McKenzie (22 page)

“I’m sorry I can’t give you large diamond rings or servants, McKenzie,” Zach said. I can’t give you a fancy house and carriage rides. I’ll never be a doctor; I’d rather work the land than do anything else, even if it means I’ll never be wealthy. I can’t give you all those things, but I can give you my love.”

“I don’t want those things anymore—not really,” McKenzie said, and she meant it. “I like the ring that you gave me. I didn’t at first, but I like it now. It was your mother’s, and I know how important she was to you. To know that you would entrust me with something so valuable to you….” McKenzie paused. Although she’d become comfortable with Zach over the past month, it was still difficult for her to bare her soul to him, especially when she knew doing so would make her departure more painful. “I don’t care about carriages, either. I know that you fixed that hole in the road on my second day here, so the trip to town by wagon is not nearly as uncomfortable as it was.” McKenzie smiled at Zach. “I think that, with some creative touches, this house will be just fine. And I’m glad you’re not a doctor. I don’t imagine Louis spends much time at home, as he’s constantly called upon to treat patients at the hospital. Thinking I was in love with him was an idea—a daydream.”

“I’m glad, McKenzie. Because I don’t want to have to compete with another man.”

“You don’t have to, Zach.” She looked up at Zach and yearned for him to kiss her. There was something about the tenderness in his lips that lent proof to his words. She felt safe and secure in his arms, protected from anything that might threaten the love that was beginning to blossom within her. Protected from everything except the decision she had made before she’d ever entered into Zach’s life.

McKenzie’s heart grew heavy at the thought of walking away from this new life—and from Zach. But she knew it must be done. She could no more stay in Pine Haven for the rest of her life than Zach could survive in Boston society. One thing was certain: she could not walk away from the life she knew in Boston, not when she had finally found Kaydie. They both belonged in a world that was a long train ride away. They belonged to a lifestyle so different from the one McKenzie was beginning to embrace. She was scared to admit it, but she had changed—in her thoughts, in her actions, and in her priorities. The thought of leaving and the thought of staying troubled her equally. Never had she felt more comfortable and accepted than she had since coming to Pine Haven. But nowhere did she belong more than in Boston.

Zach took his hands from McKenzie’s waist and reached up to cup her face. Leaning even closer, he kissed her with what felt like all the love in his heart. Oh, how she longed to let herself love him! What was she to do?

As often happened when Darius was about to rob a bank, or whenever the law was about to finally close in on him, Kaydie Kraemer felt anxiety spread through her from head to toe. As he did every time he was about to execute his plan, Darius gave strict instructions to Kaydie, this time as they stood near a clump of trees half a mile outside of town.

“Now, Kaydie, you wait in town and act like nothing is happening. I’m going to get the loot and ride to that shack we stayed in last night. You wait awhile, and then drive the wagon out there. Make sure no one is following you. If someone follows you, head back to town. Once you get to the shack, we’ll leave.” Darius flung his head back, making his curly, brown hair to bounce above his collar.

Kaydie nodded at Darius and stared at him, as if to memorize his face. Something inside her felt more unsettled than usual, though she couldn’t identify why. Darius’s hair was slicked from his forehead, calling attention to his prominent nose and his beady eyes. This made it easier to affix his bandanna behind his head, which was important, since he was well-known in some parts of the West for his robbery schemes. His black shirt, thinning from overuse, revealed strong shoulders, yet his developing potbelly protruded over the waistband of his trousers to such an extent that suspenders were necessary to hold his pants up. Kaydie thought of the man Darius once was—a handsome man with short hair and a fit body. He’d since let his appearance suffer for the sake of changing his features to throw off law enforcement agents and vigilantes who studied artists’ renditions on wanted posters.

“I mean it, Kaydie. Don’t do anything to call attention to us.”

“I won’t, Darius,” Kaydie promised. She wished he would have let her stay at the shack this time. She wasn’t feeling well, and it seemed safer there. Instead, he’d insisted that she follow him to a town known as Wheeler. So great was her fear of Darius that she did whatever he demanded; even though it made her heart race with dread, it was a better alternative than disobeying Darius and suffering the consequences. He’d threatened to kill her more times than she could count, and her hopes of ever escaping from his clutches had been washed away, just like the promises made on their wedding day.

If Kaydie managed to make a getaway, she wouldn’t get far—she had no money for travel expenses. And even if she somehow found a way to get to Boston for free, he had convinced her that her family had disowned her and would never welcome her back into the Worthington home. For a while, she’d hoped that her sister McKenzie would do something to rescue her, but it seemed that Darius was right. No such effort had been made, and Kaydie was beginning to believe that she would be in her loveless marriage and lawless life forever.

Darius pulled his bandanna over his face and fingered two guns, one holstered on each side in the gun belt around his waist. “This one should be easy,” he snarled. “I staked it out yesterday, and there was only one teller. Talk about foolish!” Darius snickered, shaking his head. “But their foolishness is my gain.” He mounted his horse and rode off toward the town. Kaydie waited until she could no longer see him, then set off in the same direction in the wagon.

After Kaydie parked the wagon across the street from the bank, she sat down on a bench nearby. People bustled up and down the street, and several of them nodded at her. She thought that this was one of the largest towns they’d encountered so far. She pulled her bonnet more tightly around her face, then reached down and gently rubbed her stomach. By now, she was confident that her suspicions were correct. She was pregnant. She’d lain awake many a night and pondered how she could or would care for a child under Darius’s oppression. It was likely that if he discovered her condition, he would be less than thrilled. She’d learned in her years of marriage to Darius that he cared only about himself, and that his selfishness and self-centeredness would preclude him from ever loving the baby growing within her.

Kaydie straightened her posture and focused her gaze across the street at the bank. By now, Darius would have demanded that the hapless teller lock the door and open the safe. She knew by heart his methods and his plan of attack. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d accompanied him on his “jobs.” In a minute, Darius would flee through the front door, climb on his horse, and leave Wheeler behind. In his clutches would be the loot that he so desperately craved—and so quickly spent on liquor and gambling. So little was saved for the necessities of life, such as food. Kaydie imagined that by nightfall, they would be in another town, where Darius would be celebrating yet another victory with round after round of brandy and bourbon.

“Hello, dear,” said an elderly woman, who sat down beside Kaydie.

“Hello,” Kaydie answered, knowing her voice was barely audible. She suddenly realized how thirsty she was. She would do anything for a glass of Nellie’s lemonade to quench her dry throat on this late-August day.

“Are you all alone?” the woman asked.

“Yes,” Kaydie said. She rationalized that her response was not a lie in entirety—she was alone in the world, even though she had a husband. She could hardly count Darius as someone who satisfied her loneliness.

“I was just thinking about having a nice, cold glass of water. Would you like some?”

“Umm, no, thank you,” Kaydie answered, knowing that she wasn’t supposed to be talking to strangers. If Darius saw her, he’d unleash his wrath.

“Are you sure?” the woman asked. “I see that you are with child. You must drink plenty of water and get extra nourishment.”

Kaydie was stunned. How did the woman know about her condition? Kaydie turned her head to stare at her. She had the whitest yet most beautiful hair Kaydie had ever seen. A delicate, gold chain with a beautiful cross suspended from it encircled her neck, and she wore a simple, sensible brown dress. She was petite, like Kaydie, and had the greenest eyes—a true green, like the color of the Montana meadows in early spring. Fine wrinkles etched her face, and they deepened as she smiled and gently pressed Kaydie’s arm. “I really don’t care for any water, but thank you, anyway,” Kaydie said.

“All right, then; I’ll get one for myself and be right back.” The woman left and returned a moment later with two cups of water. “I thought you might change your mind. It’s quite a hot day.”

Kaydie couldn’t resist the cold water, and she held out her hand to accept the cup. As she bent her head and took a sip, Kaydie thought it tasted even better than Nellie’s lemonade, and she knew it would soothe her parched throat. As she leaned down to take another sip, she heard a loud bang and almost spilled the water all over her lap. Her head jerked up, and she watched as Darius fell from his horse and landed on the hard earth. Trailing him was a man wearing a sheriff’s badge, his gun still smoking.

Kaydie gasped and jumped up from the bench, tossing her cup of water to the side as she ran into the middle of the street, where people had begun to gather around the fallen body. The sheriff had pulled the mask away from Darius’s face, and Kaydie fell to her knees at his side, staring into his lifeless eyes. “D-Darius?” she stammered. For a minute, her heart seemed to stop.

“Ma’am, do you know this man?” the sheriff asked her.

“He’s—he’s m-my husband,” Kaydie said, not even thinking of the implications that might come to someone who revealed her identity as a bank robber’s wife.

“He just tried to rob the bank. I’m afraid he’s dead.”

“Dead?” Kaydie asked.

“I’m afraid so, ma’am. He brandished his weapon, and I was obligated to shoot.”

“I’m free, then?” Kaydie said.

“Free?” The sheriff stared at her. “Were you involved in the attempted robbery, ma’am?”

“N-no, I wasn’t. I—I mean, am I free to live my life now?” Kaydie glanced up into the faces of strangers and suddenly felt uneasy. Where would she go? Who could she turn to? Would her life be better now, or worse?

“Yes, you’re free to live your life now,” the sheriff said, patting Kaydie gently on the back.

“Thank you,” Kaydie said. No tears fell from her eyes; only a sigh of relief welled up within her.

“Do you have anywhere to go? Any family in the area?” the sheriff asked her.

Before she could answer, a woman’s voice said, “She’s staying with me for the time being, Sheriff.”

Kaydie turned to see the petite, white-haired woman who had offered her a drink of water. She didn’t know who she was; she knew only that, because of an incident that happened less than five minutes ago, she would no longer be in bondage to a man she’d grown to despise. She would no longer have to suffer his relentless acts of cruelty. She would be free to raise her baby without fearing the brutality of a man who saw her as more of a slave than a wife. “Thank you,” she whispered to the woman.

The sheriff helped Kaydie to her feet. “We’ll see that your husband gets a proper burial, ma’am,” he said.

“All right,” Kaydie said. She still couldn’t believe how drastically her life had changed in an instant. The woman took her hand, and Kaydie let herself be led away. She turned around one last time to glance at Darius’s lifeless body, as if to be sure she was free. Blood was still spurting from his wound, and one of his hands was clenched in a fist; the other hand held a gun. He’d undoubtedly believed he could draw faster than the sheriff. Darius had chosen one too many banks to rob. His due had come. And, in that due coming to him, freedom had come to Kaydie—both physical and emotional. Yet, for the first time, Kaydie did not know what lay ahead for her. However, she decided that not knowing what lay ahead of her was better than thinking she knew and being wrong, as she’d been when she’d married Darius.

Happy birthday, dear Davey, happy birthday to you!” sang the chorus of voices to the youngest member of the Sawyer household.

“Blow out the candles, Davey,” McKenzie urged him. This birthday party was turning out to be a bigger thrill to her than to the birthday boy, it seemed.

Davey leaned over the chocolate cake and blew out the five candles that topped it, bringing applause from the adults around him. “Is that lollipop mine?” Davey asked.

“That’s the surprise I was telling you would be on the top of your cake, in addition to the bits of crushed candy,” McKenzie said.

“It’s all mine?” Davey asked. His eyes grew big as he focused on the five-inch-in-diameter lollipop with concentric swirls of yellow, purple, green, and blue.

“All yours,” McKenzie answered, beaming. “It’s a special one—you’ll never see the likes of that type of lollipop in Granger’s Mercantile. It came all the way from Boston.”

McKenzie watched as Davey pulled the lollipop out of the top of the cake and eagerly peeled off the wrapper. If she had already found Kaydie, she would have missed seeing Davey’s joy at receiving something as simple as a lollipop. If she had already found Kaydie, she would have missed the loving hug between Zach and Davey when Zach presented Davey with a fishing rod. If she had already found Kaydie and headed back to Boston, she would have missed out on this camaraderie with Zach, Davey, Rosemary, Asa, and Jonah. Although she still hoped to find her sister as soon as possible, McKenzie realized that she wouldn’t have wanted to miss this occasion for anything. Such warm celebrations were few and far between, in her experience.

“One more gift, Davey,” McKenzie said. She pulled a small present wrapped in brown paper from its hiding place under the table and handed it to Davey.