I Should Have Known Better

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the dusty streets of Angelou, a small town caught in the crossroads of change and tradition. Michelle Wright leaned against the creaking wooden fence that separated her family’s ranch from the bustling main road. Her hands gripped the rough wood tightly, her knuckles red. She’d been staring at the horizon for what felt like hours, waiting for the stagecoach to arrive.

“Michelle, you’re going to wear a hole in that fence,” her younger brother, Stephen, teased as he approached, a bucket of feed in his hand.

“Just making sure I don’t miss him,” she replied, her voice distant.

Stephen rolled his eyes. “You’ve been talking about this new schoolteacher for weeks. What’s the big deal?”

Michelle turned to face him, her brown eyes sharp. “He’s not just any schoolteacher. Mr. Jackson Magee’s letters made him sound like…” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “Like someone who’s seen the world. Someone who might understand why I want more than this town can offer.”

Stephen shook his head. “You’re dreaming again, Chell. Angelou’s our home. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

Before Michelle could respond, the distant rumble of wheels on dirt drew their attention. The stagecoach appeared, a cloud of dust trailing behind it. Michelle’s heart raced as she watched it pull to a stop in front of the general store. A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out, his tailored suit and polished boots starkly out of place among the locals in their worn work clothes. His hat shielded most of his face, but when he removed it, Michelle’s breath caught. Jackson Magee was younger than she’d imagined, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes that scanned the crowd with an air of curiosity.

“Well, there he is,” Stephen said, smirking. “Go on, then. Say hello.”

Michelle hesitated for a moment, then squared her shoulders and made her way toward the store. As she approached, Jackson turned and met her gaze. He smiled, a warm, disarming expression that made her momentarily forget how to speak.

“Miss Wright, I presume?” he said, extending his hand.

“Yes, but you can call me Michelle,” she replied, shaking his hand. His grip was firm but gentle, and she felt an unexpected flutter in her chest.

“Michelle it is,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Your letters painted quite the picture of Angelou.”

Michelle laughed nervously. “I hope I didn’t oversell it.”

Jackson’s eyes twinkled. “On the contrary, you’ve made me eager to discover all this town has to offer.”

Over the next few weeks, Jackson settled into his role as the town’s schoolteacher. He quickly became a favorite among the children, his lessons filled with stories of far-off places and his unique way of making even arithmetic seem exciting. For Michelle, however, his arrival marked the beginning of something far more complicated.

They spent evenings talking under the stars, their conversations ranging from literature to dreams of the future. Michelle found herself drawn to his intellect, his charm, and the way he listened as if her words truly mattered. Yet, there was an unspoken tension between them, a barrier neither seemed willing to cross.

One crisp autumn evening, as the town gathered for the annual harvest festival, Michelle and Jackson found themselves alone near the bonfire. The warm glow illuminated his face, and Michelle felt her heartache with an intensity she hadn’t expected.

“Jackson, can I ask you something?” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” he replied, turning to face her.

“Why did you come to Angelou? Really?”

Jackson hesitated, the easy smile slipping from his face. “I suppose I was looking for a fresh start. Somewhere quiet, where I could…figure things out.”

Michelle frowned. “Figure what out?”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “It’s complicated.”

The air between them grew heavy, and Michelle’s mind raced with possibilities. Before she could press further, Jackson’s hand brushed against hers. The small gesture sent a jolt through her, and she realized with startling clarity how much she cared for him.

The truth came out two months later, not from Jackson but from a stranger who arrived in town with a stack of wanted posters. Jackson Magee’s face stared back at Michelle from the paper, the name beneath it reading “Reed Daniels.”

Michelle felt as if the ground had been ripped out from under her. She confronted him that night, her voice shaking with anger and betrayal.

“Who are you?” she demanded, holding the poster in front of him.

Jackson—or Reed—sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Michelle, I can explain.”

“Explain? You lied to me, to everyone!”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “I was running from a life I didn’t want. A life that was destroying me. Angelou was my chance to start over, to be someone better.”

Michelle’s eyes filled with tears. “And what about us? Was that a lie too?”

“No,” he said firmly. “What we have is real. But I understand if you can’t forgive me.”

Michelle turned away, her heart breaking. “I should’ve known better,” she whispered.

The days that followed were some of the hardest Michelle had ever endured. The town buzzed with gossip, and Jackson—or Reed—prepared to leave, unwilling to bring more trouble to Angelou. On the morning of his departure, Michelle found herself once again at the fence, watching the horizon.

When he appeared, leading a horse laden with supplies, she stepped forward. “Jackson,” she called, using the name she’d come to love.

He stopped, his expression unreadable. “Michelle.”

She took a deep breath. “If you’re leaving, at least tell me where you’re going.”

He hesitated, then said, “West. Maybe California. Somewhere I can finally be free.”

Michelle nodded, tears streaming down her face. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“And you?” he asked. “What will you do?”

She forced a smile. “I’ll keep dreaming. And maybe one day, I’ll find my own place in the world.”

As he rode away, Michelle felt a strange mix of sorrow and hope. She’d learned a painful lesson about trust, but she’d also discovered her own strength. And as the sun set over Angelou, she vowed that her story was far from over.