For the Love of a Wounded Cowboy: A Historical Western Romance Book

by Cassidy Hanton

  “I have to go out that way,” the sheriff informed her. “I can take you if you’d like.”

  “Would you?” Amelia asked eagerly. “I can pay you for your trouble.”

  Sheriff Manchester raised a large hand at her. “No need for that. You wait out front and I’ll bring a horse around for you. I don’t have a wagon, so I hope you can ride.”

  Amelia smiled. “I was riding horses long before I knew how to hook a wagon,” she replied.

  “Good then, we won’t have any trouble on the ride there.”

  Oliver woke before dawn. His day always allowed him to enjoy the sunrise, and he liked to be done in time to watch it set. It was a little pleasure of his and one he liked to enjoy as often as he could.

  Glenore was his pride and joy, and it was never a task for him to wake early, and build the ranch, which had been his father’s dream. It was named after his mother, which only made it mean that much more. He got right to work.

  The day was turning out to be a productive one, and Oliver was glad for it. There was a lot to do on the ranch and it was only him and Melvin to work the land. Glenore was transformed from the small ranch it was three years before, to a sprawling homestead of several acres. It was a property that needed a lot of care, but Oliver didn’t trust anyone to work it but Melvin and himself. Only during the harvest season did he hire more hands to bring in the crops from the fields, but he and Melvin took care of the cattle. Melvin kept telling him that they needed more hands, but Oliver refused.

  That morning he woke early to deal with the animals while Melvin checked the crops. Once the cows were milked, the eggs collected, the pigs fed, and the horses brushed, Oliver moved his work from the animals to maintenance. Winter was a few months away and a property such as Glenore required a lot of heat to keep it warm. He wasn’t going to wait until winter to get it done, but first, he needed to check the shingles on the roof.

  Oliver finished the repairs to the roof by mid-morning and moved on to chopping wood. He swung the ax high into the air and brought it down in the thick piece of log, splitting it in two. Oliver stacked the pieces neatly in the pile and grabbed another log to chop.

  “Oliver!” Melvin called from behind him.

  “Yeah?” Oliver answered, as he stopped working to look in his friend’s direction.

  Melvin strode toward him. Oliver smiled. His old friend had changed little in the years since his father passed. He was still wiry, though his hair had thinned some and it was greyer than it used to be. He pulled on his suspenders as he walked.

  “What’re you doin’ today?” he asked as he got close.

  Oliver took a deep breath. “I’m gonna work on the logs for winter. That will take me a few hours, at least. I’ve got a whole bunch of them waiting to be chopped up and stacked. I may take a break, go check on the cattle in the west field, and then finish. After that, I’ll just work on dinner and bed. Start all over again tomorrow,” he said with a smirk.

  Melvin nodded. “All right,” he stated. “Then I’ll go into town to sell the vegetables from the garden.”

  Oliver and Melvin couldn’t manage a large vegetable garden, but the small one they had was enough to supply their needs and then some. Whatever was left over, Oliver or Melvin would sell in town to add to their income.

  “Sounds good,” Oliver replied. “It will save me a trip tomorrow.” He liked to plan ahead and already had his chores for the entire week organized. He couldn’t afford to be haphazard about things with as much as he had to do. He had to be precise and keep things to a schedule or else things could too easily become overwhelming.

  “Good,” Melvin said with a smile. “I’ll be getting on then.”

  “Check with Boudry and see if that order of nails is in.”

  “All right!” Melvin called back to him without looking around.

  Oliver got back to work. He finished his first round of log chopping before moving on to deal with the cattle.

  The Gyles ranch had over one hundred head of longhorn cattle that Oliver kept pastured most of the day and sometimes overnight. He walked to the barn and saddled his horse, then walked Brigand out of the barn and climbed onto his back to find where the cattle were roaming in the west field.

  There was nothing like sitting in the saddle, high above the valley, and watching your cattle as they roamed the field. He smiled broadly, as he gazed down at them from the ridge.

  He sat watching the animals, and his mind wandered to thoughts of his father. This was what his old man had always wished for them. He wanted to turn Glenore into the best ranch in all of Rattleridge, and Oliver had done his best to do just that. It wasn’t easy. It took him a long time to recover after his injuries of that night, but once he was healed, his sole focus was on building back what had been taken from him. He couldn’t bring his father back. He couldn’t give him life again, but he could make his dream a reality. His father could live on in that.

  Sometimes, Oliver thought of the other things there were in life, beside Glenore. There were the things that most men wanted; a wife and family, but he convinced himself that it wasn’t for him. That he didn’t want them. Sometimes, he wondered if that was true or whether it was something he told himself to make each day without it easier. He wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t going to waste time trying to figure it out. There was still too much for him to do, and time was precious.

  Chapter Five

  The ride to the ranch was exhilarating. The terrain was spectacular and Amelia found herself staring in wonder at everything they passed. When they arrived at the main house more than an hour later, Amelia was breathless, both with excitement as much as anxiety.

  “Here you are,” Sheriff Manchester stated, as they walked the horses up to the front porch. “Do you want me to stay with you just in case Oliver isn’t here?”

  Amelia shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. You have business to get to. I’ll be fine right here.”

  He looked at her skeptically before getting back on his horse. “Go in the barn and stay in the hayloft if you don’t hear him around,” the sheriff suggested. “It’s the safest place until he gets back. I’ll be sure to check on you on my way back to town, just to be sure you’re safe.”

  Amelia smiled. “Thank you, Sheriff.”

  Her brown eyes lingered on the sheriff’s frame as he rode away. He hadn’t gone very far when her heart began to beat loudly in her ears. This was it. She was here. There was no going back.

  Amelia walked up the short steps to the porch. She raised her hand and knocked on the door several times. There was no answer.

  “Is anyone there?” she called. Still, there was silence.

  She called repeatedly, but no one answered her. Then, she heard a sound coming from somewhere behind the house. She followed it.

  Amelia’s heart was beating so loudly that it competed with the thwacking noises she was following. Finally, she stepped out from behind the building, and immediately felt transported to Heaven.

  Lush shades of green covered everything before her. Flowers of pale lavender, yellow, and blue dotted the green with their vibrant colors, as tall pine trees clustered together in patches, like soldiers. The sky was cerulean, with large white clouds coming down from the mountains. The mountains themselves were colossal formations of stone marked with white.

  The property itself was majestic, so much more than Amelia could ever have dreamed. A large log barn stood to her right. It was three times the size of the one she had at home and by the sound of it, there were far more animals on the Gyles ranch than at her former home. Beyond the barn was a vast field marked by a log fence, which was so far away that she could just make it out in the distance. There was nothing else around, save the fields to her left. They stretched out before her like a large blanket. She spotted a man hard at work chopping wood by a large woodpile. She walked over to him.

  Her heart jumped around in her chest as she walked closer. “Hello?” she called once she was within earshot. The yo
ung man stopped immediately and turned to face her.

  Amelia’s heart stopped instantly. She felt her eyes go wide and her cheeks get hot as she recognized the face and mop of curly hair.

  His hair is brown.

  “Can I help you?” Oliver asked, confused. “How did you get out here?”

  “I was at the station, but when I didn’t see anyone come, I asked the sheriff to point me in the right direction. He brought me right here,” she informed him as she smiled nervously. “Did I miss your man? I looked for Melvin, thinking of your description of what he looks like, but I didn’t see anyone.”

  “I’m sorry,” Oliver replied. “Who are you? Do you know Melvin?”

  Amelia was confused. Why was he asking her such questions? Oliver made all of the arrangements himself. Why would he need to ask her anything? He was Oliver, wasn’t he? She stepped closer to get a better look.

  “I’m Amelia,” she replied, when she had closed the space between them by several feet.

  He looked at her blankly.

  Her brow furrowed as she blinked rapidly. This wasn’t making sense. He knew why she was here, why was he acting so strangely? “I’m here of the ad,” she continued.

  “What ad?”

  Her heart almost stopped entirely. “The ad you placed in the Thinvale Gazette,” she explained.

  Oliver frowned. “The what?”

  Amelia’s heart began to race in alarm. “The mail-order bride ad that you posted.”

  Oliver looked at her completely baffled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  The sky was changing and Oliver knew that he needed to get the cattle home and into the corral. They’d already spent a night wandering the fields. That was enough. He whistled loud and long before he started to fill the air with yips and yells to get the herd’s attention.

  Oliver sat in the saddle and kept his eyes on the herd as he guided them. He’d done this for years and it was always the same. There was something relaxing about it. He could remember his father teaching him about ranching when he was a boy and when he first started taking him out to watch the cattle. He always told him that the last thing he had to fear was the cows. They needed him more than he needed them. It was a lesson he never forgot.

  Once the animals were safely locked in the corral, Oliver headed inside for some lunch. He had some leftover chicken, cheese, and bread and made a sandwich of it. He washed it down with some cider before getting back to work.

  He planned to get right back to the firewood, but Oliver’s mind wouldn’t allow him to. There was something about the day that felt different. He wasn’t sure what it was about it, but he couldn’t shake the feeling. He walked around the property to try to regain his focus.

  Oliver found several things that needed to be worked on by the time his walk was over. It was further evidence that they needed help to stay on top of everything, but Oliver was still reluctant to accept it. Then he went back inside.

  The house was messy. Oliver hated to admit it, but he and Melvin were not the best housekeepers. They worked hard outside and inside suffered for it. Once a month they would take a day to clean and get everything organized, but otherwise, they did their best not to make it worse. Their clothes weren’t even a consideration. They were two men with lots to do and it didn’t take a lot for their clothes to become worn. It was a miracle that there weren’t more holes in their trousers and shirts than there already was. Usually, Oliver patched the worst of them, but otherwise, he pretended it wasn’t there until he couldn’t anymore.

  Oliver sighed. “We really do need help,” he said to himself. “I just can’t do it.”

  Despite his feelings, Oliver wasn’t risking having more people on his ranch than there needed to be. What happened to his father was a lesson—don’t trust people. Oliver had learned it well. The fewer people in his life the better, and living so far away from town, it made it a lot easier for him to keep that promise to himself. The only person he trusted was Melvin. He headed back to the yard and the pile of wood that was waiting for him.

  Each connection of the ax with the wood was accompanied by a memory. He saw his father’s face before his eyes. His burned clothes and melted skin. He heard his last words to him, repeating in his mind.

  Oliver looked down at the fingers on his left hand. They were wrinkled and discolored, but they worked. He was lucky. Doc Brey told him that if the burns had been any worse he might have lost his fingers. Where would he be then? Oliver tried to ignore the thought and got back to work.

  More than half an hour passed and Oliver was finishing the work on the firewood when he heard the crack of twig and a woman’s voice behind him. Dumbfounded, he saw a beautiful young woman walking toward him. She was not like the women he saw in town, she was more petite, and had a nicer figure than most. Her hair was dark gold, but it seemed like the sun as she walked toward him. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at her. He had to force himself to think how to speak, she was so stunning. There were pretty women in Rattleridge, but Oliver didn’t believe he had ever seen any woman who looked like her. In fact, he had never seen her before. After that, things got confusing quickly.

  She had a sweet voice, almost melodic, as she spoke to him. It was the kind of voice that soothed you to listen to it. He found himself thinking that it was the kind of voice you would want to hear before you went to sleep at night.

  Oliver tried to focus on her words, as he noticed other things about the young woman. Her clothes were clean and neat, but clearly not new. Oliver could see places where repairs had been made.

  Her shoes were polished but old. Oliver found this all strange since most young women took care of their appearance. He casually looked at her left hand. There was no ring on her finger, which meant she wasn’t married, even more reason to keep up her appearance.

  She can’t be more than twenty-four. What is a young woman doing out here? What business has she? He looked beyond her to see if anyone was following. There was no one. How did she get here? She couldn’t possibly have come here alone.

  Oliver’s mind was reeling as he listened to the young woman speak. She seemed happy to see him, but he had no idea who she was. It was unfortunate that she had come to the wrong place.

  He listened and tried to decipher what she was going on about, but none of it made sense. There was nothing familiar about her name, Amelia. Then she referred to an ad that he knew nothing about.

  Thinvale? Where’s Thinvale?

  “The mail-order bride ad that you posted,” she stated. Oliver looked at her in shocked disbelief. He had never heard anything as absurd as the suggestion that he would place an ad for a wife in the newspaper. He had no desire to marry. He was far from that place in his life. He still had so much to do, the ranch still wasn’t where he wanted it to be, and until then he wasn’t going to entertain the thought of a wife.

  That thought was like a slap to Oliver’s mind. Did he just make up a reason for why he wasn’t ready for a wife? He’d never even considered it before. Where did that thought come from?

  “I’m sorry, Miss—” Oliver replied, but he didn’t get to finish his sentence as the young woman interrupted him. It was strange, but it was the nicest interruption he had ever heard.

  “Amelia,” she interjected. “Amelia Donnel.” Her brow was furrowed and she looked at him as if he should know her. He was sorry for her, but he didn’t.

  Oliver set his ax on the ground beside him and brushed his hands off. “I’m sorry,” he continued. “I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about.”

  The young woman didn’t speak immediately. Instead, she looked at him for a long time, then she began to rummage in the tattered old bag she was carrying with her. She took several seconds with her hand stuck inside the small case before she pulled something out of it. It was a photograph. She held it out in his direction. “Isn’t that you?”

  Oliver stepped forward to look at the image. He looked down at it and shock filled his gut
as his own image stared back at him.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “That is you, isn’t it?” she insisted.

  Oliver raised his green eyes to her face. It was a pretty face, with full lips and chocolate-colored eyes. He looked at the photograph again. It was his picture, but he had no idea how she had gotten it. He certainly hadn’t sent it. He looked at her again. She didn’t seem the type to steal it.

  “I can explain everythin’,” Melvin’s voice suddenly interrupted.

  Oliver turned to find the older man trotting toward them. He looked at him in confusion. What did Melvin have to do with all of this? It struck him immediately. Melvin had sent the photograph, but why? He looked at his friend with a frown.

  What is going on here?