Samuel - 1
SAMUEL
I had to admit waiting in the house was better than waiting outside. Whoever designed the house had known what they were doing because it felt like no matter where you were, it was several times cooler than outside. It probably had something to do with the airflow, but considering architecture wasn't something I was knowledgeable about, I just had to trust whoever had designed it.
My attention was drawn toward the hallway behind me when I heard the soft shuffle of footsteps. Hipolita had made her way in, a broom in hand and a rag in the other. She stopped when she saw me and smiled. “Now, isn't this a nice surprise?"
"I was waiting in the same spot last week," I said with a shake of my head. Admittedly, it had been nice of Elizabeth to insist that if I was going to wait for her to get ready for her weekly excursion, then I should at least wait in the house and out of the sun. Her father, who had been in earshot when she'd said it, didn't seem to have agreed with the idea but had said nothing.
Much like I didn't know how the conversation between Ambrose and his father to propose the idea had gone, neither did I know what the elder Isaiah thought about his daughter's insistence on having things her way. Considering she wasn't spoiled, it probably didn't come from expectation on her part, and he didn't seem like the spoiling kind. If I had to guess, it would be that there were actually similarities between father and daughter, though it was sometimes hard to see as she buried a lot of those traits under the more expected feminine virtues.
I thought it was good that she had been educated the same as her brothers because, from what I could see, she was as eager to learn as she was adept. Not a lot escaped her notice, and she had a memory made from etched stone. I'd heard her talk to her husband the week before when I'd waited for her, and she certainly knew what was what when it came to business and finances. If I were her father, I'd be seriously considering breaking the mold and putting my daughter in charge of some things.
"But it's always a pleasant surprise seeing you," Hipolita chuckled, tossing the rag over her shoulder. "Used to be I'd think Ambrose wouldn't let you out of his sight."
"Probably convinced the big bad outlaw was going to run away if he wasn't watching me," I said, crossing my leg by setting my ankle over my knee. "But don't worry, he still keeps an eye on me."
Generally, it was my ass he was watching, or other parts of my body, though he didn't think I noticed. Sadly for dear, bashful Ambrose, I had spent most of my romantic life learning to pick up on when other men...appreciated me. Despite how much he prided himself on keeping things close to his chest, he was about as subtle in checking me out as a kick to the head. The only reason people didn't notice was because they’d learned to accept his stony expression and because the average person wouldn't think someone like Ambrose would check out another man.
To call the intense staring at my body merely checking out would be doing a disservice to what he was actually doing. Despite having had me as an outlet for what had been years of pent-up stress and sexual nothingness, Ambrose still acted like an amorous schoolboy. Not that I minded in all fairness, it was always nice to feel wanted, but coming from someone like Ambrose? Someone who tried his hardest to hide what was going on in his head and saw the sort of weakness he had for me carnally as a bad thing? That was almost as good as the sex.
Almost, but not quite.
"Very close eye," I added unnecessarily, enjoying the private joke with myself. Ambrose was tolerant of the secret we were keeping, but I went one step further and enjoyed it. To the surprise of no one who knew even part of my history, a little bit of rule-breaking was fun. The more scandalous, the better. Sleeping with the ranch owner's son under everyone's nose was scandalous rule-breaking and easily enjoyed...so long as it stayed a secret because I enjoyed the sensation of keeping a secret as well.
Hipolita sighed, shoving her fists against her hips. “That boy has always been such a busybody. If I could get him to understand that he doesn't need to fret over every little thing, he might find a bit more joy in life."
"According to Elizabeth, he's been finding it lately," I said with a shrug. "Though, if this is him enjoying himself more, I'd hate to think what he was like when he was miserable."
Hipolita fixed a firm stare in my direction. “Now you mind yourself, . That man has had plenty in his life to worry about, just like you have, just a different kind. He's not a bad man."
"Nor did I say he was," I cocked my head, winking. "Just particularly grumpy."
Her hard stare softened after she snorted. “No accountin' for where he got that from."
"Hmm, you know, I can't think of anyone who might have passed that particular behavior down," I said wryly. "Perhaps that’s a mystery man was never made to solve."
"Perhaps it needs a woman's touch."
"You know, in many cases, I’d agree with you. All too often, people don't see just how good an investigator women can be, and that includes women themselves. But I think it's fairly safe to say there's no need to wonder who he got that from. That is unless his mother was particularly dour. He isn't particularly fond of talking about her."
"Why would he be?"
"I didn't say it wasn't understandable."
Hipolita sighed. “She was a lovely woman, that much I can tell you."
"And nothing more than that," I surmised with a smile. "Your loyalty, like much about you, is admirable."
She laughed at that. “Well, she was a big part of why."
"She really must have been lovely," I said, trying not to sound surprised.
"She was," Elizabeth's voice piped up, and I saw her walking toward me, fully dressed. One of the requirements Ambrose had was that she would be allowed to go out with an escort if she made sure to still look like a woman. I hadn't seen the logic, but apparently Elizabeth did, and she had looked pissed at the suggestion. I'd voted against it because it wasn't practical if we needed to move quickly or if we ventured somewhere that could damage her nice clothes. I still didn't understand why Ambrose insisted on ignoring all that, but maybe it was some sisterly thing...or a man-to-woman thing I didn't get.
I looked over her dress, which was toned down from her normal ones, but it was her boots poking out from her skirt that raised my brow. "Are we going on a journey today? I see riding boots."
"How observant," she said with a snort. "I want to go riding today to see the parts of the land that aren't behind fences."
I wasn't sure if that was covered under the agreement, but I wasn't going to argue. She had spent a great deal of her life tied down and restrained by the rules she'd been given by birth and gender. If she wanted to bend the rules slightly to have a little freedom...well, that would be more than somewhat hypocritical for me to argue. Plus, she agreed not to leave the ranch without letting someone know. However, if we were still technically on the property owned by her family, she could make the exceptionally frustrating argument that she was still on the property, even if she’d originally agreed to stay on the ranch.
It was what I would do.
"Well, far be it from me to argue with a lady," I said at her raised brow, smirking when she scowled at me. Which, of course, made me stand up and bow politely, holding my arm out as I straightened. "Now, if you'll be so kind, I will be your guardian for the day."
"Oh, the things I could say right now," she murmured, choosing to ignore my arm like I figured she would.
"Things unbefitting a lady?" I wondered.
"Things that would make Hipolita scold me," she said, adjusting her hat. "Now, let's go."
Chuckling, I began walking, knowing she would keep in step even if I went too fast. Clearly, stubbornness and an overwhelming desire to prove oneself ran through the family line. That or it was just the children. Then again, Elizabeth didn't have quite the level of fear or desperation around her father as her younger brother. She was far more like their father than Ambrose.
It was in the little things, like the way she’d expressed her annoyance at my joke a moment ago. Ambrose would have growled and grumbled, but she was simply cool and direct. She certainly had more warmth than her father, but if you peeled back the layers of her behavior and personality, you would easily see someone with that same core of steel. Yet there was more ice in her than there was in either of her brothers, who were more strongly affected by their emotions, guided by them. Not her, though, and reading between the lines from things she'd said, I suspected she had a much greater hand in her husband's decisions than anyone outside the marriage might have guessed.
We stepped outside, and since I was supposed to be her guardian and not her guide, I let her take the lead. It was, after all, supposed to be her freedom to do as she pleased. Being able to accompany her wasn't really freedom for me, but it was a lot closer than anything I’d had before. Plus, even if I refused to admit to anyone, especially Ambrose, I was touched that of all the people he could have chosen to look out for his sister, he had chosen me.
After a little while, we reached the stables, and she smiled as we ducked into the cooler shadows inside. “It's funny."
"Considering the state of the world, I think you might have to be a little clearer about what is funny," I said with a shake of my head.
"My brother has complained about how much you like to talk, and yet when you're around me, you seem perfectly happy to be quiet."
"Well, the difference is that, unlike your brother, you have a sense of humor and aren't as easy to rile up."
"Some people might think it was a bad idea to rile up the man who holds the other end of your leash," she said as she prepared her horse.
"Perhaps, and normally, that would be true. But your brother is far too noble and good deep down to do anything other than drum up petty punishments for me getting on his nerves," I said with a chuckle as I grabbed a horse as well.
"Mother always liked to say that she was able to tell what we would be like while she still carried us. I believed her when I was a child, but when I got older, I realized she just said that because we were children, and people say all sorts of things to children. Maybe just because they believe you."
"Which doesn't really hold water considering she would have predicted Ambrose, but?—"
Without a struggle, she pulled herself onto her horse and shot me a small smile. “But she went and died. You don't have to tread carefully around the subject with me. I loved my mother very much and still love her, but I have made peace with her death. It's silly little men like my brothers who don't know how to move past it."
"And your father?"
"He's made as much peace with it as a man can after they lost the person they thought they were going to spend the rest of their life with."
"Ah...well, that's good...I think."
She laughed as I mounted. “Back to my original point. My mother said she knew something important about all of us. She said Joseph would be headstrong and difficult at times, but he would always know what he wanted. She said I would be independent and bright and give them both conniptions if I really wanted to."
"A little vague, but still specific enough to be eerie that they're right. Which now comes down to Ambrose to prove if she really was telling the truth."
"She said he would have a big heart and a hard head, and he would need to find his own place to stand rather than trying to get out from under the shadows of others."
I scoffed. “You can't be serious."
"I would expect anyone who didn't know my brother well to say something like that," she said with a chuckle.
The problem wasn't that I thought their late mother was wrong about Ambrose. In fact, it was so on point I had to wonder what kind of weird thing pregnancy was that she was able to predict her unborn son's personality and his life's struggle. It had taken me a while, but I’d figured out that Ambrose's greatest strength and weakness was the big heart he fought like hell to hide from the world.
My specific problem was. “Didn't your mother die when you were young?"
"Yes, why?"
"Then how do you remember what she said specifically so many years later?"
"My mother kept a journal. I guess she said that if anything happened to her, the journal should go to me. My father waited a little while before giving it to me. At the time, I was so angry with him for keeping it from me, but age gives you wisdom. It was wise not to give it to me while I was still so young and mourning my mother. The grief would have strangled me. Better to have it when I began to move on from the pain and could use it as a comfort for my grief rather than an anchor."
"Huh, that's...wise of him indeed. I never had anything of my parents to take with me. I had to leave home as quickly as possible and didn't have time to grab more than a few scraps of food and some clothes."
"You were chased out of your house?"
"More or less. But that’s what happens when you kill the sheriff's son and best friend."
"I...well, you just...admit that freely?"
"There are many crimes in my life that I’m not proud of and don't feel the need to speak about. Killing the men who killed my parents, however, does not fall under that list. I would have it layered in gold and hung on the wall."
She glanced at me, a thoughtful expression on her face, before nodding. "You won't hear me say otherwise. I remember my father once said that true justice is in the hands of the Lord, but that sometimes it's up to good men to hasten the meeting between Him and the wicked."
I had to laugh at that. “Well, that's something I'll have to remember. I've met plenty of wicked people, and a few of them I've sent on to the good Lord. Or the Devil, who knows? I'll find out at some point."
"Does...Ambrose know?"
"Would it surprise you if I told you he does?"
"Hmm, it surprises me because you don't seem the type to share freely, and Ambrose...well, he instills loyalty in the men who work under him, but I can't see him having the same effect on someone in your circumstances. Still, you two have been spending a great deal of time together, and from what I've seen, the two of you have a better relationship than I would otherwise have guessed."
"That’s one way to look at it," I said, knowing that even with our budding friendship, there was no way in this life I was going to freely admit I was bonding with her brother in a way that would scandalize any follower of the faith. It really didn't matter how open someone was to new things. There were always limits, and I really did not feel like discovering what her limits might be.
Elizabeth chuckled. “Well, I suppose I can't expect you to give away your secrets. Though now I can see why the two of you get along."
"Excuse me?"
"He's not fond of talking about what's really going on with him either. Maybe the two of you can find a way to balance one another out...or make each other worse."
"I doubt that whatever time we have left with one another is going to make any significant changes in our personalities."
She snorted. “Did you forget? I've already noticed a change in him. There's a...softness in him I don't recall seeing outside of his nieces and nephews and occasionally me."
"Don't forget Bear."
"Now, how could I forget that mutt?" she asked with a fond laugh. "You should have seen Ambrose the day he got his hands on that pup. You would have thought he’d just discovered his long-lost son and was determined to make up for the time he lost trying to raise him. The two have been inseparable ever since."
"I admit, it was hard to bear a grudge against a man who’s so fond of his dog," I said with a shrug, looking around and realizing she had already led us toward the far end of the ranch. "Curious, you didn't choose the main gates. I wonder why that might be?"
"You know full well why," she said with a roll of her eyes. "The less hassle I get trying to have a little ride, the better."
"You are aware there are wild animals out there? And...other things."
"I've been told."
"Have you?"
"Yes, wolves...and Wolves."
I slid out of my saddle and moved to open the gate for the two of us to pass. A few men were working on the nearby fence and watched us with mild curiosity, but no one said anything. Everyone had already been informed that she was allowed to go where she pleased when she pleased so long as I was in tow. What the men thought about that was anyone's guess, but since they were leaving us be, I just nodded at them.
"Interesting," I said as I grabbed the reins and led my horse through the gate. She gently led hers through as well so I could close it behind them. "If I'm not mistaken and misreading, I do believe you repeated yourself with a different emphasis."
"Well, let's make sure no one ever calls you a fool."
"I hear that accusation quite often, actually. Around here as well, just so you're not mistaken."
She snorted, waiting until I had mounted my horse. “Then perhaps those that say it are the real fools."
"Well, Ambrose probably said it at least once, so I'll be sure to tell him you said that."
"He would probably agree he was a fool if he heard I was the one who said it."
"And your father has certainly given me a look that says he's probably thinking it."
"Actually," Elizabeth said and I didn't have to look at her to know she was smiling. "You might be surprised what my father thinks about you."
"If I even ended up on your father's radar beyond an extra pair of hands he...obtained from Rapture, I’d be surprised, let alone him having anything close to a positive opinion."
"Believe it or not, it came about because of Joseph."
"Oh, well, I'm sure his opinion is bound to be full of cheer and positivity."
She laughed. “He's also been sour in face and words; don't let him get to you."
"If I let every person with a foul attitude and a dim view of me get to me, I’d have collapsed in on myself a long time ago," I assured her.
"Well, perhaps there is something you might be able to teach my brother," Elizabeth said, glancing over at me. "Sometimes I fear he takes too much to heart. It would do him good to have someone who can teach him to ignore a few things here and there."
"I wouldn't worry too much. He has thick skin. It's not as thick as he pretends, but it's not as thin as you fear."
"I suppose."
I couldn't tell if I was defending him or reassuring her. It wasn't like I was an expert when it came to Ambrose, not compared to her anyway. Then again, there were parts of ourselves we kept from our loved ones more than we might someone we didn't know. If you spent enough time around people, you built up a certain expectation in their minds about who you were and how you were going to react to something.
I had no siblings, but I knew that, in many ways, the sibling bond only encouraged that kind of thing. As the youngest, Ambrose had spent his whole life under his brother's shadow and constantly trying to keep Elizabeth safe and happy. He had undoubtedly sacrificed a great deal of himself along the way, putting others first even as part of him seemed intent on trying to prove he could stand alone. His brother wouldn't care about that sort of thing or even try to see it, but Elizabeth was different. She was also his sister, whom he felt beholden to in ways that prevented him from opening up to her.
Not that he had told me any of that, but I watched, and I noticed things. It didn't hurt that he had been easing off on being a hard ass with me, and I was able to see the person under all the masks he slipped on without realizing what he was doing. Elizabeth hadn't been wrong in saying he was mostly heart because he really was. I could understand, perhaps better than most, what it meant to bury your heart away from the world because of what the world could be like if you wore it on your sleeve, but it was still a shame because I suspected there was a lot more warmth inside him to be found.
"In any case," she resumed as we trotted along, her eyes sweeping the horizon as we approached a large outcrop of rocks. Not the same one Ambrose and I had altered our relationship on all those weeks ago, but similar in size and how it stretched out of sight. "Joseph was, unsurprisingly, speaking ill of you. Called you a nosy fool."
"Ah, back to that. I suppose he's not too far off. My mother liked to say I was too curious for my own good. Of course, that was when I’d asked her why she couldn't have more children shortly after she received the news that if she tried to have another, she wouldn't live to bring the child into the world. A rather touchy subject to be poked so tactlessly by a child."
"Children don't understand the concept of tact," Elizabeth said with a laugh. "And for the record, my father silenced Joseph in a way that only our father can do."
"By staring at him?"
"By telling him the only foolish thing is to believe the first thing you assume about someone is how they are. And that often the greatest fools are hiding more knowledge than they might appear to have."
"Oh...well, that is...I'm not quite sure how to react to that, actually," I admitted with a nervous laugh. "That sounds like something your father would say...but not about me."
"There is a lot more to my father than most people, even his children can see. Joseph is too stuck on trying not just to take our father's place but also to prove he can be better than him in the long run. And Ambrose is too busy trying to prove he's worthy of our father's respect to see him as a person. In many ways, our father is as trapped in his position as I am. There are expectations and unwritten rules attached to our roles, just like my brothers. Unlike them, however, my father and I know all about that, and we've accepted it."
"This from the woman who managed to bully her overly protective brother into letting her roam free."
"Bully is such an ugly word."
"Let me take a guess: you’d prefer to use negotiate instead."
"Aggressively negotiate, but yes."
"Of course. A woman after my own heart."
She gave a harsh snort. “I am a taken woman, happily married and faithful. Don't get any ideas."
I glanced over at her. “If your brother thought I was even remotely a threat to your virtue, do you think he would have chosen me to be your companion in these adventures of yours?"
"It does present a few reasonable questions, doesn't it?"
"Not really. Your brother knows I am no threat to your virtue...even if you have been eyeballing my 'virtues' a few times when you think I'm not looking."
I was pleased to see some color rise to her cheeks. “You know, perhaps your mother was right. You are too curious and nosy for your own good."
"That's just observant. I can't help that when Ambrose gets flustered, I tend to pay attention to what's causing it."