It was Betty who found some smelling salts that roused Chester enough for him to get to his feet. Blossom and Arthur each took a side as they led him inside. They set him on the ground before the fireplace before gathering blankets and pillows for the poor young man.
Though they decided that the wound wasn’t fatal, it was still serious enough to warrant immediate attention. The three of them scrambled around desperately to collect what they needed to help Chester. Blossom cleaned the wound as Betty ran to prepare him medicine and Arthur boiled hot water and found him clean clothes from his home next door.
Little was said as they all worked quickly to make sure he was going to be well. Every moment was tense and nearly unbearable as they ran around to collect what they needed.
Blossom appreciated the small tasks however, as petty as they might have been, for she could use a distraction. She couldn’t stop worrying about Chester. The memory of seeing him lying in a pool of blood had been very jarring.
So she ran around and cleaned, trying to erase that image in her mind. Chester deserved better than that.
Chapter Seventeen
Chester’s Angel
He dreamed that he could fly.
Flying all over the world, he saw the limitless mountains and valleys of green. There were prairies filled with buffalo and rivers surrounded by beautiful and colorful flowers. Animals danced and ran together harmoniously without a care. There were no worries, no trouble, and no pain.
As he flew, he came upon a small cottage overlooking the most peaceful of all valleys.
Landing softly on the trail outlined by white pebbles, he smiled as the door opened to reveal an angel. She smiled broadly at him as she urged him inside. There was another world inside the cottage just for them. Eagerly he followed.
The two of them walked into the cottage where peace settled in between them. There was the sensation of love and comfort in every corner, so strong that not a single word was needed. He smiled and she smiled. They had everything they could possibly need.
He blinked and it all disappeared.
Fear set in as he reached out for something to hold on. He had the strangest sensation of falling, but didn’t know how or where this could be happening. When he reached out his arms, suddenly the world returned. It was like nothing had ever happened. He dropped his arms. The angel winked at him as she brought out a delicious pie and set it down on the table for them.
It was nothing. He brushed off the odd occurrence and took a seat beside her.
They were in a better place. Whether it was heaven or another world, it didn’t matter. It was theirs. He cut the pie and handed her a piece. The angel beamed at him, thanking him with a nod.
Then he cut his own slice. But as he set his plate before him, the filling inside began to ooze out. Faster and faster it came until it was falling over the table. He didn’t know where it was all coming from. Panic gripped him as it filled his lap. He couldn’t escape it. The angel was gone and he was alone.
Suddenly there was nothing. There was only blackness before him. He tried to move, wanting to return to that peaceful place with the angel.
“Lord of the Heavens, please hear my prayers.”
The voice caught his attention.
Chester felt himself cocooned in the darkness, both cold and hot. He wrestled with it as though he fought an invisible enemy before him that didn’t want to let go of him. Though he felt the sweat on his brow and the beating of his heart, he struggled to sense anything else.
Until he heard the praying.
“Please, help him to be all right. He must wake up. Don’t let this wound injure him for good.”
He wondered vaguely who was wounded and what the wound was like. Perhaps it was a dull ache or something sharp. It could be caused from any number of things, like a gun or a blacksmith’s hammer.
Chester thought he smelled a whiff of iron.
Struggling to understand if he was awake or not, Chester tried to move. The world was dark and he continued wrestling. Nothing worked. He heard the sweet tender prayer before him. All he wanted to do was scream out desperately that he was just fine. That he was safe and well and alive. Nothing was wrong.
But he couldn’t do anything.
When the prayer ended, Chester worried that silence would reign and he would be lost forever. But then he felt a hand brush against him softly. It tingled, causing his heart to skip a beat. That was when he knew with a certainty that he was most definitely alive.
“Please, Chester,” the voice begged. “Please, wake up. Don’t die.”
He fought. He fought for himself and he fought for the voice. He didn’t want to stay in the darkness forever. A tingling sensation grew throughout his soul as he started to discover his body again.
At first it brought a sense of relief to find his limbs again. Then he found the wound that she had mentioned. There was a stabbing pain in his shoulder that was hot and intense.
Chester thought of crawling back into the darkness, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not when the voice was calling to him.
With one last ounce of strength, he managed to open his eyes.
The world was blurry at first. Chester blinked slowly as the world gradually came into focus. He squinted, finding an unfamiliar ceiling before him. There was the strangest sensation of being back in his body. It felt heavy and painful. His shoulder pounded as he tried to look around without moving his head. Glancing to his left, he noticed the Brett’s fireplace and realized he must be lying on their floor.
When he looked to his right, he found the voice.
It belonged to an angel with pale skin, blonde hair, and big brown eyes. She had a pert nose and her lips wobbled delicately while she clasped her hands together. The young woman kneeled beside him, focused on her hands without seeing him.
“Blossom.” Her name came back to him. Chester reached forward to softly caress her cheek. She gasped, looking down at him. “Are you okay?”
“Chester?” She covered his hand with hers. A tear slipped down her cheek. “Is it really you? Oh my goodness, I was so worried! Oh, you’re awake!” She clasped both of her hands over his before touching her forehead to it with a shaky breath. “Oh, thank the Lord.”
His heart pounded so hard he thought it might leap right out of his body. Chester opened his mouth to speak but it was dry and he didn’t know what to say.
He swallowed hard, trying to think. “I’m here,” he said finally. “I’m here.”
A soft laugh escaped her lips as she nodded. Sighing in relief, Blossom swallowed. She set his hand down on the ground but didn’t quite let go. Her eyes roamed his body before returning to his face.
There was a worried crease in her forehead.
“I thought you wouldn’t wake up, like my mother. I didn’t know…” She swallowed again before shaking her head. Quickly she wiped the tear from her face. “Never mind. You’re here.”
Chester frowned, not certain of what she meant by that. But he could hear the fear in her voice. “I am here,” he reminded her. “It’s okay.”
“Is it?” She asked him. “Really?”
“I promise,” he told her. “I feel fine.”
She gave him a look. “You were shot.”
Glancing down at his shoulder that was heavily bandaged, he shrugged. Then he winced, feeling a spark of pain as it washed over him. His body stiffened, waiting for it to fade.
The more he woke up, the more he began to feel it. Chester gritted his teeth as he tried to keep it out of mind. He turned back to Blossom knowing there wasn’t anything he could do about it. There was a bandage and there was pain. Moving anything left an unpleasant tingling sensation in his body.
“Right. Shot.” Swallowing, Chester reminded himself of what had happened.
He had been walking Blossom home with her horse when they were being followed. Though he couldn’t recall seeing anyone, he knew who it had to have been. Elijah. Elijah was the only one angry enough to have shot hi
m.
Blossom must have brought him here somehow. She really was an angel. The dream he’d had before was fuzzy, but he remembered her. His eyes turned back to study her soft eyes and sweet lips.
“How’s our poor patient?” Footsteps treaded quietly into the room from above him. Looking beyond him, Chester found Betty Bretts carrying a tray over. She set it down on a nearby table and peaked over at him with a sympathetic smile. Even upside down, she still looked cheerful. “Well, Chester, it’s good to see you awake again.”
“Hello, Betty,” he tried to smile for her. “I’m sorry to be on your floor.”
She shook her head while tutting. “Better than in the dirt, my boy. It took some work to get that bullet out of your shoulder, but Arthur patched you right up. You’re not moving an inch until you’re strong again, do you hear? I’ve brought you some porridge and warm milk. You poor thing. Arthur has gone to fetch the sheriff, you know. We can’t have anyone going around getting attacked like this.”
Though he agreed, Chester hesitated.
He wasn’t sure if Elijah was likely to reach out and hurt anyone else. On top of that, the sheriff didn’t really care for him, just like the rest of the town. Most likely the man wouldn’t care to do anything about this. He appreciated all that the Bretts did for him, but it was unlikely anything would come of it.
Still, he managed a smile for Betty.
“Thank you. But I’ll be fine. I don’t think it will happen again.”
The women exchanged looks with one another but didn’t say anything. Betty sighed before setting food down on the table beside Blossom who looked it over.
“Can you eat?” she asked him worriedly. “You should probably keep your strength up.”
He glanced at his shoulder and shook his head. “Not now.” His stomach churned, leaving him relieved to be lying on the ground. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to be, but he was glad he wasn’t moving. He wasn’t sure what might happen if he tried to do anything more. “I’d rather just lie here with you. Really, I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt that much.” Chester added when she bit her bottom lip.
“Are you certain?” She hesitated. “I was so worried. I had no idea what was happening, and when you fell, I…”
“I’m sorry I worried you,” Chester told her. “I never wanted to worry you about anything. But I’m really okay now. Thank you. I don’t know how I got here or what you must have done to help me.”
A small smile climbed up to her lips. “It wasn’t easy,” she sniffled. “You were a little difficult to put on Merryweather. My horse,” she added pointedly with a soft giggle. “You nearly toppled right over on me!”
He couldn’t help but chuckle as well. Though he felt embarrassed over what must have happened, he was relieved to see her handling it so well if she could already laugh again. Chester didn’t like to see that worried crease in her brow. It was better to see the corners of her lips turned up in a smile.
“I didn’t squish your horse then, did I?” he asked her.
She giggled more before shaking her head. “No, he is doing well just outside the gate. He is a good horse, young and spry.”
His eyes studied her face as she talked, seeing her features light up when she spoke about her pet. It warmed his heart and made him forget about the burning in his shoulder for a minute to admire the young woman beside him. She really did look like an angel.
The two of them talked for a few more minutes. Chester knew it was selfish of him.
As the day progressed on, surely Blossom had other responsibilities and duties to attend to. She had just been leaving to return home before they had been attacked.
That meant she should have been home some time ago with perhaps her father waiting for her. But he liked having her there beside him. She was charming, sweet, and had the kindest smile he had ever seen on a person.
Blossom told him all about her horse Merryweather and how he was a gift from her father a few years ago so she could travel around faster and get some fresh air.
She enjoyed taking him out to exercise though worried about him causing trouble if she left him too long on his own. They joked about the antics he could get into, the absurd ones like getting put into jail. Her laugh was musical to Chester’s ears as she threw her head back to show the white of her neck and the way her curls fell down around her shoulders.
“I haven’t even told you about Davey yet,” Blossom admitted. “He’s always getting into trouble.”
Chester raised an eyebrow. “Davey? Who is Davey?”
A sheepish smile spread across her face with a soft blush. “My duck.”
He wondered if he had heard right. Chester shifted to look at her better, wincing slightly at the twinge in his shoulder. “You have a pet duck?”
“I do. He’s a very good duck. Most of the time, that is,” she amended. “Very charming. He likes to go for rides with Merryweather and me. You’ll have to meet him when you come around again. But he does like to get into trouble. That’s why I can’t take him into town.”
It was hard for him to wrap his mind around such an idea. A pet duck. With a grin playing at his lips, he wondered how Blossom could continue to surprise him. “Amazing. A pet duck. Where on earth did you find a pet duck?”
“Oh, I…” A strange expression crossed over her face, hesitation and dismay. Blossom’s eyes looked away as she stumbled over her words. She leaned back. Glancing around, she shrugged. “That is, it’s nothing, I just- oh, your food. Chester, it’s getting cold. You should eat. Can I help you? Or I should, perhaps I should go. It’s getting late.” She climbed awkwardly up to her feet before he had a chance to say anything.
Chester hesitated as he wondered what he had done wrong. He swallowed, regretting asking her about her pet duck. He hadn’t meant to upset her.
His eyes ran over her figure as she hovered over him for a moment before shaking his head.
“No,” he said softly. “No, it’s all right. I can manage.”
Though she had been eager to rise, now she hesitated. Torn between leaving and looking at the dishes on the nearby table, Blossom fiddled with the bowl and bread.
She crouched down to bring them closer to him. “There’s soup. It feels cold, but perhaps it will still taste good. I can ask Mr. Bretts to put it back over the fire if you wish. The bread is soft, so that is good. The potato is also soft, and I think that will be good as well. You shouldn’t be eating anything tough right now, and I’m worried…”
He reached out to put a hand over hers. “Don’t,” Chester told her gently. “Don’t worry. Please, Blossom. You’ve done enough and I’m grateful to you. It’s okay if you need to leave.”
She glanced toward the door while biting her lip. “I hate that I must. Are you certain? What if I…?”
But Chester just shook his head. “I will be fine. Your father will want to be seeing you, and he is more important. If you really insist, however, I would like to see you again soon. Maybe tomorrow?” A soft grin escaped his lips as he watched her face for her reaction.
Blossom’s eyes met his as she smiled right back. “Tomorrow,” she nodded. “Good. Do stay well, Chester. Goodbye.”
When she stood up, she looked him over with a deep breath. Then she took a deep breath and left the house.
When he was alone, Chester sighed and settled back down limply on the floor. He was alone sooner than he liked to find himself, even though he knew he should be used to it. Closing his eyes, his thoughts ran over what had happened and his time with Blossom.
His stomach growled. Turning to the food, he grudgingly pulled down the chunk of bread to munch on. As he ate, the pain in his shoulder slowly began to grow. It hadn’t been there with Blossom around.
Chester hissed through gritted teeth when he fidgeted and it suddenly burned.
“Chester! Why haven’t you eaten your soup?”
Betty appeared with her hands on her hips. He stopped, staring at her with a guilty expression on his face and the bread
in his hand. He glanced at it and then back at her. “I…”
“It has herbs in it,” she reminded him pointedly. “All right. I’m going to find you some more pillows and feed you myself, young man. This is what happens when boys are in charge of feeding themselves. Now, where did I put that other pillow?”
The woman marched around before finding two more pillows that she brought over to him. Chester found himself being nursed to health like a child, with Betty there taking care of him. It was embarrassing, but at the same time, he marveled that anyone cared enough about him to do that for him.
He accepted the help, wanting to get better.
A Deal with the Cowboy’s Tangled Heart: A Historical Western Romance Book Page 15