Chapter Five
The morning sun had barely begun to crest the distant Montana hills when Deborah stepped out onto Nolan Avery’s porch with her valise clutched tightly in one gloved hand and fear pressing heavily against her ribs.
The air smelled of dew-soaked grass and cold earth, sharp enough to sting her lungs. Somewhere nearby, cattle lowed softly beyond the fence line, and the rhythmic creak of leather harnesses carried from where Nolan secured the last strap on the wagon team.
Everything felt painfully normal. Which somehow made the danger feel worse.
Thankfully, sometime during the darkness of the late hour, Nolan had concealed the important documents in a box.
He had buried them somewhere on his land beneath the shelter of a tree.
He dressed entirely in black and waited for the clouds to obscure the moon, ensuring that no one would notice his movements as he worked.
During their journey, Deborah would take only a single piece of evidence with her, carefully tucked away and hidden within her petticoats.
Deborah descended the porch steps carefully, shifting her gaze instinctively toward the open fields surrounding the ranch.
Ever since Nolan had discovered those tracks beneath her window, she could not stop imagining unseen eyes lingering just beyond sight.
She tightened her fingers around her valise.
Nolan glanced up as she approached. He had already saddled one horse behind the wagon and packed supplies beneath the bench seat. The revolver strapped low against his hip did little to soothe her nerves. If anything, it made the situation feel more frighteningly real.
“Are you ready?” he asked quietly.
No. Not remotely. But Deborah nodded anyway.
The fewer hours she remained here, the safer Nolan’s daughter and brother would be. That thought alone steadied her enough to climb into the wagon without argument.
Nolan moved toward the driver’s seat just as the distant clatter of wheels drifted across the morning stillness. Both of them turned. Deborah’s stomach dropped.
A horse and buggy rolled steadily up the drive, stirring little clouds of dust behind it.
The middle-aged woman seated at the reins wore an enormous straw hat adorned with faded silk flowers—that matched the color of her dress—and the expression of someone arriving precisely where she intended to be.
Nolan muttered something beneath his breath that Deborah strongly suspected was not polite. He fisted his hands, still holding the reins.
“Who is that?” she whispered.
“Hetty Parsons.”
The way he said the name suggested it explained everything. Unfortunately, it explained nothing to Deborah except perhaps impending doom.
The buggy stopped directly in front of the house with theatrical slowness. Hetty Parsons surveyed the scene before her with bright, eager eyes that missed absolutely nothing. Most certainly not Deborah alone with Nolan at sunrise.
“Well now,” Hetty said cheerfully. “Would you look at that.”
Nolan’s jaw visibly tightened. “Morning, Hetty.”
“I heard there was excitement at your ranch yesterday.” Her gaze slid immediately to Deborah. “And here I thought folks were exaggerating.”
Deborah forced herself to offer a polite nod despite the dreadful sensation creeping slowly upward from her stomach.
Hetty beamed at her. “Oh, she’s pretty too, Mr. Avery.”
Nolan stepped between the two vehicles, though whether to shield Deborah or himself remained unclear.
“What do you need, Hetty?”
“What I need,” Hetty replied, “is to know whether this lovely young woman is your wife.”
Deborah nearly choked on air.
“She is not,” Nolan answered immediately.
Hetty blinked once. Then again. “Well... That isn’t good at all.”
The sentence carried astonishing disappointment.
Deborah wished suddenly and desperately to disappear into the wagon seat.
Hetty tilted her head. “Then perhaps you intend to marry her, and you’re on your way now?”
“No.”
Again, Hetty appeared surprised... and in disbelief, as though she wasn’t certain which expression to have.
Deborah felt a peculiar sting when Nolan answered the woman’s blunt question. She forced herself to ignore it, recognizing that dwelling on such feelings would only lead her into unnecessary confusion and distress.
Hetty’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Um... I see.”
That tone suggested she saw entirely too much. The woman’s gaze moved deliberately between them before settling back on Nolan with terrifying purpose.
Deborah braced herself, both mentally and physically, for the inevitable confrontation she felt was about to unfold.
She could almost sense the tension building in the air, and she steeled herself for the difficult questions and judgments that she anticipated would soon follow.
The anxious anticipation weighed heavily on her, underscoring her discomfort with the situation.
“Are you saying she spent the night here?”
It was not phrased as a question, and Deborah wanted to hide... or bury herself next to the hidden evidence.
Nolan crossed his arms. “Hetty, it’s really none of your—”
“No, no, don’t interrupt,” she said briskly. “I’m trying to understand precisely how much trouble you’ve created before breakfast.”
Heat rushed painfully into Deborah’s face, and she couldn’t stop the thoughts from tumbling out of her mouth. “We slept in separate rooms, if you must know.”
Hetty waved a dismissive hand. “Dear girl, reputations are not protected by hallways.”
Nolan closed his eyes briefly like a man reconsidering every life decision that had led him to this moment.
He cleared his throat and straightened his stance. “Miss Prescott arrived late,” he said tightly. “There wasn’t another place for her to stay.”
Hetty arched an eyebrow and leaned forward.
“You must have forgotten that I own the boarding house, and yet you didn’t bother to ask if I had a spare room.
And now an unmarried woman has spent the entire night under your roof.
Alone.” She shook her head. “For shame, Mr. Avery. I thought a gentleman like you would know better.”
Nolan’s expression hardened. “Nothing improper happened.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second,” Hetty replied. “But gossiping mouths in town won’t care.”
Deborah’s pulse pounded hard. Faster. Making her head spin. Indeed, she understood too well the accusations being made. A woman’s reputation was fragile enough under ordinary circumstances. A single night alone in a man’s home—particularly in a small town like Willowhaven—could ruin her entirely.
The realization settled coldly into her stomach.
Hetty looked almost sympathetic now, which was somehow more terrifying.
“You may not understand how quickly gossip spreads in a place like this, Miss Prescott. I assure you, by suppertime, every woman in Willowhaven will believe you have been compromised. By tomorrow morning, half of them will assume you’re carrying twins. ”
Deborah stared at her in horror, her face flaming hotly. Conversations like this should not be brought up among strangers.
Nolan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hetty, please. No more.”
“Can’t you see that I’m being realistic?”
“You’re being a menace.” Nolan removed his hat and swept his fingers through his hair.
“Same thing most days. You should be used to it by now.”
Deborah looked helplessly between them, wringing her hands on her lap. Her mind scrambled for words... for something intelligent to say that would stop this madness. Unfortunately, nothing was forthcoming.
“We’re leaving,” she finally said. “Right now, in fact. You see, there was a mix-up, and well... Mr. Avery is taking me to the train to return home. Surely that solves the issue.”
Hetty turned toward her with genuine pity. “Oh, sweetheart. Leaving makes it worse.”
Of course it did. Why would anything in Deborah’s life become simpler now? Every hour after discovering the widow’s documents, strange things have been happening. Indeed, she was cursed!
Hetty folded her gloved hands atop the buggy reins. “An unmarried woman arrives from out east, spends the night alone with a widower rancher, then vanishes at sunrise?” She shook her head solemnly. “Scandalous to be sure.”
Nolan exhaled sharply. “I do not have time for this.”
“You will have even less time once the church ladies get hold of it.”
A dreadful silence followed.
Then Hetty lifted her chin haughtily, as if getting ready to deliver the killing blow. “If you refuse to do right by the girl, I’ll have no choice but to tell people exactly what I saw this morning.”
Deborah’s breath caught. Do right by the girl? That could only mean one thing...
Nolan’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “That sounds suspiciously like blackmail.”
Hetty smiled pleasantly. “Call it community encouragement.”
“You cannot possibly be serious,” he snapped.
“I’m entirely serious.” She pointed toward Deborah. “That poor child will never recover from the whispers otherwise.”
Deborah suddenly wished the Sapphire Widow would appear and end her suffering immediately. At least that woman would probably use fewer words.
Nolan looked ready to argue further, but then his gaze shifted toward Deborah. And stayed. She was certain her expression was filled with panic, all the while humiliation burned across her face. Slowly, the terrible understanding filled her with worry and unease.
Because Hetty was right. Ruined reputations did not recover, especially not for women alone in the world.
Deborah swallowed hard. “Mr. Avery, you don’t have to—”
“Yes, he does,” Hetty interrupted firmly.
Nolan shot the busybody woman another look. This one was capable of wilting crops. But Hetty remained unmoved.
For one long moment, silence hung between them. Then Nolan muttered something beneath his breath and dragged a hand through his hair again.
“Fine,” he grumbled.
Deborah blinked in disbelief.
Hetty brightened instantly. “Wonderful.”
Nolan pointed directly at her. “You are enjoying this far too much.”
“I enjoy order.”
“You enjoy meddling.”
Hetty nodded. “That, too.”
Deborah stared at Nolan, her heartbeat suddenly became loud enough to drown out the morning wind.
“Wait,” she whispered. “You can’t possibly mean—”
Nolan met her gaze, and for the first time since she’d met him, Deborah saw that he was just as trapped by this moment as she was.
“I won’t leave you to be torn apart by gossip,” he said quietly.
The gentleness of it made her chest ache, which only frightened her more. Because this really was madness. She had known this man scarcely more than a day. And now—
Marriage.
The word crashed through her mind like thunder.
A husband. A home. A life she had never intended to claim. Worse still, fear coiled viciously beneath it all.
If the Sapphire Widow discovered this... or if danger followed them here, then Nolan Avery had just tied himself permanently to a hunted woman.
Hetty clapped her hands once decisively. “Excellent. We’ll go see Judge Bennett immediately.”
“We?” Nolan repeated flatly.
“Oh, I’m absolutely coming. All weddings need a witness.” Hetty turned her buggy around before either could object. “Someone must make certain neither of you loses your senses halfway there.”
Nolan muttered another curse.
Deborah sat frozen in the wagon seat as he climbed up beside her moments later. The horses started forward. Hetty followed close behind.
For several minutes, neither Deborah nor Nolan spoke. The only sounds were wagon wheels grinding against dirt and the steady beat of Deborah’s terrified heart.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, barely audible.
Nolan kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
After a moment, he sighed heavily. “So am I.”