Chapter 21: The Beginning of the End

~O, beware…of jealousy; it is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on.~—William Shakespeare

Jake had gone back to the reverend’s house, secretly glad that now he had a legitimate reason to see Dannie again. Mrs. Simmens greeted him warmly at the door.

“I’m on my way out, Jake, but Annie is with Dannie in the parlor. You can go to them.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Simmens.” Jake could feel the heat rising to his face; he didn’t quite know why.

The parlor door was closed, and Jake paused before entering.

“It’s a different life here than in England,” he heard Annie’s voice say. “But I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t really have much of a choice,” Dannie replied. “When I set sail for America, I never, ever thought I would end up out here. Who would have thought that Paul...” Her voice faded. Jake felt every muscle in his body tense.

“Who is Paul?” Annie asked.

There was a few seconds’ pause. “He was the beginning of the end. I don’t know how else to put it.”

Turning around, Jake walked away. Why was that man’s name always coming up? It wasn’t Paul who had brought her safe and sound to Hopewing. It wasn’t Paul who had shot the rattlesnake that had nearly killed her. And it certainly wasn’t Paul who had comforted her and reassured her that everything would work out fine.

Come to think of it, it was thanks to Paul that the poor girl had to drag herself all the way out here in the first place. He was the bad guy. Why was she still so hung up on him?

Jake had just sat back down in the wagon when Mr. and Mrs. Martin walked up.

“Are you coming in or heading out?” Mr. Martin asked in his polite, refined voice.

Jake did some quick thinking. What was the point of continuing any sort of communication with Dannie? She was still in love with Paul, and he had a cattle rustle chasing after him. It was all just a recipe for disaster. Best to end it now, before anyone got hurt.

“I’ve got to head out, Mr. Martin. Clay is probably wondering where in God’s…where on earth I’ve disappeared to. Could you pass this on to Miss Preston?” Reaching into his pocket, Jake pulled out the bills.

“Certainly,” Mrs. Martin said with a smile. “You’ve just given my husband a very good reason to see the new school teacher.”

Mr. Martin laughed. “After the show you and that outlaw put on for us at the sheriff’s office, both Grant and I are eager to find out what sort of woman she is.”

Jake gave a nod and flicked the reins. “I’m still figuring that out,” he mumbled to himself. “Still figuring that out.”

***

A knock on the door brought Dannie and Annie out of their conversation.

“I’ll just see who it is,” Annie said.

Dannie smiled and watched her leave. Then she leaned back in her chair and let out a little sigh. It was good to be clean and fresh again. Never had Dannie enjoyed a bath as much as the one she had just had. Even though the washroom was a little crude, and the tub was small and wooden, it had been worth more to her than a room full of gold.

Four days in the dust and heat with no way to properly clean herself had been more than she could bear. Of course, Dannie had put up with it to save face in front of Jake, but now she was just glad that she was back to some form of civilization.

The parlor she sat in was small, but it was cozy. There were handmade curtains over the windows, and a delicately crocheted tablecloth on the table, and the pillows were neatly embroidered.

You had to admire the women who come out here. It wasn’t an easy life, not easy at all.

Annie now entered again, leading behind her a man and a woman. They seemed to be about the same age as Dannie’s parents had been. He was tall and well-dressed, with the air of a gentleman of fine breeding. His dark hair was combed back, and he had a neat mustache.

The lady was quite a bit shorter than him and a bit stout. Her blue eyes were kind, however, and full of merriment. Her thick, blonde hair was gathered up in a tidy bun.

“Dannie,” Annie said, “this is Mr. and Mrs. Martin. Mr. Martin is the owner of the Circle 4 Ranch. It’s one of the biggest ranches in the area. Mr. Martin, this is our new school teacher, Miss Danielle Preston.”

Mr. Martin gave Dannie a charming smile and held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Preston.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Martin, Mrs. Martin,” Dannie replied as she rose and shook both their hands. Her accent caused a certain amount of surprise to register in Mr. Martin’s eyes.

“Miss Preston, you are from England?”

“I am.”

“From the North? From Leeds?”

Now it was Dannie’s turn to be shocked. “Mr. Martin, everyone else here has assumed that I am from London. How is it that you say Leeds?”

“Your accent tells me so,” he replied. “But are you not?”

“In a way, yes I am. My parents were both from Leeds, and I was born there. Then my father was made the vicar of Collingham, and we moved there.”

“Ah, but it is all in the same area, so I was not too far from the truth.”

“Now, before we forget,” Mrs. Martin spoke up in a thick Southern accent. “Chris, hand the girl the money. We must get that over with at once.”

“Ah, yes.” Mr. Martin held out the bills to Dannie. “Jake asked us to pass this on to you.”

Dannie stared at the money in surprise.

“The outlaw that you caught, Wild Tom? There was a reward out for him. Since you helped in his capture, this is your share.”

“Oh.” Dannie haltingly reached out and took the money. “Why didn’t Jake bring it in himself?”

“He was in a hurry to get back to the Cora Belle, and it’s not exactly close to the town.”

“Oh, I see.” Dannie tried to hide her disappointment.

~Why did he just run off without even saying goodbye?~

But then, why should she care? She’d only met Jake a few days ago, and they had argued for half the journey. It was true that during the second half they had gotten to know a lot more about each other, but still, she could hardly claim to be an intimate friend of his.

He could have at least said goodbye, though.

“Don’t get too upset,” Annie soothed. “Jake ain’t known to be very nice when it comes to women. Folks actually say that he hates women. I mean, the very fact that he agreed to bring you here is nothing short of a miracle. He’s hardly ever in town. No one knows much about him. He just hides on that ranch of his, only coming out when it’s really necessary.”

Dannie looked up and forced a smile. She was new to this place, and there was so much to get used to. Now really wasn’t the time to get bothered by Jake’s random attitude and lack of manners.

“So, Miss Preston, how is it that you, a young lady from England, ended up here?” Mr. Martin asked.

But Dannie wasn’t paying attention to the question.

From the very start, she had noticed that Mr. Martin also spoke with just the hint of a British accent. The more he spoke, the more she felt sure of it.

“Mr. Martin, may I dare to ask if you are also from England? There does seem to be the slightest hint to your accent that makes me think so.”

He smiled at her words. “I am, indeed, Miss Preston—and I am also from the North. I was born and raised in Leeds.”

This caught Dannie by surprise. He was also from Leeds? She gazed at him with interest. By now, he was asking Annie something about her father and the school, giving Dannie the opportunity to really examine him.

The longer she looked, the more she felt that there was something—~something~—familiar about him. She knew for a fact that this was her first time meeting him. Even so, she felt as though she had seen him somewhere before.

Only where?

Then it came to her. But could it be? Was it really him? There was only one way to know for certain.

Dannie rose abruptly from her chair. “If you will excuse me, I will be but a moment,” she said, and hurried out.

Going to the room she was now to share with Annie Simmens, Dannie opened her trunk and searched and searched until at last she found the volume of Shakespeare that she was looking for. From among the pages, she pulled out an old photograph. A careful study had her letting out a small gasp.

“The man here has no mustache, but I’m still quite certain. I hope I won’t seem too rude in asking. It will be so embarrassing if I am wrong.”

Her curiosity was greater than her fear, however, and gripping the photograph tightly, Dannie returned to the parlor.

“Mr. Martin, please forgive me for being presumptuous, but is it possible that this is you?” She held out the photograph to him.

Mr. Martin’s eyes widened, and he grabbed the photograph from her hands. The color drained from his tanned face. “How… Where…where did you get this?” he sputtered out, his hands shaking slightly.

Now, Dannie was certain it was Mr. Martin in that picture. “The other man in the photograph is my father,” she said in a quiet, stunned voice.

The hands gripped the paper so tightly the photograph was in danger of being damaged. Mr. Martin’s gaze darted from the photo to Dannie and back to the photo.

“Impossible, it’s impossible,” he breathed out. “Miss Preston…you…you…you are Robert’s daughter?”