Chester focused his attention on the trail again as he followed her along. Though he wasn’t sure how far he would walk with her, he didn’t want to stop just yet. Perhaps he would walk her until her home was in sight.
There was nothing else he needed to tend to for the day, so making sure she got home safely might be best.
And yet, they were hardly passing the town. The two of them had greatly slowed down, so they were hardly making any distance. With the nearest street a half mile to their right, they had just then passed them along. If he turned around, he would still see the Bretts’ home surrounded by their trees.
While a tender quiet settled in between them, Chester forced himself to pull himself together.
They walked slowly through the brush as he reminded himself that all was not lost. Clearly there were people who would treat him like a human being. Even if it was only Blossom, then he could accept that.
As long as there was her, ready to listen and understand. No one had ever done that before.
He was still marveling over what had just happened when an itch built in his left shoulder.
Though Chester scratched at it, the sensation wouldn’t go away. The relaxation that had started to cross over his body paused, not progressing but not feeling worse. He felt well even as he noticed the darkening of the sky and how far they really were from town and other people.
Usually that was just what he wanted. But now it felt strange. He couldn’t understand it. Chester glanced around warily, wondering what was going on. Perhaps he was going crazy.
“Chester?”
He had stopped walking. Scratching his head, he glanced around. The itch was beginning to spread. He hadn’t felt it for some time and was having a hard time remembering what it meant. But then he did. He always had that feeling, big or small, when he was being watched.
“I…” Chester started to say, but he didn’t finish.
Instead, he turned over to look at Blossom’s horse. The ears were standing at attention, turning as it tuned in to a noise that the humans couldn’t hear. Or they just hadn’t noticed.
Suddenly a heavy sensation rammed against his ribs as he realized the odd feeling. He looked around wildly, checking his surroundings. His body’s heightened senses began to grow. Then he turned back to the young horse that shifted its weight.
Alarm shocked Chester into action.
He didn’t have words for the trouble, only that he had to trust his gut. Even if he didn’t trust that, he could trust the horse. The animal knew something was nearby. Though there was always time to explore what it could be, that wasn’t a risk he wanted to take. Once again, he didn’t have a gun strapped to his waist, without any other way to protect himself and Blossom.
Chester regretted that, reminding himself he always needed to wear one, no matter where he was or what he was doing. He couldn’t put her at risk.
Chester didn’t know what else could be done. Something was there. He ran over to her to grab her hand.
“Run!” he cried out loudly. “Let’s go!”
There wasn’t time for her to speak as he jerked her into action. A gasp escaped her lips, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she jumped to attention and started moving alongside him. With her horse’s reins in her other hand, Blossom stumbled once and righted herself to start moving.
Something or someone was behind them. He could feel it in his heart. Someone was there.
He didn’t care much about what happened to him. That was the first time he had considered what could happen. Except there wasn’t time to focus on the question, nor did he want to waste precious time. Instead, Chester tugged Blossom forward as he kept his eyes and ears open.
Something was out there, and it might be looking for him.
Chapter Sixteen
Blossom’s Strength
Blossom didn’t understand.
He had grabbed her hand and told her to start moving. She didn’t know what else to do but obey. There had been a tightness to his voice. It had compelled her to jump to attention and start moving.
She didn’t stop, her breath growing tight and constricted as she forced herself to put one foot ahead of another. It frustrated her as she felt slow, Chester tugging at her to move faster. He glanced around but hardly had the time to look at her. She was struggling to keep moving.
Her arms and legs ached. With one hand holding onto Chester and the other on her horse who was confused, Blossom felt her strength fading quickly.
After all, Chester had told her to run. He had noticed something behind them. Perhaps a coyote or something, Blossom didn’t know. It could be a dog with rabies or an imaginary creature. Though she doubted the latter. Chester was a good man constantly trying to do the right thing. If he told her to run, then she would immediately begin moving.
Fear gripped her tightly. It threatened to strangle her.
She didn’t know what they were doing, not really. She wanted to look. Though she trusted Chester, she wanted to know what they were running from. But she couldn’t seem to turn her head over her shoulder to look at whatever it could be.
Chester had seen something, or heard something, and immediately began moving. He was a good man and wouldn’t do this for any other reason than to keep her safe.
It was strange how much she trusted him. She couldn’t bring herself to stop. Chester wore his heart on his sleeve before, honest and hopeful. She could see in his eyes how badly he wanted to be seen as a decent human being.
All he needed was a little validation, a little friendship. That could go a long way with a person.
Just as she was trying to think of something, she could do to help Chester, a shot rang out.
Blossom collapsed in the dirt, not certain if she was in pain or just surprised. She had heard the shot so clearly that it wasn’t possible to ignore. Having fallen, she dropped both her horse's reins and Chester’s hands. Dust pillowed all around her and she coughed, fighting for breath. Her ribs ached along with her right arm where she had put too much pressure from the fall on there.
A shot.
Her body stiffened. That was definitely a bullet. Quickly she considered her faculties and knew she was all right.
She blinked, forcing herself up a little bit with both arms. Choking through the dust, Blossom found herself caught in the memory of when she was attacked in the alley with her mother. She could still hear her mother’s scream. Her chest tightened when she tried to breathe, making it much more difficult.
Gasping for breath, Blossom shook her head to try and snap out of the painful memory. It did nothing but deliver more pain to her side. And she didn’t want that.
She blinked furiously as she glanced around to try and understand what had happened.
Everything was silent but for her gasping breaths.
She looked to her right to find Merryweather had moved a few yards away into some bushes, standing stiff and shaking. The poor creature wasn’t used to loud sounds either, apparently. But as Blossom looked, she decided that her horse was going to be just fine.
“Chester?” She rasped as she turned to her left.
Only a groan sounded as an answer. Blossom turned in confusion to look for him. He wasn’t right there beside her. Instead, he was a few feet behind her, lying on the ground. She thought she saw his hand move, but nothing else.
It took her a minute of running her hands all over her body to realize that she was fine. There would be some bruising, but nothing else she couldn’t handle. Then she crawled over to Chester, expecting him to be all right as well. But she froze at the sight of blood on his shoulder.
Blossom’s entire body locked up for a moment as she stared. She could even smell the scent. It was a smell that haunted her in her dreams on nights she wanted most to forget the pain that she had been through with her mother.
She tried to blink back the memories. Her head pounded as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.
“Chester?” she tried again.
&
nbsp; But he didn’t answer.
She swallowed hard and looked around. Her hair came undone as she shakily sat there, looking for whatever had come after them. Chester had known someone was there. She felt her mouth dry up as she tried to understand. It didn’t make sense why anyone would chase after them.
Remembering what Chester had told her thus far, she looked around fearfully. Was someone following them? Someone had to be there.
Were they watching them? Were they going to shoot? Her hair curled around her neck, causing an itch right under her earlobe. But she didn’t scratch it, breathlessly looking around for danger. The town was to one side with the prairie on the other.
Most of it was plains with several trees along the way to offer some shade. But all she could find moving was the leaves in the wind.
Another groan erupted from Chester. This time he was inhaling a deep breath as he tried to move. Blossom startled, pulled from her study of the trees. She could hear the pain in his voice. That’s when she decided she had to forget whoever might be out there. If they shot, then so be it.
But Chester was hurt and he needed help.
“Chester!” Blossom shakily finished crawling over to him. She put her hands on him and carefully turned him over onto his back.
He moaned, wincing before opening his eyes.
Her hands shook as she saw the front of his shirt staining as well. She wasn’t sure if she should touch it. Or him. She didn’t know what to do. Just like she had been useless when her father collapsed, Blossom was horrified to find herself in the same situation all over again.
Gasping for breath, she looked him over for any other injuries besides his arms. His hands looked scratched up, but that was all she could find. He must have used his palms to catch his fall.
She stared at him. Moisture fell on her hands and she wondered if it was raining. But there was nothing else damp around her.
Just the wet hands and stains on her cheeks. They were her tears and she hadn’t even realized she was crying. Blossom brushed them away in frustration.
“Go,” he managed without focusing his eyes. “You should go.”
Somehow his weakness helped her find her strength. Blossom shook her head as she thought quickly. They had to do something. Her hands hovered over the blood for a minute. Perhaps she could wait until someone came along. But at the same time, she knew how unlikely that was. This was something she would have to handle on her own.
Blossom took a deep breath and managed to stand up. It took her a moment of wavering before feeling confident to walk. She glanced around again, but nothing happened. There was no one around. Whoever had done this was nowhere to be found. Perhaps they wanted to stay secret that badly, or they had decided this was cruel enough. They must have been following after Chester to kill him.
She swallowed hard as she turned to him. He was beginning to focus his eyes. Looking at her, he managed a shallow breath before shaking his head.
“You should go,” he repeated.
“No,” she told him sternly. “Not without you. We’re going to get you up and- and we’ll take you home. To the Bretts,” Blossom added as the idea came to her. “They’ll be able to help, I’m sure of it. Come on. I’m going to get you up and- and you’ll be fine. Just you wait and see. You’ll be fine.”
He shook his head. “I’m too tired.” His words slurred. Chester was looking rather pale. When she leaned over, she saw the pool of blood beneath him growing bigger. The stench was too strong to ignore.
Her heart pounded loudly in her chest. She hadn’t been able to save her mother, Blossom thought, but surely she could save Chester. She had to be able to do something. It took her a moment to gather her courage. She tried to dry off the tears but they kept coming.
Sniffling, she bent back down, crouching beside Chester. She winced as one of her hands slipped over the shoulder where the blood was. It was horribly wet and sticky.
The other shoulder was still dry. Blossom groaned as she tried to make him sit up.
“Come on, Chester,” she growled. “You’re getting up, and I mean it.”
He mumbled something under his breath, but she couldn’t understand him. She was still fighting for breath as she looked around and found her horse nearby. With a slumped Chester leaning against her, she whistled to Merryweather. The young horse trotted over obediently but shied away. Most likely at the scent, for which Blossom couldn’t blame the poor creature.
But if she could get over it, so could the horse.
“I’m sorry,” Chester mumbled when she failed to pull him to his feet all on his own. “I can…”
“You have to,” Blossom told him pointedly. Her eyes trailed up to his face again only to find that he was whiter than a cloud on a sunny day. He wasn’t doing well. He wasn’t doing well at all. Blossom forced herself to stay strong. “Come on, Chester. You have to stand. I need your help. Up. Up!”
It worked. He wasn’t looking at her any longer, but he managed to stand on very shaky legs. When he leaned against her for balance, Blossom nearly toppled right over.
Even then, she had to grab her horse’s saddlehorn for strength before shifting Chester over toward the saddle.
It took a lot of heavy and slow maneuvering to get him into the saddle. By that time, Blossom was covered in so much sweat and tears that she couldn’t tell the two apart. She gasped for breath as she ran around her horse to make sure Chester was securely in the saddle.
He leaned forward toward Merryweather’s neck. The hand with the injured shoulder couldn’t do anything, but the other one clung to the pommel. She put a hand out to him, worried he was about to topple over at any second.
“Stay right there,” Blossom told him desperately. She thought he managed a nod, but his eyes had closed so she wasn’t sure if he was paying attention.
After trying to swallow the knot in her throat, Blossom grabbed her horse’s reins and prayed she could make this work. Chester had to get help fast.
They left behind a pool of blood as she carefully turned her horse around. The animal was a little antsy with a heavier load than usual, but she kept Merryweather calm as she tugged them back to the Bretts’ home.
“Please, Lord in Heaven, help us,” she prayed as they started walking. She had to find a new balance for this as she led while walking alongside her horse to keep Chester from falling over. His slumped posture said he didn’t want to go anywhere, but if his balance shifted in the wrong manner, then things could easily go from bad to worse. So, Blossom prayed as they walked. “I need you more than ever now to help me get to the Bretts safely. And please bless Chester so that he can be saved and protected.”
As she prayed, she thought of when her mother had died. She had passed away so quickly. By the time Blossom had gotten up to her feet and realized what had happened, it was too late. There was never even a chance to say goodbye. She would have done anything to have just a few minutes more with her mother. The only time she talked now was in one-sided conversations at her mother’s grave.
Her mother had loved to read Psalms in the Holy Bible, for it was her favorite book in the Old Testament. They had read several of them at the memorial service. Blossom recalled chapter three as she prayed. “Lord, how are they increased that trouble me! Many are they that rise up against me. Many there be which say of my soul, there is no help for him in God. But thou, O Lord, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head.”
Blossom squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, wishing the tears would stop. She continued thinking of the verses, finding hope and courage within them. ‘I cried unto the Lord with my voice, and he heard me out of his holy hill. I laid me down and slept; I awaked; for the Lord sustained me. I will not be afraid of ten thousand people, that have set themselves against me round about. Arise, O Lord, save me, O my God; for thou hast smitten all mine enemies upon the cheek bone; thou hast broken the teeth of the ungodly. Salvation belongeth unto the Lord: thy blessing is upon thy people.’
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��Please, Lord, protect Chester,” she prayed tersely. “Please. He is a good man. He deserves the chance at a good life. Please.”
When she opened her eyes, she could see the very top of the Bretts’ home.
Hope flooded her chest. They were so close. Now all they had to do was get Chester to safety. She felt strength make its way into her bosom as she tugged her horse along the trail. They were moving more confidently then, and that meant they were moving faster.
Soon they reached the Bretts’. She was weary and tense and Chester was hardly conscious with occasional moans.
Betty and Arthur were out the door running to her by the time she unlocked their property gate. They scrambled to help as though they weren’t elderly folks in their eighties.
A Deal with the Cowboy’s Tangled Heart: A Historical Western Romance Book Page 14