it back sooner. And then there were the trunks he’d lugged to the wagon; that had taken a fair amount of time.
When he heard a small sniffle next to him, he turned to see Hope’s mouth drawn into a line. Her brow crimped. She held her reticule so tight to her chest that whatever she had stashed inside would be crushed.
“I’m sorry.” He set a hand on her shoulder to comfort her, feeling anything but natural in doing so.
Ever since she’d given her name, Hope, he’d been silently writhing in sheer panic. He’d tried to be congenial, and he’d worked at being caring when he’d told her about Paul a mile back, but all he could think about was the promise he’d made and what it meant—and how he was loyalty-bound to fulfill his words.
He’d promised to hold on to hope and not let her go.
But he didn’t know that hope was Hope.
He could pay her passage back to where she came from, though he couldn’t exactly make good on his promise to watch out for her from a distance, could he? But the idea of being anywhere near Hope threatened like a gun aimed directly at his vows to Ellie.
It might be easier if Hope was some dowdy spinster lucky to snag a strapping man like Paul. But Hope was nowhere near dowdy. She was beautiful…striking…elegant.
She was also a city slicker.
And that particular attribute was nothing like Ellie.
“It’s just all so sudden.” Her eyes grew moist, sending a trickle of compassion through him.
He braced himself for her to let loose a flood of tears, but instead she drew in a steadying breath, lifted her chin a little higher and ascended the steps.
Ben cleared his throat and motioned them inside. “You must be Hope,” he uttered as they preceded him into the house.
“Yes, I am.” Her voice shook slightly.
When Aaron spotted a few drops of blood that had splattered on the floor when they’d carried Paul inside, he pulled out his kerchief and hunkered down to rub them away. He wasn’t sure how Hope would respond and was intent on getting rid of the remnants before she screeched in fright.
“I’m Ben. Aaron’s oldest brother.” He closed the door behind them. “Paul just told us about you, Hope. He said you’d be coming.”
Paul had told Ben and Zach about her? Aaron angled a glance down the hallway to Paul’s room. He could hear the sheriff’s voice and Zach’s voice, too, and had to wonder what exactly Paul had said after Aaron had left for the station.
She moved into the room and set her bag and parasol at the door. She looked around her as if to get her bearings.
“Where is he now?” she asked, unpinning the matching velvet half of a hat she’d worn and sweeping it off her dark brown hair. Small tendrils wisped down to frame her face. “May I see him?”
Ben sliced a concern-filled look to Aaron.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Aaron finally responded. He and his brothers had done their best to clean Paul up, but all of the care in the world couldn’t reconstruct broken bones and reduce overt swelling. “He was in bad shape. I wouldn’t want your only view of him to be this way.”
She peered up at him with a stubborn tilt to her chin. “I’m sure I’ll be just fine. Besides, if this is the only way I’ll see him face-to-face, then that is what I shall do. It’s better than not having seen Paul at all.”
He caught the shadow of approval that crossed Ben’s face and couldn’t help but silently applaud her surprising show of strength.
“This way, then.” Ben led the way back to the room and motioned Zach and the sheriff out.
Aaron could hear Ben speaking to Hope in the doctorly tone of voice he reserved for grim moments like this. He braced himself for a loud wail or sob from the young woman but heard nothing—not even a sniffle.
And that was almost worse.
Once Ben exited the bedroom and closed the door behind him, Aaron let out a heavy sigh.
“What do we do now?” he whispered as Ben moved over to where Aaron stood with the sheriff and Zach. “I mean, Paul had planned on marrying her as soon as she arrived. We don’t know a thing about her.”
Ben crossed his arms at his chest and rubbed a hand over the late-afternoon scruff on his chin. “We do know that Paul cared for her deeply, however. Enough that he made arrangements with the sheriff here to have his bank account and land deeded to her name.”
“You can’t be serious,” he ground out.
“As serious as the river’s rise come spring, son,” the sheriff corrected.
“Was he in his right mind?” Aaron probed, feeling squeezed by the way he’d promised himself between a rock and a hard place.
“Yes, he was in his right mind.” The reproving look Ben gave pulled Aaron up short. “In fact, he made a stipulation that if, by summer’s end, Hope decides that staying here on the farm is too much, then she can sell. The money would be hers to keep and do with what she wanted.”
The sheriff sliced a breath through his sparse teeth. “Don’t know what her background is, but one way or t’other, as far as money’s concerned, she’s settin’ pretty now. Just as pretty as the lady is herself,” he added with a tactless chuckle.
“Sheriff, do you mind going into town to let folks know?” Ben ushered the man to the door. “That would help a great deal.”
Aaron gave a relieved sigh. Goodwin, though well meaning, lacked social grace and would only make things more awkward with his ill-placed attempts at humor.
“Sure will.” He tugged at his britches and patted where his gun was strapped to his side in that self-important way of his. “Is there anything else I can get you boys?”
“Not that I can think of. But we’ll sure let you know if there is, all right?” Ben slapped him on the back. “But if you happen to know where Jane is—”
“Denver. She’s returning tomorrow.” The sheriff slid a hand along his belt. “I’ll be the one to break the news to her, because knowin’ Jane…she might just need a big ole’ shoulder to cry on, seein’ as how he was her brother and all.” Goodwin scuffed out the door, his boots tramping over the porch floor.
Once he was gone, Ben returned to where Zach and Aaron were standing, his expression bleak.
“There’s another thing, Aaron.” Zach squared his shoulders.
Wary, Aaron braced himself. “What’s that?”
Zach and Ben exchanged concerned glances. “Well, after you left for the train station, Paul couldn’t stop expressing how grateful he was that you’d made the promise you did.”
“That brought him a lot of comfort, Aaron,” Zach encouraged. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“Well,
