Frenzied Hearts
By: H Forbes
Closed Door Romance
There is a heavy romance theme, and kissing, but anything past that is completely fade to black. Intimacy is behind closed doors.
Themes & Tropes
Law & Crime, Slow Burn, Wealth, Mean Girls, Hate that I Love you, Love Triangle, Marriage before Intimacy
Content Warnings
Violence/Blood/Gore, Murder, Child Abuse/Neglect, Mental Health, Miscarriage/Loss of a child, Infidelity, Substance Abuse
10/2024 - Edited for typos and 2 missed chapters in publishing to FanFiction, New formatting
Part One - Almost Lover
Almost Lover
- Song excerpt –
by A Fine Frenzy (Alison Sudol)
Almost Lover by A Fine Frenzy (Alison Sudol)
We walked along a crowded street
You took my hand and danced with me, images
And when you left you kissed my lips
You told me you would never, never forget these images, no
Well, I'd never want to see you unhappy
I thought you'd want the same for me
Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
Should've known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do
Prologue
Shadow Valley – Texas 1868
The echoes of war still lingered in the air, though the guns had long fallen silent. It had been nearly three years since the last shots rang out, but for Teaspoon Hunter, the healing was slow, like a river inching its way across a parched land. As he rocked peacefully on the porch of his modest home in Shadow Valley, a small town nestled in the northern reaches of Texas, he found solace in the rhythm of the rocking chair and the gentle caress of the fading sunlight.
Memories danced in his mind, like ghosts from a distant past. He had left Rock Creek behind, its dusty streets and familiar faces fading into the horizon. Rachel had moved on with her new life in St. Joseph, and according to her last letter had recently married. Teaspoon couldn't help but wonder about Cody and Hickok. Sometimes, a snippet in the papers or a letter from Lou would bring news of their exploits.
The decision to settle in Shadow Valley had come gradually, like the turning of the seasons. Rock Creek held too many ghosts, too many memories of loss and heartbreak. Teaspoon was not a young man anymore, and the desire to plant roots, to find a place to call home. Here, in the quiet embrace of Shadow Valley, he hoped to find peace, to carve out a new chapter in the book of his life.
Teaspoon's steps slowed as he approached the corral, a sense of disbelief washing over him like a sudden gust of wind. There, standing amidst the wooden fence and dust-filled air, was Buck Cross. His eyes, once bright with youth and fire, now squinted against the relentless glare of the midday sun. Teaspoon scratched his belly absently, a gesture of old habit, as he took in the sight before him.
"Well I'll be damned," Teaspoon grinned and slowly stood up from the chair. "Never thought I'd see you in these parts." One of Teaspoons grey eyebrows arched up as he looked him over.
The older man sauntered closer, the dust from the dry dirt rising in soft clouds beneath his worn boots. There was a silent understanding between them, an unspoken acknowledgment of the scars they both carried, hidden beneath layers of stoicism and pride.
The change in Buck was startling. Gone was the boyish exuberance, replaced by a weariness that seemed to weigh heavily on his shoulders. Time had carved it's mark on Buck's face, lines that spoke of hardships endured and battles fought, both within and without.
Buck's gaze met Teaspoon's, a flicker of recognition dancing in the depths of his weary eyes. For a moment, time stood still, the past and present merging into a single, unbroken thread.
"I reckon life has a way of bringin' us back 'round," Buck murmured, his voice rough with emotion. And in that moment, Teaspoon knew that their paths had crossed for a reason.
"Well I'm sure glad to see you son." Teaspoon raised his eyes eyebrows.
"It's been a little while hasn't it?" Buck embraced the older man warmly and smiled.
"I hear tell you got yerself a nice horse ranch there in Kansas."
"That I do." Buck smiled proudly.
Teaspoon nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his weathered lips. There was a sense of pride in Buck's voice, a quiet determination that spoke volumes about the man he had become. As Buck gazed out over the expanse of land stretching beyond the creek.
"Thinking about putting down a ranch just over the other side of the creek."
"Sounds like a fine idea," Teaspoon's grin widened as he spoke, a twinkle of mischief dancing in his weathered eyes. "But I gotta warn ya son. You'll find one of your neighbors is a cantankerous old coot." Teaspoon grinned broadly.
Chapter 1
Shadow Valley – Texas 1870
The sun beat down on Kathleen as she dismounted her horse, a sense of urgency driving her movements. With practiced ease, she tied the reins to the wooden railing and glanced around, her eyes scanning the grounds for any sign of Buck.
"Hello?" she called out, her voice carrying across the stillness of the afternoon air.
The sound echoed faintly, the only response the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Frowning slightly, Kathleen tightened her grip on her satchel.
She moved swiftly, her footsteps echoing against the hard-packed earth as she searched for any trace of Buck. The ranch seemed deserted, the only sound the distant hum of insects and the occasional creak of the fence.
And then, as if conjured by her thoughts, she caught sight of movement near the edge of the corral. A figure emerged from the shadows, his silhouette familiar against the backdrop of the setting sun. Reprieve flooded through Kathleen as she recognized Buck, his form bathed in the golden light of evening.
"Buck!" she called out, her voice tinged with relief. She quickened her pace, her heart pounding in her chest as she approached him. "I've been looking all over for you!"
Buck strolled out of the barn, his movements relaxed as he leaned against the railing in front of Kathleen.
"What brings you out here?" He greeted her with a warm smile, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.
"Guess what?" She replied, her tone tinged with excitement. "
"I give up," He asked, a grin playing at the corners of his lips as he reached out to embrace her.
"Remember I told you about my friend Grace?"
"A couple times," Buck chuckled, leaning in to steal a soft kiss. Just about every story Kathleen recounted from her childhood seemed to involve this ever-present Grace. He settled back with a smile, continuing his playful teasing. "You know," he drawled, "the more you mention Grace, the more curious I get about this mysterious childhood friend..."
"Well you are going to get the chance!" Kathleen exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement.
"Isn't she in California?" Buck smiled at the delight in Kathleen's eyes.
"Yes, but her family is from Spain. Her father is actually in line for the throne, or maybe it's her uncle," Kathleen mused, her gaze drifting off into the distance.
"Well, either way, I hope this house isn't too humble for her," Buck remarked, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words.
"Stop that, Buck Cross! Or I'll...I'll..." Kathleen trailed off, unable to find a suitable threat.
"What?" Buck grinned mischievously, moving closer to her and teasingly picking her up, twirling her around.
"Well, I just won't marry you!" Kathleen declared defiantly, though the twinkle in her eyes betrayed her playful tone.
"Well, that's a relief," Buck teased, setting her back down gently.
"Buck, you do want to marry me, don't you?" Kathleen pouted, her bottom lip jutting out in a mock pout.
"Of course, I do." Buck affirmed, his tone sincere as he reached out to touch her cheek.
"Tell me you love me." Kathleen demanded, a hint of vulnerability underlying her words.
"I love you," Buck whispered, leaning in to kiss her softly.
As she continued to chatter excitedly about the prospect of hiring a housekeeper, Buck's gaze drifted out across the sky, his thoughts wandering to the doubts that had begun to gnaw at him.
The closer their wedding day loomed on the horizon, the more uncertainty seeped into Buck's mind. He couldn't deny the attraction he felt towards Kathleen, nor could he ignore the genuine care and affection he held for her. And yet, there lingered a small part of his heart that hesitated to trust her completely.
He shook his head, as if trying to dispel the doubts that threatened to consume him. Memories flooded his mind, the first time he laid eyes on Kathleen Devlin in the grandstands, the way she had made his heart race with just a glance. But alongside those memories, there lingered the pain of the past, the way she had shattered his heart.
But that was years ago, Buck reminded himself. They were both so young, it was before Ike had died, before the war. Both he and Kathleen had changed since then. He was surprised to encounter her again, all those years later, their paths crossing unexpectedly in the bustling streets of Dallas. The reunion between Buck and Kathleen had been uncomfortable, to say the least. In that fleeting moment, Buck felt transported back to his younger, more uncertain self.
Over the next few months, Kathleen had shared with him the reasons behind her sudden reappearance in his life. She spoke of her father's passing, a loss that had left her untethered and alone. She explained how her father had been a formidable man, as he well recalled.
Kathleen confessed that she couldn't bear to see Buck hurt any further, and so she had made the painful decision to leave town, hoping to spare him the agony of their impossible relationship.
Despite Teaspoon's warnings and his own lingering uncertainties, Buck took their reunion as a sign, and he couldn't let Kathleen slip away again. And so, against the framework of their shared history and the weight of their past mistakes, he had asked her to marry him last month.
"What do you think?" Kathleen's big hazel eyes stared up at him.
"I'll think about it."
Chapter 2
Lubbock – Texas 1870
The following week dragged on for Buck, each day feeling longer than the last as Kathleen's excitement about her friend Grace reached fever pitch. It seemed like every conversation revolved around Grace and their upcoming visit. Kathleen couldn't seem to stop talking about her, regaling Buck with stories of their adventures in Paris during their school days.
According to Kathleen, she and Grace had crossed paths while studying abroad in the Paris. Despite the age difference – Grace being several years younger – Kathleen insisted that Grace possessed a level of maturity and sophistication befitting someone of royal lineage.
"When you're practically royalty, there's a certain level of maturity and sophistication that one has." Kathleen would say with a playful twinkle in her eye, a phrase that Buck couldn't help but find amusing.
As the days passed, Buck found himself chuckling to himself whenever Kathleen brought up Grace's name, the anticipation in her voice palpable. He couldn't deny the infectious excitement that radiated from Kathleen, nor could he shake the feeling of amusement at her exaggerated descriptions of Grace.
Despite his initial skepticism, Buck couldn't help but feel a flicker of curiosity about this friend of Kathleen's. After all, if she was anything like Kathleen described her to be, their visit promised to be an eventful and memorable affair.
"So tell me again why she ain't here waiting for her friend again?" Teaspoon sighed grumpily as he sat on the buckboard.
"I told you, Teaspoon. Kathleen is cleaning and decorating my house to impress her friend." Buck remarked, rolling his eyes with a hint of exasperation.
Teaspoon chuckled softly, shaking his head at Buck's antics. "Well, if this young lady were any kind of friend, she wouldn't care how your home is." he replied.
"You know that, and I know that, but Kathleen insisted. It's going to be her home also in a few months so why shouldn't she redecorate." Buck reasoned with a hint of resignation in his voice.
Teaspoon chuckled softly, shaking his head at Buck's predicament. "You sound like a cur dog that's been whipped." He remarked with a teasing glint in his eye.
"Or a man in love." Buck retorted with a smirk, his affection for Kathleen evident in his tone.
Teaspoon raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Mhmmm, more like a cur dog." He quipped, unable to resist poking fun at the younger man's predicament.
Buck shot Teaspoon a warning look. "Be nice to her friend." he cautioned, his voice laced with a hint of seriousness.
Teaspoon shrugged, a sly grin playing at the corners of his lips. "When am I not a gentleman when there is a lady around?"
"Kathleen," Buck reminded him pointedly.
"Like I said, when there is a lady around." Teaspoon's expression grew somber as he watched the passengers disembark from the stagecoach. Despite Kathleen's polite demeanor and earnest desire for Buck's affection, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him. "A leopard don't change its stripes, son." Teaspoon muttered under his breath, his tone tinged with caution.
"Spots." Buck corrected him with a grin. "Leopards have spots."
"That's what I said." Teaspoon replied, though his expression betrayed his amusement.
Buck chuckled softly, a sense of camaraderie settling between them as they watched the passengers disembark the train.
"What's this young lady look like?"
"Kathleen said she's petite and has long dark hair and green eyes." Buck wondered if he would recognize her from Kathleen's description.
"That must be her there." Teaspoon pointed to the tiny dark hair woman.
The men stood up and made their way over to the waiting area. She wasn't really what Buck had expected. She wore a black dress and her dark hair was pulled back tightly in a bun. Her large glasses took over most of her face, it was hard to tell what color eyes she had.
"Buck Cross." He extended his hand with a warm smile. "You must be Grace?"
"I beg your pardon?" The woman replied, peering over the top of her glasses at the two men, her expression one of polite confusion.
"I'm Kathleen's fiancé." Buck explained, a note of uncertainty creeping into his voice as he noticed the woman's puzzled reaction.
"Who?" She asked, her brow furrowing in confusion as she glanced at him.
"Kathleen Devlin?" Buck clarified, exchanging a curious glance with the woman.
"I believe I can clear this matter up," came a soft voice with a faint accent.
Buck turned to see a petite woman standing beside him, her presence commanding attention despite her diminutive stature. He couldn't help but feel a flutter of surprise at the sight of her, his mouth threatening to drop open as he struggled to maintain his composure.
"Ma'am?" Buck prompted, his voice betraying his astonishment.
"I'm Grace D'Agostino, and you must be Buck." She smiled brightly and offered her hand.
"Ah yeah, yes, I'm Buck, and this is Teaspoon." He shook her hand.
"Ma'am, it's a real pleasure to make your acquaintance.," Teaspoon greeted graciously, taking Grace's gloved hand and kissing it softly on the top.
"Likewise." She smiled graciously at both men then looked around in confusion. "Where's Kathleen?"
"She had some work that she had to finish up at the house. She just wanted to make sure everything was cleaned up for your visit, that's all," Buck explained, attempting to excuse his fiancée's absence.
"That's very kind, but completely unnecessary, I assure you." Grace replied with a slightly uncomfortable smile.
"These your bags?" Buck asked, gesturing to the luggage as Grace nodded in confirmation.
"Yes, thank you," she replied gratefully.
"How was the ride out here?" Buck inquired, as he began to gather her belongings.
"Pleasant enough. I never seem to grow weary of seeing new places, and this land is beautiful," Grace remarked appreciatively, taking Buck's hand as he helped her up onto the buckboard.
"We have a way to go before we get to Shadow Valley." Buck informed her, glancing over to ensure she was comfortable.
"Then you can tell me everything that Kathleen has left out about you and how the two of you met." Grace suggested with a playful twinkle in her eye.
Teaspoon rode ahead on horseback, giving them some privacy. The less he had to hear about Kathleen, the better.
"So, Kathleen told me you two used to be good friends a while ago," Grace remarked, grabbing onto Buck's arm with one hand and steadying herself with the other as the horses trudged through the thick mud.
"Sorry about that," Buck apologized, slowing down the pace of the horses to accommodate her.
"It's alright." Grace replied, still holding tightly to Buck's arm to prevent herself from bouncing off the wood bench.
"We knew each other many years ago," Buck responded, his tone pensive as he considered their past history. He didn't want to rehash any unpleasant memories.
"Are you from here?" Grace asked, studying him carefully.
Kathleen hadn't divulged much about Buck in her letters, other than that he was a rancher and they used to be friends. Grace couldn't help but be surprised at her friend's choice for a husband. He seemed like a departure from Kathleen's usual type. Buck was rugged and masculine, qualities that differed from the softer and more refined men Kathleen had been attracted to when they were younger.
Grace found herself captivated by Buck's presence as she watched the muscles in his well-toned arms flexing as he snapped the reins. His long, dark hair fluttered in the warm wind, occasionally whipping across his bronzed face. She chastised herself for allowing her gaze to linger on him for too long, though she couldn't deny that he was very handsome.
"I've moved around a lot, I guess you could say. Thought it was time I settled down. What's it like in California?" Buck's question broke through the silence.
"It's the most beautiful land I've ever seen. My father's home is near the ocean. It's my favorite thing in the world to sit at the cliffs and watch the sunset." Grace replied, nodding as she redirected her attention to the passing scenery, determined not to be distracted by the virile man at her side.
"Sounds beautiful." Buck agreed with a wistful smile.
"Have you ever been to the ocean?" Grace inquired.
"No." Buck replied simply.
"You and Kathleen should come out and visit sometime," Grace suggested warmly, her tone inviting. "You both would be welcome."
"Kathleen tells me that the two of you met in school. She has fond memories of your adventures in Paris."
Grace proceeded to regale him with stories of their school days in France, recounting how Kathleen was always up to something that inevitably got them both in to trouble. She explained the peculiar dynamics of her family, detailing how her mother staunchly refused to move to California and insisted on living in England. Grace's father's business ties were in California, so she spent a considerable amount of time shuttling between both of her parents' homes.
"Are they divorced?" Buck inquired gently, sensing the delicate nature of the topic.
"No, that's not something my mother believes in either. So my father lives in California and my mother in London." Grace explained with a soft laugh.
"Sounds complicated." Buck remarked, his brow furrowing slightly.
"I think she prefers it that way. She has no one to answer to. I don't think my mother was meant to be a wife, or a mother for that matter."
"You sound like you aren't close to her," Buck observed.
"Not particularly. I'm much closer to my father. I visit her only rarely now," Grace admitted, her expression tinged with a touch of sadness.
"So is it your mother or father that is royalty?" Buck inquired, remembering Kathleen's earlier mention of Grace's royal connections.
"Pardon me?" Grace asked, clearly taken aback by the question.
"Kathleen made mention that you, or your family had," Buck explained, a scowl forming on his face. A quick glance at the confusion on her face let him know she had no idea what he was talking about.
"Same Kathleen, I see. Sometimes the things that woman comes up with," Grace chuckled, shaking her head as tears of laughter welled up in her eyes.
Buck joined in her laughter, though he couldn't help but wonder why Kathleen felt the need to fabricate such a trivial detail."You're not at all what I expected," Buck admitted, his tone sincere.
"I hope that's not a disappointment," Grace replied, leaning closer as they hit another bump in the road.
"Not at all," Buck assured her with a smile, feeling a sense of warmth and ease settling over him in Grace's presence.
He tried to concentrate on the road ahead so he could avoid any more pits in the road. He did not want to be stranded on the side of the road. Though, he couldn't pick better company that was for sure and he didn't mind her soft grip on his arm either. He glanced over at her, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. She was breathtakingly beautiful.
She had long dark hair, and green eyes as Kathleen said. But in as the sun set her hair picked up the light and strands of auburn and copper blew through the breeze as they rode. Her eyes weren't just green either. They were the color of moss when it grew on the shaded side of an oak.
"What is it?" She caught him looking over at her.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to, it's noticed your necklace." Buck quickly looked ahead at the road.
It was like Kathleen's, that burned sadness still lingering in his soul, a constant reminder of a time he desperately wanted to forget. He remembered how he had convinced Kathleen to put hers away, to tuck it out of sight because it brought back painful memories.
"Oh, Kathleen and I bought these on holiday." She looked up at the sky as she struggled to remember. "I can't remember where we were, possibly Vienna? It was so long ago."
"I know," He felt his jaw clench. "She has hers still as well."
"I apologize, if it offends you." She took notice of his change of demeanor.
"Of course not, it was just surprising. That's all." He smiled genuinely. "Kathleen said your family was from Spain?"
"Does she?" She laughed and shook her head.
Buck couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt creeping into his mind as he listened to Grace's stories. Kathleen's tales seemed to contain some rather significant discrepancies, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he might have picked up the wrong person.
"My father's family is from Italy and my mother's family is from England."
"You're green eyes?"
"Are from my mother's side, as well as my determination. Or as my father calls it, my stubbornness. What about you? Where is your family from?"
"I don't know anything about my father or his family. My mother was Kiowa. That's an Indian." He explained.
"Yes, I know who the Kiowa are." She looked over and nipped her lower lip. "You're not the first Indian I've seen before you know."
"Books don't count." He teased.
"Very funny." She rolled her eyes. "We have many Indians in California you realize."
The pair chatted easily for the next hour as they made their way towards town. Buck explained that he lived just outside the town, while Kathleen resided within its confines.
By the time they reached the edge of town, it was already five in the afternoon. Buck pointed towards a grove of trees nestled in the center of the valley, indicating that's where they were headed.
Grace couldn't help but imagine it would have been a much easier ride on horseback, perhaps only taking thirty-five minutes, but on the buckboard, it felt like another hour, she was certain. She shifted uncomfortably on the hard bench, feeling the strain of sitting in the same position for so long. Finally, they rounded the bend. Bringing the horses to a stop, Buck helped Grace down from the buckboard. Her legs felt stiff and unsteady after the long journey, and Buck provided a steadying hand until she found her footing once more.
"Grace!" Kathleen exclaimed, jumping up from the porch and rushing to embrace her old friend, enveloping her in a tight hug.
"You look exactly the same, if not prettier than last I saw you." Grace remarked, planting a kiss on Kathleen's cheek.
"Come in! You must be starving," Kathleen insisted, gesturing towards the house.
"Teaspoon and I are just going to take care of the horses. We'll be a few minutes," Buck announced, stepping away from the porch.
"Alright!" Kathleen replied, grasping Grace's hand and leading her towards the house.
The house tour finally reached its grand finale - the cozy living room with its crackling fireplace. Kathleen gestured with a flourish.
"And this is our haven! Perfect for curling up with a good book." She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. "Goodness, it's getting late! How about some dinner before we head to my place for the evening?"
Grace smiled warmly. "That sounds lovely, Kathleen. Thank you for the tour."
"I know it's not grand but it's perfect."
"Your home is charming." Grace smiled and followed into the kitchen.
Dinner was a lively affair, filled with stories and shared jokes. As the plates were cleared, Teaspoon rose with a polite nod.
"Well," he announced, rising from the table. "Duty calls. I wouldn't want to miss my nightly patrol for rogue squirrels."
Kathleen and Grace exchanged amused glances.
"Thanks for keeping the neighborhood safe, Teaspoon." Grace said with a playful grin.
Teaspoon chuckled. "Anytime, ma'am. Enjoy your evening, ladies." With a wink, he gathered his things and headed out the door.
"I'll get the buckboard ready." Buck rose from the table.
"I'll take care of the dishes and we'll be right out." Kathleen's voice dripped with too much sweetness as she reached across the table. Her hand lingered on Buck's for a beat longer than necessary, a pointed display for Grace's benefit.
The awkwardness was thick in the air. Buck felt a prickle of irritation crawl up his neck. He wasn't a showpiece, and Kathleen's overly affectionate gesture felt like a performance. He met her gaze, a flicker of annoyance warring with a forced smile. The kiss they shared was brief, more of a peck on the cheek than a real kiss. Grace sat stiffly across from them, her eyes fixed on her lap.
Chapter 3
Shadow Valley – Texas 1870
The buckboard rattled pleasantly as Buck navigated the dusty track towards town. Kathleen and Grace, perched on the worn leather seats, bounced along, their laughter carried away by the warm evening breeze. The tour of the house had been a success, filled with Kathleen's enthusiastic explanations and Buck's playful teasing.
As the houses at the edge of town began to appear, Buck steered the buckboard towards Kathleen's charming cottage. Asters bloomed vibrantly by the front porch, adding a splash of color to the twilight scene.
"Well, ladies," Buck announced, pulling the buckboard to a stop, "here we are."
"Thank you for your hospitality." Grace accepted his hand as she carefully climbed down from the wagon.
Buck shouldered the luggage with ease. "My pleasure, Grace. Now, let's get these bags inside before the mosquitos decide to join the party."
He followed the women up the porch steps, carrying the luggage through the welcoming doorway. After a warm farewell, Buck took his leave, the buckboard disappearing into the gathering dusk.
Despite his initial dread of Kathleen's friend's visit, Buck found himself pleasantly surprised by Grace's demeanor. She was well-mannered and refined, as he expected given her upbringing. However, she also displayed a genuine down-to-earth quality and humility that endeared her to him.
Grace was clearly well-educated, but it was evident that her knowledge extended beyond mere book learning. Perhaps it was a result of her travels and exposure to different cultures.
As Buck walked into his quiet home he couldn't help but reflect on how their impending marriage would change the dynamic of the household. While he appreciated the solitude at times, he also recognized the potential for companionship and warmth that Kathleen would bring into his life. It was a prospect that both excited and unnerved him, but deep down, he knew that he wouldn't have it any other way.
Chapter 4
Shadow Valley – Texas 1870
It had been three weeks since Grace first arrived at Shadow Valley, and Kathleen had wasted no time in showing her every dress in her closet and every piece of jewelry she owned. While Grace appreciated her friend's enthusiasm, she couldn't deny that Kathleen could be a little overbearing at times.
It was a bright and sunny Saturday, and Grace had informed Kathleen that she had a headache and would not be joining the women's quilting society that day. She had other plans that didn't involve gossiping about the townsfolk with the ladies. It was far too nice a day to be cooped up indoors quilting, that was for certain!
Grace tightened her boots and adjusted her skirt. Although she had considered taking Kathleen's horse, she ultimately decided that a walk would suffice. During their outing the day before, on the way to the ranch, she had noticed a large field of wildflowers just a short walk out of town. Packing a small satchel with some bread and a couple of apples, she set off towards the field, offering a polite smile to a group of women she passed as she left the edge of town. She hoped she would remember how to get there.
She walked for almost an hour until she finally reached the clearing, she had been seeking. A satisfied smile spread across her face as she took in the sight before her, and without hesitation, she began running through the field with unrestrained abandon. After several exhilarating minutes, she slowed to a leisurely stroll and retrieved an apple from her satchel, wandering beneath the canopy of oak trees that provided welcome shade.
As she savored the solitude of the moment, Grace found herself reflecting on her recent experiences. While she cherished the time spent with her old friend Kathleen, she couldn't shake the longing for moments of solitude to be alone with her thoughts. Lately, her mind had been preoccupied with one particular individual, and she couldn't help but feel conflicted about her feelings towards him.
She admonished herself for harboring such emotions. After all, she had plenty of suitors back home to choose from. So why did she feel this inexplicable pull towards Buck?
Taking a deep breath, Grace tried to rationalize her emotions, chalking them up to mere boredom. However, deep down, she knew that wasn't the case. There was something about Buck that stirred feelings within her that she couldn't quite comprehend, and she couldn't help but wonder what it all meant.
"Aren't you supposed to be quilting this morning?"
Grace jumped slightly as the deep voice cut through her thoughts, and she turned around quickly. Breathing a sigh of relief when she saw Buck dismount and drop his reins, letting his horse nibble at the cool grass.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he said with a warm smile.
"What are you doing out here?" Grace asked, collecting her composure.
"Just out for a ride. I saw you down here and thought I would ride over and say hello," Buck replied, settling himself on a low branch and leaning against the tree.
"Would you like an apple?" Grace offered him some bread and an apple.
"Thank you," he accepted graciously, taking a large bite and wiping away the juice as it dripped down his chin. "Kathleen said the both of you were quilting today."
"I told Kathleen I had a headache. I just wanted to enjoy being outdoors today." Grace admitted, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Promise you won't tell her,"
"Your secret is safe with me. Have you been down to the brook yet?" Buck nodded, he knew Kathleen's exuberance all too well.
"Is it nearby?"
"I'll take you over there. It's really beautiful," Buck suggested, mounting his horse and then reaching out for her hand. "I'll help you up."
Buck helped her onto his horse behind him, confident in her riding abilities from their recent excursion with Kathleen. Instructing her to hold on tight, he nudged his horse into a gallop, feeling her arms wrap tighter around him as they sped across the land. Grace peeked around his shoulders, exhilarated by the rush of the wind and the rhythmic pounding of the horse's hooves beneath them.
Usually, Grace didn't enjoy riding double with most people, as she often doubted their riding abilities. However, with Buck, she felt completely at ease. He rode with skill and confidence, surpassing most. Perhaps he even rode better than her father, who had taught her how to ride as a child.
When Buck slowed the horse down to a slow canter, Grace relaxed, resting her head on his back and closing her eyes. She chastised herself realizing she was taking advantage of the situation, holding him a little tighter and leaning a little closer than was necessary.
Eventually, they reached their destination, and Buck dismounted before helping Grace down as well. He held onto her hand as they made their way across the slippery rocks to the other side of the creek, finding a comfortable spot in the shade to rest.
Grace lazily dangled her feet in the calm running stream, relishing the sensation of water splashing against her legs. The sun, warm but not scorching, cast a gentle glow over the meadow. Sitting on the bank of the stream in the cool shade, she couldn't imagine a more perfect day. Conversation flowed easily between her and Buck as they shared stories of their youth and hopes for the future.
Growing up the way she did, Grace wasn't accustomed to feeling jealous or wanting something she couldn't have—until now. She had to admit, this was the first time she had truly felt the bitter taste of jealousy, and she didn't like it.
Though Grace had insisted on walking back to town, Buck wouldn't be deterred and insisted on taking her himself. It was already dusk, and while part of him just wanted to ensure her safety, another part wasn't quite ready to say goodbye yet.
As they rode back to town, he slowed his horse down slightly, hoping she didn't notice. If she did, she didn't say anything. Buck sat behind her this time, and Grace leaned against him, her breathing rhythmic and soothing. By the time they reached Kathleen's house, the stars were just beginning to twinkle in the evening sky.
Kathleen sat in the parlor, her irritation simmering as she heard the sound of a horse approaching followed by voices outside. She was already fuming that Grace had been gone all day, leaving only a short note mentioning she was going for a walk. When she swung open the door and saw Buck with his arms around Grace, lifting her off the horse, the fire of insecurity boiled within her.
"Where have you been all day?" Kathleen demanded, hands on her hips as she stood on the porch.
"I left a note on the table that I was going out for a walk." Grace replied calmly, making her way up to the porch.
"All day? What were you doing together?" Kathleen's gaze flickered between Grace and Buck, her suspicion evident.
"Buck just saw me walking, and since it was getting late, he offered to take me to town." Grace explained, choosing her words carefully.
She knew Kathleen was suspicious, and although they hadn't done anything wrong, she decided to stick with a half-truth. After all, Buck had indeed spotted her walking earlier, and he had insisted on giving her a ride.
"It was lucky for me. I hadn't realized I had stayed out so long." Grace added, hoping to placate Kathleen's concerns.
Grace walked past Kathleen into the house, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her. If Buck wanted to disclose the whole truth to Kathleen, that was his prerogative. She lingered by the door for a few moments, listening intently until she heard Kathleen approaching. Buck had evidently corroborated her story, much to her relief. Grace couldn't help but smile. It seemed Buck had no desire for a protracted discussion either.
Quickly, Grace retreated to her bedroom before Kathleen could catch her. She waited in silence, her ears tuned to the sound of Kathleen's movements in the hallway. Reminding herself not to feel guilty for her thoughts, she smoothed her hair and composed herself before emerging from her room. As she made her way towards the washbasin, Kathleen intercepted her.
"What did you really do today?" Kathleen's tone was accusatory as she pinched her lips together.
"I went out to the field with all the wildflowers. I started feeling a little better this afternoon and just wanted to be outside. I would have waited for you if I thought you wanted to join me." Grace replied calmly.
"That's not what I'm asking." Kathleen insisted.
"Well, that's what I did today." Grace retorted, growing frustrated.
She pushed past Kathleen and headed into the kitchen, her emotions swirling with a mix of frustration and indignation. She knew exactly what Kathleen was insinuating, and it was insulting on one hand that she would assume the worst in her. Yet, on the other hand, if Kathleen were privy to the thoughts swirling in her head, and heart it would be a different story altogether.
"Are you using Buck to get back at me for Jon Luc?" Kathleen's grip tightened on Grace's arm as she held her against the wall.
"Who?" The word tumbled out of Grace's lips, laced with a flicker of surprise. Years had passed since she'd last thought about the boy, his name buried beneath layers of memory. But at Kathleens sudden mention, a forgotten corner of her mind jolted awake.
"Jon Luc. Don't pretend you don't know who I'm talking about!" Kathleen's voice was tinged with frustration.
"Kathleen, I was fourteen years old and barely had a crush on that boy. Don't you think I would have gotten over that by now?"
Grace almost laughed at the memory Kathleen was dredging up. She had been hurt for a few days at most when her friend started dating the boy, she had a crush on, but she was a child herself. She hadn't thought much about it since then, but obviously, Kathleen still carried some guilt with her.
"I'm sorry, Grace. I don't know what's come over me. I just saw you two together and assumed the worst!" Kathleen confessed, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Buck loves you." Grace reassured her, her words as much for herself as for Kathleen.
"I know. I'm sorry I doubted you, Grace." Kathleen replied, wiping tears from her face with the sleeve of her dress.
"It's alright." Grace said, offering Kathleen a comforting smile as she embraced her.
"I guess I still feel bad for 'stealing' Jon Luc from you when we were kids." Kathleen admitted.
"Kathleen, that was years ago, and you couldn't take what I didn't have." Grace reasoned. "It was a silly schoolgirl crush, that's all. Look, we've been friends for years. Why would I harbor such animosity over something so trivial?"
"I don't know, I'm just being senseless." Kathleen admitted ruefully.
"Well, I won't disagree with you on that. Now let's get some sleep. I was out in the sun all day and I'm exhausted," Grace suggested.
"Goodnight, Grace," Kathleen said, hugging her before retreating to her bedroom.
As Kathleen settled into her soft bed, she pondered Grace's words. Why would she want Buck anyway? She probably had several suitors to choose from back home, ones with more wealth and better breeding.
She did not.
She needed Buck.
As Kathleen drifted into a fitful sleep, her mind wrestled with the weight of her insecurities. Ever since her father's death, she had discovered the grim truth: he had squandered the family's wealth, leaving her destitute and at the mercy of her relatives. It hadn't taken her long to consider Buck as a potential solution. He was kind, handsome, and, most importantly, someone she believed she could win over again. Determined not to face a life of struggle and poverty.
Chapter 5
Shadow Valley – Texas 1870
Buck stacked the last piece of wood on the pile before carefully putting his ax away. He had been splitting logs for the past hour, attempting to keep his mind occupied with work and not let it wander where it shouldn't. Yet, despite his efforts, thoughts of her kept creeping into his mind. He hadn't seen much of Grace since their day at the creek. Apparently, she had been experiencing frequent headaches lately, which kept her from visiting the ranch.
He squinted against the sun and wiped the sweat from his forehead, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty. Was Grace avoiding him because she felt uncomfortable around him, or was Kathleen still upset with him? He couldn't shake the nagging feeling of unease as he pondered the situation.
Whatever her reasons were, Buck couldn't deny that it was probably for the best that she stay away. Being around her stirred up feelings in him that he couldn't quite explain. It was as if she consumed his thoughts, and he struggled to keep his desires in check whenever she was near. He couldn't afford to let himself be swept away by those emotions, not when he was about to marry Kathleen.
Chalking it up to pre-wedding jitters, Buck glanced up at the sun, estimating it to be a little after two. With a sigh, he made his way back to the house and cleaned up, preparing himself for the town dance later that evening. A few times a year the hotel would host a dance for the town, and Buck had managed to avoid it on most occasions. Despite his reluctance, he knew there was no escaping it this time.
Buck sat on Kathleen's porch, waiting as usual for her to finish getting ready. With a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair and glanced up, only to find Grace standing impatiently at the doorway. Her long, dark hair was elegantly pinned at the sides, cascading in full curls down her back. She wore a stunning deep green dress that accentuated her eyes, making them appear even brighter and greener than usual.
"She's almost ready." Grace fanned herself with her hand. "It's warm out today."
"Yeah." Buck looked down the street at the crowd of people filling into the hotel.
"Is something wrong?" She asked.
"No. It's just hot out here." He took a step towards the buckboard.
"I hope it cools off tonight."
"Everyone ready?" Kathleen's voice interrupted Buck's momentary captivation with Grace's appearance as she stepped out of the house, resplendent in a bright blue dress.
"You very pretty tonight." Buck took Kathleen's hand and headed towards the hotel.
Grace found herself continuously partnered for every dance, her status as the new lady in town and her striking beauty ensuring she was in high demand. However, after an hour of swirling around the dance floor, she excused herself from her current partner and sought refuge at one of the tables.
Glancing around the room, she realized Kathleen and Buck were nowhere to be seen. They must have slipped away for some private time together, Grace surmised. Since her arrival, they hadn't had much opportunity for privacy, and she couldn't begrudge them that. Despite Kathleen's invitation to stay and be her maid of honor at the wedding, Grace knew it was time to return home. Determinedly, she decided to check in Lubbock for the schedule of the next stagecoach bound for California.
"Feeling up to a dance?" Buck's voice interrupted Grace's thoughts, and she looked up to see him standing there with his hand outstretched to her.
"Thank you, but—" Grace began, but Buck gently took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. Despite her hesitation, she found herself drawn into the rhythm of the music, swaying gracefully in Buck's arms.
"Where's Kathleen?" Grace inquired, scanning the courtyard for her friend.
"She wasn't feeling too well, so I took her home." Buck explained, his hold on her tightening slightly.
"I should go. She might need something," Grace attempted to pull away, a sense of duty tugging at her.
"She didn't want to interrupt your evening. She's just going to sleep, and I'll check on her later." Buck reassured her, holding her firmly in place.
On one hand, Grace really didn't want to dance with him. She didn't want to have his arms around her, to be so close to him. His mere presence was intoxicating, and she struggled to ignore the sensation of his hair brushing against her cheek. No man had ever made her feel so out of control. The dance couldn't end soon enough. She found herself walking briskly back to Kathleen's house, Buck trailing behind her as she tried to put distance between them.
"Thank you." Grace managed to smile as she leaned her back against the front door.
"Why don't you and Kathleen come out to the ranch tomorrow?" Buck suggested.
"Good night." she replied hastily, opening the door and slipping inside before he could say anything else.
Leaning against the closed door, Grace took a shaky breath. She knew she had to leave town as soon as possible. She was falling in love with him, and she needed to leave before she completely lost her heart to him. A solitary tear rolled down her cheek as she felt her heart breaking at the thought of never seeing him again, but she knew it was the right thing to do.
Chapter 6
Shadow Valley – Texas 1870
Grace sighed as she folded the note neatly and left it on the kitchen table where Kathleen would surely find it. With a heavy heart, she headed into town, her mind preoccupied with conflicting emotions. She couldn't deny the growing feelings she had for Buck, but she also knew it was impractical and perhaps even foolish to entertain them. He was Kathleen's fiancé, after all, and she had no intention of causing any trouble.
As she walked along the boardwalk through town Grace tried to focus on the task at hand: purchasing her ticket back home. She made her way to the stagecoach office and approached the counter, where a weary-looking clerk greeted her.
"Good morning," Grace said politely, forcing a smile despite her inner turmoil. "I'd like to purchase a ticket for the stagecoach leaving tomorrow morning, please."
The clerk nodded and began to process the transaction, and Grace breathed a sigh of relief. At least that was one thing she could check off her list. She paid for the ticket and tucked it securely into her purse, feeling a sense of finality wash over her.
With the ticket in hand, Grace decided to take a leisurely stroll around town, trying to distract herself from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. She wandered past the quaint shops and cafes, exchanging pleasantries with familiar faces along the way. But no matter how hard she tried to focus on the present moment, her thoughts kept drifting back to Buck, and the tangled web of feelings that threatened to consume her.
Grace glanced at her watch, feeling a sense of urgency creeping in as she realized it was already noon. She had promised to meet Kathleen and Buck for lunch at Buck's house to see the new foal. Hurrying to Kathleen's, Grace's heart sank as she found both horses still in the stall. Buck had brought a horse for her to ride a few days earlier so she and Kathleen could venture out together. The absence of the other horse confirmed Grace's suspicion that Buck had likely picked Kathleen up already.
Swiftly saddling up a horse, Grace mounted and urged the animal into a brisk trot, hoping that Kathleen wouldn't be too upset that she was so late. It seemed she could get a little testy at smallest things and Grace did not want to set her off. She lightly tapped the horse to get her to go faster.
Grace felt the warm sun on her face as she rode through the meadow. For a moment, she was tempted to forget her plans to visit the ranch and simply ride until nightfall. Riding had always been a source of freedom for her, a time when she could escape from the worries and cares of everyday life.
Grace's mind wandered back to her midnight rides along the cliffs, the salty sea air enveloping her like a comforting embrace. She closed her eyes for a moment, imagining the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks and the scent of the ocean mingling with the cool night air. But here, in this unfamiliar land, surrounded by fields and forests, it was different. The air had a sweet, grassy fragrance, pleasant but lacking the familiar tang of the sea.
The ranch looked suspiciously quiet. Grace slid off her horse and looped the reigns over the fence. Disappointed by the absence of an answer at the door, Grace decided to explore the area further. She wandered towards the large barn adjacent to the house, her footsteps echoing softly against the hard-packed earth.
As she approached, she could hear the distant sounds of horses nickering and the rustle of hay. Perhaps Kathleen and Buck were tending to the animals inside. With a sense of curiosity and anticipation, Grace pushed open the barn door and stepped inside.
"Hello? Anyone here?" Grace called out, her voice echoing lightly through the barn.
"Yeah, I'm in here." Buck replied from inside.
He had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of the ladies, hungry and excited to show them the new addition to the ranch.
When Grace approached the stall, her eyes lit up as she spotted the mare and her foal.
"Oh my goodness, she is so precious!" Grace exclaimed.
Buck smiled warmly as Grace leaned over the stall, her hand extended to greet the mare and her foal.
"She's doing real good too," he remarked proudly.
With a gentle touch, Grace stroked the mare's muzzle before turning her attention to the foal. "Did you name her yet?" She inquired.
Buck shook his head, kneeling down beside the foal. "Not yet."
"She's beautiful." Grace reached for his hands to stand up.
Feeling the pulsing energy as soon as their hands touched, Grace's heart skipped a beat. Instinctively, she wished she could draw her hand back, but not wanting to be rude, she casually took her hand back and brushed off her skirt, attempting to mask any discomfort.
"Is Kathleen already in the house?" Buck plucked a piece of straw out of her hair.
"I haven't seen her yet." Grace frowned. "I wasn't that late, you two could have waited until I got back."
"What do you mean?"
"Didn't you pick Kathleen up in town today?"
"No, you and she were coming out together."
"Well we were." She looked up at him curiously, wondering if he were playing a joke on her because she was late. "You didn't ride into town and pick her up?"
"No, I haven't left the ranch all day."
"Where is she then? I checked the house before I left, she was not home." Grace's brows furrowed with concern.
"Maybe she went to the store."
"You don't seem concerned."
"That's because I'm not." Buck laughed. "Maybe she got sidetracked, maybe she's buying a new dress. This ain't New York, I'm not concerned she's gotten mugged or something."
"No, I guess not." Grace's frown lessened. "I'm sure she'll be her any minute."
Buck closed the corral gate and walked with Grace towards the house.
"I could start lunch. Do you know what she was planning on making?"
"I have no idea, but you are more than welcome to take a look." He held the front door open for her, waiting until she entered before following her inside.
"Well, let's just see what you have in here." Grace busily began searching his cupboards, her fingers deftly sifting through jars and containers.
"So do you have a beau waiting in California for you?" Buck asked, a casual curiosity in his voice.
"A few interests I suppose." It wasn't a boastful statement, but made in sincerity. Though she wasn't particularly interested in any of the men that called on her, they expressed interest in her, and she promised her father she would consider them.
"You are very unusual." Buck saw the look on Grace's face and realized his words might have come out wrong. "I don't mean that in a rude way," he hurriedly clarified.
"What do you mean?" Grace continually scowled and stopped rummaging the cabinets, turning to face him with a furrowed brow.
"Well, most women your age, and as nice lookin' as you are, would be married or looking forward to their prospects," Buck explained, hoping to clear up any misunderstanding.
"You think I'm nice looking?" She looked up coyly at him, one of her eyebrows lifting.
"Grace, you know you're beautiful." He smirked and shook his head, knowing she was playing a game with him.
"They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder."
"So why is it you don't have a husband yet?" He cleared his throat changing the subject.
"I'm just twenty two, and it's too soon to settle down."
"Kathleen told me you were younger than her, I didn't realize you were that much younger."
"Eight years." She shrugged. "My brother was actually pursuing her, before we became friends."
"Your brother?" Buck's interest piqued.
"Armand, he's twenty eight now." She nodded. "Around your age."
"I'm thirty one." Buck answered her implied question.
"When you are that old, what are a few years?" She teased.
"You are a brat you know." He rolled his eyes at her.
"Sometimes."
Grace laughed as she began chopping the fresh vegetables and tossing them in a pot of water.
"Tell me about your brother."
"He's the best brother." She smiled and met his gaze before returning to warming pot of water and vegetables. "He's very handsome, a little too handsome for his own good."
"How long did he and Kathleen court?"
"I don't know if you could really call it courting. He liked her quite a bit, but Armand was very young then. Things didn't work out. Which I guess is good for you. Right?"
"Yeah." Buck smiled briefly and looked out the window.
"You know Buck, to be honest with you I was very much surprised in your match with Kathleen."
She noticed a flicker of emotion play across his face, though she couldn't read him well enough to know what it was.
"What do you mean?"
"Well you are a strange match don't you think?"
As she continued chopping the vegetables, she could sense his presence drawing nearer, catching glimpses of him out of the corner of her eye as he approached.
"How so?"
"Well, your upbringings are quite different." Grace remarked.
"Some people aren't as concerned with a person's upbringing as others." Buck interjected.
Grace spun around, nearly stumbling into him. She found herself utterly speechless. His anger was palpable, simmering just beneath the surface, yet she could also sense the hurt in his eyes, wounded by what he assumed she had implied.
"That's not what I meant at all, Buck." she insisted, attempting to quell the overpowering impulse to kiss him. He stood so near that she could lean in just slightly and feel the warmth of his lips against hers.
"What exactly did you mean then?" he demanded, his voice tinged with both frustration and vulnerability.
He was angry. Not solely because of what she said, he had grown accustomed to such remarks over the years, and they would likely persist for the rest of his life. His anger stemmed from what he felt for her, and the realization that she regarded him so poorly. She was not the person he had thought her to be, and he felt like a fool for believing otherwise.
"It's clear why she picked you. You're an incredible man, generous, kind, and quite handsome. Any woman would be lucky to have you."
As her mind screamed at her to stop, her lips kept moving, unable to cease. Grace struggled to steady her breathing, moistening her bottom lip before instinctively retreating. But as she stepped back, he closed the gap, advancing towards her.
"What I meant was, it's just surprising to see you with Kathleen. Not that it's a bad thing, of course. It's just unexpected, considering..."
Buck knew he was completely out of line but in that moment he couldn't care less. He had been thinking about her almost every second since they met. He drew her into his arms and paused a brief moment. His lips so close to hers he could feel her breath on his face. He could feel her heart thudding against his own chest. As her eyes closed in a sweet resignation, Buck sensed her drawing closer, her lips gently meeting his in a tender embrace.
He drew her closer, intensifying their kiss as he felt the urgency in her lips matching his own desire. Pressing her against the wall, he trailed kisses down her neck, softly nipping at her earlobe. His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her tightly against him.
"We can't —" Grace whispered breathlessly, though she made no move to pull away.
Her words merely echoed his own internal struggle, but he was unwilling to heed them, or his better judgment. Despite her insistence, her continued kisses conveyed a different message, one he was all too eager to receive. She tantalized him by teasingly pulling her head back, keeping her lips just out of reach.
Delirious with desire Buck griped her tightly to him and his other hand trailing up to her neck. His calloused fingers tangled in her hair as he drew her lips back to his. What started as soft and gentle kisses grew more demanding, his boldness increasing as he traced her collarbone and ventured lower, to the neckline of her dress. He felt her sharp intake of breath as his hand stilled.
At the sound of a horse approaching the both pulled away from each other like fire from water. Buck's breath came in ragged gasps, mirroring Grace's own erratic breathing. They stood in stunned silence, their gazes locked in disbelief, neither knowing what to say.
As Grace tended to the boiling pot of water on the stove, she tried to distract herself by focusing on the task at hand. Her eyes wandered over to the bread she had wrapped up a couple of days earlier, still neatly placed next to the icebox. Despite being a bachelor, Buck's orderly and tidy demeanor surprised her. She didn't often find herself in the homes of single gentlemen, but from what she had heard from the women who spoke of their messy husbands, Buck was an exception.
Grace couldn't shake off the pang of jealousy that crept into her heart upon hearing Kathleen's voice outside on the porch. What was she thinking? Her behavior was completely out of character, and Grace couldn't help but feel disappointed with herself. She turned her attention back to the soup she had started, grateful for the distraction it provided while Buck showed Kathleen the new foal. Stirring in bits of chopped meat, she let the soup simmer, trying to regain her composure.
Despite Kathleen's steady ramblings during the meal, Grace couldn't escape the awkwardness that lingered in the air. She stole a couple of glances at Buck, but whenever their eyes met, she quickly looked away, feeling a rush of discomfort.
Grace breathed a sigh of relief when Kathleen seemed oblivious to any tension between them. Determined to create some distance, Grace insisted on riding home alone after lunch. She needed time to think and to start packing before Kathleen had a chance to intervene. With determination, she took off riding through the expansive prairie. It didn't matter where she went. She just needed to ride. The wind whipped through her hair, and the warmth of the sun on her back provided some solace as she grappled with her thoughts.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't push the thoughts of him out of her mind. The memory of his touch lingered, haunting her as she rode through the fading daylight. As the sun began its descent in the sky, Grace turned her horse back towards town. She waited for Kathleen to return home, and when she did, Grace informed her that she would be leaving in the morning. Grace explained that while she was in town earlier, she had stopped by the mercantile, where the owner had received a telegram for her that morning.
Grace felt a pang of guilt as she fabricated a reason for her sudden departure, explaining that her father had urgently summoned her home. She knew it was a lie, but she couldn't bring herself to tell Kathleen the truth—that she was in love with her fiancé. That night, Grace tossed and turned, unable to banish thoughts of him from her mind. For a brief moment, she entertained the idea of riding out to his place and confessing her feelings, but exhaustion and the voice of reason prevailed. With a heavy heart, she resigned herself to keeping her emotions hidden and boarding the stagecoach the next day. Finally, as weariness overcame her, she drifted into an uneasy sleep.
Chapter 7
Shadow Valley – Texas 1870
Grace left Kathleen's house early in the morning, before her friend had even awoken. She figured it would be easier that way, sparing herself the pain of having to explain once again why she was leaving. She knew it would hurt Kathleen's feelings that she wouldn't be staying for her wedding, but Grace couldn't help it. Her own emotions were too tumultuous to bear the thought of witnessing her friend marrying the man she loved.
"You ain't leavin' so soon are you young lady?"
"I'm afraid so." Grace smiled as Teaspoon walked towards the stage coach stop. "I have to get back home."
"I'm guessing Kathleen isn't too happy you ain't staying for the wedding." He was fishing for information in a roundabout way.
"No, she's not." Her smile faded slightly.
"I hope there's no trouble at home."
"Would you do me a favor?" Grace changed the subject abruptly.
"There's a good chance I just might. But everything comes at a price." He said, leaning his cheek towards her and tapping it a couple of times.
"You old tease," Grace said, kissing his cheek, bristled with a couple days of beard growth. "I wrote this letter to Buck, and it's kind of personal. I'd prefer Kathleen not to see it."
"Love letter?" Teaspoon wiggled his eyebrows.
"Just a farewell letter," Grace clarified, her voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "But, you know how Kathleen can be a little over dramatic."
"I know exactly what she's capable of," Teaspoon replied, his tone shifting to one of solemnity.
"What do you mean?" Grace prodded, a knot of worry forming in her stomach. Surely Kathleen wasn't up to her old antics again.
"It's not my place," Teaspoon said, his smile masking an underlying concern.
Grace nodded, understanding the unspoken implications. Kathleen had a history of making situations more complicated than they needed to be.
"I know she can be a little difficult at times. I'm hopeful that she realizes how lucky she is to have Buck." Grace added, a touch of sadness evident in her voice as she fought to conceal the tears brimming in her eyes.
"When does the coach get here?" Teaspoon placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"In about an hour or so. I didn't want to miss it." Grace replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension.
"Well, my dear, I hope you have a wonderful trip." Teaspoon said, offering her a comforting smile.
"Thank you, Teaspoon." Grace said, mustering a weak smile in return.
Teaspoon smiled and tipped his hat at her before he mounted his horse and set off toward Buck's house. He wasn't about to let this one slip away without a fight. He needed to have a heart-to-heart with his young friend and try to convince him that he might be making a grave mistake. There was no mistaking the look in Grace's eyes. She was in love, and Teaspoon knew that look better than anyone.
Chapter 8
Shadow Valley – Texas 1870
Buck looked up from his work on the fence when he heard the familiar sound of Teaspoon's horse approaching. He waved in greeting, a warm smile spreading across his face. Teaspoon had been like a father to him for many years, and their bond had only strengthened over time.
Teaspoon couldn't help but feel a swell of pride as he observed Buck's confident demeanor. It was clear that Buck had come a long way from the shy and uncertain youth he once was. Over the years, Buck had undergone a remarkable transformation, evolving into a strong and courageous man. Teaspoon had witnessed this growth firsthand, and he couldn't help but admire the person Buck had become.
Though there were gaps in Buck's past that Teaspoon couldn't quite fill, such as the years he spent with the Kiowa during the war, it was evident that Buck had found a sense of peace and belonging within himself. Whatever experiences Buck had endured during his time with the Kiowa had evidently shaped him in profound ways, bringing him a sense of inner peace.
In recent years, he had dedicated himself to building his reputation as a horse breeder, pouring his passion and expertise into his work. His efforts had not gone unnoticed, and he was swiftly gaining recognition as a sought-after breeder in the region.
"It's about time you came out here. Come on in! Grace made some Lemonade yesterday and I still have some." Buck called out as he paused from pounding the stake into the ground, gesturing for Teaspoon to join him inside.
"Speaking of your pretty little friend. She asked me to give this to you." Teaspoon raised an eyebrow as he approached, holding out the letter Grace had entrusted to him.
"Why didn't she just ride over with you?"
"She's headed home." Teaspoon replied, his tone suggesting he knew more than he was letting on.
"She didn't say goodbye." Buck's heart sank at the revelation.
"I imagine that's what the letter is for, son." Teaspoon remarked gently.
Taking a moment to compose himself, Buck leaned against the railing and carefully opened the letter. As he read the contents, his emotions threatened to overwhelm him, and he turned away from Teaspoon to hide his reaction.
Dearest Buck,
Please forgive my sudden departure and the lack of a proper goodbye. I wouldn't have left without a word if I didn't believe it was absolutely necessary.
Surely my feelings for you are evident. I tried my best not to let my heart be swayed, but I fear I was unsuccessful. While I am not ashamed of my feelings for you, I understand that our circumstances do not allow for them to be pursued. I apologize for any distress my actions may have caused.
I will cherish the memories of our time together, and I cannot imagine a day passing without thoughts of your handsome face, your gentle touch, and our fleeting conversations. You have touched my heart in a way no other man has or will ever do. I hope you will remember me fondly.
Wishing you a future filled with happiness and fulfillment.
With love always,
Grace
Buck folded the letter and slipped it into his pocket, his thoughts swirling as he gazed across his land. He hadn't fully considered the weight of the situation he now found himself in.
Grace had entered his life with such unexpected swiftness, and his feelings for her had taken hold with a surprising intensity. Yet, in truth, they hardly knew each other beyond the surface. In contrast, his history with Kathleen spanned years, marked by both joys and heartbreak.
"Whatcha thinkin'?" Teaspoon's words broke the heavy silence that had settled between them.
"Nothing," Buck replied with a forced nonchalance.
"You would have to be blind not to see the way that girl feels about you." Teaspoon's piercing gaze didn't waver.
Buck shook his head, a sense of frustration creeping into his voice. "I'm engaged, Teaspoon." he stated firmly, though uncertainty lingered in his tone.
"You ain't married yet."
"Soon enough." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You better get her in your life, or out of your head for good." he warned, his words carrying the weight of wisdom.
Buck furrowed his brow and looked at the older man questioningly. "What do you mean?"
Teaspoon sighed heavily, his tone turning serious. "A woman like that will get under your skin. If you don't talk to her, end it or find out if there's something there, the thought of what may have been will eat you alive." he explained, his bushy eyebrows raised in emphasis.
Buck nodded slowly, the truth of Teaspoon's words sinking in. "I guess so." he conceded, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions.
"It will definitely ruin any chance you have at a marriage with Kathleen." Teaspoon added, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "If you hurry, you can catch the stage before it gets too far." He suggested, his voice carrying a sense of urgency.
With determination burning in his veins, Buck wasted no time. He swiftly saddled up his horse, his movements fueled by a sense of urgency. Once in the saddle, he urged his horse forward, riding like the wind towards town, with Teaspoon keeping up with every stride.
Chapter 9
Shadow Valley – Texas 1870
Luck was on Buck's side as he arrived just in time to see the stage coach pulling in. His heart raced as he scanned the area, searching for Grace. Spotting her among the passengers, he noticed a man handling one of her satchels. Determination surged within him as he spurred his horse forward, weaving through the crowd towards her. He needed to speak to her before she boarded that coach.
Buck's urgent call caught Grace off guard, and she turned to face him with surprise etched on her features. As he dismounted his horse and approached her, she couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions swirling within her.
"What are you doing here?" Grace asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she glanced towards the waiting stage coach.
"I read your letter," Buck replied, his breath still coming in short bursts from his rapid ride.
"I have to go," Grace insisted, her gaze flickering towards the stage coach once more.
"Just five minutes?" Buck pleaded, his eyes pleading with her to give him a chance.
Upon the driver's assuring nod, Buck seized Grace's hand and led her towards the nearby library. The silence of the small room enveloped them as they entered, the hushed atmosphere adding to the gravity of their conversation. Buck guided her towards the back, hidden behind a bookcase, where they could speak in private.
"Why didn't you come to say goodbye?" Buck whispered.
"You weren't meant to read that until I was gone." Grace protested softly, her voice tinged with frustration and vulnerability.
"I don't understand you." Buck admitted, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Are you blind or just stupid?"
"Grace." Buck attempted to calm her down, his voice gentle but firm.
"I'm in love with you!"
Grace's declaration rang out, louder than she intended, drawing the attention of an elderly woman nearby who shot them a disapproving glare.
Composing herself, Grace turned back to Buck, her eyes pleading with him to understand.
"I'm in love with a married man, or just about." She confessed, her voice trembling with emotion.
Before she could say another word, Buck leaned her against the bookcase and kissed her eagerly, his lips seeking solace in the midst of the chaos. Grace's tears mingled with the tender caress of his lips, and she felt her resolve waver as his embrace enveloped her.
"Do you love me?" She questioned between kisses, her heart pounding in her chest.
"You know I do." Buck murmured, his voice filled with sincerity and longing.
"And what of Kathleen?"
Her question hung heavily between them. Her breath paused while she waited, uncertainty and fear of what his answer might be.
As soon as Kathleen's name escaped her lips, Buck's heart sank. He knew he couldn't deny his feelings for Grace, but he also couldn't ignore his commitment to Kathleen.
"I need some time." Buck pleaded, his voice heavy with indecision.
"Time for what? Either you love me or her." Grace demanded, her eyes brimming with tears.
"It's not that simple." Buck replied, torn between his conflicting emotions.
"It shouldn't be a hard decision, Buck." Grace retorted, her voice trembling with hurt. With a determined spin, she headed towards the door, her resolve unwavering.
"Grace —" Buck called after her, desperation lacing his tone as he followed her out of the library.
"Do you think this is easy for me? Kathleen is one of my oldest friends. I didn't plan on falling in love with you!" Grace whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. "But it comes down to this though. You either love her or me."
"Grace, I love you more than I've ever loved anyone," Buck confessed, his voice cracking with emotion as he pulled her around to face him. "But things aren't that easy. I made a promise to Kathleen and —"
"I love you." Grace interrupted, her voice calm yet resolute. "But I won't be your mistress. I won't settle for anything less than all of you."
With a heavy heart, Grace turned away and opened the stagecoach door, her actions speaking volumes. Buck's plea to stay fell on deaf ears as Grace stepped onto the coach, her resolve unyielding.
"I don't have a choice." She whispered softly before leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.
As the coach pulled away, Grace turned from the window, her heart breaking with each passing moment. Alone with her thoughts, she let the tears flow freely, the pain of unrequited love piercing her soul like a knife.
She had never experienced such intense emotions before, and the agony of heartbreak was almost unbearable. Yet, amidst the pain, Grace found a glimmer of strength, knowing that she had stayed true to herself and refused to settle for anything less than she deserved.
Chapter 10
Santa Barbara – California 1870
It took less than an hour for Buck to make up his mind, but a couple of days to hire some people to tend to his animals. He didn't take a coach; he rode straight through to California. He didn't know exactly where she lived, but he would find her.
Teaspoon had witnessed the entire event at the stagecoach and convinced him he would be a fool to let that woman walk out of his life. He had mulled it over in his head the entire ride. He wanted closure, or no, he needed closure. Buck frowned at his thoughts. He couldn't control how his mind wandered to her every moment he had a few minutes of rest. Secretly, he didn't want to end it, and he knew it.
He was balancing a fine line between the two women; one wrong step and he'd lose it all. Going back to Kathleen or moving ahead to Grace. He knew how she felt about him, and he felt the same about her.
His heart raced as he rode up to a large gate, the name D'Agostino engraved above the archway. He had gotten directions in town, and the man had said it was a large house, but that didn't describe it well at all. Buck sat back and gawked at possibly the largest home he had ever seen. Enormous archways and decorative iron window bars were the first things he noticed, followed by richly colored tiles. He slowed his horse and waved to a man watering some rose bushes by the large fountain in the center of the plaza-like entrance.
"Sir, I'm looking for Grace D'Agostino."
"En la playa, sobre la dunas." The man replied in Spanish.
"Sir?"
"El océano." He pointed to the ocean realizing that the man didn't understand him.
Buck smiled and nodded in understanding. He then guided his horse across the rocky terrain towards the ocean. Within a few minutes, he spotted Grace's form walking along the winding pathway from her home towards the cliffs. Though the ocean appeared calm, the breeze was surprisingly chilly, causing Buck to feel the cool wind whip across his neck.
As Buck approached, he was just about to call out to her when another figure came into view behind her. His heart sank as he watched the two people embrace each other. He stood there in disappointment, feeling a surge of jealousy as he witnessed the man put his arms around her and hold her close. Buck must have stared at them for several minutes before finally turning to leave.
He chastised himself for traveling all the way to California over a mere kiss, but deep down, he knew it wasn't just a kiss. The harsh reality of jealousy washed over him, followed by the dreaded feeling of betrayal creeping into his heart.
As he rode, Buck couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal and frustration that gnawed at him. Grace had looked him straight in the eyes and lied not once, but twice. First, about loving him, and secondly, about not being serious about anyone. He felt like a fool for believing her, for letting his emotions override his rational thinking.
Had this been a game all along? The suspicion gnawed at Buck. Kathleen's exaggerated affections, the lingering touches – it all felt like a performance staged for Grace's benefit. But was Grace an unwitting audience member, or had she orchestrated this display to wound Kathleen? The flicker of jealousy he'd seen in both their eyes now seemed like a carefully choreographed act.
Buck felt used, a pawn in their unspoken rivalry. Anger bubbled within him, a hot counterpoint to the disappointment that settled deep in his gut. He'd grown fond of Kathleen, enjoyed the easy camaraderie they shared. Now, it all felt tainted by the manipulative games simmering beneath the surface.
Furious with himself and with the situation, Buck urged his horse to ride faster, as if trying to outrun the turmoil in his mind. The journey back to Shadow Valley felt endless, each mile stretching out before him like a taunting reminder of his folly. In the solitude of the ride, he had plenty of time to reflect on why he was marrying Kathleen, to reassure himself of the decision he had made.
PART TWO - Ashes & Wine
Ashes & Wine
- Song excerpt –
by A Fine Frenzy (Alison Sudol)
And I'm ill with the thought of your... kiss
Coffee-laced, intoxicating on her lips
Shut it out-
I've got no claim on you now
I'm not allowed -
To wear your freedom down... noo
Is there a chance a fragment of light
At the end of the tunnel a reason to fight
Is there a chance you may change your mind...
Or are we ashes and wine
And I'll tear... myself... away...
If that is what you need there is noth-thing left .to say
But-
Is there, a chance, a fragment of light at the end of the tunnel
A reason to fight
Is there ... a chance ... you may change your mind-
Or are we ashes and wine
Reduced to ashes and wine...
Or are we ashes-
Chapter 11
Santa Barbara – California 1872
Armand strode into his sister's room, brandishing a letter in the air. "The shrew sent you another letter," he remarked, his tone tinged with both amusement and curiosity.
Grace sighed softly, shooting him a reproachful glance. "I know you were raised not to talk about a lady like that, Armand."
He chuckled, unabashed. "Old habits die hard, my dear sister."
With a resigned shake of her head, Grace returned her attention to her painting, the brush poised delicately in her hand. She placed the letter from Kathleen on the nearby pedestal, her expression betraying a hint of reluctance to engage with its contents.
"They've been married over a year now, haven't they?" Armand tapped the letter as it lay next to Grace, slowly pushing it closer to her.
Grace confirmed with a subtle nod, her expression conveying a hint of discomfort. She didn't appreciate being teased like this, and her brother seemed to be toeing that line with practiced ease.
Armand leaned in, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Aren't you going to read the letter?"
Grace paused, considering his question for a moment before responding, "You seem very eager to know what the shrew has to say."
Armand chuckled, acknowledging her jest. "You are a tease, dear sister."
A faint smile graced Grace's lips before she returned her focus to her painting. "You may read the letter if you wish. I don't particularly care to hear how happy they are together right now." she remarked, her voice laced with a hint of resignation.
Armand nodded, reaching for the letter with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, knowing that its contents could either bring solace or stir up old wounds. Either way he was intrigued.
"Seeing the way you feel about him, I don't understand why you didn't just pursue him. It wouldn't be a hard choice between you and Kathleen." Armand remarked, his tone tinged with curiosity as he observed his sister.
"I felt guilty for feeling and acting the way I did." Grace replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of regret and self-awareness.
"Guilt in taking him from her or heartbreak knowing you can never have him?" Armand mused, tipping his hands back and forth as if weighing the options on a scale. "I think I would rather live with the guilt."
"Armand, I threw myself at him. Like a drunken saloon girl. I begged him to choose me. But I was only deceiving myself. I know now that he doesn't feel the same for me as I do him. After all, he is a man." Grace explained, a hint of resignation in her voice.
"What does that mean?" Armand inquired, his brow furrowing with confusion.
"How easy it is for men to play with an innocent woman's heart." Grace said, her smirk betraying a mix of bitterness and amusement.
"Oh, brother!" Armand sighed, rolling his eyes at his sister's melodramatic sentiment.
"I had half a mind to go out there again before the wedding, but it's too late now. What's done is done. I would only have made a fool of myself." Grace admitted, her tone tinged with a hint of regret.
"Grace, you are an exceptional woman. I'm not just saying that because I'm your brother, either. You are very accomplished, not to mention devastatingly gorgeous, but good looks do run in your family." Armand said, cupping her face in his hands with a warm smile.
"Of course." Grace replied with a laugh, her spirits lifting slightly at her brother's affectionate gesture.
Her brother, a self-proclaimed bachelor, was not lacking in female interest, that was for certain. Tall and lean, with jet-black hair and piercing green eyes, Armand was undeniably handsome, not to mention wealthy—very wealthy. This wealth might have been the main reason he was so protective of his heart, suspicious of most people's intentions.
Grace was pretty sure he never really got over Kathleen's betrayal, though she knew he wasn't heartbroken at all. It was his pride that was wounded. She loved her brother dearly, but his pride was his undoing.
"Hmm, sounds like your friend here needs your help." Armand commented, his eyes scanning the letter quickly.
"With what? Choosing a china pattern? Or the new wallpaper?" Grace quipped, rolling her eyes at her brother's jest.
"You should read this." He said, handing her the letter, his expression serious.
Concerned by the seriousness in his tone, Grace took the letter and skimmed through it quickly, her brows furrowing as she absorbed its contents.
Dearest Grace,
I beg you to please answer me. I have sent several letters and have not heard from you. Have you abandoned me? What have I done to deserve this dismissal? I need you. Please don't turn your back on me. Whatever I have done I promise I will make amends. Please do not forsake me in my hour of need!
Your most sincere friend,
Kathleen
Grace had received several recent letters from Kathleen, but she hadn't bothered to read them. Part of her assumed they were just casual correspondence, while another part, driven by lingering hurt, contributed to her indifference.
She dashed upstairs to her room and began rummaging through her dresser drawers, her hands shaking. Frantically, she searched through her until she found the stack tied with a red ribbon.
Promptly she plopped to the floor her voluminous skirts rustling as she hastily read through the letters. She was overwhelmed with guilt as she learned of Kathleen's struggles and desperate pleas for support.
Her expression darkened as she processed the contents of Kathleen's letters. She felt a pang of guilt for neglecting to read them sooner, realizing now the gravity of the situation her friend was facing.
"Grace, are you alright?" Armand's concerned voice interrupted her thoughts as he knocked on her door.
Without a word, Grace gestured for him to come in and handed him the stack of letters. "Read these." she said tersely.
Armand scanned through the letters, his brows furrowing in concern. "This is serious." He remarked, his tone grave.
"I have to leave immediately." Grace rambled as her brother continued to read. "I can't believe she was with child, then lost it. And now Buck is very ill, and she's with child again."
Armand's expression softened with understanding. "Well, he can't be that ill." he remarked, attempting to inject a bit of levity into the tense atmosphere. "If she's with child again."
"It's not funny, Armand." Grace shot him a reproachful look.
"I'm sorry." Realizing his mistake, Armand apologized. "I didn't mean it."
Grace returned her attention to packing, her movements frantic as she rummaged through her closet.
"Is this all really necessary? We both know that Kathleen is prone to exaggeration," Armand pointed out, concern etched on his features. "And I'm quite certain she has plenty of friends a lot closer to her than you are."
"I should be there for her." Grace replied, her voice firm as she hoisted her travel chest onto her bed and began unlatching it.
"You are too kind, sister." Armand remarked, admiration shining in his eyes.
"Please don't accuse me of being too kind. I assure you, it's for selfish reasons that I'm going as well." Grace insisted, her tone tinged with frustration.
Armand sighed, realizing that he wouldn't be able to dissuade her. "I don't want to see your heart broken again." he admitted, his voice laced with concern.
"I'll be just fine. Plus, I'm betting he's not quite as good looking as I remember him being." Grace smiled mischievously, attempting to lighten the mood.
Armand chuckled, shaking his head. "I can see I'm not going to change your mind, so I'll go make your travel arrangements."
"Thank you." Grace replied gratefully, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions as she continued to pack her belongings.
Chapter 12
Shadow Valley – Texas 1872
Grace eagerly looked out the window as the train began slowing down. She had sent a telegram to Kathleen, notifying her of the date and time of her arrival. With Kathleen confined to bed rest and Buck unwell, she wondered if anyone would be waiting for her at the train station. As the train came to a stop, Grace gathered her handbag and stepped down from the carriage, squinting against the bright sunshine.
She heard someone calling her name and turned to see Buck approaching. Her initial smile faltered as she took in his frail appearance. Despite knowing he had been unwell, seeing him in person shocked her. Grace slowly made her way towards him, smiling softly, but her expression turned to concern as she handed over her trunk. Buck's hair hung limp in a ponytail, his eyes sunken with dark circles, and he looked much thinner and older than she remembered.
"It's good to see you." He reached out and hugged her softly.
"It's good to see you as well."
"How was your trip?"
"Much quicker by train." She smiled. "And vastly more comfortable."
Grace took the seat next to Buck on the buckboard, preparing herself for the bumpy ride ahead. They rode in silence for a few miles before Buck finally spoke up.
"You haven't changed a bit." He remarked, snapping the reins.
Grace managed a smile, but quickly looked away, fighting back tears. Seeing Buck so frail was difficult for her to bear. When she had left, he had been vibrant and strong, and now he seemed a shadow of his former self. She wasn't prepared for this.
"What's making you ill?" She asked, still avoiding his gaze.
"Don't worry, I'm not contagious," Buck replied.
"What is it?" Grace finally looked up at him, her eyes filled with concern.
"Doc ain't sure." Buck admitted.
"How can he treat you if he doesn't know what's wrong?" Grace pressed.
"I've been getting a little better. A few months ago, I could barely get out of bed some days." Buck explained.
"How did this happen?" Grace quickly wiped away a tear with her gloved fingertip.
"I don't want to talk about this now, not with you." Buck said softly, slowing the horses to a stop.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I was just concerned." Grace replied, her tone colder than she intended.
"Grace, I just meant, I don't want to burden you with my problems. Part of me is glad you came, but part of me wishes you stayed home." Buck explained.
"Why?" Grace asked, puzzled.
"I'm glad you came to help Kathleen, she's not doing too well with this pregnancy. I don't want to lose another baby." Buck confessed.
"I can understand that, and I'll do my best to help her." Grace reassured him, placing her hand on his and giving it a small squeeze.
"I didn't want you to see me like this. I want you to remember me the way I was." Buck said, managing a lopsided smile.
"Remember you? You're not going anywhere. You're going to get better, Buck. You're going to be a father, and your son or daughter is going to need you." Grace insisted, her voice filled with determination.
"I missed you, Grace." Buck said, his smile light but genuine.
He had often regretted not riding out to confront her lies over the past year, thinking it might have brought him closure. But what was done was done. Despite the pain she had caused, he still loved her.
"I've thought about you and Kathleen as well." Grace replied, her smile genuine but her emotions guarded.
"So when are you getting married?" Buck noticed her sudden coolness.
"Perhaps someday, I must say I enjoy being independent."
Buck frowned slightly, sensing the lies behind her words. Why was she playing this game with him now? To what purpose did it serve?
"Since my father's passing, I haven't needed to encourage any suitors. In the past, for his sake, I had complied like a dutiful daughter."
"I'm sorry, I hadn't heard your father had passed." Buck said, offering his condolences in a few words that were unfamiliar to Grace.
"He did not recover from the fever. Thankfully, Armand and I were lucky."
"I didn't know you were ill. I'm sorry,"
"How did she lose the baby?" Grace's voice softened as she met his gaze.
"It was my fault. We had a fight. Doc said she must have been so upset."
"You were barely been married a year! What could you possibly have to argue about? You were newlyweds!" Grace remarked, surprised.
"Promise me these things I tell you will stay between us." Buck requested.
"You have my confidence." Grace assured him.
"Kathleen had several debts and didn't tell me until several months after we were married." Buck confessed.
"Her debts couldn't be that serious. You don't have need for money, do you?" Grace asked.
"It wasn't the debt. It was her lying to me that started the argument."
"I can understand that. Perhaps she was embarrassed." Grace suggested.
"I can't trust my wife." Buck admitted.
"I'm sure it will be alright," Grace tried to reassure him.
"Now, this sickness... I'm at a loss of what to do. I have hired help for the ranch, but I can barely take care of my pregnant wife. Thank you for coming, Grace." Buck said, gratitude evident in his tone.
"I'm happy to help." Grace replied, turning away to hide the difficulty she felt in seeing him again.
Chapter 13
Shadow Valley – Texas 1872
Grace appreciated Kathleen's efforts to familiarize her with the household, though she was secretly relieved when Kathleen retired upstairs for a nap. Her nonstop chatter had already started to grate on her nerves.
With Kathleen out of the way, Grace focused on preparing dinner. She shredded the chicken carefully and added it to the pot to simmer. Cooking was a task she hadn't tackled in a while, but she found herself enjoying the process, reminiscing about the times she had helped in the kitchen back home.
Grace's mother, never one to cook, had hired a local woman to handle all the cooking. However, Grace often found herself drawn to the kitchen, sitting at the table and assisting with tasks like chopping vegetables and learning how to mix flavors. As she reached for a silver box on the shelf and opened the lid, she inhaled its aroma before cautiously tasting a bit.
Kathleen had warned Grace not to touch Buck's spices, telling her they were some Indian spices and too hot for her taste. Grace frowned as the bitter flavor hit her tongue. It wasn't spicy, but rather bitter, she guessed it was an acquired taste. Nonetheless, she decided they wouldn't be going in the stewpot. If he wanted it spicy, he could add them to his bowl she smirked to herself.
Once the stew had simmered, Grace took a small bowl up to Kathleen and sat with her for an hour or so as she ate. Despite Kathleen's condition, she didn't look as bad off as Buck did. Grace wondered if his illness was compounded by his concern for his wife and child.
"I'm so tired of lying in this bed." Kathleen complained.
"It won't be for too much longer. Buck says you should be delivering in the next month." Grace reassured her.
"You will stay a little after that, right? Oh please say you will."
"With a new baby in the house, you couldn't ask me to leave." Grace comforted her.
"Why didn't you stay for the wedding? My feelings were hurt that you left." Kathleen persisted, her tone tinged with lingering disappointment.
"I told you I had obligations at home I needed to attend to." Grace replied, her voice gentle yet firm, not wanting to revisit the past.
"Like what?" Kathleen pressed.
"That was so long ago, Kathleen, I could hardly remember now." Grace deflected, avoiding delving into the details of her departure.
"Is it Buck?"
Kathleen's inquiry caught Grace off guard, prompting a furrowed brow in response. She had hoped that Kathleen remained unaware of their slight indiscretions, but she knew her old friend well enough to suspect otherwise.
"What?" Grace frowned, cautiously navigating the conversation's delicate terrain.
"Does he make you feel uncomfortable?" Kathleen persisted, her tone betraying a hint of curiosity.
"Of course not, he's a perfect gentleman." Grace replied, attempting to quell any suspicions.
"Well, I meant him being an Indian and all. It just makes some people nervous." Kathleen elaborated.
"I'm very worried about his health, though. He looks so very tired and ill." Grace attempted to change the subject.
"He's just worrying about me."
"You're a very lucky woman." Grace remarked, picking up her plate and signaling her intention to leave the room. "Most women could not boast of a better husband."
"You will find someone someday too, Grace." Kathleen offered sincerely.
"Rest now, Kathleen. I'll check back on you in a little while." Grace said softly, closing the door behind her and walking down the hallway, where she encountered Buck standing at the stairs. She couldn't shake the feeling that he must have overheard their entire conversation, or at least most of it.
"You're very kind to help out with Kathleen." Buck expressed his gratitude as Grace descended the stairs.
"I have dinner ready if you're hungry." Grace replied, a warm smile gracing her lips as she passed him on her way to the kitchen.
"I smelled it the moment I walked in. Even if I weren't hungry, I would eat some." Buck admitted appreciatively.
Grace served him a bowl and then herself, the clinking of utensils breaking the silence that hung between them. It wasn't an terribly uncomfortable silence, but it wasn't easy either. There were things left unsaid between them, and neither was willing to rehash the past.
"I'll put on twenty pounds if you keep cooking like this, Grace." Buck joked, attempting to lighten the mood.
"I'll make sure to keep that in mind." she replied with a soft chuckle, taking his bowl. "You could use a little meat on your bones."
"Thanks." Buck responded, a faint smile playing on his lips as he accepted her playful critique.
"Maybe you could ride up to one of the cities. A different doctor might be helpful."
"I've been feeling better, so we'll see."
Grace nodded in acknowledgment and busied herself with cleaning the kitchen, methodically putting away the dishes and leftover food. Despite the tension that lingered between them, she couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility and duty towards her old friend and her ailing husband.
As she wiped down the countertops, she silently hoped that her presence would bring some comfort and relief to their troubled household.
"Are you going to stay after the baby?"
"I planned on it, for a short while at least. Unless you don't want me to."
"Of course not, you are welcome to stay as long as you wish."
"I'm very tired. If you don't mind, I'm going to retire for the evening." Grace said, smiling as she walked back upstairs.
Chapter 14
Shadow Valley – Texas 1872
Grace lugged another load of laundry into the house and dumped it on her bed, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle in her bones. Daily menial tasks were not something she was accustomed to, and though she didn't complain, the constant chores left her drained. With one more basket still on the line, she let out a weary sigh and trudged down the stairs toward the clothesline.
The babbling of the creek offered a siren song to Grace's ears. As she approached the clear gurgling water that snaked past Buck's house, a yearning for a moment of solitude washed over her. Kathleen was napping, Buck was in town, and the farmhands were busy with there duties, leaving a blissful hush over the property.
Seizing the opportunity, Grace decided to steal a quick dip. Quickly she shed her dress and shoes, leaving only a thin chemise and pantalettes. Wading into the cool water, a gasp escaped her lips as it embraced her with a refreshing chill. For a few precious minutes, she floated aimlessly, letting the gentle current carry her worries downstream. A cloud drifted lazily overhead, mirroring her own state of relaxed detachment.
Then, a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision shattered the tranquility. Heart leaping into her throat, she spun around, her gaze landing on a tall figure silhouetted against the sun. Assuming it was Buck or one of his workers, she rose from the water, sending a cascade of droplets sparkling in the air.
But the figure that emerged from the sunlight sent a jolt of surprise through her. A rugged stranger, his face etched with travel lines, stood awkwardly a few paces away.
"Sorry to bother you, Ma'am." He mumbled, his eyes darting away as he registered her state of undress. A blush crept up Grace's neck, and she fumbled to clutch her damp chemise closer." I was just looking for Buck."
The unexpected encounter had robbed her of her usual composure. Scrambling to the bank, she pulled on her dress with a haste that left it clinging in damp folds.
"I'm sorry." She managed, her voice breathless. "Buck is in town. Is he expecting you?"
"No, I'm guessin' not." the stranger replied, tipping his hat in apology. "I'm real sorry for interrupting you like that."
Despite her initial shock, Grace recognized the need for courtesy. Squaring her shoulders, she forced a smile. "No bother, I'll take you to the house. Are you at all familiar with Mrs. Cross? She's ill, I'm afraid, but I'll let her know you are here."
"Thankfully, I don't know her well." He smirked, looking around the surroundings.
"Can I tell her who's calling?" Grace asked, scowling slightly.
"Who's calling?" The man replied with a hint of mischief.
"What's your name?" Grace tapped her foot impatiently on the porch.
"It's Hickok." He answered with a casual demeanor.
"Please come in, you can have a seat there." She gestured to a chair in the kitchen, her tone still wary. "Do you have a first name?"
"Of course I do." He replied, taking a seat and observing the stranger with curiosity.
Grace couldn't shake her skepticism. "Forgive me if I don't find this act of yours charming." She said, turning quickly and rustling her skirts as she went upstairs, leaving the man to sit with his thoughts.
Grace checked in on Kathleen, who was still sleeping peacefully. Deciding it would be prudent to keep an eye on their unexpected visitor, she changed out of her wet clothes and donned a fresh dress. Pinning her hair up neatly, she tucked a small pistol into her pocket for added security before descending the stairs once more.
The man glanced up as Grace descended the stairs gracefully. The woman he had encountered half-dressed and soaked to the bone was now cleaned up like a proper lady.
"It's Jimmy Hickok." He extended his hand.
"Grace D'Augustino." she shook his hand frigidly.
"Sorry to impose, Ma'am. If you'd like, I can come back later." he offered politely
"How do you know Mr. Cross?"
"Oh, Buck and me go way back. We used to ride together for the express. I just wanted to talk to Buck about his Indian friends."
"What about them?"
"I'm scouting for the Army. There's some talk about a Kiowa uprising."
"Hmmm, that sounds like Mr. Cross now," Grace said, peeking out the window, her hand still in her pocket resting on the pistol.
Chapter 15
Shadow Valley – Texas 1872
Jimmy Hickok had become a regular visitor at the Cross household in the following several weeks. As a former Army scout, he had seen his share of danger, narrowly escaping a Kiowa ambush. Initially wary due to their first meeting and his reputation, Grace's concerns were eased by Buck, who assured her that Jimmy's reputation was exaggerated.
With Kathleen's impending delivery looming, Grace found herself preoccupied with attending to her needs. Constantly fetching items and tending to Kathleen, she barely had a moment to spare. However, she couldn't help but notice Buck's improved health, which brought her much relief.
As Buck, Jimmy, and Teaspoon lumbered back towards the house, a genuine smile tugged at Grace's lips. Buck's easy camaraderie with the older men warmed her, a testament to his genuine nature. Teaspoon, in particular, held a special place in her regard. His weathered face crinkled with humor as he regaled Jimmy with a story, and Grace found herself captivated by his quiet wisdom.
Jimmy, however, remained an enigma. His guarded silence stood in stark contrast to Buck's openness. Yet, it was this very mystery that drew her in. Every now and then, she'd catch a glimpse of something deeper lurking in his eyes, a flicker of pain veiled by a stoic facade.
It took a while, a chance observation in the way the afternoon sunlight glinted off those eyes, for a realization to dawn on Grace. It was heartbreak. Not a raw, fresh wound, but a scar etched deep within him. It was a connection that transcended their limited conversations, a shared understanding of a sorrow quietly borne.
Grace opened the door with a soft creak and a warm smile. "Kathleen's resting." She explained in a soft voice. "But I made some coffee and cake. Would you like to come in?"
"We aren't staying this evening my dear but thank you for your hospitality." Teaspoon gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"Can I wrap some up for you then?"
"Oh my yes. You do spoil this old man."
Grace cut two large pieces and carefully wrapped them in paper then handed them to Jimmy and Teaspoon.
Jimmy's voice dropped to a near whisper as he leaned in slightly, ensuring only Grace could hear. "Heading out to the canyon tomorrow, if you aren't otherwise occupied. Care to join?"
"That's very kind of you, and I have been meaning to ride out there." She smiled kindly. "I really can't leave Kathleen alone right now though."
"Some other time." Jimmy nodded.
"Yes I would like that very much."
Once the two men rode off Grace handed Buck a slice of cake and a small cup of coffee. He ate at the table and she went back to the window seat and watched the wind blow through the leaves. Out of all her travels she had never been as homesick as she was at that moment.
"Sorry to bother you." Buck began, motioning to the seat next to her. "Could we talk for a moment?"
"What's on your mind?" Grace tucked her feet underneath her.
"I know you and Kathleen have gotten closer, and I don't want you to betray her trust in you, but you and I are also friends, right?"
"Of course." she affirmed.
"There's just been some talk." He sat down and ran a hand through his hair. "I've been hearing about Kathleen having an affair."
"You mean the woman that has been in bed since I got here? I'm certainly not sneaking any men up to her room if that's what you are asking."
"No," Buck chuckled, appreciating her directness even if the timing wasn't ideal. "I meant before you came here. Has she said anything?"
"She certainly would not confide such behavior to me, and you should not listen to idle gossip."
"When she has the baby and is feeling up to traveling, I'm going to take her to see my brother."
"Your brother?" Grace's curiosity piqued.
"Red Bear, he's a war chief."
"I see." She replied, masking any further questions with a smile.
"Grace, you have a way of not saying things that speak volumes."
"I'm sorry. I just don't know that I can see Kathleen running off into the wilderness to meet your family. Perhaps I'm wrong, and I apologize if you find my honesty too overbearing or offensive. But I must speak plainly."
"Please don't apologize for being honest and speaking your mind."
"Well, it's late." She yawned, signaling the end of the conversation.
"Grace." Buck called out as she reached the stairs. "When you were here, you know before—"
"Buck." She interrupted, flashing a rehearsed ladylike smile to cover her true feelings. "You had cold feet, it's certainly understandable."
"That's not —"
"And I was young, it was just happenstance. Nothing more." Grace maintained her composed facade, hiding her true emotions. "Goodnight, Buck."
Grace sat alone in her room, feeling a storm of conflicting emotions raging inside her. She wanted to scream, to unleash the pent-up anger and frustration that threatened to consume her. She didn't want to be kind to him. She wanted him to feel the same pain he had inflicted upon her. That had been her initial intention when she decided to visit Kathleen and Buck—to show him that she was better off without him, to boast about her independent happiness.
But now, as she grappled with her feelings, she realized that she didn't want to hurt him. Despite everything, she couldn't deny the palpable pain he was experiencing, both physically and emotionally. It tugged at her heartstrings, reminding her of the love she still had for him. As hard as she tried to push it out of her heart, she still yearned for him. She couldn't bring herself to add to his suffering, even if it meant suppressing her own desire for revenge.
Chapter 16
Shadow Valley – Texas 1872
It had been chaos the moment Kathleen had delivered a healthy baby boy. She was up and out of bed within days of delivering him and was already complaining about not having any new clothes to wear. Grace had appeased her by promising that she would take her to town to show off baby Isaac and get her some new clothes.
It was Buck's relapse that caused Grace the most concern. Nights were spent tending to him, wiping away sweat and offering what comfort she could, though her lack of medical knowledge left her feeling helpless.
Standing by Isaac's cradle, Grace gazed out of the window, gently rocking him to sleep in her arms. His innocent face stirred something deep within her—a longing for motherhood and a family of her own. As she traced his chubby cheek with her finger, she made a silent vow to pursue a worthy husband upon her return home.
The tranquility of the moment was shattered by the sound of a slamming door upstairs, followed by Kathleen and Buck's heated argument. Grace couldn't help but overhear their exchange, their voices carrying through the house. Kathleen's revelation about selling part of the ranch to settle her debts seemed to ignite Buck's anger, and Grace could hear the desperation in Kathleen's cries.
Fearing that the commotion might wake Isaac, Grace carefully laid him in his cradle and shut the door behind her. Quietly she slipped out of the house, seeking refuge by the creek. The gentle flow of water and the rustle of the wind through the trees provided a familiar comfort, reminiscent of the ocean and home. Humming softly to herself, she let the serene surroundings calm her troubled mind.
Grace observed as Buck stormed out of the house, the door reverberating with the force of his anger. She waited, her curiosity piqued, as he made his way to the barn, muttering under his breath all the while. Moments later, he emerged with his horse, securing a pack onto the saddle.
Intrigued by his sudden departure, Grace ventured over to where he was. She noticed the cursing ceased as she approached, though Buck remained focused on saddling his mount, stealing only a brief glance in her direction before returning to his task.
"Where are you going?"
"To see my brother."
"Have you been drinking?" Grace cautioned, smelled the heavy sent of whisky on his breath.
"Can't a man have a drink or two without getting a lecture?"
"What of Kathleen and Isaac? Are they going with you?"
"No." He scowled. "I'm getting sick again. If I don't go now, I may not see my brother again."
"Can't you wait a little while? Until the baby is a little older to leave them alone?"
"I have to leave before winter comes."
"What about Isaac?"
"He's not my son!" Buck yelled louder than he meant too. "Everyone can tell by just looking at him, he's not mine. She's played me for the fool I am."
"I know you and Kathleen haven't been getting along but —" Grace shook her head in disbelief.
"You know nothing of what's going on, Grace," he spat, her name laced with disdain. "You know nothing of real life, real relationships." Buck's words cut through the air like a blade, each syllable laden with frustration and bitterness.
"That's a cruel thing to say," Grace glared at him. She had never seen him in such a foul mood.
"I can't tell if it's a game you're playing or if you're really that naïve." Buck's voice dripped with frustration. He walked around to the side of the horse where Grace stood, gripping her hand tightly.
"You're a miserable drunk." Grace retorted, trying to free her hand from his grasp.
"Don't you know what torture it has been since you came back? Don't you know what you do to me every time you look up at me with those eyes of yours?" Buck's voice softened with longing.
"I have done nothing to perpetuate any—"
"I can't stop thinking about you." He interrupted, his words urgent. "Imagining kissing those lips again, touching your sweet face."
"Stop it!" Grace pleaded, her heart pounding against her chest as she struggled to break free from Buck's overpowering grip.
She could feel the desperation in his touch, the intensity of his longing, but she knew she couldn't give in to it. Yet, despite her protests, Buck's hold remained unyielding.
Suddenly, he leaned her back against the sturdy frame of the horse, his strong hands pressing firmly against her waist. His lips found hers with a forcefulness that took her breath away, his passion enveloping her.
Every rational fiber of her being screamed for escape, for release from this raging fire that burned her from within. But as Buck's lips continued to claim hers, his touch igniting a fire within her, she couldn't help but wonder if, deep down, if this wasn't love at all, but a part of her craved this forbidden connection.
Finally breaking loose, she slapped him hard across the face before retreating back into the house. As she slumped against the door, she could hear Buck riding off into the distance. It wasn't like him to drink so heavily. She had only ever seen him have half a glass of wine with dinner before.
Amidst Kathleen's cries upstairs, Grace breathed a sigh of relief that Isaac was still asleep. Buck must have discovered the truth about the baby not being his, she realized. The boy's golden curls and blue eyes bore no resemblance to Buck. In fact, he looked remarkably like one of the ranch workers.
Chapter 17
Shadow Valley – Texas 1872
The town bustled with activity as Grace made her way through the market, Isaac nestled in her arms. It was delivery day, and she relished the opportunity to pick out the freshest goods. With a contented smile, she browsed the array of soaps and perfumes, inhaling the delicate scents of lavender and rose.
These little luxuries brought a touch of comfort to her otherwise tumultuous life. Along with the toiletries, Grace also collected her new wool coat. She hadn't expected to stay so long and needed the warmth for the coming winter.
"Grace, how are you?" Jimmy's voice interrupted her thoughts, pulling her attention away from the coat.
"Mr. Hickok." Grace responded with a smile, adjusting Isaac in her arms. "I'm well, and yourself?"
"No complaints but one, Ma'am." Jimmy replied with a playful twinkle in his eye.
"And what is that?" Grace inquired, intrigued by his cryptic remark.
"I've asked you to call me Jimmy several times now." he reminded her, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
"Alright, Jimmy." Grace conceded with a chuckle, appreciating his lighthearted banter.
"Would you mind holding him for a moment so I can try on my coat?" Grace requested, handing Isaac over to Jimmy.
"Not at all." Jimmy replied, cradling the baby with ease as Grace slipped into her new wool coat.
"If you'll be wearing that this winter, I'll pray it snows tonight." he remarked with a grin.
"You're very kind, Jimmy." Grace responded, smoothing down the front of her coat with satisfaction.
After paying for her purchases, Grace and Jimmy made their way to a nearby restaurant, where they settled into a cozy corner for lunch. As they ate, their conversation flowed easily, ranging from mundane topics to more personal matters.
"He's a pretty well-behaved baby." Jimmy commented, nodding towards Isaac, who slept soundly in his basket.
"Yeah, he's a good boy," Grace agreed with a smile, her maternal instincts kicking in as she looked at him sleeping.
"So is Buck planning on returning soon?" Jimmy inquired, his tone shifting to a more serious note.
"I'm sure you would know more than I would," Grace replied with a sigh, her expression growing solemn. "I feel terrible for poor Isaac, though."
"Why is that?" Jimmy probed gently, sensing Grace's unease.
"Can you keep this between us?" Grace asked, her voice dropping to a whisper as she leaned in closer.
Jimmy nodded in silence, his seriousness assured her.
"Buck knows he's not his son, and I think he wants nothing to do with him." Grace confided, her heart heavy with worry for Isaac's future.
"So is he leaving the boy and Kathleen?" Jimmy pressed for more details, his brow furrowing with concern.
"I don't know." Grace admitted, her gaze clouded with uncertainty. "I have half a mind to take the boy to California with me and raise him."
And as they parted ways at the end of their meal, Grace couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected bond she had formed with Jimmy, a bond that little did she know would offer her strength and support in the many months ahead.
Chapter 18
Shadow Valley – Texas 1873
Grace tended to the fire, adding another log and poking it down to keep it burning steadily. She had hoped to be home before winter, avoiding the harshness of the cold months, but now she found herself stuck in this freezing weather, trapped in the Cross household.
Buck had been absent for over two months. Kathleen's affair with Mitchell, one of Buck's ranch hands, was no secret. Grace couldn't help but feel disgusted by Kathleen's brazen behavior, especially when she took him to her marriage bed. It was clear to Grace that this man was likely Isaac's father, though she couldn't be certain.
Kathleen had barely spoken to her in weeks, which suited Grace just fine. When she wasn't caring for Isaac, Grace spent most of her time either locked in her room or seeking solace in the barn with the horses. Tomorrow, she planned to head into town to send off a letter to her brother, longing for spring to arrive so she could leave this tumultuous situation behind.
As Grace reflected on Kathleen's actions, memories of her past behavior towards Armand resurfaced. Grace knew that Kathleen had not been faithful to her brother, using him for his fortune and stringing him along with false promises.
The flickering candlelight danced on the worn pages of the book in Grace's lap, its gentle glow a poor match for the storm raging outside. Lost in the world of the story, she barely registered the creak of a floorboard above. Then, Kathleen's sharp voice sliced through the quiet.
"You're still up?"
Grace startled, the book slipping from her grasp. She looked up to see Kathleen silhouetted against the dimly lit hallway, her expression unreadable in the flickering candlelight.
"I couldn't sleep," Grace replied, forcing a neutral tone despite the knot of tension tightening in her stomach.
"You sit at that window like you expect your knight in shining armor to come and rescue you," Kathleen remarked sarcastically.
"Don't be overdramatic.," Grace sighed. "I like to watch the trees."
"You are leaving this spring, aren't you?" Kathleen questioned.
"Yes, as soon as the snow melts." Grace confirmed.
"I know you are bored here, and I appreciate your help." Kathleen said, her tone almost conciliatory.
"Of course."
She knew that Kathleen was mincing words with her and couldn't wait until she was out of her life. What brought on this sudden change of heart was beyond her.
"I don't expect Buck will be coming back either, so you have no need to write."
"I didn't come to see your husband, I came to see you through your pregnancy."
"I'm not a fool Grace, though you obviously think I am. I know that you and my husband have been lovers."
"I've never!" Grace stood up in a heated furry. "How dare you accuse me of bedding your husband when you yourself take another to your bed?"
"You've always wanted Buck, I knew it the moment I saw the way you looked at him. You couldn't stand it that I had something you wanted. That's why you really left and didn't stay for our wedding." Kathleen's voice dripped with accusation as she hurled a vase at Grace.
"I did admire him very much," Grace responded calmly, trying to maintain her composure. "But we never had a relationship like you're insinuating."
"I saw you before he left, down near the barn. You couldn't keep your hands off of him." Kathleen continued, her voice laced with bitterness.
"Oh, give it a rest already. Your husband was drunk and not thinking clearly. He was most likely trying to hurt you because you had a child with another man. Next time you want to point fingers at my morality, go look in the mirror!" Grace retorted, her patience wearing thin.
"You have always looked down on me from your ivory tower. You are nothing better than a half-breed yourself, you know? Your father sullied his bloodline with your mother. You are no better than I am!" Kathleen spat out, her words dripping with venom.
"Kathleen, why are you —" Grace attempted to interject, but Kathleen cut her off, refusing to listen.
"You come here in your fine clothes and jewels and lofty attitude." Kathleen interrupted, her voice rising with anger.
"You don't deserve my friendship, and you don't deserve your husband's love and fidelity either!" Kathleen declared, her tone final.
Grace was taken aback by the sudden change in Kathleen's demeanor. As she turned to go upstairs, Kathleen grabbed a fistful of her chestnut locks, yanking her to the ground. A flurry of skirts and ruffles ensued as Kathleen struck Grace several times before Grace managed to overpower her, knocking her almost unconscious.
"I want you out of this house!" Kathleen screamed, blood pouring from her nose and lip.
"My pleasure!" Grace retorted, starting up the stairs again. But before she could reach the top, she felt a sharp pain to her head, then darkness enveloped her, and everything faded to nothing.
Chapter 19
Shadow Valley – Texas 1873
Months had bled into one another since Buck stumbled, near death, into the heart of the small Kiowa village. The vibrancy that once flickered faintly in his sunken eyes now blazed with renewed life. Gone was the pallor of sickness, replaced by a healthy tan that spoke of days spent under the open sky.
"Your medicine is much improved, my brother." Red Bear observed, his gaze warm upon Buck.
Buck met his gaze, a wry smile gracing his lips. "Being here, with you, has helped in more ways than one."
Red Bear nodded sagely. "Tell me of your vision, then."
Buck hesitated, the memory shimmering at the edges of his mind. "It's...fragmentary. In the beginning, there was a buck. Wounded, limping, it was being relentlessly pursued by a fox. The fox, relentless, nipped and snapped at the buck's legs, draining its strength."
He paused, his brow furrowing as he wrestled with the fragmented images. "Then, a bird. I remember looking up and seeing a bird soaring overhead. But that's when things grew strange. The buck...it transformed. It sprouted wings and rose into the sky, leaving the frustrated fox behind."
Red Bear listened intently, his expression unreadable. "What kind of bird was it, Buck? Can you recall its form?"
Buck shook his head, frustration edging into his voice. "No, that's the thing. It wasn't a bird I recognized. Does it...does it make a difference?"
"There are birds of prey, swift and fierce." Red Bear elaborated, his voice a low rumble. "Birds of song, their melodies carrying messages on the wind. Gatherers, hunters, each with their own purpose."
Buck frowned, searching his memory. "It looked... perhaps like a swallow, but different. Unfamiliar markings, a wingspan I don't recall seeing before."
Red Bear's gaze held Buck's for a long moment. "Brother," he began, his voice heavy with meaning, "you confided to me, when you arrived. Your heart was conflicted. Perhaps this vision is a sign."
A knot of unease tightened in Buck's gut. "A sign of what?"
The elder Kiowa shaman offered a tight smile, his eyes glinting with an ancient wisdom.
"That, my friend, is a path you must walk yourself. But know this," he added, rising to his full height and placing a calloused hand on Buck's shoulder. "The time has come for you to return to your home. The answers you seek may lie there.
As Buck lay in the dim light of the hut, his mind drifted to the haunting image from his vision – the wounded buck pursued relentlessly by the cunning and beautiful fox. It seemed to him now, in the stillness of the night, that this imagery held a deeper significance, a symbolic representation of the forces at play in his own life.
Grace, with her gracefulness and allure, resembled the fox in his vision – a captivating presence that drew him in with its charm and allure. Yet, like the fox nipping at the heels of the wounded buck, he couldn't shake the feeling that Grace was somehow destined to be his undoing.
The more he pondered, the clearer it became to him that his feelings for Grace were a perilous trap, leading him further away from his duties and commitments. In her beauty lay a danger he could not afford to ignore, a temptation that threatened to derail his already fragile existence.
He closed his eyes in an effort to find solace in sleep, however Buck couldn't shake the nagging sense of guilt that gnawed at him. He knew deep down that he didn't truly love Kathleen, and he was painfully aware that the child she brought into the world, was not his own. Could he fault her for seeking solace and affection elsewhere, especially during his illness when he was unable to fulfill his duties as a husband?
With a heavy sigh, Buck resolved to set things right upon his return home. He knew that sending Grace away would not be easy – it would be a painful sacrifice for both of them. But it was necessary to preserve what remained of his marriage and to spare Grace from further heartache.
As he drifted into uneasy slumber, Buck vowed to make amends for his past mistakes. He would apologize to Grace for his drunken behavior, seeking her forgiveness and hoping to mend the rift that had formed between them. For she was a lady, deserving of his respect and honesty, even if it meant facing her ire and disdain.
Chapter 20
Shadow Valley – Texas 1873
As Grace regained consciousness, she found herself lying on the floor, disoriented and confused. The dull ache at the back of her head reminded her of her fall. She pushed herself up, wincing as she felt the tender lump on her head. Her surroundings seemed hazy, as if she were seeing them through a foggy lens.
Gradually, the room came into focus, revealing the chaos that surrounded her. Torn bed linens littered the floor, furniture lay in disarray, and clothes were strewn about. Grace's heart pounded with alarm as she struggled to comprehend what had transpired.
With growing trepidation, Grace made her way to Kathleen's room, hoping for some explanation. She knocked softly, but there was no response. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open, revealing a scene of utter devastation that sent a shiver down her spine.
The room was in disarray, mirroring the chaos of the rest of the house. Torn curtains fluttered in the breeze, while furniture lay overturned and broken. Clothes lay scattered across the floor, as if discarded in haste.
"Kathleen?" Grace called out, her voice trembling with apprehension. But there was no answer, only an eerie silence that hung heavy in the air.
Fear gnawed at Grace's insides as she realized that Kathleen and Isaac were nowhere to be found. Did someone break in the house and knock her out? And where was Kathleen? With a sinking feeling in her heart, Grace knew that she had to find answers, and fast.
Panic set it as she flew down the stairs. As she hit the landing, she saw the front door open and standing there were Teaspoon, Jimmy, and a few other men, one being the marshal.
Grace struggled to focus on the marshal's words, her own panicked cries echoing loudly in her ears. Despite the chaos in her mind, she managed to convey the crucial information: Kathleen and the baby were missing.
With Jimmy's steady assistance, Grace made her way to the waiting buckboard. She clung to his arm for support, her heart racing with anxiety. Through the haze of fear, she heard Jimmy's reassuring voice as he promised the deputies that he would take responsibility for her.
"Are you alright?" Jimmy steadied her by holding her shoulders still.
"Jimmy answer me!"
"You're bleeding." He reached out and touched her neck, withdrawing his fingers showing her the blood. "What happened?"
"I don't know, my head hurts."
Jimmy reached back and felt the large bump on her head. He yelled up to the deputies he was taking her to the doctor's and he would meet them there.
"What happened?"
"I don't know, I don't remember."
"What was the last thing you remember?"
"Kathleen and I got in a fight, I remember she was hitting me so I hit her back, hard. I remember she was bleeding. Then I must have fainted, because when I woke up my head hurt and no one was home."
"What were you fighting about?"
"She was crazy. She went on about Buck and I having an affair. I just remember I was going to go pack but that's all I remember."
"What do you remember about Isaac?"
"I put him down to sleep before she came home, he was sleeping."
It was in that moment that Grace realized there was a reason that the law was there and Jimmy was asking her all these questions.
"Jimmy, what's happened?" She started crying in fear.
"Shh, Grace you are going to need to hold it together and you are going to need a lawyer."
"What?" Her voluminous green eyes gazed up and locked with his.
"Kathleen as made some serious allegations against you."
"No no, this can't be happening. I knew Kathleen was mad at me, but would she go this far?"
"I'm going to take you to the doctors."
"And then?"
"I'm afraid that's up to the marshal—."
"What happened? What is Kathleen accusing me of?"
"Murder."
"No, that's not possible." Grace's face went white. "I don't understand."
"Isaac was suffocated. Kathleen claims she saw you doing it and tried to save her baby."
"Not Isaac." Grace burst into tears and sobbed uncontrollably. "He was just an innocent baby —"
"I hate to tell you there is more."
"I can't bear to hear it now please."
Grace curled up in a ball and cried until she finally passed out from exhaustion. Jimmy carried her into the doctor's office. He watched as the doctor firstly treated her head wound and commented that she may have a concussion.
The doctor then made himself busy making notes on her hands, her state of dress the manner of tearing of her garments.
"What are you doing Doc?"
"The marshal said this is a murder investigation, I'm just gathering evidence."
"What kind of evidence." Jimmy asked.
"See how her hair is pulled out in clumps here." The doctor pointed to her scalp. "Well it's from behind, that would determine she was trying to get away when she was attacked."
"Interesting."
"The tearing of her clothes matches the tearing of the alleged victims clothing as well, so that supports what they both say, they had a fight." The doctor started taking notes and taking great care to inspect her hands.
"What are you looking for?"
"The child was suffocated and the mother claims she was attacked, but look here, these wounds here on her wrists? These are defensive wounds. She was protecting herself."
"So Grace didn't do it?"
"Now I didn't say that." The doctor cautioned him. "After finding her child dead perhaps Kathleen held her down. I can only say what I find, I can't tell you what happened."
"Where am I" Grace took a shallow breath as her eyes fluttered open.
"My dear I'm Doctor Peterson and I'm just making sure you are alright."
"Jimmy?"
"I'm here."
"What happened?"
"Kathleen said you tried to strangle her and one if one of the ranch hands hadn't knocked you over the head with the butt of his gun you would have killed her too."
She tensed up when she saw two deputies walk into the small office and wait by the door.
"Is she well enough Doc?" One of the deputies asked.
"I suppose so, but I'd like to check on her tomorrow."
"You're going to need a lawyer Grace, can you afford one?" James walked with her to the jail.
"Am I being formally charged?" She asked the deputy.
"I'm afraid so Ma'am."
"Jimmy, please write to my brother. Let him know to come immediately."
Part Three – Swan Song
Swan Song
- Song excerpt –
by A Fine Frenzy (Alison Sudol)
Foolish, how was I so careless
Pawning off my treasure, the envy of an heiress
Now my dollars are crumbled in my pocket
How can I reclaim it?
What if someone's got it?
How could the world have turned so ugly
I am dying
Could you touch me again?
Touch me again
When I wrote the words to the swan song
The author of the wrong
And I said what I said and I meant it
But now I regret it
Chapter 21
Shadow Valley – Texas 1874
Weeks had passed since Grace found herself confined within the walls of the jail, her hope dwindling with each passing day. She longed for a sign from her brother or Jimmy, a glimmer of reassurance in the darkness of her predicament. Though her faith wavered, she clung to the small comforts that punctuated the monotonous days.
With the help of a sympathetic deputy, Grace managed to secure a book to while away the hours, its pages offering a temporary escape from the harsh reality of her confinement. Yet, even amidst the solitude of her cell, she found comfort in Teaspoon's daily visits a reminder that she was not alone in her struggle.
One visit brought not only Jimmy but also an attorney with news that shifted the ground beneath her feet. Her brother's arrival was imminent, and the trial, once a distant specter, now loomed large. If it wasn't for her brother's influence and wealth, she was sure she would have hung by this time. Thankfully the newly appointed governor was easily swayed to hold the trial in Dallas and not the small town of Shadow Valley. It gave her hope, however it also underscored the true severity of the crimes she being accused of.
As the weather warmed, bringing with it a tentative sense of renewal, Buck made an appearance at the jailhouse, his arrival unexpected yet not unwelcome. Grace braced herself for their encounter, unsure of what to expect from the man whose judgment held her fate in its hands.
The silence between them was deafening, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Grace watched as Buck sat apart from her, his hands clasped tightly around an object whose significance eluded her. Despite her attorney's warnings, she couldn't suppress the urge to plead her innocence.
"I didn't do what she says I did, I swear it to you." She finally said softly, meekly from the corner of the cell.
"I'm not supposed to talk about the case with you." He whispered.
Her gaze swept over him, lingering for a beat. "You look better," she stated flatly. The ravages of illness seemed to have vanished, replaced by a healthy glow.
"Visiting my brother was eye opening to a lot of things." He took a deep breath.
The words of his brother came ringing through his mind. 'One is your downfall and will destroy you, the other will set you free.' Even in the darkest recesses of his mind, he never would have thought Grace was capable of murder though. That was before he spoke with the doctor in Lubbock upon his return.
"Do you recognize this box?"
Grace looked at the ornately decorated silver box that he held out to her. Grace pursed her lips together and looked at him silently. She didn't know why he wanted to know and she didn't want to give him an answer.
"Do you recognize it?" Buck almost shouted at her forcefully.
"Of course I do. It was kept in your pantry. I've seen it several times."
"Don't play coy with me Grace. Kathleen told me you gave it to us as a wedding present."
"No that's not true." She answered exactly as he asked the question.
"Workmanship like this didn't come from around here Grace."
She was acting cagey. Buck couldn't blame her, but he needed answers.
"Tell me what happened." He softened his tone.
"You know I can't."
"Did you give this to Kathleen?"
"I gave it to her years ago as a birthday present. Before you were married." Grace confessed. "Why are you asking me about something so trivial?"
"The spices in here were laced with a poison." He looked deep in her eyes to try and relay any hint of truth. "So that means you were either trying to kill Kathleen or myself, or the both of us."
Grace's breath hitched in her as her mind reeled with the information. "I gave her the box—" she murmured, a memory tugging at the edges of her mind. "It was years before you had even met her. Whatever is in there now I did not put it there."
Grace closed her eyes and sighed. What else could possibly come up now?
"I have never deceived you. I have only cared for you and Kathleen and put myself out to do so. The only thing I am culpable for is misreading your affections for me."
"Grace —"
"I have made no advances towards you in the slightest since you were married. I respected the sanctity of your marriage and I've respected your choice. I have no cause at all to hurt you or Kathleen, but most of all dear Isaac." She softly plead with him.
"Please stop —"
"Who loved that child except for me?" Her voice began to rise with her temper. "You abandoned him! His mother ignored him! I was the only one who cared for the boy. If it weren't for me, he would have starved to death in his crib. So, if you insist on finding guilt you must look elsewhere. I am not to blame!"
As tears streamed down her cheeks, a torrent of emotions overwhelmed Grace, threatening to engulf her in a sea of despair. The weight of fatigue bore down upon her weary frame, each sob a wracking her small frame. With trembling hands, she reached for the thin blanket on the cot, wrapping herself in its meager warmth as if seeking refuge from the world.
Turning away from Buck, she sought solace in the darkness that enveloped her, the silence of the jail house. She felt his presence linger in the air, yet his departure only served to deepen the chasm that divided them.
Alone in her grief, Grace clung to the fragile threads of hope that still tethered her to sanity, her heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty. As exhaustion finally claimed her, she surrendered to the embrace of sleep, seeking respite from the chaos that raged around her.
Chapter 22
Dallas – Texas 1874
A wave of exhaustion washed over Grace as the heavy cell door clanged shut behind her. The journey to Dallas had been a nightmare, and the sterile beige walls of her new cell offered little comfort. At least it was marginally cleaner than Shadow Valley, she mused with a grim smile, noting the somewhat clean cot and a solitary pillow.
A flicker of disappointment crossed her mind when she remembered Teaspoon wouldn't be making the trip. The harsh terrain and unforgiving climate wouldn't have been kind to the older man. Still, a sliver of relief remained – he wouldn't have to hear firsthand all the trial would likely bring.
The metallic clang of the cell door startled her from her thoughts. Mr. Prescott, her lawyer, entered with a grim expression etched on his face. Jimmy, his freckled brow furrowed in worry, followed closely behind, flanked by a stoic-faced deputy.
A glimmer of relief washed over Grace as her attorney, Mr. Prescott, and Jimmy were escorted in by a local deputy, granted permission to enter her cell. Jimmy's embrace, warm and unexpected, enveloped Grace. Memories flickered back – his initial gruffness, her initial misjudgment. This ordeal had revealed his true nature, a wellspring of kindness beneath the hardened exterior. She sank gratefully into his comfort.
"The prosecution won't be gentle, and testifying is unavoidable." A shadow crossed her attorney's face.
Grace interjected firmly. "I have nothing to hide."
"He's going to dig into your past with Mrs. Cross." Mr. Prescott continued. "Your friendship, any conflicts you had growing up."
"There's nothing in my past they can use against me." She stood firm. "I am innocent."
"Tell me how you met." The man sat and scribbled something in his notebook.
"Kathleen and I meet at school, we were just children. She and my brother were actually more friends than I at that time."
"Your brother pursued her?" Mr. Prescott inquired.
Just then, Armand strode through the door, a beacon of both comfort and revelation.
"Armand!" Grace exclaimed, rushing to him as the court officer unlocked the door. She embraced her brother tightly, her emotions spilling over.
"Shh, my darling." Armand soothed, his voice calming to her frayed nerves. "I'll make sure everything will be alright."
"I should have listened to you and stayed home." Grace lamented softly. "I swear to you I am innocent."
"You don't need to confess your innocence. I know you heart." He looked at her solemnly. "Let me put to rest the entirety of my dealings with Kathleen Devlin."
As Mr. Prescott turned his attention to Armand, Grace listened intently, her heart aching with each revelation about Kathleen's deceitful past. The truth about Kathleen's manipulation and malice slowly emerged, shedding light on the tangled web of lies woven around them.
Grace held her brother's hand and cried for his heartbreak. No wonder he had been haunted by this for so many years. He had been cruelly deprived of his son or daughter.
"I'm sorry to put this bluntly, but this is good for our case," Armand admitted, his words heavy with sorrow. "It shows malice on her part. The ability to end a life isn't something new to her."
"I'm so sorry." Grace whispered, her voice choked with emotion, as she clung to her brother's hand.
With Armand's revelations echoing in her mind, Grace faced the inevitable barrage of questions from Mr. Prescott, her resolve unwavering despite the mounting pressure.
"Mrs. Cross is claiming you and her husband had an affair." Mr. Prescott stated, his voice measured.
"No, we did not." Grace met his gaze squarely, her expression resolute.
As the interrogation continued, Grace answered each question with steely determination, refusing to be swayed by Mr. Prescott's probing.
"She claims you gave her a box of poison." Mr. Prescott pressed, his tone accusatory.
"I'm aware of that." She replied evenly.
"So you know about the box?" Mr. Prescott's curiosity sparked, his pen poised over his notepad.
Grace nodded solemnly. "Buck asked me about it before we left Shadow Valley."
"He visited you?" A hopeful grin stretched across his face as he slammed his notebook shut. "This can help us."
"How so?" Grace's brows furrowed in confusion.
"Collusion, tampering at the least." Mr. Prescott explained, a sense of optimism evident in his voice as he patted Armand on the back.
"No, no Buck isn't a part of this."
"I'm going to petition the court tomorrow." Mr. Prescott turned to Armand, almost ignoring Grace's pleas.
"You aren't listening, Buck wouldn't have—"
"Listen to me Grace." Armand's voice was firm as he rose from his seat, closing the distance between them with purpose. He gently grasped her arms, his eyes searching hers for understanding. "I don't care what Mr. Prescott has to do as long as you don't hang. Do you understand me?"
Jimmy's voice cut through the tense silence, his words heavy with experience. "Grace, your brother's right. I've seen the legal system fail too many times – the guilty walk free, the innocent left to suffer." A flicker of pain crossed his features, a hint of a past he wasn't willing to share. "Buck is like a brother to me, but if throwing doubt on him is what keeps you safe, then that's the path we have to take."
Chapter 23
Dallas – Texas 1874
Jimmy tapped his fingers impatiently on the worn wooden counter of the saloon, his eyes scanning the room for his old friend. Twenty minutes had passed since he sent the note, and Buck was still nowhere to be seen. Jimmy couldn't help but wonder if Buck was making excuses to Kathleen or debating whether to show up at all.
Finally, Buck walked in, and Jimmy greeted him with a nod. "Hickok."
"Thanks for coming Buck." Jimmy said, relieved to see him.
"Your note said it was important." Buck stated, getting straight to the point.
"I have faith that you want to do the right thing, and I need you to trust me." Jimmy said earnestly, his tone serious.
"You? Have faith? That's something I never thought I'd hear you say." Buck remarked with a hint of humor.
"I'm serious Buck, a woman's life hangs in the balance." Jimmy pressed, emphasizing the urgency of the situation. "You know she didn't do any of this." Jimmy asserted, his conviction unwavering.
"I shouldn't have left when I did." Buck admitted, a tinge of regret coloring his words.
"Your regrets won't help her." Jimmy said firmly, urging Buck to focus on the present.
"What do you want?" Buck asked, taking a slow sip of the whiskey, his gaze fixed on Jimmy.
"I want your permission to go through your house, see if there is anything that was missed." Jimmy explained, getting to the heart of the matter.
"The marshal himself went through the house." Buck countered, expressing skepticism.
"You know both women better than I do. You tell me who should be in that jail cell?" Jimmy challenged, appealing to Buck's judgment.
"Ride like the devil's on your back, Jimmy." Buck replied with a nod, giving his consent.
With that, Jimmy wasted no time, leaving the saloon and heading out of town. He made a brief stop to bid farewell to Grace, assuring her that he would be back before the trial started. He explained his plan to visit the Cross house to search for any overlooked evidence.
Chapter 24
Dallas – Texas 1874
Grace sat somberly in the courtroom. Despite her hopes, the judge had not declared a mistrial, and now she found herself facing the daunting prospect of taking the stand. It had been over a week since Jimmy left for Shadow Valley, leaving her with a sense of unease and uncertainty. She couldn't shake the feeling that he hadn't found anything significant, and she dreaded the thought of having to face the court without any new evidence in her favor.
As Kathleen took the stand, Grace's anxiety intensified. She watched in silence as Kathleen began to weave her carefully crafted narrative, recounting their past interactions with a sense of calculated precision. Every word uttered by Kathleen felt like a dagger to Grace's heart, each sentence painting her as the villain in a story she didn't recognize.
Her hands shook uncontrollably as Kathleen delved into their history, describing their initial meeting and the brief romance between Armand and herself. Grace felt a wave of nausea wash over her as Kathleen twisted the truth, manipulating the facts to suit her own agenda. It was a surreal experience, sitting there in silence as her life was dissected before the court, her fate hanging in the balance.
Despite her overwhelming fear and uncertainty, Grace knew that she had to remain composed. She couldn't afford to let Kathleen's lies rattle her, not when so much was at stake. With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and prepared herself.
"Mrs. Cross, did you have any suspicion of indiscretions between your husband and the defendant when she came out at your behest to help you with your pregnancy?"
"Not at first, but after a while I became suspicious. When I approached the defendant about it, she laughed at me." Kathleen dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. "She told me herself in great detail of their affair!"
"She boasted that she seduced your husband under your roof while you lay in bed with his child?" The prosecutor shouted, adding to the drama that was already thick in the courtroom.
"Yes." Kathleen sighed, the word laced with a hint of resignation. "She was relentless in her pursuit. I've forgiven my husband, of course. Frankly I was a fool to ever invite her to my home. How could anyone resist someone like her." she added quickly, her eyes flickering away.
"You are a forgiving woman Mrs. Cross." The attorney nodded in praise. "Please tell the court about the evening that your innocent child was murdered."
"Because my injuries were so devastating it's a little fuzzy." Kathleen burst into tears and took several moments to collect herself before continuing.
Dramatically the prosecuting attorney turned to the court. "Mrs. Cross suffered major damage not only to her head, but also her face, neck, torso and limbs! Please Ma'am continue, when you are ready."
"I was retiring for the evening, the defendant was sitting by the fire. I remember we started talking, it turned into an argument, then suddenly she attacked me. She told me she was going to kill me just like she did my child, then she could have my husband to herself." Kathleens' white gloved hand fluttered up to her brow as she took a measured breath. "She just kept hitting me, over and over! I couldn't see what was happening I was trying to cover my head from her blows. Mr. Jackson must have heard the screams because suddenly he was there and he subdued her."
"When the defendant was incapacitated, what did you do next?"
"I ran to my baby, but he wasn't breathing. She had already killed him." Kathleen burst into tears again.
"No further questions for this witness."
"Do you need some time to collect yourself?" The defense attorney asked.
"No, I just want to get this over with." She whispered hoarsely.
Grace's attorney, a man known for his calm but relentless style, approached Kathleen with a measured tread. He stopped directly in front of her, his voice firm yet polite. "Mrs. Cross," he began, consulting his notes for a beat before continuing. "I believe there's evidence suggesting you were once engaged to the defendant's brother, Armand, is that accurate?"
"Yes I believe we discussed it." A flicker of surprise crossed Kathleen's face.
"How did things end with Mr. D'Augostino?"
"I don't remember, things just weren't working out."
"So it wasn't that you had gotten pregnant, and forced a miscarriage of your child because you refused to sign a prenuptial agreement that his father insisted upon?"
"No, no of course not!" Kathleen gasped.
"Objection!" The prosecutor yelled.
"You're honor I must be allowed to present all the facts." Mr. Prescot stated.
"I'll give you a slight bit of leeway here. Do you have any proof of this allegation?"
"Testimony from Armand D'Augostino."
"I'll allow it." The judge ruled.
"Before you married your husband, didn't you almost get him killed before running off with another man?" Mr. Prescot continued.
"Objection! Relevance." The prosecution stood up.
"It shows the malice that this woman is capable of."
"She is not on trial Mr. Prescott, move along."
"No other questions." The defense attorney sat at the desk next to Grace.
The judge looked over at the prosecutor. "Do you have any more witnesses?"
"One Sir. I'd like to call Mitchell Jackson to the stand."
Once the man took his oath he sat down and nervously looked around the crowded courtroom.
"Mr. Jackson how do you know the Cross family?" The prosecuting attorney asked.
"I've work for Mr. Cross. He hired me to help on the ranch."
"The night in question, can you please describe where you were?"
"I was out mending a fence. It was close to the house. I heard screaming."
"What did you do next?" The attorney persisted.
"Well I ran in the house and saw them two fightin'."
"And what did you do?"
"The defendant had Mrs. Cross on the ground and it looked like she was strangling her so hit her over the head with the butt of my gun."
"And she stopped?" The prosecution attorney looked out into the crowd. "According to your words, choking her?"
"Yes Sir, I knocked her clean out."
"Thank you. No further questions."
"Mr. Jackson, what exactly is your relationship with Mrs. Cross?" The defense attorney stood up.
"She's my boss's wife of course."
"You are under oath Mr. Jackson. I'm prepared to call several witnesses that saw you and Mrs. Cross in intimate moments."
"Well, I ah, sometimes we were friendly with each other."
"Friendly enough to consummate a child together?"
"Objection!" The prosecuting attorney yelled loudly.
"I have witnesses, and a doctor ready to testify to the fact that the child was not of Indian blood and therefore not Mr. Cross's child." Mr. Prescot interrupted.
"Is this true Mr. Prescott?" The judge asked.
"Yes Sir, Dr. Peterson will be testifying regarding physical evidence is prepared to testify to this as well."
"Mr. Jackson, was the child yours?" The judge looked harshly at the man.
"I guess it's a possibility."
"So your saying there other men that could have fathered Mrs. Cross's child?" Mr. Prescot asked.
"How dare you!" Kathleen stood up and screamed.
"Order!" The judge shouted. "Sit down Mrs. Cross or you will be escorted from this court."
"When my client, was brought to the doctor after the alleged event she was thoroughly examined by the doctor and he stated she was hit in the head with a flat object, not like the butt of your gun. How could that be?"
"Objection, calls for speculation." The prosecutor stated.
"I'll allow this line of questioning, but make your point quickly counselor."
"Well, maybe she hit her head falling down after I hit her?"
"Are you guessing or is that what happened?"
"Everything happened so fast —"
"Or is this what Mrs. Cross told you to say."
"Objection Your Honor!"
"Withdrawn." The defense attorney gave Kathleen and her attorney a deliberately self-satisfied smile.
"We will begin the defense tomorrow morning at nine sharp." The judge hit the gavel and the crowd started dissipating and chattering amongst themselves.
Grace was quickly ushered from the courthouse, her heart pounding as she was led back to her cell. Once inside, her attorney, Mr. Prescott, wasted no time in joining her, his demeanor serious as he prepared to review the day's testimony.
"Call Buck to the stand!" Grace blurted out as soon as her attorney came into view.
"We want people to uphold your story." Mr. Prescott shook his head. "He would only hurt your case. He will side with his wife."
"No, Buck will tell the truth." She insisted. "Right now, it's her accusations against mine on whether or not we had an affair. If you ask Buck he won't lie. He'll tell the truth."
"It's risky." Her attorney considered the possibilities.
"There has to be a reason they didn't call him as a witness." She pointed out. "Kathleen knows he won't lie for her! She doesn't want him on the stand."
"I'll see if I can have a meeting with him first, just to make sure you are right."
"Thank you." She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Thank you for working so hard, I really appreciate it."
"Thank me when you're free."
Chapter 25
Dallas – Texas 1874
Grace tossed and turned throughout the night, her mind consumed with thoughts of what tomorrow would bring. When dawn finally broke, it brought with it a sense of both relief and trepidation. She hastily dressed in a plain navy-blue skirt and white blouse, her fingers fumbling slightly as she attempted to pin back her unruly hair.
As she made her way to the courthouse, her attorney's words from their earlier preparation session echoed in her mind. Mr. Prescott had spent hours meticulously going over every detail of her testimony, ensuring she was as prepared as possible for the grueling ordeal that lay ahead.
Upon entering the crowded courtroom, Grace felt a wave of anxiety wash over her. The air was thick with tension, and she struggled to draw in a breath as she made her way to her seat. She knew the eyes of the spectators were upon her, their whispers like a constant buzz in her ears.
The proceedings began, and her heart pounded in her chest as the first witness was called to the stand. It was the doctor who had examined her on the night of the event, and she listened intently as he recounted his findings, his testimony a crucial piece of evidence in her defense.
"Dr. Peterson, you examined the defendant were you not?"
"Yes, Mr. Hickok brought the young lady in and the deputies waited as I treated her."
"Can you describe what your notes were from that day?"
"When she came in, she was unconscious. There was a large lump on her head."
"It was Mr. Jackson's testimony he hit her with the butt of his gun, is that what you found to be true?"
"No Sir, the butt of a gun, or a similar instrument makes a completely different mark. The defendant had a large symmetrical lump, something smooth and flat."
"Like a pot, or pan?"
"Certainly a possibility." The doctor agreed.
"Can you describe to us, the state of the defendant's physical nature."
"There were tears and rips in her dress, and superficial scratches on her arms, face and neck. Typical wounds you would see when two women fight."
"Was there anything that wasn't typical, or anything out of the ordinary with Mrs. Cross's statement?"
"The defendant had bruises on her wrists like if someone was holding them down, and defensive marks on her hands. She also had a rather large clump of hair pulled from behind. These were not consistent with Mrs. Cross's statement."
"How can you tell the way the hair is pulled?"
"Miss. D'Augostino had her hair pinned in such a manner that if the hair was pulled from the front as if she were the aggressor, it would have pulled more off the crown off her head."
"Did you also examine the infant?"
"Yes Sir."
"And what were your findings?"
"It appeared that the child was suffocated with a pillow, or blanket."
"Is it possible that perhaps there was no foul play at all and the child merely suffocated by accident?"
"Many children die in this manner yes."
"So in your professional opinion this may just be an accident."
"There is no evidence either way."
"Thank you Dr. Peterson."
As the judge motioned for the prosecuting attorney to continue, Grace's heart rate quickened in anticipation. She braced herself for the barrage of questions that would surely follow, but to her surprise, the attorney shook his head, indicating that he had no further inquiries.
Next, it was Armand's turn to take the stand. She watched as her brother composed himself, his demeanor calm and collected as he prepared to face the scrutiny of the court. He had gone over his testimony meticulously with Mr. Prescott, and now it was time to put their preparation to the test.
Armand's voice was steady as he reiterated his answers to the questions posed by their attorney, his gaze occasionally flickering towards Kathleen in a silent appeal for empathy. But she remained impassive, her expression betraying no hint of emotion.
Then came the prosecution's turn to cross-examine. Grace held her breath, her fingers tightly interlaced in her lap. She could see the tension in her brother's jaw as he braced himself for the onslaught of inquiries. But despite the prosecutor's attempts to rattle him, Armand remained resolute, his responses measured and unwavering.
Grace felt a surge of pride swell within her as she watched her brother hold his own under the intense scrutiny of the courtroom. She knew that their fate rested in the hands of the jury, but in that moment, she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that justice would prevail.
"From what you have said about your past, you and your sister are very close."
"As close as two siblings can be." He agreed.
"And how close is that?"
"I'm sorry I don't understand your question."
"You two live in the same house, neither of you are married."
"Is there a question or are you confirming facts?" Armand challenged.
"Do you have carnal knowledge of your sister?"
Grace's mouth gaped open at the question and she heard the entire courtroom gasp in horror. The silence that followed was deafening.
"Objection Your Honor!" The defense attorney stood up outraged at the allegations and the depths to which the prosecutor would sink.
"I'm happy to answer your question." Armand stated loudly. "My sister and I are in every way siblings to each other. Sometimes I find myself more a guardian to her now that our father has passed. In no way is our relationship inappropriate or deviant."
"No further questions." The prosecution attorney sat down satisfied with the effect his questioning had on the crowd.
After the courtroom outburst, the judge called for a brief recess and warned both attorneys to maintain decorum. When her attorney returned, he assured Grace that the judge hadn't been swayed by the prosecution's tactics.
"It was said in open court!" Grace raised her voice. "I'm not only accused of being a murderous adulterer, but now incest?"
"Calm down Grace, no one believes that at all." Armand held her hands.
"She can just sit there and spew all these lies and there's nothing I can do to stop her!"
"We need to go back in." the attorney said, his brow furrowing as he glanced towards the door where someone was urgently motioning to him. Grace could sense the tension in the air, her heart pounding in anticipation.
"I wasn't able to speak with Mr. Cross," her attorney continued, his voice low and grave, "I don't think it's a good idea to call him to the stand."
Grace felt a surge of panic rising within her. Buck's testimony could make all the difference, she was sure of it. He was the only one who could refute the affair allegations and potentially sway the jury in her favor.
"Please." Grace pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation as she clasped her hands tightly together, her eyes pleading with her attorney. "I trust him to tell the truth."
Walking through the crowded courtroom, Grace felt the weight of accusatory stares bearing down on her, each glance a silent stab of judgement. Her heart raced with nerves, her palms growing clammy despite the coolness of the hallway.
Among the sea of faces, her eyes found Buck's, and in that brief exchange, she detected a mixture of concern and uncertainty. She fervently prayed that Buck possessed the honor she had always believed he did. As her attorney called him to the stand, she observed the surprised expressions on both Buck's and Kathleen's faces.
Chapter 26
Dallas – Texas 1874
Buck raised his hand, his gaze flickering between Kathleen and Grace on opposite sides of the courtroom. He swore to tell the truth, the weight of the oath settling heavily on him. He desperately wanted to believe Kathleen, to see the innocence in her eyes. But a seed of doubt had been planted, nurtured by Grace's unwavering honesty. He hadn't trusted her completely, and that failure now gnawed at him, a bitter fruit poisoning his heart and clouding his judgment.
As he looked at Grace and her brother, how couldn't he see the familial resemblance before? How could he have been so blinded to not just see the embrace on the dunes for what it was? That of affection between siblings? He'd allowed his obligations to Kathleen to blind his judgment.
Though uncertain about the specifics of what happened, Buck's intuition told him that Grace was innocent. He couldn't believe she would harm a child, nor could he fathom her poisoning him. Deep down, he knew she was incapable of such acts. But the reality was a bitter pill to swallow, if she hadn't done these things that only left one who could have. He wasn't certain he could face that truth.
"Mr. Cross how are you acquainted with my client?" The defense began.
"She is a friend, or was a friend of my wife."
"Did you have an affair with my client?"
"No Sir." Buck stated.
"Why did you leave your wife with a new born baby Mr. Cross?"
"I went to see my brother and his family in case I was taken ill again and couldn't make the journey."
"Did you have any hesitation in leaving your family with the defendant?"
"None sir."
"You had no reservations about leaving your wife and a newly born child in her care?"
"No."
"Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Cross, I am done with this witness."
"You never had any intimate relations with the defendant?" The prosecuting attorney asked.
"No Sir."
"It's your wife's testimony that she caught you embracing each in a licentious manner other only a few brief months before this horrible event."
"Kathleen and I had a fight. I was going to spend the winter with my brother. The defendant tried to stop me." Buck took a deep breath before he continued. "I had several drinks too much and was very drunk. I kissed her, it was not Grace that initiated anything. In fact she slapped me, as I well deserved."
"So you weren't a faithful husband?" The prosecutor challenged.
"I don't consider a drunken kiss in that situation unfaithful."
"What do you consider that Mr. Cross?"
"Just that, a drunken mistake."
"And had there been other drunken mistakes with the defendant before that?"
Discomfort flickered across Buck's face. "I don't typically drink," he began, his voice tight. "As I mentioned earlier—"
"Mr. Cross," the attorney interrupted sharply, leaning forward. "Was the defendant in love with you?"
Buck's head snapped up, his gaze meeting Grace's directly for a charged moment. Before he could answer, Mr. Prescott was on his feet.
"Objection!" he boomed. "There's no way Mr. Cross can possess knowledge of my client's emotional state."
"Sustained." The judge nodded in agreement.
A flicker of satisfaction, subtle yet unmistakable, played across her lawyer's face as he sat beside Grace. Here was a silent affirmation: Buck's testimony hadn't gone unnoticed. The prosecutor, however, seemed invigorated. He rose abruptly and approached the stand, his voice sharp as he addressed Grace.
"Mr. Cross," he began, "upon returning home from visiting your brother, is it accurate to say you discovered the source of your illness?"
"Yes sir."
"And what was that?"
"Cyanide poisoning."
Grace sat up abruptly, startled by the sudden gasp that rippled through the crowd. Her heart raced as she followed the direction of their collective gaze, her eyes settling on the prosecutor who held up the silver box in his hand.
The prosecutor rose, his voice dripping with a theatrical solemnity. "Your Honor," he began, placing a small box on the judge's bench with a dramatic thud. Several sheets of paper followed, their crisp edges snapping as they landed. He paused, letting the weight of the moment hang heavy in the air. "The contents of this very box," he continued, his gaze fixed on Grace, "have been tested by a qualified chemist. And the results, as you will see in these documents," he gestured towards the papers, "are nothing short of alarming. The presence of cyanide is undeniable."
"Continue." The judge looked through the paperwork.
"Do you recognize this box Mr. Cross." The attorney asked.
"Yes."
"And where did it come from?"
Buck's voice hitched slightly as he spoke. "To the best of my knowledge, the box...it was a gift from Kathleen to my wife." His gaze flickered towards Kathleen, searching her face for a flicker of recognition, a hint of understanding. But her expression remained a blank slate, an unreadable mask.
A wave of unease washed over him as he scanned the courtroom. Some faces held pity, others reeked of righteous anger, and a few even gleamed with a disturbing eagerness. Finally, his eyes landed on Grace, her posture composed but her eyes shimmering with a wellspring of unspoken emotions – a mixture of hope and a sliver of fear.
"Mr. Cross are you in love with the defendant?" The prosecutor interrupted him.
"No!" The word erupted from Buck, a guttural denial that echoed through the courtroom. His body tensed, his jaw clenched tight. A flicker of anger sparked in his eyes, a fierce protectiveness directed at someone – Kathleen? Himself? He struggled to regain control, the simple question forcing him to confront a truth he desperately wanted to deny.
"You are under oath Mr. Cross. I'll ask you again. Are you in love with the defendant?"
"Objection Your Honor, that question has no relevance." Mr. Preston stood up exasperated.
"No further questions for this witness." The prosecutor walked back smugly to his table.
"Redirect." Mr. Prescot walked directly to the witness stand before he continued. "Mr. Cross, please continue with your answer regarding the box."
"It is my understanding that the box was a gift."
"Objection, Your Honor," Mr. Davenport interjected sharply. "Mr. Cross is relaying hearsay. He has no firsthand knowledge of this alleged gift."
"Mr. Cross you will answer questions as you have knowledge of." The judge warned.
"When my client was visiting you and your wife, did you not notice your symptoms subside?"
"Yes sir."
"Wouldn't you think it would be the opposite if she had means to harm you while—"
"Objection!" The prosecutor's voice boomed through the courtroom, cutting off the defense attorney mid-question. "This line of questioning is purely speculative."
The judge's glare landed squarely on the defense attorney. "Sustained," he said sharply. "Mr. Prescott, your questions must stay relevant to the facts at hand."
A flicker of frustration crossed the defense attorney's face, momentarily betraying his usual composure. "Withdrawn, Your Honor," he mumbled, defeated. "No further questions at this time."
Chapter 27
Dallas – Texas 1874
Each measured step echoed in the cavernous courtroom, amplifying the frantic drumming of her heart. Grace felt like a trapped bird, her senses overwhelmed by the weight of countless eyes. Fleeting glances darted towards her, a mix of curiosity and judgment. While a few faces offered a flicker of sympathy, the coldness in others mirrored Kathleen's grim façade.
Bracing herself for the inevitable barrage of questions, Grace sank into the witness stand, a solitary island in a sea of scrutiny. She steeled herself, a silent prayer forming on her lips - to maintain her composure under this suffocating pressure.
"Ms. D'Agostino," her attorney began, his voice calm yet firm. "Grace, you've undoubtedly heard a number of unsubstantiated claims in recent weeks. However, to ensure this trial remains focused on the facts at hand, I won't ask you to address every rumor the prosecution may have alluded to."
She struggled to maintain her focus on her attorney, her mind constantly drawn to Kathleen's composed figure seated beside her husband, her grip tight on his hand. She couldn't bring herself to meet Buck's gaze, anticipating the judgment she expected to find there. Yet, when her eyes inadvertently met his, she was taken aback by the warmth and concern reflected in his expression.
"Would you say you were the primary caregiver to the child?" Mr. Prescot began his questioning.
Grace met Mr. Prescott's gaze unflinchingly. "Yes, I was the primary caregiver," she replied, her voice firm. "There were even days when Kathleen wasn't present at all to tend to the child's needs."
"Objection." The prosecuting attorney shot her an angry look.
"Just the facts please." The Judge intervened.
"When was the last time you saw the infant?"
"I put Isaak to bed earlier that night." She recalled.
"And what did you do after that?"
"I went downstairs and sat by the fireplace. It was getting late, I remember the snow was falling fairly fast. I was thinking I couldn't wait until spring because as soon as the snow melted, I was going back home." Grace looked across the courtroom before she turned back to her attorney. "Kathleen came downstairs. We spoke a little, she asked when I was going home, then she accused me of having an affair with her husband."
"What did you tell her when she accused you of that?"
"I told her it was untrue."
"And did she believe you?"
"No, she insisted that was the entire reason I was there, to steal her husband. She told me that I was nothing but a half breed and she wanted me out of her home."
"She called you a half breed when her husband is half-blood Indian?"
The air in the courtroom grew thick, the silence pressing down like a physical weight. Grace squeezed her eyes shut, a surge of regret washing over her. The words had sprung from her lips unbidden, a blur blurted out in the heat of the moment. Steeling herself, she opened her eyes to meet Buck's gaze. His jaw was clenched, a storm brewing beneath the surface
"My father's family hailed from Italy." Grace began, her voice a touch softer than usual, "Whilst my mother mother's family, on the other hand, were Irish."
"Is that why you were arguing?"
"No." Grace smiled. "I've never been ashamed of my family."
"What started the argument?"
"She hurled a vase, sir." Grace's voice trembled slightly. "It shattered right next to me. I reacted out of pure fear, a few slaps, nothing more than to get her off. But her accusations are a monstrous exaggeration! She came at me like a wild animal, clawing and scratching. I couldn't break free, couldn't get any air! Finally, I managed to scramble away, but then – a searing pain in my head. Darkness. That's all I remember."
"So when you woke up, describe to everyone what you saw and what happened."
"The house was a disaster, I went upstairs Kathleen wasn't there but her room was in shambles. Torn linens, there was broken glass everywhere. I went to the baby's room, but his room was the same and he wasn't in the crib. I thought maybe there were thieves that broke in or something. By the time I got back downstairs the marshal and some men were there."
Taking a deep breath, Grace's attorney offered a sympathetic smile. "I understand that reliving those events must have been taxing. Now," he said, his voice firming slightly, "let's move forward. This silver box here," he tapped it with a finger for emphasis, "did you present this as a wedding gift to Mr. and Mrs. Cross?"
"No. I gave that to Kathleen many years before she met her husband."
"Did you have any knowledge as to what was inside the box?"
Grace's brow furrowed slightly. "Kathleen mentioned it was filled with spices Buck enjoyed." She explained, her voice soft. "She told me they too spicy and not to use them."
"Did you ever use them in your cooking?"
"No." Grace shook her head.
"Thank you." Her attorney turned towards the prosecutor.
Grace felt her pulse quicken as the prosecuting attorney made his way over to where she sat. She wanted to bolt from the courtroom and run until she couldn't run any longer.
The prosecutor's words hung heavy in the air. "Did you, Ms. D'Agostino," he began, his voice dripping with suspicion, "conspire with Mr. Cross to orchestrate this entire charade? An elaborate scheme to eliminate your unwanted responsibility and rid yourselves of Kathleen?"
Grace's breath hitched in her throat. Wide-eyed, she stared at the prosecutor, his accusation a physical blow. A flush crept up her neck, indignation warring with a surge of fear. "Of course not!" she finally managed, her voice trembling slightly.
"No further questions." the prosecutor snapped, his dismissal curt and dismissive, as if swatting away a bothersome insect.
Chapter 28
Dallas – Texas 1874
Jimmy had almost caught up with Buck outside the courthouse doors. Displeasure was etched across Buck's face, a dark cloud hanging over his features. Curiosity gnawed at him. What secrets had been revealed during the trial?
Buck, his jaw clenched tight, broke away from Kathleen's side and marched purposefully towards the saloon, leaving Jimmy trailing in his wake.
"What happened?" Jimmy finally blurted out, unable to contain his questions any longer.
Buck's reply was curt. "A lot." Jimmy steered Buck away from the bustling main street, a sense of urgency in his steps. Reaching his rented room above the saloon, Buck slammed the door shut behind them, shutting out the noise and creating a tense pocket of privacy.
"Please tell me you found something to clear this whole mess up," Buck pleaded, a flicker of desperation in his eyes.
Jimmy hesitated, then a wry smile played on his lips. "Well, Buck," he drawled, "let's just say I found a whole new mess." He tossed a stack of leather-bound books onto the bed with a heavy thud. A ledger, a worn diary, and several loose pages filled with spidery handwriting spilled out, their secrets waiting to be unraveled.
"Where was this?" Buck's sullen expression turned to complete and utter disbelief and horror.
"Under a floorboard in the bedroom." Jimmy said.
Buck felt sickened as he surveyed the pile of evidence Kathleen had been hoarding. The implications were chilling. Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he gazed out the window, his thoughts consumed by the storm of emotions brewing within him.
"I have to go." Buck grabbed the papers and books and stormed out.
Chapter 29
Dallas – Texas 1874
Kathleen twisted the lace handkerchief in her lap, its delicate tendrils a poor match for the storm brewing inside her. Buck slammed the door open, his face a mask of fury that sent a jolt of fear through her. The air crackled with his unspoken rage, and Kathleen instinctively flinched, bracing herself for the inevitable explosion.
"How long, Kathleen?" Buck roared, his voice barely controlled. "A woman's life hangs in the balance, and you play your little games?"
Kathleen's carefully constructed facade faltered. "I-I don't know what you're—"
"The lies stop now!" Buck thundered, cutting her off with a vicious snarl. He brandished a familiar object in his hand – Kathleen's personal journal. "Jimmy found what you were so desperately trying to hide."
"I can explain,"
Buck's voice, a taut wire vibrating with barely contained fury, ripped through the tense silence. "Explain this, Kathleen!" He didn't ask, he demanded. In his hand, he thrust the life insurance policy, the stark black lettering of his own name screaming an accusation across the room.
Kathleen's carefully constructed composure faltered, a flicker of raw shock flickering across her features. "It's not what it looks like—"
A flicker of something akin to desperation flashed in Buck's eyes, briefly before the rage consumed him whole. He lunged for Kathleen, his grip on her arm bruisingly tight. Her startled cry was cut short as he dragged her out of the hotel room, her pleas for explanation dissolving into panicked shrieks.
The deserted street echoed with her terror, the only response the crunch of gravel beneath their boots. Buck didn't relent, his face a mask of fury and betrayal, until they reached the imposing jailhouse doors. With a shove that sent her stumbling, he propelled her inside.
"You can let her out know, I found the real murderer. She's right here, damned herself with her own hand. She wrote it all down in her own record."
Once inside, he slammed a pile of damning evidence onto the sheriff's desk: the diary, the ledgers, the incriminating life insurance policy. Each item a testament to the deceit and treachery that had tainted their lives.
"Woah, calm down folks." The sheriff thumbed through the pages.
"She's the one that was poisoning me, she orchestrated this entire thing."
"No, it's not true! Can't you see? She planted all that!" Kathleen pointed at Grace.
A flicker of hope ignited in Grace's chest as she glimpsed the new evidence across the room. Could this finally be the key to her freedom? Her budding optimism was shattered in an instant. Kathleen's face contorted in a fury unlike Grace had never witnessed before. She saw the glint of the metal in her hand but it was too late.
Kathleen whipped out a pistol, aiming it straight at her. A deafening crack echoed through the cramped jailhouse, the smell of gunpowder stinging Grace's nostrils. A searing pain erupted in her shoulder, stealing her breath. The world dissolved into a slow-motion blur as crimson blossomed across her white blouse.
Buck's roar was a distant echo as he lunged across the room. He wrestled the gun from Kathleen's grasp, the clatter of the weapon hitting the floor. Grace's vision swam, the room tilting at a sickening angle. Legs buckling beneath her, she crumpled to the floor, the metallic tang of blood filling her mouth.
"Open this cell, now!" Buck bellowed, his voice laced with raw panic as he spotted Grace on the ground. A crimson stain spread rapidly across the floor beneath her.
"Get Doc Miller, quick!" One of the deputies scrambled for the keys, his face pale with shock.
"There's no time!" Buck roared, urgency twisting his features. He scooped Grace into his arms, ignoring her gasp of pain, and sprinted towards the direction the deputy had indicated.
"Just hold on Grace." Buck pounded on the doctor's door. "Please hang in there."
"Buck?" Grace's eyes fluttered open and looked up at him through a blurry haze.
"Shhhh, don't talk."
"You believe me." She smiled softly her eyes fluttering shut.
"I always did." He held her tightly and pounded on the door again.
"Buck—"
"Shhhh." He walked into the doctor's and laid her on the table.
"I do love you." She winced in pain and closed her eyes. "I don't want die and you not know that."
"Don't you talk like that. You are going to be fine." He yelled at her, his voice rising when he saw her losing consciousness.
"Help me cut her blouse here." The doctor handed him a pair of scissors. "Put pressure here."
Buck did as he was instructed until the doctor's assistant came downstairs and relieved him of his duties.
"What happened?" Armand burst through the door, followed by Jimmy.
"Kathleen shot her."
The doctor ordered them all outside while he tended to Grace. Buck fiddled with the torn blouse in his hands absentmindedly when his finger was pricked by something sharp. He unraveled the fabric and saw a small earring. He looked at the tiny golden bird.
The swallow from his vision.
"Is this Grace's?"
He took the little gold bird and smiled. "It's a swallow. They fly to the caves off the coast every spring."
Lost in introspection, Buck contemplated the recent events and traced it back to a pivotal moment: the day he saw Armand and Grace together on the beach. What if he hadn't turned around then? It was a question that haunted him now, as regret weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Chapter 30
Dallas – Texas 1874
Grace stole a glance at Armand, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of her emotions. Relief washed over her in waves – she was finally free. The carriage sped towards home, a place that now seemed both familiar and foreign. Yet, amidst the joy, a dull ache settled in her chest. Unspoken words hung heavy between her and Buck, a chasm left unbridged by their hurried goodbye.
She knew he remained in Texas, tethered to the unfolding drama with Kathleen. A mental asylum? The thought sent a cold dread through her. Would that be Kathleen's fate, locked away in a world of shadows? Grace couldn't help but wonder if Buck, too, harbored the same unsettling image. Perhaps, when this was all over, there would be time – time to mend the fractures, to unravel the tangled threads of their connection.
"What are you thinking about?" Armand broke through her thoughts.
"The warm beach, nights by the fire, mmmm warm tamales."
"Leave it to you to think of food." He laughed.
"It's been too long since I've had anything decent to eat." She shut her eyes and let her memories of home fill her mind.
"Dear sister, I don't know what I would have done if James hadn't found all that proof."
"Well, we will never need to know," she smiled, genuine warmth radiating from her.
"So there is something I've been meaning to tell you, but with everything going on it just wasn't the right time."
Grace leaned in, a sense of anticipation bubbling in her chest. The ordeal had taken its toll, but the prospect of good news filled her with a much-needed spark of hope.
"What's that?"
"There's someone I want you to meet when we get home."
"Mhmmm and who would that be?" Grace teased, a playful glint in her eyes.
"My fiancé." He announced, his voice filled with pride.
Grace's eyes widened in surprise. "What!?" she exclaimed, a mix of shock and delight coloring her tone. "Are you kidding me? Why didn't you tell me before?"
Armand offered a sheepish smile. "Things have been a little hectic."
The revelation spurred a flurry of questions. "Tell me all about her! Where did you meet? What's she like?"
Armand launched into the story, his face glowing as he described his fiance. With every detail, a picture of a kind, intelligent, and supportive woman emerged. Grace listened intently, a genuine smile playing on her lips. As she drifted off to sleep, thoughts of Armand's happiness and the prospect of a new family member filled her with a sense of peace and optimism for the future.
Chapter 31
Santa Barbara - California1874
Grace's smile widened as she met Helena's gaze across the vibrantly decorated pavilion. The candle light cast a warm glow on Helena, who seemed to radiate an ethereal beauty. Everything Armand had described paled in comparison to the breathtaking woman seated beside her.
Helena's hair, the color of spun sunshine, cascaded down her back in gentle waves, framing a face that could have been sculpted by an angel. Her eyes, a startling cerulean blue, sparkled with a warmth that instantly drew Grace in. There was an innocence in them, a genuine kindness that mirrored the way Armand had spoken of her.
Helena's smile, when it came, transformed her face completely. It wasn't just a polite gesture, but a genuine expression of joy that seemed to radiate outwards, warming everyone in its path. Grace felt an immediate connection with her new sister-in-law, a sense of kinship. In Helena, Grace saw not just Armand's fiance, but a friend, a confidante, a woman she couldn't wait to get to know better.
As the festivities continued, Grace wrapped a delicate white lace shawl around her shoulders and stepped out onto the veranda. The cool autum air provided a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the celebration. She watched the ocean waves crash against the shore, a peaceful melody amidst the excitement of the day.
Lost in thought, Grace was startled when she felt a warm hand on her arm. Turning, she was surprised to see Buck standing beside her. Despite the unexpected encounter, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.
"Grace."
"What are you doing here?" She asked breathlessly.
"I have something of yours." He said, offering it to her.
Grace's eyes widened in delight as she took the earring from him. "I thought I lost it," she admitted with a smile. "You did not need to come all this way to bring it to me though."
Buck shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "That's not the only reason I came."
Curiosity mixed with concern flickered in Grace's eyes as she asked, "What happened to her?"
"She's in an asylum, and let that be the last we ever speak of her." Buck's response was terse.
"Fair enough."
The afternoon sun cast long shadows as they walked, dappling the pathway with light. Grace couldn't tear her gaze from Buck. He seemed to emanate a newfound vitality. The weariness that had etched lines on his face was replaced by a healthy flush, and his broad shoulders, previously slumped with the weight of worry, were now squared with a quiet confidence. His dark hair, windswept from their walk, framed eyes the color of rich brown hues and flashes of gold. Those eyes, usually guarded, now held a glint that sent a shiver down her spine – a spark that ignited a forgotten yearning deep within her.
"How have you been? You look..." Grace's voice trailed off, searching for the right word. He did look well, undeniably so. "You look really well." She finally managed, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
Buck's gaze softened as it met hers. "I've been well." He replied, his voice a low rumble that sent a tremor through her. "I had to take care of things before I came out here. Loose ends, you know."
"I understand." She nodded with understanding.
"I'm sorry I didn't see you before you left Texas." A hint of a wry smile played on his lips.
"It's alright." Grace murmured, her voice barely a whisper. The memory of the raw panic, the searing pain, and the blurry rush to the doctor flooded back, momentarily stealing her breath. "I never did get a chance to thank you for getting me to the doctor," she said, forcing herself to focus on the present. "You saved my life, Buck."
"You never have to thank me for that." Suddenly, Buck halted and turned to face her. With a gentle touch, he brushed her cheek as their eyes locked in a tender gaze. "I sold the house, the ranch, and all the land." He announced, his voice carrying a weight of determination and resolve.
"What?" Grace's mouth opened in surprise.
"I figured it was time to start fresh." Buck explained, his tone steady and resolute. He gently lifted her chin, meeting her gaze. "You think California is a good place to put down roots?"
Grace's pulse quickened at Buck's bold move, her cheeks flushing with a mix of excitement and anticipation. Without a word, he removed his hat, a silent invitation. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers in a soft, lingering kiss that sent shivers throughout her body. The warmth of his touch ignited a fire within her, and she melted into his embrace, her heart racing.
A wave of passion washed over them, each kiss deeper and more intense than the last. Buck's hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as they lost themselves in the moment. With every touch, every caress, they felt a connection that transcended all the pain they had endured, a longing that had been building between them for so long.
Their kisses grew more urgent, fueled by a raw desire that burned between them. His fingers ran through her hair, pulling her closer as he savored the taste of her on his lips. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of them.
When they finally pulled apart, their breaths ragged and hearts pounding, Grace looked up at Buck with a mixture of pure love and desire. In his eyes, she saw a reflection of her own yearning, a silent promise whispered in the wake of their kiss. The weight of the past seemed to lift from them, replaced by a newfound sense of hope and possibility. There were unspoken questions, lingering doubts about the future, but for now, all that mattered was the warmth of his touch and the knowledge that nothing could truly keep them apart anymore
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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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