Chapter Twenty-three
MIDMORNING THE NEXTday, Sophia finally emerged from the bedroom to a silent, empty house. She was grateful for that, at least. Her single bag was packed, and it was easier to leave without having to face Reverend and Mrs. Canton. Saying goodbye to them might break her resolve entirely.
Part of her wished to run back into the room and wait for Matthew to return. To beg him to love her and to send Miss Timperman away.
She squared her shoulders and shut the door behind her. She’d already asked him to convince Miss Timperman to go, and he had chosen not to. Not only that, he didn’t believe her when she said the woman had threatened her.
Well, Miss Timperman had won. Sophia would leave, and once she arrived to wherever she might end up, she’d find an attorney to annul her marriage. Matthew would be free to marry the woman he wanted to marry all along.
And Sophia would be alone again.
She crept through the quiet house, trying not to think again about his betrayal. That had hurt most of all. She thought he’d understood that she was sorry to have deceived him when they’d first met, but it seemed he had never truly forgiven her. And she had only herself to blame for that.
Stepping outside, Sophia closed the door and began to make her way to the bank. She would withdraw her money and then leave on the noon train. It headed south, she thought, toward Santa Fe. New Mexico Territory sounded as good a place as any. Or perhaps she’d continue on to California.
Wherever she went, it wouldn’t be the same. But it would be hers, and that would have to be good enough.
She was all the way to the boarding house before she realized she’d not only passed the bank, but was on the wrong side of the road. She turned to make her way back—and ran right into someone.
Not justsomeone.
Mr. Durham.
Sophia gasped as his hand shot out to grab hold of her arm. “Let go—”
“There’s no need for hysterics, Miss Zane. Or wait, it’s Mrs. Canton now, isn’t it? Didn’t want to marry me, but you’ll throw yourself at the first man who comes your way out here.”
All the distaste Sophia had felt for him back in Kansas City resurfaced, rising from deep inside and finding its way out through words. “How dare you. Take your hand off me, Mr. Durham, or I’ll be forced to make a scene out here on the street.”
“There’s no need for that, Mrs. Canton.” He dropped his eyes to the bag at her side. “Are you leaving? How convenient.”
She didn’t answer. He was almost certainly the man Trudie had described causing trouble in the bank. And if he knew she was here and he had been in the bank, that meant he wanted one thing.
Her money.
She had to talk to him. To keep him distracted long enough for someone to see them and take note of her distress. “How did you find me?”
An ugly grin overtook his face. “It took some effort, but I’m persistent. Once I determined you were no longer in the city and no one at the depot had seen you, all I could figure was that you’d gone out with a wagon train. And sure enough, a man who’d grown ill and had to remain behind told me all about the lady on her own who’d arrived just before the wagons left. She had a different name, but she fit your description.” His fingers dug into her arm. “I must hand it to you. I never figured you as one to endure a journey by covered wagon.”
Sophia lifted her chin. “There is a lot about me you don’t know, Mr. Durham.”
He made a sound in his throat, as if he was strangling a laugh. “I’m only here to claim what is rightfully mine. What you stole from me. I want the money, Mrs. Canton.”
“You’re too late,” she said. “It’s gone.” Her heart thumped harder. It was partially true.Someof the money was gone, paid to outlaws and spent on train fare and lodging and two new dresses.
