A Love Defying The Odds (Historical Western Romance)

by Cassidy Hanton

  Leading Lucy by the hand, Matthew positioned himself between her and the two men as he scurried out of the stall. He looked once again to make sure the men still had their backs to them, then began creeping as quickly as he could across the hay-strewn ground.

  In the blink of an eye, they neared the end of the row of stalls. Before they could reach the wide-open double doors that led out into the yard, Matthew’s foot caught on a pail, sending it clanking across the floor. He froze and instinctively looked back at John and Greer, scrambling to his feet when he caught their eye.

  “Well, look who it is,” John drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. “Didja get a good earful just now?”

  Matthew straightened up, squaring his shoulders as he faced them. “I heard plenty, if that’s what you’re asking, at least enough to know you’re a greedy coward and a murderer.”

  “Get ‘em, John! He knows too much!” Greer shouted, lunging for Matthew at the same time that John took a run for him.

  Matthew pushed Lucy towards another stall and raised his fists, meeting his uncle’s approach with a blow to the old man’s eye. John stumbled backwards into Nelson, but was quickly back on his feet. Together, they rushed at Matthew, both grappling with him until John managed to pin the younger man’s arms and Nelson began raining blows down on him.

  Matthew tried valiantly to twist free from his uncle’s grasp, but to no avail. He threw himself backwards to kick at Greer, but only managed to land one booted foot before Greer punched him in the face, sending blood pouring from his nose.

  * * *

  Lucy watched in horror as Matthew’s strength began to wane, yet Nelson and John didn’t let up on their assault. She looked around the small stall and found the most blessed weapon she could, an ax that someone had left there, propping the door open. She took it in both hands and lifted it, surprised that a tool so small had so much weight.

  Without stopping to let her thoughts dissuade her, Lucy stood up abruptly and rushed from the stall, lifting the ax as she went. She saw John’s eyes go wide as she held it above her head and brought the broad side of the ax head crashing down against the back of Nelson’s skull. He fell forward, nearly collapsing on top of Matthew and John, and didn’t move.

  Slack-jawed in surprise, John dropped his hold on Matthew and stood there, alternating between glaring at Lucy and staring down at Nelson. He stammered slightly, but his words failed him.

  Matthew turned around and staggered towards his uncle. He reached behind him and gestured for Lucy to give him the ax, which she gratefully dropped into his waiting hand. Holding it in front of him with both hands, Matthew looked at his uncle as the blood ran down his face.

  “Get on the ground,” he said, hefting the weight of the ax to one hand and unholstering his revolver with the other. His steps faltered slightly, but he regained his footing as he came closer, the gun pointed at the man in front of him.

  “Now son, you need to listen to me. I know what you heard, but it’s not what you think,” John explained, holding his hands out in front of him.

  “Get on the ground!” Matthew roared, frightening even Lucy.

  “Do as he says, please,” Lucy said softly, pleading with her eyes for John to obey.

  Defeated, John finally nodded and lowered himself to the straw. He looked up at Matthew in vain, wondering what would befall him next.

  “Lucy, run for the house and get Gertie to call the men in. Then stay in there with the others. I don’t want you to see this if I have to… if either of these lowlifes gets up.”

  “Yes Matthew,” she answered quietly, then stepped out from behind him and sprinted across the yard.

  She raced to the kitchen to give Gertie the message, then followed the old cook as she headed out to the yard. Outside, Gertie grabbed the rope that dangled from the enormous iron bell on its post and pulled with all her might. A loud, low clanging sound filled the air for several seconds as she continued to ring for help.

  “They’re so far away! How will they hear it?” she asked, and Gertie nodded grimly.

  “Oh, they will! This here bell sounds most of the way across this valley, all the way to town if the air is clear. And they’ll know something’s wrong,” she said, already watching the horizon around the house for any sign of the men.

  “You wait here, Miss Lucy, so’s you can tell ‘em what’s wrong when they come in. I’m goin’ to help Mr. Matthew!” Gertie turned and hurried to the barn faster than Lucy would have thought possible. She turned back long enough to call out, “And you keep Miz Miller busy, don’t you let her come out here now!”

  Lucy paced back and forth, her heart sinking with worry. There was no telling how far out the men might have gone or how long it may take them to get back. What if Nelson came to, or Matthew’s injuries were worse than they first appeared? What if John, sensing Matthew’s weakness, rushed at him and overpowered him?

  She had no more time to worry as the back door opened and Genevieve came outside. She looked around at the serene surroundings and frowned, shading her eyes from the sun with her hand.

  “I heard the bell, is anything the matter?” she asked, still looking for signs of trouble.

  Lucy shook her head and tried her best to smile. “No ma’am, Mr. Matthew just asked that Gertie call the men in from out on the ranch. He just… he needs to see them for a moment.”

  “That’s hardly cause to go ringing that old bell!” the woman said, still concerned. “It’s only for times of danger or serious problems! He knows better than that!” She looked around then narrowed her eyes. “No, something’s not right. I’m going to find out.”

  “Mrs. Miller, please! Please wait here with me!” Lucy cried in desperation. Genevieve stopped and turned, looking at her expectantly. “Um, it’s just that… well, Mr. Matthew has asked me to marry him and I truly wish to be his wife, but I’m just not sure. I’ve never had a mother, so perhaps you could give me some advice?”

  That was all the older woman needed to hear. She clapped her hands together excitedly then took both of Lucy’s hands in her own.

  “Of course, my dear! I’m sure you have so many questions! Come, let’s sit in the parlor and have a chat. I’ll just get Gertie to fix us up some refreshments, and—”

  “Oh no, please let me get them,” Lucy said. “I couldn’t possibly tear her away from her work just on my account. I’d feel so selfish.”

  Genevieve nodded and gave Lucy’s shoulders a squeeze. “We’ll fix something together. I have a marvelous idea! Maybe we can talk while we bake something special for everyone to enjoy at supper tonight!”

  Lucy grimaced to herself. She could only hope that there was cause for celebration that evening. But she’d been tasked with keeping Matthew’s mother from discovering what was taking place that very minute, practically under her nose. And she would do her part to the very end.

  * * *

  “Mr. Matthew! I’m here, what can I do?” Gertie asked, panting to catch her breath. She nearly fainted when she saw the young man’s beaten face, his eyes and mouth swollen, his nose still bleeding.

  “Gertie, no,” he answered weakly. “Too dangerous.”

  “Nonsense! Just keep that gun on ‘em!” she argued hotly, looking around for something she could use. Her eyes alighted on a coil of rope, and judging that John may be the bigger threat since he was awake, she nodded to Matthew and began to tie the old man’s hands.

  While she worked the knots and looped the end of the rope through an iron tack ring mounted in the wall, Matthew watched gratefully. He wasn’t sure how long his strength would hold out, but knowing his ranch hands were coming any moment and his uncle would be securely tied up was a big help.

  His ears still rung from the fists that had rained down on his head, so he didn’t hear the noise behind him until the sole of a boot connected squarely with the small of his back. Matthew fell forward, narrowly missing Gertie and John, but landing painfully on the blade of the ax that he still held in his hand.<
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  “You think you’re gonna be the end of me?” Nelson Greer said, standing over Matthew and shaking his head. “No sissy-boy rancher like yerself can take down someone like me! I’m wanted all across this territory for killing better men than you!”

  He raised his boot to kick Matthew squarely in the gut, but Matthew rolled to one side, avoiding the strike. Without even aiming, he raised the revolver and fired first one shot, and then another.

  Nelson Greer fell to the ground and the world was finally rid of him.

  “Mr. Matthew!” Gertie screamed, pointing to the blood that now seeped through the front of his shirt.

  Matthew looked down at the ax wound for a few moments in silence, then let his eyes close and his head fall back. The last thing he heard was his uncle’s vengeful moan as the other ranch hands raced into the barn and grabbed him.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Inside the house, Lucy and Genevieve worked together to whip up some shortbread. Part of her mind wanted to relish every moment, having never had a mother to bake with or talk to, but Lucy couldn’t afford that luxury. She continued to cast an anxious glance out the front windows towards the barn every time she had an excuse to walk past the door.

  “You’re fretting worse than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs!” Mrs. Miller teased Lucy as she heaped more flour on the sideboard to roll out the dough. “I know you’re worrying on the idea of marriage, but is there something else the matter?”

  “No ma’am,” Lucy managed to lie with a straight face. “I’m just watching out for Mr. Matthew, that’s all.”

  No sooner had the falsehood passed her lips than they were startled by the sharp retort of a gunshot, followed quickly by another one. Genevieve looked at Lucy in fear then hurried out of the kitchen.

  “Mrs. Miller! Wait! Don’t go, please!” Lucy begged, catching up to her and taking her by the elbow. She pulled her away from the front door and cried, “I’ll tell you the truth! But we have to get away from the door!”

  Genevieve whirled around and glared at Lucy. “What’s happening? Something’s happening with my son and you know what it is, don’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she answered quietly, before shaking her head. “Well, only the part I overheard just a bit ago. Mr. Matthew sent me to fetch Gertie for help, but she bade me stay here with you and keep you safe!”

  Mrs. Miller took a small step backwards and crossed her arms in front of her. “I don’t think I believe you.”

  “What?” Lucy asked, her heart sinking in her chest.

  “This has always been a peaceful place, a home where I buried my husband and raised my child. But ever since you first wrote to my son, there’s been nothing but trouble. And I think you’ve brought it down on all of us.”

  “No, Mrs. Miller! Please let me explain,” Lucy cried, but the front door blew open and Seaborn entered first, followed by Samuel. Fortunately, there’d been no need to carry Matthew this time. He entered under the power of his own sturdy legs, though he was still badly beaten and clutched his side with his free hand.

  In his right hand, he still held his revolver, as if unwilling to let it go. His mother hurried to him, concerned for his injuries.

  “I’m fine, Ma,” he said slowly before she could react. “But Seaborn, we need the sheriff. Tell him to bring a few men, if you’d be so kind.”

  Seaborn nodded grimly and hurried back outside. Matthew turned to Samuel. “I’m all right, I assure you. Would you help the others stand watch over John ‘til the sheriff arrives?”

  Samuel, too, hurried to obey, leaving only Matthew, Lucy, and Genevieve in the house. Lucy was quiet, aware that his mother’s accusation still hung over her. She didn’t want to say anything to slander his mother in Matthew’s eyes, but also still burned inwardly from her remarks.

  “Son? Will you please tell me what’s happening?” Genevieve pleaded, casting a nervous glance over her shoulder at Lucy. Matthew followed his mother’s gaze and looked over at the young woman, too, seeming to not recognize her.

  “I don’t know, Ma,” Matthew finally said with a sad sigh. “I thought I knew, but I guess I was wrong.”

  “Matthew…” Lucy began, but the looks on both his and his mother’s faces stopped her. She closed her eyes and let the anguish wash over her.

  “Son, look at me,” Mrs. Miller pleaded, looking up at Matthew. “Something is amiss. I don’t know what it is, but I do know that the only way to restore the tranquility of this ranch is to go back to the way things were before.”

  She let her words hang in the space between them, but her intent was clear: the way things were before Lucy had arrived and turned everything on its head.

  “I don’t know what to think, Ma,” Matthew replied, his blank expression still fixed upon Lucy’s distraught face. “My uncle turns out to be a murderous thief who associates with the worst kind of men, and I know what I heard. That outlaw knows Miss Lucy somehow, he called her ‘important’ to him. I’m starting to think the sheriff might have been right to be suspicious. Worse, though, is the fact that everything I thought I knew about my own property seems to have been built on a lie.”

  Silent tears fell from Lucy’s cheeks. She looked at Matthew and saw only the confusion and betrayal of having his own family seek his ruin. She, a stranger who’d only arrived days before, was certainly no one to comfort him.

  Resigned to the loss of everything she’d hoped for, Lucy nodded. “I’ll just… I’ll leave.”

  Not that she truly thought anyone would oppose, but the silence stung more than she’d expected. Lucy looked at Matthew imploringly, then walked up the stairs to retrieve what little she had in the world.

  When Lucy emerged from her room wearing her only clothes, the others she’d borrowed left folded neatly on the bed, Matthew was in the kitchen with his mother, tending to his wounds. She thought to say something noble, some word of defense, but decided it was better not to. If mere words could sway their hearts, there would have been no thought of accusations in the first place. No one who would believe her protests would have ever believed so poorly of her to begin with.

  Instead, she walked straight to the front door and left, closing it softly behind her. Lucy turned to follow the path towards town, but Susanna was waiting outside.

  “Miss Lucy?” she said hesitantly before pointing at the wagon. “I asked permission, and Mr. Matthew agreed that I might carry you to town.”

  “That’s awfully nice of you, but I don’t want to be any trouble. Besides, I don’t know where to go. It would just be a waste of your time,” Lucy answered, sniffling loudly to avoid crying in front of anyone.

  “I don’t mind, honest!” Susanna protested, a look of endearing sympathy on her face. “And I’m to take you to one of the hotels. Mr. Matthew is going to see to your bill.”

  Lucy wanted to argue, but her common sense prevented her. What good was her pride if she had nowhere to go? Without his charity, what would she do? Sleep behind a shop or pick through the rubbish bins for a meal?

  She followed Susanna to the wagon mutely and soon they were on their way, leaving the ranch and all of its memories behind.

  They traveled all the way to town in utter silence, and Lucy’s heart grew heavy with misery. She hurt not only for what she was losing, but for the knowledge that it had been taken from her in the cruelest way possible. A husband, a home, a family among some of the kindest people she’d ever met were all torn from her grasp by a stranger’s vicious lies, and there was nothing she could do to make it right.

  Susanna brought the wagon to a stop in front of a three-story wooden building, one of the nicer structures in Tuckerrise. Gleaming white columns supported the roof and an elegant, wide porch stretched the length of the front. Lucy looked up in surprise, her moist eyes reflecting the glow of the many chandeliers that burned within.

  “I was told to take you to a hotel,” Susanna said smugly, “but they never said which one. So I chose this one, the finest one in the terr
itory. Be sure to tell them to put all your meals on the bill as well, Miss Lucy. It’s the very least you deserve after what you’ve been put through.”

  “Oh, you precious angel! You actually believe me?” Lucy asked, feeling hopeful for the first time since her nightmare began anew.

  “Of course I do. Anyone with half a mind can see that you don’t take the word of a wanted thief and a killer over a girl who arrived with nothing but the clothes on her back!” Susanna answered, taking Lucy’s shoulders and hugging her close. “I’m just sorry that the others don’t see it that way.”

  “It means so much to me that someone in this world thinks I’m no villain!” Lucy cried softly.

  “But Miss Jones, what will you do now?” Susanna pressed anxiously. Lucy shook her head.