Authors: Sky Winters
Inside it was a small picture of a young woman. She looked to be about Daisy’s own age. Daisy couldn’t tell what color her eyes were from the picture but she could tell that her hair had been dark, like Austen’s. She had a rounded face, large eyes and dimples that were prominent even though she was not smiling. Daisy realized that Austen must have been looking at the picture just before he went to bed. He stirred again and Daisy closed the drawer shut and went back to her own room.
The next morning, Daisy was awoken by a noise from just outside her room. She pulled her sheet around her shoulders and rushed outside. Austen had gotten ahold of an old walking stick, which he was using to support his body weight as he tried to go towards the kitchen.
Daisy rushed forward. “What in God’s name do you think you’re trying to do?”
“I’m going crazy in that bed,” Austen replied. “And the fields… they need to be worked on.”
“Forget the fields,” Daisy said impatiently as she supported his weight and lowered him down to the kitchen table. “We’ll never be able to work that land.”
His eyes flashed up to hers.
Daisy squared her shoulders and went on recklessly. “You have more land than you can handle and not enough means to cultivate it. I think you should consider Mr. Constance’s offer and think about selling the plot you have over the hill. That way, you can keep the land this house stands on and enough space and freedom for the horses and you will have enough money to maintain it and them.
“Is that what you think?” Austen asked in a low voice.
“It is,” Daisy nodded. “You have to be practical and keeping that land is not.”
“You have only been here a few weeks,” Austen reminded her.
“Yes, but I have observed enough in that time to know what is possible and what is not.”
“We’re not selling the land,” Austen’s voice was final, but Daisy pushed on.
“I understand it will be hard for you to give it up, especially because it has been in your family for so long but…”
“This discussion is over,” Austen said firmly.
Daisy stared at him and sighed. She was just beginning to realize how stubborn and willful he was. She recognized it immediately because she saw the same traits in herself.
“Why are you holding on so hard?” Daisy asked “recklessly. “Does it have something to do with the woman in the picture, the one by your bedside?”
He looked at her for a long time before he spoke. “You found the picture?”
“I did,” Daisy nodded, but she softened her tone. “She’s very beautiful.”
Austen closed his eyes for a moment as though he were trying to steady himself. “She was my wife.”
Daisy nodded having made that assumption already. “What happened to her?”
“She died,” Austen replied. “A long time ago. We were very young and newly married and starting out our life together on this ranch. It was the life that we both wanted. We had a ranch full of laborers, several more horses and a dog that adored Mary to death. The first five months of marriage was pure bliss… and then…”
“And then?” Daisy prompted gently.
“She got sick,” Austen said in a voice that was deadpan. “Very sick and within a month she was dead. I suppose after that I lost all hope. I let everything fall to ruin and I lost my workers and my most of my horses. I kept Bodie because he was my horse and Shelly because she was Mary’s. The dog died a few months after Mary, I think it died of a broken heart.”
“Is that what happened here?” Daisy asked looking through the window at the expanse of land that surrounded them.
“It wasn’t until I had woken from my depressed stupor that I realized I was about to lose my land. So I started working on it again and I have made great progress. It can be done, it will just take time,” Austen said with conviction. “Mary loved this land. It was where she was happiest. I’m not going to let it go without a fight.”
“Austen,” Daisy said as gently as she could. “Mary might have loved this land but I doubt she would have wanted you to keep it at the expense of your own health and happiness. She’s gone now, and you must go on, whatever that means.
Austen looked up at her, their eyes met. “I’m not selling.”
Daisy sighed and looked outside the open window. “Then I suppose you’re not selling.”
Chapter Nine
“You don’t have to do that,” Austen said as Daisy prepared to change his bandages again.
“The doctor gave me specific instructions.”
Austen was doing remarkably better. His wounds had healed fast and his bruises had turned yellow. His body was still sore and he had been told to take things slow but Daisy was terrified that he wouldn’t listen. He was not an easy man to advise.
“Daisy…” Austen’s voice was tentative.
“Yes?”
“I… just… you’re doing a good job around here,” he said formally as though he were her employer and she was the maid.
Daisy nodded in response but her eyes went cold. Austen must have noticed because he hastened to correct himself. “What I mean is… things have been… so much nicer… since you arrived.”
Daisy suppressed a smile. When she looked up she realized that Austen’s eyes were trained on hers. He was looking at her in the same manner that she looked at him, with curiosity.
“Your father was a gambler?” he asked.
Daisy couldn’t suppress her laugh. “Weeks and weeks together and you ask me this now?”
“I’m sorry,” Austen said sincerely. “I’ve been alone so long that I’ve forgotten how to behave properly around other people. Sometimes I forget that they have their own stories too, their own losses, their own pain.”
Daisy smiled in understanding of his plight. “My father wasn’t just a gambler, he was a convict too. He’s run a hundred different schemes to try and cheat people out of their money. But he got smarter and when he did his time he went back to his old ways. Except that he didn’t get caught.”
“And your mother?”
“I never knew her,” Daisy replied. “She left when I was a baby. I wonder what it says about her that she couldn’t stay with her own child but Blake did.”
“Was he so bad?” Austen asked.
Daisy shrugged. “He was bad sometimes. He worked me like a slave, belted me when I talked smart to him and humiliated me in front of the sleazy men that came into the saloon each night. So I had to develop a tough hide in order to live that life each day.”
“Until you decided not to live that life anymore?”
Daisy sighed. “I might not have had the courage had it not been for my father’s ‘deal’. He gambled away whatever money he had left and he was on the brink of losing the saloon. So he decided to sell me to the highest bidder.”
“Sell you?” Austen asked incredulously.
“He could get rid of me, save his saloon and make a profit all in one neat move,” Daisy explained. “That was when I went to Bonnie and told her to get me out of there.”
“I see,” Austen replied.
Daisy finished with his bandages and inspected it slowly. “You don’t have to pity me. There are people who have been through far worse. I didn’t take his cheek meekly and I fought back whenever I got the chance to.”
“It’s not pity you’re seeing in my eyes,” Austen said shaking his head. “It’s respect.”
Daisy had always been impulsive. She had always had a habit of saying and doing what she wanted as and when it came to her, which was why her father’s beltings had been frequent and the scars on her back were permanent. It happened again as she stood before Austen. His blue eyes were mesmerizing, his face was kind and his words were the most beautiful ones that Daisy had ever heard. Respect was not something she had ever expected to gain from anybody.
She leaned in and touched her lips to Austen’s. It was the softest of touches; feather light and gentle but it sent a rush of some spark coursing through Daisy. Just as suddenly as it had happened, it stopped. Austen pulled away first, his eyes contained confusion and some kind of pain that Daisy could not put a name to. He leaned his body away from her and lowered his eyes. Daisy felt heat rush to her face as she realized the mistake she had made. He had specified what he had wanted in his ad and affection was not part of it.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled as she backed out of the room.
“Daisy, wait,” Austen cried out after her, but Daisy didn’t hear him.
Chapter Ten
An awkward silence lingered through the house in the next few days. Austen tried to bring up what had happened once and when Daisy had made it clear that she didn’t want to talk about it, he never brought it up again. Still, that kiss sat there between them, a living thing that haunted every conversation and look they shared.
Daisy hated what a fool she had made of herself but she had no choice but to go about her work, avoiding Austen and hoping that time would soften the sharp edges of that memory. What made it so difficult was that Daisy did not regret the kiss at all. She had wanted to lean in and give herself over to it, but it was obvious that Austen felt differently otherwise he never would have pulled away.
They spent the next few weeks tip toeing around one another. When Austen was finally fit enough to go back to the fields, Daisy was relieved. So much work sat between them that there was no room for anything else. There were moments when the awkwardness vanished completely and Daisy and Austen could sit together in contented silence eating their supper and discussing the work they would have to undertake the next day.
Daisy hoped that with time, her feelings for Austen would become clearer to her so that she could begin to work through them, but a part of her questioned the intelligence of that plan. How could she work through anything when the man she was married to could only ever be her friend? It was an impossible situation and Daisy was struck by how cruel life could be. She had never particularly wanted to marry which was why accepting Austen’s ad was easy. Now she was free and platonically married and she couldn’t help but wish for the possibility of something more. The fourth month of their marriage dawned to a close and Daisy started thinking about what she really wanted for her future.
“What do you think about so much?” Austen asked her suddenly one day when they were out in the field.
Daisy turned from his gaze. “Nothing important,” she replied.
“We’re running low on supplies,” Austen said letting it go. “I’ll be back shortly.”
He left Shelly with Daisy and she watched as he rode off. He cut a striking figure in the distance and she turned her eyes away with that same little wave of disappointment she felt every time she was forced to accept that he would never be hers. Daisy was working on the crops when she heard a horse in the distance. Knowing it was Austen she didn’t turn around. Even when she heard feet meet the ground she stayed focus on her work.
“Well, well look at the hard little worker.”
Daisy spun around with a gasp lodged in her throat. Blake stood before her, staring at with a sadistic smile through narrowed eyes that were thick with malice. Her eyes fell to the rifle he clutched in hand. His tone changed immediately as he looked her up and down. “You cost me a lot of money girl,” he hissed.
Daisy stood frozen in place. She did not doubt that he would shoot if she attempted to run.
“Luckily,” Blake went on. “I convinced that old fool Berenson to give me some time to find you. He liked what he saw so he was willing to wait. But my deadline is coming to a close so it’s mighty lucky I finally found you. When we get back home that Bonnie bitch is gonna pay.”
“You leave her out of this,” Daisy spat back her anger rose to the surface.
“You’re right,” Blake licked his lips with a stained tongue. “This is between you and me.”
Daisy’s squared her shoulders in defiance. Blake recognized that immediately and his eyes became meaner and more determined. “You never did learn your place.”
“If you mean under your heel, then no, I did not,” Daisy replied.
“Well it’s about time you did,” he said as he dropped the gun and advanced on her.
Daisy knew Blake well. He was going to teach her a lesson first. He was going to beat her till she was sore and then he was going to drag her back to Colorado to be the slave of another man just like him. He expected her to run but Daisy stood her ground. Blake tried to grab her but she sent her hand flying into his face, leaving three red scratches across his cheek.
“Why you little –
Before he could finish Daisy took advantage of his fury and kicked at his legs. He managed to avoid the kick but his anger had burgeoned tenfold. He came at her viciously and threw her to the ground. Red dust flew upwards in a flurry, engulfing them both. When the dust had settled, Blake was nearly on top of her with his hands wrapped around her neck.
A sound of a gunshot made both Daisy and Blake freeze in place. Blake looked down trying to determine if he had been shot. Daisy knew she had no gun on her.