Authors: Carolyn Davidson
Ellie smiled. “All that and you haven't even touched me.”
“I've watched you,” Ruth said, “and sensed your well-being.” She looked up at Win. “Your wife is one of the chosen ones, I believe.”
Win grinned. “Well, I certainly think so. She's the only one I've chosen, at any rate.” And then he sobered at Ruth's reproving look. “I apologize, ma'am. And I do know what you mean. She has qualities above and beyond those I would expect of a young woman. Maybe she's been refined by the harsh fire of anger and impatience, perfected by the cruel life she lived, isolated from those who might have lent a hand when she needed one.”
“I think you're both talking way over my head,” Ellie said quickly. “I don't know what you're getting at. I'm about as ordinary as oatmeal, and I surely don't have anything special to recommend me.” She turned to Ruth. “I do know how to draw, though. Like you said, I can put pictures on paper that I see in my head. But my pa didn't like me wasting my time at it.”
“You can do all the drawing you want to now, Ellie,” Win told her, his voice harsh.
She looked up quickly, but his expression held only
affection, though his eyes were moist, as though he was pained by some errant thought. “One of these days, maybe I will,” she said quietly.
“I
've something to tell you,” Win said, sitting down at the breakfast table. “James gave me some news yesterday. The judge was due into town late this morning and the hearing is this afternoon.” He gave her a measuring glance. “Do you still think you should go?”
“Yes.” It was a definite reply, the single word firm, spoken with finality. “I've been thinking, Win. If I spend the rest of my life hiding from Pa, I'll never get out from under his heavy hand.”
“You never have to see him again,” Win told her. “And just being married takes you out of his control.”
“It didn't help any when he hauled me off to the ranch.” She set her lips firmly and turned away from the table, to stand before the stove.
“Ellie, don't walk away from me,” he said. “I don't want you upset over this.”
She spun to face him, and anger edged her words. “I'll really be upset if I never let him know how I feel. He's made me cower for the last time, Win. I can't live my life in fear. You're not always here, you know. I can't hide in this house just because you're not around to protect me.”
“I thought you needed me,” he said quietly.
Ellie shook her head, despairing of making him understand. “I do need you. But I need to depend on myself, Win. And I can't be frightened of my pa any longer.”
She'd hurt him. And that was the last thing she'd wanted to do. He stood abruptly and shoved his hands into the depths of his trouser pockets. His eyes were hooded, his jaw firm, and he watched her without speaking. It would not do.
Ellie approached him, for the first time unsure if her touch would be welcome. One hand lifted to touch the taut line of his cheek, and he jerked back, a minute movement she ignored.
“Please don't be angry with me.” Softly spoken, her words were simply a request. She would not beg for his tolerance. If he couldn't allow her this small degree of independence without tightening the bonds he'd set in place, she would mourn the loss of his regard. But somehow, this had become a more important issue than she'd expected.
“I'm not angry,” he said tightly, and his hand rose quickly to grasp her wrist. Then his grip softened, and he lifted her fingers to his mouth. His lips touched them, a soft, unspoken apology. Yet his mood told her he was more hurt than he would admit.
“I need to make three short calls this morning, but I'll be home in time for dinner, and then we'll go to the hearing,” he said. He paused, and she sensed he had not spoken his mind. “You will allow that, won't you?” he asked in a stilted voice. Hurt laced each syllable, and she could only nod in agreement.
The morning seemed long, and the fact that Win had not eaten his breakfast before his abrupt departure bothered her. Still, she dithered between forming an apology to him, and strengthening her resolution. The apology lost. For one of the few times in her life, she'd made a stand. The moment she had faced Tommy, issuing her ultimatum that day in the
hotel, became as nothing, compared to the confrontation she'd survived with Win.
He arrived home, chilled to the bone, his eyes watering from the wind, and Ellie ladled him a thick mixture of vegetables and beef. Joining him at the table, she ate little, her apprehension as she thought of the afternoon ahead blunting her appetite.
“You need to eat, Ellie,” he said quietly, and she was aware that he'd been watching her.
“I'll probably feel more like it after we get this over with,” she said, tasting the soup and chewing slowly.
“All right,” he said agreeably, and she nodded, grateful that he hadn't coaxed her.
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The judge sat before a high desk, one seldom used in Whitehorn, since he only traveled this way each month for a two-day period. James stood before him, George at his side, and Ellie halted in the doorway, her gaze traveling the width and depth of the small room.
James looked over his shoulder and nodded, lifting one hand to motion to chairs against the wall. George's shoulders stiffened and he shifted his stance, but faced the judge without turning to see who had entered the room. Win's hand was warm on Ellie's arm and he led her to the designated seats, easing her onto the chair.
“I think we're ready to begin,” the judge said, looking down at the desk before him. “Are these the charges, Sheriff?” he asked, looking through his spectacles at James.
“Yes, sir,” James replied. “All down in black and white. Pretty straightforward.”
“Hmm⦔ The judge read slowly, and Ellie found herself holding her breath, her eyes barely swerving from the figure of her father.
“He looks smaller,” she whispered, leaning to speak directly in Win's ear. “Has he lost weight, do you think?”
Win shook his head. “Your fear made him seem larger than he really was, sweetheart.” He looked directly into her eyes, and his words were low, barely audible to her listening ear. “You're really not afraid of him anymore, are you?”
She inhaled, shaking her head. And then the judge spoke.
“This seems to be a case of an impetuous father trying to right what he saw as a wrong done to his daughter.” He looked up and directed his gaze at Ellie. “Are you Eleanor Mitchum?”
“No, sir. My name is Eleanor Gray. I'm married to Dr. Winston Gray.”
“Did your father physically harm you, young woman?”
“He knocked me to the ground, and while I was dazed he tied me and threw me into the back of his wagon,” she said quietly.
“Sir?” The judge shifted his gaze to George. “Is that true?”
“She wouldn't listen to me,” George said harshly. “I wanted that baby to be born to his real father.”
“What else happened?” the judge asked Ellie.
She stood, an awkward movement, and Win rose to hold her arm. “He made one of his ranch hands take me to a line shack the next day, and they held me prisoner there.”
“You got away, I understand,” the judge prompted.
“Yes, the second night I walked toward Whitehorn, and then slept under a tree. My husband found me the next morning.” The memory of those hours consumed her as she recalled the cold that penetrated her clothing and the hours of curling on the ground beneath a single blanket. “I was sick for a number of days,” she said softly.
“Probably should have stayed where you were. Kinda foolish to go running off across the open range, I'd think.” He took off his spectacles and polished them on a white handkerchief.
“Your pa was a little harsh, but I suspect he thought he was doing the right thing.”
Win stepped forward and James turned to issue him a sharp look. Subsiding, he looked down at Ellie, and she felt his anger as a viable entity. Her hand reached for his and found his fingers curved into a tight fist.
“I think Mr. Mitchum has served a long enough sentence, Sheriff,” the judge said briskly. “I order you to leave your daughter alone, sir. And I release you from custody.” With a sharp rap of his gavel, the judge made his decision and rose from his seat.
“Release your prisoner, Sheriff.” Without another look in Ellie's direction, he stepped down from the platform and marched from the room, only pausing for a moment to speak quietly to James.
Ellie was stunned. She'd been scolded as though she were a small child. And her father was a free man. Her conscience reminded her that she'd already told Win that George should be released, but to have it happen in such an unfair manner was beyond belief. She looked up at Win, and found him watching her, his face ruddy with the anger he'd managed to suppress.
“You ready to go home?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“No, I want to talk to Pa.”
George stood unmoving as Ellie approached, and she spoke to him quietly. “Pa, I need to talk to you.”
He turned his head, and she saw new lines in his cheeks, a frown on his forehead and a weariness she had never seen exposed on his features before now. “I don't know as we have much to say,” he muttered.
“You may not, but I do,” she persisted. “You're my father, and I don't want to have to avoid you for the rest of my life, Pa. I want you to know that I'm not ever going to be afraid of you again.”
She looked him squarely in the eye, and for the first time in her life, she felt no fear for the man who had browbeaten and abused her. Strength entered her voice, and she rejoiced at the knowledge that her words were true. “It's not because I'm married to Win, and have him to protect me. I'm a grown woman now, and I have the right to live my life the way I see fit. I won't let you take out your anger on me anymore.”
“I've given up on you, daughter,” he said bitterly. “You made your bed. You're stuck with it. You've got that fancy Dan next to you usin' you for a slavey, and you think you're better off than you were at home? Wait till he gets tired of lookin' at another man's bastard. That'll be the day he throws you out and slams the door behind you.” Spittle edged his mouth as he spoke, and his final words were harsh and cutting. “I hope you hear what I'm sayin', because I won't give you squattin' room on my ranch.”
She felt a pang of sadness that it should come to this, yet she could not back down. “You don't understand the first thing about love, Pa. You never have, and I fear you never will. I'll have your grandchild and you won't even know when it's born. I feel sorry for you.”
She turned from him, unable to look any longer at the man who had done nothing but ill-use her for as long as she could remember.
“Let's go home, Ellie.” Win's warm hand touched her arm and she looked up at him, his features blurring before her eyes. He bent to brush a kiss against her cheek. “Don't let him see you cry,” he said softly. “Don't give him the satisfaction, Ellie.”
And she didn't. Holding Win's arm, she stepped from the room, out the door of the town council's office and onto the sidewalk. From there, they walked slowly and cautiously toward home, Win careful to dodge the icy spots where snow had melted.
“Are you feeling better, Mrs. Gray?” A gray-haired woman
approached, and Ellie struggled to plaster a smile on her face, recognizing the minister's wife.
“Yes, ma'am, I am, Mrs. Fairfax,” she said hastily. “Thank you for asking.”
“We prayed for your well-being in church,” Mrs. Fairfax said, resting her hand on Ellie's shoulder. She leaned closer and her voice lowered. “You look like you should be close to your bed. I'm surprised the doctor, here, allowed you out in the cold air.”
Ellie felt a blush color her cheeks. “I've really been feeling much better of late. And Win takes good care of me.”
Mrs. Fairfax looked up at Win. “We'll look forward to having you come back to church as soon as your wife is able. I'm sure she's fortunate to have you.”
“I like to think so, ma'am.” His head bowed in a gesture of respect, and they took their leave. “I'm glad you think I take good care of you,” he murmured softly. “I guess I do come in handy once in a while, don't I?”
She slanted a look upward and tried her best to read his expression. It was bland, his eyes resting on the horizon, but a smile twitched the corners of his lips. “More than once in a while, Dr. Gray,” she answered.
“Wait up!” The call came from behind them and Win tugged Ellie to a halt, turning to face the man who hailed them. James's stride was long as he approached. “Are you all right, Ellie? I didn't like what the judge had to say to you, but I wasn't surprised. Women don't ever get a fair shake, it seems.” He grinned as he thrust his hands into his coat pockets. “Kate's been doin' her level best to get me trained. You think it's working?”
“I'd say there's hope for you,” Ellie said slyly. “And I'm not really surprised at the judge. He'd probably have sent me home with Pa if he'd had a choice.”
“Well, don't worry about your father anymore, Ellie. I told him it was worth his next five years of freedom if he caused
you any more grief. And he didn't have a word to say. Just took off for the livery stable to rent a horse to ride home on.”
“You think he'll behave himself?” Win asked, doubt coloring his words.
“He didn't enjoy jail. That ought to have some influence on his behavior,” James said with a grin. And then his look of easy humor faded and Ellie saw a different side of James Kincaid emerge. His mouth grew firm and his jaw tightened as he faced her head-on and touched her shoulder.
“He knows better than to cross the Kincaid bunch,” James said bluntly. “I'm not only the sheriff of Whitehorn, I'm a member of a family that's been here for a lot of years, and the men tend to stick together when the situation calls for it. Your pa is smart enough to know he'll be walking on thin ice if he causes any more trouble for you.”
And then he smiled, and the lawman became her neighbor once more, his grin genial, his eyes sparkling with good humor. “Thank you, James,” Ellie said solemnly.
“And now we're on our way home,” Win told James. “Ellie's probably been out in this cold long enough.”
“Let me give you a ride,” James offered. “I just got a buggy from Lionel Briggs so I could pick up Kate at the school. I don't want her walking home with Tyler in the cold.”
“Sounds good to me,” Win said. “Got room for all of us? Even Ellie?”
“There's room for all three of us,” James said, his eyes fixed on Ellie's face as he took her other arm and led the way across the street to where the buggy was tied in front of the sheriff's office. In moments they were on the seat and on their way home. “Now, doesn't this beat walking?” he asked Ellie, lifting the reins and urging the mare into a slow trot. “You feeling all right?” he asked, peering down into her face. “You look kinda peaked, like Kate did just before⦔ His voice trailed off and he glanced at Win. “You think she's about ready?” he asked.