Tracie Peterson (6 page)

Chapter 9

D
aughtry felt November’s chill air breathe down her damp back. She was working to pull out the last of the brush that had once surrounded her house. Rising up and stretching, Daughtry relished the sun, mild as it was, and put her face upward to catch every single ray. Winter was soon to be upon them and, by all the signs, Daughtry feared it might be a difficult one.

Nicholas watched his wife from his vantage point in the barn loft. She grew more beautiful every day, and every day he knew he loved her more. How good of God to throw them together. He observed her as she went back to work, thinking back to the day they’d gone to the post office and mailed the letter to her father and mother.

“I don’t think I can do this, Nicholas,” she had said in a pleading tone that begged him to let her forget the whole thing.

“You have to,” he’d insisted firmly. “Nothing bad will come of it, Daughtry. If your folks come here, they’ll see how happy you are, and they won’t even want you to leave.”

At least Nicholas hoped things would work out that way. He continued to watch Daughtry, but he was thinking now of his own parents. They’d be livid if he’d pulled such a stunt, but then they were always critical of the choices he’d made in life. If it weren’t for them, however, he might never have met and married Daughtry, and that would have been a pity.

Turning his attention back to the work at hand, Nicholas was surprised when Daughtry called up to him in a frantic voice.

“Nicholas! Someone’s coming!”

Like he’d done as a child, Nicholas jumped from the loft to the stacked bales of hay, then to the floor of the barn. He bounded out quickly to note the three horseback riders approaching from the west.

“Oh, Nick,” Daughtry whimpered. “I just know it’s my father and brothers.”

“At least he only brought two,” Nicholas said with a smile. “Go on in the house. You wait there for me, and I’ll talk to them first. You’ll see, Daughtry. It’s going to be all right.”

❧

Daughtry did as she was told, not because she felt overly obedient, but because she was a coward. She had no desire to hear the things her father would no doubt have to say to her husband. “Why, God?” she prayed aloud. “Why couldn’t I have just done things the right way?”

In only a matter of minutes, angry voices rang loud and clear. Daughtry tried to cover her ears, not wanting to know what was said. What if her father said something really ugly? What if Nicholas refused to let them see her?

Daughtry started to pace. A part of her was certain that she should go outside and try to smooth over the situation. Maybe once her father saw how happy she had become and how wonderful Nicholas truly was, he’d let things be and go back home.

She reached for the door, just as things quieted considerably. A horse whinnied nervously, and Daughtry pulled back. Nicholas had told her to wait inside. She at least had to show him that she could follow his instructions. She might have misled him regarding her family, but that was all behind her now and she wanted to be a good wife.

Just as she’d convinced herself that everything was going to be all right, shots rang out, and Daughtry felt her knees turn to jelly.

“They’ve killed each other!” she gasped and ran to the window.

Outside, two men lay on the ground holding their bleeding arms, while one man remained on his horse with his hands raised high in the air. Daughtry didn’t recognize any of them. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned her attention to her husband.

Nicholas stood with his feet fixed and a rifle leveled at the third man. The rage in his face was terrifying, and Daughtry saw blind hatred in his eyes. She stared at her husband’s face and thought,
Who is this man?
He certainly didn’t resemble the gentle one she’d married. Daughtry clutched her apron to her mouth to keep from screaming.

Her mind whirled. Who were these men and why had Nicholas shot them? Furthermore, where had he gotten the rifle to do the deed? She’d never seen a gun of any kind on the grounds, although she wouldn’t have been surprised had there been one.

Staring at the scene outside her house, Daughtry couldn’t hear a word that was being said. She watched the third man dismount from his horse and stare down the barrel of Nicholas’s rifle. She couldn’t watch anymore.

Daughtry moved to the far end of the house and cowered in the corner. She was wavering between tears and out-and-out hysteria. The more she thought about the scene, the more frightened she felt. A nervous laugh escaped her as she shook her head. Had Nicholas killed the two men? She sobbed and drew a ragged breath. Suddenly, she felt more terrified than she’d ever been in her life. She would have gladly welcomed the sight of her father and brothers at that moment, but she knew she could hope for no such reprieve.

The kitchen door banged, and Daughtry knew someone had come into the house. Trembling, she backed into the corner even tighter.

“Daughtry!” Nicholas called out to her as he moved from room to room. “Daughtry, where are you?” His voice sounded worried, almost panicked.

When he came into the front room, he sighed when he saw her. “Why didn’t you answer me? Are you okay?”

Daughtry couldn’t say a word. She stared at him, trying to force herself to calm down. It was an impossible task.

“Daughtry, come here, Honey. It’s all right now.”

Daughtry shook her head, not really seeing him. She saw instead the man who’d held the rifle in black rage. She saw a killer in her mind and felt her breath quicken.

Nicholas stepped forward with his arms extended. When he came to her, Nicholas reached out his hands to pull her into his arms. Daughtry went wild.

“No!” she screamed and fought his grasp. “Don’t touch me!” She doubled up her fists and flailed them in the air at his face and chest.

With stunned realization, Nicholas understood that Daughtry was terrified of him, not the men he’d tied up in the barn.

As gently as he could, Nicholas pinned her arms to her side and physically carried her to the sofa. Daughtry was crying and yelling incoherently, begging him not to hurt her. Nicholas thought he’d die inside.

“It’s all right, Daughtry. Honey, don’t do this,” he whispered. Holding her against him with one arm, he began to stroke her face with his other hand. “Daughtry!” He nearly yelled the name, and she immediately settled.

Raising her blue eyes to meet his dark, almost black ones, Daughtry couldn’t hide the fear she felt. All of her foolishness in running away, marrying, and hiding here with a stranger had suddenly come home to her. Gasping for breath, she strained against his touch, while at the same time she heard his gentle words.

“Daughtry, those men are outlaws—a part of my past catching up with me. They meant to hurt us. I only did what I had to do in order to protect us. I was only defending myself.”

Daughtry let the words sink in. Reason drove out the fear, and she began to relax in his hold. “Who—who—” she stammered, “are they?”

“It’s not important. They’re wanted by the law, and later I’ll take them into the sheriff. I have them tied up in the barn and they can’t hurt you.” He softened his expression and loosened his hold ever so slightly. “But then, you aren’t really worried about them hurting you, are you?”

Daughtry couldn’t answer him. She felt so foolish for her behavior.

“Daughtry, have I ever given you reason to fear me?”

“No,” she managed to whisper.

“I’m not a bad man, Daughtry. I know there’s things I can’t tell you just yet, but trust me. I understood about your secrets, now I’m asking you to understand about mine.”

She felt her fears give way to sympathy, then relief. He had only defended himself, she thought. Slumping against him, completely spent, Daughtry clung to his shirt. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

Nicholas brushed back her hair with his hand. “It’s all right. I can honestly understand your misgivings.”

“Why can’t you tell me about your past?” she questioned. “I told you about mine.”

Nicholas sighed. “It’s a long story, but for now I’m just begging you to trust me and to trust God to work it all out. I love you, Daughtry. Please, don’t doubt me on that.”

“I don’t,” she replied and sat up. She studied the worry in his eyes. It went beyond concern and seemed like something that bordered fear. Was he afraid she’d stopped loving him?

“Oh, Nicholas,” she said and kissed his face several times, “I was so afraid you’d be killed. Then when I saw you with that gun and you were so angry—well, I just didn’t know what to think.”

“I know, Honey, and believe me, I would have saved you from having to go through it if I could have.”

Daughtry nodded. It was all right, she told herself. Whatever his past consisted of, she no longer cared. She only knew that she loved him and that she would stand by him no matter what.

Leaning down to put her face on his shoulder, Daughtry spoke. “We’ll just trust God to get us through this,” she pledged.

“That’s my girl,” Nicholas said and leaned back against the sofa.

Chapter 10

D
ays later, Daughtry had nearly forgotten the unpleasant incident. “Are we really going to get the horse today?” she asked eagerly. Securing her bonnet, she waited for Nicholas’s reply.

“Yes, for the millionth time,” he said laughing. “I’ve never seen you so excited about anything in our two months of marriage.”

“Well, there was the time that rat got in the house,” Daughtry said with a grimace. “Or wait, what about the bathtub? I got pretty excited about the bathtub.”

Nicholas’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, yes, you did. I seem to recall having some very fine apple cake that evening. Wonder if I’ll get another one for buying the horse?”

“We’ll see,” Daughtry said with a smug look of satisfaction. “Depends on how good the horse is.”

“Now, while we’re in town,” Nicholas said, bringing the wagon to a halt, “I want you to get whatever you think we might need. We’ve got to make sure we’re stocked up for the winter, just in case we have trouble getting into town.”

Daughtry nodded and pulled out a small list. “I wrote down things for the kitchen.” She glanced up and down the street which was already teaming with people. Several suffragists stood at one end of the street expounding on the necessity of women having the vote. At the opposite end of town there seemed to be an unusual amount of traffic at the railroad depot. “We seem to have come on a busy day.”

“Looks that way.” Nicholas helped her from the wagon and put a finger under her chin. “Get yourself some warm clothes while you’re at it. I was looking through the things you brought into this marriage and you aren’t at all well supplied.” His mouth curled into a grin, and Daughtry returned his smile.

“Do you need anything?” she asked. “I can sew, you know, and we still have Mrs. Cummings’s old sewing machine. I’m sure I could get it in working shape.”

“I could use some heavy shirts for winter,” he said, then placed a light kiss on her forehead. “But don’t worry about me. I want you to make sure you have everything you need. Everything, understood? Even if you worry that I might think it frivolous. I’ve never had a wife before, so I wouldn’t be knowing what one might need.”

Daughtry was touched by his generosity. “I’ll try to be thorough. Where will you be?”

“Oh, here and there. I have to get the horse and there’s a few other things I need to attend to. I’ll pick up the mail, so you don’t have to worry about it.
Now, here’s some money, and if that’s not enough, tell them to hold whatev
er it is you want and I’ll pay them before we head home.”

Daughtry watched as Nicholas took off down the street. He was so kind and loving. Gone were the images of the hateful man with the rifle. All Daughtry could see was the man who touched her heart.

She was headed across the street to the general store when she happened to glance once more at her husband’s retreating form. Surprised, she noticed he’d headed to the sheriff’s office. Watching him go into the small building, Daughtry quickly made her way down the street to follow him. She wanted very much to know if her husband were in some kind of trouble.

“But why would he come here if he was an outlaw?” Daughtry wondered aloud. Biting her lip, she looked around quickly and was grateful to find herself alone on the boardwalk.

The town was much too small to have a very grand affair for a jail. Daughtry knew from what folks had told her on the train coming here that this was a one saloon, one cell kind of town. She would have been just as happy had they told her it had no saloon, but then, the world wasn’t perfect.

Leaning close to the window, Daughtry could see her husband in deep discussion with a man she could only guess was the sheriff. She couldn’t hear anything from this vantage point, however. Quietly, she made her way around the building and up the alley. She came to the window nearest the two men and paused. This one had the shade pulled down on the inside. She could see nothing, but she pressed her ear to the glass after a cautious glance down the alleyway.

“You go far enough back with these men to be related,” she heard the sheriff saying. He said something more, but his words were garbled and Daughtry couldn’t begin to understand.

Then Nicholas bellowed in voice so loud Daughtry had no trouble distinguishing every word, “I didn’t ask them to look me up. They rode in looking for trouble and I gave it to them.”

The sheriff, equally enraged, ranted back. “Well, you made your bed this time for sure. You brought it all on yourself!”

Daughtry wondered silently what Nicholas had brought on himself, but she was unable to continue listening at the window because someone was coming down the alley. She made her way down the street, crossing to avoid the suffragists and their battle cries.

She quickly entered the general store and furiously began her shopping. Her mind was filled with ugly images and worrisome thoughts. What if Nicholas had once been an outlaw? Maybe he was once partners with the men who sat in the jail cell. She shuddered at the thought. That just couldn’t be possible. Or could it?

She toyed with several bolts of flannel material and finally settled on a dark blue plaid and a solid brown. She ordered the yardage and sought out buttons to match, planning in her mind to make Nicholas two good shirts before winter set in. Remembering his instructions to her, Daughtry went through the material a second time and chose several colors of wool to make herself some simple skirts. She finished by securing some plain white cotton and two calico prints for blouses, before turning her attention to colorful skeins of knitting yarn.

She paid for the goods, certain that she’d overspent what Nicholas had given her, but found to her surprise that she had plenty of cash left over. Seeing that she still had enough money, Daughtry quickly instructed the store owner to throw in several pairs of long underwear for her husband.

“What size?” the man asked her as he went to retrieve the goods.

“Oh, my,” she said in surprise. “I don’t know.”

“Well,” the man said looking at the blushing woman, “is he bigger than me?”

Daughtry sized the man up for a moment. “Yes,” she determined quick
ly. “He’s at least this much taller than me and about this much wider,” she said, holding her hands out to indicate the size. Just then, Nicholas came into the store and Daughtry motioned to the storekeeper. “That’s him.”

The man behind the counter smiled and nodded. “Morning, Mr. Dawson. I didn’t know this little lady was your wife.”

“We’re newlyweds,” Nicholas said, coming up behind Daughtry. “Now what did you mean ‘That’s him’?”

“I was just buying you some. . .” Daughtry blushed again, unable to talk about underwear in the presence of her husband.

The storekeeper quickly brought the requested product to the counter and added it to the stack of things Daughtry had already paid for. “Will these do?” he asked, looking at Nicholas and not Daughtry.

Nicholas had to hold himself in check to keep from laughing out loud at Daughtry’s sudden embarrassment. “She thinks of everything,” he said with a wink over Daughtry’s shoulder to the storekeeper. “They’re fine.”

Daughtry handed the storekeeper the remaining amount due, while
Nicholas put his arm around her lovingly. “Did you get everything you needed?”

“Yes, and then some. I certainly can’t complain about your generosity, Mr. Dawson.”

Nicholas picked up their supplies and led Daughtry to the door. “Would you like to get something to eat while we’re in town?”

“That might be fun,” Daughtry replied, looping her arm through
Nicholas’s. “But it’s also a bit frivolous. We’re going to have a great many expenses come spring and. . .”

“Madam,” a deep, but clearly female voice called out, “you are a victim of our society.”

Daughtry and Nicholas both stopped directly in front of a sour-faced woman who was dressed in black with a white sash that clearly identified her suffrage cause. The woman continued before either Nicholas or Daughtry could comment.

“This man seeks to enslave you! You needn’t be chained to him like a dog. The men of America seek to make women their possessions. They want to control them. He,” the woman said, sticking a bony finger in the middle of Nicholas’s face, “wants to control you. He wants to dominate your every living moment.”

Daughtry stared up at Nicholas as if contemplating the woman’s words.
Nicholas just shrugged and raised a questioning brow.

“That’s right,” the woman continued. “This man would just as soon see you bound to him—fit only to serve his pleasures and bear his children!”

Daughtry smiled broadly at the woman. “I know. Isn’t it great?”

At this, the woman sputtered and stepped back in horror, while Nicholas threw back his head and roared with laughter.

“You, young woman, are the very reason women are oppressed. You are the reason we can’t voice our opinions and vote for our own representation,” the woman called to Nicholas and Daughtry as they made their way down the boardwalk.

“You certainly made a spectacle of yourself, Mrs. Dawson. Probably set back women’s rights a hundred years,” Nicholas said, helping her down from the boardwalk.

“Oh dear,” Daughtry said in feigned concern. “I suppose that means I’ll be bound to you even longer now.”

“Only forever,” Nicholas said with a gentleness in his voice that warmed Daughtry’s heart.

Daughtry stared up at her husband, all the love she felt for him shining clear in her eyes.

“Well, are you going to just stand there or are you going to tell me what you think of your new horse?” he questioned.

Daughtry’s eyes widened and she quickly looked around. Standing there, tied to the back of the wagon, was a beautiful chestnut mare, complete with western saddle. “I thought you might like to ride her home,” Nicholas whispered against her ear.

“Oh, she’s beautiful! Of course I want to ride her home. Oh, Nicholas, thank you!” She threw her arms around her husband, nearly causing him to drop their packages.

Helping to set things back in place, Daughtry composed herself a bit, but the delight was evident in her eyes.

“You’re welcome,” he said and happily deposited the packages in the back of the wagon before turning to lend Daughtry some help in mounting.

“Does she have a name?” Daughtry questioned, running her hand along the mare’s sleek neck.

“She does. The owner called her Nutmeg.”

Daughtry cooed and talked to the mare, whispering the name several times. “I think we’ll be good friends, you and I,” she said to the horse.

Nicholas helped her up into the saddle, then took his place on the wagon. “You sure you want to ride her home?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Daughtry replied indignantly. “I could ride before I could walk, at least that’s what my father used to say.” She frowned only briefly at the reference before moving Nutmeg forward.

Nicholas pulled up alongside her once they were on the road out of town. “It’s going to be all right, Daughtry. You can’t be worrying all the time about what might or might not happen.”

“I know, but it’s been awhile since we sent the letter. I figure it won’t be long before. . .” She couldn’t finish the sentence, but Nicholas understood and conveyed his sympathy with his eyes. Taking a deep breath, Daughtry reminded herself that she had Nicholas’s love and that he would protect her. Then an earlier scene crossed her mind and Daughtry grimaced.
But who’s going to protect Nicholas?
she wondered.
Who will protect him when his past catches up with him again?

With the sheriff’s words still reverberating through her head and her own imagination running wild, Daughtry couldn’t help but fear the truth. She worked almost mindlessly around the kitchen that evening, putting the finish
ing touches on supper, waiting for Nicholas to reappear after seeing to the hors
es. She pulled a peach cobbler from the oven and smiled. At least she could offer him a good home-cooked meal. Cooking was one thing her mother had insisted Daughtry learn.

“Umm, smells mighty fine in here,” Nicholas said, coming through the mud porch into the kitchen. “And it’s warmer in here too.”

Daughtry came to him and helped him off with his coat. “It does feel a lot colder,” she replied, feeling the chilled night air as it followed him through the open door.

“No sign of snow just yet,” Nicholas added, giving his hat a toss to a hook beside the door. “It might just go around us.”

Daughtry nodded. “Supper’s ready.”

“I can see that,” he said, staring appreciatively at the table. “You’re going to make me fat,” he laughed but eagerly took a seat.

“I baked you a cobbler,” Daughtry said proudly. She brought the bubbling concoction to the table in order to show it off. “It ought to taste even better with the fresh cream we brought home.”

“I’m going to have to keep buying you presents, I see.”

“Maybe you could just share secrets with me instead,” she replied soberly.

“What do you mean?” he asked, knowing full well what she wanted.

“I just think it would be nice to know more about you. Like those men the other day. I can’t just forget about them. Who were they and why did they want to hurt you?” Daughtry sat down to the table and waited for Nicholas to speak.

“It’s nothing,” Nicholas snapped and began putting food on his plate. Softening his tone, he looked at her with pleading eyes and added, “Nothing that needs to concern you.”

“But I heard the sheriff yell at you,” Daughtry said without thinking. She bowed her head, ashamed to admit she’d spied on her husband.

“Don’t nose into this, Daughtry,” he replied sternly, the first time he’d ever sounded angry with her.

“I have a right to know,” she protested, lifting her face to meet his.

Nicholas’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Stay out of it. I mean it!” He slammed his fist down on the table, causing all the dishes to rattle. Daughtry stared at him for a heartbeat, then got up and ran from the table.

She was out the back door and running past the barn before she realized he was calling after her. Pride wouldn’t let her slow down, however, and Daughtry continued until she came to her favorite place. The little grove of trees by the creek offered her a safe haven, but not much warmth. Shivering uncontrollably under the full moon, Daughtry began to cry. Why had he been so mean?