Destructive Desires


Destructive Desires


Destructive Desires

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The next morning, after breakfast with her parents and the usual small talk about what they would do that day, Olivia headed to her room. She was surprised to find it empty when she opened the door.

She had thought Mrs. Nolan might want to chat some more since they were alone again this time around, but apparently not. “Goodness,” Olivia said aloud as she closed the door behind herself. “What a mess.”

She looked at the bed where she’d spent two nights in the last three weeks. It hadn’t been made up properly since the previous guest had slept there; blankets pulled off the mattress, sheets tumbled on the floor.

There were clothes scattered over the chair by the window and one of her mother’s favorite books lying face down on the nightstand. The maid must have forgotten to put these away before she left for work that morning. That explained why she was late getting home from church.

Olivia walked over to the wardrobe and glanced inside. Nothing seemed out of place so far except for one pair of trousers. They weren’t hers or even her mother’s. These belonged to her father. She recognized his pants because he often wore them on horseback, riding along with his men during hunting expeditions. Why had someone stolen those trousers?

It didn’t take long for her mind to fill in the rest: Someone had taken the trousers while Mr. Nolan was still sleeping upstairs. What else could be missing besides those pants?

“That must have been who stole my pistol!” she exclaimed.

Her heart thundered in her chest. Not only had someone robbed her, but now her gun was gone too! If anyone knew how to use a gun like the one Olivia carried, it was her father. He used it every chance he got to hunt game—not that there was much to hunt around here—and shoot targets.

Had the thief also gotten hold of the money that was kept under her pillow? Probably. How did such a thing happen? Who would have known that her gun was hidden in that particular drawer? Certainly not Mrs. Nolan.

No one else lived in the house except for the servants. And who else could have possibly found out that the gun was stashed there? Only one person…

Mrs. Nolan.

How could she have done something like this without anyone knowing? Her lips curled into an ugly scowl. With no doubt whatsoever, it had to be the woman. But then again, it wouldn’t surprise her if her husband did know.

After all, she couldn’t think of any other reason why his wife would need a gun. Perhaps the woman felt threatened by Olivia. Or maybe she wanted to protect him against her. Either way, it wasn’t surprising. Neither of them liked the other very much. In fact, Olivia never understood why they married in the first place.

But if Mrs. Nolan was responsible, why would she bother stealing the money? It wasn’t as though she needed any cash. She certainly had enough money saved up already. Maybe it was just an excuse. A way to get rid of her unwanted guest.

With the gun stolen and her father’s trousers gone, Olivia had no choice but to leave town immediately. She hoped that she would be able to make good time since she had only packed a single bag with her things. So many questions raced through her mind. Where should she go? Should she tell the sheriff about what happened? Did she have anything to hide?

No, she decided right away. This wasn’t her problem anymore. Let the police deal with it. She didn’t want to waste another moment thinking about it. Besides, it wasn’t as though she had much to pack anyway. Just some toiletries, a change of underwear, her writing materials, and her journal. Oh yes, she almost forgot: Her diary.

As soon as she reached the stable, she saddled the mare and rode her out toward the main road. As she went farther down the road, the trees thinned out until they gave way to wide-open plains. It was hot and sunny, which meant she was lucky to be heading south. Soon the sun began its downward journey, making the sky glow orange.

Just as the horizon turned purple, Olivia saw a light coming toward her. She guessed it was the ranch house, but instead of going straight toward her, the light took a turn and headed toward the mountains. Then came the sound of hooves hitting the dirt, followed by a familiar voice.

“You’re leaving us?” Mr. Nolan asked when he caught up with her.

“Yes,” she replied curtly. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed heavily and dismounted his horse. He leaned forward and patted her neck, scratching behind the ears. His fingers were rough compared to her smooth ones, yet she appreciated the gesture.

“Why are you apologizing?” she asked. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I shouldn’t have expected you to stay.”

His brows rose slightly. “Well, you might have thought otherwise.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because your father told me you don’t belong here—”

“My father doesn’t own this land,” she interrupted. “The ranch belongs to myself and my brother.”

“And I suppose you’ll be staying at the ranch once school is out for summer break?”

“I plan on visiting for the duration of the summer vacation, but afterward I will return to Chicago. You can count on that.”

Mr. Nolan smiled. “Your brother has grown quite fond of you. We both do.”

She didn’t reply. Instead, she looked back at the ranch house, wondering why neither of her parents ever mentioned that she was adopted. Had she been born out of wedlock? Was this ranch even hers or was it still part of her father’s inheritance from his uncle?

Why hadn’t either of her parents told her their true identity? They never said anything about being twins, nor did they talk about where they grew up.

Olivia turned her attention back to her traveling companion. What kind of life did Mr. Nolan lead? Was it lonely living alone in these vast lands? There must have been plenty of women in Denver, so why was he willing to settle for a woman from nowhere?

And how come he didn’t ask any questions about her past? No matter how hard she tried to guess what was really happening, there were too many questions left unanswered. The more she pondered, the more she realized she had no idea who she really was—and no one else seemed to care either.

***

When she returned home to find everything exactly as she left it, Olivia knew something had changed while she was gone. It was late afternoon and the sunlight poured in through the windows of her room, painting the walls yellow.

But there was something different about the room. Something subtle, but noticeable. She sat up on the bed and listened closely. That’s when she noticed the soft sounds of someone humming and tapping the keys of a piano.

She got off the bed and walked over to the door. It opened easily. Not because she had forgotten how to lock the door, but because her mother had given the key to her new friend, Mrs. Nolan. Perhaps Olivia’s mother thought she could trust her.

After all, she’d known Mrs. Nolan for years. Or perhaps her mother was simply worried that Olivia wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing such a personal space with an outsider. Whatever the reason, Olivia felt grateful to know that she wasn’t being locked away.

So far, she had only seen the two men at work around the ranch. When they weren’t busy doing chores, they spent most of their days playing cards or watching sports on television. Neither of them appeared to be interested in romance, which made her wonder if she was the only unmarried woman in the family.

If that was the case, then she wondered why her father didn’t bring any other single female into their lives.

She stopped at the doorway and glanced inside. A man dressed in dark clothes was sitting in front of the grand piano. He wore black gloves and a white hat, but his hair was gray. He played beautifully, drawing out notes, which brought forth a melodious tune. As she watched him play, he suddenly stopped. He glanced at the window and then looked right at her.

“Good evening,” he said.

She nodded politely, unsure whether to go inside. For some odd reason, she found herself reluctant to enter.

“Come in,” he invited.

Reluctantly she stepped into the room. “Do you live here?”

“No, I just came to visit.”

“Oh…” She frowned and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself.”

“It’s fine. My name is Tom Nolan,” he explained.

“You’re the one who plays the piano.”

He nodded. “That’s correct. Are you a musician yourself?”

“Not anymore.”

“But you used to play the violin?”

Her eyes narrowed. “How did you know that?”

“Just guessing,” he answered. “From the way you hold your instrument and the way you pluck those strings.”

She laughed softly. “Yes, well, I’ve gotten rusty since I stopped playing.”

“Would you like to hear me play again?”

“Please do,” she replied. Then added, “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but are you related to Mrs. Nolan?”

“We aren’t blooded relatives, but we’ve become close friends,” he said.

A faint smile touched her lips. “Mrs. Nolan seems very nice.”

“As am I,” he said.

His voice sounded warm and inviting; she almost forgot she was talking to a stranger. Yet despite the friendly tone, she couldn’t help but notice how cold his gaze seemed to be. Her heart skipped a beat when she caught a glimpse of the scars on his face.

They reminded her of the burn scar on her own hand, though hers was much worse than this men. Did he get hurt by fire? Had he also lost part of his eye? She would never forget the look of horror in his eye after the accident.

Then the image faded and the scars were gone. His expression returned to normal and he continued playing the melody. Olivia leaned against the wall and listened to every note, wondering where the music originated.

At first, she thought it might have come from outside the house. But when she peered out the window, she saw nothing except a small pasture filled with horses. There were no musicians playing nearby, so what was going on?

After another moment, she realized that the music had actually come from the house. She turned around to see Mr. Nolan standing next to the piano, staring at her with a peculiar intensity.

For a second, she froze. The last time she saw such a strange look in a person’s eye, she ended up in a trunk. What was happening now? Was this man trying to tell her something?

“Did you enjoy the performance?” he asked.

“Very much so,” she replied, still unsure of what exactly she was feeling. “May I ask what song that was?”

“Why not guess?”

Olivia shrugged and decided to try. “Perhaps ‘Swanee River?”

He chuckled. “Close enough, although there’s no river called Swanee.”

She smiled as she tried to recall the words. “I think I remember hearing a song about a swamp once… It began with the line: ‘Swanee river, swampland.’ That sounds familiar.”

He nodded. “The Swamp Fox was a Confederate general during the American Civil War, named Nathan Bedford Forrest. This was the title of one of his songs.”

“And the swamp?”

“Was in Florida. Now you know the rest of the story.”

Olivia glanced back at the grand piano and remembered the lyrics. “‘Swamp fox, swamplands, swamps all over.'”

“Right!”

They both stared at each other for a few moments before saying goodnight. She went upstairs while he walked down the hallway toward the front door. After he left, she went back to her room and lay down on the bed.

Though she’d heard only two songs tonight, the melodies lingered long afterward. And when she closed her eyes, the memory of those hauntingly beautiful notes followed her into sleep.

***

Two days later, Olivia stood outside the office building, watching as men and women passed through the large doors. One of them was Thomas Nolan, dressed in an elegant suit. He looked much better than he did earlier that week. Much more handsome, too. As if sensing someone behind him, he spun around. “Good morning, Miss Wright.”

“Hello,” she said, smiling.

“Are you ready to start work?”

“I suppose I’ll find out soon enough,” she replied. “Have you seen Mrs. Nolan yet?”

“No.”

“What about Tom?”

“Tom?” He shook his head. “There isn’t anyone here named Tom.”

“Well, I’m sure there will be,” she told him. “So far, everything has been fine. Have you met any of the townspeople yet?”

“Only the ones who live inside these walls. Not many people venture beyond.”

“You mean they’re afraid of us?”

“Afraid is putting it mildly. Most people consider gunfighters to be monsters or outlaws.”

“That’s understandable.”

Thomas laughed lightly. “But some are willing to take a chance on a newcomer, even a woman. You seem to have made quite an impression already.”

Olivia blushed. “It wasn’t anything special.”

“Nothing special? How can you say that?”

She hesitated before answering, “How should I put it? People just want to talk to me.”

“Because of your beauty, perhaps?”

A quick glance revealed that his gaze had drifted down her body, making her feel uncomfortable. “Maybe,” she replied softly. “But most people don’t realize that looks alone won’t get them anywhere.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Does that include yourself?”

Her cheeks grew hot again. Why did he keep asking such embarrassing questions? Did he really expect her to admit she had feelings for him? No. Even if she did, she wouldn’t do it. Instead, she chose to change the subject.

“Where does everyone go for lunch?”

“To the hotel, which is right across the street.”

“Is that where we’re eating today?”

“Yes, but not until after you’ve learned how things operate here. For starters, I would like to show you around the town square. There may be a few surprises awaiting you.”

“Surprises?”

“Of course! In fact, I believe that might be my favorite word.”

Olivia didn’t understand why he found humor in the idea of being surprised by her, but she supposed she should be happy. Maybe he could stop talking about love and romance for a little while. Although he hadn’t mentioned it since their first meeting, she assumed he must still harbor romantic thoughts about her.

But she couldn’t let herself become involved with another man—not when she had her heart set on marrying a real cowboy.

After leaving the office, they walked along Main Street, past several stores. The windows were brightly lit, offering glimpses of goods displayed inside. A jewelry store showed off a dazzling collection of diamonds and gems. Other shops offered clothing and shoes.

The latter seemed odd to Olivia because she thought cowboys wore boots instead of high-heeled footwear. Perhaps it was just part of the fashion trend she noticed everywhere else.

“We need to get rid of this jacket,” she said. “Or maybe you could use it.”

Thomas stopped walking. “Don’t tell me you plan to wear that dress out in public.”

“Why not? It’s comfortable.”

“It’s also scandalous.”

“I guess so,” she admitted reluctantly. “At least now I know what the sheriff meant when he said no respectable woman wears clothes like that.”

“I doubt it,” he mused, staring up at the sign hanging above the shop window. “Most women prefer to hide away from society and pretend they never existed.”

“If you ask me, it’s rather sad. If only they knew that every woman has a story worth telling.”

“True enough,” he murmured. “Including you.”

Olivia turned toward him. “Do you think so?”

“Yes. Very much so.” His eyes held hers, and suddenly she felt dizzy. “Come, let’s go into the restaurant. We can discuss more interesting topics over lunch.”

The lunch menu consisted of three choices: beef stew, pork chops, or fried chicken. She ordered the chicken, which came with mashed potatoes, green beans, cornbread, and two slices of bread. After placing her order, Thomas took the seat beside her. They both ate in silence, neither wanting to speak lest it ruins the mood.

When they finished eating, he led her outside to the waiting carriage. As they pulled away from the curb, he reached out to touch her cheek. “You look very lovely.”

“Thank you,” she whispered back, feeling shy all of a sudden.

They rode through town in near silence, passing by a saloon filled with rowdy men, drinking and shouting. Then there were the brothels, which Olivia realized were run by women as well. At the sight of the prostitutes, she glanced over at Thomas, wondering if he would be offended if she asked him to stop the carriage.

He merely shook his head, indicating that she shouldn’t worry about it.

Soon the carriage rolled onto a dirt road, winding its way between hills covered in sagebrush. Their route took them through the vast plains of Montana, a land that looked desolate despite having been settled for many years.

The End

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