Contest Entries

The Problem | The Letter • Aim to Engage 2019

I closed the letter and tried to breathe evenly. After five years—five years!—he thought he could waltz back into my life and ask me to join him? To think, he had the audacity to claim he loved me still! And not even an offer of marriage? Because he had a problem. A problem, whatever that was. If he were here, I would have smacked him.

Lives depend on it. What in the world could that mean? Yet, if lives depended on it, how could I refuse?

Logic took over while my emotions reared their ugly heads. Jacob was not one to lie. I knew he had sent the letter; the handwriting was unmistakable. But to ask me to go West? Alone? Surely he would never ask me that.

I never thought I'd hear from him again.

Jacob Thomas. He'd exited my life all those years ago, off to chase some wild dream in the territories, a place not proper for a lady such as myself, my now late father decided. He forbade me to go.

Jacob would not be persuaded to stay, and so we parted ways. I looked back on it now and wondered if I truly loved him. Indeed, I had once believed him to be the love of my life. I had shed many tears upon his leaving, had even contemplated running away with him. But instead I stood there, watching his broad back get smaller and smaller as he walked away, my dreams seeming to fade with him.

I still thought of him fondly from time to time, my gaze lingering on the photo he had given me before he left.

I could not stop the thoughts racing through my mind. Lives depend on it.

My eyes slid to the ticket in my hand. Finally, I pushed to my feet and crossed the room, flinging open my trunk.

I was going West.

• • •

When I arrived, still whirling from my mother's hysteria—and wondering if I had lost my mind—I was greeted by the sheriff. "Mr. Thomas sent me," he said simply.

My heart nearly stopped when he led me inside the jail.

"Hello, Madeline." Jacob peered at me from behind bars. I could see he had lost none of his charm. "The years have been kind to you, I see."

"What's this about, Jacob?" I whispered.

"You see, I've gotten in with the wrong crowd these past years without you to keep me in line... Now I'm about to be hanged."

I stared. Hanged?

Lives depend on it. I now knew what he was talking about.

He continued, "Since I have no heir, I want you to marry me and inherit my homestead."

I struggled for words. A gruesome picture came to mind, one of a body swinging three feet off the ground. "Jacob—"

He flashed me a self-assured smile. The man was about to die, and he was grinning like he had just struck gold.

"So, Maddy. What do you say?"