“Now that I’ve been rescued by such a kind, handsome man, I wanted to give you a reward, but I seem to have lost my reticule,” she wept, holding a hand over her face.
“Don’t worry, Ma’am. I’ll see you get into town safely. I’m sorry if I seemed harsh, but your story didn’t make any sense, none a’tall. Let’s get your things together and I’ll strap them behind my saddle. Don’t fret so.”
“But I was going to find a boarding house,” she insisted sadly. “Now I have no money and no place to stay until I can get a job.”
“I might know someone who will put you up and maybe give you a job too if you’re not fussy. Come on,” he said kindly, leading her to his horse with his hand on the small of her back. “We’ll think of something.”
“I’ll never be able to thank you,” Cara said with a profound sniff.
“Hogwash. Let’s get you to town and settled somewhere. We’ll worry about the rest later.”
He tied her bags across his horse’s flank and swung into the saddle.
“You’ll have to ride in front of me,” he informed her, reaching down. “There’s no room behind me.”
Cara stretched to her toes, and he grasped her forearm, pulling her up quite easily. Once she was settled, he snapped the reins and they began to move.
“You say your husband beats you?” he asked after they’d been on the road for a little while.
“Yes.”
“Don’t you have any male kin to put him in his place and hold him accountable?”
“No.”
“What about his family? They won’t intervene and protect you either?”
“No, we’re both only children with no brothers or sisters. Our folks have passed too, so it’s only him and I,” Cara explained carefully.
“I see.”
He was silent for a while, and she was grateful. The fewer lies she had to tell, the better. She’d never been very good at it. Finally, he spoke again.
“When you say he beats you, do you mean he uses his fists?” Matthew asked angrily.
“Well, not exactly,” she quietly answered. “He doesn’t punch me or anything, but…”
“But what?”
“This is humiliating, sir,” she whispered.
“I’m sure it’s not something you want to talk about, Ma’am, but I need to know how serious this is. He may come looking for you; in fact, I’m sure of it. You’re mighty pretty and I doubt he’ll just let you walk away, seeing how you’re his wife and all. I may have to go to the marshal. In any case, can you tell me some of what he’s capable of?”
Cara wracked her brain trying to come up with something a man in his generation would consider objectionable, yet not arrest worthy. She didn’t need some posse or something riding out to look for a man who did not exist. Her story would fall apart entirely.
“He angers easily,” she began timidly, “and he has a frightful temper. At least once a week he’ll grab me and pull me over his knees.”
“His knees?”
“Yes, and then he embarrasses me dreadfully, lifting my skirts and pulling down my drawers. It’s so humiliating.”
“Does he strike you with an open palm?” Matt asked.
“Most of the time, but sometimes he uses things,” she replied.
“Such as?”
“A belt, a wooden spoon, or a paddle he made in his barn. Once or twice he’s used his razor strap,” she continued, getting into the spirit and giving a shiver. “That’s the worst, in my opinion. I hate that thing.”
