Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
Hope walked back to the front door, her arms clutched around her stomach to quell the dull pain that throbbed there.
She appreciated Clara’s company, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Jackson.
He and Ethan wouldn’t even be at Old Simon’s ranch yet, so there was no point waiting at the door, but she found she couldn’t leave.
She’d pace in between the front door and the couch Clara was seated on, half-listening to Clara’s stories.
Hope thought of Jackson riding across the valley, summoning supporters to his side.
She imagined their numbers growing as they rode into town to seek out Victor Langford.
But as her mind conjured the image of Langford in his black riding coat and hat, a little too smart and dandified for the west, her stomach twisted painfully.
“What is it?” Clara asked in response to the pain that must have registered on Hope’s face.
“What if Victor shoots Jackson as soon as he sees him?” she asked, imagining Jackson walking into the saloon and immediately taking a bullet to the chest.
“That’s not Victor’s style,” Clara reminded her. “He much prefers to get others to do his ugly business for him. That way he can never face any real charges.”
“Coward,” Hope muttered under her breath, turning back to the front door.
What if a gang of Victor’s men ambushed Jackson and severely beat him as a warning to anyone who challenged him? Or knocked him out and dragged him somewhere he’d never be found?
The light in the room had changed, and only when Margaret entered with a tray of tea did Hope realize how many hours had passed.
It was four o’clock already, and she hadn’t eaten all day.
She didn’t think she’d be able to keep anything down, though.
Gruesome thoughts continue to play in Hope’s mind without a pause.
She couldn’t bear to think of Jackson wounded, with Horse carrying his unconscious body home.
“Please, dear,” Margaret urged, startling Hope out of her thoughts and leading her to the settee.
“You must keep up your strength. What will we tell Jackson if he comes home and finds you've fainted from hunger?” Hope could see the worry in Margaret’s own eyes, though she was clearly doing her best to stay strong.
Hope gave Margaret a hug, feeling that a Ma’s worry must never end.
Hope managed to sip some sweet tea and nibble on a pie, but every sound made her jump up and hurry to the window. She could tell by Margaret and Clara’s silence that they, too, were feeling the growing strain of Jackson and Ethan’s absence.
Just after dark, the clatter of horses along the path wrenched Hope from her dazed state. She opened the door and ran out onto the porch, half-expecting to see Sheriff Grady appear over the rise.
“Jackson,” she breathed when she saw him atop Horse, relief swelling in her heart as she ran towards him.
Margaret was right. She did feel a little faint as Jackson swung off Horse and landed in front of her. He barely had time to take off his hat before she launched herself at him, her arms gripping him around his ribs as tight as he could manage.
“Easy, Hope,” he said, his lips brushing against her hair.
She pulled back from him, her eyes and hands scanning him in the growing darkness for any injury.
She dragged him into the light of the porch and conducted a more thorough search.
Ethan had already entered the house, and she could hear the chatter from inside, but she didn’t care.
All that mattered to her was Jackson being safe and whole.
His forehead wrinkled with a frown and his mouth formed a lopsided smile. “What’re you looking for?” he asked, confusion in his voice.
“You’re not hurt,” she replied, looking up at him.
“I’m just fine, Hope,” he assured her, taking her hands and squeezing them tight.
Hope felt exhaustion overtake her as she leaned against him. The hours of waiting had finally taken their toll, but she was terrified that if she closed her eyes, she’d wake up from a dream and Jackson wouldn’t really be there.
“I’m sorry I left you for so long,” he murmured, concern in his eyes as he looked down at her.
“I was so worried about you,” she said. “Did you see Victor?”
Jackson’s face dropped, and he shook his head. “Sheriff Grady stopped us before we could even get to Victor. I’ll tell you more about it inside,” he said, moving to walk away, but Hope held him even tighter.
“Just give me a moment,” she said, her cheek against his chest. “I thought I might have lost you, and there’s something I want to say.”
“I’m sorry I worried you, Hope, but we had to try,” he said, the frustration clear in his voice.
“I had my suspicions about Grady, but I didn’t think him such an obvious coward.
He didn’t even pretend to be a lawman…” Jackson grumbled, shaking his head.
“He just stood there smirking, using his men to protect Victor, Hope! I can’t bear the injustice of it. ”
She knew Jackson was likely disappointed that his efforts had failed, and she felt selfish for not caring about that.
At least he had safely returned to her. The words she so badly wanted to say to him fled the moment her confidence faltered.
Jackson looked exhausted, and she wasn’t sure that her words would be enough to bring him real comfort.
“But how did Victor or Grady know you were coming?” Hope asked, forcing herself to move on.
Jackson snorted, his scowl one of indignation. “Victor must have more spies than we realize.”
Hope nodded slowly, feeling the strain of the continued tension on her own spirits. She tried to force a smile for Jackson’s sake. “We mustn’t lose heart,” she said.
Jackson’s shoulders slumped slightly, but he returned her tired smile.
“You’re right, my sweet Hope.” He frowned slightly and asked, “What was it you wanted to say to me?”
Hope shrugged. “It can wait,” she said, wondering when she’d build up the courage again to tell him how she felt.