Gwendolyn"S Choice
Copyright© 2026 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 6
Six weeks after the auction, Ethan needed supplies.
Salt blocks, fencing wire, grain for the horses. Things the ranch couldn’t do without. Which meant a trip to Dry Gulch.
He didn’t ask Gwen if she wanted to come. Just hitched the wagon at dawn and said, “We’re heading to town. You coming?”
She looked at him for a long moment, her face unreadable. Then she climbed onto the wagon seat beside him.
They rode in comfortable silence now—so different from that first tense journey. Gwen sat easy, one hand resting on the seat, watching the landscape roll past. She didn’t look nervous. Didn’t look scared.
But Ethan noticed the way her jaw tightened as the buildings of Dry Gulch came into view.
“You don’t have to come into town,” he said quietly. “You can wait with the wagon if you want.”
Gwen’s eyes flashed. “I ain’t hiding.”
“Didn’t say you were. Just giving you the choice.”
She considered that. Then nodded once. “I’m coming.”
The town looked the same as it had six weeks ago—dusty streets, weathered buildings, people going about their business. But when Ethan’s wagon rolled down Main Street, heads turned.
Whispers started immediately.
“That’s her.”
“The wild girl.”
“Can’t believe he kept her.”
Gwen heard every word. Her shoulders squared. Her chin lifted. But she didn’t shrink. Didn’t hide her face.
She looked them dead in the eye as they passed.
Ethan pulled the wagon up in front of Miller’s General Store and set the brake. “Won’t take long,” he said. “You want to wait here or—”
“I’m coming in,” Gwen said firmly.
Together, they walked into the store.
The bell above the door chimed. Conversation stopped dead.
Three women near the fabric counter stared. Two men by the tool section went silent. Mr. Miller behind the counter looked up, his eyes widening.
“Matthews,” Miller said carefully. “Didn’t expect to see you today.”
“Need supplies,” Ethan said evenly. “Got a list.”
He pulled out a slip of paper and set it on the counter. Miller took it, glanced at Gwen, then back at the list.
“I’ll ... I’ll get this together for you.”
Ethan nodded. “Appreciate it.”
While Miller gathered the supplies, Ethan moved toward the back where the fencing wire was stored. Gwen followed, aware of every eye on her, every whisper that thought it was quiet enough she wouldn’t hear.
“Heard she bit a man last month.”
“He’s keeping her like a pet.”
“Unnatural, if you ask me.”
Gwen’s hands curled into fists, but she kept walking.
Then a voice—loud, deliberate, meant to be heard—cut through the store.
“Matthews!”
Ethan turned. Lyle Hargrove stood near the door, arms crossed, a sneer on his face.
“Hargrove,” Ethan said flatly.
“Surprised to see you still got that wild thing.” Hargrove’s eyes slid to Gwen with open contempt. “Thought she’d have run off by now. Or tried to kill you in your sleep.”
Ethan’s voice stayed calm. “She’s got a name.”
“Does she?” Hargrove stepped closer. “Funny. I don’t recall animals needing names.”
The store went dead silent.
Gwen took one step forward, her voice cold and sharp as a knife. “You want to say that again?”
Hargrove’s sneer widened. “You heard me, girl. You’re nothing but a feral—”
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