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

by Cassidy Hanton

  He snuck along the tree line, running between the sparse vegetation until he reached a better vantage point. He gathered stones and several large pine cones as he snuck closer to the house. He huddled low. He could see the door and the horse from where he hid. His heart beat faster. His breath came in light, smoky puffs as he panted with anxiety. Slowly, he got to his feet and raised his hand with the pine cone held within it. He was close to the house, only a few feet away. He snapped his hand back and forth as if casting the line while fishing. He thought of Amelia and let it go.

  The pine cone hit its mark. The horse snorted and whinnied with distress. He launched another one at it, hitting it above the shoulder, causing the animal to rear and kick the air. Oliver dropped down below the brush and watched the door.

  There was nothing at first, not a sound or any sign of movement. Oliver’s hands tightened. “Come out,” he urged under his breath. “Come on.”

  He continued his vigil and still, there was nothing. Finally, he stood again and launched a stone along with another pine cone. He hated to hurt the animal, but he had to get Rayner to leave his hiding place by any means necessary. He raised his hand to launch another volley when the door opened. He immediately ducked.

  The door opened and Rayner appeared with Amelia held tight against his chest, a knife to her throat.

  “Oliver, is that you?” he called loudly.

  Oliver resisted the urge to respond.

  “If it’s you, show yourself, or else calamities may follow,” Rayner threatened. He held Amelia tighter, the knife pressed against her throat. Oliver watched as she closed her eyes and grimaced at the steel against her jugular.

  Hold on.

  Oliver clenched his teeth.

  “Oliver!” Rayner yelled.

  Still, he remained silent, watching Rayner and judging whether he could see him from where he stood. Oliver slunk through the underbrush. Rayner’s focus remained to his left. He hadn’t seen him. Oliver smiled.

  Perfect.

  He stood slowly, his eyes fixed on his foe and the knife that glinted in the light from within the cabin. He kept his movements slow and then flicked another pine cone at the horse. It protested immediately.

  “Oliver?” Rayner yelled once more.

  “He’s not there,” Amelia wept. “Let me go!”

  Her frightened cries tore at Oliver’s heart. He couldn’t stand it, but he had to. He had to resist reacting in emotion and use his sense like Melvin always told him.

  Keep your head on, Oliver.

  “Oliver!”

  “He’s not there!” Amelia screamed. “Please?”

  Rayner’s frantic gaze darted through the night, but Oliver’s place remained concealed. Oliver maintained his silent vigil until Rayner’s short temper forced him to react in frustration. He growled into the night. “Oliver!”

  Amelia whimpered.

  Rayner fell quiet. He sneered. “I guess he doesn’t love you as much as you thought. He’d be here if he did,” Rayner stated. His eyes searched the dark. Oliver threw another stone in the horse’s direction. It reacted as expected.

  “Damned horse!” Rayner yelled. His hand dropped from Amelia’s throat. He grabbed her by the hair, causing her to yelp in pain. Oliver had to stop himself from shouting at him.

  Keep cool.

  Oliver watched silently, fury burning in his veins and lungs as he watched Rayner toss Amelia aside like a rag. His hand closed around the sidearm on his hip.

  Don’t do something you can’t live with.

  Oliver kept his hand steady but did not attempt to remove the pistol from its holster. He was not a murderer, unlike Rayner. He couldn’t stand to kill a man from a distance in cold-blood.

  Just protect yourself, Amelia.

  Oliver watched as Rayner closed the door and started walking toward his horse. It was just what Oliver hoped. He kept to the low brush, his eyes following Rayner’s every move. He didn’t appear to have seen him, but Oliver couldn’t be completely sure. He needed to be cautious. His hand touched a fallen branch in the dark. Oliver’s hand closed around it.

  Rayner walked toward the horse and began to berate it.

  “You dumb animal!” he yelled. “All your bellowing called me out here for nothing!”

  Oliver took his chance. Rayner was distracted, his back to him and his attention on the agitated animal before him. It was now or never. He leaped from the brush, branch in hand, and hit Rayner over the back with it. The other man stumbled forward with a growl of anger, but he didn’t go down. The branch wasn’t heavy enough, but it did disorient Rayner for a moment.

  “Oliver,” he growled. “I should’ve known.”

  “But you didn’t,” Oliver replied as he rushed forward and swung the branch again. This time, Rayner was better prepared and jumped away from the blow.

  “Missed!” he sniggered.

  Oliver kept his eyes on Rayner, especially the knife that now danced in the air as he tossed it from one hand to the other.

  “Don’t count on it happening twice,” Oliver retorted. He rushed at Rayner again, the branch held high. He brought it down, hoping to catch Rayner on the arm, but he missed. He didn’t anticipate that the older man was as agile as he was. He darted to the left and ducked low. He caught Oliver on the leg with the knife, who hissed his pain into the night.

  “Seems I can count better than you,” Rayner replied with a laugh.

  Oliver’s hand squeezed the wound on his leg. He could feel the warmth of his blood oozing out. He breathed through his nose rapidly as he tried to control the pain that tore up his thigh.

  “Zero,” Oliver said through half-clenched teeth.

  “Zero?” Rayner replied.

  “Yes, zero. Nothing. No one,” Oliver continued. “As in you have nothing and you are no one.”

  Rayner smirked. “Is that supposed to upset me?”

  “No. Why should the truth bother someone like you? You don’t understand it,” Oliver countered.

  “I know the truth better than you. I’ve been tellin’ your lady friend a whole lot of truths,” he teased.

  Oliver’s heart faltered.

  Stay focused!

  “Melvin’s been telling me a few things, too. He told me that you had a thing for my Momma,” Oliver replied. He was doing his best to hide his feelings. Rayner thrived on emotion, on riling people up and forcing them to react. Oliver had already made one mistake and his leg ached because of it. He couldn’t afford another.

  Rayner’s lips pursed. “Melvin likes to talk.”

  “Yes, he does. He told me a lot. He told me how much you liked her. How you thought you could take her from my Pop,” Oliver continued to press.

  “If I wanted her I could’ve had her,” Rayner retorted.

  It was Oliver’s turn to laugh. “I don’t think so. I heard you tried your best and failed…again and again. She acted as if you didn’t exist. Like you were nothing,” he continued.

  “She didn’t think I was nothin’,” Rayner replied.

  “Yes, she did! That’s why nothing you did was enough. That’s why, despite knowing what my Pop was into, she still chose him over you. She stayed by his side. She thought you were trash,” he said slowly.

  “No, she didn’t,” Rayner replied. The two men circled each other.

  “Yes…she did. She thought you were the scum of the earth. She pretended to be nice to you,” Oliver continued. “She tolerated you out of pity because you and Vern were two little orphan boys trying to find someplace to belong.”

  That did it.

  “Don’t say my brother’s name,” Rayner hissed. His chin lowered and his eyes glared at Oliver in the moonlight.

  “What? Vern,” he repeated slowly.

  “Don’t you speak my brother’s name!” he shouted.

  “Why not? Why can’t I say his name? He doesn’t care. He can’t hear it!” Oliver retorted. He was pushing the other man as much as he could. Finally, he snapped.

  Rayner ran t
oward him and Oliver waited until he was close. Rayner slashed at him wildly, so much so that he lost his footing. Oliver took the opportunity it gave and brought the branch down, cracking it over Rayner’s shoulder and knocking the knife from his hand. The branch shattered into pieces. However, Rayner, fueled by rage, could not be stopped. He tackled Oliver around the waist and both men fell to the ground.

  They scuffled in the dirt, hitting, kicking, and biting at one another. Rayner hovered over him and tried to get his fingers into Oliver’s eyes, but a quick jab to his side knocked the wind out of his lungs and spared Oliver his sight. The space was enough for Oliver to push Rayner off him. Oliver scrambled away, but a stab of pain in his leg stopped him with a scream. He turned to find Rayner had the knife lodged deep in his calf.

  Searing pain rushed up his leg and Oliver immediately attempted to kick Rayner away with the other. The older man dodged it and slashed at the offending limb, leaving a gash. Oliver tried to crawl away. Again his leg was caught, not with a blade, but Rayner’s hand. He dragged Oliver back and raised the knife high over his head. Oliver fumbled for the pistol at his hip.

  Rayner noticed his attempts and brought the knife down. Oliver abandoned the gun and raised his hands above him to shield his body from the blade. Rayner tried to press down with his body weight. Oliver raised a knee and kicked him in the groin. Rayner groaned with pain and his hand loosened enough for Oliver to knock the knife away.

  His enemy’s pain was short-lived. He grabbed for Oliver’s throat and started to choke him.

  Oliver gasped for breath, his fingers scratching at Rayner’s hands as he continued to squeeze the life from him. Oliver’s hand once more fumbled for the gun at his hip. He got it out of the holster and attempted to bring it up.

  Rayner’s hands left his throat and reached for the gun. He growled with determination. Oliver did the same as they struggled for the weapon.

  “You’re gonna die today boy!” Rayner yelled.

  Oliver’s eyes rang with the beating of his heart. “No, I won’t!”

  “I’m gonna kill you, and when I’m done, I’m gonna kill that pretty little thing of yours,” Rayner continued.

  Anger immediately rushed through Oliver’s veins, giving him strength. He pushed his arms up, turning the gun in his hands away from his body and toward Rayner.

  “Die!” the other man roared as he leaned down with all of his weight. The gun began to turn back to Oliver.

  No!

  His hands trembled with strain as Oliver tried to keep the gun away from his body. Back and forth it went between them, Oliver’s hand near the trigger and Rayner’s hand battling it.

  “Oliver!” Melvin’s voice called from somewhere in the dark. Oliver didn’t have a chance to revel in the relief of his old friend’s presence. He was battling for his life and he was afraid he might lose.

  “He can’t help you,” Rayner declared as sweat caused Oliver’s finger to slip from the trigger, leaving the place free for Rayner to take hold.

  “No!” Oliver yelled as his hand tried to regain control. It was too late. The gun turned. In one last effort, fear propelling him, Oliver closed his hand over Rayner’s and pushed up as the sound of two loud cracks erupted from between their bodies.

  “Oliver!” Melvin cried out as Oliver registered the heat against his stomach.

  His eyes looked up at Rayner. The cold, dark stare that met him, the malevolent grin on his face. Oliver would never forget it.

  “I told you that you were gonna die today,” Rayner whispered coldly.

  Oliver’s heart stampeded. Was this the end? If it was, he had one consolation. Melvin would never let Rayner live for taking his life. Amelia would be safe. That was what was most important.

  His heart began to slow as his limbs became heavy. Rayner continued to grin down at him. He spat in Oliver’s face. “Goodbye,” he hissed.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Amelia stood in horror as the sound of the gunshot filled the air, followed by the smell of burning fabric and flesh. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move. Her legs were free of their bonds but it was if they were chained to the spot where she now stood.

  When the horse had begun to shuffle outside, she feared that Oliver was near. She feared he had come for her and Rayner would enact his terrible plan against him. Now, she feared it was complete. Then Rayner slumped over.

  “Oliver!” she cried as her feet ignited and then took flight and dashed toward the two men. She reached Oliver moments later and tumbled to her knees in the earth beside him, Rayner’s limp body half obscuring him from view. She wanted to push him out of the way, but her hands remained tied behind her back. “Oliver,” she cried again. She couldn’t see his face and he wasn’t moving. She feared the worst.

  Oliver’s groan brought a sigh of relief to her lips.

  “Oliver!” she wept.

  There was another groan and Rayner’s body began to stir. Amelia’s heart stuttered in her chest as a moment of fear filled her. Then, Rayner’s corpse rolled away as Oliver pushed it off. He looked up at her. The gun lay on his chest; blood marred the steel and saturated his shirt. There was so much blood that she couldn’t tell if it was from him or Rayner only.

  Amelia’s lips parted in silent question.

  “It’s not mine,” Oliver stated before she could find her words.

  Sobs shook Amelia’s body as relief overwhelmed her. Oliver was fine. The horror was over. She fell back onto the dirt, and her head lolled forward as her tears shook her like a quake.

  “It’s all right,” Oliver tried to sit upright. Soon, his strong arms wrapped around her shoulders as he pulled her close. Amelia, weakened by fear and emotion, rested her head on Oliver’s chest and cried openly. It was too much. Everything she held in came rushing out—her terror, the hurt, and the love she bore for him could no longer be contained.

  “I thought you were dead,” she wept.

  “I’m not…”

  “He kept saying he’d kill you,” Amelia interrupted. “He said that he’d kill me first and make you watch,” she continued undeterred. “He kept telling me what he’d do. Over and over again.”

  “Hush,” Oliver soothed. She could feel his hand on her head as he stroked her hair rhythmically. “It’s over.” His hands moved from her hair to her hands, loosening her bonds.

  Amelia wrapped her arms around him immediately. She raised her head and looked up. “Why did this happen?”

  A forlorn look washed over his expression. “Because of my Pop.” Oliver hung his head as he sighed deeply. “He wasn’t…he wasn’t who you might think.”

  “Ollie…” Melvin said softly from somewhere nearby.

  Amelia didn’t look at him. Her attention was solely on Oliver. She held her breath as he began to tell her the truth she longed to hear.

  Oliver glanced in Melvin’s direction. He nodded slowly and then turned his attention back to her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” he apologized. “I know I should have, but I didn’t. I was afraid and angry, and because of it, I tried to hide the truth. If I hadn’t, we might never have been here.”

  “What are you talking about?” she rasped.

  Oliver shook his head. He glanced toward Rayner’s body. “Not here,” he answered. “Let’s get you home.”

  Amelia’s brown eyes stared at Rayner’s lifeless form. She nodded silently and allowed Oliver to help her to her feet. She held onto him, her fingers wrung deep into the material of his clothing. Even though Rayner was clearly dead, the fear he’d birthed inside her wasn’t.

  “Come, Miss Amelia,” Melvin encouraged. “Let’s go home.”

  “I’ve got her,” Oliver stated. “Can you get my horse so we can ride back? I left it in Boulder Crag,” he informed Melvin. At Boulder Crag was a deep ravine that lay between Glenore and the abandoned house. It lay at the bottom of a steep hill overlooking a creek. The area was filled with tall trees and large boulders. It was a favorite place of mountain lion
s in the winter, bears in the warmer months. Still, it was relatively safe for those who were accustomed to the area and the animals that frequented there.

  Melvin nodded. “I spotted it on my way here. I brought him with me. He’s tied up a mile that way.”

  Oliver smiled weakly. Amelia leaned against him. “Thank you,” Oliver replied. “Amelia?”

  “Yes?”

  He smiled. “Let’s go home.”