A Quiet Life Read online

  ~~ ~~

  Grace Lawley awoke slowly. Her head was pounding and her lips felt dry and cracked. She was hot all over. She seemed to be in a bed, but she couldn’t move her legs at all. Was she bound? She hadn’t opened her eyes yet and already knew she wouldn’t recognize where she was. Nothing felt familiar. The pain and fog in her head made it difficult to think straight, made it difficult to think at all. Where was she? And why couldn’t she move her legs? They were sore and needed to shift.

  Slowly, she began to force her eyes open. The room was dimly lit by morning or evening sun. She couldn’t identify which it was. She was in a bedroom, one she had never seen before. The walls were bare wood and the floor, too. The furnishings were plain and there was a strange man in the chair next to her. His head lolled to the side in sleep. Was he her captor or her guard or… She needed to move her legs.

  Grace sat up enough to push the quilt down. She was wrapped in a second blanket that had twisted tightly around her legs. She kicked at it and tugged until she was able to move her legs a few inches. That was enough. She left the quilt where it was. She was asleep again almost as soon as her head landed on the pillow.

  A cool sensation on her forehead woke her a second time. The relief it brought was wonderful. But she remembered being in an unknown room. She was more alert this time because the knowledge of a strange man sitting beside her caused alarm. She opened her eyes again and this time the man was awake and looking at her. But it wasn’t the same man. This one had curly hair rather than straight, though he was as badly in need of a shave as the first man. The concern in his eyes made him look friendly. She still felt herself startle when he whispered, “Miss?”

  Grace tried to remember. She had been traveling with a cattle drive. She had gotten sick. Now a stranger was at her bedside and it wasn’t her bed.

  “Miss?” he said again.

  She wasn’t sure she could talk. She tried to wet her lips but the inside of her mouth was just as dry.

  The man picked up a tin cup. “Can I give you some water?”

  She wanted it desperately. As she tried to sit up to take it, the man reached a hand under her head and held her while he used the other hand to put the cup to her lips. She took a huge gulp and began coughing. The man pulled the cup back and waited for her to stop before he offered her more. He helped her finish the cup and lay her back on the pillow. He picked up a rag, dipped it in a basin nearby and wrung it out before he put it back on her forehead. The sensation made her more comfortable, physically. She was still confused and not sure how distressed to be at her situation.

  “Can you talk, Miss?” the man asked.

  She nodded. She didn’t know what to say or which questions to ask first.

  “My name’s Justus Baker, Miss. I won’t hurt you. Can you tell me your name?”

  Grace nodded. She knew her name and she wanted to tell him. She couldn’t seem to figure out how to get herself to do that.

  “More water?” he asked.

  She nodded again. Maybe that would help.

  He stood up and said, “Wait here,” before he left the room.

  Was that a request or a command or a threat? It didn’t much matter as she was too weak to get out of bed. It would matter soon though. She needed to figure out what was going on. She was going to close her eyes for one more minute before she asked though.

  ~~ ~~

  Matthias was tending the horses when his brother came into the barn. The look of panic on Justus’ face worried him. He put down the shovel. “Has she taken a turn for the worse?”

  “She’s awake.”

  “Well, that’s good. Has she said much?”

  Justus shook his head. “She seems alert, but won’t talk. I think the shock of finding herself in a strange room with a strange man is too much for her so I came to get you to explain things to her.”

  “Because you thought adding a second strange man would improve the situation?”

  “It’ll improve the situation for me. Come on.” Justus gave an impatient jerk of his head.

  “Let me just wash up and I’ll be in.”

  “Don’t be all day.”

  Justus went back in the house and Matthias washed quickly so he could follow him. His brother was standing outside the bedroom door like a child afraid to face up to something. Matthias felt suddenly nervous about approaching their guest as well. How dismaying would she find the situation? Would there be tears? They wouldn’t know how to handle tears.

  He took the cup of water from Justus and entered the room first. His brother nearly ran into his back when he stopped short. She was asleep. “You said she was awake,” he whispered over his shoulder.

  “She was awake.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “Let her sleep.”

  Matthias was ready to agree that conversation could be delayed when the woman’s eyes fluttered open. She had heard their whispering. He walked forward and took the closer chair. Her eyes were flickering back and forth between them and to the doorway as though she might be wondering if anyone else would join them. “Water?” he said as he offered the cup.

  She was able to sit up enough to drink it by herself but he kept his hand on the cup because he wanted to help.

  “I’m Matthias Baker. That’s my brother Justus. This is our house and we’re the only ones here. We… uh… you arrived unexpectedly last night with a Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell. Do you remember them? Can you tell me your name?”

  He waited patiently for some response.

  The young woman tried to say something that came out as a croak. She cleared her throat and said, “Grace Lawley.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Lawley. I know you’re feeling poorly so we won’t ask you to talk right now. But like I said, your arrival was unexpected so we’re… rather curious about you and… where you’re headed and the like.” Matthias ran his hand through his unkempt hair and over his stubbly face. He didn’t know if he was helping or further upsetting her with his rambling speech. “We’re going to leave you alone to rest. Just know that you’re safe here and we’ll check on you in a bit. Maybe bring you some more water or some soup later if you think you could eat it.”

  He watched for signs of understanding or maybe a sign that she did want to talk. She probably had questions, too. She gave a weak smile and said, “Thank you, Mr. Baker.” Her eyes blinked a few times. The poor thing was clearly worn out. “I’m afraid I…” She shifted the rag on her head.

  Matthias shoved his brother towards the door of the room. “We’ll leave you to rest,” he said as he followed and closed the door behind himself.

  Once they were alone, Justus gave him a worried look. “She’s definitely on the mend,” he said.

  Matthias nodded slowly.

  “She’s quiet so far.”

  “She is.”

  “Do you reckon that’ll change?”

  “How should I know?” Matthias snapped. He didn’t have the patience to listen to speculations when he liked clear answers. He had no idea what to make of this woman. How was she going to respond to being stranded with them?

  Justus shrugged off the flash of temper. “I just hope we don’t find out they wanted her off the trail because she’s some sort of miserable harpy.”

  That somehow seemed unlikely to Matthias. He did not address his brother’s concern. He said, “Let’s breakfast since we’re in the house. We’ll leave her in peace until midday and then go in together to see if she’s ready to eat or maybe talk.”

  ~~ ~~

  The pain in her head had lessened when Grace next opened her eyes. The sun was coming in the window much brighter than before and she was damp all over with sweat. The bed suddenly felt confining. She sat up slowly, partly to ward off wooziness and partly because her legs were still wrapped in a blanket. She managed to get herself untangled and sitting on the edge of the bed. Now that her head was clearer, she needed to do some serious thinking.

  The Mitchells had abandoned her. She knew
they weren’t happy about being in charge of her but she never dreamed they’d leave her – while she was ill and had no say – in the hands of…

  What sort of men were these brothers she’d met only briefly? What were their intentions when they took her in? One thing was certain; she needed to make herself more presentable before she began to find out. Her hair was in tangles and a stain on the sleeve of her nightdress said that she’d vomited on herself at some point. And regardless of any remaining effects of the illness, she couldn’t talk to strange men until she was properly dressed.

  Grace was weak but able to walk around. She moved both of the chairs in the room to block the door before she sought out fresh clothing. The spindly wooden chairs wouldn’t keep the men out if they were set on entering, but she felt better knowing she’d have some warning.

  Her trunk was in the room with her. She knelt next to it before she opened it. Tears sprang to her eyes as she did so. It was not neat and orderly as she kept it and the mess could not be explained by jostling or dropping. Someone had rummaged through her belongings. Someone had stolen from her. Someone had left her with a few clean dresses and almost nothing else. Even the picture of her mama had been torn from its frame, the corner bent in the haste to remove it.

  Surely it was the Mitchells who had done this. There were only two possibilities and suspecting her hosts was too terrifying to consider. She was completely at their mercy and she didn’t dare to believe they’d had any part in that.

  Grace pushed the tears from her face with her fingers and tried to be brave. She pulled out a blue calico dress and laid it out along with everything else she’d need to dress. She wanted to change as quickly as possible.

  Once she was dressed, she used the rag that had been cooling her head to clean off her face and neck. The water brought relief from the lingering fever and a rumbling in her stomach meant she could soon call herself recovered. There was a small mirror and dressing table in the corner of the room. Grace moved to sit in front of it, knowing there wouldn’t be much she could do. Even her hairbrush had been taken. When she saw the mess of blond hair snarled around her shoulders, she began to cry in earnest. It was either childish or just plain stupid to fall apart over her appearance after holding herself together when she’d discovered all her money was gone.

  She looked in the mirror and told herself as much. The lecture stopped the tears and she began to untangle her hair as best she could with her fingers. She managed to twist it into a decent-looking knot just as she heard a faint knock on the door.

  Her face reddened at the thought of the chairs still in front of the door. Acting frightened of the men after they’d sat at her sickbed felt insulting. She tried to quietly move the chairs to their former positions. Another soft knock was followed by a softer voice saying her name. Grace inhaled a deep steadying breath and opened the door. Both of the men were there and they jumped backwards as though perhaps they were the ones afraid of her.

  “Miss Lawley,” the man in front said, “we didn’t expect to find you up and about. I hope you’re not exerting yourself.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Baker, I…” She had some difficulty finishing the sentence as she appreciated the fact that this man was quite nice to look at and that his unwavering blue eyes seemed to be thinking the same of her in a respectful, almost reverent manner. She would not fear him again. But she still felt less vulnerable in this new situation out of bed and fully clothed. “I might lie down again after a while.”

  “Perhaps a bite to eat first? We’re not great cooks but a little something in your belly might give you some strength.”

  “I gladly accept your offer. Though I hope if I eat very little it can be attributed to the illness and not your cooking.”

  He flashed a smile and his teeth were slightly crooked, as though they were too nervous to line up for the occasion. Then he backed up quickly to let her out of the bedroom and stepped on his brother’s foot. The brother who had been stepped on apologized to her, apparently for getting stepped on, and took several extra steps backward before he gestured to the table.

  Outside the bedroom, Grace found a larger room with a stove and table and chairs on one side and a fireplace and rocking chair on the other. One of the brothers pulled out a chair for her at the table and the other placed a bowl of soup in front of her. The scent in the rising steam awakened a bit more of her appetite. The men got food for themselves and one of them gave a short blessing. Then they both looked at her.

  She had no spoon. She was about to open her mouth when both men held out their spoons to her. She took the closer one and that man quickly fetched himself a replacement. Then they both looked at her again.

  Grace dipped the spoon into the bowl and very self-consciously put some soup into her mouth. She thought it had more salt than necessary but was otherwise quite good. The men began eating quickly. In fact, she felt as though she’d had no more than a few bites when they both got up to refill their bowls.

  “Mr. Baker,” Grace said after a time. Both men turned their heads to her and she realized that she wasn’t sure which one she meant to address. Perhaps both of them, perhaps whichever one could tell her what she was supposed to do now that she’d been stranded with them. “I want to thank you both for your kindness in taking me in. I’m afraid… That is to say… I’m unaware of the circumstances or terms that may have transpired between you and the Mitchells.”

  She wanted to ask if they had any intention of coming back for her or if there was a plan to send her on her way. She knew there couldn’t be and yet she felt no disappointment.

  One of the men nodded at her. Grace wished she could remember the names he’d said earlier. This one seemed to be in charge so he was likely the older brother. “Miss Lawley,” he said, “I understand how distressing you must find this situation and I don’t wish to add to your discomfort. I must speak plainly to the circumstances though.” He spoke somewhat quickly as though delivering a rehearsed speech. “Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell did not give us a chance to refuse. They felt you would likely die and make further arrangements straightforward. Since that event now seems thankfully to be avoided, Justus and I want to make you as comfortable as possible while you are here. We’ve already moved some essentials to the barn where we’ll be sleeping tonight. You can bar the door.” He gestured towards the front of the house. “I’m sure you’re anxious to be on your way though now that you’re recovered. If you’re willing to leave the trunk and pack your essentials in saddlebags, we could leave at first light and catch up to the drive by nightfall. If you can ride, that is.”

  The tears came unexpectedly. Grace pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve to dry her face. She was a fair rider and the offer to escort her back to her journey should have brought relief. Instead, it made her realize how badly she wanted to stay. She’d been trying to find a place for herself ever since her mama died. Somehow this pair of strangers felt more welcoming than any place yet and they didn’t want her either. She had no right to ask them for a home, even if it wouldn’t inconvenience them to the point of leaving their own beds at night. She dabbed her eyes and tried to respond to the offer.

  Mr. Baker spoke again before she could say anything. “I’m sorry, Miss Lawley. It was unthinking of me to suggest a day of hard riding so soon after you’ve been ill. Perhaps we can think of something else. Where are you headed?”

  “My sister lives near enough Cheyenne that she and her family were going to collect me from there.”

  “You could catch a stage from town but that’s a three-day trip in the wagon.” He stopped and gave a slightly pained expression. He clearly thought that wouldn’t work for the same reason he planned to give up his bedroom. Someone so concerned with her reputation couldn’t possibly have stolen from her. He – or they – deserved to know how truly dependant she was on their charity.

  “If we’re being plain,” Grace said, “I should tell you… When I opened my trunk to dress I discovered that I no longer possess anything of value
.” She cast her eyes to the table. “I have no money for a stage and no way to repay your kindness.”

  Both of her hosts put down their spoons with surprising force that caused Grace to look up again. Justus said, “Even if they were feelin’ behind, they wouldn’t have pushed more than twenty miles in a day.”

  The other man gave a slow nod. “I could catch ‘em on Goliath in a few hours.” He gave Grace a determined look. “How much do they owe you?”

  His gallantry stirred something in Grace’s chest. Or perhaps it was the steadiness his bright blue eyes poured into her. “Mr. Baker, I appreciate the offer but… I don’t believe that would do much good.”

  An unspoken understanding seemed to pass between the two brothers. Justus rubbed his chin a bit before he said, “You seem to think your accusation against Mr. Mitchell wouldn’t hold much sway?”

  “He was respected by the men. When he made it clear that my presence was a nuisance, the others treated me as such. And I believe he spread rumors. They would likely believe I lied to you about the money.”

  “Money would be difficult to identify as yours.” The bright blue bore into her again. “Did they take anything more personal? Something that would offer proof.”

  “Nothing worth your time or risk to retrieve.”

  “Are you certain? That man should be exposed for the callous thief… stealing from a woman too ill to…” His words contained more outrage than Grace could muster, perhaps because she was still feeling weak, but he seemed to tamp it down before he spoke again. “I won’t act on your behalf without your permission.”

  “Please don’t… I…” Grace was at a complete loss. Part of her did want Mr. Mitchell to know that she was aware of his actions even if Mr. Baker could not reclaim her money. But it would be a long ride for him that would put her even more in his debt. Most of all, however, he was just being so nice for yet another person who wanted to get rid of her. She pulled out her handkerchief as the tears fell again.