Hugh Fontaine

It had been a warm spring day, but it paled in comparison when Hugh climbed into the seat, feeling the warmth of Miss Parker’s leg running along the length of his. He gave the reins a shake and wondered how slowly his horses could to walk to stretch out the time he would have with Miss Parker.

The little voice in his head reminded him of his place. Enjoy the ride with her, Hugh. It’s the only one you’ll get. Once she finds out who you are and what you do, she’ll avoid your carriage and your company.

He looked at the porcelain-complected beauty with appreciation. She seemed completely out of place—especially beside him. With the rocking of the wagon, a few apricot tendrils again escaped the bun at the nape of her neck and swayed in time with the ostrich feather that decorated the tiny bonnet perched on her head. She was delicate, with pleasing curves and smooth hands—not the kind of woman to settle in a mining town. There were few men in a twenty-mile radius who should even receive an introduction to her, including him, but providence had interrupted his life, and he was reaping a fleeting, sweet reward.

Hugh wondered about the cowpoke’s mention of treasure on the road to Bachelor, and felt assured she was it. Much of his childhood had been spent immersed in God’s word—the nuns made sure of that. Even with all the transgression he’d piled on himself, he could still recognize someone with a pure heart.

Wanting to hear her voice, he prodded, “I’ll have that story now, if you’d oblige.”

The road narrowed to two tracks and dropped off ten feet to the river on Julianne’s side. Her hand gripped the crook of his arm, and her gaze was steadily fixed on the road and stream below them.

Hugh had traveled this road so many times that he rarely looked that way. He hadn’t considered that she might be frightened by it. That seemed to add a new dimension to the protective nature he felt for her. He transferred the reins to one hand and patted her fingers at his elbow. “We’re about out of the bad part. My horses are surefooted. You needn’t worry.”

Finally, the road widened, and Hugh felt her fingers slacken and release his arm. “Pardon me. That was unexpected.” Julianne’s cheeks pinked, and she gave a tenuous smile.

Hugh’s breath caught at the sight of it. He could barely nod. It took him a moment to recover. “Of course.” But he immediately missed her touch.

“It’s silly, really.” Julianne placed her hands in her lap and took a deep breath. “As you saw, my buggy fell to pieces. I heard a loud crack, something like a gunshot.”

“Green wood,” Hugh stated. “That wheel was made from green wood.”

“That seems unscrupulous.” A flicker of anger at hearing that news vibrated behind her tone. Again, her hand touched his arm.

“Yes, it is,” he replied. He wondered if it was a nervous habit of hers to reach out for people. He wouldn’t take it personally that she wanted to touch him, but he could be thankful for the habit.

Julianne composed herself with a sigh and pulled her hand from his sleeve, a blush again rising in her cheeks, then refolded her hands together before continuing the story. “When it splintered away, I was pitched from the seat. I was sitting on the side of the turned vehicle when I noticed an animal moving slowly in the trees, low to the ground. I was thrilled to see actual wildlife. I’ve seen animals in a zoo, but never in their natural habitat. He was powerful and majestic.

“I watched until I realized, much too late, that it was a mountain lion, and that I must be the intended prey. It bolted from the trees. I hadn’t any sort of weapon at hand—I’d forgotten about the knife in my boot—so I swung my parasol forward. In a panic, I thought to open it in front of me as a sort of shield, but there wasn’t time. I lifted it, said a quick ‘Lord, protect me’ in my heart, and the animal lunged.”

Hugh thought he saw lingering terror in the woman’s face, then she shuddered and continued.

“Since I’d squeezed my eyes shut, I didn’t see the outcome, but all at once, I felt a great blow to my chest. I couldn’t breathe more than a thin wheeze. When I finally believed I might get enough air to live, I saw that the beast had impaled itself on the end of my parasol so completely that it was twitching in the throes of death.”

Julianne glanced down at her skirt to the large bloodstains near the hem. Hugh wondered if the animal had died right there on her dress. She pulled the sides of her skirt around, hiding the blood from her view. She shivered. “It had been the wooden handle that thumped my chest with the force of the animal’s leap.”

Hugh, realizing that his mouth hung open, snapped it shut. He quickly inventoried her story. Traveled alone. Purchased a gig. Killed a mountain lion. She was fascinating. Or enchanting. Or spellbinding. Yeah, all of those.

“I thought if I climbed the tree, I’d be safe from other predators. And that is how you came to find me.” Her head and shoulders turned away from him as if she was looking at something particularly interesting. There was only the stone wall of the cliff rising above them, just like all the stone walls of this narrow canyon. One thing was for sure—she couldn’t lie or abridge the truth with a straight face. She would never be able to bluff.

Hugh didn’t want the conversation to end. “There’s a bit more,” he prodded. When her eyes returned to his, his head tipped a little to the side to encourage her to finish the tale. Yes, he could have finished the tale from where he came up the road, but he craved hearing her voice.

“My petticoats became tangled in the branches, and I couldn’t get down. I decided to jump and free myself. Two minutes later, you came upon me.”

He looked over his shoulder at the dead creature and gave a low whistle. This little gal’s survival was pure luck. She was quite possibly the luckiest person he’d ever met.

Hugh couldn’t think of a more pleasant drive he’d ever taken. He also wanted to continue to learn about this incredible woman. “You mentioned that the reverend is your employer. What will you be doing?”

Excitement burned in her blue eyes, the color of the columbines on the hillside. Hugh strangled the leather reins in his hands to keep from dropping them to touch her cheeks that flushed with pink as lovely as a sunrise. No, he wouldn’t reach out for her, but if he were the praying sort, he would send a prayer of thanks for every rut in the road that sent her swaying, her arm or leg brushing against his.

“While my intent in coming is to teach at a new school, I’m also hoping to be of service to the community. Attend church. Join the women’s auxiliary. Serve on boards for charities and so forth.” Her smile was as bright as a spring morning when she shared her plans.

The thing was, Hugh couldn’t see her dreams being fulfilled in this town any more than he could see her settling here. This wasn’t actually a new town—it had been settled, abandoned, and resettled according to the whims of the mining industry. It would likely bust again when the silver ran out. Should I tell her? It might be better for her to have a little time to adjust to the idea before she faces the truth.

“Miss Parker, the name of our town is Bachelor.” She just nodded at him, and he tried again, emphasizing one word. “Bachelor.” The mining district encompassed fifteen large claims operations, drilling wormholes through the Rocky Mountains surrounding Creede, employing thousands of men—mostly single.

“Yes, Bachelor, Colorado.” A moment later, her lips slacked and her eyes widened. “Oh. Unmarried men. There aren’t any women in town, are there?”

“A few.” And it wasn’t a place where women were safe. Hugh hoped that the missing women would be found, that it was a mix up of some type, but he had his doubts. One of the cattle ranchers from out west of here had gone into Creede expecting a bride on the train a week ago, and although people on the train remembered seeing her, she was never found. It was almost the exact story he’d heard told about a nurse who was to arrive a day before that.

“Children?” Her voice sounded thin, but she squared her shoulders and looked toward Hugh.

He was pulled out of his own thoughts back to their discussion and glanced her way. “Some of those, too.” The ones he’d seen worked in town or in the mines. Surely there must be a few more—enough for her to have a schoolhouse.

She seemed to take courage from that. “Then we’ll have a school. Is there still a church? And Reverend Bing?” He thought her voice shook with a little more doubt with each question, but her eyes were bright with hope.

Hugh had no idea, but replied, “I don’t know about the reverend, but there is a church in Bachelor. I’ll take you there.” He squirmed a little inside, remembering the last time he’d stood in the shadow of a church, wanting to arrange a burial plot for his mother. He was told that holy ground wasn’t for “the likes of them,” and he’d never been back. With a cough, he cleared his throat of the painful memory and turned his attention back to Julianne’s plight. “I don’t understand. I thought he was your employer.”

“Not exactly…yet…that I know of, or that he…that he knows of…either.” She fluffed her skirts and cleared her voice daintily.

It seemed to Hugh that Miss Parker’s quagmire became stickier and infinitely more interesting the more he learned of it. Only one more turn before Bachelor would come into view. Hugh regretted that their joint journey would soon come to an end. He had to admit, his horses had been very obliging. He chuckled inwardly to imagine that Julianne could have walked to Bachelor quicker than this ride had been.

He thought he heard her sigh, and turned to see both her confidence and posture slumping. He longed to wrap his arm around her shoulder and bear the burden with her, comforting her with tender words. Though she seemed the lucky sort, he was not, and knew to keep his distance. Seeing that she’d come this far on a wish and a prayer, Hugh wouldn’t bet against her succeeding.

Miss Parker straightened her shoulders. “Reverend Bing placed the ad in a Chicago paper recruiting residents.” Her voice brightened as she continued the explanation. “I was going to apply to him to sponsor a school when I arrived. We will have a school—of that I’m certain.”

Funny thing—Hugh was too.