Redemption In Red Desert: A Clean Western Historical Romance Novel

by Ember Pierce

  * * *

  “All the littles want to say things to you, as well,” Bonny read. She giggled a bit through her tears. Leave it to Katie to lump all of their younger siblings into one group.

  * * *

  Bonny could tell that by that point her sister was ready to be done writing. “But they can’t settle down long enough to tell me what to write.

  * * *

  “So, here is what I can say. They are all rambunctious and they do not listen.”

  * * *

  Shaking her head, all Bonny could think was that she didn’t feel all that sorry for Katie. Now the younger girl knew what it felt like to have someone just blatantly ignore you.

  * * *

  She didn’t want to wish the hardships she had experienced on Katie, but it made Bonny feel good to know that she hadn’t been overreacting.

  * * *

  “We all hope that you will write us back, even though we know how busy you must be settling into your new life. I want to hear everything about your new husband, your new home, your new town.

  * * *

  “We all want to hear about your train journey. Just tell us everything. With much love, your family.”

  * * *

  Bonny stared at Katie’s sign-off with a smile. There was a flourish to the penmanship, which there hadn’t been back when Bonny had been overseeing her education.

  * * *

  None of them had been able to go to school for long or all that often. Bonny was proud of Katie for continuing to practice.

  * * *

  That girl was going to make something of her life; she wouldn’t be stuck in Philadelphia. The thought made Bonny feel good, but also so terribly homesick.

  * * *

  She didn’t try to stem the tears that were coursing down her cheeks. She just sat by the fire, sobbing.

  * * *

  Her parents really had been doing the best they could. They both worked so hard at jobs that exhausted them. The fact that they hadn’t had a lot of time with their children must have hurt them over the years.

  * * *

  Bonny had never really thought about that.

  * * *

  Standing up abruptly, Bonny felt the back of the rocking chair knock against her leg, causing her to wince in pain.

  * * *

  She needed to write back immediately, but she realized there was no paper in the house. She would have to borrow some from Mrs. Downing. Surely, they had some up there.

  * * *

  When Bonny got to the front door, she realized it had gotten quite dark, which meant it was later than she had realized. How long had it taken her to read the letter?

  * * *

  There were still lights on at the Downing house, but she didn’t want to disturb them.

  * * *

  Shutting the door behind her, Bonny sank back down into her rocking chair. She felt miserable, and she didn’t know how to make the feeling go away.

  * * *

  All she wanted was to sink into a hole so that she didn’t have to deal with the churning going on inside of her right now.

  * * *

  Bonny banked the fire and turned down the lamps before heading into the bedroom. She placed her candle on the bedside table, watching the shadows that danced on the wall.

  * * *

  Once she blew out the candle, everything would be so dark. She hadn’t noticed the past few nights, because she had been so angry and exhausted.

  * * *

  Now, though, her mind was dancing to all the dark places.

  * * *

  The dark made her feel so lonely. Missing her family made her feel so lonely.

  * * *

  There was a black void gaping open inside her and she didn’t know how to close it or fill it. All she wanted to do now was to sink into sleep.

  * * *

  Yet, as she climbed into bed, she suddenly felt like she was wide awake.

  * * *

  Pulling the quilt up to her chin, Bonny let her eyes adjust to the pitch black. Soon, she could make out the outlines of all the furniture in the room from the dim glow of the moon coming through the window.

  * * *

  That made her feel slightly better, but as she rolled over to the empty space beside her, another wave of sadness overtook her. She suddenly felt very lonely.

  * * *

  Yes, Kristian was her husband and they were together, thank goodness, but he was alone sleeping on the cold ground. At least she was in a warm bed, but she wanted him to be by her side.

  * * *

  She sat up and leaned back against the bed railing. Thoughts of Kristian filled her mind. He was never far from her thoughts.

  * * *

  At the same time, she thought the situation a bit ironic. During her childhood, she had never been in an empty bed. At that time, it was beyond her imagination.

  * * *

  Now that she was married, she was in an empty bedroom while her husband hunted for a killer. Her predicament was made to order for the saying, “Life is unpredictable.”

  * * *

  Things were moving very swiftly, so swiftly that she hadn’t had time enough to think.

  * * *

  She had shown courage today that she hadn’t known she had. Even in Graves O’hara’s office, his home territory, with a man who could have been a bodyguard in the other office, she had won the verbal struggle.

  * * *

  She didn’t let O’hara intimidate her. He’d thrown her arguments and she’d thrown them right back, and hurled some extras of her own.

  * * *

  He’d made an implicit threat at her, and she had not let that intimidate her. But the actions of the man had infuriated her.

  * * *

  Through circumstances that happened before she arrived at Red Desert, O’hara had gotten his influence over Kristian and he had been caught in that endless cycle of drinking and gambling and going more and more into debt.

  * * *

  It was one of those cycles that were very difficult to break. And O’hara had used it for all it was worth—at least a couple of hundred dollars, and probably more.

  * * *

  So, what was O’hara’s end game? She wondered if she should talk to the sheriff. Technically, she guessed he had not done anything wrong.

  * * *

  Even card-dealer Wes had not done anything illegal. All he had done was play poker, which was legal in Red Desert and the state of Wyoming.

  * * *

  And O’hara had done nothing illegal. He’d loaned money to a man. That was not against the law.

  * * *

  Even the actions of O’hara and Wes, taken together, were not a crime. Both had participated in legal activities. There could be no criminal prosecution for that.

  * * *

  Residents who knew the whole story might condemn the two for unethical behavior, but there probably could be no legal action taken against them.

  * * *

  Still, she still might chat with the sheriff. He might at least have a suggestion or two, and perhaps give a warning to the two men involved.

  * * *

  Her thoughts moved back to Kristian. She wanted to see him come riding back into town, with or without the outlaw.

  * * *

  Just come home, Kristian, she found herself thinking. We can worry about the money problem later.

  * * *

  She shook her head. That was another odd thing. O’hara had gone to a lot of trouble for what, to him, must be a little money.

  * * *

  She thought he might have had something else in mind, something that involved Kristian, but what could it be? She was not a devious woman.

  * * *

  In this case, that was a handicap, because she couldn’t think of any devious schemes that might involve her husband. But it was something.

  * * *

  She got up and walked around the house. She lit one of the lanterns and saw the light flow th
rough the house.

  * * *

  She walked over to the main chair in the living room, a small table set behind it. On the table was a Bible, burgundy red.

  * * *

  She gave a wry smile. Perhaps she should have started here first, reading the scriptures instead of worrying.

  * * *

  During her childhood, they did not go to church regularly—once in a while, though, the five or six or seven members of the family did march into the church.

  * * *

  There was a running joke in the congregation that every time the family entered the church door, there was a new member. The priest had tried to help her father with his drinking but was not successful.

  * * *

  Her dad was stubborn, but the church had still helped them during difficult times.

  * * *

  She always knew where their Christmas gifts came from—there was no Santa Claus, but there were a number of decent, lovely people at the church who knew there would be no Christmas at the Wrightman household unless a few good people contributed presents.

  * * *

  There were other occasional gifts during the year. That was one reason she always had appreciated churches.

  * * *

  She knew there had been times that, if not for churches, her brothers and sisters would have gone hungry.

  * * *

  She sat down in the church and opened the Bible. She wondered for a moment if prayer actually worked.

  * * *

  Yes, she had been in churches when prayer was said, but she had a feeling it was done out of routine and not out of conviction.

  * * *

  Well, the prayers she heard were not said with much conviction. Most of the people said prayers as if they expected them not to be answered. And saying prayers that one expected to be answered was a waste of time.

  * * *

  Perhaps that was a question she should have asked the pastor this morning. He had definitely helped her during their session, although it may not have been theological help.

  * * *

  The pastor must have suspected something when he asked for the name of Kristian’s poker partners. That was what had given her the idea.

  * * *

  She’d put two and two together and came up with a full house. She smiled. She sort of liked the poker analogy.

  * * *

  Then she shook her head. After a very short time in the west, she was already wondering if she should take a drink and making allusions to card games.

  * * *

  She realized with a start that, while events had gone well this afternoon, she was in over her head. She wasn’t prepared to deal with a man such as Graves O’hara.

  * * *

  Way over her head. She opened the scriptures and began reading silently. A line in First Peter seemed to leap out at her.

  * * *

  “Cast your cares on the Lord, for He cares for you.” She smiled and closed the book.

  * * *

  “I suppose that’s very good advice,” she said.

  * * *

  She returned to her bed, stretched out and went to sleep.

  27

  He woke up at the morning light. Light snow was falling. It had already covered his blanket and the ground around him.

  * * *

  Just a trace, so far, but as he rose up, heavier snow began to fall. A few bits hung on the trees overhead.

  * * *

  He readily fixed some firewood and lit it. In a short time, he had a fire going and hung a coffee pot over it. He smiled as he saw the snow fall.

  * * *

  “Good, good. Keep going,” he said.

  * * *

  A man was easier to track in the snow, and this was the perfect level of accumulation. Hoofs showed easily at his level of snow.

  * * *

  There was not enough snow to hide the earlier hoof prints. If the snow was heavy, it might cover up the prints in fifteen minutes or less.

  * * *

  Kristian figured he would have close to forty-five minutes to find a random hoofprint. A quick cup of coffee and he would be off. He wasn’t going to even cook breakfast.

  * * *

  The evergreens trapped some of the snow in the branches. It may have been a lovely sight, but today he was more interested in an ugly, human sight.

  * * *

  He waited until the coffee pot was hot then poured a cup. He was used to cooking coffee on the trail and all he could say was the coffee wasn’t as bad as he had expected.

  * * *

  He took another sip and thought there might be another benefit of the snow today. Some cowpokes didn’t like to travel in snow if they didn’t have to.

  * * *

  There was a higher chance of some type of accident in snow, and the outlaw may want to be careful to avoid mishaps. There were no doctors out this way.

  * * *

  If he had an accident he could easily die of the cold. If the weather turned colder, that is.

  * * *

  He figured the weather was about twenty degrees this morning, but it would warm up. Not cold enough to freeze anyone.

  * * *

  After swallowing all the coffee, he tossed some snow on the fire to drench it out and climbed into the saddle. If he was right, his prey wouldn’t be far away.

  * * *

  His horse was a black and white mare named Hawk. She glided smoothly through the snow. Kristian lifted a pair of binoculars to his eyes and stared at the landscape.

  * * *

  He saw nothing but trees and snow. It would be another five miles before he would break away onto the small trail he wanted.

  * * *

  It was something of a long shot, but he thought there was a chance he’d find the outlaw where he expected him. The bounty was high enough to catch the attention of some professional bounty hunters, but he saw no one else in the wilderness.

  * * *

  That was fine with him. He didn’t want any competition.

  * * *

  He wondered how much time it took for the state to pay the bounty. A week? Two weeks?

  * * *

  He had heard it didn’t take long for the money to get to the bounty hunter, and he hoped that was the case.

  * * *

  He patted Hawk as the mare walked slowly and steadily. Many horses could get spooked or startled. But Hawk was as steady as any horse he had ever seen.

  * * *

  Light showed over the hills and trees now, but he had seen only one pair of hooves in the snow. Which was what he had expected.

  * * *

  If you didn’t have to go out in a snowstorm, even a minor one, you didn’t go out.

  * * *

  A slight wind was stirring, blowing a bit of the snow off the leaves. Except for the evergreens, snow tended to stick to the evergreens’ thin leaves.

  * * *

  He had been on a couple of trail drives and on his long solo rides, he adopted one of the drovers’ techniques to cope with the boredom. They sang to the cattle.

  * * *

  Cattle, like the horses, could get spooked, and the last thing drovers wanted was stampeding cattle. No matter how bad the cowboy singing it, it tended to calm the cows, and calm cows did not stampede.

  * * *

  Hawk had never objected to his singing, which he thought was rather polite of her. Or maybe she just liked good singing.

  * * *

  He’d brought some hardtack along and he munched a biscuit as he rode. He had seen no sign of a rider, but if he was a wanted man, he’d be very careful about any trail he left too.