A Deal with the Cowboy’s Tangled Heart: A Historical Western Romance Book Read online

  As he remembered the shouts, Chester decided he would leave. He would start walking and keep moving. It was too late in the evening to start now. Tomorrow night, then. That would give him a head start. Once everyone had quieted down, once his brother had fallen fast asleep, he would grab his horse and start moving.

  He wouldn’t take anything that wasn’t his. Even his loot would be left behind. Just his canteen, clothes, and horse. A hundred dollars from his savings wouldn’t get him far, but at least it would get him out of there.

  The following day, he was more nervous than he had been in a long time.

  Chester rose before dawn. It felt like he had ants in his pants as he hurried about and tried not to act suspicious. He took care of the animals, milking the cows and feeding the horses.

  “Chester, are you coming to town with us today?” Elijah asked him when everyone gathered around to eat.

  Glancing up from over his bowl, Chester shrugged. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

  “Everyone else is going,” Elijah pointed out with narrowed eyes. The man looked like a hawk turned human with his beady eyes and long nose. He was always watching everyone and everything. He leaned back and studied Chester carefully.

  Chester tried not to squirm in his seat. If anyone suspected him of anything, then he could get in a lot of trouble. There used to be eight of them. No one talked about what happened to Wiley.

  “Not feeling well,” he choked out. Chester kept his head down. “Thought I’d just stay around here.”

  The twins snickered. “Didn’t take well to yesterday’s fun?” one of them taunted. He thought it might be Mike. Or it could be Ryan. Chester still couldn’t tell either one of them apart. The twins had only been with them for the last year. They looked alike, spoke alike, and acted alike. Sometimes he felt fairly certain they were just one person who he looked at cross-eyed.

  “He’s just a young cub,” Elijah chuckled darkly. “He’ll get used to it. Maybe next time we’ll give him the honors.”

  Chester jerked his head up. “What?”

  To his surprise, his older brother spoke up for him. “If he says he’s not feeling well, then he’s not feeling well. It’s not like we need him in town.” Elijah glanced over at him and gave him a short nod.

  Usually his support brought Chester relief. But today, he began to feel really ill. He had never lied to anyone before. Not Elijah, and definitely not his brother Lowry.

  The realization of what he had just done sank into his stomach. There was that familiar scent of iron in the air and he pushed his bowl away, not hungry anymore. “Right. You don’t need me.”

  Three-Eyed Tom grabbed his bowl and started eating. He was always hungry. “Fine. Do what you want. Keeps me from having to baby-sit you.”

  “As if anyone would ever let you baby-sit them,” Lowry taunted. “You and your weird eyes. You can’t see anything straight, Tom. Besides, you’re the one who almost ruined us yesterday when you tripped over the twins!”

  That started a squabble. Lowry was always looking for a fight and Three-Eyed Tom was the easiest one to taunt because of his crossed eyes and his defensive nature. Chester backed up but Elijah calmed everyone down before it turned into a wrestling match.

  Though there were sullen mutterings, eventually everyone finished eating and headed off to get ready for their trip into town.

  Chester stayed behind to collect the bowls.

  “Hey.” His brother Lowry came up to him. Chester jumped in surprise and rubbed his hands together. “What is going on with you?” He crossed his arms expectantly.

  “Nothing,” Chester ducked his head so he wouldn’t have to look his brother in the eye. “Honest. I don’t feel good. Besides, last time you said maybe someone should stay behind to watch our hideout.”

  He could feel his brother’s gaze on him as he rolled up his sleeves and started to dunk the dirty bowls. It was a slow process, but he didn’t mind. He liked it more than scaring people. Or getting them killed. Anything was better than that.

  Chester could still remember those cries. They had both fallen. Only one would get back up. He hadn’t stayed to watch. None of them had. The gang had left those two, a mother and a daughter, in the alley.

  “Chester?”

  “Huh?”

  Lowry elbowed him. “You’re thinking about them, aren’t you?”

  Chester hesitated as he glanced at the suds and then up at his brother who was leaning against the table. “Them?” he repeated carefully, his heart hammering.

  Maybe he felt the same way, sick to his stomach over what had happened in that town.

  “The others,” Lowry raised his eyebrow. “Nancy, Anne, and Timmy. But I told you they’re fine. Nancy’s letter last month said they’re all fine.”

  Chester blinked. Right. Lowry wasn’t talking about the women. He should have known.

  Slowly he relaxed at the sound of their siblings’ names. All five of them had been left on their own in Oklahoma nearly six years ago. Once their parents had died, three of them had decided to stay behind. But he had run off with Lowry and the gang when they decided to leave for a better place.

  It had been five years since they had seen them. He wondered if they were happy. “Right. Yeah, them. I was thinking about… them.”

  He should have been thinking about them. It had been too long since he and Lowry had sent the others money. They kept meaning to, but never got around to it.

  Lowry patted him on the shoulder. “They’re fine. I’m sure of it. I read you their last letter and they said they were happy. Hey, maybe next year we’ll go and visit them. That sounds nice, right?”

  “Right,” Chester echoed softly. “Next year.”

  His brother grinned and then headed out of the room.

  It was a pleasant notion, but he’d been saying the same thing for the last couple of years.

  Chester turned back to the soapy bucket and tried to remember them a little better. Nancy was the eldest, and then Anne was right between Lowry and him. Timmy was the youngest, only a little tyke when their parents died.

  There was the letter that Lowry had read to him, but he hadn’t read it himself. Chester wished again that he could read. His parents had told him school was a waste. Besides, there was too much work in his father’s blacksmith’s forge for him to do anything else. Those were days filled with carrying coal everywhere and terrible beatings.

  There were plenty of scars on his body to remember that.

  Chester gritted his teeth. He wished there were better memories than blood and scars in his past. He listened to the gang as they packed up and prepared their horses to head into town.

  Often, they met up in Davidshill, where travelers passed through from Mexico, nearby forts, and other places to trade goods. Nobody cared, in that lawless town, where anything came from. So long as they could use it, then it was worth something.

  The gang was long out of sight by the time he finished his dishes. He had to move fast since there was no way to know how long the gang would be gone. Chester hurriedly got to work.

  His heart thudded loudly. He packed his things up in his saddle bags. Then everything for his horse was set just inside the stall so it would be easy for him to get out.

  Though he hoped being prepared would ease his discomfort, he only grew more uneasy. Chester couldn’t be still.

  The men returned for supper where one of them had traded for fresh salmon that they cooked over the fire. It smelled much better than the iron he couldn’t get out of his nose. But he wasn’t hungry.

  Chester stared at the food. He wasn’t sure any of that was worth the life they had taken. They laughed and ate like nothing ever happened. He swallowed the nausea and moved his food around on his plate.

  “Are you really all right?” Lowry asked him that evening as they settled down in their bedrolls.

  He thought about telling his brother. They had never had secrets before. They had never been apart. He debated on his options. Lowry had done
so much for him.

  But that poor woman. Her vacant eyes haunted him.

  “Fine,” Chester forced himself to say out loud in the dark. Lowry was the one who had made the promise to Elijah about staying forever. Ride or die, he had said.

  Chester tried to swallow the lump in his throat. They couldn’t stay together anymore. Realizing this might be the last time they ever spoke, he tried to think of something he could say to Lowry. Some way to say goodbye. “I’m sure things will be better soon for us.”

  His brother chuckled. “Better? They couldn’t be better now. We’ve never been better. Get some rest, Chester.”

  “Right. Good night,” Chester murmured. He stared into the darkness as he laid there. He didn’t think he would ever sleep well again.

  As Lowry started to doze, Chester tried to memorize his brother’s snoring. It had helped him to sleep as a young child and had always brought him comfort.

  Yet once Lowry’s snoring had fallen into a deep rhythm, Chester found himself climbing onto his feet and rolling up his blanket. He had walked through his plan over and over, so he hardly had to think about it.

  His horse moved quietly as they stepped out of the barn. Quiet was of the utmost importance. He hardly breathed. He walked them a half mile off the property before climbing up into the saddle.

  And then they started riding.

  I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m doing. But I can’t be one of those men. Becoming a murderer is not something I signed up to be. In the last five years, we’ve never done such a thing. I can’t be one of them. No matter what I wanted yesterday or before that, it doesn’t matter. I just know I can’t stay here. I can’t be around men who take a life and act like it’s nothing.

  They had become his new family, taking care of him as his family fell apart and bringing him into the fold with Lowry as they searched for purpose in their rough lives. Except he didn’t want a life like that anymore. He didn’t want to cross those lines.

  So, he left, riding until the dawn broke. A town appeared on the horizon. It looked familiar as he brought his horse to the edges.

  Sitting on his horse at the outskirts, he realized it was the place where the shooting had occurred. He could still remember the shouting. That bitter taste in his mouth. Bile rose in his throat.

  He found himself wondering about the town and how much they knew. Though he wanted to push on, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Something about the town made him stay. As the sun rose behind it, the buildings looked so innocent and calm. It was filled with hope.

  He could really use some hope in his life right now.

  Chester didn’t know why he did it. But he moved his horse along and then found it.

  An old house sat on the far edge of town untouched and unkempt. It was covered in dust and falling apart. He walked his horse up to it and checked out the property, curious and wary. No one called at him to leave. Chester stayed there, hidden away for a week with his horse and his food.

  No one came for him. Eventually he stepped outside, worried that he was being followed by the gang. But no one was there.

  Except for an elderly couple in the nearby property who waved to him, eager to greet their new neighbor. The couple, Arthur and Betty Bretts, showed him kindness that he had never known before.

  He meant to move on, but couldn’t help himself.

  Chester found himself staying at the rundown property just for the couple. The days passed and he realized he didn’t have to keep moving. I could have a home. My own place.

  Though the rest of the town avoided him, there was something peaceful about the area. He could live quietly and without injury. It was such a miracle that he couldn’t dream of going anywhere else.

  Soon five years had passed before he knew it. Five years of peace and contentment, without anyone bothering him or getting hurt.

  Chapter Two

  1880: Blossom’s Errands

  “You’ll be home before sundown?”

  Blossom glanced over her shoulder to give her father a nod. “Of course. Have I ever disobeyed you?”

  The man harrumphed as he set his hands on his hips. His glasses slid to the end of his nose, showing his stern expression. “You know I don’t like you going off on your own.”

  She knew he meant well. Her heart warmed and she hurried over. Blossom gave him a kiss on the cheek so the frown would fade away. “I know,” she agreed with him kindly. “I know how concerned you get over me, and I appreciate it. But you’re the one who gave me a horse. It’s only fair that I take the time to exercise her. And this way, I can get some fresh air as well.” She paused before giving him a playful look. “I could always go to the neighbors and ask to borrow one of their horses if you care to join me?”

  “Of course not,” her father made a face before ruffling her hair. “Do be careful with that beast.”

  Giggling, she fixed her hair. “All right. Don’t cause any trouble while I’m away. And remember to stir the porridge, Father. It should be ready by the time I return.”

  She waved and then headed down the lane to where Merryweather was waiting for her. The young horse was hardly two years old and more than eager to go galloping. He flipped his tail in a welcome greeting as she hurried over.

  “Hello to you, too, my charming boy,” Blossom scratched his long nose sweetly before slipping through the logs of the fence. “Have you seen Davey?”

  Before the horse could answer, though he most likely wouldn’t, there was a loud quack from the road. Blossom turned to see her five-year-old duck, Davey, waddling up from the pond.

  The noisy little creature ruffled his feathers as though to show his irritation for being ignored all morning.

  She beckoned her duck over and then secured Davey on top of the saddle bags. Merryweather shifted but said nothing. Her pets didn’t always get along, but they did when she was around.

  After climbing onto Merryweather, she waved to her father who stood in the doorway of their little home. He was getting older every day, she thought to herself. He always did that when they parted. As though he were afraid it would be the last time he saw her there.

  Blossom nudged her horse forward and they headed off into the fields. Her mind turned to her parents.

  She missed her mother every day and knew how much it hurt her father. Though he claimed she looked much like her mother, Blossom still didn’t see it. That can’t be true. Mother was tall and graceful and beautiful. I’m much too gangly and awkward and loud.

  But time had eased the pain for her and her father. They appreciated that they still had each other, and remembered her mother fondly. To lend them comfort, Blossom always set out an extra plate for her mother at mealtimes.

  It had first happened by accident just after the horrible attack, but neither of them had caught it until the end of the meal.

  She had scrambled up to put it away in embarrassment, but her father said no. It made him feel like she was still with them, he had told her. So she always made sure to set her mother a place.

  There were memories of her mother everywhere she looked. Blossom remembered how her mother had once told her about the rainbows in the sky. They were meant to show joy after the storm, hope after hard times. Good things could still come after bad moments.

  As Blossom let her long hair stream out in the wind, she nudged Merryweather to a gallop and sucked in a deep breath. Her heart felt full.

  She let Merryweather take the lead, loosening her grip on the reins. The horse led them along the river and then back toward town.

  Texas was as beautiful as it had ever been. Out in the wild it was dry, with cactus and rolling hills that ran on for miles. There was every color of green possible. Far off there were mountains that she explored only in her dreams. Closer were valleys for the cattle herds, dipping low among the trees. There was a thin line where the sky met the ground.

  They headed closer toward town where the beautiful world began to grow busier. Sticking to the road, she waved
to the farms that they passed by.

  Although there were over five hundred folks in Livingsfield, Blossom felt fairly confident she knew most of them. Her father taught the children and she was always taking odd jobs to help others out.

  As she passed the familiar old sideways cactus everyone used as a local landmark, she came upon the Millers farm where they were always trying to grow some new plant or vegetable. Their son traveled the world and was always sending them seeds for something strange.

  Then there were two ranches, the Four Hills Ranch and the Tender T Ranch. She didn’t know most of those folks. The two of them were always squabbling over cattle numbers and fence lines, so her father usually asked her to keep her distance. They were all people who had come to town in the last couple of years, too, so she hadn’t grown up with them.