The Circle Eight: Nicholas Read Free

Elizabeth, believed in the love they shared. That was why she’d left Houston and headed to the middle of nowhere for the wedding.
    The wide open plains were beautiful but confusing. She couldn’t judge distance as she could in a city. It wasn’t as though she could estimate ten blocks to a building. No, out here, it was miles , or even hours, until they found what they sought. In fact, they had started out before dawn yesterday for the Circle Eight. She hoped they’d been going the right direction or they would be hopelessly lost.
    The heat shimmered on the horizon. A trickle of sweat meandered its way down between her bosom s. She resisted the urge to scratch and focused on squinting into the distance. Between the lazy ribbons of summer, something brown wavered. She leaned forward as though an extra foot of room would make the object clearer.
    “What is that ahead?”
    Bartholomew shook his head. “I can’t rightly tell, Miss Winnie. Might be a barn of sorts. Maybe.”
    Winnie hung on to the hope it was a building and the Circle Eight. She was tired of sitting in the carriage and the endless rolling green hills of Texas. Her bottom was numb and her nerves frayed.
    As they drew closer, the brown smudge took on a distinct shape. A large house with a barn behind it. Her excitement over arriving for the wedding was tempered by the reality of seeing Nicholas Graham again. After flipping once, her stomach flipped again and she tasted the coffee she’d consumed that morning. Perhaps even yesterday’s coffee.
    “There’s lots of folks around and plenty of wagons. I think we found what we’re seeking.” Bartholomew sounded tired, more so than she. He was an old man, not used to driving for two days in a carriage, even one with a top to keep the sun off their heads. Guilt lanced her.
    “We can stay for several days nearby. I , for one, look forward to not being in this vehicle for some time.” Her fervent hope was there was someplace to stay, such as a boardinghouse like her own. She straightened her shoulders and swiped at the dust on her skirt. Arriving just before the wedding was not what she intended, neither was being so filthy, but it couldn’t be helped. After some trouble at the boardinghouse, she hadn’t left Houston until two days after they were scheduled to depart.
    Now they were riding in, caked with dirt, less than an hour before the wedding. She made a face. Vaughn and Elizabeth would not mind but Winnie did. They were her friends and she owed them much. The quilt she’d had made, carefully wrapped in brown paper in the back of the rig, was only a token.
    As they rode up to the sprawling house, she noted the shiny windows and the scent of new wood. The Grahams had rebuilt their house into a solid home for a big family. A very big family. She’d never seen the like in Houston. In a city, everyone built up, not out. This house was nearly as wide as a city block.
    A variety of wagons, curricles and carriages were parked all around behind the house. People stood in groups dressed in fine clothes.
    “Winnie!” Vaughn stood at the corner of the house, waving and smiling. She could almost feel the happiness in the air, emanating from her closest friend. He looked very handsome, as usual, but the joy on his face made him almost glow.
    “There’s Mr. Montgomery.” Bartholomew pulled the carriage to a stop. “I’m powerful glad we found him.” She could almost see the relief in his posture.
    “Please relax and find a quiet place to rest.” She squeezed his gnarled hands. “You are a good friend, Bartholomew.”
    The older man shrugged off her touch. “Now don’t be getting all female on me, Miss Winnie. I’m too old for that kind of nonsense.”
    She smiled and turned to greet Vaughn. His face held a grin brighter than the sun. She accepted his help in descending from the carriage. He bussed her cheek and took her hands.
    “I cannot tell you how glad I am to see a friendly face.” Beneath the