Chapter Nineteen
It was morning, and June was exhausted.
She had tossed and turned all night. Seth was already out tending to the ranch.
She knew because the sun was up, and because she’d heard him.
First it was the sound of his heavy boots slapping over the hardwood floor.
Next was the sound of the front door slamming and even heavier feet out on the porch.
Then it was the sound of the barn door creaking open and slamming against the wall, the rattling of metal gates from inside the barn and tin jugs being kicked out of the way.
She could tell he was furious just by listening, but when she got up to stand by the window, she saw him, and that was far worse.
His movements were tense and his posture stiff. He didn’t have the finesse that came from his years of routine. This time, he looked scattered, like every thought and every movement was a jumbled mess.
She tugged at her necklace as she watched him lead the horses out to pasture. A pang of guilt shot through her. It was obvious he was going to avoid her today. She couldn’t exactly blame him.
The mail-order brides, and the confession that she knew very well could be coming.
Sighing, she turned away from the window and leaned against the wall, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Maybe it’s time to go.
She tried to focus on what was important: keeping herself and her friends safe.
The idea of staying in a place she didn’t belong didn’t sit right. Besides, if she kept moving, there was a pretty good chance she could find the money she needed to get Trey off her back for good.
Here, Seth had little Trey might like in the first place. Besides, making Seth a mark hadn’t made much sense from the beginning. He was a man. Trey would have been angry if she went against his rule to take only women’s things, and there was nothing here.
Seth’s mother’s and sister’s things were lacking in monetary value and were among some of the more sentimental things in the house. Even if June could pawn a few things away, it hardly seemed right. She wasn’t completely cruel, and she didn’t have the heart. She was tired. And sad.
She wouldn’t be able to take those things from him—not knowing what she knew now.
After all, she would have never forgiven someone if they had taken her necklace. If someone had helped themselves to her necklace, she might have easily broken Trey’s rules about her gun.
I should get going…
There wasn’t anything left for her here. For Etta, and Ada, yes… but not for her.
She could start over somewhere. She’d done it before. Her friends—her family, really—had found what they were looking for. They didn’t need her dragging them down.
I’ll leave without them, then.
And she’d have to do it without saying goodbye. No matter how much that idea felt like a knife twisting in her chest.
It was the right thing to do.
Her throat tightened, and she quickly grabbed her shawl, shoving the painful thoughts aside. She needed to clear her head. Seth was too busy to notice, so she took her chance and left.
The sun was climbing the sky, casting a golden heat.
Her boots crunched against the tight dirt of the ground as soon as she hopped off the porch, and they carried her almost aimlessly.
She looked over at the fence and grazing cattle, memories of the past few days swirling thickly in her head, clouding her sight.
She appreciated that Seth had let her do outside chores.
She felt a fondness toward the way he had shown her how to do things, rather than belittle or berate her as every other man had done.
She wandered north, knowing she would eventually get to town.
She walked for what felt like hours. It was a trek.
A long one. She had never gone on foot, and they ached terribly by the time Fort Davis came into view.
She blew out a heavy breath as she continued walking toward it. She was already dreading the walk back.
If she did walk back.
She limped onto main street and was passing the saloon—well, she had planned to pass it, until a woman casually leaning against the side wall in the alley caught her eye.
Hazel.
There was an edge to her posture. She seemed cautious, but more reassured.
June almost turned back, but something kept her rooted to the ground and her gaze plastered on the other woman.
She studied her for a moment before taking a steadying breath.
She wasn’t sure what was getting into her, but there was something pulling her toward the woman who’d held Seth’s heart before.
When Hazel noticed her coming closer, she straightened up and cleared her throat, but her expression was practically unreadable.
“Morning,” June said, calm, but still cautious.
“Morning,” Hazel replied, her tone clipped. She seemed to be wondering if the conversation was worth her time—or her health, considering that Thomas Turner likely would not want her fraternizing with the likes of June.
June felt the familiar twist of discomfort but pushed through. “Can we talk?” she asked, watching Hazel’s brow lift in curiosity. “About Seth Whitman. About…everything.”
Hazel frowned, and some subtle, shadowed emotion seemed to dance over her face. She looked like she’d just seen a ghost. “What’s there to talk about?”
“I want to understand,” June said, choosing her words carefully. “You. Him. All of it.”
Hazel’s lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, June thought the woman might brush her off entirely, but then Hazel sighed and shifted her weight and rolled her eyes, relenting.
“Fine,” she sighed. “Let’s talk. Over there…” She motioned toward the inn and June nodded. Probably a good idea, considering Turner was likely lingering around.
Hazel led them to the side alley of the boardinghouse and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her eyes cool and assessing. “Well?” she said. “Let’s have it. What do you want to know?”
“I want to know what happened between you and Seth,” June said, keeping her voice steady despite the knot forming in her stomach.
Hazel’s expression tightened. “We were engaged,” she said faintly. “A long time ago.”
June’s chest tightened. There was no bitterness in Hazel’s voice. It was only a matter-of-fact tone, and that somehow stung even more. Not out of jealousy, but out of sympathy for Seth…
Did she ever love him?
“I started working here during the war out of necessity,” Hazel explained quietly.
“My parents died, left me in a lot of debt. With Seth off fighting, I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again.
Thomas told me that in a year, I’d make all the money I needed to make to pay off my debts. But… then Seth came home.”
She sighed deeply, like a lifetime of memories had come rushing back. “I was forced to break it off with him. Thomas said that if I didn’t, he’d kill us both.”
“And now?” June asked softly.
“Now?” Hazel shrugged. “I’ve moved on. I don’t love Seth anymore.
He’s a different man than the one who left before the war.
That’s life, I suppose. And I know he doesn’t love me anymore, either.
And from the looks of it, he’s got you. Whatever happened back then doesn’t matter anymore.
If you’re worried about me getting in the way, don’t.
I’m not pining after him, and I’m no threat to you. ”
June blinked, taken aback. “We—”
“Are married?” Hazel shot sarcastically.
Before June could respond, a man appeared at the entrance of the alley. “Hazel?” he called. “You weren’t where you said y—” Then he stopped speaking when he saw June.
She turned back to Hazel and saw that the expression on her face immediately brightened as she stepped forward gleefully to greet him.
“Sorry, we got wrapped up!” Hazel exclaimed to him. June studied the man more carefully—only to find her stomach immediately twisted into a tight knot. The man was familiar, but she couldn’t place where she’d seen him before.
He was handsome enough. Young and lean, darn near tall as a tree, with perfectly groomed hair and an all-white spotless suit.
Bold choice… A white suit with nothing but dirt around.
“June Thatcher, this is Asher Burns,” Hazel said, oblivious to June’s sour reaction. “My boyfriend.”
Asher Burn’s polite nod felt like a punch to the gut.
Where do I know him from?
“Nice to meet you,” he added, just as politely as he’d nodded.
June managed a stiff smile, her heart hammering in her chest. “You as well, sir.”
Her body screamed at her to run. She knew this man from somewhere. Someone from her past—and that was not a good thing.
“If you’ll excuse me, I really need to be getting on back home,” she said nervously.
Panic clawed at her so harshly that her vision began to blur. She turned and stumbled out of the alley, her speed slowly increasing until she was practically running out of town. She was almost in the clear when she remembered.
Asher.
She knew that name.
He was one of Trey’s men.
He can’t be here.
She began running faster. But she wasn’t so far out of town that she didn’t hear a piercing scream that froze her to the spot. “The general store is on fire!” Ada.
“No…” Shuddering, June spun around, just as she heard a woman’s shriek that sounded horribly like Louise. She looked up to the sky and her breath caught in her throat. Ada!
She turned quickly on her heel, dirt flying up as she bolted back toward the general store. Smoke was curling into the sky and her stomach dropped. Please don’t be inside, Ada!
People were already rushing toward the flames. “Water!” men yelled. “Bring water!”
Their voices were urgent, but not as urgent as June’s as she continued to force her legs to move. “Who is inside?” she demanded as she ran into Louise.
“Everyone got out,” Louise breathed, just as Jack and Henry came around the corner with buckets, frantically tossing as much water onto the blaze as they had.
But it was clear that they were fighting a losing battle.
“Get more water!” Jack shouted over the roar of the flames.
June’s eyes darted through the crowd, still panicked. She couldn’t see Ada—or Etta, for that matter.
Then, she heard Henry wail, “This was you!”
She whirled around to follow his voice, and saw him pointing an accusing finger at none other than Thomas Turner, who stood there with a face as cold and impassive as stone.
“I had nothing to do with it!” Turner snapped back, spitting at Henry’s boot.
Henry stepped closer, his presence more threatening than June had ever seen. “You’ve been nothing but trouble for this town. Now we’ve got proof.”
“Outta my way!” It was Ada, shoving through the crowd.
June felt an insurmountable amount of relief roll through her. “Thank God!” she cried, charging toward Ada and jerking her into a tight embrace.
Ada squirmed free, hot as an iron ready to press clothes. “That no good, yellow-bellied son of a—”
“Ada!” June hissed in warning, pointing to Henry, Jack and Thomas.
Her heart pounded as she watched, her hands clenching into fists. This wasn’t even just about justice—it was about Henry seizing his chance to get the upper hand on Thomas Turner, once and for all.
But if she didn’t know any better, she might’ve said it looked almost like the fire had been a convenient excuse, and Turner was the scapegoat. She felt a twinge of unease in her belly. She didn’t like the man, but she never liked even vermin being accused of crimes they didn’t commit.
“You’re under arrest,” Henry declared, his tone hard as he motioned a few men to come forward. Turner shot a desperate look at the crowd, but no one stepped forward to help. The three men took his arms and pulled him toward the jail.
He had clearly burned a lot of bridges.
June’s stomach churned as he was led away. She wasn’t sure if he’d done it or not. It wouldn’t have surprised her if he had—but seeing Asher Burns there and knowing Trey was somehow be nearby, it wouldn’t have surprised her if Trey hadn’t had something to do with it.
As the men hauled Turner toward the jailhouse, June shifted her gaze back to the flames—and the store.
Jack stood near the edge of the crowd, his shoulders completely slumped in defeat. That store was his livelihood. But as Ada went to take his arm, something told June that he would build his way up again. He was a Landry, after all. They practically owned the town.
Still, as she saw Ada pull Jack into an embrace, she felt heavy, and more than anything, sad.
And then, suddenly, worried… and she wasn’t quite sure why.
***
Seth was in the barn by the time she got back, his movements slow and deliberate. He didn’t acknowledge her at first. At least, not outwardly. His shoulders stiffened as her footsteps grew near.
“There was a fire,” she said quietly.
“Yeah,” he replied, his tone clipped. He was annoyed. Angry, maybe. He didn’t look at her. His gaze was locked onto Skip.
She tried again. “And Thomas was arrested for it.”
“Arrested,” Seth said. “That so?”
June hesitated, her hands twisting nervously. “It wasn’t fair. Henry just wanted an excuse to get rid of him—he didn’t even look like he’d been around a fire—”
“Fair don’t mean much out here,” he said abruptly, finally facing her, his jaw clenched and expression hard. “You should know that by now.”
His words stung. He was right. Fair wasn’t fair in the west, but that didn’t mean it was the right way.
June had encountered that sort of thing her whole life. “And you’re alright with that?” she asked.
He sighed before running a hand through his hair. He seemed to grow angrier the longer she stood in front of him, but she knew what kind of man Seth Whitman was, despite the fact that she had made every effort to not get close. There was no way he was alright with something like that.
The man hadn’t even put her out on her rump, and he’d had every reason to.
It was because he was honorable. And good.
She watched as he took a few steadying breaths, clearly trying to control himself as she asked another question.
“You would be alright with a man sitting in jail even though he had nothing to do with something?”
“No, I’m not,” Seth said angrily. “But what do you expect me to do about it? Go after Henry and start a fight I can’t win? Turner deserves to go to jail whether he caused that fire or not, but if I was a bettin’ man, I’d tell you right now, it was probably him. Or someone working for him.”
That didn’t sit well with June.
She wasn’t sure why—snake or not, if Turner didn’t start the fire, he shouldn’t be in jail for it. She knew how to read people, and there was something about the look in his eyes that said he really didn’t start that fire.