“Let’s get back home, fella,” he muttered. After giving the animal a nudge, the two of them set out for his home.
It was a shorter ride there than the length it had taken to get to the Everetts’ home. But it was hardly anything as nice. The trail was somewhat overgrown and always had new weeds cropping up that no one could remove them completely. It rounded a bend that made the wind whistle so shrill that even his horse still flinched at the sound when it hit them. Few folks headed out in this direction unless they were going to visit someone in particular.
There were only three homesteads before reaching his little home.
The first two were ranches. They were large and on either side of the road from one another. Both had big fences with houses in the distance. They were too far for anyone to feasibly see anyone from those porches. He remembered thinking that he had seen a person or two there before out in the fields. He had waved to try and be a nice neighbor. But upon looking closer, Chester had realized it was a scarecrow. He had stopped waving after that.
Yet he did wave to the Bretts.
He would always wave to them, even if he couldn’t see them inside the house. Arthur and Betty had been great neighbors from the very first day of his arrival. The two of them were growing old, but were as spunky as ever. He often joined them in working on projects around their house, or they would talk over their fence while the three of them gardened on their respective properties.
Every Sunday without fail, they invited him to supper. For the first couple of nights, he would try to bring something to share. But he learned quickly that they didn’t need any such thing. Instead, they merely wanted the company. So he returned the favor in any way he could, from sharing his vegetables to fixing their leaky roof.
“Good afternoon, Chester,” Betty called from her doorway. She leaned outside to give him an enthusiastic wave. “You were gone all day! Where have you been?”
He chuckled at her nosiness. She liked to know everything, even if the knowledge did nothing to help her or change anything. “Hello, Betty. I was out running errands. I bought the nails. It’s getting late, but I’ll get to your roof first thing in the morning. Is that all right?”
The older woman offered a cheerful smile. She had gray and white hair piled loosely on top of her head. The woman still held herself up tall and straight with the kindest eyes. “That sounds swell. Don’t come too early, Chester. If you come too early, then the sun isn’t up. And then you won’t be able to see, which means you can’t get on the roof. I won’t have you falling off my roof, young man. Do you understand?”
It was hard to suppress another chuckle. Chester climbed off his horse before giving her a strong nod. “Yes, ma’am. I will make sure it’s nice and bright out.”
She beamed. “Wonderful! That’s good to hear. Good night then, Chester!”
“Good night,” he waved.
“Arthur says good night, too!”
“Tell Arthur I said good night,” Chester added, and then paused at his gate to listen in case the Bretts had anything more for him to say.
When there was quiet, Chester continued on to take care of his horse for the evening. The animal was brushed down, fed, and put in the pen before the sun had set. After that, Chester headed back inside where he sat down at the table and sighed.
There was still daylight, but he was tired. He sighed and leaned back as he ran over the day’s events again. Much of it still felt like a strange dream to him. He wondered if Blossom was real. And if she was real, he hoped that she was well and safe. Hopefully her father would be, too.
Chester was still full from the meal, and that’s how he decided it had really happened. His stomach was full. He was still smiling.
The pretty young lady and her sick father. He locked the doors and prayed that Blossom was safe like she claimed to be. She had to be. She deserved a safe life, a good life, without the problems that she was already facing.
Too full for another meal, Chester lit a candle and took it to his room where he could settle down for the evening. It wasn’t much of a bedroom. There was a cot for his bed, a small table for a nightstand, and an old crate he kept for his few belongings.
But it wasn’t much.
He had learned to live ready to move at any second, learning to live on as little as necessary. His parents had never let him keep toys growing up. That’s what he had done with Elijah. And now, he worried he might have to take off at any second.
So Chester didn’t want to be weighed down. Besides, there wasn’t anything he wanted to hold onto.
He laid down in his bed as he thought of the pretty blonde. She had been very pretty and kind.
There was something tender and charming about Blossom. He liked the idea of seeing her again. Blossom was sweet and kind. He could always turn it into a happy accident of meeting one another again in town.
For a minute, Chester almost got his hopes up. But then he put them away. He didn’t deserve them. Blossom had her own life. There was no reason for her to want to see him again.
And even if she did, the young lady lived far on the other side of town, which made it very inconvenient.
They hadn’t run into each other before all this time, so why would they do it again?
Chester took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He couldn’t help but remember his childhood with his father telling him to concentrate on his work because no one would ever care.
But his father had to be wrong.
He told himself that he didn’t have to think about his father ever again if he didn’t want to. There were more pleasant things in life other than that man.
Instead of those unpleasant memories, Chester spent the rest of the evening trying to remember every part of the pretty Blossom Everett.
Chapter Eight
Blossom’s Curiosity
Blossom slept at the foot of her father’s bed that night, too worried to leave him alone.
Not that she really slept at first. She tried, but flinched at every noise and jumped at every movement. It took her finding all the pillows and the blankets in her home to pile together to grow comfortable enough to settle down.
He had only woken up for a few minutes during daylight, where he was confused and wanted a drink of water. He drained a whole glass before falling right back to sleep.
The man’s soft snore continued through the entire night and helped her sleep until sunrise. That reassuring snore, along with all the pillows and blankets, kept her put so she could get her sleep.
Then she was up, heart pumping and ready to go.
While her father remained in bed, Blossom went about to handle the chores for the brand-new day. She boiled water for porridge, fed the animals, pulled a few vegetables they could use for supper from the garden, and tidied up the house.
After washing her hands, she went to check on her father who was fixing his clothes for the day.
“Father!” Blossom hurried over in a panic. She hadn’t noticed he was up or awake. “I never heard you get up. You should have called for me!”
Running to his side, she stopped him from grabbing his clothes and gestured to them. But he only took them back by his side and got the shirt one.
He harrumphed. “I’m not a child, Blossom. There’s no need to worry about me. I’m your father, after all.”
Blossom paced around the room as she tried to remain calm. It wasn’t like he had been conscious the other day when everything had happened. He didn’t know what it had been like when she had been afraid that he was dying.
She gave a pointed look as she tugged at the vest he was struggling to get an arm through. If only she knew how to make him understand.
“Yes, you are. Which is exactly why I do worry for you,” she added helpfully. “Besides, I’m not the one who had a horrible fall yesterday. I was so worried for you all day and through the night.”
Once the vest was on, her father looked up at her and patted her hands. “You don’t need to worry any longer. I’m j
ust fine, as you can see. I can walk, talk, and button my own vest.”
That only irritated her. She loved her father, even through his obstinate ways. Blossom shook her head as she pushed his hands away. “You’re much too stubborn for your own good,” she told him. “Let me help you, Father. The doctor ordered you to get as much rest as possible. I don’t know why you’re even trying to get out of bed.”
“School, my child,” he reminded her patiently. It was almost as though she were being silly and not him. “I have the children to teach. What do you think would happen if I didn’t show up? Mayhem, Blossom. And we can’t have that.”
She considered tying him to the bed. That would keep him there. But that was probably going too far.
Instead, she blocked the doorway while he put his shoes back on. He won’t go anywhere if I don’t let him. Blossom’s chest tightened at the thought of him falling again. Or something worse could befall him. Her eyes followed his every move and could see how slow he had become. It looks as though he aged ten years overnight.
“It’s better than having you suffer,” Blossom shook her head, pleading with him. “It’s the doctor’s orders, Father. He said you need to rest as much as possible. Just for the rest of the week. Or- or even today. Aren’t you tired? Surely you can stay put today and we can- we can do whatever you like.”
He was more stubborn than she had supposed. Her father insisted on leaving the bedroom and going about his business.
When Blossom couldn’t stop him, she insisted on staying right by his side. She couldn’t resist him when he was so passionate. She wished she could, but his love for his students was too sweet.
If she couldn’t get him to do just what she wanted, then she supposed they would have to compromise along the way. It’s not ideal, but perhaps this will do.
“You don’t need to,” he told her when she explained his options. “I can go and teach on my own like I always have.”
But she shook her head. She could be as stubborn as him if she tried hard enough. “You either stay in bed or I’m coming with you. Those are your only options today, Father. Now, finish your porridge before you do anything.”
The man grumbled and furrowed his bushy eyebrows. But, much to Blossom’s relief, grudgingly picked his spoon back up and finished his bowl. Perhaps he would gain some strength then.
He cleaned up as she put out the fire. Though she tried to get him to change his mind one more time, it didn’t work.
Soon they were on their way into town. The two of them walked with Merryweather trailing behind them. Blossom had tried to convince her father to ride her horse, or they could even borrow one from any of their neighbors, but he had refused. He hadn’t wanted to bother anyone, he claimed. So she brought her own horse along just in case her father grew weary.
“Stop ogling me,” her father sighed as they headed down the lane. “I can feel you staring, Blossom. And I can assure you that I feel just fine. Young and spry and fine.”
Blossom furrowed her brow as she ignored his words. They always got along so well, but her father was never a happy man when he was ill. “You’re walking slower than usual. Are you sure you don’t want to turn back?”
“No, but you can,” he glanced over at her with a wry smile.
She rolled her eyes and let the topic die between them. They walked quietly down the road and into the town. It was still bright and early, so it wasn’t too warm out yet. She appreciated that. The day was already beautiful with a bold blue sky and not a cloud to be found. Blossom hoped that was a good sign.
The schoolhouse was up on the hill overlooking most of town. It was a slow trek with her father that morning which allowed her the chance to look behind her and study the nearby streets. They weren’t too busy yet since it was early. But she liked looking around to see what was still familiar and if there was anyone she recognized.
She noticed Chester rolling into town on a wagon. There were two people there with him as well. It took her a minute to realize it was the Bretts. They were a lovely little couple. Blossom’s heart skipped a beat as she looked back at Chester. As if he could feel her gaze, he looked up at her and waved.
Blossom gasped and turned to her father. “There he is! That’s Chester. Father, he’s the one who helped you yesterday. Would you like to go talk to him?”
He was busy unlocking the schoolhouse door. Without bothering to look, he shook his head. “Class will start soon. I’ll have to do it later. Thank him for me, would you?”
Blossom nodded and hurriedly made her way down the trail. Merryweather followed obediently for most of the way, though she jerked her head at a few sweet looking trees that they passed. But she gave up easily enough and soon Blossom had reached Chester where he had brought the wagon up to the general store.
“Good morning,” she burst breathlessly.
Chester looked up with wide eyes. The young man glanced around as though he were surprised she had come over to him. But the look of doubt faded quickly. He tipped his hat before jumping down off the wagon. “Good morning, Blossom. I was hoping I would see you again. I mean, it’s nice to see you again. How are you?”
Smiling, she tugged at Merryweather who was probably looking to get into trouble again. Blossom tried to constrain her own enthusiasm. There’s no reason to be so excited right now. What is wrong with me?
She couldn’t put the smile away as she quickly answered, “Well, and so is my father. He insisted on teaching today. I tried to stop him, but I’m afraid he’s quite a stubborn man. Merryweather and I came to keep him company in case anything happens.”
“You named your horse?” Chester’s eyes crinkled up as he turned to her animal. “Hello, Merryweather.” He slowly reached out to touch Merryweather. After he had blown softly into her nostrils, he started patting her nose. “She’s a fine animal. And I’m glad to hear your father is up and well again.”
For a moment, she was worried he would find the act of naming her horse childlike. But he didn’t. Beaming, Blossom nodded as Chester focused on her horse, checking out the animal. Most folks did, since her horse was so lovely.
Her mare had beautiful coloring and a fine build. Though she didn’t know much about horses, everyone liked to tell her this was the case with hers. She was just grateful to have such a lovely creature for companionship.
As she watched Chester check out the animal, she caught movement from the corner of her eyes.
The day was growing older as people began to open up their shops and mill around. Nathanial Parks who ran the barbershop glanced around nearby before wrinkling his nose at Chester. Two men headed to the barbershop slowed down to give Chester dirty looks as well.
She couldn’t help but wonder what that was for. It was like all of town had decided that he was not a good person. It didn’t make any sense. So she shook her head and turned back to Chester who had returned to petting Merryweather’s nose.
“She’s lovely,” he noted.
Blossom smiled with a nod. “She certainly is; thank you.”
“So your father is feeling better? Did the two of you walk here again?” Chester crossed his arms with a furrowed brow. Though she had hardly spent very long with him, she was beginning to wonder if that’s simply how he always looked.
There was something rather melancholic about Chester. She had been so preoccupied with her worries about her father the other day that she hadn’t had a lot of time to think about it. But it was easier to see clearly now. It was in those dark brown eyes of his that made her wonder what had happened to bring such a heavy weight down onto his shoulders.
“We did,” Blossom sighed despondently as she shook her head. “I did my best to restrain him, but my father certainly has a mind of his own. Especially when it comes to his students. He’s very passionate about his teaching. Sometimes I come to town just to make sure he’s taking time to eat during the day.”
He nodded while listening carefully. “That’s very kind of you. He’s very fortunate to have you,
Blossom,” he assured her.
When he looked at her, there was something about his face that made it look like he wanted to smile. But what came out was more of a wince. Blossom cocked her head to consider him carefully. Her father had her, but who did Chester have?
Her eyes drifted down to his hands to look for a ring. She hadn’t thought there had been one on his hand the day before, nor was there one then. She bit her lip and thought of the Bretts who she had seen him with. The couple hardly made it into town, but could often be seen attending church. Perhaps she could ask them about Chester the next time she saw them.
Or she could try to learn more from him on her own. Blossom tried to think of something to say, finding that she didn’t want to leave him just yet. He could use something that would cheer him up. Only she had to figure out what it might be first.
A Deal with the Cowboy’s Tangled Heart: A Historical Western Romance Book Page 7