A Courageous Bride to Bring Him Hope: A Historical Western Romance Book Read online

  A Courageous Bride to Bring Him Hope

  A Western Historical Romance

  Cassidy Hanton

  Contents

  A Thank You Gift

  About the book

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Preview: A Blossoming Love in a Time of Peril

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Also by Cassidy Hanton

  About the Author

  A Thank You Gift

  Thanks a lot for purchasing my book. It really means a lot to me, because this is the best way to show me your love.

  As a Thank You gift I have written a full length novel for you called Finding the Broken Cowboy. It’s only available to people who have downloaded one of my books and you can get your free copy by tapping this link here.

  Again, thank you ever so much for your continuous love and support!

  Cassidy Hanton

  About the book

  When home is no longer home, love is their only shelter…

  After losing her husband, Clementine Talley decides to start a new life in Wild Montana.

  As a mere store-clerk, she dreams of becoming a teacher. Despite how hopeful she is, she carries a weight on her back; one she won’t let anyone know about. But when she’s attacked by a crude man, a handsome cowboy comes to her rescue...

  Alexander Carson has too much to hide. As a prior bounty hunter, his life isn’t how he wants it to be. But his decision to settle for a cowboy’s life is the best he’s ever made. The day he saves Clementine, however, is when he comes face to face with fate.

  As love prevails, the past comes back to haunt them.

  When Alexander finds out that familiar shadows are here, he has to revisit the past he has left behind for good. Because his sister’s killer is back and is now after his new family.

  Prologue

  Oxbent, Arizona 1885

  Alexander was exhausted when he finally stepped into the small house he shared with his sister Honey. He had been gone for more than three days, riding across the plains to try and find the cave Colt Debbert and his gang of men were using as a hideout.

  The journey was long and difficult. He’d slept little and had not eating anything but stale bread, but that feeling of elation when he finally trotted toward the cave’s mouth would be worth it, he knew. Or so he thought.

  Because the cave was empty. Empty and with little evidence of the men who were supposed to have inhabited it. Alexander had been forced to ride straight on back home with no victory to speak of. He was tired and angry.

  But at least I’ll get to see Honey.

  His sister was the light of his life. Though it was only the two of them left in the family, it never felt lonely. Honey could light up any room, make anyone laugh. Alexander couldn’t wait to spend the rest of the night talking to her, listening to her sweet voice tell him stories and jokes that would ease his disappointment.

  But when he opened the door, it wasn’t to find Honey sitting in her usual rocking chair with her knitting needles clacking away.

  Instead, she was laid out on the floor, a hole in her stomach, her eyes lifeless and hollow.

  All at once, Alexander’s world fell apart.

  “Honey!” he screamed, collapsing on his knees beside her.

  Gathering her in his arms, Alexander couldn’t help the tears that streamed from his eyes as he looked at his sister’s pale face and felt her cold body in his arms.

  “What happened to you? Who did this to you?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.

  Colt Debbert.

  For years, Alexander had tried to bring Colt’s gang to justice. They were mostly guns for hire, and for them, no job was too risky or dirty. They did it all, robberies, kidnapping, even murder, and since they were a true menace, he focused all his energy on catching them.

  The gang's leader, Colt Debbert, was the worst of the lot, and over time it had become some kind of a sick game for him to torment Alexander. He knew Colt wanted him dead, but he realize that Colt was happy to kill Honey first, to get to him.

  He was too arrogant, he realized that now. He thought he was invincible, and Honey, too.

  But his arrogance and carelessness had cost him his only family. For so long, he’d been too focused on the job, partly because of his pride, and it had cost him dearly; he’d lost the only person he cared about in this world.

  A few days later, he was standing over a Honey’s freshly dug grave.

  “This place was not meant for the weakhearted,” was written on one of the nearby tombstones.

  I can’t agree more.

  “I am so sorry, Honey,” he whispered, falling down to his knees on the newly turned dirt. He wished there was a way to make all the pain go away. It was agonizing. A part of him wondered how he was still alive in spite of it.

  The smell of fresh earth made him want to pull out all his hair and scream to the sky above from the top of his lungs until his throat felt completely raw. This was all his fault.

  “It should have been me inside that wooden box,” he yelled at the heavens. “Not you, Honey.” Not his beloved, little sister.

  His Honey was one of the kindest, purest souls that ever walked in this town, on this Earth. In her short life, she never hurt anybody, always taking care of him, making sure to help other townspeople as much as she could. He wasn’t like that. He was a different kind of animal altogether. So why was he allowed to live after what he did, and why did she have to die?

  “I don’t know how to be without you,” he cried, overcome with grief. “I am so sorry, Honey,” he repeated again and again, yet his words felt hollow, as though they were not enough.

  His apologies would never be enough. They would forever rest on deaf ears, because Honey was gone.

  Alexander felt like punching himself for being so stupid. He’d learned from a big-mouthed associate of Debbert’s that something big was about to occur in the gang. That had sent him on a journey to the cave, where he thought he’d find the gang readying for their next devilish task. He thought he’d be able to stop them.

  But it was all a ruse. They just wanted to lure him out of the house long enough to take sweet Honey from him forever.

  Being close to him, related to him, was what had killed Honey. He was like a plague to all the people that loved him. He felt cursed. And his sister’s death proved that fact. I don’t deserve to love, or to be loved.

  His sister did not deserve this. She was brutally taken from this world before she even got a chance to properly live, love, have a family of her own. It was his fault, so it was up to him to do something about it. What he planned to do woul
dn’t bring his sister back to life, but he hoped it would bring her some peace. Maybe bring some to him as well, if he dared to pray for something like that for himself in the first place.

  “Thank you, Father,” he managed to choke out a few minutes later, after the priest had said the final words that would lay Honey to rest. If she could even rest, knowing what had been done to her. “It was a lovely sermon, and I appreciate all your kind words,” he continued to ramble, not fully knowing why. Perhaps he needed to fill the air between them with words so he wouldn’t start screaming again. Cursing this life for being so hard was also a possibility.

  “She was a lovely girl... Come see me sometime, if you need someone to talk to,” the priest offered, and Alexander nodded in return, fully knowing he would never do such a thing. He had other plans, better ways of healing his pain.

  The priest walked away leaving Alexander with his sister, with his agony.

  “Honey, I failed you once. I am not going to fail you again, I promise,” he vowed.

  He bathed in the hurt, smothered himself with rage until he almost felt like drowning. But it was good. It was giving him the energy he needed to battle Colt. He was now focused on only one thing: revenge. He clenched his fists into the dirt and squeezed it out between his fingers, the strength of his grip feeling good after so much weakness.

  Honey, I will avenge you.

  He would find all the men who did this to his family, who took his little sister from him, and he would make them pay in the most gruesome of ways. He would bring Hell down upon them, and enjoy it.

  In his life, in his career, he’d always tried to be just; he always minded the law, no matter what anybody else thought or did. But not anymore.

  For this case, this evil, he was going to act as both judge and executioner to these vile men. He would become the thing from their nightmares. He wanted them scared; he wanted them to feel everything his sister felt in her last moments.

  It did not matter to him what happened after he managed to kill them all. He had made peace with the fact there was no life for him after that, after he got this revenge. He would quit his job and leave this wretched town for good, never to return. Even if he was victorious, there was no living where he was surrounded with so many memories, good or bad. Perhaps that made him a coward, but he did not care.

  Forming this plan inside his head had empowered him; it gave him the strength to get back up on his feet.

  “I will come to visit you soon, Honey,” he promised, taking one last look t at the grave before walking away.

  Chapter One

  Courtfield, Montana 1888

  While doing the last chores for the day, Clementine Brigitte Jones could hear a horse approaching the house. It was late at night and all sounds were amplified, but she was not afraid.

  That’s what you get when you live in the middle of nowhere.

  The good thing was nobody could surprise her, the bad, there was nothing she could do if someone did arrive unannounced and wanted to harm her.

  Shortly after, the horse made some noise out of protest, and someone she knew all too well jumped from it somewhat awkwardly. She didn’t even have to look through the window to imagine the scene in front of her eyes perfectly.

  Clementine seethed, checking the time. By his standards, he was coming home rather early. That fact did not make her feel better, not at all, because he’d spent two days away from home without sending any word to her.

  Here he comes home, without any regard for me or this household.

  The front door opened and then closed with a loud bang. It was a miracle it still stood on the hinges from all the abuse it had received over the years. Clementine didn’t even bat an eyelash at the state or the manner he was coming to her; she was too accustomed to the whole affair to be surprised or hurt anymore. That, in itself, was tragic.

  Her husband Steve stumbled into the kitchen, completely drunk. He was plain in every way, of average height and build, with dark hair and matching eyes. However, the years of indulging in his many vices had not been kind to his appearance or his health.

  Clementine did not even turn to look at him while she put away the last of the washed glasses. Likewise, she did not greet him in any form. He didn’t deserve anything from her anymore. It was bad enough she was trapped in this life.

  “I’m hungry,” he slurred without greeting her properly. “Make me a plate.”

  She could hear him crashing to the chair and she sighed. Glancing upward, she asked the heavens how it was possible that this was her life. There was no reply, yet she felt better letting that out to the universe. But deep inside knew she would survive all of this. That would take strength and courage, and Clementine knew she had both of them.

  Taking a deep, empowering breath, she decided it would be for the best if she simply did what the he asked, even though she was frustrated beyond measure and deeply unhappy in this form of prison.

  At least, it was a true blessing they did not have children together, she mused, fully knowing how wrong a thought that was. But that did not change her mind. It was hard enough without children.

  They were constantly arguing, and she was fed up with it. She was sick and tired of his constant drinking, gambling, lack of any regard toward her, not to mention lack of affection. He was violent and mean, and Clementine was glad he was not a father, even though it pained her she was not a mother.

  At that point, she was no more than a maid to him. And how did she end up here, married to this man? Thanks to her dear father.

  She could still remember that day, when he announced she was to be married. It was just after her mother's funeral.

  “Come,” her father commanded. “It is time for us to go home.”

  “I do not want to leave her here alone,” she sobbed. She felt as though her place was right there. Her mother never liked to be left alone.

  Living on the remote ranch, with an absent father who worked all day, her mother was everything she had in this world. The prospect of living in it without her dear mother felt too glum.

  “There’s nothing we can do, but pray she found peace,” her father replied gruffly. “The past is the past and now we must think of the future.”

  Clementine could not believe he uttered those words at that moment. Right after they buried his wife.

  How can he be so callous? Did he even love Mother at all?

  She instantly felt guilty for having such thoughts. She knew her father loved her mother.

  “I love you, Mother, farewell. I will be back tomorrow to visit you,” she promised. Reluctantly, she allowed her father to drag her away from the burial site. They were the only two people left at the graveyard.

  A soft rain started to fall, and she thought about how it was quite fitting that it did. There was small comfort in the fact that even the heavens wept for the loss of this kind, lovely woman.

  “We have to think about your future, my dear daughter,” her father said, startling her a little, once they were settled inside their carriage.

  Droplets of rain traveled down her face, staining her dress, yet she did nothing to stop them.

  “Now that your mother is gone, I fear...”

  “Please, Father,” she stopped him, not being able to stand such a conversation at this moment. She needed a moment to just breathe.

  “No,” he insisted. “You have to listen to me.”

  Clementine ignored her father. Unfortunately, that did not derail him.

  “It is time we discuss your marriage.”

  Was it really? She wanted to snap at him, but held her tongue, comprehending this was his own grief speaking.

  “I already have a promising man in mind. He is a well-respected businessman of thirty-five that I met in church. He just moved here from Boston, and he has no wife.”

  She almost asked if the man in question even wanted one.

  “I am sure he will take good care of you,” her father concluded.

  So that man was rich and was
going to church. She was bitter her father thought that was everything she needed to know about a man she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with. “I do not wish to discuss this with you at the moment, father,” she practically snapped.