house. Every harsh word exchanged with Violette, every pent-up frustration of the past weeks, erupted in a torrent of blind fury. She ran, not caring where her feet took her, the only thought was a desperate need to escape the suffocating weight of responsibility and her sister's resentment.
Hours bled into night, the once vibrant sky darkening into a vast expanse of inky darkness. The air grew crisp, carrying the first whispers of the approaching chill. Finally, Gabrielle stumbled to a halt, her lungs burning, her body trembling. She looked around, disoriented, and a spike of panic lanced through her. The familiar landmarks of Butte Meadows were nowhere to be seen.
Lost and alone, a bitter wind whipped at her exposed skin. She cursed her temper, the fiery anger now a cold ember of regret in the pit of her stomach. Shaking off the paralysis of fear, she forced herself to move. It was her only defense against the unseen dangers lurking in the darkness.
The full moon cast a pale, ethereal glow on the landscape, revealing a narrow, rocky path that snaked ahead. Relief washed over her as she followed its meandering course, praying it would lead her back to civilization.
"I don't need to hear it from you too." The growl of her empty stomach, a sharp reminder of her foolishness, drew a self-deprecating chuckle from her lips.
Consumed by self-pity and a churning stew of emotions, Gabrielle strayed from the path without realizing it. The cliffs, shrouded in deceptive moonlight, appeared suddenly before her. One misstep, a misplaced foot, and the ground gave way beneath her.
A choked scream tore from her throat as she plummeted downwards. The world became a dizzying blur of rocks and sky. A searing pain erupted in her leg as she landed, the force of the impact knocking the wind from her lungs. Gasping for air, she clawed her way forward, the rough rock tearing at her raw palms.
Pain and fear intertwined in a desperate dance, fueled by the surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. But the ledge, once secure, began to crumble beneath her trembling fingers. A wave of nausea washed over her as the ground beneath her gave way.
Her life, in all its precious chaos, flashed before her eyes – moments of joy and sorrow, triumphs and failures. An unexpected warmth bloomed in her chest – a fleeting thought of Violette. For a brief moment, she was happy her sister had found her brother because now she would have someone to take care of her. To watch out for her. To love her.
As the rushing water closed over her head, Gabrielle felt a strange sense of calm descend upon her. The fight was over. This wasn't how she imagined death. There was no fear, only a quiet acceptance. The darkness that followed was not terrifying, but a gentle embrace, a release from the burdens she had carried for so long.
Chapter 21
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Violette's scream echoed through the hotel lobby, shattering the peaceful Sunday evening. "She's not here!" She cried, her voice laced with raw panic.
Louise, hurried over and placed a comforting hand on Violette's trembling shoulder. "There, there, sweetheart," she soothed. "Gabrielle must have just needed some time to cool down after your argument."
Buck, his brow furrowed with concern, stepped forward. "Maybe she just needs some space to clear her head," he offered, his voice gentle.
Violette shook her head, her eyes wide and frantic. "No, this isn't like her at all! Something's happened, I just know it!" Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over and tracing a glistening path down her cheeks.
"Vee," Buck said, his voice firm yet calming as he knelt before her. He grasped her hands, his touch warm and reassuring. "We can't do anything tonight. But I promise you, first thing in the morning, I'll be out searching for her. If she's not back by then."
Kid, ever the optimist, offered a small smile. "Buck's right, Violette. I'm sure Gabrielle is just fine. Maybe she went for a walk to get some fresh air."
Violette's gaze darted from Buck to Kid, searching for any flicker of doubt in their eyes. But their expressions held only unwavering determination. Taking a shaky breath, she met Buck's gaze.
"What if she's not?" She whispered, her voice barely audible.
Buck squeezed her hands gently. "She will be," he said with quiet conviction. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, offering a silent comfort. In that moment, the warmth of his embrace was the only solace she could find.
Chapter 22
SE border of Wyoming - 1874
The gentle melody of Abigail's hymn drifted through the air, carried on the warm spring breeze. Her voice, blending with the chirping birds and gurgling river, painted a picture of idyllic serenity. Seated beside her sister Sarah in their horse-drawn cart, Abigail swayed rhythmically, her wide-brimmed hat casting a cool shadow on her face.
"More, Abigail!" Sarah tugged playfully at her sister's braid, urging her to continue the sweet melody.
Abigail chuckled and resumed her verse, the hymn's words echoing through the tranquil landscape. "Sacred songs, beneath, above, Have one Chorus, God is love. All the hopes that sweetly start, from the fountain of the heart—"
Suddenly, the hymn died on Abigail's lips. Her eyes, scanning the picturesque scene, caught a glimpse of something disturbing by the riverbank. A splash of pale against the vibrant green – a figure, unmoving, half-submerged in the water.
"Father!" Abigail cried, her voice laced with alarm.
Luke Peterson, their father, reacted instantly. "Stay in the wagon with your sister," he commanded his voice firm.
He leaped from the wagon seat and raced towards the riverbank. Wading into the water, Luke reached the figure and gently assessed the situation. It was a woman, unconscious and tangled in the branches of a fallen tree. He carefully disentangled her, his heart sinking as he felt for a pulse. The faint flutter beneath her skin offered a sliver of hope, although her condition remained precarious.
Luke hoisted the woman onto his shoulder and carried her back to the waiting wagon. Sarah, her eyes wide with fear, watched as her father deposited the stranger on the floorboards.
"Is she dead, Father?" Sarah blurted out, unable to contain her worry.
Luke knelt beside the woman, his calloused fingers brushing against a faint flutter of breath. "No, Sarah, she's alive," he murmured, relief flooding his features. "At least for now."
The woman looked a mess, her clothes ripped and muddied. It was clear she'd gone through a harrowing ordeal. As Luke carefully examined her leg, a grimace contorted his face. It was broken, twisted at an unnatural angle.
"What happened to her?" Sarah asked, her voice hushed in the face of the stranger's suffering.
Luke sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I have no idea," he admitted. "But she's hurt badly. We'll get her back home and see what we can do to help."
Abigail watched intently as her father fashioned a makeshift splint from flour sacks and other supplies from the wagon.
"What are you doing?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"She's broken her leg, Abigail," Luke explained patiently. "We need to keep it still, so it doesn't get worse."
"What do you think she was doing out here all alone, Father?" Sarah pondered, her gaze filled with concern for the unconscious woman.
Luke smiled gently, ruffling his daughter's hair. "We can ask her when she wakes up," he said, hope glimmering in his eyes.
Chapter 23
SW border of Nebraska - 1874
The first rays of dawn painted the sky in soft hues of rose and gold as Buck emerged from his small cabin. He hadn't slept a wink, his mind consumed by the promise he'd made to Violette. Wasting no time, he saddled his horse and set off westward, following the faint trail of Gabrielle's footprints etched in the soft earth.
The tracks, he noted, started strong, purposeful strides indicating a hurried escape. Then, a gradual shift – the prints became shallower, spaced closer together, hinting at fatigue. Thankfully, the lack of recent rain made tracking easier.
But as Gabrielle's footprints veered away from the familiar path and towards the treacherous river gorge, a knot of unease tightened in Buck's gut. The unease morphed into chilling dread when he reached the precipice, the telltale signs of disturbed earth and scattered rocks marking the spot where the trail abruptly ended.
His heart pounding in his chest, Buck leaned over the edge, bracing himself for a glimpse of Gabrielle's lifeless form below. He scanned the rocky terrain, his breath catching in his throat. She was nowhere to be seen.
A flicker of hope sparked within him. Following a break in the cliffs, he descended the treacherous slope towards the churning river below. For what felt like an eternity, he scoured the area, his eyes scanning the riverbank and the churning water. Then, a glint of silver amidst the rocks caught his eye. It was a small diamond earring. Could it be Gabrielle's? The chances of someone else losing such an earring in this desolate location seemed unlikely.
He pocketed the earring, a cold dread washing over him. From this vantage point, it was conceivable that Gabrielle had fallen directly into the river. The rushing water wasn't particularly deep, but it was enough to overpower her. He scanned the river's surface, desperately searching for any sign of her. Could she have been trapped underwater? Pinned beneath a rock or tree branches?
Taking a deep breath, Buck muttered a silent prayer, a plea for her safety amidst the growing despair in his heart. He stripped down to his pants and waded into the chilling water, the current tugging at his legs as he searched every crevice and submerged rock formation.
By the time the last rays of sunlight began to fade, Buck was forced to accept defeat. He dreaded the task that lay ahead – informing Violette that her sister was most likely gone. Just as despair threatened to consume him, a flutter of yellow caught his eye, carried by the evening breeze. Hope surged through him as he swam towards the object, his heart pounding in his chest. It was a shred of fabric, snagged on a low-hanging branch downstream.
It was a scrap, no bigger than his palm, but the color sent a jolt through him. Pale yellow, dotted with a faint pattern of tiny roses. The same color and design as the dress Gabrielle had worn yesterday. He rubbed the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, he had to find her. He had to know she was safe.
Buck hauled himself out of the water, his muscles screaming in protest. The last vestiges of daylight were rapidly surrendering to the encroaching darkness. Frustration gnawed at him. He wasn't properly equipped to continue the search after nightfall. He needed a lantern, more supplies, and perhaps even another pair of eyes. But the thought of leaving, of letting the night swallow Gabrielle whole, was unbearable.
With a grimace, Buck acknowledged defeat for the moment. He had to return to town, regroup, and prepare for a renewed search at first light. Steeling his resolve, he slung his aching body onto his horse and turned away from the river, a scrap of yellow fabric clutched tightly in his fist.
Chapter 24
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Over an hour had bled away since Buck's return to Butte Meadows. He'd laid out his meager findings – the earring, the sliver of fabric – evidence that gnawed at hope even as it offered a sliver of grim possibility. Despite his own crushing certainty, Buck had left a flicker of that hope alive for Violette, promising to return with answers.
Before packing a satchel with the bare essentials – food for the journey, a change of clothes – Buck took a moment for the grieving girl. Violette, her eyes raw and red-rimmed from tears, clung to the earring he'd found, a fragile tether to a sister she might have lost.
"You'll find her, won't you?" She rasped, her voice hoarse with emotion.
Buck met her gaze. "Of course I will," he said, his voice firm yet laced with a tremor of doubt.
"Promise me!" Violette pleaded, her voice rising a notch.
Buck leaned down, his lips brushing her forehead in a gesture of comfort. "I'll do my very best," he murmured, the weight of the unspoken truth settling heavily in his gut.
Louise offered a semblance of strength, pulling Buck into a quick hug. "We'll take care of her," she said, her voice strained but resolute.
Buck's reply was a quiet whisper, just for her ears. "I'm afraid it ain't going to be good news if I do find her, Lou."
Louise understood. "At least she can have a proper burial," she offered, her own voice cracking slightly.
As Buck saddled his horse as Kid approached. "I'll keep the jail full for you." Kid winked and buffed the sheriff's badge on his chest.
Louise rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Oh, brother," she muttered, shaking her head at Kid's theatrics. "Hurry back so the power doesn't go to his head!"
"Keep her in your prayers," Buck said, his voice gruff with emotion. He mounted his horse, a lone rider against the vast canvas of the setting sun.
"We'll keep you in our prayers too," Louise called out, her voice strong despite the lump in her throat. "Ride safe, Buck."
As Buck disappeared over the horizon, Louise turned back to the house, her heart heavy with a grief that mirrored Violette's. This young woman, Gabrielle, with whom she'd only just begun to form a bond, might be lost to them forever. A pang of sadness settled in Louise's chest – she didn't have many close friends, and Gabrielle's presence, however brief, had brought a welcome spark of warmth into their lives.
"You think she's still alive?" Kid's voice, softer than usual, broke the silence.
Louise shrugged, her voice tight. "I don't know," she admitted. "Buck don't seem to think so."
"Well, let's give her hope until we know for sure," he whispered, his gaze drifting towards Teresa and Jeremiah, who sat with Violette, offering silent comfort.
"I love you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
"Yeah?" Kid replied, a smile gracing his lips. He leaned down and kissed her softly. Looking into her eyes, his voice dropped to a sincere murmur, "I love you too."
Chapter 25
Zion Encampment, Wyoming - 1874
The harsh sunlight filtering through the window pierced Gabrielle's eyelids, dragging her back from the hazy world of unconsciousness. For days, she'd drifted in and out of a feverish oblivion, dimly aware of her surroundings but powerless to interact. Now, a sliver of awareness sparked, urging her to open her eyes.
The effort felt monumental, her eyelids heavy like lead weights. But with a resolute groan, she managed to pry them open, the blurry world slowly coming into focus. She was in a room, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting.
"Hello?" Her voice, a hoarse rasp, emerged from a parched throat. It was a foreign sound, barely recognizable as her own.
A flurry of movement filled her blurry vision. A young girl, no older than twelve, with bright eyes and a braid the color of wheat in the summer sun, materialized beside her bed.
"Mama!" The girl exclaimed, her voice tinged with a joyous wonder. She reached out and grasped Gabrielle's hand, her grip surprisingly strong.
"Water?" Gabrielle croaked.
"Here." The girl propped Gabrielle's head up and tilted a cup to her lips.
"She's awake?" A woman's voice, warm and gentle, filled the room. A moment later, another face swam into view – older, with kind eyes and a reassuring smile.
"Just now, Mother," Abigail chirped, her grip tightening on Gabrielle's hand.
"Good," the woman murmured. She leaned closer, her touch cool and calming as she checked Gabrielle's forehead. With a gentle hand, she replaced the damp cloth with a fresh one. "You are going to be just fine," she said, her voice firm yet laced with a tenderness that soothed Gabrielle's anxieties.
"Thank you," Gabrielle whispered, a wave of gratitude washing over her.
"What is your name, dear?" The woman inquired, her voice soft.
"Gabrielle," she rasped, her voice stronger with each word.
"My name is Jane, this is my daughter Abigail."
A surge of panic constricted Gabrielle's chest. "Where is my sister?" She demanded, her voice rising a notch. She scanned the room frantically, searching for any sign of Violette.
"We found you at the river, but you were alone," Abigail said, her voice small but her grip unwavering.
"Butte Meadows," Gabrielle whispered, the name a desperate plea. They were far from where she'd last seen Violette, the terrifying events rushing back in a dizzying wave. The fall, the icy water, the relentless current...
"Well, we are quite a few day's ride from there," Jane explained gently, pulling the blanket up to cover Gabrielle's shivering form. "You get some rest. We'll see if you can keep some broth down tonight."
"Thank you," Gabrielle whispered again as exhaustion claimed her once more, she squeezed the hand that held hers, a silent expression of gratitude for the kindness of strangers who had become her unexpected saviors.
Outside the room, Abigail's joyous smile mirrored the one on her mother's face. "Heavenly Father answered our prayers, Mother!" She exclaimed, her voice brimming with innocent faith.
"Yes, He did, my dear." Jane agreed, her heart overflowing with relief. She shut the door quietly, leaving Gabrielle to rest.
Chapter 26
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Teresa's heart ached for Violette. The grief on her friend's face mirrored a pain Teresa knew all too well – the loss of a sister. Though Teresa was much younger when Louise left the orphanage, the memory still held a sharp sting. Yet, the moment Louise had reappeared years ago, rescuing them both from the clutches of Boggs, all resentment had evaporated.
Louise, never admitted it, but Teresa and Jeremiah knew the truth – Boggs was their father. Teresa could never express enough gratitude for her sister's bravery that day. Even though they had to return to the orphanage for a short while, Louise had kept her promise. Right before the war erupted, she'd returned with Kid, finally claiming them as her family.
While Teresa's anger towards Louise had vanished instantly, Jeremiah harbored resentment for many years. To everyone's surprise, Kid had enlisted with the Union army, a shocking choice for a southern boy. But the years he'd spent away from home, especially the year as an express rider, had opened his eyes to the world beyond their limited experience.
Buck had enlisted first, becoming a Union scout. It wasn't until six months later that Kid, driven by a newfound sense of purpose, had joined the Union cause as well. Both men were fortunate to return from the war largely unscathed physically, but the mental and emotional scars remained, a constant reminder of the brutality they'd witnessed.
It was shortly after Kid's return that a true connection formed between Jeremiah and Louise. Kid became a source of admiration for Jeremiah and the bond between brother and sister grew stronger.
Seeing Violette sobbing into her pillow tore at Teresa's heart. Louise had insisted that Violette stay with them instead of facing the empty hotel room alone. Teresa hadn't minded sharing her room – the idea of having another sister, even for a short while, was a comforting thought. She crept across the wooden floor, expertly navigating the creaking boards. Silently reaching the bed, she sat beside Violette and began stroking her friend's long brown hair.
"Buck will find her, Vee," Teresa murmured, her voice a soothing balm.
Violette lifted her head, her eyes filled with fear. "I know he will," she choked out, "but what if…" her voice trailed off, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air.
Teresa, understanding the unspoken terror, crawled closer and wrapped Violette in a tight embrace. "Don't even think that way," she whispered firmly. "You need to have faith. God will watch over her."
Violette hesitated. "I wasn't raised with religion," she admitted, clinging to Teresa for comfort. "We never went to church. My father didn't believe in it."
Sadness pulled at Teresa's heart. "I'm sorry," she murmured, gently rocking Violette back and forth. "But if you'd like, I can teach you how to pray."
Violette's brow furrowed. "Is that like wishing on a star?" She asked innocently.
Teresa smiled softly. "No," she explained, taking Violette's hands in hers. "It's more like talking to… someone bigger than ourselves. Someone who cares for us and can offer comfort and strength."
In a hushed and tender voice, Teresa began to explain. She shared how, even as a lonely child in the orphanage, she found comfort in a quiet belief that her sister would one day come back. It was a belief that had sustained her, and now, she hoped it might offer Violette solace as well.
Later that night, bathed in the soft glow of the oil lamp, the two girls sat on the bed, hands clasped together. Teresa, her voice gentle and sincere, guided Violette through her first prayer, a plea for hope and strength amidst the uncertainty.
Chapter 27
Cheyenne, Wyoming - 1874
Desperation gnawed at Buck's gut as his meager supplies dwindled. Days blurred into one another. He'd followed the river for miles, the water a grim reminder of where he'd last seen Gabrielle's tracks. But instead of her lifeless form, he'd stumbled upon a different kind of clue – wheel marks etched into the soft earth near the riverbank.
Had someone found Gabrielle? Was she dead or alive? The lack of a nearby grave offered no answers. Perhaps they'd taken her body to a town, hoping to find her family. Or perhaps, just perhaps, she was still alive.
Buck followed the tracks south of Cheyenne, a flicker of hope guiding his steps. He needed food, rest, and some shred of information. Several small tribes, Kiowa and Cheyenne, called this land home. A silent prayer escaped his lips – that whoever had Gabrielle hadn't crossed paths with any of them.
While the tribes had largely kept to themselves, tensions simmered with white settlers. It wasn't just the fear of the Indians, but any man on the prairie with a nomadic existence – trappers, drifters, even outlaws who might be drawn to the fringes of civilization. Buck knew all too well the fate that could befall a beautiful woman like Gabrielle in the hands of some men, regardless of their skin color.
Stepping into the dusty Cheyenne jail, Buck straightened his badge and greeted the man behind the desk. "Marshal," he announced his voice firm. "I'm Buck Cross, Sheriff of Butte Meadows."
The man, weathered and grizzled, looked up from his paperwork, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He had heard there was a half-breed Sheriff just across the Nebraska Territory. While not fond of Indians himself, the marshal held a reputation for fairness. He'd heard good things about the man and aimed to treat him with respect.
"Quite a ways from your territory, wouldn't you say?" He drawled, taking in Buck's weary appearance.
Buck nodded, his gaze scanning the man's face, searching for any flicker of recognition. "Indeed, sir. I'm looking for my sister," he explained, reaching into his vest pocket. He produced the worn tin Violette had entrusted to him, carefully opening it to reveal the two portraits. "The one on the right. I found wagon tracks leading south from the river."
The Marshal squinted at the portrait, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. He shook his head slowly. "Nope, can't say I've seen her around these parts."
"You sure?" Buck asked insistently.
"I ain't blind son. Even an old coot like me wouldn't forget a pretty face like that." A hint of a smile played on his lips as he scratched his chin through his beard. "You said sister, huh?"
"Step-sister," Buck clarified, understanding the flicker of confusion that crossed the marshal's face.
He didn't want to delve into the intricacies of their relationship, the truth that they weren't blood-related but as he uttered the words "step-sister," a fierce protectiveness flared within him.
"Well, any man with a pulse would remember a face like that," the marshal chuckled, handing the photograph back. "You're welcome to stay in our town for a spell, Sheriff. Best bet's to start at the saloon – those fellas tend to have a keen eye for a pretty face passing through."
"Appreciate the tip," he said, tucking the photograph away carefully.
"If you don't have any luck, down that way across the river we got Kiowa, and to the north the Cheyenne I would hate to think either of them got a hold of her."
"Truth be told, Marshal, there wasn't much to suggest Indians took her,"
"There's a small town south of here called Sunriver," the Marshal continued, gesturing towards a map hanging on the wall. "Good folks there, Sheriff's a decent man. And just outside Sunriver, you'll find the Zion encampment."
"Zion?" Buck raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity sparking in his eyes.
The Marshal's expression darkened. "Mormons," he muttered, his voice laced with disdain. "Nothing but trouble, those folks. About as bad as some of the Indians, if you ask me. No offense intended, of course."
"None taken," Buck replied, a tight smile playing on his lips. "Thank you, Marshal."
The Marshal nodded curtly. "Good luck on your search, Sheriff." He watched Buck head out the door, a determined glint in his eye.
Chapter 28
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Nestled on the porch swing, Violette traced her finger across the delicate pages of Teresa's Bible. Though some passages remained shrouded in mystery, a flicker of understanding sparked with each turn of the page.
Praying, especially aloud, had felt awkward at first. Self-consciousness prickled at her skin, a foreign sensation amidst the quiet faith that permeated the household. But Teresa's gentle words offered solace. "God hears all prayers, Violette," she had assured her. "Even the whispers of the heart." Violette found comfort in that notion, a sense of intimacy blooming within the unfamiliar ritual.
"Have you been reading all day?" Jeremiah's voice startled her. He tossed the reins onto the porch and kicked off his dusty boots.
Violette glanced at the window, surprised to see the day waning. "I guess I lost track of time." She gasped.
"Looks like you could use a break," Jeremiah suggested.
"Yeah?" She couldn't help but smile as she slipped a bookmark in place and put the book down.
"We have a couple hours of sunlight left," he continued, extending his hand. "Come with me."
A flicker of apprehension danced in Violette's eyes. "Where are we going?"
Jeremiah winked. "It's a surprise!" He reached for the Bible on her lap, gently placing it on the other chair. "Come on."
Intrigued, Violette rose and followed him towards the stables. "Alright," she conceded with a smile.
"Ever ridden a horse?" Jeremiah asked with a playful grin.
"Of course I have!" Violette scoffed playfully. "You don't think Baltimore has horses?"
Jeremiah chuckled. "Honestly, I wouldn't know. Never been there myself."
"I even took riding lessons," she boasted with a hint of pride.
"Fancy sidesaddle stuff, I bet?" He teased.
A glint of competitiveness sparked in Violette's eyes. "Sounds like we have a race on our hands then," she declared, reaching out to stroke the horse's soft neck.
Jeremiah's laughter echoed across the yard. "You think you can beat me, city girl?"
A confident smile played on Violette's lips. "Most definitely," she replied. "Let's go."
Jeremiah wasted no time saddling the horses, offering Violette her choice of mount. The prospect of a race, a chance to showcase her skills, filled her with a welcome thrill.
Chapter 29
Zion Encampment, Wyoming - 1874
A wave of disorientation washed over Gabrielle as Jane dabbed her brow with a cool cloth. "You are doing much better today," Jane murmured, her voice a soothing balm.
Gabrielle managed a weak smile, the cool compress a welcome relief against the heat radiating from her skin. "Things are… clearer," she rasped, blinking away the remnants of lingering fog. "How long have I been…?"
"Three weeks," Jane replied gently.
Gabrielle's eyes snapped open, a jolt of disbelief coursing through her. "Three weeks?" Her voice rose in a hoarse squeak.
Jane placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Shh, hush now. You only regained consciousness a few days ago. Your fever… we need to keep it down."
Panic clawed at Gabrielle's throat. "My sister! I have to get word to Violette. She must be frantic!"
"Don't you worry, dear," Jane soothed. "We'll send word to her as soon as you're strong enough."
A fresh wave of despair washed over Gabrielle. She tried to shift her leg, but a jolt of pain shot through her. "I can't move my leg!" She whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes.
"It's broken," Jane explained. "But don't fret. My husband and some of the men here set it. It wasn't easy, but you were unconscious, thankfully. They did a good job, you'll be walking again soon."
Gratitude filled Gabrielle's heart despite the throbbing pain. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Looking at Jane, she couldn't help but notice how youthful she appeared for a woman with so many children. She'd only met Abigail and Sarah, but the sounds of other children playing drifted in from somewhere beyond the closed door.
"May I come in?" A man's voice called out, followed by a gentle knock.
"Come in, dear," Jane replied.
The door creaked open, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man with a warm smile etched on his face. "This is my husband, Luke," Jane introduced. "He's been trying to find your family."
"Hello, sir," Gabrielle managed, her voice barely a croak.
"Just Luke, please," the man corrected kindly. "Abigail told us your name is Gabrielle?
"Yes, Gabrielle," she nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Gabrielle Laurent. I'm from Baltimore."
"Baltimore!" Jane exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise. "Goodness gracious, child! What on earth brings you all the way out to Wyoming?"
"What? Wyoming?!" Gabrielle whispered, a knot of dread tightening in her stomach.
"You mentioned Butte Meadows, that's not that far." Jane calmed her. "It's just across the border."
"We found you just a few miles from there." Luke nodded.
"My sister," She coughed and reached out for the glass of water, bringing it slowly to her lips. "I brought my sister out to meet her brother. He's the Sheriff in Butte Meadows."
"Do you remember what happened?" Luke asked concerned.
"I don't remember much." Gabrielle looked up at him and tried to remember. "I remember falling, I was in pain. A lot of pain, and then waking up here."
"There are cliffs about three miles west of Butte Meadows." Luke looked at his wife and then back at Gabrielle. "We found you about five miles away."
"You think she fell down the cliffs into the river?" Jane gasped.
"It's one explanation."
"You are truly a miracle Gabrielle." Jane smiled and held her hand. "Heavenly Father must have great things in store for you."
"Let her sleep dear." Luke took his wife's hand in his. "I will get word to the Sheriff that you are safe."
"Thank you very much." She smiled weakly. "For everything."
"Don't thank us." Luke smiled and turned before he shut the door. "Thank the Lord. He was the one that brought us to you."
Gabrielle nodded and smiled. She could hear the bustle of life outside her window but with the curtains closed she couldn't see anything. She didn't know anything about the people she was with, but she knew she was safe. They were God-fearing people, that she knew. She listened intently as a soft voice sang a slow hymn outside her window.
She wasn't raised with religion. She wasn't taught much other than scholastics and manners. Before her mother died she had sent Gabrielle to a Catholic boarding school in New York. That was where she learned of God. She remembered the story of the baby Jesus, Noah and his ark and the garden of Eden.
Once her mother died her stepfather insisted she return home and take care of Violette. There she had private tutors, no friends other than her sister, and rarely left the house. She heard no more stories of the Bible and didn't give it much thought after that.
Chapter 30
Zion Encampment, Wyoming - 1874
Buck crouched low at the tree line, his gaze fixed on the settlement nestled in the valley below. The Mormon encampment. It wasn't his first choice, not by a long shot.
Sunriver hadn't yielded any answers. The sheriff, while tight-lipped about the Mormons, hadn't mentioned anything suspicious. He'd even begrudgingly acknowledged their peaceful nature – "so far," he'd muttered, a hint of unease coloring his words.
For Buck, Mormons were an enigma. He'd grown up among the Kiowa, where a chief having multiple wives wasn't unusual. But the whispers he'd heard in Sunriver painted a different picture – a picture of fear and disgust. Townsfolk spoke of "multiple wives" with a venom that went beyond disapproval. Several, with wide eyes and trembling voices, had spun tales of kidnapping and forced servitude.
He scoffed inwardly at the kidnapping claims. They reeked of panicked rumors more than reality. But other whispers, about Mormon violence, resonated with the newspaper articles he'd skimmed years ago – articles about the Mormon Militia. Most Mormons had migrated to Utah by now, these scattered settlements the remnants of a bygone era. But if Gabrielle was here, he had no choice.
With a resigned sigh, Buck secured his hair with a leather thong, adjusted his hat, and swung himself onto his horse. The Mormon encampment awaited, a necessary stop in his desperate search. He hoped the rumors were just that – rumors. But he was prepared for whatever awaited him.
Chapter 31
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
A playful grin stretched across Jeremiah's face as he watched Violette take off like a shot. He'd given her a head start, a courtesy that quickly evaporated as she tore ahead, a blur of brown hair and determination. This city girl, barely over five feet tall, rode with a grace and ease that contradicted her slight frame. He dug his heels in, urging his own horse forward, but Violette was a streak of fire, leaving him in her dust.
As they rounded the designated oak tree, the finish line, Jeremiah knew defeat was imminent. He pushed his horse a little harder, but it wasn't enough. Violette reigned in a few feet past the marker, a triumphant grin splitting her face. In that moment, Jeremiah realized losing this race was the sweetest victory. He hadn't seen Violette smile so genuinely, so carefree, since Gabrielle's disappearance.
"Looks like we know who the real rider is, don't we?" She crowed, dismounting with a flourish.
Jeremiah chuckled, a hint of admiration in his voice. "You're not bad, city girl. I'll give you that."
"Don't worry," she teased, a playful glint in her eyes. "I won't tell everyone you got beat by a girl."
Violette's gaze drifted across the vast expanse of the meadow, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Fireflies, like tiny blinking stars, began to emerge against the fading light.
"It's beautiful here," she sighed.
"What's Baltimore like?" Jeremiah asked.
"There's a shop for everything you could imagine," Violette replied, a touch of wistfulness in her voice. "I always enjoyed going into the city with Gabrielle, but it hasn't been the same lately."
"Why's that?"
Violette hesitated, chewing on her lip. Gabrielle had warned her not to discuss their family troubles, especially their precarious financial situation. But Jeremiah felt different, safe.
"My father passed away four years ago," she finally confided.
"I'm sorry," Jeremiah said softly, his eyes filled with empathy. He reached out and took her hands, his touch gentle.
"I was twelve, Gabrielle was fifteen," she continued her voice barely a whisper.
"Wow, you really are close in age," Jeremiah remarked, surprised. "I thought she was much older."
Violette let out a small laugh. "She would hate you for saying that!"
"She doesn't look old," he countered with a grin. "But she sure acts like a mother hen sometimes. Worse than my own sister, that's for sure."
Violette couldn't help but smile. "I guess she's had to grow up fast," she said thoughtfully. "She wasn't always so fussy, you know. It's only been like this since last year."
"What happened last year?" Jeremiah prompted gently.
Violette took a deep breath. "When she turned eighteen, she inherited the family business. It was all tied up in a trust until then, with lawyers handling everything." A wry smile touched her lips. "My father wasn't the best at managing finances. The books were a mess when she took over. She's been trying to sort it all out, find an advisor or someone to handle the business side of things."
Jeremiah's eyebrows shot up. "Wow, that sounds complicated. You must be really rich then, huh?"
Violette shook her head. "No, not me. Just Gabrielle. It's the Laurent family fortune, from her biological father. Our mother married my father after he died."
"And your father is Buck's father?" Jeremiah clarified, piecing together the puzzle of their complicated family ties.
Violette nodded. "Yes."
"Sounds like a tangled web," Jeremiah whistled.
Violette offered a small smile. "It is, a little."
A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the chirping of crickets and the gentle rustling of leaves. Jeremiah continued to hold her hand, his fingers warm and comforting against her skin. The world seemed to shrink, their worries momentarily forgotten under the vast, star-studded sky.
"Are you going to go back to Baltimore with Gabrielle, or will you stay here?" Jeremiah finally asked.
Violette pondered the question. "I'd like to get to know Buck better," she admitted. "We haven't had much chance to connect."
"You should stay," Jeremiah blurted out before he could stop himself. A blush crept up his neck as he realized what he said. A blush crept up his neck as he realized what he'd admitted. His words hung in the air.
Violette's smile widened, a flicker of surprise dancing in her eyes. "Stay?" She echoed, her voice barely a whisper.
Jeremiah cleared his throat, momentarily flustered. "Well, yeah," he stammered. "I mean, it's kind of nice having you around. Besides," he added, a playful glint returning to his eyes, "who else will beat me in a horse race?"
Part Two – What a view
Chapter 32
Zion Encampment, Wyoming - 1874
Buck guided his horse through the Mormon camp, feeling the air thick with unease. Every sound and sideways look made him tense. He debated showing his badge, knowing Mormons weren't fond of lawmen, but they weren't too fond of Indians either. In the end, he left the badge on his vest where it could be seen.
The place was barely a settlement - just a few buildings clustered together. Some warehouses and simple homes were scattered around, but none of the usual sights of a frontier town. No bars or busy eateries in sight. Buck felt lost - where would he even start looking? Just then, a bunch of men appeared from a nearby alley, their faces impossible to read.
Buck raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "No harm intended, gentlemen," he announced, his voice steady despite the tremor in his gut. "I'm just looking for my sister. Heard she might be here."
One of the men stepped forward, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. "Name's Jacob," he said, his gaze flickering to the badge. "Sheriff, are we?"
"Buck Cross." Buck dismounted and extended a hand. "I'm not here on official business."
A flicker of understanding crossed Jacob's face. "Well, Mr. Cross," he said, his tone softening, "you're welcome here. Brother Thomas, would you mind seeing to Mr. Cross's horse? Make sure it gets some food and water."
"Yes, Bishop," a younger man replied, quickly taking the reins and leading the animal away.
An older man stepped forward, scrutinizing Buck with a keen eye. "Sister, you say? Follow me, son."
"Step-sister, actually," Buck corrected, brushing off his dusty hat. "Her name's Gabrielle Laurent."
"Son, this is a small community." He turned to Buck and smiled. "The Petersons are taking care of her," the Bishop confirmed, clapping Buck on the back with surprising strength.
"Thank God," Buck breathed, a weight lifting from his chest. Never had a prayer felt so heartfelt.
"Thank the Lord indeed," the Bishop echoed, leading Buck through the maze of modest but well-maintained houses.
"I thought she was dead," Buck breathed, the words heavy with relief that threatened to spill over into tears. "Our sister will be overjoyed to have her back."
"She's injured," Bishop Jameson cautioned gently, "but the Lord willing, she'll make a full recovery."
Buck reached the porch of a larger house. "We're very grateful," he rasped.
"Gratitude is best directed towards the Lord, son," the Bishop said with a warm smile, his hand reaching out to rap on the door. "He guided her to us. We were merely instruments of His will."
"Of course," Buck murmured, nodding his head in agreement.
The door creaked open, revealing Jane Peterson, her brow furrowed in surprise at the sight of the two men on her doorstep. "Bishop?" She greeted, her gaze flickering to the stranger beside him.
"Sister Peterson," the Bishop returned with a kind smile. "How fares your family?"
"Very well, Bishop," Jane replied, unable to mask a hint of nervousness as she took in Buck's appearance. An Indian lawman was a sight she'd never encountered before.
"Is Brother Peterson at home?" The Bishop inquired.
"No, sir," Jane answered. "He's down at the mill."
"This is Mr. Cross," the Bishop introduced, gesturing towards Buck. "He is your guest's brother."
"You are welcome to sit on the porch and wait for Luke to return." Jane looked towards the chairs and smiled lightly. "Your sister is sleeping now, but I will get her ready for visitors."
"Thank you kindly, ma'am," Buck replied, rising to follow her gesture towards the porch chairs.
Settling onto the weathered wood, Buck noticed the Bishop studying him with a knowing look. "I can see the confusion in your eyes, regarding her request," the Bishop remarked.
"I assure you, I have no ill intentions," Buck replied earnestly.
The Bishop offered a reassuring nod. "I understand, brother. It's not your badge, nor your Indian blood that troubles her."
Buck's brow furrowed in confusion. "It's not?"
"It's a matter of respect," Bishop Jameson explained, his gaze sweeping across the quiet settlement. "The scriptures, the Bible, tell us to abstain from all evil, even the appearance of it. When a husband is absent, allowing another man into his home, particularly a stranger, could be misconstrued."
Buck nodded slowly, a flicker of understanding replacing his initial confusion. "I apologize for any offense I may have caused," he said sincerely. "It's not a custom I'm familiar with."
"There's no need to apologize, son," the Bishop replied kindly. "It's through open communication that we dispel rumors and learn from each other."
Buck shifted in his seat, a question nagging at him. "I heard you folks have your own... Bible?" he ventured cautiously.
The Bishop chuckled. "Many are indeed confused about that," he admitted. "We revere the Bible, just as any Christian should. We also hold another testament to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, sacred."
"So, two Bibles?" Buck raised an eyebrow, surprised.
The Bishop shook his head. "Think of it this way, Mr. Cross. The Book of Mormon acts as a companion to the Bible. It strengthens the truth of the Bible, and vice versa. They work together, proving each other's validity."
Buck pondered this for a moment. "I see," he said thoughtfully. "So, you're Christians, but with an extra book?"
"In essence, yes," the Bishop confirmed. He studied Buck intently for a moment. "Are you a Christian yourself?"
Buck hesitated. "I was baptized, if that's what you mean."
The Bishop's gaze softened. "Do you believe in one God, or do you follow the ways of your ancestors?"
Buck sighed, running a hand through his hair. "My upbringing was a blend of both," he explained. "I left my tribe when I was young and ended up at a mission school. The nuns there raised me in the Christian faith."
"And now?" The Bishop pressed gently, placing a reassuring hand on Buck's knee.
Buck met the Bishop's gaze, a vulnerability flickering in his eyes. "Honestly, I don't know," he admitted. "There are similarities between the two faiths, but also stark differences. One thing's for certain – I believe in a higher power, a force guiding us all."
Chapter 33
Zion Encampment, Wyoming - 1874
The conversation flowed easily between Buck and Bishop Jameson, their theological discussion stretching into the dusk. Twilight was setting in when Buck caught sight of someone walking towards the house. The visitor seemed to be an older fellow, his gait unhurried. The man offered a warm smile and a handshake to the Bishop.
"Brother Peterson, this is Buck Cross," the Bishop introduced them. "He's the brother of the young lady you've been so kind to."
"Welcome, Brother Cross," Luke greeted, his handshake firm and welcoming. "Please, come inside. I'm sure you're eager to see your sister."
"Thank you, sir," Buck replied, his voice thick with gratitude. "I can't thank you enough for taking care of her. The Bishop mentioned she was injured."
Luke nodded grimly. "Broken leg. One of the worst I've ever seen. We did our best to set it."
"Will she be alright?" Buck's worry etched itself onto his face.
"She'll heal," Luke assured him, "but traveling will be out of the question for a while."
"How long?"
"A month, maybe more."
Buck followed Luke into the house, offering a tentative smile to the man's wife as they passed.
Suddenly, a choked cry pierced the air. "Buck?" A trembling hand reached out from the small bed.
Relief washed over Buck as he rushed towards the voice. "Gabrielle!" He reached out, taking her hand gently in his. "It's good to see you awake. Are you all right?"
Tears welled up in Gabrielle's eyes. "Yes," she rasped, her voice weak. "They've been wonderful to me."
"That's a relief," Buck murmured, squeezing her hand reassuringly.
"Violette?" She whispered, her voice laced with confusion.
"Shh, shh, calm down, Gabrielle," Buck soothed, his voice steady. "Everything will be all right. I promise." He settled onto the edge of the bed, gently wiping away the tears that streamed down her face. "I'll send word to Violette tomorrow, first thing."
Gabrielle clung to his words, a flicker of hope rekindled in her eyes. "I want to go home," she whispered, the word a desperate plea.
"I know, I know," Buck murmured, his hand moving to stroke her hair in a comforting gesture. "But you can't travel with that leg just yet."
"But..." she trailed off.
"She's safe with Kid and Lou," Buck assured her, his voice firm. "They'll take good care of her."
"Thank you," Gabrielle whispered, a tremor in her voice. "I'm sorry to inconvenience you, but I'm thankful you found me."
"No inconvenience for family."
"You and I aren't family." She said softly.
"You are my sister's sister." He tilted her chin up. "You are family. Blood or not."
Gabrielle's lips curved into a faint smile, a flicker of warmth chasing away the fear in her eyes. "Thank you," she repeated, the words filled with genuine gratitude.
"Truth be told," Buck confessed, his voice dropping to a low murmur, "until I walked into this room, I wasn't sure I'd find you alive."
Gabrielle's eyes widened with curiosity. "How did you find me?"
Buck chuckled softly. "Let's see," he began, settling in for a longer explanation. "First, I tracked you to the river, but I found your footprints leading away from the bank. Lost the trail there for a while, but then I headed to Cheyenne. The marshal there pointed me in this direction."
"Are you taking me back?"
"The Petersons said a month for recovery," Buck elaborated, his voice gentle.
"A month!" she exclaimed, the desperation in her voice raw and undisguised. " can't stay here that long, there are things I need to do..." Her voice trailed off into an unintelligible mumble, her mind racing with the consequences of her enforced absence.
Buck reacted swiftly, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders, his touch firm but calming. "Gabrielle, shh," he soothed, gently rubbing her arms. "Calm down. Remember that cliff you fell from? You're lucky to be alive. Your leg is broken, it needs time to heal."
"Can't you just throw me in a wagon?" She pleaded, a spark of mania flashing in her eyes.
Buck enveloped her in a hug, his embrace strong and protective. "Gabrielle," he murmured against her hair, his voice laced with concern. "You need rest. Butte Meadows is a few days' ride at best. If we move you too soon, that break in your leg could easily worsen."
Gabrielle leaned into his embrace, the tears she'd been holding back finally spilling over. Shame washed over her. She realized her harsh feelings towards Buck had stemmed from frustration with her sister's choices, not from any ill will towards him.
"I know you want to get back home," Buck said softly, pulling back slightly but holding her hands in his. "But right now, all your energy needs to go towards healing. If it'll make you feel better, I can stay here until it's time to take you home."
Gabrielle shook her head, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "No, you can't," she hiccupped. "You have a job, a life. I can't ask you to put that on hold for me."
Buck chuckled reassuringly. "Don't worry about that," he said, gently wiping away the last vestiges of moisture from her cheeks. "Kid can handle things for a while.
"Thank you," she whispered, sniffling softly.
"Get some rest," Buck instructed. "I'll find a place to stay for the night."
"Thank you," Gabrielle repeated, her voice thick with gratitude.
"Goodnight, Gabrielle," Buck said, squeezing her hand gently before turning and walking out of the room, pulling the door shut softly behind him.
Chapter 34
Zion Encampment, Wyoming - 1874
Buck stepped into the main room where Bishop Jameson, Luke, and Jane Peterson, and their children, who Buck presumed were the eldest, were all gathered. The youngsters, their faces pale and wide-eyed, were clearly experiencing their first encounter with an Indian. Buck fought back a chuckle as he noticed their white-knuckled grip on the arms of their chairs.
"I trust you found your sister in good health," the Bishop said, rising from his seat.
"Yes, sir," Buck replied.
"A remarkable recovery, indeed," the Bishop remarked, his gaze lingering on Buck for a moment before he shuffled towards the door.
"Praise be to the Lord," Jane echoed, offering the Bishop his hat with a warm smile.
"I don't have much to offer in return for your kindness," Buck began, searching for a way to express his gratitude, "but perhaps—"
"Nonsense, Brother Cross," Luke interrupted, placing a reassuring hand on Buck's arm. "This is the Lord's work. No repayment is necessary."
Buck nodded, his heart swelling with appreciation. "Thank you," he said sincerely.
The Bishop offered a curt nod. "Well then, Brother Cross, I do hope we see you at our Sunday service. You'd be most welcome." With that, the older man took his leave, his departure somewhat abrupt.
"Thank you again," Buck reiterated, turning his attention to Luke and Jane. "Your family has been incredibly kind to Gabrielle."
"She's a lovely young lady," Jane said softly, her voice filled with genuine warmth.
"These are our eldest," Luke introduced, gesturing towards the teenagers seated beside his wife. "Samuel, our sixteen-year-old, and Abigail, who is thirteen. The younger ones are tucked in for the night, but we'll introduce you properly later."
"Pleased to meet you both," Buck said with a nod.
"The Bishop tells us you're the sheriff in Butte Meadows," Luke continued, gesturing towards a chair. "Why don't you have a seat?"
"Thank you kindly," Buck accepted, settling into the offered chair. "Been the sheriff for goin' on two years now, I suppose."
"I don't mean to pry mister, but how come your sister isn't an Indian?" Samuel asked.
"Please forgive my son's curiosity." Jane interjected.
Buck chuckled softly. "No offense taken, ma'am," he replied. "She's more like a sister-in-law. My father married her mother after we were both born."
"So your pa was white, then?" Luke inquired.
"Yes, sir, he was."
"And you, were you raised by your mother's people or your father's?" Jane asked, a hint of concern in her voice.
Buck sensed her apprehension and decided to downplay the harsher aspects of his upbringing. "I left my tribe when I was very young," he explained carefully.
A flicker of movement from the doorway caught his eye. A young boy, no older than eight, peeked out from behind the doorframe, his eyes wide with curiosity.
"Ah, this must be one of the younger ones," Luke chuckled, his voice warm. "Come on in, Thomas, don't be shy. This is Brother Cross, Gabrielle's brother."
The boy shuffled forward hesitantly, his gaze glued to Buck. Buck offered a friendly smile.
"Howdy, Thomas," Buck greeted, extending a hand.
The boy hesitated for a moment, then slowly reached out and took Buck's hand in a firm handshake.
"Nice to meet you, sir," he mumbled shyly.
"The pleasure's all mine," Buck replied, giving the boy's hand a gentle squeeze.
"We should probably all be headin' to bed," Luke said, rising from his chair. "It's gonna be a long day tomorrow."
Buck nodded in agreement. "Of course. Thank you again for everything, Mr. and Mrs. Peterson. I truly appreciate your hospitality."
"We're happy to help in any way we can." Jane nodded
"Samuel, Abigail school will come early." Luke looked at the clock on the fireplace hearth and then at his children.
"Yes Father." Both said in unison and scurried off to bed.
"I should be heading out." Buck stood up and shook Luke's hand again. "I'll just make camp outside your town here, by the river if that's ok? Then come see Gabrielle once you get home."
"We don't have extra room in the house, but we have a barn that will offer you better shelter than the open prairie." Luke smiled and opened the door.
"Thank you." Buck smiled.
Luke led Buck outside to the barn, offering him a lantern and some blankets. The lantern cast shadows across the dusty interior of the barn as Buck followed Luke. The pungent aroma of hay filled the air. Inside, a lone plow horse munched contentedly on a bale of hay, its large brown eyes regarding Buck with mild curiosity.
"This looks a sight more comfortable than the bare ground," Buck admitted, eyeing the fresh hay piled high in the loft. A roof overhead wouldn't hurt either, especially with the threat of a summer squall ever-present.
"Indeed," Luke chuckled. "There's a ladder right here if you prefer a softer bed than straw." He gestured towards a sturdy wooden structure leaning against the far wall.
Buck hoisted the lantern higher, its warm glow illuminating the rungs of the ladder. "Much appreciated, Mr. Peterson," he replied, extending the lantern towards Luke. "I'd be happy to lend a hand with whatever chores you need doing. Repairs around the house, anything you might need."
Luke studied him for a moment, then a grin lit up his face. "Well, as a matter of fact, that old fence by the south pasture could use some mending. We can tackle that first thing tomorrow, if you're up for it."
Relief and a surge of satisfaction washed over Buck. He wouldn't be sitting around twiddling his thumbs after all. "Sounds good to me," he said. "Just point me in the direction of some tools, and I'll get to work."
Chapter 35
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Lou burst through the front door, her face alight with excitement. "A telegram for you!" She announced, practically throwing the flimsy paper into Violette's lap.
Her fingers trembled slightly as Violette unfolded the telegram, her heart pounding in her chest. The words swam before her eyes for a moment, then sharpened into focus. "Found Gabrielle. Will return in a few weeks. Buck."
Tears welled up in Violette's eyes, a mixture of relief and joy threatening to spill over. Weeks felt like an eternity, but compared to the agonizing uncertainty of the past few days, it was a beacon of hope. She clutched the telegram to her chest, a silent prayer escaping her lips.
At first, Louise couldn't understand why a delay of few weeks, it was Kid who reminded her that Gabrielle had probably been injured and needed time to recuperate. Whatever the reason, the entire household was relieved.
In the last couple of weeks, Violette and Teresa had become quite close and spent much of their time whispering and giggling when they weren't in school or riding horses through the prairie.
It was these last few nights though that Louise noticed the glances and flirtation between her brother and Violette. While at first, she thought it was just a passing fancy, she realized how quickly this could spark a fire and burn out of control very quickly. It wasn't too long ago she was their age. Being Gabrielle, wasn't there, Louise felt it was her duty to step in and lay down the ground rules.
Her earlier conversation with Jeremiah had been surprisingly smooth. The angry teenager he once was had matured into a thoughtful young man. Louise had impressed upon him the importance of treating Violette with respect, a young woman sheltered from the harsh realities of the world.
More importantly, she'd reminded him that no matter how much Violette wanted to stay, her sister was her guardian and they would be going back to Baltimore once she returned with Buck.
Chapter 36
Zion Encampment, Wyoming - 1874
Gabrielle, though she enjoyed Jane's company throughout the day, yearned for something more. While Jane diligently read scriptures aloud, Gabrielle's mind wandered to the world outside. The lush green trees visible between the fluttering curtains were a constant tease, a reminder of the sunshine and freedom she craved.
Suddenly, the sound of excited chatter broke the quiet. Abigail burst into the room, her hands clasped with glee. "Mama! Father is home early!"
Jane, startled from her reading, set the scriptures down. She peeked out the window. "What? Is anything wrong?" She called out with concern. Early arrivals were uncommon for Luke.
"No need to worry, wife!" Luke's voice boomed from outside, his heavy footsteps stomping up the wooden porch. "With Brother Cross's help, we finished all the work early this week!"
A warm smile spread across Jane's face. "Wonderful!" She exclaimed, turning to greet her husband and offering a welcoming smile to Buck.
"How about a picnic with the children, followed by a swim in the river?" Luke boomed. "Anyone up for a swim?" He playfully chased his children around the small living space, their laughter filling the room.
"What about Gabrielle?" Jane asked, a touch of concern in her voice. "I should stay here and keep her company."
"Nonsense!" Luke boomed, tossing their youngest daughter in the air and catching her with a hearty laugh. "The girl needs some sunshine!"
"But she can't get down to the river, surely!" Jane gasped, her eyes widening with worry.
"No, no," Buck interjected, a reassuring pat on Luke's back. "Just to the oak tree in the front."
Jane's brow furrowed in contemplation. While concerned about another potential injury, she couldn't deny the logic in Luke's words. Fresh air and gentle exercise would likely benefit Gabrielle's healing leg. "Alright," she conceded. "Let me pack some food."
"Go get your sister," Luke instructed, giving Buck a nudge toward the back room.
Still holding his hat, Buck walked towards the back room and gently rapped on the door. "Gabrielle?" He called out.
"Come in," a voice replied faintly.
Buck pushed open the door and found Gabrielle propped up in bed, her gaze fixed on the window. A smile lit up her face as he entered. "Hey there," he greeted. "How are you feeling today?"
"Restless," she admitted, a hint of frustration in her voice. "And board."
"Where are your clothes?" He then turned and approached the closet, searching for suitable clothing.
"My dress was torn too badly to mend," Gabrielle sighed, shaking her head. "What's going on?" Gabrielle's brow furrowed in confusion. "Is something wrong? Are you taking me back to Butte Meadows already?"
Buck flashed her a reassuring grin. "No, and definitely no!" He chuckled. "There's something else I have in mind."
"You might need to get properly dressed if you plan on going out," Jane announced, pushing past Buck, she deposited a plain grey dress on the bed. "Go on and get out of here, Brother Cross. I'll get her presentable."
"What's going on?" Gabrielle looked at Jane, confusion filling her eyes.
"No need for concern, dear," Jane replied gently, handing her a warm washcloth. "The men have finished work early today. It's such a beautiful day."
A surge of excitement coursed through Gabrielle. "I'm going outside?" She exclaimed, eagerly wiping her face and arms with the washcloth. Relief and joy washed over her – the prospect of fresh air and sunshine felt like a dream.
"It's good to see you in such good spirits," Jane noted with a warm smile.
"I've been dying to get outside." Gabrielle confessed, her voice tinged with longing.
"Well, you be sure and take it slow," Jane cautioned, a motherly concern evident in her voice. "Exercise will be good for your leg, but don't overdo it."
"Yes, ma'am," Gabrielle replied.
Jane helped Gabrielle to her feet, her arm a steady support. Despite the daily practice walks, Gabrielle's leg still protested, a dull ache throbbing with each tentative step. Jane helped Gabrielle slip on the simple grey dress. It wasn't much, but it felt soft and comfortable against her skin.
"Now, take it slow, alright?" Jane remarked, her eyes filled with warmth. "Your brother will be your strong arm out there."
With careful steps, Gabrielle followed Jane out of the room. Buck stood waiting, a gentle smile etched on his face. He offered his arm, his touch firm and reassuring. Together, they stepped outside, the warm sunshine enveloping them in its golden glow.
The fresh air filled Gabrielle's lungs with a sweet, invigorating breath. The scent of wildflowers and sun-baked earth filled her senses. As they reached the oak tree, Gabrielle paused, leaning against its rough bark. Looking up at the sprawling branches overhead, she closed her eyes and let out a sigh of contentment.
The sound of laughter grew closer, mingled with the gentle murmur of the river. For the first time since arriving at the Peterson's house, Gabrielle felt a sense of peace, a feeling of belonging she hadn't dared to hope for.
Buck couldn't help but be captivated by the sight of Gabrielle leaning against the oak tree. Gone were the tailored city clothes and finery. Replaced with a plain grey sack of a dress, her hair, simply braided, cascaded down her back. The idyllic moment was shattered, however, by the joyous chaos of children's screams and excited laughter.
"Everyone in the wagon or you are going to have to walk to the river!" Boomed Luke's voice, breaking the tranquil spell.
Jane, with a warm smile on her face, quickly herded their children, helping the younger ones climb into the wagon. Luke offered his wife a hand up, pulling her onto the seat beside him. Buck and Gabrielle waved goodbye as the wagon, filled with chattering children, lumbered down the dirt road, a cloud of dust trailing behind it.
"How many children do they have?" Buck asked, squinting as he tried to count the bouncing figures in the back.
"Seven," Gabrielle replied, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes.
"Seven?!" Buck exclaimed, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Well, I guess we found out what they do for entertainment around here." Buck chuckled under his breath.
Gabrielle's eyes widened in mock outrage. "Buck!" She exclaimed, her lips twitching.
He arched an eyebrow playfully. "You know it's true."
Try as she might to look serious, Gabrielle couldn't quite manage it. The urge to smile kept growing, no matter how hard she fought it.
"Alright, alright," Buck conceded with a laugh, seeing her playful defiance. He tightened his arm around her waist gently. "There's a nice spot under a tree with a perfect view of the river. It's just a short walk."
"Thank you for staying with me," Gabrielle said, her voice softening. "I know you could have gone with them, so I appreciate you helping me get outside."
"Of course," Buck replied simply.
As they walked, they came across a gnarled tree root jutting out of the ground. When Gabrielle stumbled slightly, Buck instinctively lifted her a little over the obstacle with his free arm. A few steps later, a jolt of pain shot through her injured leg, causing her to cry out and grab his arm for support.
"Whoa there," Buck said quickly, steadying her. "Are you alright?"
"Just a little sore," she winced, trying to downplay the pain.
Buck surveyed the uneven ground. "These roots could be a hazard," he muttered. He stepped closer and extended a hand. "Here, put your arms around my neck and hold on tight."
Hesitantly, Gabrielle did as he instructed. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she felt him lift her securely and carry her down the gentle slope towards a small rise overlooking the creek.
When they reached level ground, he gently set her down. For a moment, their eyes met, and a warmth flooded Gabrielle's chest. She quickly broke the eye contact, pulling away from his touch and steadying herself.
Chapter 37
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
From his desk at the Sheriff's office, Kid watched a well-dressed man hesitantly navigate the town's boardwalk. The man seemed as out of place as Kid himself would strolling through New York City. Kid observed the man adjust his spectacles before pushing open the doors of the Sheriff's office.
"Can I help you, sir?" Kid rose, extending a hand.
"Sheriff?" The man questioned.
Kid offered a handshake. "McCloud's the name."
"Henry R. Galveston Esquire, from Baltimore," the man introduced himself, rummaging through his satchel. "Received a most unsettling telegram from a client the other day."
"All this way for a client?" Kid raised an eyebrow.
"Her father was a good friend," the man explained. "I handle legal matters for the family on occasion."
"So, Mr. Galveston, what brings you here from Baltimore?"
The man unfolded the wrinkled telegram with trembling hands. "Mr. Galveston," he read aloud. "I have been detained longer than expected. Please ensure all debts are covered. I will explain upon my return to Baltimore. Signed, Gabrielle Joséphine Laurent."
"What can I do to help you, sir?" Kid shrugged, unsure of the situation.
"Most curious," the man muttered, his brow furrowed. He clutched his satchel tighter, anxiety radiating from him. "Miss Laurent is a very capable young woman, far more responsible than most her age. This is highly unusual behavior."
"I understand your concern," Kid replied cautiously, "but I'm not sure how I can be of assistance." He didn't know this man, and without Gabrielle to vouch for him, revealing any information felt risky.
"She was coming here," the man explained, urgency creeping into his voice. "With her sister, for only a month, back in June. I fear she may have been abducted, or worse."
Kid sighed, the weight of the situation settling on him. "Come with me," he instructed, putting on his hat. He led the man to the schoolhouse, then went inside to fetch Violette.
Moments later, Violette emerged. "Mr. Galveston?" She inquired, a note of surprise in her voice.
The older man's eyes widened. "Child," he exclaimed, rushing forward and grasping her hands tightly. He pulled her close, his voice dropping to a low murmur, "Where is your sister?"
"She's fine," Violette reassured him.
He produced the telegram. "I received this from Wyoming."
Violette scanned it, relief washing over her. "She was hurt, but she's okay. Just recuperating in Wyoming until she heals completely."
"She missed the quarterly shareholders meeting, and the board of directors are threatening to oust her by next quarter if she doesn't attend. They've never been comfortable with a woman on the board, especially one so young, and are grasping at any reason to remove her."
"What happens if they vote her out?" Violette's brow furrowed.
"A Laurent has held a seat on that board, leading the company, for generations!" His eyes widened with urgency. "It would mean she loses her voice in the family business."
"That's her family's company! It's her birthright, they can't take that away!" Violette exclaimed, her voice rising. "She'd be heartbroken."
"The next meeting is in October," Mr. Galveston pressed. "She needs to be back in Baltimore by then."
"She mentioned returning in a few weeks," Violette reassured him, taking a deep breath. "There should be plenty of time."
"There's no room for delay! She must return home at once!" Mr. Galveston's voice boomed with a touch of desperation.
"I'll make sure to let her know," Violette promised, a small smile playing on her lips laced with worry. "Thank you, Mr. Galveston."
"My dear, take care," he replied, wiping his hand on his trousers with a grimace, clearly bothered by the dust clinging to his polished shoes.
Violette re-entered the schoolhouse, her steps heavy. Collapsing onto a chair next to Teresa, a wave of guilt washed over her. Her sister was right. Violette never actively participated in the family business, never truly considered it hers, despite benefiting from it financially.
How selfish she had been. The potential loss of Gabrielle's seat on the board, their family legacy, would weigh heavily on her conscience. And the argument... it was her fault Gabrielle was almost killed.
Chapter 38
Zion Encampment, Wyoming - 1874
With the contented sigh of a full stomach, Buck tossed a drumstick bone onto his empty plate, flopping back on the blanket with a satisfied groan.
"Man, I'd convert to their whole religion if it meant eating fried chicken like that every day," he declared.
Gabrielle glanced at him, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Not every woman here makes it that good, you know. You might be stuck marrying Jane to secure a lifetime supply."
Buck chuckled. " They have multiple wives, Gabrielle, not the other way around."
"Well, that dashes your dreams then," she teased.
"Seems like that's the story of my life," he replied with a laugh, though a hint of seriousness lingered in his voice.
"What do you mean?" Gabrielle's curiosity piqued.
"Why am I not married, you mean?" His dark eyebrow lifted as he turned to face her.
Gabrielle flushed slightly, suddenly aware of how forward her question had been. "Uh, yeah, I guess."
Buck shrugged. "Just unlucky in love, I suppose."
"You're... thirty-three, right?" She counted quickly in her head. "Most folks are married by your age."
"Think of me as twenty-eight," he said, tossing a napkin at her playfully. "Those five war years, didn't exactly have time for courting then, did I?"
"I suppose not," she agreed with a smile.
The conversation took a turn. "What about you?" Buck asked.
"Me?" She replied, feigning innocence.
"Why aren't you hitched yet?"
"I'm just eighteen," she said with a laugh.
Surprise flickered across Buck's face. "Eighteen? I didn't realize you were that young."
"Hey!" She protested with a playful frown.
"Honestly, I thought you were at least a few years older." He said with a grin. "You just have a way about you, you're very mature."
"Well, thank you," she replied, a hint of satisfaction in her voice.
"You're welcome," he said, rolling onto his side and propping his head on his hand. "Gabrielle?"
The conversation deepened. Buck's jaw clenched tight. "Would you tell me about him?" He forced out, the word "father" sticking uncomfortably in his throat.
Gabrielle turned to him, her expression turning serious. "I'd be happy to," she said. "But the truth is, he wasn't really a father to me. Violette might be able to offer some insight, though."
"I tried talking to her," Buck admitted. "But she was so young when he passed away. It doesn't seem like she remembers him much."
"He was a very private man," Gabrielle explained.
"Maybe that's why Violette has such a rosy view of him," Buck mused. "Like any good daughter, I suppose."
Gabrielle nodded in understanding. "Yes, I imagine she does see him through rose-colored glasses."
"Speaking of Violette, you two seem incredibly close," Buck said, handing her a glass of grape juice.
"Thank you," she smiled, taking a sip. "Violette and I are best friends, practically inseparable. Honestly, I wouldn't have taken her on this hair-brained idea adventure if it weren't for her."
"Hair-brained, huh?" Buck chuckled. "I've been called worse."
"Well, that was before I knew you were such a gentleman," she teased with a laugh. "We had no idea what to expect when we came here."
"I hope she's not too disappointed with who I really am, then," Buck said with a hint of worry.
Gabrielle's laugh filled the air. "Are you kidding? She's elated."
"The truth is," Buck confessed, his voice dropping to a serious tone, "I never even considered the possibility of having siblings besides my older brother, Red Bear. When I first learned about Violette, I was furious, angry. But there was also this strange feeling of familiarity, like I somehow knew her."
Gabrielle nodded, a sincere smile gracing her lips. "I can see some similarities."
The weight of the conversation settled between them. Buck finally voiced the question that had been gnawing at him. "What did he look like?"
Gabrielle offered a wistful smile as she met Buck's gaze. "He was a handsome man," she began, "Dark blonde hair, wavy like Violette's, with streaks of grey at the temples. His eyes were a striking blue, but cold as ice. Nothing like yours."
Buck cleared his throat, his pulse quickening as their eyes locked. "Like mine?"
"Your mother must have given you your eyes," she continued, her voice softening. "You have kind eyes, Buck."
A blush crept up her cheeks as she studied his features. Though attracted to him from the start, she hadn't truly examined his face until now. She saw echoes of his father in him, a resemblance to Violette, but the warmth in his eyes spoke of a different influence – his mother.
"You do have his smile, though," she said, her hand reaching out to gently touch his cheek. "I don't recall seeing him smile much, but Violette, she has that same lopsided grin of yours. Gets her out of any trouble with a flash of those pearly whites."
A flicker of concern crossed Buck's face as he noticed her quickly retract her hand and take a sharp breath. "Are you alright?" he asked, his brow furrowing.
"I'm fine," she stammered, her heart fluttering erratically whenever he was near, especially when their skin brushed.
"What kind of father was he?"
Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she forced herself to focus on the question.
"Distant," she admitted, struggling to piece together memories of a man who held little significance in her life. "I don't remember my father, he passed away when I was still a baby. I was two when my mother married Mitchell. Perhaps he made more of an effort when I was younger. There's a faint memory... him pushing me and Mama on a swing in the backyard."
She closed her eyes, the sadness of the past pressing down on her. There weren't many happy memories of Mitchell Turner, and the ones she did have were fragmented and fleeting.
"He wasn't cut out to be a father," Gabrielle admitted, her voice heavy with repressed emotions. "Let alone a single parent. Violette was a handful, even with nannies around."
"Vee told me he pulled you out of school." Buck nodded in understanding. "Sounds like you both grew up surrounded by nannies and tutors," Buck said, piecing together the fragments of her childhood. He noticed a flicker of sadness in her eyes and followed her gaze. Across the meadow, children shrieked with delight as they splashed in the river.
"Exactly," she confirmed. "Weeks would go by without seeing him. Ultimately, he lived in the library, shrouded in cigar smoke and whiskey."
A tense silence settled between them. Buck finally broke it. "It's clear there wasn't much love lost between you."
"I'm sorry, I don't have fond memories of him." Gabrielle said carefully, choosing her words.
"That's okay," Buck reassured her, sitting closer and gently brushing a dark curl behind her ear. "The man I hate most has been a ghost haunting me since childhood."
"I'm sorry I can't tell you more," she confided, closing her eyes momentarily to capture the fleeting warmth. "Nannies raised me, tutors schooled me, and Violette was my only companion. It felt like I was... a valuable possession, kept safe only because my name was tied to the wealth he squandered on gambling and women."
"I'm so sorry I brought up painful memories," Buck apologized, his voice laced with regret.
"It's all right," she said, offering a small smile and placing her hand on top of his. "I wish I could tell you better things about him," she shook her head, a single tear escaping and tracing a path down her cheek.
Buck, sensing a shift in mood, decided to steer the conversation towards happier memories. "Tell me about your mother," he said gently. "What was she like?"
Gabrielle's eyes softened, a wistful smile gracing her lips. "She was beautiful," she began, a flicker of warmth returning to her voice.
"Of course she was. Both you and Violette are beautiful."
"Thank you." She looked across the meadow as she felt her cheeks grow hot.
"Why do compliments embarrass you?" He smiled flirtatiously at her seeing her blush.
"It's not something I'm used to," she admitted, looking down at her hands and then back up to him.
Sensing her discomfort, Buck quickly changed the subject. "Were you close to your mother?"
"No, my mother was very distant and cold." She sighed quietly. "She was entrusted my father's business. She spent much of her time working."
"And you are planning to take over that business now?"
"I don't think I want to." She looked at him seriously and drew in a deep breath. "I've never admitted that to anyone before."
Buck's expression softened. "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with, Gabrielle. It's your life."
"It feels like it's my duty," she countered, her voice barely above a whisper. "To my father, to my family legacy."
Buck cupped her chin gently, his touch sending a spark through her. "Listen," he began, his voice a low rumble, "you spent your childhood raising your sister, and now, barely an adult, you're expected to shoulder this burden? No one would judge you for wanting to choose your own path."
"The trouble is," she said, her voice barely a whisper, vulnerability etched on her face. "I don't know what I want."
"Sounds like you need to figure that out first," Buck replied gently.
Chapter 39
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
"Guess what I overheard?" Teresa asked, struggling with a hefty box of groceries. "Jeremiah asked Louise last night if he could court you!"
Violette's eyebrows shot up, a smile tugging at her lips. "You did?" She managed, trying to appear nonchalant.
"Because you're turning sixteen, she said it was all right." Teresa nodded.
"Birthdays used to be a big deal at my house." Violette said wistfully, shaking her head. "Every year, Gabrielle would go all out. Decorations, a house full of people, even kids I didn't know."
"Sounds like fun," Teresa remarked.
"I hated it," Violette confessed with a laugh. "Now I'd give anything for that fuss."
"She'll be back soon," Teresa assured her gently.
Violette offered a small smile and rested her box on the porch railing. Four weeks had passed with no word from Gabrielle or Buck. Despite reassurances from Kid and Louise, worry gnawed at her. With a sigh, she tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for Teresa to return.
Minutes ticked by. A frown creased Violette's brow as she set her box down. Just as she reached for the doorknob, it swung open.
"Surprise!"
Louise stood there, beaming. A magnificent cake sat proudly in the center of the table, surrounded by smiling faces.
A wave of emotion washed over Violette. Though Gabrielle and Buck's absence left a void, she allowed herself to be swept up in the joy of the moment, determined to enjoy her sixteenth birthday celebration.
The surprise washed over Violette, tears welling up in her eyes. Tears of relief, of joy, of the unexpected warmth that filled the small room. Louise had outdone herself. The cake, a glorious creation frosted a cheerful yellow, boasted sixteen lit candles.
Kid stood beside Louise, a goofy grin plastered on his face.
As Violette took it all in, Louise bustled forward. "Make a wish, birthday girl!" she urged, her voice brimming with excitement. Violette closed her eyes, a silent wish forming for Gabrielle and Buck's safe return whispered amongst the hope for a brighter year ahead. Taking a deep breath, she blew out the candles in a single puff. A cheer erupted, filling the room with warmth.
As the night wore on, they shared cake, Kid and Lou both regaling them with tales – some true, some embellished – of their youth. Despite the lingering worry for her siblings, Violette's heart was torn between conflicting emotions as she watched the celebration taking place before her. On one hand, she felt a glimmer of hope for the family she so desperately longed for. But on the other hand, she couldn't shake off the fear that this comfort was only temporary and would soon disappear like a passing storm.
Chapter 40
Zion Encampment, Wyoming - 1874
Gabrielle perched on the porch steps and watched Buck lead his horse out of the barn. It was unusually quiet for a workday, and she wondered if he planned a trip into town. As Buck approached the porch, reins dangling loosely in his hand, she noticed a shift in his demeanor.
"How's the leg feeling today?" He asked, his voice gentle.
"Much better," she replied, a hopeful smile blooming on her face. "I even walked down to the fence and back a couple of times."
"That's great progress," he said, a hint of surprise in his voice. "Any pain at all?"
"Just some tiredness," she admitted. "I know I need to build my strength back up."
Buck's eyes lit up with an idea. "How would you feel about taking a short ride?"
Gabrielle's eyes widened with excitement. "Really? You think I'm ready?"
"There's only one way to find out," Buck said with a smile. He extended his hand to help her rise from the steps. "Do you have any riding experience?"
"Well," Gabrielle began hesitantly, "it can't be that hard, right? You just sit there, don't you?"
Buck chuckled. "There's a bit more to it than that. But first, let's get that brace off. It barely seems secure anyway."
He knelt before her and gently lifted her skirt to access the brace. He kept his movements respectful, mindful of her modesty. Sensing her slight tension, he spoke reassuringly.
"Gabrielle, I've treated plenty of injuries," he said calmly. "Relax, I promise I won't hurt you."
She bit her lip and took a shaky breath as Buck lifted her skirts higher to remove the brace. His focus was solely on the task at hand. Though his touch was warm, it was professional, and his movements were efficient.
"Just need to feel the bone and make sure everything's aligned," he explained gently.
"Okay," she whispered, hoping he couldn't tell how much his simple touch affected her.
He smoothed her skirt back down and examined her knee, pressing lightly. "I'm going to push your leg in," he instructed. "Push back against my hand as hard as you can."
"All right," she said, determined to cooperate. She pushed back with all her might, keeping her leg straight.
"Feels good," Buck announced with a smile. "Let's try a few steps without the brace," he suggested, offering his hands to help her up.
"It feels so good to bend my knee again!" She exclaimed, taking his hands and putting weight on her leg as she stood up.
"How's the pain?" He asked.
"Good," she replied honestly. "A little weak, but I can put pressure on it without too much discomfort."
His eyes twinkled with amusement. "Think you're up for a short ride?"
"Absolutely!" She beamed.
"All right," Buck instructed, guiding Gabrielle towards the horse. "I'm going to lift you into the saddle. Hold onto this pad here for balance, and you can grip the horse's mane for extra support."
"Got it," she confirmed, a hint of nervousness in her brow.
"The horse might startle a bit at first," Buck explained. "He's not used to you yet."
"I'm ready," Gabrielle declared, taking a deep breath.
Buck carefully lifted her and settled her onto the saddle. He held her steady until she swung her other leg over and found a comfortable position.
"How does it feel?" he asked kindly.
"This is amazing!" Gabrielle exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Her gaze dropped down towards Buck.
"Hold on there, cowgirl," Buck chuckled, reaching out to pat the saddle in front of her. "Let's get you set up properly before we take off. Put your feet in these stirrups here."
Gabrielle followed his instructions, positioning her feet comfortably.
"Perfect," Buck said with approval.
"But how will we manage the trip to Butte Meadows with just one horse?" Gabrielle inquired, a thoughtful frown replacing her earlier excitement.
"I'll ride into Sunriver and get another horse there," Buck explained.
"I can pay for it," Gabrielle insisted.
"I should be able to cover it," Buck reassured her.
"Buck, listen," Gabrielle said earnestly. "This whole situation is my fault. Please let me contribute in any way I can."
Buck conceded with a smile. He led the horse at a slow walk around the encampment, allowing Gabrielle to get accustomed to the feeling of riding. He was happy to see her enjoying herself. The journey to Butte Meadows was a three-day trip for an experienced rider, but with Gabrielle's inexperience and injury, he realistically anticipated it taking at least a week. They would face nights of sleeping outdoors scattered across the journey, so keeping her spirits high was important. He had to admit, for a city girl, she was adapting surprisingly well to this unexpected detour into a rural lifestyle.
Chapter 41
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Jeremiah fidgeted in the pew beside Violette, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The preacher's words washed over him unheard as his gaze kept returning to Violette. Her presence was a warm comfort, and his fingers brushed lightly against hers where they rested side-by-side.
He'd had girlfriends before, but none sparked a connection like Violette. Yet, with each passing day, the return of her sister loomed larger, threatening to take Violette away. He desperately wanted her to stay, but the thought of following her to Baltimore, where he lacked any real skills or prospects, felt impossible.
Lost in his worries, Jeremiah hadn't realized he'd been gripping Violette's hand tightly. When she pulled away, rubbing her fingers with a frown, he apologized sincerely.
"Is everything alright?" Violette asked gently, concern etched on her face.
"Would you mind a walk?" Jeremiah suggested, scratching his head nervously. "There's something I need to talk about."
"Of course," Violette agreed readily.
Teresa, catching up, chimed in, "Can I come too?"
"Sorry, Teresa," Jeremiah replied apologetically. "It's just... something private between Violette and me."
Teresa pouted but didn't argue.
"Tell Louise we'll be back soon," Violette called after her, waving goodbye.
As they walked side-by-side towards the river, Violette turned to Jeremiah. "So, what's on your mind?" she asked with a sweet smile.
Jeremiah met her gaze, his heart pounding. "I wanted to talk to you alone," he began, taking her hand gently in his. "Your sister will be back soon, and I know Baltimore is your home..."
Violette squeezed his hand lightly. "Of course," she admitted. "But that doesn't mean..." Her voice trailed off, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "I like you too, Jeremiah," she confessed shyly.
"The thought of you leaving for Baltimore..." Jeremiah trailed off, his voice heavy with disappointment.
"I'm just sixteen," Violette reminded him softly. "If Gabrielle wants to go home, I can't really say no."
"Maybe you could talk to her," Jeremiah suggested. "Explain how much you've enjoyed getting to know Buck."
Violette considered the idea. "I haven't had much time with Buck, that's true." She paused, a thoughtful expression crossing her features.
Jeremiah's face lit up. "Exactly! And it would give us a chance to get to know each other better as well." He offered a shy smile, his eyes sparkling with hope.
Chapter 42
Zion Encampment, Wyoming - 1874
Gabrielle sat on the porch, her arm wrapped around Abigail's shoulders. Together, they watched Buck saddle the horses. He'd purchased a beautiful bay horse in Sunriver the day before. Strong and steady, it was a good mount, but unfamiliar. Buck knew his horse well and trusted it implicitly. He tied the lead rope of the new horse to his own, then ruffled its mane with a touch of tenderness before connecting the ropes.
"Do you really have to go?" Abigail whispered, leaning into Gabrielle.
"I'm afraid so, sweetheart," Gabrielle replied, stroking the girl's hair. She squeezed Abigail tightly, a smile gracing her lips. "I need to get back home."
"We're all ready to head out," Buck announced, adjusting his hat and glancing at the sky. "Best get going before the day gets any later."
"Help me up, would you?" Gabrielle offered her hands to Buck.
"We'll miss you dearly," Jane said, stepping down from the porch.
"I can't thank you enough for everything," Gabrielle replied, pulling Jane into a warm hug. "Once I'm settled back home, I'll send compensation for your kindness."
"That's a kind thought, dear sister, but there's no need," Luke said, standing beside his wife. "Having you here has been a blessing."
"If my travels ever bring me back this way, I'll be sure to visit," Gabrielle promised, embracing each of the children in turn.
"You'd be most welcome," Jane echoed, squeezing Gabrielle tightly before planting a kiss on her cheek.
Buck placed a wide-brimmed hat on Gabrielle's head, adjusting it for a snug fit. "Thank you, Buck!" She exclaimed.
With a gentle boost, Buck helped Gabrielle onto his horse, then positioned her feet securely in the stirrups.
"We said prayers for your safe journey today," Luke said, placing a hand on Buck's shoulder.
"Thank you, I appreciate that," Buck replied, returning the gesture with a pat on Luke's back. As he approached the other horse, Luke offered him a small book.
"We wanted you to have this," he explained. "God's word has brought so much joy to our lives, we wanted to share it with you."
Buck took the book, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "You know, before I came here, all I had were stories about Mormons," he admitted. "I didn't know what to expect, but your family certainly wasn't it."
"We'd heard our fair share about Indians too," Luke chuckled warmly. "Thankfully, the stories didn't hold true for you either."
Buck shook Luke's hand firmly. "Thank you for your hospitality and for taking such good care of Gabrielle."
"Safe travels," Luke called out as the two riders, once strangers, now friends, set off eastward, disappearing from sight.
Chapter 43
SW border of Nebraska - 1874
The sun dipped towards the horizon, streaking the sky with vibrant hues of pink and gold. Buck noticed Gabrielle shifting uncomfortably in the saddle. He'd stopped periodically throughout the day to rest both horses and Gabrielle, but riding for long stretches was clearly taxing on her, especially with her injured leg. He scanned for a suitable campsite and finally spotted a promising location: a clearing shaded by trees with a nearby stream for water.
"Hungry?" Buck called back over his shoulder, noticing Gabrielle's growing discomfort.
"Starving," she admitted.
"We'll camp here for the night," Buck announced, dismounting and walking towards her.
"So early?" Gabrielle asked, surprised. "I thought we'd ride until sunset."
Buck reached out and helped her down gently. "It's best to give you and the horses a rest."
Gabrielle leaned against her horse, her gaze drifting upwards. Buck was close enough for her to lean in and kiss him. The thought pulsed through her mind. His warm brown eyes seemed even more captivating in the golden light of dusk. She felt herself drawn closer, then abruptly stopped herself. Taking a deep breath, she forced her eyes away from his. Their intensity was almost overwhelming.
"You all right?" Buck asked his grip firm yet gentle around her waist.
"Just tired," she replied with a weak smile, focusing on the buttons on his shirt. "Stopping was a good idea. I could use the rest."
"I'll take advantage of the remaining daylight to find some food for us," Buck said, placing a reassuring arm around her waist and guiding her toward the clearing. "Think you can handle unpacking the bedrolls while I'm gone?"
A flicker of fear flashed in Gabrielle's eyes. "Gone?" She echoed, a slight tremor in her voice. "Where are you going?"
Buck chuckled at her sudden worry. He realized she'd likely never camped before, let alone fended for herself in the wilderness. "Don't worry," he reassured her, squeezing her arm. "I won't be far. Just within sight, gathering some food. You'll be perfectly safe here."
He laid out the bedrolls near the base of a tree and repeated his promise to return before nightfall. He watched as Gabrielle straightened her shoulders, putting on a brave face despite her evident apprehension.
Chapter 44
SW border of Nebraska - 1874
The last sliver of sun dipped below the horizon, cloaking the forest in twilight. As the darkness deepened, a sliver of worry crept into her heart. Gabrielle paced beneath the trees, searching for Buck's silhouette against the darkening sky. He'd promised to be back before nightfall, and her mind conjured unlikely scenarios of him lost or injured.
"Gabrielle," a voice called out.
She whirled around, relief washing over her as she saw Buck's familiar form emerge from the trees. She rushed towards him, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.
"Hey there, you alright?" Buck asked gently, placing a hand on her back.
"Sorry, I just got a little worried," she admitted, stepping back.
"Don't be," Buck reassured her, a smile in his voice. "I told you I'd be back. See?" He gestured towards a bundle slung over his shoulder.
"You found food?" She inquired, her earlier anxieties melting away.
"Yep," Buck confirmed, tossing a cloth sack onto a nearby log. "Enough for a delicious meal."
As Buck prepared the fire, Gabrielle settled onto a bedroll, a slight shiver running through her despite the gathering warmth.
"The thought of wild animals out here spooked me a bit. Bears and wolves and such." She confessed.
Buck chuckled. "Ain't either around here."
"Good to know," she sighed, relieved.
Buck knelt beside her, his expression warm. "Hey," he said kindly, "relax and enjoy the peace for the night. No need to worry you're safe."
A sheepish grin spread across Gabrielle's face. "You're right," she admitted. "I tend to overthink things sometimes." Turning her attention to the present, she perked up. "So, what culinary delights did you bring back for our dinner, oh mighty hunter?"
"Ever had rabbit?" Buck asked.
"Hmm, can't say I have," she replied, eyeing the cloth sack with curiosity.
"You're in for a treat," Buck declared, ushering her to sit and rest her leg after their long ride. With practiced ease, he built a crackling fire and began roasting the rabbits while warming a can of beans. A smile played on his lips as he asked, "Think you'll be alright sleeping out here tonight?"
"Not much choice, is there?" Gabrielle replied, peering up at him from beneath a wrapped blanket.
"True enough," Buck chuckled, testing a piece of meat with a satisfied nod. "Plates, please?"
Gabrielle passed him the plates, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Ever spent a night outdoors before?" Buck inquired, handing her a plate piled with beans and a portion of rabbit.
"Of course I have," she said with a playful eye roll, surveying the unfamiliar dish with a touch of apprehension.
"Here, let me help you with that." Buck settled beside her and quickly pulled the rabbit legs off, placing them on her plate.
"Thanks," she said, surprised by the gesture. Taking a tentative bite, her eyes widened in unexpected delight. The tender meat was surprisingly flavorful.
"What do you think?" Buck asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"This is really good," Gabrielle admitted between chews.
Chapter 45
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
"Jeremiah," Louise called out, beckoning her brother into her bedroom. "Can we talk? It's about Violette."
Jeremiah sighed and shuffled in, slumping onto the bed. "I know, I know Lou. Take it slow and she don't live here."
"I know this is tough," Louise soothed. "But my concern is for both of you. You're young, and she lives far away."
Jeremiah bristled. "I'm not a little kid, Lou. I'm eighteen. I'm a man."
"I know you are." Louise reassured him, softening her tone. "But she's sixteen."
"Look, if I wanted to pursue things seriously..." Jeremiah trailed off, unsure how to articulate his thoughts.
Louise sat beside him on the bed. "If you want to build a future with someone, there are things to consider. You need some independence - a place of your own, and a steady job that can support a future family, if that's what you both want someday."
Jeremiah's eyes lit up. "Maybe Buck would be willing to hire me on as a deputy's assistant. I could learn the ropes from him."
"That's a great idea!" Louise beamed. "Buck's a good mentor to have. I'm proud of you, Jeremiah, for thinking ahead."
"Lou?" Jeremiah hesitated.
"Yes?" she asked, pausing at the doorway.
"Violette comes from a wealthy family," he admitted, a worried frown creasing his brow. "I can't offer her that kind of life."
Louise chuckled. "Sweetheart, very few people have that kind of wealth. It's not the most important thing in a relationship. If Violette cares for you, it will be about who you are, not your bank account. If she needs someone to provide a life of luxury, then maybe she's not the right girl for you anyway."
"I just don't want to disappoint her," Jeremiah said quietly.
"Love isn't about disappointment," Louise said, ruffling his hair with a smile. "It's about supporting each other, no matter what life throws your way."
Chapter 46
SW border of Nebraska - 1874
The fire had dwindled to glowing embers, and Buck decided it was safe to let it die out completely. While he wasn't overly concerned about danger, he wasn't taking unnecessary risks either. He glanced across the clearing at Gabrielle, who sat on her bedroll, brushing out her hair. He'd only seen her hair pinned up or braided, and the moonlight cast an ethereal glow on its rich, almost black hue. He took a deep breath and walked over to his bedroll, settling down with a sleepy yawn.
Sitting on his roll he pulled off his boots and set them downwind. He had been riding all day, he was certain they were in need of a good airing out. Setting his hat next to his boots he laid down and took a long sleepy yawn. A gentle breeze swept across his face, carrying a faint scent of Gabrielle – a mix of sweat, the day's dusty heat, and a hint of lavender soap. The braids had held the fragrance captive, and now as she brushed, it lingered in the air. He sighed contentedly, turning onto his side to gaze at the star-dusted sky. The thought of his boots needing airing out was the furthest thing from his mind.
"That was a delicious dinner," Gabrielle said, setting her brush down and turning towards him. "Thank you."
Buck, caught staring, immediately shifted his gaze to the dying embers. "Just admiring the fire," he mumbled, a touch flustered.
"You looked like you saw a ghost!" She teased, a laugh escaping her lips. "Scared me half to death."
"Nothing like that," he chuckled, relief washing over him.
"Are there rattlesnakes around here?" she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.
"Don't worry about that," Buck reassured her, gazing up at her.
"Remember when I said I'd slept outside before?"
"Yes," he replied, curious where she was going with this.
"Well," she began with a laugh as another gust of wind ruffled their bedrolls, "it was more like me and my sister sprawled out on the lawn one summer night."
"That's about what I figured," Buck said with a smile, watching her struggle to tame her windblown hair with her fingers.
"Maybe I shouldn't have taken my braids out," she grumbled, frustration evident in her voice.
"Your hair looks beautiful down," Buck said softly.
She looked down at him and smiled. His gaze locked with hers and she felt that familiar heat rising in her chest. Her heart pounded, and her pulse quickened. Her mind raced as she leaned closer, just a little closer and she could feel his lips on hers. Her eyes fluttered shut as she closed the gap between them and brushed her lips against his. A warm rush ignited a fire inside her, then as quick as it ignited an icy cold jolt of realization washed over her and she quickly pulled away slightly.
"I'm sorry," She breathlessly tried to focus and regain her composure.
Not wanting to lose this moment, or giving her a second chance to reconsider Buck grazed her cheek with his knuckles as he untwined his fingers in her hair behind her neck and pulled her face back to his. No more dancing around this feeling. He needed her.
His kiss was demanding. He was emboldened when he felt her shift her weight against him and wrap her arms around his neck. Her body melted against his. Her lips parted and his tongue sought her's. Soon a breathless tangle of limbs, Buck laid her down and smoothed out her hair.
"We should get some rest," Buck murmured against her lips, his voice husky with emotion.
He pulled away, his gaze lingering on her face before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and wrapped his arm around her, drawing her close. Despite the growing affection, a sense of doubt lingered in Buck's mind. He knew indulging in these feelings would only lead to heartache for them both.
He wanted to get to know his sister, to have her in his life. How would this element play into things? He knew that Gabrielle was returning home when they returned to Butte Meadows. He was only torturing himself with the possibility of things that would never happen.
As they lay side by side, Gabrielle's hand resting on his chest, a flicker of hope ignited within Buck. The warmth of her presence seemed to melt away the barriers, even if it was just temporary. He closed his eyes, the sound of her soft breathing lulling him into a restless sleep.
Chapter 47
SW boarder of Nebraska - 1874
Buck rustled around the fire, straining coffee through a cloth and discarding the grounds. He divided last night's dinner beans onto plates and unwrapped a couple of biscuits.
"Mmm, is that bacon and eggs I smell?" Gabrielle stretched and turned towards him, a hopeful glint in her eyes. "Maybe a warm croissant?"
"Keep dreamin'," Buck chuckled, turning to see her wince slightly. "You alright?"
"Just a bit stiff," she admitted, rubbing her leg. "Mornings are always the worst."
Buck offered his hand to help her rise. "Here you go."
"Did you sleep well?" She asked, a smile gracing her lips.
"Well enough," Buck replied playfully. "Considering I had a rock for a pillow most of the night." He presented her with a plate. "Breakfast is served."
Gabrielle eyed the meal with amusement. "You know, Buck, I thought the biggest challenge on this trip would be the riding. But maybe it's the food."
"Hey!" Buck feigned offense. "You loved dinner last night."
"Dinner was wonderful," she conceded, taking a bite.
"Coffee?"
"Yes, please."
Buck handed her a mug. "Black, I'm afraid. No cream or sugar."
Gabrielle took a sip, trying to hide a grimace.
Buck noticed her expression. "Judging by your face, I'd say that's strong stuff." He took a swig from his own cup and grimaced. "Wow, you weren't kidding."
A fond smile touched Gabrielle's lips. "There's this little cafe downtown Baltimore," she began, reminiscing. "They have the most incredible pastries. And their coffee is perfectly smooth and delicious."
Buck finished his beans and began to pack up camp. As he saddled the horses, he turned to Gabrielle with a curious glint in his eyes. "Have you ever ventured outside of Baltimore, Brie? Besides this trip, of course."
"Mother took me a few times to New York," Gabrielle brushed the dust off her dress. "I've always wanted to travel though. I want to eat crepes in Paris, walk along the cobblestone roads in London." She looked up at him excitedly. "I want to see the places I've read about in books."
"Well, when you do get to travel," Buck said, helping her onto the horse, "don't forget to have coffee in Italy. They say it's the best."
Gabrielle settled into the saddle, a hopeful glint in her eyes. "Do you think we'll reach Butte Meadows by tonight?"
"Most likely not," Buck replied, adjusting the reins. "Tomorrow seems more realistic, as long as the journey continues smoothly."
Chapter 48
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Kid stirred awake at the creak of a floorboard, peeking open one eye to see who dared disrupt his afternoon nap. A grin spread across his face as he spotted two small feet tapping impatiently. His eyes moved up the tapered trousers and shapely legs, noticing the pistol hung around the narrow waist and hands on hips, an all too familiar stance.
"Well I see you are hard at work Sheriff." Louise teased, raising an eyebrow as she tipped his hat back to reveal his face.
Kid chuckled broadly and rose to meet her. "If someone has to interrupt my nap," he drawled, pulling her close for a kiss, "I'm glad it's you."
"Mmm, flattery will get you everywhere," Louise replied with a playful giggle, returning the kiss.
"It's a good thing you didn't wear those pants when we rode for the express." He spun her around, enjoying the tightly fitted seat of her pants.
"Kid!" Louise feigned surprise, though a smile betrayed her amusement. "Are you blushing?"
"Maybe just a touch," he admitted, wrapping her in a hug and planting another kiss on her cheek.
"What's got you all riled up today." She laughed.
"Truth is, you get me riled up every day," Kid confessed. "Just have to be careful with Jeremiah and Teresa around."
"So, a hotel room getaway sometime?" Louise suggested with a mischievous glint in her eye.
Kid let out a hearty laugh. "When are those two moving out again?"
"Speaking of family," Louise continued, "haven't we talked about having some of our own someday?"
"Well," Kid scratched his head jokingly, "how can we work on that with them taking up all the space?"
"The bedroom does have a door," Louise pointed out with a playful nudge.
"Sorry to interrupt, boss," the deputy said hesitantly. "Anything I need to take care of?"
"Not at all, Douglas," Kid replied, placing a hand on Louise's shoulder. "We're just heading out for a walk around town."
"Any word from Buck yet?" Louise asked, letting Kid take her hand as they strolled down the boardwalk.
"Nope," Kid replied.
"Vee's getting restless," Louise said with a sigh. "She's climbing the walls."
"Well, that might be better than her kissin' Jeremiah in the barn again." Kid chuckled.
"Oh, Kid," Louise nudged him playfully. "Remember how we were back then?"
"Honestly, honey," Kid said with a wink, "I can't remember life before you."
"You charmer," Louise replied, squeezing his hand.
"Seriously though," Kid continued, a touch of concern in his voice, "I'm worried about Jeremiah and Violette. She's young and sheltered, and Jeremiah hasn't seen much of the world either."
"True," Louise agreed.
"They are moving too fast," Kid said, worried about the potential consequences.
"I spoke to Jeremiah," Louise said. "But I don't think it's my place to talk to Violette."
"Hopefully Buck bringing her sister back will cool things down," Kid said with a sigh.
"Actually," Louise began, "I overheard their conversation the other day."
"What did they say?" Kid asked, eyebrows raised.
"Violette mentioned wanting to stay here," Louise explained. "She wants to get to know Buck beter."
"And Jeremiah, I presume?" Kid added with a knowing look.
"Maybe we need to sit down with the both of them and establish courting rules." Louise conceded.
Kid nodded in agreement. "Think we would have listened when we were young?" he asked with a laugh.
"We were older and had more experience," Louise pointed out. "Jeremiah's barely lived outside the orphanage, and Violette seems very sheltered too."
"I don't think that girl has ever seen the outside of her house."
"She is a sweet girl." Louise shook her head.
"I ain't saying she ain't." Kid nodded. "She's a pretty girl too, but she's a little strange is all."
"Strange?" Louise looked up at him curriously. "How so?"
"I'm just sayin', she don't know how to wash dishes, cook, clean."
"You sayin' that's all a woman is good for?" She arched an eyebrow at him.
"Louise, don't you put words in my mouth." He sighed. "It's just she don't seem to know much other than what she's read in a book."
"Give her a chance Kid." Louise pulled him to a stop and kissed his cheek. "I gotta get dinner started. Maybe I'll teach Vee and let her cook dinner!"
"Please, Lou no!" Kid called out and laughed. "It took you a year to stop burning the biscuits."
"I'll remember that Kid!" She waved goodbye as she hurried off towards home.
Chapter 49
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
The sun beat down on Gabrielle's back, dust swirled around their horses' hooves, painting a film of grime on everything. Even the air seemed thick, and heavy. "Buck," she pleaded, her voice hoarse, "can we please stop for a while?"
Buck glanced back at her, a hint of amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. He knew she was miserable. The journey had been long and arduous, a stark contrast to the life of comfort she'd known in Baltimore. "We're making good time, Gabrielle," he said, his voice low and rumbling.
"Good time for what?" She countered, her voice laced with desperation. She gestured at her sweat-darkened clothes, clinging uncomfortably to her skin. "Honestly, Buck, I think these garments are about to stage a walkout."
A full-fledged laugh escaped his lips, the sound rich and warm. It did little to cool the simmering heat rising within him as he pictured her riding nude, the sun caressing every inch of her body. He quickly doused the flames with a mental bucket of decorum. He was on a mission, after all, and anything beyond that was a dangerous distraction.
"Alright," he conceded, scanning the landscape ahead. "Looks like there's a decent little eddy up ahead. We can rest there for a bit."
Relief washed over Gabrielle as strong as the river current. The thought of a cool respite was pure bliss. When they reached the spot, Buck helped her dismount, his hand lingering on hers. The warmth of his fingers sent a jolt through her.
"There. Should offer some privacy." He pointed to a cluster of trees downstream.
She made her way to the trees and with trembling fingers, Gabrielle unfastened her dress, letting it fall in a heap at her feet. Relief flooded her as the cool water cascaded over her dirt-covered skin. Taking a deep breath, she submerged herself fully, letting the current swirl around her.
Suddenly, a flash of movement through the leaves caught her eye. Her breath hitched. There, wading into the crystal-clear water, was Buck. His bare chest gleamed in the sunlight, droplets clinging to his toned muscles, evidence of years spent in hard labor. His hair, usually tamed by a hat, hung loose and wet around his shoulders.
A jolt shot through her, a primal awareness that had nothing to do with respectability or the constraints of society. Her heartbeat echoed a frantic rhythm in her ears. As if sensing her gaze, Buck lifted his head, his eyes locking with hers. Embarrassment flooded Gabrielle's cheeks. She quickly averted her eyes, the cool water suddenly feeling scalding hot.
"Is something wrong, Brie?" Buck's voice was clear over the soft gurgling of the water. She hadn't realized how easily the nickname, once a childhood irritation, could now send a flutter through her heart.
"N-no," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "Everything's fine." She splashed water on her face, hoping to cool the heat that had risen not just from the embarrassment but from the unexpected sight of Buck.
He was a man, rugged and handsome in a way she hadn't allowed herself to consider before. In Baltimore, her world had been one of practicality and responsibilities, leaving little room for frivolity, let alone romance. Now, her first taste of freedom, and it was exhilarating.
Buck seemed to accept her answer, though a flicker of doubt crossed his features. He continued wading further into the water, keeping a respectful distance. Gabrielle took a deep breath, trying to quell the confusion within her. The unexpected intimacy of the situation was both exhilarating and terrifying. She dipped her head under the water again, letting the coolness wash over her not just physically but emotionally as well.
Chapter 50
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Teresa shoved a large bite of chocolate cake into her mouth, washing it down with milk. "I don't see why I couldn't stay for the talk," she mumbled through a mouthful of cake.
Kid smiled and reached back, smoothing Teresa's hair down her back. "You'll be getting the talk soon enough, honey."
"Not if I don't want to get married," she rolled her eyes, finally swallowing the cake.
"Someday you might change your mind about boys," Louise teased, her voice laced with amusement.
Teresa shook her head dramatically. "Not if all boys' feet smell like Jeremiah's."
"Hey!" Kid feigned offense. "My feet don't smell like Jeremiah's."
Louise burst out laughing. "No, they're worse!"
Teresa stuck her tongue out at Kid. "No one's feet are worse than Jeremiah's."
Kid ruffled her hair playfully. "Well, thanks a lot, Tea."
"Alright," Louise said, taking charge. "Finish your cake, then put your plate on the counter. Wash your teeth and face before bed."
Teresa looked hopeful. "Can I stay up and read if I'm in my room?"
"Sure, honey." Louise opened the front door for Jeremiah, who lingered awkwardly standing next to Violette. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a butter knife.
"What's going on?" Jeremiah finally blurted, his gaze darting between his sister and Kid.
Kid offered a reassuring smile. "Have a seat, Jeremiah." He gestured towards the empty chair across from him.
Louise echoed his sentiment, beckoning Violette to join them. "Violette, why don't you take a seat too, honey."
Jeremiah settled into the chair, a frown creasing his forehead. "Why do I feel like we're in trouble and we ain't done nothin'?" He mumbled, suspicion lacing his voice.
Chuckling softly, Kid dispelled his worries. "You ain't in trouble."
"We just want to talk to both of you, together," Louise explained, her voice calm and measured. After placing a slice of chocolate cake in front of each of them, she settled beside her husband. "Vee, since your sister ain't here, we felt it's our responsibility to step in and offer some guidance while she's gone."
Violette's eyes widened in alarm. "Is something wrong with Gabrielle?" She gasped, her voice trembling slightly. "Did you hear from Buck? Is that why they're late?"
"No, sweetie, nothing like that," Louise reassured her, squeezing Violette's hand gently.
"We know you want to stay here in Butte Meadows after your sister goes home," Louise began, her voice taking on a more serious tone.
Kid interjected, placing a hand on Louise's arm. "If your sister allows it, of course."
Louise nodded in agreement. "Right, if you stay, and considering you and Jeremiah seem quite fond of each other, we feel we should set some ground rules for your courtship."
Chapter 51
South West Nebraska - 1874
As the sun set behind the trees, Buck pulled his horse to a stop. The steady beat of hoofbeats faded into quiet. He turned to look at Gabrielle, who was riding just behind him. Her face was set in a pensive expression.
"Looks like a good place to stop for the night," he said, dismounting and stretching his stiff legs.
Gabrielle blinked, pulled from her reverie, the daydream dissolving like mist. The memory of the sparkling blue river and the way sunlight glinted off Buck's wet skin as he emerged from the water sent a flutter to her stomach The way the water trickled down his muscles... she bit her lip and forced herself to take a deep breath. She swallowed hard, averting her gaze.
"Alright," she mumbled, climbing down from her horse.
Buck busied himself tending to the animals, unsaddling them and leading them to a patch of green grass by a nearby stream. Gabrielle watched him for a moment, his movements strong and practiced. Then, with a sigh, she turned to gather firewood.
Twigs snapped under her feet as she walked, the sound echoing in the stillness. Her mind kept replaying the scene at the river – the coolness of the water on her skin, the way Buck had looked at her when they emerged, both of them dripping, hair plastered to their foreheads. Heat rushed to her cheeks. This wasn't proper behavior, not for a woman traveling alone with a stranger. Yet, there was something undeniable about Buck, something that set her pulse racing in ways she hadn't experienced before.
"We're eating good tonight!" Buck emerged from the treeline smiling.
"What delicacy have you brought us this evening, fine sir?" She teased, adopting a mock British accent.
"Duck," Buck confirmed, laying the bird down with a flourish.
"Well, I have certainly enjoyed duck before," she countered with a laugh.
"Thank you for the firewood," Buck said, turning his attention to building a fire for their meal.
"How do you get the feathers off?" Gabrielle asked, hesitantly reaching out to touch the duck.
"He won't bite," Buck chuckled, sensing her apprehension.
"But how did you get close enough to shoot him?" She persisted, curiosity sparking in her eyes.
"An arrow," Buck replied simply, gesturing towards the log where his bow rested.
"Oh, I hadn't noticed you had a bow with you," Gabrielle admitted, surprised.
"Always good to have a bow and arrows," Buck explained. "Makes hunting a little easier." He began to prepare the duck, expertly removing its wings. "I keep them under my bedroll. Easy access, but they don't attract attention when I'm riding through town."
Gabrielle's gaze drifted towards the quiver of arrows. "May I touch them?" She inquired, her voice filled with a childlike wonder.
"Sure, go ahead," Buck replied with a nod.
As Buck focused on preparing their dinner, Gabrielle's full attention turned to the bow and arrows. Her fingers traced the smooth wood of the bow, lingering on the intricate leather wrapping of the quiver.
"Did you make these yourself?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper as she gently pulled an arrow out, her touch feather-light as she examined the craftmanship.
"I did," Buck confirmed, a hint of pride in his voice as he watched her closely.
"I've never seen a bow and arrow up close before," Gabrielle confessed, her voice tinged with awe. "Read about them, of course, and seen pictures, but this..." she trailed off, unable to express the wonder she felt.
"What do you think?" Buck prompted gently.
Her answer came swift and sure. "I want to learn how to use it."
Surprise flickered across Buck's face. "You do?"
A flicker of uncertainty crossed Gabrielle's features. "Is that wrong? Can women not use them?"
"No, no," Buck reassured her quickly. "I'll teach you if you'd like." He rinsed his hands with water from their canteen. "Let's get the duck cooking first. Why don't you set up the bedrolls, and then we can head over to those trees. I'll show you the basics of using the bow."
The rich aroma of dinner filled the air as Buck stirred the pot, the sound punctuated by the rhythmic clinking of the lid. He'd chopped the bird into hearty chunks, browning them in its own rendered fat for added flavor. Water bubbled merrily as he rummaged through his saddlebags, pulling out a handful of potatoes.
Gabrielle, who had finished laying out the bedrolls, caught his eye and he gestured for her to come closer.
"Ready to give that bow a try?" he asked with a smile.
Her face lit up with excitement. "Absolutely!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet and following him towards the tree line.
They reached a cluster of trees bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Buck pointed to a specific one. "See that oak with the hollow trunk over there? That's your target."
Taking a deep breath, Gabrielle accepted the bow from his outstretched hand. He started with her stance, guiding her to position her feet shoulder-width apart for stability. "Perfect," he said, his voice warm and encouraging. "Now, are you right or left-handed?"
"Right-handed," she replied.
"Good," he continued. "Take the bow in your left hand, nice and relaxed. Don't grip it too tightly."
Gabrielle adjusted her hold, mirroring his demonstration.
"The arrow goes on the string like this," Buck said, nocking an arrow onto the bowstring. He then gently positioned her fingers on the string. "This hand holds the shaft of the arrow in place."
A puzzled frown creased Gabrielle's brow. "So, the arrow just... stays?"
Chuckling softly, Buck reassured her. "Exactly. It'll rest on your hand for balance but don't grip it. See?" He pulled the string back, demonstrating the proper hand position. "Use your back muscles for the draw, not your arm. It'll give you more power and control."
Gabrielle mimicked his movement, but her initial attempt resulted in the arrow falling limply to the ground. "Oh!" She exclaimed, a touch of disappointment tinging her voice.
"No worries," Buck said calmly, retrieving the arrow. "Just let it glide along your hand as you draw back, don't hold onto it. Here, let me show you again." He re-nocked the arrow and guided her hand through the motion, emphasizing the use of back muscles for a smoother draw.
"Now, aim for the center of the tree," he instructed, gently guiding her aim. "Keep the string pulled back until you're ready to release, but hold the bow steady until the arrow hits."
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Gabrielle focused on the target. With a hesitant release of her fingers, the string slipped free, sending the arrow whistling through the air.
"I hit it!" She cried out with delight, turning to Buck with a wide grin.
"Excellent aim!" Buck praised a hint of pride in his voice. "See? Natural talent."
The day's last rays slipped away, leaving the meadow bathed in a dim, bluish light. Gabrielle continued to practice under Buck's patient guidance. With each passing attempt, her accuracy improved, fueled by a mixture of newfound confidence and the thrill of hitting her mark. Finally, as dusk settled, Buck retrieved the arrows, and they headed back to camp, their bellies rumbling in anticipation of a well-earned dinner.
Chapter 52
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Curiosity gnawed at Teresa as she rolled over in bed, peering at the still form of Violette next to her. "Did you get in trouble?" She whispered, hoping to pry some information loose.
Silence.
"Vee!" Teresa pressed, her voice laced with playful accusation. "Violette, I know you're awake,"
A muffled sigh escaped Violette as she rolled towards Teresa. "No," she mumbled, but the lack of conviction did little to dispel Teresa's suspicion.
"What did you talk about then?" Teresa persisted. "Come on, spill the beans!"
Violette hesitated, then sighed dramatically. "Boy-girl stuff," she said dismissively. "Nothing you'd be interested in."
"I might be someday!" Teresa countered, a pout forming on her lips. "Everyone treats me like a kid. It's not fair, I'm only a year younger than you!"
Violette shifted uncomfortably. "Well, Kid and Louise laid down some ground rules for Jeremiah and me if we want to..." she trailed off, searching for the right word.
"If you want to what?" Teresa prompted, her curiosity piqued.
"If we want to... pursue our relationship," Violette finished awkwardly.
"When you talk like that you so sound like an adult." Teresa snickered. "How did you learn to talk so fancy."
"Tutors I suppose." She shrugged.
"But how do you even know you like Jeremiah?" Teresa continued, her tone shifting to one of genuine curiosity. "He ain't smart like you."
Violette's lips curved into a small smile. "He's kind," she said softly. "The other day, he picked me a whole bunch of wildflowers."
A mischievous glint entered Teresa's eyes. "So, if you marry him, does that mean you'll move to Baltimore with him?"
Violette shook her head firmly. "I wouldn't think so."
"It's so boring here!" Teresa exclaimed with a groan. "Don't you have a huge house in Baltimore?"
Violette chuckled. "It's my sister's house."
"But still," Teresa persisted, "a big city must be amazing. There's always something going on, right?"
"Maybe," Violette conceded. "But there are good things here too. Like how everyone knows everyone else, and you can always count on your neighbors for help."
Teresa pondered this for a moment, a thoughtful frown replacing her earlier frustration. "Yeah, I guess you wouldn't have that in a big city, would you?" She admitted reluctantly.
"I don't think I've ever met my neighbors."
"Still I don't think you can live here with us once you get married."
"Teresa, I'm only sixteen. I'm not getting married anytime soon." Violette laughed.
Just then, a stern voice called out from down the hall. "Go to sleep, girls!" Louise commanded.
Teresa and Violette exchanged a giggle, the tension from earlier dissipating. Pulling the covers over their shoulders, they settled in for the night, Teresa's mind still buzzing with questions about boys, relationships, and the world beyond Butte Meadows.
Chapter 53
SW Nebraska - 1874
The fire danced cheerfully, its light playing across Buck and Gabrielle's features as they relaxed in easy quiet together. Each seemed lost in their thoughts, eyes fixed on the mesmerizing dance of the flames. A cool breeze swept through the clearing, sending a shiver down Gabrielle's arms. Buck noticed her subtle tremble. Without a word, he rose and fetched a woolen blanket, draping it gently over her shoulders.
His touch lingered for a moment as he brushed his hands down her arms, a silent question in his gaze. A small smile played on Gabrielle's lips, her voice barely a whisper when she said, "Come sit with me."
Buck didn't hesitate. He settled himself beside her, their shoulders brushing. As the warmth from the fire and the blanket enveloped her, Gabrielle leaned closer, her head resting against his strong arm. A flicker of concern crossed Buck's face as he noticed the furrow in her brow.
"What's wrong?" He asked softly, his voice laced with concern.
She sighed, "I can't help but think about everything waiting for me back home." The carefree spirit that had bloomed during their journey seemed to dim, replaced by the worry lines etched back onto her face.
"Home is still far away," Buck reminded her gently. "You're here now."
His words were a simple truth, yet held a deeper meaning. He yearned for her to cherish this time, to be present with him, just as he was with her. He cupped her cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped her eye.
Buck leaned in, his lips meeting hers. Her response was hesitant at first, a mere brush of their mouths. But as the kiss deepened, a spark ignited within her, melting away her resistance. She pulled back, breathless, a mixture of confusion and desire clouding her eyes.
"Buck," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, "I care for you deeply. But there's so much to consider." She began listing her anxieties, her voice laced with worry, "The distance, how Violette would feel about..."
"Don't," he murmured, his voice husky.
Before she could continue, he closed the space between them once more. This kiss was different, urgent, desperate. It was a plea, a silent beg for her to simply be there, in his arms, in this moment. He didn't want justifications or reasons; he craved the feeling of her next to him, the warmth of her touch.
Gabrielle turned and settled herself on his lap, her back against his chest. Buck wrapped his arms around her, his hand gently stroking her hair. He dipped his head, peppering kisses along the exposed skin of her neck.
She gasped, pulling back slightly. "Buck," she breathed, her voice trembling. "Are you trying to convince me to stay?"
"If only it were that simple," he replied, a touch of frustration lacing his voice. He wanted a future with her, a future they could build together. But the weight of reality hung heavy between them.
Gabrielle rested her head against his chest, feeling the conflict raging within her. The pull of her heart towards Buck was undeniable, but the fear of the unknown held her back. She knew that staying would mean letting go of the life she had been born to, stepping into a world where nothing was certain except for the love she felt for him.
Buck sensed her hesitation and tightened his hold around her, as if trying to shield her from all the uncertainties that lay ahead. "I can't promise you a smooth journey, Gabrielle," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. "But I can promise you that I'll be by your side every step of the way."
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she turned to look at him, seeing the sincerity in his gaze. In that moment, she knew that no matter what the future held, she wanted him to be a part of it. Slowly, she reached up to cup his face in her hands and pressed a tender kiss on his lips.
Chapter 54
SW Nebraska - 1874
"I was wondering when you'd wake up," Buck said with a grin, noticing Gabrielle stretch languidly within the confines of her bedroll.
"I've been awake." She replied, sitting up and scooting closer to the fire's warmth. "I was just enjoying watching you make breakfast."
Buck chuckled. "Afraid it's a bit of a meager spread this morning." He approached her, a steaming mug held out in his hand. "Coffee?"
"Mmm, thank you." Gabrielle gratefully accepted the mug, the warmth seeping into her chilled fingers.
"Biscuits are a little worse for wear, and all we have left is an apple," Buck admitted with a shrug.
Gabrielle took a sip of her coffee, her smile unwavering. "We'll be in Butte Meadows today, right?"
A flicker of disappointment crossed Buck's features, though he tried to mask it. The thought of reaching Butte Meadows and their inevitable goodbye loomed large in his mind.
"Yeah," he managed, forcing a positive tone. "Looking forward to seeing Violette again, I imagine?"
"Very much," Gabrielle confirmed, her eyes sparkling. "This has been the longest we've ever been apart."
Buck raised an eyebrow playfully. "She's practically an adult now. Needs to spread her wings a little, wouldn't you say?"
"I suppose," Gabrielle agreed, a touch of melancholy in her voice.
"Wish I'd had the chance to get to know her better," Buck said with a hint of regret.
Gabrielle's smile faltered slightly. "You speak as if this is goodbye."
He looked away, avoiding her gaze. "Time and distance have a way of..." His voice trailed off, the unspoken sentiment hanging heavy in the air.
"Buck," Gabrielle began, her voice soft and meek.
But before she could voice her thoughts, Buck cut her off. "We should get going," he said abruptly, his tone clipped. The playful banter and easy camaraderie of the previous days seemed to have vanished, replaced by a heavy silence.
Gabrielle understood. He didn't want to hear her reasons for leaving, for returning to her life. Perhaps a part of her didn't want to say them out loud either. The truth was, she barely knew him. This intense connection they'd shared on the trail felt like a whirlwind, a beautiful dream. But reality beckoned, with responsibilities and uncertainties that stretched far beyond the horizon.
As they mounted their horses and rode out in a tense silence, Gabrielle tried to appreciate the scenery, the last remnants of their journey together. Yet, Buck's downcast mood cast a shadow over her, solidifying her resolve. She needed to get home. Not just to face the stockholders but also to gain some clarity, some distance from the powerful feelings Buck had awakened within her.
Chapter 55
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Teresa and Violette sat on the porch, their needles flitting across the canvas of a needlepoint picture for Louise's birthday when they both heard a loud commotion coming from town. Whinnying horses and boisterous voices – shattered the usual tranquility of town.
Teresa, sprang to her feet and peered over the porch railing. "Vee!" She shrieked, her voice laced with excitement. "I think it's your sister!"
Violette's head snapped up at the news. "Brie?" She echoed, disbelief coloring her voice. Without another word, she dashed down the road, her heart pounding.
As Violette rounded the corner, the sight that greeted her confirmed Teresa's words. There, outside the Sheriff's station, sat Gabrielle, dismounted from her horse and locked in a tight embrace with Louise. Relief washed over Violette, momentarily stealing the breath from her lungs.
Just then, Gabrielle turned, her face lighting up at the sight of her sister. "Vee!" She called out, her voice filled with warmth. Violette didn't hesitate. In a blur of motion, she launched herself into Gabrielle's arms, burying her face in her sister's hair.
"I missed you so much!" Violette exclaimed, her voice muffled by Gabrielle's shoulder.
"I missed you too," Gabrielle replied, gently stroking her sister's hair.
"I'm so sorry." Violette cried, her tears wetting Gabrielle's shoulder. "I never should have said those things to you."
"Shhh, it's alright" Gabrielle gently stroked her sister's back. "I know, I know."
A torrent of questions tumbled from Violette's lips. "What happened? The telegram Buck sent said you were injured! Did he find you? Where were you staying? How did he find you?"
"Whoa there, Violette, one question at a time," Gabrielle chuckled placing a calming kiss on her cheek. "I promise, I'll tell you everything. But first, take a breath."
A reassuring hand settled on Violette's shoulder. It was Buck, his presence a silent reassurance of the ordeal they had both endured. "I promised I would bring her home," he said softly.
Tears welled up in Violette's eyes as she turned to Buck and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you so much," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I can never thank you enough."
Louise stepped forward and linked her arm with Gabrielle's. "I imagine you two are famished," she said with a warm smile. "Why don't we get you cleaned up and then have some dinner?"
Relief and gratitude washed over Gabrielle. "Sounds perfect," she agreed, turning to Violette and slipping her arm around her sister's shoulders. "There's so much to tell you."
Chapter 56
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Despite the warm welcome at the McCloud dinner table, a shadow loomed over Gabrielle's homecoming. There wasn't enough space for her to stay with them, and Buck, though tempted, knew offering his own place would be a step too far. It was time to let go.
The earlier part of the evening had been a delightful whirlwind of shared stories. Gabrielle and Buck had recounted their adventures since their separation, her tale of initial fear and uncertainty intertwined with his extensive search. They spoke of the Pearsons, the warmth of their unexpected family for a brief time.
But as the plates were cleared and conversation shifted, a subtle change occurred. Buck felt it like a physical distance growing between them. Violette had shared news of a visit from the family attorney, Mr. Galveston, and his chilling warning: the board of directors planned to remove Gabrielle from her position if she missed the next meeting.
The carefree spirit that had bloomed during their journey seemed to visibly dim within Gabrielle. Her eyes, once sparkling with amusement, now flickered with worry. Buck recognized that distant look, the mind consumed by a storm of anxieties. The joyful light he had come to cherish had flickered out.
The weight of their goodbye settled heavily upon him. He knew, with a dull ache in his heart, that their shared journey was ending.
Chapter 57
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Gabrielle woke at dawn and dressed quickly. Baltimore awaited, and tough decisions loomed.
Reaching the stage, she was relieved to learn they were leaving for the train depot that afternoon. With tickets and luggage secured, she hurried to the McCloud house to fetch Violette.
"Good morning, Gabrielle," Louise greeted her at the door, a dusting of flour in her hair.
"Are you cooking?" Gabrielle gasped, surprised to see her sister in the kitchen.
"The girls are helping make apple turnovers," Louise explained.
"Vee, I can't believe it! You never set foot in the kitchen before," Gabrielle laughed.
"I've learned a lot since you've been gone," Violette said proudly.
"Well, we'll have to continue exploring your talents when we return to Baltimore," Gabrielle replied.
"Brie, can't I stay a little longer?" Violette pleaded.
Gabrielle sighed. "Let's step outside," she said, ushering her sister out.
"I don't want to go home yet," Violette begged.
"I don't want to have this argument again," Gabrielle said quietly. "You know I have to go home. You told me yourself what is going to happen if I don't."
"Why can't I stay here?" Violette whined. "I barely got to spend any time with Buck! You had more time with him than I did."
Despite understanding Violette's yearning for her brother, Gabrielle couldn't help the flicker of selfishness in her stomach. The thought of the empty house, the silence echoing loneliness, was a burden Gabrielle had to face alone. Buck's voice, a faint echo in her mind, offered a gentle reminder: "She needs to spread her wings."
"If Buck agrees," Gabrielle said cautiously, "you can stay."
Violette's eyes widened. "Really?"
"Yes, but pack your bag. We leave if he says no."
The front door creaked open, revealing Louise. "Sorry to eavesdrop," she said with a smile. "You two were a little loud." Louise gestured toward the porch chairs. "Vee, why don't you head inside and let me talk to your sister for a moment?"
"I apologize we were so loud." Gabrielle said, sitting down next to Louise.
"Don't worry about it." She smiled and grabbed Gabrielle's hands. "Having a teenager around might be overwhelming for Buck with his work schedule."
"I know," Gabrielle said, her voice thick with emotion. "I want them to have time together. Buck mentioned also he wanted more time with Violette. I feel awful it wasn't a priority."
Louise squeezed Gabrielle's hand warmly. "Don't blame yourself. We'd love to have Violette stay as long as she'd like."
"I wouldn't want to impose," Gabrielle began.
"No imposition at all," Louise interrupted with a smile. "Just as long as Violette and Teresa don't mind sharing a room."
"I could send money for boarding and..."
"That's not necessary. We're happy to have her," Louise reassured her. "But there's something you should know that's happened since you've been gone."
Gabrielle's brow furrowed. "What is it?"
"Jeremiah and Violette seem quite taken with each other," Louise said with a shrug. "Jeremiah asked permission to court her."
"Oh," Gabrielle sighed, realizing how quickly Violette was growing up.
"We talked to them both and set some ground rules for their 'courting,'" Louise explained. "And don't worry, they're being closely supervised."
Gabrielle considered it for a moment. "I suppose that's alright."
Louise's smile was mischievous. "Just let us know when you'd like Violette to come home. Teresa and I wouldn't mind a little train ride to Baltimore with her. It could be a fun adventure."
"That sounds wonderful," Gabrielle replied, a small smile finally breaking through. "And when you get there, I'd love to take you both around the city."
Chapter 58
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Gabrielle lingered outside the Sheriff's office, watching Buck through the window. Her heart ached at the thought of leaving, but loyalty to her family demanded this sacrifice. With a deep breath, she steeled herself and entered the office.
"Kid mentioned Vee's staying with them," Buck acknowledged, his face unreadable.
"I know you two didn't have much time together," Gabrielle said with a shrug.
"Thank you for that."
"You're welcome." There was an awkward pause.
"Leaving on this coach?" Buck asked, glancing out the window.
"Yes."
"Well, have a safe trip home."
"Thank you."
"Damn it." Buck rose impulsively and crossed the room. Before he could hesitate, he pulled Gabrielle into a tight embrace, his kiss fierce and demanding.
"Don't leave," he murmured against her lips. "Marry me. We can build a new life together. It might not be the luxury you're accustomed to, but we'll manage."
Gabrielle pulled away, her eyes filled with sadness. "Buck, it's not that simple." She traced a finger down his chest. "I carry the weight of my family's name. Growing up, running the family business was never a choice, just an expectation. You opened my eyes to a life beyond that, a life with possibilities I never knew existed."
"What are you saying?" Buck's voice was thick with emotion.
"I don't know, but I know I don't want to live my life in a cage anymore." She smiled and, looking for understanding in his eyes.
"Will I see you again?" The question hung heavy in the air.
"Of course," she said with a small smile. She leaned in and kissed him softly. "I told you, this isn't goodbye, Buck."
Buck held her close for a moment longer before she pulled away and walked out to the waiting coach. He watched it disappear into the distance, a knot of uncertainty tightening in his stomach. Would this truly be their last encounter?
Chapter 59
Baltimore, Maryland - 1874
The Candlelight flickered across the library walls, casting dancing shadows that mirrored Gabrielle's swirling thoughts. She dipped her pen repeatedly, only to let the ink dry unused as the right words remained elusive.
"Miss Laurent?" Natalia's soft voice came from outside the closed door.
"Yes, Natalia?"
"Is there anything you need before I turn in for the night?"
"No, thank you, Natalia," Gabrielle said with a grateful smile.
Natalia's quiet footsteps retreated down the hallway. Gabrielle glanced at the few letters from her sister, a smile gracing her lips. Teresa seemed happy and adjusted to school life away from the city, but Gabrielle missed her dearly. She'd written back, mentioning Mr. Galveston's help and her hope to wrap things up by year's end.
Buck's letter, however, remained a daunting task. Silence stretched between them, gnawing at her. He'd confessed his love, yet here she was, the one who left. A frown creased her brow as she took a deep breath and dipped the pen once more.
My dearest Buck,
I trust this letter finds you well. Violette's letters mentioned her riding lessons and how much she's enjoying Butte Meadows. You have introduced her to a world I never could and I'm incredibly grateful she could spend time with you.
As for things here, I should finalize everything by the new year. However, there's a bigger question looming - what do I truly want from life?
She paused, rolling her eyes at herself. Pouring her heart out on paper felt inauthentic. Certainties had emerged during these weeks at home: selling her share of the family business and wanting a future with Buck. Tapping the pen on the desk, she willed the right words to flow.
I hope and pray that you afford me patience. I look forward fondly, to seeing you again.
Sincerely, Gabrielle
Chapter 60
Baltimore, Maryland - 1874
Gabrielle's impatience manifested as a sharp tapping on the cherrywood desk. Every second stretched into an eternity as the meeting with the board of directors and attorneys droned on for nearly two hours. Back in October, she'd returned to Baltimore unsure of what would happen.
The following months had been a whirlwind of negotiations. Mr. Galveston, a seasoned attorney, had become her rock, navigating the legalese and fierce bargaining with the board. Today marked at last, the fourth meeting and final meeting, and with each passing minute, Gabrielle's desire for a definitive answer intensified.
The door creaked open, momentarily breaking the tense silence. Her attorney entered with a triumphant glint in his eyes. He closed the door behind him with a soft click and strode towards her with purpose.
"They've agreed to your stipulation, Miss. Laurent," he announced, his voice warm with satisfaction. "You'll retain thirty-five percent ownership of the company." He slid a document across the polished surface of the desk. "And this," he tapped the paper with his finger, "represents their offer to acquire your remaining shares."
Gabrielle's perfectly manicured hand instinctively reached for the document. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes scanned the hefty sum listed. It far surpassed anything she'd anticipated.
"And my family name?" She managed to ask, her voice surprisingly steady despite the whirlwind within.
"Permanent," Mr. Galveston confirmed with a reassuring smile. "That was a non-negotiable point for you, and they understood."
"Then it's settled," she said, a barely perceptible shrug betraying the complexity of her feelings.
"Indeed," her attorney replied, his voice laced with a hint of finality. "As far as relinquishing control of the company, yes. However, your remaining shares will continue to generate dividends, providing you with a steady income."
Gabrielle took a deep breath, grounding herself. This was the moment she'd been working toward. A bittersweet culmination of months of strategic planning and emotional turmoil. Steadier now, she poised the pen over the contract ready to sign.
"Alright," she declared, her voice firm with a newfound resolve.
"Excellent," Mr. Galveston beamed. "With the sale complete, I can put you in touch with a reputable investor for your future endeavors. With your vision and the capital at your disposal, the possibilities are endless, Gabrielle."
"Thank you, Mr. Galveston," she replied. As she signed the contract with a flourish, a wave of freedom washed over her. This wasn't just an ending; it was the beginning of a fresh start, a chance to forge her own path, one guided by her own desires and dreams.
Chapter 61
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1874
Fueled by the well-worn letter in his pocket, a reminder of why he started this path, Buck had kept his promise to the mayor and stayed on as sheriff until the town held a new election. He polished the tarnished silver star on his vest, for a split second considering changing his mind. That was almost a month ago. Handing the badge to his friend and smiling, Buck knew the town was in the best hands. He also knew he was making the right choice.
"You sure about this Buck?" Kid questioned as he took the badge from his friend.
"Crazy as it sounds." Buck took a deep breath and smiled.
"I'd like to caution you," Kid shook his head and chuckled. "You know, you haven't had the best track record with the ladies."
"You just got lucky." Buck raised one eyebrow and gave him a lopsided grin.
"I did." Kid nodded and put his hat on as they walked to the door of the sheriff's office.
Chapter 62
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1875
The biting wind wielded a cruel edge, whipping around Gabrielle as she disembarked the stagecoach. It had been a long journey, and impatience gnawed at her. Ideally, she would have set out for Butte Meadows the moment the ink dried on the final contract, but a brutal winter storm had forced her to wait. Now, bundled in layers beneath a heavy coat and gloves, she longed for the warmth of a fire and the familiar faces that awaited her.
The nausea that had plagued her throughout the journey resurfaced. With a grimace, she excused herself and found a discreet spot behind a building. Relief washed over her as the dizziness subsided. Straightening her rumpled clothing, she returned to the stagecoach to find her two trunks deposited on the boardwalk.
"Looking for a room, miss?" A weathered man with a friendly smile emerged from the hotel across the street.
"Yes, please," Gabrielle replied gratefully. Leaving the icy air behind, she entered the warmth of the hotel and followed the man to a room.
Letting out a sigh of relief, she tossed her handbag onto the bed and surveyed the haven. A simple washstand and a sturdy bed offered a welcome respite. Running a cool washcloth across her face and arms, she relished in the momentary stillness. Unfastening her travel cloak, she slipped into a fresh dress, the cool lace front a stark contrast to the wool fabric she'd been wearing. With practiced ease, she secured the buttons and tied a vibrant green sash around her waist.
Turning to the mirror, she began to brush her long, dark hair, its waves catching the faint light filtering through the window. As she did, a cascade of items tumbled from her overturned handbag. With a sigh, she paused her grooming and quickly gathered the scattered belongings – handkerchief, notepad, a well-worn locket. After braiding her hair and securing it with a pair of pins, she stuffed everything back into the bag and snapped it shut. One last glance in the mirror, a slight adjustment of a stray curl she stepped out of the room, locking the door behind her.
Her brisk walk through town carried a sense of urgency. The wind howled around her, twisting her skirts and threatening to snatch her breath away. Yet, the sight of smoke billowing from the McCloud's chimney instilled a warmth in her chest that no coat could provide. Her gloved hand, numb from the cold, hammered against the sturdy wooden door.
"Gabrielle!" Louise exclaimed, pulling her inside.
"Hello!" Gabrielle managed a smile, her voice tight as her sister barreled into her with a hug.
"Brie! Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Violette's voice was filled with excitement.
"Surprise, I guess," Gabrielle replied.
"You shouldn't have traveled in this weather," Louise chided, her brow furrowed with concern.
"I wanted to be here sooner," Gabrielle said her voice barely a whisper. "It just...wasn't possible."
"The boys will be back soon," she continued, her words rushed. "Jeremiah's taken over the livery stable since...well, since Kid became sheriff."
Gabrielle's breath caught in her throat. "Sheriff?" She echoed, the word a foreign sound in the room.
Louise's hand froze mid-stir, a dollop of cream plopping onto the counter with a soft plop. Her smile became a grimace. "Oh, yeah. Well, it's..."
"Is Buck alright?" Gabrielle's voice was sharp, cutting through the awkward silences.
"It's something you should talk to him about," Louise offered weakly, her gaze darting away.
The unfinished sentence hung in the air. Gabrielle's heart pounded as her mind raced. Injured? Ill? She knew Buck and his unwavering dedication to his duty. Resigning wasn't a decision he'd take lightly. A knot of worry twisted in her gut. Something big had happened, and Louise's nervous demeanor wasn't helping.
"Louise, you can't just..." Gabrielle began, her voice rising in frustration.
"They'll be here for dinner," Louise interrupted, her smile strained. "It shouldn't be long." Her forced cheer did little to dissipate the storm brewing in Gabrielle's heart.
Gabrielle remained silent, her lips pressed into a thin line. Louise wouldn't budge. Was it something Buck didn't want her to know? Had he changed his mind? Was there someone else? A million questions swirled in her head, each one a fresh stab of worry. She stole a glance at the doorway, willing Buck to appear and put an end to this agonizing wait.
Chapter 63
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1875
Every creak of the floorboard sent a jolt through Gabrielle. Her gaze darted from the window to the doorway, each tick of the clock echoing in the anxious silence. Finally, a faint sound of footsteps on the porch cut through the tense air. With a surge of nervous energy, she sprang from her chair, her heart hammering against her ribs. Throwing open the door, she found herself face-to-face with Kid and Jerimiah.
"Well, hey there!" Kid fumbled with his hat as he made his way over to Lou. "Did I forget?" Kid mumbled conspiratorially into Louise's ear. "We weren't expecting you, were we?"
"Not a word," Louise replied with a wink, her smile tinged with a hint of nervousness as she leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek. "She just decided to surprise us."
"Nice to see you again, Ma'am," Jeremiah offered shyly, his voice barely audible. Violette nudged him playfully, earning a shared giggle.
"Good to see you both," Gabrielle replied, as her gaze darted past them, searching the gathering dusk for a single figure.
"Buck should be along shortly," Kid said, his voice laced with a hint of amusement as he noticed her lingering stare. "He stopped by the office earlier and said he'd be here after settling up at the general store."
The mention of Buck sent a fresh wave of nervous anticipation coursing through her. "It is a bit warm in here, isn't it?" She murmured, the question more a nervous excuse than anything else. Stepping out onto the porch, she welcomed the cool evening air against her flushed cheeks. "I think I'll wait out here just until dinner."
"Don't catch a chill," Louise called after her, the amusement evident in her voice.
Louise was right, Gabrielle thought amusingly. The air held a bite, sharpening with each passing minute. But the physical discomfort paled in comparison to the storm brewing within her. It wasn't the cold that made her breath come out in white puffs – it was the gnawing worry knotting her stomach.
Every rustle in the wind, every creak of the porch swing, sent her heart leaping into her throat. As the last sliver of sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and pink, she finally spotted a lone figure rounding the corner from town. Her heart raced, each step Buck took echoing in the growing silence.
"Brie?" Buck's voice carried a hint of surprise as he approached the porch.
In a rush of pent-up emotions, she jumped up from the bench and practically leaped down the steps. Reaching the bottom step, she didn't hesitate – she threw herself into his welcoming embrace.
"Buck!" She exclaimed, burying her face in his chest. "Are you alright? Are you hurt? Louise said you weren't sheriff anymore!" Her voice trembled with a mix of relief and confusion.
A soothing warmth enveloped her as Buck wrapped his arms around her tightly. "Shh, it's okay," he murmured. "Everything's fine."
She gently pulled back, her gaze searching his face. "You're not sick, are you?" She pressed, her eyes scanning his for any sign of injury.
"Not a bit," he chuckled, a hint of amusement softening his eyes. "I quit my job, that's all."
"You quit?" The question echoed in the night, laced with disbelief.
"Yeah," he confirmed, a sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Because I was planning on heading to Baltimore."
Her breath hitched. "For me?" She whispered.
"I don't know anyone else there," he replied, his voice a husky murmur. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer.
The world around them seemed to fade away. Gabrielle closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of his embrace. This was what she'd longed for, the feel of his arms around her, the comforting scent of him that filled her senses. The months of separation melted away in that instant.
She wasn't sure how he would feel after all this time, but as she gazed into his eyes all the doubts that lingered vanished. She missed him. She missed this. And as their lips met in a kiss filled with longing, she knew, with a certainty that warmed her from the inside out, that she was finally home.
"Dinner's ready," Louise announced, her voice carrying through the cracked doorway.
"We'll be right in," Gabrielle replied, a touch of regret tingeing her voice as she stepped back from Buck's embrace. But the regret was quickly replaced by a surge of determination. Taking his hand in hers, she squeezed gently. "Come on," she said, pulling him up the porch steps towards the door.
Buck, his gaze lingering on her face, followed readily. As they reached the doorway, he bent down to retrieve her handbag that had fallen unnoticed on the floor. He dusted it off with a gentle hand, then paused. A white corner of fabric caught his eye – her handkerchief. He picked it up, intending to return it, but his eyes snagged on a telltale glimpse of paper peeking from its folds.
His smile faltered as he unfolded the handkerchief, revealing two pristine tickets. The scripted lettering on them sent a jolt through him: "SS City of Paris, First Class."
"Leaving so soon?" He asked, his voice strained. He held the tickets out to her, watching as she shoved them back into her bag with a nonchalant shrug.
"Remember? Crepes in Paris, cobblestones streets in London." She said lightly, her voice failing to mask a hint of nervousness.
"Coffee in Italy," Buck replied, forcing a smile that felt brittle on his lips. "I remember." The unexpected news left him reeling. Had their reunion been a bittersweet goodbye all along?
"It would be even more enjoyable if we were on our honeymoon," she smiled and nervously bit down on her lip as she waited for his reply.
Buck's head snapped up, confusion etched on his face. "Honeymoon?"
A radiant smile lit up her face as she took his hands. "Remember you told me to find out what I wanted out of life?"
Buck's brow furrowed. He vaguely recalled the conversation, a lifetime ago it seemed.
"And?" He prompted, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest.
"I want you." She leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a soft, searching kiss, silently apologizing for any unspoken doubts. "I love you, Buck."
Their kiss deepened, a gentle exploration of emotions long held back. Buck wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer as if afraid she might disappear. The world around them seemed to fade away. In that moment, all doubts and fears melted away.
And as they broke apart, breathless and flushed with emotion, Gabrielle whispered against his lips, "You asked me to marry you once," her voice barely a whisper. "If you are so inclined," she continued, her eyes searching his with a vulnerability that stole his breath, "I'd love nothing more than to be your wife."
Relief, joy, and a love so fierce it surprised him all flooded through him. "I'm very much so inclined," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He tilted her head back. "In fact," he whispered against her ear, his lips sending shivers down her spine, "I've been hoping you might say yes."
A choked laugh escaped Gabrielle's lips. Leaning into his touch, she ran her fingers down his strong arms. "Well then," she began, a playful glint returning to her eyes, "I thought we could get married here, with friends and family. A proper celebration, wouldn't you say?"
Buck chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "Perfect," he agreed. His gaze drifted down to the tickets clutched in his hand. "Those tickets are for next month, though, Brie."
A sly smile played on her lips. "Well, you aren't getting any younger, you know," she teased, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. She closed her eyes, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "Besides," she continued, her voice muffled against his skin, "when we get back, we can decide what comes next. Together."
Buck wrapped his arms around her tightly, the world around them fading away. "Together," he echoed, the word a promise, a vow, and a future filled with possibilities stretching before them. He held her close, savoring the warmth of her presence, the knowledge that she was his, finally his.
Chapter 64
Butte Meadows, Nebraska - 1875
Gabrielle sat at the mirror and carefully clipped the pearl earring to her earlobe. Somewhat still in disbelief she starred at her reflection, lost in her thoughts. Each meticulous brushstroke of Violette's comb sent a flurry of nervous anticipation through her.
A strand of hair escaped Violette's attention, curling playfully across Gabrielle's forehead. "Hold still, you fidget," Violette teased.
"Sorry, Vee," Gabrielle mumbled, catching her sister's worried gaze in the mirror.
"You look really pretty," Violette finally offered, her voice soft.
"Thanks," A grateful smile tugged at Gabrielle's lips. But the worry lines remained etched on Violette's brow. Taking a deep breath, Gabrielle met her sister's eyes directly. "What is it, Vee?"
Violette hesitated, then sighed. "It's just... this is all happening so fast, isn't it?"
"It is, I suppose, but in truth, I've been in love with him for more than six or so months now."
"Why didn't you tell me you had feelings for him?" Violette asked her voice barely above a whisper.
"There were a few reasons," Gabrielle raised an eyebrow at her. "I've felt like we haven't been as close since I moved here. I wasn't sure how you'd react to us being together, but mostly, I just wasn't ready to commit to him. I wasn't ready to make it real, so I couldn't talk about it."
"But you are ready now?"
"I am." She smiled and hugged her sister.
"You're not even wearing a real wedding dress." Violette ran her fingers over the ribbons tied around her sister's blue silk dress. "Don't you want a big wedding, flowers everywhere in a large church?"
"I used to dream of a grand wedding," Gabrielle confessed, her voice a mere whisper. She closed her eyes, picturing visions of billowing white gowns and towering cakes. "But I never really thought I would ever find a man like Buck." A choked laugh escaped her lips. "He's... he's far better than anything I could have dreamed up."
"I feel that way about Jeremiah." Violette squeezed her sister's hand tightly.
"When we get back from our honeymoon," she began, a playful glint in her eyes. "We'll talk about this courtship."
A sudden knock on the door startled them both. "Ladies," boomed Kid's voice, a touch gruff but laced with warmth. "Everyone's ready out here."
Gabrielle took a deep, steadying breath, the nervous flutters in her stomach intensifying. Standing up, she smoothed down the folds of her dress. As the first chords of the organ music drifted in from outside, Gabrielle linked arms with Violette. Together, they walked down the short aisle of the small wooden church, the scent of wildflowers filling the air.
There, at the altar, stood Buck. A nervous smile flickered across his face, mirroring her own anxieties. But as their eyes met, a wave of pure joy washed over him, chasing away any lingering doubts. He reached out, his hand calloused yet gentle.
Gabrielle's hand trembled slightly as she grasped his. The touch sent a spark of electricity racing through her, grounding her in the present moment. In that instant, surrounded by loved ones an overwhelming feeling of peace washed over her. This was exactly where she was meant to be.
Epilogue
Nice, France - 1875
The morning sun gently kissed Gabrielle's bare skin, waking her from a peaceful sleep. She opened her eyes to the sight of sunlight streaming through the open windows, casting a warm glow on the rumpled white sheets. Buck, already awake and standing at the window, was a strong, naked silhouette against the sun-drenched landscape.
A content smile crept onto Gabrielle's face. She loved watching him stretch, his muscles moving smoothly, and how he seemed lost in the vast expanse of the sea. It always left her a little breathless.
"What a view," she finally murmured, her voice still husky with sleep. Pulling the sheet around herself, the thin cotton barely concealing her enticing curves, she couldn't help but admire the gorgeous scenery.
Buck turned, a slow smile gracing his face as he moved towards the bed. The sunlight caught the desire glinting in his eyes.
"You are full of surprises, Mrs. Cross," he said, his deep voice rumbling. Leaning down close to her ear, he whispered, "The first time I met you in my office - all business and prim and proper..."
Gabrielle let out a playful snort. "And now?" she countered with amusement, running her fingers down his chest and sending sparks flying.
"Now," Buck chuckled with desire, "you leave me breathless, wrapped in nothing but a sheet."
Amused by his words, Gabrielle teased back with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "What are you implying, sir?"
He rolled over on top of her with gentle possession. "You are a contradiction, Brie," he murmured as he trailed kisses down her neck.
Gabrielle breathed out softly in satisfaction as she enveloped Buck in her arms, cherishing their closeness. "Mhmm," she breathed, her nerves dancing at his touch.
"I could get used to this," he confessed, his hand tracing a slow path down her side and causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. "The future is ours to create," he replied huskily, pulling back slightly to search her gaze.
"What do you want, Buck?" Gabrielle met his gaze.
"You," he said simply before rolling over on his back and cradling her in his arms.
"You already have me," she whispered with conviction, snuggling closer and resting her hand possessively on his chest.
"I wouldn't mind a couple of kids running around the house," Buck mused.
A wide grin spread across Gabrielle's face. "I think we can work on that."
"What about you?" He asked, gently tracing circles on her bare arm with his thumb.
"Well," she began thoughtfully, "I'd like to live close to Violette. And since I adore your friends, the McClouds, I was thinking..." She paused with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "We could build a house on the bluffs on the north side of town."
Buck's eyes lit up. "Sounds perfect," he agreed, pulling her closer. "But for now," he continued with a husky murmur, "we can discuss expanding our family right here."
Gabrielle's playful smile returned as she reached out and trailed her fingers down his back, sending shivers through him. "Perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad idea, Mr. Cross."
Chuckling deeply, Buck leaned down and brushed his lips against hers in a slow and teasing kiss. The ocean breeze wafted through the room, carrying the scent of salt and sun-warmed sand as they gave into their growing desire.
Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a golden glow on their entwined figures. The promise of their future, filled with laughter, love, and the pitter-patter of tiny feet, hung heavy in the warm, summer breeze.
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Afterword
Buck Cross and other characters from the TV show The Young Riders belong to the copyright holders of The Young Riders. (1989-1992)
No infringements of copyright by any rights-holder to The Young Riders is intended or implied.
The author receives NO monetary benefit from the electronic or physical distribution of this work.
ALL original characters created by the author, as well as plot and book art, are copyrighted by the author.
Please do not distribute these works without permission from the author.
About the Author
Holly, a 2nd generation California Native, relocated to the Midwest after the 2018 Camp Fire devastated her hometown. She brought along with her unwavering love of her home state, her loyal companion Cass, better known as Cass the Stinky Chicken.
In the 90's she became a devoted fan of 'The Young Riders' series. Inspired by the characters and the time period, she crafts tales set in the Wild West, often featuring the beloved character, Buck Cross.
In addition to her historical interests, Holly is a recognized fashion designer and custom doll artist under the brand D.A. Fashion.
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