Eleanor's Dilemma Read online

  ELEANOR’S

  DILEMMA

  THE BELLES OF

  WYOMING SERIES

  Book 19

  Cheryl Wright

  Contents:

  Copyright

  Thanks

  About the Author

  Author Links:

  PROLOGUE

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Epilogue

  Belles of Wyoming Series

  ELEANOR’S DILEMMA

  THE BELLES OF WYOMING

  BOOK 19

  Copyright © 2019 Cheryl Wright

  Cover Artist: Black Widow Books

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book

  Thanks

  Thanks to my very dear friends (and authors), Margaret Tanner and Susan Horsnell for their enduring encouragement.

  Thanks also to Alan, my husband of over 44 years, who has been a relentless supporter of my writing for many years.

  And last, but by no means least, I must thank all my wonderful readers who encourage me to continue writing these stories. It is such a joy to me, knowing so many of you enjoy reading my stories. I love writing them as much as you love reading them.

  About the Author

  Multi-published, best selling and award-winning author, Cheryl Wright, former secretary, debt collector, account manager, writing coach, and shopping tour hostess, loves reading.

  She writes both contemporary and historical western romance, as well as contemporary romance and romantic suspense.

  She lives in Melbourne, Australia, and is married with two adult children and has six grandchildren.

  When she’s not writing, she can be found in her craft room making greeting cards.

  Check out Cheryl’s Amazon page for a full list of her other books.

  Author Links:

  http://cheryl-wright.com

  https://www.facebook.com/cherylwrightauthor

  Join my newsletter here!

  PROLOGUE

  GREAT FALLS

  NEBRASKA

  1881

  Eleanor Carter was not long awake and making up the bed when she heard ear-piercing screams coming from the sitting room.

  Momentarily she froze.

  Shaking with fear, she silently went to the bedroom door and opened it a fraction. What she saw left her horrified. Two men, both with guns and daggers, were attacking her dear husband, Nathaniel.

  “Where’s the money?” one man yelled, plunging a knife into Nathaniel’s stomach.

  She covered her mouth with both hands to stop herself from screaming.

  What should she do? Could she get help in time?

  She’d lived a privileged life, there was no doubt about it, and this house, or mansion as some preferred to call it, had plenty of places to hide. But she was certain these animals wouldn’t want to leave any witnesses behind.

  “There’s no money in the house,” she heard Nathaniel say, his voice wavering. The knife plunged into his stomach again.

  “You fool,” the other man shouted moments later. “That’s not helping. You’ve gone and killed him.” He covered his face with his hands. “What are we going to do now?”

  She swallowed hard as she watched the life drain out of her husband, then did the only thing she could think to do. Escape.

  Eleanor quietly opened the bedroom window, slipping out onto the wet, dew-covered grass. Although it was late May, the air was still crisp, and often chilly, this time of the morning.

  So early in fact, she hadn’t yet put on her boots, and the ground beneath her feet was cold and damp. As her bare feet hit the ground, she stopped, listening for any indication they knew she was even in the house.

  The wind whistling through the now open window pushed on the slightly open door, and it creaked. Eleanor cringed.

  “What was that?”

  She knew what would happen if they found her, so she ran. She didn’t look back until she was safely huddled in a small cave not far from the falls that fell on their property.

  Even then she didn’t allow herself to cry for her dear husband, Nathanial. What if they heard? For they would surely be out looking for her. Listening for any indication she was there.

  Her heart was hollow – her Nathaniel was dead. She tried not to think about the torture he’d endured, but it would surely insinuate itself into her nightmares for many years to come.

  She grieved for her husband, and grieved for the life they’d planned. They wanted a family together, at least four children, and now that would never happen. She fought back a sob, fearing for her life.

  Eleanor stopped. She could hear voices in the distance and decided it was no longer safe in the small cave. She carefully edged to the opening, and with no one in sight, slid out and ran to the nearby falls, silently slipping in behind them.

  It was a secret place that only she and Nathaniel knew about. They would often go to the river in the heat of summer and swim there.

  She recalled the first time they were swimming and Nathaniel disappeared. She was panic stricken believing him drowned, but he was hiding behind the falls, and was totally invisible.

  He hid for what seemed an eternity, and she was near hysterical before he showed himself. She never forgave him for terrifying her that day.

  Now she was grateful because it may be what saves her life.

  Chapter One

  BELLE

  WYOMING

  1881

  Eleanor Carter stared out the window of the stagecoach.

  This was not where she wanted to be. Belle, Wyoming was not on her wish list, never had been. She preferred the hustle and bustle of Great Falls, Nebraska.

  Her favorite pastime was shopping – for gowns, and for boots. She loved to socialize, to get out amongst the richest of the rich.

  She attended high society balls at least once a month. Nathaniel didn’t care much for them, but he cared for her, loved her, and went along with her because it made her happy. It also helped his standing in the community.

  She fervently wished she was back home, but it wasn't to be. Couldn’t be.

  She pulled her thoughts from the tragedy that had recently occurred and absorbed the countryside. It reminded her so much of her beloved Nebraska, especially this time of year.

  The fragrance of nature assailing her senses was a welcomed memory.

  Normally she would love the scene before her – undulating mountains with massive trees clumped close together, wild flowers scattered about, and long green grass. Birds twittering reminded her so much of home. Of their home – out in the middle of nowhere, and away from everything else.

  It also reminded her of the day she had no choice but to trample through the dew-covered grass, her feet bare running for her life.

  She swallowed back a sob.

  The stagecoach slowed, and she turned her attention to the town of Belle, now visible, and grimaced.

  “What are you thinking?”

  She glanced at Glen Sanders sitting opposite, then ran her hands down her skirts. She felt far from presentable.

  She lifted her head momentarily before answering. “What a miserable one-horse town I've been dragged into.” She almost spat the words out.

  He glared at her
. “This one-horse town as you call it,” he said between gritted teeth, “will likely save your life.”

  He was right, she knew he was, but that didn't mean she had to be happy about it.

  She just hoped the ranch he had organized and she paid for, was livable. Eleanor knew it was wishful thinking but what choice did she have?

  Glen, gentleman he was, helped her down from the stagecoach.

  “Thank you,” she said. Despite her current demeanor, her manners were inbuilt.

  Their eyes met.

  “You are welcome, darling, ” he said, glancing at Jeremy Bryant, the stagecoach driver, hovering nearby .

  “I have some errands to attend to,” he told Jeremy. “Is there somewhere my wife can wait with our luggage until I return?”

  They were directed to a small cafe not far away. “You can wait there at the Belle Café. Get a bit to eat too, if you want.”

  He thanked the man and led his wife to the café, where he deposited her and their luggage.

  “Welcome!” The smiling waitress hovered next to her, waiting for her order. “I’m Charity, and I’ll be looking after you.”

  Eleanor forced herself to smile. It wasn’t Charity’s fault she was in a foul mood because she didn’t want to be here in Belle.

  “What would you like?”

  Eleanor glanced through the menu. “Thank you, Charity,” she said amicably. “I’ll have a black tea with a slice of lemon, and…” she perused the snacks. “I would love a biscuit with jam.” She looked up and smiled at the young woman.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Eleanor settled in her seat, then watched as her husband accosted the sheriff as he did his rounds. After a heated discussion, the two men headed in the opposite direction.

  As she sipped her tea, Eleanor wondered how much Glen Sanders would tell the sheriff about her sinister predicament.

  Glen slumped down in the chair and ordered a coffee. “Strong and black. And I’ll have one of those too, thanks” he said to Charity, pointing at Eleanor’s biscuit with jam.

  “I gather it didn’t go well,” she said, noticing the miserable look on his face.

  He shook his head. “Sheriff Knight was none to happy I’d not let him know in advance we were coming. But as I explained to him, we couldn’t risk word getting out.”

  He lowered his voice as Charity returned with his order. “Can you point me to the Mercantile,” he asked as she was about to leave.

  “Cross Main Street, then it’s a few doors up.”

  “Really? Do we have to?” Eleanor said, annoyed.

  Charity laughed. “You don’t like shopping?” She obviously thought it a joke. But to Eleanor it wasn’t.

  “My, uh, wife is a bit of a recluse,” Glen explained, hoping that would cover them for their lack of appearance. It was sure to be noticed in a town this small. He’d already told her it was going to be tricky to explain their lack of participation in a place of this size.

  They didn’t even know it existed until one of his former colleagues from the Pinkerton Detectives said he had a cousin five times removed living there. They hadn’t seen each other in decades due to its remote location.

  It would be the perfect hideaway until the law was able to find the men who murdered Eleanor’s husband.

  Glen stood as he gulped down the last mouthful of his coffee. “If you’re ready, we’ll go,” he said, then turned to Charity. “Could we leave our luggage here while we run a few errands? I don’t mind paying.”

  Of course he didn’t. It wasn’t his money. Despite her inward annoyance, she smiled at the waitress who complied with the request, but pushed the notes aside. “Our pleasure,” she said, guiding Glen to the place he could leave their few measly belongings.

  At least he had spare clothes and a few personal items; she had nothing. Glen told her they couldn’t risk going back to the house in case she was seen. Eleanor knew he was right.

  She’d hidden behind those falls for what seemed a lifetime, but was in fact three days. She figured the killers would have given up by then, and she was right. Still, it had been a risk to ride into town for help.

  Her mind swung back to the present when Glen led her outside and they headed to the Mercantile.

  The sun was shining, and the sky was blue. If Eleanor hadn’t known better, she’d think it was a glorious day. She took the opportunity to look around the Main Street. It wasn’t Great Falls, but at least she would be able to pick up some supplies here.

  As they entered the Mercantile, they were warmly welcomed. “Welcome, welcome,” Livvy Stewart said, before introducing herself. “This is my husband, Henry, and I’m Livvy. You’re new in town!”

  She sounded so excited to see them, and under any other circumstances, Eleanor would be too. She loved to socialize, but not on this level so much.

  Glen extended his hand to Henry Stewart. “I’m Glen Sanders, and this is my wife, Eleanor.”

  Livvy stepped forward and hugged her warmly. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

  Eleanor sank into her. She fought back the tears that stung her eyes, but couldn’t let them free. Her arms went up around the other woman, and she held tight. She knew that under other circumstances they could be friends.

  Of course Livvy wasn’t on her level in society, but that wouldn’t stop them being friends. Not in a place like this, anyway.

  She let her arms fall to her sides. “I need some supplies please,” she said, mustering up the best smile she could. “Gowns and other, er, personal items.”

  Glen intervened. “Her luggage was lost on our trip here,” he explained. How he came up with these stories on the fly, she’d never know.

  Livvy escorted her to the gowns, bonnets, undergarments and other personal items she would need. “We’ll open an account for you,” she said cordially.

  Glen glanced across to where they stood. “No need. We’ll pay in cash.” Henry stared at him. “We won’t be around much. My wife is a bit of a recluse,” he said, using the same explanation as before. At least his story was consistent.

  Once she’d made all her purchases, they loaded up with food and other supplies such as blankets and pillows. Traveling light did have its drawbacks.

  “If you can hold onto these until I get the wagon?” Wagon? She had no knowledge of a wagon. “I hired one from the livery. We need to get to the ranch, and I knew we’d have supplies, darling.” He grinned at her, and she wanted to slap him. He pulled her close to his side.

  He was going just a little too far with this façade. If they hadn’t been in public, she would have slapped his face.

  “That’s fine,” Henry said. “Where are you going to live, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Her heart raced. It was probably an innocent enough question, but would it put them in danger?

  “We bought an old ranch about ten miles south east of Belle. Got it for a bargain – the Land Agent said it was all but abandoned.”

  “I think I know where you mean. The old Jones place. Heck, that’s been empty for a couple of years, since the old man died.” He scratched his head. “I hate to think what you might find out there.”

  “Hopefully it’s not too bad. If it is, we’ll stay at the hotel for a few days until I can fix it.”

  Henry scratched his head again. “We can probably get a bunch of fellows out there to help. That’s what we do around here.”

  Panic hit her in the chest, and she felt Glen’s arm creep up her back, and hold her tight again. His reassurance helped calm her racing heart.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want to put anyone out. I’ll check it out first. It might be fine.”

  “Have it your way,” Henry said, a puzzled look on his face. Then he smiled. “You’re city folks, aren’t you,” he said, brightening up.

  Glen laughed. “Does it show that much?” Then they left to collect the wagon from the livery.

  Their innocent trip to th
e Mercantile had been one of terror for the new widow.

  Chapter Two

  Eleanor groaned as they pulled up outside the ranch. Her ranch.

  It appeared old and rundown. A few palings had fallen off, and the roof needed repairs as well.

  Glen helped her down from the wagon, and she opened the gate. It fell off in her hands.

  This was far from what she was used to. With her husband being the pillar of society back in Great Falls, they had the largest house on the biggest block of land.

  Nathaniel had built the six-bedroom mansion with their future family in mind. It included a study where he could work at home, and a classroom where their children could be homeschooled.

  She stood with the remnants of the wooden gate in her hands, tears rolling down her face. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her, and was startled as Glen took the gate out of her hands.

  “It will be alright,” he said gently.

  She stared at him as she swiped at her cheeks. “You don’t know that,” she spat. She took a deep breath. “I hope the interior isn’t as bad as the outside.”

  He pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. Eleanor gazed through the windows. It wasn’t home, but it would have to do. She had no other choice.

  Glen stepped inside. “It looks cozy. The furniture is covered with sheets, so at least it won’t be dusty.”

  He was right, but what was underneath? She pulled off the sheet covering the sofa. It was surprisingly pretty. She pushed at it with her fingers – it felt solid, good quality. And it was large.

  She eyed her husband. It might even be large enough for him to sleep on, despite his height.

  Eleanor wandered around the room. It needed a good dusting and a sweep, but it wasn’t too bad considering it had been locked up for a couple of years. The fireplace needed cleaning out, and the windows needed a wash, but she could manage.