Chapter 16
Hattie realized how hard she was holding onto Ben. She slowly straightened and slid to the side, creating a little space between them on the seat. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Are you all right?” he asked, still keeping the reins loose and letting the horses run as fast as they wanted.
“Yeah,” she panted. “I think so. Is my face as red as yours?”
He glanced at her and grinned. “Yes. Is mine really that bad?”
“I’m sure it’s just the chilly air on our cheeks,” Hattie replied with a small smile.
She leaned back a little, trying to relax her shoulders.
Her body had been so stiff and store from her time in the crawlspace.
Jumping around on the wagon and firing the gun had been a change of pace, but it made her body hurt even more.
“I can’t believe we made it out of there.” Ben risked a quick glance back, but he was letting the horses run as fast as they wanted and had to keep his eyes on the trail ahead of them. “I knew it was dangerous to go through the pass, but I’d hoped the weather would keep everyone else out of there.”
“I guess you’re not the only one who wanted to take a shortcut. At least we made it, though. That’s the important thing.” Hattie rearranged her blanket around her, surprised that she’d managed to keep it on all this time.
“You did pretty well with the rifle,” he noted, nodding toward the weapon that still lay across her lap. “You can shoot?”
A renewed flush of warmth swept through her cheeks, but it wasn’t pride or gratitude for being alive. Hattie’s work with the gun had been instrumental in saving their hides, and yet it told far too much about her previous life. “I just got lucky.”
“I don’t know about that,” he replied doubtfully. “It’s a good gun, and a reliable one, but it’s not easy to just shoot a person. Even if they’re coming after you. Are you sure you’re all right?”
Hattie didn’t need a mirror to know she looked terrible, but this sweet young man still thought she was some sort of lady.
That was better than the truth. “I’m a little shaken, is all.
I’m sorry I didn’t know enough about the horses.
They were so frightened, and there are just so many leather straps. ”
“No, that’s all right. We made it work.” His eyes drifted down to the rifle.
Ben seemed safe enough, but only as long as he didn’t know the entire truth about her. Once he did, everything would change. Hattie leaned forward, looking past Ben and squinting into the woods as they hurried by.
“What is it?” Ben turned to look in the same direction.
“Oh, nothing. It was just a deer,” Hattie said breathily. “I saw the movement and I got worried.”
Ben’s mouth hardened, and his hands were tight on the reins. He said nothing for a long moment, just listening.
The farther they got from Apache territory, the more difficult it’d be to distract him with potential danger. “So, tell me what it was like to grow up at the orphanage. Was it very difficult?”
“No, but I arrived when I was just a baby. It was the only home I’d ever known,” he replied with a shrug.
“I’ve always heard such terrible things about orphanages.
” Hattie tucked the rifle under the seat, hoping that keeping it out of sight would make Ben forget what he’d seen her do with it.
“A bunch of dirty children who have to work hard and barely get any food, mean old women who resent them, that sort of thing. It didn’t seem that way from what I saw. ”
“No, not at all. I don’t know if it’s true for other orphanages, but St. Thomas is the opposite. The children do their part to help keep the place going, but that’s just what they’d do if they lived with families. They’re clean and fed. Or at least, most of the time.”
Hattie pressed her lips together. Smoke from the burning pantry had filled the crawlspace when Cutter had returned, once again demanding to know where Hattie was. She’d pressed her blanket against her face, but it wasn’t enough.
She’d had to squirm over to one of the little holes in the foundation and suck in as much fresh air as possible while she’d waited, wondering if the orphanage would burn down on top of her.
And to have it happen right when she’d been about to leave! Hattie had prepared herself and made her plans, believing she was safe from Cutter with winter upon them. She could count her blessings that she hadn’t left yet, but Cutter hadn’t given up. She was still a hunted animal.
The burned pantry was exactly why Ben was making this trip, and that was turning the conversation too far back toward Hattie. “Do people actually come all the way up into the mountains to adopt a child?”
“Sure, they do. St. Thomas has a good reputation. I think it helps that Sister Matthews teaches us manners and hard work.” He smiled, his eyes distant.
“And they come themselves? To meet the children?” Hattie had never thought so much about the inner workings of an orphanage.
The horses had finally slowed, and Ben guided them around another curve.
There was no sliding around this time. “They have to. A few times, some wealthy person has simply sent a note requesting that a child be sent to them, but Sister Matthews won’t have it.
She wants to see for herself that everyone is going to be happy with the arrangement. ”
“What happened to your parents?” Hattie studied his face. He was about the same age that she was, she guessed. His eyes had a habit of turning hard and angry, but for the most part he had boyish good looks that made him seem a little younger.
The wistful joy on Ben’s face melted away. “I don’t know. My mother dropped me off and disappeared. I never knew their names or where they were from.”
“Oh.” A stab of guilt pierced Hattie’s heart.
She’d asked him because she needed him to keep talking about himself, but that had to be such a terrible thing for Ben to wrestle with.
His parents didn’t want him. They’d abandoned him.
They’d left him at a nice place, but they’d still left him. “I’m sorry.”
Ben sucked in a deep breath and shook his head. “No, it’s fine. It’s not something I think about much anymore. I don’t regret how I was raised.”
“No. I imagine not,” she said softly. Hattie still knew little about him, but her time in the crawlspace had taught her just how much he cared for St. Thomas and the people in it. She’d listened to him showing the boys how to whittle or giving Sister Andrews a hand with a heavy pot.
“Hattie, why is Cutter after you?”
Damn. She’d let the conversation lapse too long while she thought. “Hm? Oh, let’s not talk about that.”
“Oh, I think we should.” They were traveling at a decent clip, but not so fast that he couldn’t turn and look into her eyes.
She tipped her chin down and looked up through her lashes. “I think we can find much more interesting things to talk about.”
Ben blinked.
Hattie crept her hand over to his leg and laid it gently on his knee. “Or more interesting things to do.”
He brushed her hand aside. “Stop that. I’m being serious here.”
She widened her eyes. “You don’t think I am?”
“No,” he bit off the word, and it rang out sharply in the cold air.
“I think I’m a pretty patient man, Hattie.
I let you into the church when you needed help.
I lied to Cutter to keep you safe. Sister Andrews was injured and Father Tillman was killed when they came back looking for you again, and that’s not even mentioning what you might’ve put the kids through with your antics. ”
Her mouth puckered and her shoulder sagged. “Another lecture for Hattie,” she murmured.
If he heard her, he didn’t respond. “I’ve even let you stay with me instead of leaving you behind. At the very least, I deserve a few answers.”
“Hey, now!” She rounded on him, feeling angry and defensive. “I helped get rid of those Apache, you know!”
“Yes, you did,” he agreed sternly. “But that doesn’t make up for what you’ve done, nor does it make any sense.”
Hattie opened her mouth, ready to argue further, when she realized that she’d brought up exactly the subject she’d been trying to avoid. Ben wasn’t trying to outwit her, though, he merely wanted to understand what was going on.
She clasped her hands around her knee and looked off into the woods, contemplating.
“Look, if you have family somewhere, maybe I can help you get back to them.” Ben’s voice was gentler now, though there was still a rough edge to it. “I need to know what’s going on before I can help.”
“I don’t have a family, not anymore,” she said bitterly.
He let a moment lapse between them. “Is that what you meant about some orphanages being terrible places? Were you in one?”
“No. It was nothing like that at all.” Hattie stuck out her lower lip and blew out a sigh. Ben was a nice man, but he was insistent. He also deserved, she supposed, at least a little bit of the truth considering what she’d put him through.
“My family were the Monroes, out of Prescott. I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of us?”
“No.”
Thank goodness. “My father was in the business of buying and selling land. He was good at finding land that wasn’t worth much at the moment but would be in the future.
He’d buy a dusty bit of ground, and then a year or so later a settlement would pop up nearby and someone would want it.
He had plots all over the territory, even going up into Utah and Colorado. ”
Ben let out a low whistle, but he didn’t comment.
“There is a railroad magnate by the name of Randall Davies. Have you ever heard of him?”
He shook his head “I kept to the valley while I was growing up. When I served in the army, I was pretty occupied with just keeping myself in one piece.”
“The army?” she said, sweeping her eyes down his body and then back up again. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a soldier.”
“Maybe I can tell you about it, after you finish your story, of course. I wouldn’t want to be rude.” A humorous light danced in his eyes.