Always, Stone Read online

  Always, Stone

  BOOK FOUR - THREE RIVERS EXPRESS SERIES

  Nan O’Berry

  Contents

  Winter 1860

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  December 1860

  Meet Nan O’Berry

  Books by Nan O’Berry

  Tessa Berkley

  Reina Torres

  Always, Stone

  ©2017 Nancy O’Berry

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any other means without written permission from the author.

  Do note, this book is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, real places, or real events described or coincidental and if not are used fictitiously.

  All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are property of their respective owners and are used here for identification purposes only.

  To my dear readers, I hope you’ll enjoy this tale of yesteryear.

  To my family, thank you for helping out during the holidays so this book could be written.

  To my dearest friends, Renia Torres and Aliyah Burke who were my conscience and kept me focused on my story, I would not be where I am today without your guidance, your kick in the pants, and your help brainstorming when the well went dry.

  So, without further ado, “Rider Up!”

  Winter 1860

  Dear Timothy,

  I bet you did not expect to receive a letter from beyond the grave. Far from what father has led everyone to believe, I am well and doing fine. My job these days is riding for the Pony Express. Last week, to my surprise, I received letter from Dr. Watford telling me of mother’s failing mental state. I was shocked. Then, today, I get another from your wife informing me of the great fire. I am sure it was a shock to lose our ancestral home as well as her sweet soul.

  Do not blame, Eliza for writing to me. She did so as your wife not, as a girl from my past. You should have no quarrel with her. Her letter was formal mentioning Mother’s death. She tells me that father has taken residence with you. Perhaps, that is a good thing. At Fox Hill, he will be able to conduct the business of the old plantation, as well as oversee the training of his beloved Thoroughbreds.

  Since I doubt our paths shall ever cross, please give my best to your family in quiet. There is no need for father to know. I feel that this is best left between us. I have met a girl. I’m not sure what this journey will be or if I can convince her to be at my side. I am riding most days, however, should you need funds, please contact Levi Hawkins, Three Rivers Station, Wyoming, he will know how to get in touch with me. Good Luck, brother, may God Bless you.

  Always,

  Stone

  P. S.

  I think it is best not to tell father where the money has come from. As you know, we did not part on the best of terms and I’d rather the funds be used to help in your time of need and not thrown into the fire.

  Chapter 1

  “Boys.” Levi Hawkins raised his hand and signaled to the two riders at the edge of the barn.

  Stone felt an elbow push into his side and cast a speculative glance in the direction of Brett Maxwell. “Looks like the boss wants us.”

  Stone turned to see Levi raise his hand. “I need you.”

  “Wonder what’s going on?” Brett asked as they hung their rakes on the inside wall of the barn.

  “Not sure,” Stone remarked. “But we shall never know if we just stand here.”

  Brett grinned. “Nope. Guess we won’t.”

  Together, the two boys jogged over to where Levi stood.

  The owner of Three River’s Station acknowledged them with a nod of his head. “Boys.”

  “Mr. Hawkins,” Brett answered.

  Levi took a deep breath and held out a special delivery envelope. “This has to get to Fort Valor and into the hands of the Major.”

  Stone reached out and took the envelope. Turning it over in his hands, he caught the return address as Washington D. C. “Odd to get a formal communication through the station.” His brow furrowed. “Seems to me, they would travel straight to the fort.”

  Instead of meeting his gaze, Levi chose to look away. “Some things require a bit more tack.”

  “Tack?” Brett questioned.

  Levi didn’t answer.

  Stone looked up with a bit of smirk on his lips. “Something you would know little about.”

  Brett’s mouth twisted. “Ha. Ha.”

  Levi chuckled. “I can’t divulge what is in the letter.”

  “So you know,” Bret said.

  Levi lifted his shoulders in a non committal manner.

  Neither Stone nor his companion said anything in retort.

  “I need two messengers.”

  Stone noted the fold of several papers inside the message. He dampened his lips and stared at his employer. “Two?”

  Worry etched deep lines around Levi’s eyes. “If one of you doesn’t make it through, I need the second rider to get it there.”

  Brett leveled Stone a sobering glance.

  “Will the Major tell us?” Levi shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure. But I suspect all our answers will be revealed once it has been opened. I can tell you there is trouble along the frontier.”

  “I have heard some rumblings at the other pony express stops,” Stone noted.

  Levi’s gaze focused on Stone. “So you two are willing to take this on?”

  “Yes,” Stone answered and turned to his friend, who gave a nod of support.

  “You must give it to the Major and no one else. Is that understood?” The last few words, Levi uttered emphasized their importance by speaking them one by one.

  Stone slowly nodded. “When do I leave?”

  “You and Brett will be leaving now. Do the most not to draw attention to yourself.” He handed over a small leather pouch to Brett. “There are funds in here for a night’s stay at the hotel just outside of the fort as well as a good hot meal. When you arrive at the fort, telegraph me so I will know you made it successfully.”

  “Awful lot of cloak and dagger,” Stone murmured.

  “Get saddled,” Levi told them.

  Both nodded.

  Opening his vest, Stone slid the letter inside away from prying eyes. “On it,” he replied.

  Twenty minutes later, with the stables best horses, the two boys mounted and turned toward the north.

  They were about to ride off when a female voice stopped them. “Stone?”

  Turning in his saddle, Stone watched Olivia Hawkins hurry down the steps.

  Two brown paper packages tied with twine were in her hands. “Boys, it’s not much, but I didn’t have time to do a lot. These two sandwiches will get you through tonight.”

  “It’s only a day’s ride, Mrs. Hawkins. Are you expecting us to see something?”

  Her face grew flushed.

  “Hush, Stone,” Brett teased him before turning his attention to the woman standing beside them. “I, for one, am grateful. I have tasted your cooking.”

  She chuckled. “Well, then, there you go.”

  Both men slid the sandwiches into the saddlebags.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Stone tipped his hat at her.

  “Ride safe, boys.” She took a step back and dabbed her eyes with the edge of her apron.

  They turned their horses toward the other end of town.

  As they passed the Crystal Dawn, Stone caught sigh
t of a figure coming around the side. As she stepped onto the boardwalk, he could see her dark hair still damp and loose flowing down her back.

  She wore plain gingham instead of the silk and satin that graced her figure in the evening. She held herself with grace and dignity of someone in a higher station.

  With deliberate care, he swung his gaze to her.

  Her green eyes met his gaze.

  “Just a minute.” He pulled his horse to a halt and swung the animal around, bringing him as close as the hitching rail to the Crystal Dawn. “Morning, Ma’am.”

  Her dark lashes brushed her cheeks.

  It wasn’t much but such a demure gesture struck Stone hard and awaken his interest more than before.

  “Morning, Mr. Stone.”

  As the light hit her features, he noticed that her skin was scrubbed clean of all that pot rouge. He lifted the edge of his lips at the thought of how far more beautiful her peach and cream complexion appeared without the mask of war paint. “How are things going for you?” he inquired.

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, and then gazed up at him with a soft smile. “Not bad. And you?”

  He glanced toward his friend. “Same.” He returned his gaze in her direction. “I want to thank you for your help with Wyeth.”

  Her smiled broadened. “I was happy to do it. Pierson was giving him a raw deal.”

  “Yes, he was.” He looked both ways along the street to make sure no one was listening. “Look, I’ve got to be out of town for a few days for Mr. Hawkins. Maybe, when I get back, you and me can get together, you know,” he paused. “Go for a ride.”

  A mask of indifference spilled across her face.

  Stone realized quickly his words had a bitter connotation. “To talk,” he added. “Just to talk.” For a moment, he waited as she thought over his suggestion. To his relief, her shoulder’s relaxed.

  “I would like that, Stone. I’d like that an awful lot.”

  His grin widened till it felt as if it might split his face. “See you, then.”

  “See you then,” she murmured.

  With a tug of his hat, Stone wheeled his mount around and tapped his sides with his heels. The horse sprang forward and in two leaps, he caught up with Brett.

  “You ready now?” Brett asked grinning broadly.

  “More than ready.”

  Brett’s mouth twitched. “Careful, Stone, it’s a slippery slope toward matrimony around here.”

  Stone’s head turned toward Charity. “It will take more than a pretty face to make me fall. But boy howdy, that’s one special face.”

  Brett howled. “So speaks the next on fate’s list.”

  Charity heard the laughter coming from the second man as the two express riders rode away. Yet, she could not contain the skip of her heart upon the anticipation of Stone’s return. Ever since the trouble with Wyeth, he seemed to find his way to her side with increasing regularity. Yesterday, he bumped into her at the general store and offered to carry her bundle back to the saloon.

  How different it felt to have a man beside her, not asking for favors. He’d paused and offered her his arm as they made their way across the street. Once at the saloon, he handed the bundle back and tipped his hat as he said goodbye.

  A smile lifted her lips. “Not that I mind, one little bit,” she murmured to no one.

  Taking a deep breath, Charity lifted her arm and pulled the comb through her still damp hair. “I would not mind at all having a bit of attention from that express rider.”

  Humming softly, she turned her face toward the sun and enjoyed the warmth against her skin as she continued to comb her long dark locks. Yes, she could imagine herself being held in his arms as they danced in the square at the town’s holiday fling or took a quiet stroll beneath the light of the full moon. “Perhaps, if I let myself dream just a little bit….”

  A click of the front door, alerted her to another’s presence.

  “Well, Charity, what brings you out to the light of day?”

  The voice of her boss, Laiden McMasters caused her to still. “I went to the bath house.” She turned to give him a challenging glare. “Towel’s in the chair if you do not believe me.”

  “Hmm.” McMasters moved toward the chair and reached for the worn toweling to check the dampness. Satisfied, he picked it up and tossed it to the next chair before easing his body down to sit. “Have a nice conversation?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Pardon?”

  He pointed up the street. “I could have sworn I saw two riders from the express station move past.”

  Charity gave a quick glance in the departing direction of Stone and his friend. Then, she turned and met his gaze. There was no sense in lying. “Perhaps.”

  The intensity of his gaze remained unchanged. “It will never work, you know. People know where you work and what you do. Do you think for one minute, they will befriend you and invite you to dinner in their homes?”

  Her chin tilted upwards in a show of defiance. “There is Delia and Mrs. Hawkins.”

  His eyes narrowed as his mouth twist into a sneer. “Oh, they will let you in – once. Maybe, if you are lucky, twice. But it will happen as it always does. A husband will smile or give a wink and she will catch it. All those invites will fade like the change of the wind.”

  Charity listened. The sad realization that his words were true changed her hopefulness to anger. “You do not know that,” she challenged.

  Laiden raised a brow.

  She’d tried so hard to do the right thing. Surely, that had to mean something.

  His hard stare continued.

  She shifted on her feet not wanting him to know he succeeded in planting a seed of doubt.

  He pulled his jacket open and withdrew a cheroot he was fond of from an inside pocket. “Don’t I?” He bit the end of the cigarette off and spit it into the street.

  Charity swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth.

  Placing it between his lips, his teeth clamped down upon it as he drew out a match and drew it against the chair bottom. It burst into flame and he held it against the other end of the roll of tobacco. Drawing air through the cheroot, he leaned the chair back on two legs and let the smoke drift through his nostrils. “Don’t let yourself get caught up dreaming things that will never happen, Charity. It ruins a woman’s perspective.”

  Anger snapped in her eyes. “You know that is a nasty habit,” she hissed as she bent to pick up the towel. She didn’t want to stay on the porch any longer as the warmth of the sun had lost its allure. As she went to stalk past, his hand darted out.

  His long finger’s latched around her wrist bringing her to an abrupt halt. “You listen to me, Charity. I have been good to you, but I will not let you make a mistake. Pierson’s on your case. I do not know why.”

  At the mention of the stage owner’s name, she felt her body shudder. Yes, she knew why, that horrible business in San Francisco.

  “He is a force to be reckoned with.” Laiden paused.

  She felt the scrutiny of his glance and quickly banished the images in her mind. Here lately, her boss had grown too easy at picking up her thoughts. She could ill afford to let him see into her soul now. Charity felt the grip of his fingers lessen.

  “I have come across men like Pierson before. You would be a fool not to fear him. Despite what you think of me, I will do what I can to protect you. I gave you that promise when you came to me. I plan on proving to you that I will live up to it.”

  There was a pause as she weighed his offer of protection. Then, she took her arm away and put a step or two of distance between them. Her hand rubbed the skin he’d touched.

  Laiden pretended not to notice. “Go inside, Charity, get yourself ready for tonight. We will have a long evening.”

  She tamped down the fear and met his gaze.

  His eyes narrowed.

  She held her breath and wondered if he could hear the frantic beat of her heart. With a defiant glare, she stalked inside.

  The do
or closed while her knees still wanted to knock against one another as she walked past the girls coming down to get a bite to eat.

  “Charity,” Rose hollered out. “You ate?”

  Shifting her gaze to the oldest woman in the group, Charity nodded. She moved through the room as the girls shifted along the bar filling their plates with the one meal provided by the house. Slowly, her footsteps led up the staircase to the second floor. Following the hallway to the left, she moved toward the one window at the end and paused at the door on the left. She drew the ribbon around her neck out into the open and inserted the key into the lock. A flick of her wrist and the lock tumbled with a click. She pushed it open and slipped inside.

  Closing the door, she leaned against the wood.The pain in her chest increased.

  “Why is it always the same?” she whispered and her breath hitched. “I just want to find a place to call home.” Tears filled her eyes as she glanced heavenward. “Is that really too much to ask? I did not choose this life. It was chosen for me. It is not fair. Why? Why, do I let myself believe?” Her voice cracked. The tears began their slow cascade down her cheeks and spilled onto the calico. A sob followed.

  Charity pulled her hand to her lips to stifle the cry as misery over took her. She flung herself across the small bed and pulled the pillow to her face to smother the cries that continued to rack her body.

  Down near the edge of town, Zeke Hopkins moved from the freight office to the edge of the porch. The toothpick, which seemed to be a permanent fixture between his lips, shifted to the other side of his mouth. “Well, what do you make of that?”

  From deep within the shadows, a second figure emerged. The lasting frown etchedon his face deepened as Reuben Pierson watched the two riders from the Three Rivers Station move toward the outskirts of town.“Well, well, well,” he murmured. His hands moved to his waist, while his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his vest. “I wonder where our friends are going.”