Straight From The Heart Read online

  “I still don’t need any supplies, Mr. Cleary, but thanks for coming—”

  “That isn’t why I came, Dorry dear. The man I hired to search for John brought me news of him yesterday.”

  Dorry trembled. “John’s alive? Your man found him?”

  “Found him, yes. Alive, I’m afraid not.”

  Dorry knew Bill was watching her reaction closely. She tried to retain an unreadable expression. “How? Where? Are you certain it’s John?”

  “I hate to be the bearer of sad news, but I thought it best if it came from a good friend. It appears poor John was robbed and slain by bandits on the trail to Wyoming. Evidence was found of his . . . unfortunate demise. I believe these possessions are his. Am I correct?”

  Dorry accepted the bundle and sat on the porch to untie it, as if her shaky legs would not have supported her weight much longer. She found a belt buckle with John’s initials, one she recognized. There was a torn and faded letter addressed to her from John, which she would try to read later. There was a handkerchief from his mother with his initials on it, which she didn’t recall him taking along. “They’re John’s. Is this all your man found?”

  “Of course his horse, saddle, money, and other belongings were stolen by those wicked culprits. My detective had his remains buried.”

  “That was very kind of him and of you.” The evidence was undeniable: John Sims was dead. She was a free woman. Yet the proof appeared to be in better condition than it should if exposed to weather for twenty months. It was also convenient and suspicious, Dorry thought, that all three items had John’s name or initials on them. “I’ll send John’s family the bad news. I appreciate you going to so much trouble and expense to verify this for me.”

  “As you can see, you are a widow now. I think it would be wise if you accepted my proposal and we married as soon as possible.”

  Dorry’s head jerked up, and she gaped at him. “Marry? I can’t marry you, Mr. Cleary.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t love you.”

  “In time, I’m sure your feelings for me will change. It’s the perfect and only solution to both of our needs. You can’t manage this place by yourself. You have no money for support, and being alone is dangerous.”

  “I’m not alone; I have a hired man. I’m sure he can help me earn my living by farming as John’s uncle did.” Dorry witnessed the narrowing of Cleary’s gaze. He was standing stiff and straight, and his jawline was taut. His fake smile had vanished.

  “Perhaps I should give you two weeks to grieve and reconsider my purchase offer and proposal of marriage. One or the other will be in your best interest, my dear. Accidents do happen, Dorry. Look what happened to poor John when least expected. I would hate for you to be left alone if anything similar happened to your employee. A lady like you certainly should not continue to live with a common drifter; that isn’t wise or safe. I’m sure you’ll make the right decision during the next two weeks.”

  Dorry grasped the meaning behind his frigid words: Luke would die if she didn’t agree to his proposal. She thought it smart to pretend she didn’t understand. “I’ll think about all you’ve said, sir. Right now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone to mourn my lost husband. Good-bye.”

  Dorry stood and entered the house. She locked the door and leaned against it. She heard Cleary depart without further trouble, no doubt licking his thin lips in anticipated victory. She walked to the table, sat down, and placed the bundle on it. She was sorry John Sims was dead, murdered. In his own way, he had tried to be a good husband.

  It wasn’t right for William Cleary to get away with John’s murder or to take her land. Yet what could she do? She couldn’t summon the authorities and endanger Luke’s life, and she had no evidence to prove Cleary was a criminal. How could justice prevail for John, Luke, and herself?

  Dorry took the biscuits from the oven and set them on the table. “You can come eat, Luke,” she said as she poured their coffee.

  Luke came in and eyed the deer she had sprinkled with spices and roasted for hours; its aroma caused his mouth to water. Fragrant coffee gave off steam to say it was too hot to drink. Green beans and corn from canning jars did the same, and the cats head biscuits released wispy white warnings to grasp them with caution.

  “I’ll be glad to get my garden planted soon,” Dorry said. “I’m more than ready for fresh vegetables. I noticed some wildflowers coming up this morning.”

  “We haven’t finished our talk, Dorry. Don’t saddle another horse before this one’s been ridden.”

  “There’s nothing more to discuss. We’ve gone over this problem every day and night for two weeks since that snake hissed his warning. I’m going to offer him a compromise tomorrow; my deadline is up at sunset.”

  “He’ll never accept your terms.”

  “I’ll give him no choice. Either he buys me out but lets me continue to live here, or I’ll fight him to the death. This is my home.”

  “He’s dangerous and cunning, woman. Don’t stay here. Sell to him, Dorry, and move into Cross Corners to wait for me. I’ll return in a few years.”

  “The only way I’ll sell out is to leave with you. We could use the money to begin a new life in Canada. I’m free, Luke. John is dead for certain.”

  “But I’m not free, Dorry. I can’t put your life in danger. Wait for me.”

  “I will, but I’m waiting here.”

  “If Cleary refuses your terms, will you do as I ask? Please.”

  “Yes, I’ll yield that far, for you, for us.” For our baby. I can’t tell you about our child or you won’t leave and be safe from the Arizona law, those bounty hunters, and that wicked neighbor of mine. But I have to stay here where we belong: this land is ours. I’ll kill Cleary before he steals it.

  “You will?”

  Dorry fibbed, “Yes. By tomorrow night, we’ll have our answer.”

  As Luke watched her, Dorry headed her mare toward Cleary’s ranch. It wasn’t too far, and she was skilled with weapons, so she’d be safe. The only difficulty had been in persuading Luke to let her go alone.

  Dorry eyed the scenery during her journey. It was a wild and rugged land, but beautiful and challenging. Birds sang to announce the coming of spring soon. Squirrels and rabbits scampered about in search of food. Leaves were returning to bare hardwood limbs. Daring wildflowers were showing their stems and a few, their colorful faces. The world around her was being reborn; various colors mingled with splotches of green from pines that towered above the other trees. The sun beamed, and the sky was clear. There was still a slight chill in the air, but her jacket warded it off. She had come to love it here and could not bring herself to allow a criminal to take anything more from her. She rode forward, determined to prevail.

  “You heard me right, Luke. William Cleary is dead, killed by a grizzly two days ago. There is justice, if not by the law’s hand, then by God’s. He is no longer a threat to me; I’m free of his wicked greed. After he died, his men emptied his office and house of money, took the supplies, and left. Only the housekeeper is there, and she’s planning to leave shortly. She says there’s nothing to stop me from claiming the place myself if I want it. Cleary has no kin to challenge me. When you get back, we’ll have all the land we need to start our ranch. I’ll be waiting for your return, my love.”

  “I wish I could stay, Dorry, but it’s more important than ever for me to get going.”

  She noticed he put a “g” on “going” and smiled at his progress. Her lessons had worked; he would be better able to take care of himself now that he could read and write. “I’m so proud of you, Luke James; you’ve learned so much here. You can send me letters from Canada and use a fake name. I can write back and tell you all the news. Are you sure there isn’t something we can do to prove your innocence? We are having a run of good luck lately.”

  The desperado ruffled his black hair and smiled. “That’s just what I’m going to do. I won’t be in Canada. I’m going back to Arizona to cl
ear my name. Read this for yourself.” Luke fetched the ragged clipping he had carried for months. “Remember that article Henderson read to me, the one that said I’d be hanged if I was caught? I saved it all this while, but today was the first time I could actually read it for myself.”

  Dorry unfolded the paper and read it. She looked at Luke in confusion. “I don’t understand. What does this article have to do with your trouble? It doesn’t even mention you or the murder.”

  “I know. If only I’d showed it to you months ago, I would have realized that a lot sooner.” His brown gaze narrowed as anger flooded him anew. “Henderson lied. He tricked me.”

  “But what about that posse and those bounty hunters who chased you?” Dorry asked.

  “I’m betting they were men hired by him to get rid of me so he could take over my gold strike.”

  “Since this story isn’t about you as Henderson claimed, maybe you’re not wanted by the Arizona law. Or maybe you can prove he framed you.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping. Henderson and those fake lawmen are the ones who said there were two witnesses against me. Since I didn’t murder my partner, either there are no alleged witnesses, or they’re lying, maybe hired by Henderson. I’m going downriver to Bismarck and telegraph the Arizona authorities. That’s the only way we’ll ever know the truth. With Cleary gone, you’ll be safe here alone.”

  “Do it, Luke. It means so much to us. If it was just a trick, you don’t have to leave, ever.”

  “If it was just a trick, I can get back my claim. It’s a rich one, Dorry.”

  “If you aren’t being hunted by the law, do you want to return to Arizona?”

  “I don’t know; never thought I could. We can think on that later.”

  Dorry stood on the riverbank and watched the flatboat Luke had waved down until it was out of sight. For two days, they had talked and loved and done chores together. They had written a telegram her lover was going to send to check out his fate. They had written a second one to send if the reply revealed that Henderson had lied. She didn’t know how long it would require for a response to come, and Luke was going to wait for it. If by some horrible twist of fate he was convincingly framed, he’d have to leave for Canada immediately after seeing her, since the telegram would expose his general location and would coax lawmen or bounty hunters to head this way.

  While he was gone, Dorry decided, she would keep herself busy and distracted with spring tasks. She didn’t know what she would do or say if an innocent Luke wanted to return to Arizona instead of remaining in North Dakota. Yes, she did know, because there was a child growing inside of her to consider. That was news she would reveal upon his return.

  On April tenth at dusk, the raven-haired man rode into sight as Dorry finished evening chores. She hurried to the barn and awaited him there, her gaze glued to him. Her joyful heart sang, He’s home safe! She laughed as he bent over and lifted her onto the saddle with him, as if he could get to her faster that way than if he dismounted first.

  Luke hugged her and responded to the heady kiss she placed on his lips. All else was forgotten as he fed his starving senses. After many kisses and embraces, his adoring gaze examined her. “You look good enough to eat for supper. Lordy, I’ve missed you. Been any trouble while I was gone?”

  She stared into his chocolate-colored eyes and read the truth of his words. “None, if loneliness and worry don’t count as problems.”

  Luke shared laughter and exchanged smiles with her. “I love you, Dorry Sims. I don’t know what woulda become of me if I hadna met you.”

  “The same is true for me, Luke James. I love you and missed you. Tell me the news before I burst with curiosity. What happened?”

  “Henderson’s greed and evil have done him in. He did near the same thing to another man, after he thought he was rid of me; he used those men with stolen badges to try to scare him off. His bite was too big that time, ‘cause the man’s brother is a real lawman who didn’t take to having his brother accused of murder or being framed. Henderson was tricked, caught, and hanged. Law never even knew about my partner being murdered and them saying I done it. Fact is, Dorry Sims, there aren’t any charges against me, and that claim’s still mine. I can return and work her or I can sell her.”

  “It’s over? You’re free? You don’t have to run or hide anymore?” She watched her lover nod his head after each question.

  “From where I’m sitting, we’re both free,” Luke said with a wink.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Means you can marry me if you’re willing. I’m doing the asking.”

  “Where would you want to live, here or in Arizona?”

  Luke played with a red curl. “Does that change your answer?”

  “No, my answer is yes. I love you and want to marry you, and I’ll live wherever you choose.”

  “I think this is the best place of the two. We’ll be wanting young’uns, and a mining camp ain’t no place to raise them. You changed my whole life, Dorry. You’re like some magic wind that blew away my troubles. Now that you’ve taught me to read ’n write, nobody can trick me again. Looks like our future’s as bright and pretty as that smile of yours.”

  She hugged him and warmed from head to foot. For now, she wanted the attention to remain on just the two of them. Later tonight or tomorrow, she would share news about their baby, news he was ready to hear. “Why don’t we go inside and have a better reunion before supper?”

  “Suits me more than fine, woman.”

  After his horse was tended and they were walking to the house, Luke murmured in awe, “Never thought I was running to a wife, kids, and home of my own instead of away from trouble and death. Fate gave me a nice but scary shove. I’m a mighty lucky man, Dorry, mighty lucky.”

  “So am I, just as my ancestors were.”

  “Maybe I should read that book of yours and learn all your secrets.”

  “You will, my husband to be. But for now, reading can wait.”

  Luke James agreed, and soon they were making passionate love . . .

  Love at First Sight

  Janelle Taylor

  The author’s true story of her own romance.

  Romance. Is it that mysterious and magical feeling that sends one’s imagination spinning and one’s heart to fluttering? Romance. Is it that special and stirring emotion that one seeks in life, books, movies, and fantasies? Romance. Is it an intoxicating emotion that can be stirred to life by a seductive glance, a gentle caress, a soft smile, a tender kiss, or a special action? Romance. Is it a collective word for the emotion that ranges from a simple “crush” to passionate “love”? Romance. Does it slowly bloom as a fragile and exquisite flower or strike as swiftly and potently as a bolt of lightning? Love, at first glance . . .

  My first romance was memorable and enlightening. Of all the males who shared my romances, I have never forgotten the first time I discovered the opposite sex. Until that point, I was a combination of shy loner and avid tomboy. I much preferred boyish adventures to girlish gab and trappings. I was in the seventh grade, a soon-to-be high school student. Each year, Athens High School selected seniors to visit seventh graders to “educate” them on their imminent first year of high school. My class was the luckiest of all; we had none other than the leading quarterback Francis Tarkington, who later became famous at Georgia and with the Minnesota Vikings. Who better than a handsome, dashing “hero” to spark my girlish imagination and to birth my romantic feelings! Even at that tender age, Fran embodied and presented masculine appeal. I can vividly recall his enticing looks, confident stance, and mesmerizing voice; but to this day, I can’t recall a single word he said, if I actually heard any. Although the “Scrambler” never noticed me that day, I have always remembered him and that first introduction to “romance.” That crush and that year did reveal something to me. I did recognize the importance of having a boyfriend; but at that age it was something we changed as often as fads.

  The country girl found herself in the
busy and intimidating aura of high school, where being quiet and shy was frequently mistaken for haughtiness and conceit. In those days of strict and old-fashioned fathers, I was given a long look at the “battle of the sexes” while awaiting that magical age of permission to explore it firsthand. I had observed “the dating game,” where each girl wanted to be on the arm and in the car of the boy with the best looks, most money, and greatest popularity. I slowly learned that many of these “dream dates” were not worth the time and effort! Even after discovering romance and boys, I still enjoyed male friends and activities. There was nothing like being “one of the boys” to prevent a romance! Yet, I wasn’t ready or willing to select or to lose either facet of my life and personality. I quickly learned that dating was a fiercely competitive sport that often ruined many female friendships, inspiring me to have more male than female friends. But those were such busy days of learning and exploring, days so full and demanding they passed quickly and hazily. Today, it strikes me as amusing that in many of those “unforgettable” romances I cannot even recall a face or name . . .

  After graduating from high school, I went into training as an orthodontic nurse, and my dating opportunities suffered. Working for an orthodontist, I found nearly all of our patients were under fifteen! Living in a college town, working and dating were alien to each other. All teenage girls were warned of the pitfalls of dating “college men”; what college man wasn’t “out for just a good time”! Suddenly it seemed that old beaux were married or engaged; many had left Athens for school, new jobs, or the Army. I was existing in a world with few “decent” ways to meet males. It was the early sixties, a time of conflict: the Vietnam War, Kennedy’s assassination, and the sexual revolution. But Women’s Lib had not as yet opened doors for females to “take the first step” or to go “where the boys are.” For me it was a period of blind dates arranged by well-meaning friends, or risking an evening with a new acquaintance, or sitting home. Before long, I began to feel that sitting home was often preferable to the other options.