True Blue Cowboy

by Debra Holt

  She stood dressed in the one black dress she owned. It was the same dress she had worn at her graduation and then for her father’s funeral. She did add the blue shawl her mother often wore around her own shoulders while reading at night. Josie told herself it was to keep the slight chill of the wind away. Her heart knew it was an attempt to keep her mother close beside her. To pretend it was her mother’s arms gathering her inside, away from the pain. Josie’s fingers drew the material closer around her shoulders as the time neared to walk away. Alone…that was how she would leave. That was how she truly was now. The starkness of the word had become a double-edged sword in her heart.

  Chance, dressed in a tailored, western-cut dark suit, black hat in one hand, stood across the casket from her, having done his duty as pallbearer. A couple of times, she had looked up and found his gaze upon her, and she quickly brought her eyes downward. He had never been far from her side over the last couple of days…not being obtrusive, just there…if she needed to reach out. But she hadn’t. The look in those blue depths was too painful for her to see.

  She didn’t need, nor want, people’s pity. It seemed that was all she saw as she stood quietly, receiving the well-meaning expressions of sorrow and condolences over the last few days. All she really wanted was to bolt from the place and ride as far and fast as her horse could take her. To outrace every ounce of pain and never look back. Her eyes locked on the distant hills as if seeking refuge.

  A few minutes later, it was over. “Amazing Grace” had been sung. The last prayer had died away. People began to file away in twos and threes. They would return to their busy lives soon enough. Josie continued to stay seated in the folding chair for a couple of minutes, her hands clenched in her lap. Finally, the Reverend and his wife offered to walk her to the reception hall at the church, where food and more condolences and pitying glances awaited. She thanked them and said she would be along shortly. At last, with their departure, she was alone.

  Standing, she walked toward the casket of burnished wood and steel. There was no need to draw things out. Her mother wasn’t really in that box. She was walking in a golden meadow of her favorite sunflowers, hand in hand with her Ben once more. At least that was the vision Josie held in her heart. She kissed the single white rose she held and laid it on top of the rest. Taking a deep breath, she turned and walked away. As hard as it was, she didn’t look back.

  Looking back would have been her undoing. Besides, her mother had said often enough, looking back can cause you to miss what is right in front of you. At the entrance to the cemetery, she saw Chance, standing quietly, his hands running the brim of his hat through his fingertips. Her steps slowed and then stopped as she came even with him.

  Neither of them spoke for several moments. Josie kept her eyes on the toe of one of her black pumps she was wearing instead of her usual cowboy boots. She kept them there until a soft jangle of keys seeped into her thoughts, and Chance’s palm caught her attention. He extended it towards her. A key ring lay on it. She looked up at him.

  “You can take my truck back to your ranch. I’ll catch a ride with Tom and pick it up later. If anyone misses you inside, I’ll make an excuse for you. I figure it’s a good afternoon for a ride.”

  Josie was closer to tears at that moment than at any other time over recent days. Chance’s unexpected act, and the fact that he knew what she needed more than anything at the moment, was almost her undoing.

  “Don’t speak. Just go.” He motioned with his head toward his truck.

  She caught the keys in her hand and did just that.

  Chapter Four

  Somewhere across the far distant plain and hills, Chance could imagine Josie and Cookie riding in solemn quiet. In times of inner struggle or painful moments, he knew that Josie’s solace was much the same as his…to be on the back of his best and silent companion, surrounded by both the majesty and stark vastness of nature. It was a balm to both the spirit and body. But he doubted Josie ever thought about what they both had in common.

  And now times had changed on them once more. In the past, he could be a help and a shield for the spirited young Josie. But the years had changed them all. And, while he tried to remain steadfast in his silent stance not far from her side, he knew that other forces were moving to place invisible barriers and choices between them. Maybe it was all for the best. He had said he was patient…he could wait for Josie to recognize him for the man he wanted to be to her.

  But then, maybe, he would just be the one always in the shadow of his brother. More and more, he had found that thought weighing heavily in the corners of his mind. What if Dev did come back now? What would Josie’s reaction be? Was she truly over him? Or would she hand him her heart again to be broken? Would I need to step in and pick up the pieces once more of my brother’s undoing?

  But it wasn’t just between Josie and Dev and himself any longer. Dianne had asked him to make promises that he had no idea if he could keep…or even if he should try. The will would soon be made known to Josie, and that would ensure an explosion. And lest they forget, there were the trustees to be satisfied. Business was business. But Chance knew it wouldn’t seem like that to Josie’s heart. No matter what was coming over the distant hills toward them with a relentless speed, there would be changes and decisions to be made. And he had no idea what to do. So he would just sit and wait…waiting for Josie.

  *

  Josie returned to the ranch from her run just as the sun began to set in the western sky. She had spent her tears with Cookie as her silent solace. To her surprise, Chance’s truck was still parked where she had left it. Someone had left the porch light on for her. For just a little while, she forgot. For a moment, she imagined her mother would be inside with a home-cooked meal on the table and a bright smile on her face. Nothing would have changed.

  Then reality came crashing in as she slowed her mount’s steps across the ranch yard. There would be no one inside waiting for her. There was no one left but her. Her mind numbed. She took her time in the barn, rubbing down and putting away Cookie, until she could put it off no longer.

  It wasn’t until she mounted the last step to the porch that she noticed the quiet figure sitting in the rocking chair to the side of the porch. Chance sat, sans suit coat and tie, seemingly relaxing in the quiet of the oncoming dusk.

  “I thought you’d be gone long before now. Did you and Tom just get back?” Josie spoke first, an uncertainty settling over her.

  “We’ve been back a while. I thought I’d just sit a spell and enjoy the peace. I’ve always liked the view from this porch. I figured you’d be along soon enough.”

  He didn’t fool her a bit. She had never seen Chance sit still for very long.

  “You didn’t have to wait for me. I’m okay. I left your keys in your truck for you earlier, so you wouldn’t have to wait.”

  He pushed himself out of the chair and paused to stretch his legs a bit, before picking up his hat from the side table, his jacket folded over an arm. Then he moved to stand closer to her, his shoulder leaning against the pillar of the porch. “I figured you’d say that.” His eyes brushed over her face, and Josie felt the air around them grow heavier. There was something new in those eyes, but she didn’t want to dissect it, because she knew it had to be some new kind of pity.

  “I know you’ll get your bristles up if I mention that Tom and Mary have offered to come stay here at the main house with you for awhile…if you want them. Just in case you don’t want to be alone right now.”

  Josie was about to set him straight, but something stopped her. They were all trying to help her. They had cared for her mother, too. And her mother would be the first to remind her about being rude. She simply shook her head instead. There was a knot in her throat, and she was afraid she was about to make a fool of herself. It was okay because, once again, Chance seemed to know what she needed.

  He stepped forward and simply gathered her inside his strong arms. She didn’t have any desire to fight him. Her head came jus
t to the top of his shoulder, yet it seemed the space was a perfect fit. It always had been over the years. There were no words. He simply held her. Her arms found their remembered path around his waist as they had done many times before. For a few minutes, they stood like that on the front porch, as the shadows grew, and night fell around them. His warmth eased the pain, and his arms held the world at bay for just a little while. For a moment, the world righted itself.

  He continued to hold her as she found her voice, her words muffled by his shirt front. “Everything is falling apart. I don’t know why. I don’t know why you put up with me, either. I’m mean to you, and you don’t deserve it. You’ve always been the one person in my life who never changes and the one I know I can trust to stay the same.”

  Chance didn’t respond at first. She was aware there was a change within him though. She felt his muscles tighten beneath her cheek and in the arms around her. Had she embarrassed him in some way? When she raised her head to look up at him, his eyes didn’t meet hers. He didn’t stop her when she loosened her hold and stepped back.

  Chance’s gaze settled warmth over her, and he chose his words with care. “And as I recall, I always seemed to have some advice for you. From experience, I can tell you that it seems like your world has cratered around you right now. I can’t fix this. No one can. But I can tell you that tomorrow will come, and you’ll do what you have to do because you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. As for you being mean to me…I might have pushed a bit harder sometimes than I should have…stuck my nose in things that were better left alone. But it’s going to take a lot more than any rudeness on your part to run me off. Just remember that, whatever comes your way in the coming days…keep in mind that I always keep my promises. My word to someone is my bond.”

  His words were cryptic, but he didn’t give her time to question anything. Placing his hat on his head, he gave her a quick peck on her forehead and then stepped around her, heading down the steps. “Get some sleep, Josie. I’m always just a phone call away if you need me.” She stood in the spot he left her. Once his truck pulled down the drive, she was truly alone.

  As Josie entered the quiet house, there was a light in the kitchen, and she found there were several containers of food on the table, and a note stating the fridge and the freezer were also full. Their neighbors had been busy. She had no idea how she could possibly eat all the food by herself, especially when she had little appetite. Switching off the lights, she went upstairs.

  Instead of going to her room, she went to her mother’s. She stood in the doorway for several long moments, her eyes taking in the emptiness. Her things were still as she left them…as if she would return any moment. Josie knew that one day she would have to deal with the items, but not soon, and certainly not at that moment.

  As she was about to turn, her gaze caught the scrapbooks her mother kept on the bottom of her nightstand. It was a hobby the woman had picked up after the loss of her husband. She had said it reduced her stress and brought her peace. Josie picked them up and carried them to her room. Removing her boots, she settled in the center of the bed. She opened the first one.

  There were photos of her parents on their wedding day. Her mother had been a beautiful bride, all smiles and candlelight lace. Her dad looked so nervous. Gazing into each other’s eyes…her heart constricted at how much love their eyes held for each other. They seemed so excited to begin the unknown adventure ahead of them. She turned the pages, and then there was a ton of photos of a little pink-blanketed baby girl named Josie. Her life was on the pages for her to see. For the first time, she really examined the photos.

  Halfway through the first album, photos of Dev and Chance appeared. There was even one of their parents… the Braxtons. She barely remembered their mother. Their father was a different story. A tall man, he rarely smiled, and always seemed to have better things to do than be around his family. He ran his ranch with a tight fist, and people always seemed to breathe easier when he would go on his business trips for a week here or there. She couldn’t remember ever seeing the man extend any warmth to either of his sons. What had it been like for Chance…and for Dev…growing up in such an atmosphere?

  As Josie turned more pages, she saw very little of Dev in the photos. It was Chance who stood beside her in her party dress for her first real dance. Then, he was beside her again at her prom. The first time she branded a cow…he was in the background watching her. Her first cattle auction…he had taken her. She learned to drive in his old ranch truck…and he had stuck it out when she had put a couple more dents into it along the way. Through the years, it continued.

  In more than a few photos, Chance was somewhere in the background, and his gaze was in her vicinity…like a watchful big brother. She hadn’t needed a big brother…but he had been labeled that more than once. She was more than aware he was often thought of as the son her parents never had. That thought jarred inside her. Often times, it had felt he was a measuring stick in her mind…she had to measure up to Chance. And, just as clear as that thought came, another took its place…she never would. So she had to be tougher and stand on her own. She silently fought against him and his interference. She rebuffed him for helping. She tried to push him away, but he was just as stubborn. He kept her tied in knots, and her life was already difficult enough.

  She learned early that, to have respect in the ranching world, you needed to be tough…doubly so if you were a female. Chance had seemed, at times, to step in where she didn’t need him to be…and that angered her. She had to do things on her own. And the fact was, that now, she was truly on her own. People would be waiting and watching, expecting her to fail. As much as she might wish there was a strong hand to hold once in a while, or a shoulder to lean on when she felt inadequate to the task, she had to get through it. If she failed, she would have to fail on her own.

  The final photo in the book was one taken last spring. It was of her and Chance, astride their horses, and Chance had said something, and she had laughed out loud. He threw her a grin in return just as the camera snapped. Something caught in her chest as she looked at the pair in the photo. They looked happy…with each other. It had been a really good day. Chance. Why did he frustrate her so much of late? Why couldn’t they be like they once were? Things used to be so much easier…so much was changing, far too fast. Everything was slipping through her grasp.

  She shut the book and shoved it away. Memories hurt too much. Pulling back the covers, she slid into bed and buried her head in her pillow. Josie prayed sleep would come quickly and shut out the memories and any dreams would stay at bay.

  Chapter Five

  Two days passed. On the third day, Josie repeated the other two. She rose before the sun and dressed in her usual work clothes…flannel shirt and jeans. The warmth of the previous day was gone. The temperature was in the upper forties, which made her parka and heavier gloves necessities. As she came out on the porch, she saw Tom’s truck parked beside the barn. She joined him a few minutes later and found he had their horses saddled and ready.

  “I figured you’d want to tackle the east pasture fence today,” he said, swinging into his saddle as she did the same. “Roy Morgan volunteered some of his time today, and I sent him ahead with our couple of hands and the truck and materials.”

  She nodded her head. “We can start on it. Then we need to see how much more hay we need to add to the hay barn. If we can’t get a better price than McGuffey’s, I’ll need you to head over to Sweetwater and see what you can get there.” While they raised as much hay as they possibly could for their cattle, they fell short this season due to the drought conditions. With the early arrival of the first cold front, they would need to supplement even more than they had originally ordered earlier in the season. It would be another expense to add to the long list she calculated almost continually in her head…that and the looming business with the bank note. But, at the moment, she had to tackle what she could in the day before her.

  Topping the secon
d hill, they brought their horses up short. Josie blinked a couple of times to make certain she wasn’t seeing things. Several men, not just her two ranch hands, and a work truck loaded with wire and toolboxes stood beside a section of their fence in need of repair. By their actions, the crew was intent on making fast work of it.

  Before Josie could speak, her eyes caught the movement of the familiar big paint horse headed their way. Its rider, bundled in a navy work jacket, his black hat pulled down on his head, leather chaps protecting long legs, eased toward them. Chance Braxton sat a horse as naturally as if he was literally a part of it. She had caught herself a time or two almost mesmerized as she watched him cutting a herd of cattle or racing ahead of a remuda of horses.

  However, she wasn’t mesmerized at the moment. The irritation rose inside her. Did he take it for granted that she couldn’t manage the re-fencing without his help? The wall came up. She wasn’t smiling at his approach. She hadn’t seen nor heard from him in almost three days, and then he appeared on her land, doing repairs he had no business making without her permission.

  “Are your men lost? They happen to be on my land, not yours.”

  Chance ignored her remarks for the moment. He dipped his head in a greeting to the man who sat between them, obviously wishing to be someplace else, instead of in the line of fire.