Chapter Fourteen
Daniel wiped down the worn bar, the familiar scent of old wood and whiskey filling the room. His hands moved with practiced ease, the rhythm of his work helping to settle his thoughts.
Sam, the saloon keeper, worked beside him, setting chairs in their places and preparing for the afternoon crowd. The two men worked in silence for a while, each absorbed in their own tasks, the sound of clinking glasses and the scraping of furniture the only noise in the room.
Eventually, it was Sam who broke the silence. “So, Mary said you ran into William Carter this morning,” he said, his tone casual but his gaze sharp as he glanced over at Daniel.
Daniel paused, his grip tightening around the rag in his hand. “Yeah,” he said, his voice gruff. “If you can call it that.”
Sam let out a low whistle and shook his head. “That man’s always been trouble. Not surprised to hear he tried to give you hell.”
Daniel didn’t respond right away, his jaw clenched as he resumed wiping down the bar. He wasn’t one to dwell on anger, but when it came to William Carter, it was hard not to. “He’s worse than I thought,” Daniel muttered, his tone dark. “Can’t believe the state of that cabin.”
Sam’s face hardened, and he set down the glass he had been polishing. “Heard rumors for years, but I wasn’t sure how bad it was.”
Daniel looked at him, curiosity piqued. “Did you know Edith was there?”
Sam nodded, leaning against the bar, his expression thoughtful. “William Carter’s been a mean drunk as long as I can remember. But it wasn’t always like that. Back when he first married, folks thought he might’ve changed for the better.”
Daniel’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t expected that. “Married?”
“Yeah,” Sam continued, crossing his arms over his chest. “It was years ago, long before you came around these parts. He married a young woman—Sarah, I think her name was. Sweet girl, everyone said so. They seemed happy at first, or at least as happy as anyone could be with a man like William.”
“What happened to her?” Daniel asked, his voice quiet, sensing the answer wasn’t going to be pleasant.
Sam’s eyes darkened. “She died in childbirth,” he said, his voice heavy. “I figured she’d lost the baby, too, but didn’t find out differently until a long while later. William started drinking harder, gambling more. It’s like he lost whatever small bit of decency he had left when she died.”
Daniel was silent for a moment, letting Sam’s words sink in. It explained a lot—William’s cruelty, his bitterness. The man had lost everything, but that didn’t excuse what he had become. Losing someone wasn’t an excuse to turn on the people still living.
“Who took care of Edith as a baby?” Daniel asked, perplexed. “Can’t see William tending for a newborn.”
Sam shrugged. “I think there might’ve been someone in his or her family that watched after her, someone older that passed away when Edith was still young. Old enough to sorta fend for herself but not old enough to move on.”
“He never remarried?” Daniel asked, though he could already guess the answer.
Sam shook his head. “No. After Sarah, he didn’t seem to care much about anything except his drink.
Took it out on everyone around him, especially Edith.
” He sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck.
“The few times I saw them in town together, she was always trying to keep her head down. Guess it makes sense now, doesn’t it? ”
Daniel’s chest tightened. He thought of Edith, her small, fragile form trembling under her father’s harsh words.
She had grown up under that kind of abuse—lost in a household ruled by a man who had given up on life.
It wasn’t just her father’s cruelty that had hurt her; it was the years of neglect, of being made to feel like she didn’t matter.
“She deserves better,” Daniel said quietly, more to himself than to Sam.
Sam nodded in agreement. “That she does. And it’s good you stepped in when you did. That girl’s lucky to have someone looking out for her now.”
Daniel didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure if Edith felt lucky, and he wasn’t sure if he was the right person to be looking after her, but he couldn’t just stand by and let her life continue down the path her father had set for her.
He’d seen enough pain in his own life to know that some things had to be stopped before they got worse.
“You done good, Daniel,” Sam added, his voice filled with conviction. “And you know, maybe this whole thing’s part of a bigger plan.”
Daniel glanced at Sam, unsure what he meant.
Sam smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. “We don’t always know why things happen the way they do. But sometimes, we’re put in the right place at the right time for a reason.” He clapped Daniel on the shoulder. “Maybe you were meant to help that girl.”
Daniel looked away, his mind turning over Sam’s words. He didn’t believe in fate or destiny, but there was something about Edith that had drawn him in from the start. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe he was meant to protect her, to give her a chance at something better.
Sam sighed heavily, leaning against the bar as he wiped his hands on a rag.
His voice lowered, almost as if the weight of the words he was about to speak required a quieter tone.
“There’s somethin’ else, Daniel. Somethin’ that always lingered in the shadows about William Carter.
Rumors, mostly, but enough to make people uneasy. ”
Daniel raised an eyebrow, sensing the seriousness in Sam’s voice. “What kind of rumors?”
Sam glanced around, even though the saloon was empty except for the two of them.
“Folks said William was takin’ advantage of poor girls.
Girls who had nowhere to go, no family, no way to make a livin’.
He’d offer ‘em shelter, but it came at a price. He’d make ‘em... sell themselves. For money. To men in town.”
Daniel’s stomach churned at the thought. He gripped the bar tighter, his knuckles turning white. He had suspected William was bad, but this... this was worse than he had imagined.
“There were a few girls who went missin’,” Sam continued, his voice grim. “Just vanished. Some people suspected William had somethin’ to do with it, but there was never any proof. No one could pin anything on him.”
Daniel frowned, his mind racing. “And no one ever did anything?”
Sam shook his head. “Not without proof. And the girls who might’ve talked... well, they were too scared. Or gone. You know how it is in a town like this. People talk, but they don’t always act.”
“What do you think happened to those girls?” Daniel asked, his voice low, barely controlled.
Sam shrugged, his face dark with uncertainty. “No one knows. Could be they ran off, tryin’ to escape. Could be they didn’t make it far. Some folks think William had a hand in makin’ sure they didn’t talk. But like I said, no proof.”
Daniel’s mind flashed back to the night he’d seen Edith standing there in the saloon, her father’s grip on her arm, the fear in her eyes.
The same thing that had happened to those girls could have happened to her.
And he couldn’t shake the sickening thought that maybe William had been preparing to sell his own daughter in more ways than just to the highest bidder.
“That—” Daniel cursed, his voice hard with anger.
Sam gave a grim nod. “Yeah. There’s a lot more darkness in that man than most people realize.”
“I have to protect her,” Daniel said quietly, more to himself than to Sam.
“You already did,” Sam replied, his voice firm. “You got her away from that life, Daniel. She’s safe now.”
Daniel wasn’t so sure. The past had a way of creeping back, no matter how far someone ran. He wondered if Edith carried more scars than he could see, if her father’s evil would ever truly leave her. And now, knowing the rumors about William, Daniel wasn’t sure he could ever rest easy.
“What if those girls are still out there?” Daniel asked, his thoughts turning to the missing girls Sam had mentioned. “What if there’s more to this?”
Sam rubbed the back of his neck, his expression weary. “Maybe there is. But you can’t fix everything, Daniel. The best you can do now is make sure Edith doesn’t have to face any more of that pain.”
Daniel nodded, but the unease remained. But one thing was certain: he wasn’t going to let William Carter hurt anyone else.
“I’ll keep her safe,” Daniel said, his voice firm with resolve. “No matter what.”
Sam shook his head slowly, leaning closer as if sharing a dark secret. “You know, William kept Edith holed up in that cabin like a prisoner.”
Daniel’s frown deepened.
“She was just a kid,” Sam continued, his voice rough with sympathy. “People talked about it, but no one ever did anything. Guess they were all too scared of William. But that girl… she grew up in a way no one should ever have to.”
“I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like,” Daniel said quietly, his voice filled with sorrow. “To be held up in that cabin, never seeing the world, never having a chance to live.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah. It’s no wonder she’s so shaken. She’s been through more than most people could handle.” He sighed, glancing toward the door as if he could somehow see Edith through it.
Daniel wasn’t sure if “lucky” was the right word.
He had stepped in, sure, but it felt like more of a duty than a stroke of fortune.
Edith had been abandoned, betrayed by the one person who was supposed to protect her.
Now, he found himself in the role of protector, whether he had intended it or not.
Daniel looked at Sam, his resolve firm. “She’s been through enough. I’m going to make sure she doesn’t go back to anything like that again.”
Sam gave him a solemn nod. “You’re a good man, Daniel. And that girl… she needs someone like you in her corner.”
Daniel wasn’t sure about being a “good man.” He was just doing what anyone should do—protecting someone who deserved better. But as he thought about Edith, her timid presence and the sadness in her eyes, he knew he wouldn’t rest until she had the life she deserved.
“I’ll do what I can,” Daniel said, his voice steady.
Sam clapped him on the shoulder, a rare gesture of camaraderie from the usually reserved saloon owner. “You’re already doin’ more than most. Just keep lookin’ out for her. She’s gonna need it.”
Daniel nodded, but his thoughts were already drifting back to Edith. He couldn’t change her past, but he could help shape her future. And that, he realized, was what mattered most.
***
Later that afternoon, as they made the journey back to the cabin, Daniel couldn’t help but notice the change in Edith.
She sat a little taller in the cart, her shoulders less hunched, and there was a faint light in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.
The morning at the store, with Mary’s kindness and support, seemed to have given her a small measure of comfort.
The rhythmic sound of the cart’s wheels turning on the dirt road filled the quiet space between them.
Daniel glanced over at Edith, unsure of what to say.
He wasn’t the type to fill silence with idle talk, but there was something about her, the way she looked at him now with a hint of gratitude, that made him feel like he should say something.
Before he could find the right words, Edith spoke first.
“I wanted to thank you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn’t look at him as she spoke, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. “For what you did… with my father.”
Daniel blinked, surprised by her sudden acknowledgment. He hadn’t expected her to bring it up so soon, or at all, really. He shifted slightly in his seat, feeling the weight of her gratitude but unsure of how to respond.
“You don’t have to thank me,” Daniel said after a pause, his voice low. “It wasn’t right, what he did to you. No one should have to live like that.”
Edith nodded, but there was something more in her expression, something unspoken lingering in the air between them. He could sense it—the tension, the hesitation. There was something else she needed to say.
“Edith,” Daniel said gently, glancing over at her. “When we went back to the house… I could tell it wasn’t just about the clothes. You seemed desperate to go back. Was there something else?”
Edith’s face flushed slightly, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She looked away for a moment, biting her lip as if debating whether or not to tell him. After a long pause, she exhaled slowly and finally spoke.
“It was my Bible,” she confessed, her voice trembling just a little.
Daniel raised an eyebrow, curious now. “Your Bible?”
Edith hesitated, her eyes flicking downward. “My father never let me have anything of my own. Someone left it at the cabin one day, and it brought me comfort, even just a little bit.”
“You didn’t tell me,” Daniel said softly, though there was no accusation in his voice. “I would’ve helped you get it.”
Edith nodded, her eyes flickering with regret. “I didn’t want to burden you. And… I thought maybe I could handle it myself.” She paused, swallowing hard. “But when my father threw it…”
Her voice trailed off, and Daniel saw the raw hurt in her eyes. It wasn’t just the loss of the Bible—it was the deeper meaning behind it. That Bible had been her anchor, the one thing that had brought her peace in a life ruled by fear and uncertainty.
“I’m sorry,” Daniel said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I wish I could’ve done more to get it back for you.”
Edith shook her head quickly, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. “You did enough,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You got me out of there. And that’s more than I could’ve ever asked for.”
Daniel wanted to reach out to her, give her a hug, comfort her somehow. Edith had shared a piece of her past with him—a piece of her that she had kept hidden—and in doing so, she had allowed him to understand her in a way he hadn’t before. But he didn’t feel like he could, not yet.
As they pulled up to the cabin, the sun began to dip low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden light across the clearing.
Before they parted ways for the evening, Edith turned to him, her expression soft. “Thank you,” she said again, her voice steadier this time. “For everything.”
Daniel nodded, offering her a small smile. “Anytime.”
As Edith made her way toward the cabin, Daniel stood for a moment longer, watching her and wishing he could do more for her.