October 1873 Lina I winced as the train whistle, sharp as an injured cat’s cry, filled the air before drifting away. The whistle had enough time to make my two-year-old niece, Ella May, burst into terrified tears. Surveying the streets of the ramshackle town I had just arrived in, I decided that the safest place to ascertain my brother Will’s location would be the mercantile. It was the only place that looked safe enough for an unarmed female and her young niece to explore without a male escort. After charming (by flirting) the young owner into giving me a bit of information, I bought Ella May a toy horse (the child’s in love with all things equine) and purchased a stick of candy to distract my taste buds from the smoke I inhaled on the porch, where men where smoking cigars. The shop owner said that my brother hadn’t been seen much around Mustang Canyon of late. I was worried; Will was a drunkard and a gambler-two dangerous personality traits worse in one body. I grinned, though, as I noticed Ella May had finally fallen into slumber. I had a few minutes of peace to search for my brother, without the little girl pointing out every horse in a two-mile radius. ~ Ella May clutched my left hand, babbling in her sweet little voice. “Horse! It’s gray!” She skipped, singing about the pretty ponies. I gave a groan as I watched her swing her new toy around. She had only slept for five minutes before waking again. Picking her up, I pressed her warm body to my chest, resting my lips on my niece’s soft curls. “I know you do, sweets.” Passing the smoky, dirty, crowded, noisy train station; I jumped as a trunk fell from the arms of the men trying to load it. A crack, loud as a gunshot, burst into the air, hung for a second, then disappeared. But the items tumbling out made even the noise silly. For, out of the trunk, a dead body fell. ~ I do not know what events transpired after that moment. I was unconscious. I woke in an unlocked jail cell, a sheriff in the corner with my niece by his side. Apparently, I was not a criminal. More of a guest. It bothered me, though, the way he observed me with his deep brown eyes, as if he was searching my soul. Ella May was playing with her toy horse, chatting with the sheriff and fussing every time he ignored her. I noticed that as soon as she started crying he just threw her some penny candy. Soon she cried whenever the candy flow stopped. “My name’s Jeb Eastwood, ma’am,” the sheriff said as he strolled over to me, spurs clicking methodically on the floor. “The little munchkin tells me you’re named Carolina.” “I go by Lina,” I answered in a stiff voice. He nodded, leaning against the wall, still using that intense stare. “She also said the body was her father.” That was why I had passed out. I started to remember a few pieces of the puzzle. “He was my-“ “Brother,” Jeb finished, apparently feeling the need to end my sentences. “She’s your niece.” I gave him a nod, knowing he probably paid Ella May in candy for this information. She was a chatterbox, for sure, but only talked about herself. Never me, never the father who left at the first note of heartbreak. “She says you were looking for said brother,” Jeb continued, “and that he was, as she called him, a ‘not nice man’. Is this true?” I did not want to talk about Will. He was a gambler. A drunkard, who ran off when his wife died, leaving his baby to fend for herself. “She’s correct.” Jeb leaned both of his large hands against the wall, allowing a break from questioning. I studied him, lean body illuminated by the sun from the window, jaw unshaved, his hands calloused. He looked young, a little older than my sixteen years, I guessed around twenty-one. No wedding ring marked his finger. His eyes glanced into mine, scolding my staring without using a word, then he glanced away. But his eyes wandered back, every few seconds, before they jumped away again. “We’re checking the address on the crate. We’ll get back with you soon. My deputy Wyatt can help me out some.” I was dismissed. ~ Wyatt I chuckled in my office, setting up shotgun shells like dominos and then knocking them down. Apparently, both the girl and the sheriff didn’t suspect me of anything yet. Apparently, I was safe. When my wife died, I had to look for more ways to support my children. Without her schoolteacher’s pay, my salary as deputy just couldn’t put food on the table and a roof over their heads. But when I found gambling, I had a way to supplement my salary with ease. I had soon learned not to gamble with William Smithson. Even if he owed money, he wouldn’t pay. And so I punished him for it. Now his sister was here, and searching for the murderer. But she wouldn’t find me. It was impossible. After all, I am a lawman. And lawmen are never suspected. ~ Lina The next morning, just as I pulled a faded calico over my head, a knock rang through my hotel room. “Missy, it’s the sheriff. Open up.” Jeb, I thought with a mental groan. “What?” I grumbled, yanking on the oak door to remove the barrier between me and my ornery sheriff companion. “George Smithson. The recipient of the crate, I’ve learned. Your relation?” “He’s my brother,” I whispered in a shaky tone. “My brother!” I burst into sobs, crying for my twisted, sinful family. One dead, the other assisting in the former’s murder. “Don’t cry,” someone said in a tone simultaneously gentle and gruff. “Everything’ll turn out right.” The owner of the voice batted at my tears with a soft, lavender scented handkerchief. I slowly opened my red-edged eyes, watching the sheriff’s face with shock. Being the only other person present, he was no doubt the one who had comforted me. ~ Wyatt I was furious. I thought the address on the trunk would be illegible. Apparently, it was not. I cursed myself for ever trying to ship the body. I had thought it would be honorable, to return the body to its family so it could be buried, perhaps a way to slightly redeem my murderous self. I was also angry at William Smithson, the sneak. Turns out I got the wrong guy. Turns out he hired someone else to pretend to be him. Turns out William was on to my murderous ideas. But the address on the crate also gave me an advantage, albeit a small one. I knew where William was likely hiding: with his brother. I would be able to bring the snake to justice. ~ Lina During the tedious train trip, I felt my feelings for Jeb morph. I felt endeared, closer to him- as if he felt my pain. The gentle motion of dabbing my tears made me more comfortable with him, no longer was he just a man doing his job, but a friend. I glanced at him, often, my eyes running over his handsome face. Those eyes darker than chocolate. His firm, unshaved jaw. The thick hair that fell over his face. And then I felt his eyes on me, watching me with the attention I gave him. Wyatt, on the other hand, ignored me. The only times he cast a glance to either Jeb or I was to smirk at our flirtatious behavior. He seemed disgusted, as if he had never once tried to charm a girl. It made me wonder how he found a wife Soon, we were in Hereford. I shivered as I looked about the train station, nervous about my coming mission: find my brother and track down a murderer. ~ Jeb “Lina, I’ll go get Ella May settled in a room. She seems tired. You can look for George, alright?” I asked, taking Ella May’s tiny hand. Lina nodded, her gray-blue eyes locking into mine. “Thanks.” I watched her walk away, feeling a bit of admiration for the girl. She was beautiful, incredibly beautiful, prettier than anyone I’d ever seen. With soft curls, small frame, and vibrant eyes, she appeared to be a dream. A dream I was losing my heart to… Wyatt slunk off, mumbling about how he would search for any signs of George. I knew he was just looking for a excuse to down a drink at the saloon. ~ Lina He wasn’t hard to find. George, of course, was gambling in a saloon. With his smirk that preceded victory, dark eyes gleaming, he plopped his cards on the table. “A royal flush!” I let my brother gather his cash, as greedily as an owl snatching a mouse, before I stepped close. “Hello brother.” He locked his eyes into mine with a smirk. “Lina dearest. Frankly, I expected you to come sooner.” “What a surprise. Why was Will being sent to you?” I decided to go ahead and ask the awkward question, get it out of the way. Sarcastic mock surprise danced over his features. “Will? Well, speak of the devil.” Out of the shadows, my brother Will stepped. ~ “So you see, I owed a man named Wyatt quite a lot of cash. I hired the closet drunkard who resembled me to, well, act as me. We looked so similar, I could have been tricked,” Will joked. “I knew Wyatt was planning on killing me, but the man didn’t. So, in exchange for what little money I had, he lost his life.” I was shocked. Positively shocked. Absolutely shocked. “Why was the body coming here?” “Wyatt at least had the decency to return what he thought was Will to his family for burial,” George answered. “Now, Will, go find Lina a room. She looks tired.” As Will and I slipped into the alley, life seemed better. My brothers were alive. My niece had a father once more. And the sheriff seemed interested in me… And then I realized something: The murderer was named Wyatt. Just like the deputy. Just as I was about to confide these thoughts into Will, I heard footsteps. Heavy footsteps. Footsteps that belonged to a man who was on a mission. “Hello Will,” someone growled in a deep voice. “Thought that charade would work? Your friends were quite willing to let me know where you had gone.” “Wyatt!” my brother cried. “What-“ his voice broke as a bullet pierced his gut. He coughed, then fell against the wall. “Tell the child I loved her,” he ground out with his last breath. “Now,” Wyatt smirked as he re-loaded his gun, “It’s time for the fun.” It was indeed the deputy. And he was about to kill me. ~ Wyatt When I found Will, I was furious. How on earth do you pull off a trick like that? But it didn’t matter. He would pay. Now he was dead, his sister staring at his body with horror- and fright. She knew she was about to die. She knew I couldn’t leave any witnesses. She knew I wouldn’t show mercy. I cocked my gun, inching near, pointing the gun at her forehead. “Goodbye, dear.” ~ Jeb Someone’s screams made me pause. I was in conversation with a washerwoman who was entranced by Ella May. “It sounds like Lina!’ I cried. Whoever has her will regret it. I dashed down the alley, growling at the sight of Lina being cornered by a handsome, gun-weilding man. “Back off!” I ordered as I pulled out my Colt handgun. And then I recognized the man: my coworker and best friend. “Wyatt?” He turned, giving me a mournful look with his deep eyes. “Jeb. I’m sorry.” He turned back to Lina, placing the end of the gun to her forehead with a shaking hand. I knew I only had a minute to choose: save the love of my life, or kill my best friend. I’m going to miss Wyatt. As soon as Wyatt was dead, I stumbled over to Lina, scooping her up protectively. “Lina. Lina, what happened?” She sobbed, looking at both bodies, before turning back to me. She began her story, a story of identities mistaken and lies avenged. I carried her back to the others, to a panicked washerwoman, a confused brother, and one frightened child. But I wouldn’t let her go. I kept her near until George took her back to his home, and even then I was reluctant. I was still worried that someone would try to hurt her. ~ Lina I rolled over and looked out the window, thinking of everything that had transpired over the day. My brother was dead. My niece, orphaned. I also thought of Jeb, him choosing me over his best friend. I could see in his eyes the guilt over killing Wyatt, but the relief of having me alive. I thought of the protective way he stayed by me, which had upset George a bit. No brother likes to see his little sister fall in love. George, turns out, had a wife and a small daughter. A wife who he was arguing with right now, he defending his habit of gambling and she begging him to stop. But I could hear that they were reaching a deal. I glanced at Ella May, her blonde curls spilling onto the pillow, face peaceful in her slumber. She had cried awfully at the sight of her dead father, and had kept weeping throughout the evening. I, too, had cried a bit. But not much. Crying didn’t solve your problems. I prayed, instead, prayed that somehow my brother hadn’t lost his faith, that somehow he was in heaven. Several months later. We’re married, Jeb thought as he grabbed the hand of his new wife, Lina. At last, they were married. He had convinced her to stay in Mustang Canyon, promising that he would care for her and her orphaned niece. And after a few months, she had agreed. As he helped her out of the chapel, Jeb let a grin slip onto his face. Jeb helped his new wife mount his horse, before taking the reins and starting for his home. He had given up his job as sheriff and found something safer: farming. He wanted to live as long as he could, with the love of his life by his side. And when he looked into Lina’s eyes, he realized she shared the same dream: the dream to be together for rich or for poor, in sickness and in health, throughout all their lives, to love and to cherish each other. 1 Secrets in the Canyon, 6-8, page