Chapter Fifteen
Jackson had been subject to his mother’s plotting yet again soon after their visit to the Blakes, and he subsequently found himself on a wagon with Hope at his side.
They’d been sent to Virginia City to buy some pantry supplies.
As they slowly made their way out of the valley, Jackson found it hard to believe that it had been just over a month since his first wagon ride with her.
He glanced at his wife, wondering if she was thinking the same thing, only to find her absorbed in the views around her. Each flowering bush or tree that had sprouted new leaves seemed to fascinate her.
Hope had been different since her visit with Clara. He sometimes found Hope quietly observing him from a comfortable distance. She’d hide behind a book if he caught her watching, and he could only imagine the kinds of stories Clara had told her. At least things had been easier between them.
In the month of having her at the ranch so far, he had begun to discover who she was beyond her beauty.
The day she had shyly blushed after watching him shirtless, or when he’d found her comforting one of the ewes after she’d had a stillborn, he’d gotten glimpses of that person.
He even thought he’d overheard her singing to the plants in the garden.
Despite the difficulties Hope had obviously endured, there was a lightness in her and a nurturing side she harbored that drew him to her.
There was truly so much more to Hope than her pretty eyes and rosy lips.
When he pulled up next to the general store, Jackson hurried over to help Hope off the wagon.
He noticed a group of women across the road watching them and frowned.
At least having Hope around meant they’d know he was married and leave him alone.
He noticed all of a sudden that they were focused on Hope, though.
“Do you know them?” he muttered while Hope was adjusting her bonnet.
“Mary?” Hope murmured, squinting at the woman who was waving from across the road. “Dorothy too, and Elizabeth.”
The huddle of women moved like a single organism as they bustled across the road in a bouquet of pastel-colored bonnets.
“Good morning, Hope,” Mary greeted her with a dimpled smile. “How are you?”
“Happy to see you,” Hope replied with a smile of her own. “How long has it been?”
“A month,” Dorothy replied, eyeing Jackson.
“Excuse me,’ Hope apologized. “Ladies, this is Jackson Hale, my husband.”
“Your husband!” Dorothy said. “I thought you said you were waiting for an Ethan Blake.”
Hope opened her mouth, her cheeks reddening.
“There was a mix-up at the newspaper,” Jackson cut in. “I was always meant to be her husband.”
Hope gave him a surprised glance, but she quickly covered this with a smile.
“Well now,” he heard Dorothy mutter. “And to think we were worried about ending up with plain husbands.”
“Mine is a little plain,” Mary admitted, “but he’s kind. I won’t be trampling him with my horse, that’s for sure.”
“Apparently Elizabeth is already trying for a child,” Dorothy said.
“Dorothy!” Elizabeth complained. “I told you not to tell anyone. Oh, Hope, do you think you’ll try for a child too?”
Hope spluttered something that Jackson didn’t hear.
There were some scattered giggles that Jackson automatically tuned out.
He thought of how easily he had told them that Hope was always meant to be his wife.
He considered himself a man of honesty, but the lie had come readily.
Did that mean he really…felt that way? He roughly pushed the thought away.
“We should be getting to the store, Hope,” Jackson cut in, urging her along. Mary’s perfume was wafting over heavily and starting to tickle his nose.
“Have a good day, ladies!” Hope called, waving to the ladies as they left.
“Are you alright?” Jackson asked, leaning down so he could better see her expression.
“Thank you for speaking up for me,” Hope said. “I didn’t know what to say when they asked about Ethan.” She paused for a moment and seemed to collect herself. “Anyway, Mary sure had a nice dress on.”
“You have a nice dress on, too,” Jackson said as he opened the store door for her. “Not that I notice your dresses,” he added stiffly. “But you always look nice in whatever you’re wearing.”
He decided it would be safer to simply stop talking. Thankfully, Hope was immediately distracted by a display of imported spices. Jackson lifted his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow, deciding it was the sight of all those ladies bearing down on them that had rattled him.
He pulled his list from his pocket and started collecting the supplies his Ma needed. He paused, his eyes settling on Hope as she stroked a bag of refined white sugar and then gasped and bounced on her feet as she pointed at a jar of vanilla beans.
Jackson stifled a smile and focused on his list again. He tore it in half and handed it over to Hope, who was sniffing at a packet of cloves.
“Could you see to the food items?” he asked, handing her a woven basket.
She smiled and nodded, disappearing farther into the store.
“Morning, Howard,” Jackson greeted the store owner. “I’m going to need some fencing supplies from you.”
“Not you too,” Howard complained. “Half the valley has been in here asking for nails and wire. They've been chewing my ear off all morning and have gone to see Sheriff Grady about it. Though how much good that’ll do is still to be seen.”
Jackson tried not to let his own worry show. It would only upset Hope, and he didn’t know how far the fence cutting had gone. He needed to find out more before panicking.
“All the same, I’ll need some wire, nails, and rope.”
“I’ve ordered in more wire, so you’ll have to wait, but the rest I can do you for,” Howard replied, making a note in his ledger. “Anything else?”
“Matches, lamp oil, and the Mrs. will bring the rest of the pantry items in a moment.”
“She’s a pretty little thing, Jackson, though I was sure my wife said you’d never marry,” Howard said with a gravelly chuckle.
“Well now,” Jackson said, keeping his eye on Hope, “we never really know what life’ll throw at us, now do we?”
“That’s for sure,” Howard agreed. “So long as you’re happy. In these uncertain times, we need to rally together with those closest to us to weather the storm.”
Jackson watched Hope hoist a large sack of flour under one arm, and knew that she was almost finished with the list. He hurried over to the spice stand as she looked for the last couple items and selected a jar, handing it to Howard.
“Wrap this up in some brown paper, will you?” Jackson asked.
Howard winked at him and added the item to his ledger along with the items Hope was just bringing up.
“I’ll let you know when that wire comes in,” Howard said as Jackson paid for everything.
Jackson felt Hope’s eyes land heavily on him. She missed nothing. Every time there was the slightest mention of ranch sabotage, Hope’s hazel eyes would flash with recognition and she’d grow silent.
“Thank you, Howard,” Jackson said.
“One more thing,” Howard added, giving Jackson a serious look. “The boys sure would appreciate you standing with them over at the Sheriff’s.”
“Howard, I-” Jackson began protesting, scratching at his beard agitatedly.
He felt uncomfortable with Hope keenly listening in on Howard’s request. He could feel in his bones that something bad was brewing, and he had resisted being a part of it so far. It was not his fight. Not anymore.
“Now, now,” Howard said, raising his hands. “I don’t want to hear it, Jackson. You’re still a respected man in this town, and your word holds power.”
Jackson sighed. He nodded silently after a beat. He knew that ‘standing with the boys’ would only put him in the line of fire. His eyes strayed to Hope and the frown on her face, her brows furrowed.
“What do you say about it, Mrs. Hale?” Howard prompted again, still trying to get a rise out of Jackson.
Hope turned from Jackson to Howard and smiled. “I think my husband knows precisely the right thing to do, Mr. Howard, I assure you. Good day to you.”
Jackson smirked at Howard while collecting the parcels.
He certainly hadn’t expected Hope to say anything, especially since she didn’t know what Howard was referring to, but he valued her steady support nonetheless.
Hope had positioned herself on Jackson’s side, and just like Ethan, she had spoken up for him.
He had to admit, it felt good to have someone stand with him, even though he hadn’t even told her everything.
They loaded up the wagon in silence, and still Hope did not ask him about Howard’s comments. She took his hand and climbed up onto the wagon without saying a thing. Jackson grew more agitated, walking back and forth near the wagon while he thought.
Hope sighed loudly and gave him a look. “Jackson, if you want to go, don’t hold back on my account. I’ll keep my nose out of it.”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, again startled by her observation. He nodded, then climbed up on the wagon and turned towards the Sheriff’s office. Before they even reached the old wooden building, Jackson could hear raised voices.
“I lost five steers in one night!” one angry man was shouting, his fist in the air. “Those were ready for sale and worth a pretty penny!”
“Now, Simon,” Sheriff Grady said, his voice droning over the rest of the shouting, “how do you know your steers didn’t just break through the line and make a run for it? Not everything can be blamed on this mysterious sabotage!”
Sheriff Walter Grady chuckled at his own joke, his laughter like boots marching through grit.
Jackson always thought the Sheriff’s tired eyes were the dull color of lead, and lacked even the smallest spark of life.
His grey hair and beard were straggly beneath a worn hat.
They locked eyes briefly and the Sheriff shook his head at Jackson, as if warning him not to come closer.
“Well, there must be something in the drinking water then, because my steers have gone and done the same darn thing!” another rancher said, tossing his hat in the dirt.
There was a roar of laughter at this, and Jackson quietly climbed off the wagon, muttering to Hope to stay put.
“Perhaps you should build stronger fences, Nathaniel!” the Sheriff shouted at him, much to the ire of the rest of the ranchers.
“Now hold on right there, Sheriff,” Nathaniel said, putting his hands on his hips. “Do you really think that after forty years I don’t know how to build a proper fence?”
“That’s not what I’m saying, Nathaniel, and you know it,” Sheriff Grady said in a tired drawl. “I’m just saying you boys need to calm down and tend to your ranches instead of chasing after rumors.”
“Rumors!” another rancher barked. “My water pipes were broken by someone last night. Ain’t just rumors, that’s for sure.”
“Come on now, Old David! How do you know it’s not Nathaniel or Simon’s steers trampling your water pipes?”
Jackson could feel the tension growing around him, and he knew some of the ranchers in the valley were looking to him to speak up. He had vowed he never would again, but somehow he always got dragged into other people’s problems, and he couldn’t stop himself from doing what he felt was needed.
“Sheriff Grady,” he said in a low voice, forcing the others to stay quiet while he spoke. “Would it cause any harm to just go out and look at the problems the ranchers are talking about? If there is trouble in our community, then we need to act quickly.”
There was a loud wave of noisy approval and agreement as Jackson spoke up.
“Need I remind you, Jackson Hale, that you’re no longer Sheriff in this town?” Grady said, settling a steely gaze on him. “You’re far more suited to looking after sheep, or so I hear.”
Jackson clenched his jaw as he felt the sting of Grady’s words grate against him.
The worst part was that Grady was correct.
Jackson had no place speaking out against the local Sheriff, even if he was the kind of man who preferred inaction over seeing to the needs of the town.
Jackson turned to walk away, not trusting himself to say another word.
“Don’t listen to him, Jackson,” Simon murmured, patting Jackson on the shoulder as he passed by. “You were twice the Sheriff he’ll ever be, son.”
Jackson nodded at Simon, feeling the old man’s words touch him deeply, even if he didn’t believe it. He walked on, bearing the cold laughs of Grady and stopping only when he felt Hope’s eyes on him. One look at her face told him she had overheard everything.
Jackson flicked the reins after climbing up and turned the cart around, ignoring the whistles from the other ranchers as he rode off.
“Jackson,” Hope said once they were safely out of town.
His shoulders slumped slightly in response to the dread he felt at her impending question.
“They were talking about cut fences and broken water pipes…” Hope trailed off, her eyes finding his. “Has there been anything like that on our ranch?”
Jackson cleared his throat and forced a smile. “We’re a little way off from some of those other ranches. I haven’t found anything to be concerned about yet, Hope.”
Her hazel eyes squinted at him for a few seconds before she nodded and turned away. He doubted she really believed him, but considering he didn’t even believe it himself, he couldn’t blame her. A cold weight settled over his shoulders, one he wasn’t sure he had strength enough to hold.