Hill Country Christmas. Laurie Kingery
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what all of Llano Crossing thinks, and I prefer it that way,” the older woman said, visibly gathering her dignity around her like a cloak. “I came to town believing I had eluded him, but he followed me and went to work for that rancher, Dixon Miller. Usually he leaves me alone—except when he has no money left for whiskey.”
“But you’ve left him…” Delia stared at Jude, feeling out of her depth.
“He won’t let me go. And I haven’t the means to flee farther.”
“I’ll go get the sheriff,” Jude said, rising. “He’ll put him in jail for assaulting you.”
“Sheriff Jenkins is one of Dixon Miller’s cronies,” Miss Susan told him wearily. “He’s the wealthiest rancher in these parts.”
“Then you must come and live with me,” Delia said, surprising herself. “He won’t bother you there.”
Miss Susan shook her head. “If I don’t leave things as they are, he’d force me to come back to him. He’d tell everyone he was my lawful husband and I abandoned him, and then who will come to my shop?”
“But if the truth was known—” Delia began.
Miss Susan raised a hand. “Leave things as they are. It’ll be all right…though I thank you both for your kindness.” She lifted her head then, her eyes pleading with them to understand her need to hang on to what pride she had left.
Delia was silent for a moment, terribly saddened by what she had just heard. “All right, Miss Susan,” she said, gathering up her reticule, “but I want you to know you must come to me if anything else happens and you change your mind.”
She didn’t leave until the seamstress nodded.
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