Chapter Thirty-Two

Sitting across the table from Timothy, hearing him speak about family and his beliefs concerning that topic had Eleanor's heart becoming much more tempted to simply open up and let the man in. He seemed so good. Away from that saloon, the alcohol, the cards, the crowd, and the brothel, she was seeing him in a different light. She had known that Timothy was a happy man with a good-nature and a smile that was infectious. What she hadn't known was the loyalty and simple goodness that the man possessed.

Even with the help the doctor was giving her, Eleanor knew her future was going to be a hard one if she were a single, unwed, former whore attempting to raise a child by herself. Eleanor hadn't thought that there was a man alive who could possibly see past those things and build a future with her but maybe.....?

And when Timothy smiled so warmly and told her that he could give her that acceptance and treatment she desired so badly, Eleanor's heart seemed to roll in her chest—so very tempted to open itself up to the man sitting across from her with such earnestness in his warm green eyes.

Then a flash of movement caught her eye. Eleanor looked up to see Judith Channing striding their way with her nose high and her shoulders tense. Eleanor winced. She had always hated that woman. Eleanor was not a fighter. She had always been one to simply walk away from conflict and hide herself. She was used to the judgments and the harshness—had been experiencing them since the age of fifteen. But Eleanor wanted a new life. A life where she could be something other than what she had been. Judith Channing was not someone who would make that easy.

"How dare you bring such filth into a family establishment! You should be ashamed of yourself, Doctor Reynolds. This whore needs to leave immediately!"

The diner fell silent. Every gaze was turning in their direction as folks were eager to see the drama and have something new to gossip about. Eleanor was about to get to her feet and leave quickly—she did not need the stress a scene would cause. Her health had been struggling since becoming pregnant and she had to protect her child.

Before she could get to her feet however, Timothy had leapt to his and whirled around to face the small, skinny, woman with judgment in her eyes and hatred in her heart. "You'll watch your mouth when you're speaking about Eleanor, Mrs. Channing. We were enjoying our supper, why don't you just go get to yours?"

She scoffed and looked him up and down. "I'll do no such thing. That is a whore, Timothy O'Neil, and as such she has no place dining here with good Christian families. Not that I'd count you among them. Your fondness for poker, drinking, whores, and Zachary Marston damned your soul a long time ago."

Eleanor wanted to leap to Timothy's defense but Doctor Reynold's laid his hand on her arm. "You need to stay calm," he whispered firmly for only her to hear. "Your health hasn't been well lately, and you could make it worse if you get too worked up."

"But that woman..."

"And women like her will always be around," Doctor Reynold's assured her. "You will always face judgement whether it's deserved or not. And so will he if he chooses to build a life with you. Let's see how Timothy handles this."

Eleanor could tell the doctor that he was insane to think that she was thinking of building a life with Timothy. She wasn't. Was she? Who was she kidding? He was a good, kind, loyal, and caring man. Any woman would be lucky to have him at her side. But Eleanor didn't want him to suffer to be with her—she wasn't worth that. Surely, he would realize it and walk away.

"Now, I ain't no expert on the bible, ma'am, and I'll be the first to admit that," Timothy replied, his voice calm but his posture tense as he stood toe to toe with the preacher's wife. "But I reckon Jesus dined with thieves, and whores, and gamblers. I don't reckon he ever stood in judgment and deemed them unworthy of his time. Since it was the good doctor here that invited Eleanor and I to eat with him, I'd say he's a bit closer to Jesus than you are, so I won't take your word to mean much."

Eleanor nearly burst out in laughter at the rage and indignation that contorted Judith's face. The woman snorted, she stomped her foot, she opened her mouth several times looking like a fish out of water as she searched for something to say. Finally, she stuck her finger under his nose. "That woman has no right being here. She needs to leave. You can pay her a bit of coin and have your fun with her somewhere else—not where good families are attempting to eat their meals."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Timothy demanded, his voice rising a bit. "You are the most judgmental, hypocritical, bitch of a woman I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. No one likes you, Judith. No one. They only tolerate you because they respect your husband as their preacher. You are a gossip and a liar and there is not a soul alive that trusts you enough to ever be your friend. You spout your lies about Zachary and his family. You run your mouth about Samantha. And now you're gonna stand here and think you can spout hatred about Eleanor? I might go to hell one day, Judith, for being a gambler and laying with women I shouldn't have, but I can promise you that you'll get there before me and your seat will be hotter."

A pin could have been heard dropping in the diner. Eleanor noticed the owner, a middle-aged woman named Cathy, heading in their direction. She got to her feet but before she could urge Timothy to leave with her, Judith raised her hand and swung, catching Timothy sharply across the face.

"Hey now! There's no need to be putting hands on folks," Doctor Reynolds got to his feet. "Judith, I believe you need to leave."

"I've never in my life hit a woman, ma'am, and I won't start now," Timothy stated, her handprint bright red upon his cheek. "But I might just hit a harpy and that's what you're starting to resemble."

Eleanor came around the table just as Cathy reached them. "I'm going to have to ask all of you to leave, even you Judith," Cathy ordered. "You've caused a horrible stir and folks are trying to eat."

Timothy snorted. "We didn't cause anything. We were dining peacefully and having a good time until she came in here spouting her mouth off."

"Timothy, that's enough," Eleanor snapped and this had him falling silent and turning his gaze to her. She saw that handprint on his jaw and touched her fingertips to it gingerly. He'd taken that slap to defend her. Timothy's eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared, and his tongue slid across his bottom lip as he gazed down at her. Eleanor knew lust when she saw it, but this seemed like something deeper—something more. Or was she simply seeing what she hoped to see when he looked at her?

"Eleanor is right, Tim," Doctor Reynolds insisted. "It's time to leave."

Eleanor was surprised when Timothy wrapped his arm around her shoulders as if shielding her from the eyes and the whispers as he led her out of the diner. Once on the street, she didn't pull away—and neither did he.

Doctor Reynold's sighed as he smoothed his hand over his mustache. "I apologize, Eleanor. I knew you would probably face judgement but had hoped that it wouldn't get hostile."

"And it wouldn't have if loud-mouth Channing had stayed away," Timothy grumbled loudly enough that Judith clearly heard him as she stormed down the street in the direction of the church. Timothy placed his hat on his head as he removed his arm from her shoulders and stepped back. "I apologize, Eleanor. I lost my temper in there and shouldn't have. I was enjoying speaking with you."

Eleanor wasn't certain how romantic conversation took place between two people. Sexual flirtation she knew by heart but not romance. "I was enjoying it too," she assured him. "And I'm sorry you got slapped over me."

Timothy chuckled, the sound warming her heart. "I got slapped because I never did know when to shut up. It always earned me extra punches from my step-father too. Got me extra whippings at school. My mouth gets me in trouble sometimes." Then his expression sobered. "I am sorry. I don't usually have much of a temper to speak of, but I won't let anyone I care about be mistreated either."

"You care about me?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she barely kept hand from smacking against her brow.

Timothy nodded. His throat worked as he swallowed hard and studied her face as if searching for something. "I do. I'm hoping maybe you'd like to spend some more time together? We could eat supper together tomorrow. We could take out a couple of horses and a picnic supper and spend some time getting to know one another away from the town gossip."

Eleanor should say no—but she couldn't. She wanted a future that included some shred of happiness and some instinct within her was telling her that Timothy could give that to her. And while they spent time alone she would tell him the truth about her pregnancy and give him the opportunity to walk away. Part of her hoped and prayed he wouldn't choose to leave but another part knew that she could not blame him if he did. Timothy would face constant judgment just for being with her—it wouldn't be fair to expect him to raise another mans' child as well.

"I think I'd like that very much."

The smile that split his boyish face, lit up his green eyes and had Eleanor's pulse racing. He seemed to want to kiss her but instead cleared his throat and took a step back. "You have a good evening, Eleanor. Don't let what happened in there bother you. Judith always needs a target for her hate and, unfortunately, she's setting her sights on you. She'll find a new one eventually and things will settle down."

He turned his gaze to Doctor Reynolds. "I'll see you around, doc. Thanks for letting me eat dinner with you."

"No, thank you for eating with us, Timothy. It was nice to see Judith Channing turn so many shades of red."

Timothy was chuckling as he threw one more awkward wave in Eleanor's direction, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked away whistling quietly.

"Looks like your future is looking up, Eleanor," Doctor Reynold's stated as they slowly made their way down the road.

"He doesn't know I'm carrying a child, doc. Surely that will change his mind."

Doctor Reynold's snorted. "Did you not hear the man say he would willingly give a child a family? Without question, I believe is what he said."

Eleanor rolled her eyes even as her heart fluttered. "Yes, well, saying that and actually doing that are two different things. I will tell him tomorrow while we're out together and we'll see."

A sigh left the older man. "Whether you believe it or not, Eleanor, you deserve happiness. You deserve a good man to love you and a baby you can both love and a home and all the things you ever let yourself imagine as a child."

Eleanor felt the emotion clogging her throat and the tears welling up behind her eyes. Crying had always been something she hated. She despised feeling sorry for herself or wasting time on tears since neither had ever helped her survive. But it seemed lately all she could do was cry and dwell on her situation.

The doc wrapped a warm, fatherly arm around her shoulders and began to lead her toward his home. Footsteps suddenly sounded behind them and they turned to see an angry man approaching them. A man Eleanor recognized from the brothel—he'd been one of her regulars.

He was a tall, thin man with a heavy mustache and a surly disposition. "Doctor Reynolds, I'd like to speak with you."

Doctor Reynolds sighed. "The lady and I are rather tired, Greg, and heading in for the night. Can we talk another time?"

"No." Greg crossed his arms over his narrow chest and glared at Eleanor before turning his gaze once again to the doc. "How dare you bring that whore into the diner. Do you have any idea how awkward that was for me? I was sitting there with my wife and son and you bring this woman in there?"

"You didn't have a problem with me a week ago," Eleanor spoke up quietly. She normally kept her mouth shut—knew that being quiet was the best option. And yet she was tired and she was raw and she simply wanted to be left alone—and those things had her lips loosening.

Greg's face reddened. "Doc, you should not have brought her in there. It made for a tense meal with my family. My wife has insisted that she is staying the night at her mothers."

Doctor Reynold's laid his hands over his middle and shrugged. "Your inability to honor the vows you shared with your wife are none of my concern. And they are not Eleanor's concern either. That is between you and Catherine, bless her heart."

Greg stepped forward with his fists clenched, though he wasn't directing his anger at the doctor any longer—his focus had moved to Eleanor. He stood so close to her that she could feal the heat of his breath and when he began to yell his spittle hit against her skin. "You are nothing but a whore and you belong in that brothel! How dare you have the audacity to think you deserve to sit around good women like my wife!"

Eleanor's legs shook but she stood her ground. "I no longer work in that brothel."

"You are a whore! Whores don't have a right to be seen in public. Take your ass back where it belongs!"

Before Eleanor or the doctor could respond, a body came slamming into Greg, throwing the other man threw the air. The bodies came down together in the dirt, and in the glow of the lantern lights, Eleanor recognized Timothy as he straddled Greg and threw wild punches at the man's face. "You'll shut your goddamn mouth!" Timothy roared.

Greg managed to block a punch and send one of his own into Timothy's jaw, knocking Timothy off him and throwing him sideways. The two men became a tangle of fists and feet, rolling around in the dirt and beating each other senseless.

Eleanor kept calling Timothy's name, begging him to stop, but it was clear he was beyond reasoning. Cries rang out around them as other folks going about their evenings noticed the wrestling match taking place.

"That's enough!" Marshall Leonard Oxley's voice called out above all else. The pot-bellied man came jogging over, holding his revolver in one hand as he adjusted his eye patch. "Break it up you two!" he ordered, cocking his gun.

Timothy and Greg instantly came apart. Tim was quick to get back to his feet and Eleanor felt her gut twist. His face was welted, his lip was split, and from the look of the swelling around his eye, it would probably be turning a nice shade of black soon. He was panting and angry and his fists were still clenched at his side, emphasizing his bloody knuckles.

A quick glance at Greg revealed he was in worse shape. One of his front teeth was missing, blood was pouring from his nose, and he was staggering a bit as he attempted to stand. Timothy pulled a bandana from his pocket and tossed it at the man. "Clean yourself up. You got some bullshit on your face."

"You need to arrest that man, Marshall," Greg announced, his voice muffled as he held that bandana over his face to stem the flow of blood. "He attacked me for no good reason."

"No good reason? I heard the way you were talking to the lady," Timothy countered.

Marshal Oxley sighed. "What's gotten into you, Timothy? I already heard about the way you spoke to poor Judith and now this? You've never been a man to let his temper get the better of him. Come on. You can cool your heels in a cell tonight."

"But Marshall...." Eleanor stepped forward.

Timothy shook his head. "It's alright, ma'am."

"Timothy..." she gingery touched his swollen bottom lip. "It's not alright. I'm not worth this..."

Timothy's gaze softened. He caught her wrist in his hand gently, held her hand still and pressed a tender kiss to her fingertips. "We'll just agree to disagree on that." His gaze left hers as he released his hold on her. Timothy turned to face the Marshall. "Let's go then, Leonard. I'm surprised you're sober enough at this time of night to remember where jail is. Is it still as nice as I remember? I haven't been there in a while. I think the last time was when that brawl broke out in the saloon and I broke a chair with my head." He chuckled. "Fun times."

Eleanor watched the Marshall leading him away as she attempted to understand what she was feeling. The heat from that kiss he had laid to her fingers had sent a trembling awareness through every inch of her. Never had Eleanor felt anything that compared.

What was it about Timothy O'Neil that rendered her unable to think clearly? The man was clearly insane. Why else would he curse out preacher's wives, brawl men in the street, and get himself thrown in jail just to defend a whore?

'I reckon I can do that, ma'am.' Eleanor heard his words from inside the diner replay themselves in her mind. When she had told him what she wanted—to be treated as something other than a whore—that had been his response. Timothy O'Neil saw her as a woman and not a whore. If he could look past her profession and deem her worthy of his affection, maybe it was time that Eleanor do the same for herself.

She let out a sigh. That man.

The crowd around them had dissipated once the Marshall led Timothy away. Greg had stumbled down the road toward The Hackney Saloon and Brothel—he certainly did seem upset that his wife had left him.

"Doc, go on home. I'll be there shortly. I'm going to go speak to Timothy."

He seemed uncertain. "You should probably just come home...."

"I wasn't asking permission," she assured him. "I want to speak with Timothy and I'll be home right after." Without giving him time to argue further, Eleanor turned and headed for the jail. She walked right in, finding the office empty. She opened a door that led down a short hall with cells on either side. There were two large cells in the Hackney jail and several cots filled each of them. One of the cells contained a man who was clearly passed out drunk if his scent was any indication—the other contained Timothy.

Marshall Oxley was just locking the cell door and turned to frown at her. "You aren't allowed back here."

"I want to speak with Timothy."

"I can't be making exceptions to rules," Marshall Oxley countered. "You need to leave."

"Go on, Eleanor. I'll be alright," Timothy insisted.

Eleanor squared her shoulders. "Marshall, this is ridiculous. Let the man go. He was only defending my honor."

"What honor?" Marshal Oxley snorted. "Whores have no honor. Hell, I've paid my fifty cents to have you myself more than once."

Eleanor bristled at the insult but did not let her hurt or anger show on her face. Timothy, however, slammed his hand against the bars. "Why don't you let me out of this damn cell and repeat yourself, Marshall."

"Timothy, enough," Eleanor warned. "Marshal, I understand that he used his fists when he shouldn't have but surely you can understand the situation. Please? Let him go."

Eleanor laid her hand on the metal bars of Timothy's cell, surprised when Timothy's hand suddenly rested over hers. The warmth of his calloused fingers soaking into her soul. Her eyes met his and she swallowed hard. The way he was looking at her... Eleanor had never in her life allowed herself to believe a man would ever look at her that way.

Marshall Oxley cleared his throat. He stepped close, his pot-belly bumping against her hip. His hot breath washed over her cheek as he ran his fingertips down her arm, causing her to shiver. "I can think of one way I might be convinced to let him out....."

Eleanor was about to tell him to go to hell, but before she could, Timothy removed his hand from hers and reached through the bars. He grabbed Leonard by the front of his shirt and yanked him as hard as he could into the bars. The sound of the Marshall's head thumping against that cold iron resonated inside the tiny jail. It was as if his legs simply disappeared from beneath him as he slumped to the floor in an unconscious heap.

"I reckon I'll just staying here tonight," Timothy stated, his busted lips curving in a smile.

A small laugh left her mouth before Eleanor could stop herself. "You're making things worse, Tim. What's gotten into you tonight?"

He shrugged. "Zach's a bad influence." She rolled her eyes. "Speaking of Zachary, he's coming to town in the morning so if you could send him this way to bail me out of here, I'd appreciate it."

Eleanor nodded, "Of course I will. Of course now that you've assaulted an officer of the law, I'm sure it'll be a bit harder."

"Leonard will do whatever Zachary wants him to do. Zach has a way of talking folks into things."

Eleanor sighed. "I'm sorry about all of this, Timothy, but you have to understand something."

He leaned against the bars and those green eyes studied her carefully. "What's that?"

"People like Judith, and Greg, and the Marshall will always be judging me. They will always have things to say and hate to throw out. I have faced that my entire life and I am fairly good, most of the time, at letting it roll off my back and ignoring it. You have to learn to do the same, Timothy." Eleanor dropped her gaze to her feet as her face reddened. "I mean, that is, if you are serious about wanting to spend more time with me..."

His fingertips were suddenly dancing across her cheek before his knuckle came under her chin and raised her head, so her gaze met his again. "I've spent most of my life not being serious about anything, Eleanor. I'm serious about this. About you. I'll do better with my temper." He made a big show of crossing his fingers. "Honest."

"You are....unexpected," Eleanor whispered slowly. "My hero."

His laughter filled the jail. "Hero? I've never been a hero before, ma'am. Seems like a rough way to go. All it's earned me is a swollen jaw, busted knuckles, and a night on a hard cot."

Eleanor swallowed hard. She had to open herself up to Timothy. Had to trust him. Had to take a chance that he could be her future and her happily ever after. Surely she deserved one. Didn't she? "I think it's earned you a bit more than that."

That happiness in Timothy's eyes was infectious as he gazed down at her. "Is that right?"

She motioned him closer and he put his face against the bars. Eleanor gently took his chin in her hand and turned his face so she could press a soft kiss to his freshly shaven cheek. Her hands were shaking as she pulled away and took a step back.

She didn't miss the way Timothy's throat bobbed before he cleared it roughly and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I think I just found my new middle name. Timothy 'Hero' O'Neil." He winked. "It has a nice ring to it."

Eleanor offered a shaky smile. "I'll see you in the morning, Timothy. Thank you for defending me."

"I'll defend you anytime, ma'am."

Eleanor turned and left the jail feeling jumbling emotions warring in her heart and mind. Hope, fear, doubt, the beginnings of what could be love.... Damn, she was terrified. Tomorrow, she was going to be having a very difficult conversation with the man—a conversation that could cause her to lose him, and the future she'd begun to imagine, forever.

Tonight was certainly going to be a sleepless one. 

A/N: Timothy 'Hero' O'Neil wears his busted lips and black eye proudly!  And he said all the things to Judith that we've all wanted to say! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading!