“Good morning.” She blurted the words out loudly with wide eyes. “Hello! I mean. I, well, you’re up. You’re up! That’s wonderful. Chester, you look good. That is, how do you feel?”
His shoulder felt sore. But it felt more like he had slept on it funny and less like he had been shot there the night before. Betty was a miracle worker.
Chester took a deep breath as he stretched his arm carefully for emphasis. It was tight, but not too painful. “Like I’ve been shot, but I’m healing. Well enough, I suppose.” He offered a smile. “Why don’t we take a walk?”
Fresh air sounded like a perfect idea to him. And she seemed to agree with the eager smile on her face. She gestured with her head and took a step back to make way for him.
The day was beautiful.
And now, he was feeling well enough to go outside and walk around with the pretty Blossom.
She was looking lovely in a blue dainty dress that had lace on the sleeves and collar. It brought out the pale color of her skin and the redness in her cheeks.
Blossom looked like a real lady.
The two of them started walking. They passed through the groves that the Bretts owned, the sweet scents lingering.
“Here.” Chester didn’t know what compelled him, but he pulled down an apple blossom and handed it over to her. “For you.”
“What…” she trailed off, biting her lip to hold back the smile. But it didn’t work as the smile spread. The dimple on her left cheek reappeared. He had almost forgotten about that. He grinned, swearing to himself he would never forget about it again. Blossom accepted the flower shyly as she tucked it behind her ear. “Thank you,” she smiled at him.
His heart felt full. He didn’t understand how good things could happen to him, even in the midst of terrible occurrences.
It wasn’t that he was complaining. It was simply that he didn’t understand. Life simply grew more confusing as he got older. Chester gave her a nod and turned back to the nearby trees.
Betty and Arthur only plucked a few apples every couple of days, depending on how many they needed. They wanted to deliver three buckets in town to the general store that could be sold for a few dollars, which wouldn’t be too difficult.
His eyes wandered looking for the ripest of the lot. It was a simple task but he kept glancing back down to the woman beside him.
She was just a few years younger than him and lovelier than anyone he had ever set eyes on before. Not only that, but she saw him like no one else did.
Chester wasn’t sure if he understood it. If he understood her.
There was more to it as well. He stalled as he remembered her tears the other night and the mention of her mother.
He had recalled the sadness in her voice about it, just like the day they met when she spoke of not being able to lose her father either.
The idea of having a close family sounded lovely. Though he had a lot of siblings, they hadn’t particularly felt bonded at any time. He had hoped it would work during his time with Lowry as they joined the gang with Elijah. But that had never happened.
And now recalling how much she cared about her father and worried about losing him, he wondered what had happened to her mother.
Chester thought of asking Blossom, but wasn’t sure he could do such a thing to her. It couldn’t be polite. He studied her from the corner of her mind as he tried to guess what could have happened.
It was the West, so anything could have happened. A sickness, childbirth, or something worse. He swallowed hard, hoping it had not been horrible.
“It’s a beautiful day,” Blossom smiled as she glanced over at him. “You grew quiet awfully fast. What are you thinking about?”
He bit his lip. They had just been able to find a light-hearted mood and he didn’t want to spoil it for them. Especially for them.
But at the same time, his curiosity was getting to the better of him. The two of them had already been through so much together, surely they were past the small talk and niceties. And he couldn’t get it out of his head all that she had said thus far. She claimed they were friends, and maybe this was what friends talked about.
He wasn’t very sure. He hadn’t had a lot of experience with friends before. Chester hesitated, weighing his options.
Then he glanced at her inviting expression.
Blossom was so kind and sweet. He didn’t want to hurt her, he just wanted to understand her better. Because she had been so understanding before, he prayed that she would understand him now.
After swallowing hard, he decided to simply try. “You’ve mentioned your mother before, but not clearly,” he started apprehensively. Chester paused as she blinked quickly at his words. “Can I ask you what happened to her? She’s gone, isn’t she? You’ve cried about her.”
“I didn’t…” Blossom started with a shake of her head.
“I don’t mean to intrude,” he jumped in hurriedly. “I only- When I heard you cry, I was worried…”
She took a step back and inhaled sharply when the flower in her hair suddenly fell out. They both watched as it slowly twirled down into the dirt between them.
Blossom glanced at him before shrugging. “I don’t know if it’s the right moment,” She said delicately in a quiet tone, “to share it with you. What happened, you see, it was very difficult.”
A lump formed in his throat as he began to blame himself. Of course he shouldn’t have said anything.
He shouldn’t have tried to start something he didn’t understand. Biting his tongue, Chester started to nod. But as he knelt down to pick up the flower, he studied it carefully before picking it up.
When he looked at Blossom, he gave her a serious look. He set the bucket down beside him before gently pushing back her hair to tuck it behind her ear.
It was soft to the touch and he caught a whiff of sweet berries.
Then he set the flower back where it had been sitting only moments ago as he gave her his most supportive smile.
“I can’t imagine what you have been through in your life, Blossom. I’m sure you have been through a lot of pain. But if you ever want to talk about it, please know that I am here for you. I will listen to you and support you.”
Chester knew what it was like to be alone.
He had felt that way for much of his life. Even with several siblings, they had all felt very much alone with their parents as they struggled to survive. It had been hard to live in their family and manage with their constantly unhappy parents. Every day was a struggle.
Then when their parents passed away, Chester had hoped everything would improve.
Everything was supposed to get better for everyone. That is what he thought had happened when he left home to join the gang. But with time, he realized he had only traded one problem for another. He was still very much alone but now in another sense. A different family with different problems.
But instead of waiting for the parents or the figurative leader to die, he managed to get out of there before it ended too terribly.
When he made it to Livingsfield and lived alone in his cottage, that was still alone. It was supposed to be better that way without anyone getting hurt. That was a good thing. But it also meant being alone in a way he had never been before.
Chester had no family and no friends.
He was alone very much of the time, but it felt different. He was free to be himself and free to do as he liked. There was no one around to judge him or tell him what to do.
It was his life and his actions to do as he liked.
The sensation was so freeing that he knew he could never take on another person who was planning to tell him just what he had to do next.
But independence was different than being alone. Because while he liked his independence and not being ordered around, he still understood there were days where he craved having a familiar face around to keep him company. He wanted someone to talk to.
Everyone deserved someone they could talk to, share secrets with, and listen to. Chester h
ad thought it merely a silly dream for some time until he found himself talking to his horse on a more regular occasion.
That was when he started visiting the Bretts more often.
Whereas Blossom was struggling, and that was obvious. She was having a hard time over her loss with no one to talk to. He could see it in her eyes and it hurt him almost as much as it hurt her. Chester found himself sad for her, wishing he could take the pain right off her shoulders.
Chester rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to think of something else he could say to see if there was something more he could do to be of service to Blossom.
She glanced down at the bucket she carried before taking a deep breath and looking up at him. Biting her lip, she sighed. “You’re very persuasive, Chester.”
He gave her a chuckle. “I’m only here to help, Blossom.”
She touched her hand to his elbow in thanks and started them walking again. But this time it was slow, terribly slow. “She died, you see. Five years.” His heart immediately went out to her.
Blossom took a shaky breath as she shook her head. “It was horrible. So unexpected and violent. We didn’t know. No one could have expected it. There wasn’t even time to say goodbye. It’s made me horribly afraid of losing anyone now, I suppose.”
Her smile wobbled, and it took all of his strength not to wrap her up in his arms to protect her from the rest of the world. The only reason Chester didn’t do that was because he didn’t want to scare her or be too intrusive.
“I can understand that,” he offered. Losing anyone could be hard. His relationship with his parents had not been good, but still losing anyone had to be jarring. “I’m sorry for your loss, Blossom. I’m sure she was wonderful.”
The young woman offered up a watery smile. “She was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.”
Chester wondered if it would end there. He wasn’t sure what to say next and he wasn’t sure that Blossom would continue on there. Five years ago was still fairly recent to lose someone that meant a lot. His heartstrings tugged hard for her loss.
Five years was just around the time he had arrived in town. Chester couldn’t help but wonder if it was just before or after his arrival. He could have crossed the woman in town. Or just missed her. He walked alongside Blossom very slowly as they started to talk.
If only there was something he could have done to help her. Could I? Would I have done something? It made him wonder. It was a while back. While he had been brave enough to leave the gang, would he have been able to do anything to help her?
He really hoped so.
When she hesitated once again, Chester saw the fearful look on her face. So he reached forward and took her hand. Giving it a squeeze, he also nodded at her reassuringly to show her his support. That’s what friends did, or at least that’s what he hoped they did.
It’s what he wanted to be able to do for her. Blossom deserved better. She deserved the best. She should have had all the happiness in the world. As he held her soft hand in his, Chester hoped there was a higher power in the world somewhere that was watching out for her somehow.
At the same time, he hoped that whatever came next was for the better. He didn’t want Blossom to struggle or suffer.
She dove into her story slowly but surely.
Had Chester known what she would say, however, he wasn’t sure he would have wanted her to talk, let alone held her hand through the story.
Chapter Twenty
Blossom’s Story
Blossom had only ever told the story once, and that was recounting the story to her father on the evening of when it happened.
They had both been in tears, holding one another close on the porch of their home. It was then they realized that they didn’t have anyone else to hold.
Her father didn’t have his wife and she didn’t have her mother.
It had been the worst day of her life. Blossom remembered weeping all through the night. She had fallen asleep from exhaustion and woken up with tears still in her eyes.
Both she and her father had spent a few days sleeping in the parlor in the rocking chairs, not wanting to move or go to bed. It was as if they worried that by leaving each other’s side, something else might happen. They were all they had left.
Losing a beloved family member hurt, especially when it was so unexpected.
Though Blossom liked to think that she had healed and moved past the painful memories, it still affected her strongly.
Trying to tell her story to someone else was strange and uncomfortable. The words felt sharp and odd coming off her tongue. But she respected Chester. And after all he had done for her and been through, she couldn’t help but trust him with her story. He deserved to know.
And yet, a lump formed in her throat as she searched for the words.
Her mother was still the prettiest woman she had ever seen in all her life. Though people said she had grown prettier as she grew up, Blossom couldn’t possibly believe it. Her mother was just beautiful. Even though she was gone, Blossom still saw her when she closed her eyes.
Sometimes it was hard to see her. Sometimes she was just a blur. But sometimes she was clearer than the back of Blossom’s hand.
“It was my birthday,” she murmured softly. It was probably the best place to begin.
She had forgotten about that. Swallowing hard, she took a deep breath. Chester tightened his grip on her hand for comfort. It didn’t hurt. Instead, it brought her peace. Blossom stared at the ground as she struggled with the words.
Her tongue felt funny as though it had grown twice its normal size so it was all clumsy and lumpy inside her mouth.
“My mother and I went into town. She wasn’t… It was all an accident, you know. At least, I think it was. It shouldn’t have happened. That’s what everyone said. That’s what I told myself over and over and over again. If only we hadn’t gone into town.”
Blossom sighed. “But we were in town. I turned eighteen and I wanted a present. Well, sort of. I think I did. I had everything I could want, but I was allowed to have a new gift. My mother went with me and we needed to find something. So I looked around while my mother went to look for something. I don’t remember what it was. She knew how to shop. She could barter for anything.”
It was true. Her mother was the one who could barter right for any price. Her father was horrible at it and Blossom was even worse.
On occasion, people took pity on the two of them but not always. People like Farmer Hopkins always gave them good prices when they needed their eggs. But other shopkeepers would take what prices they could, knowing they wouldn’t argue.
Blossom always tried to gather her courage to say otherwise. But when the time came, she simply couldn’t do it. She didn’t know what it was. It didn’t look that hard.
Even when she practiced on Merryweather and Davey, it seemed possible. Except the moment she stood before the shopkeeper, it became the hardest thing in the world. And they knew it. When she didn’t argue back, they knew they could decide on any price. This could be rather frustrating sometimes.
She knew how silly it sounded, but it was small moments like that where she really missed her mother.
From the lonely moments at supper with the empty plate to the haggling moments in town, Blossom wished her mother was with her. Even just for the occasional hug or scolding of an unkempt hem.
“That’s when I purchased Davey.” The one good thing that had come from that day. She sighed and shook her head. “My duck. He was just a few days old. Farmer Hopkins had too many ducklings and he was so fluffy. Mother let me purchase him. He was my birthday gift.”
Davey was a silly little thing. Blossom went off to visit him every day. When he was little, she would keep him in the house. But now he preferred the pond.
If she forgot to visit him, then he would come to the door to protest. That was the only time her father only had an issue with her having a pet duck. She smiled fondly, glad that some things never changed.
When she loo
ked up at Chester hopefully, he gave her another soft squeeze on the hand. “I’m glad he’s been with you, then,” he said softly. “It sounds like he has brought you great comfort.”
He understood. She didn’t know how he did it, but Chester understood.
Nodding, Blossom kept on walking. “He really has. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise if he hadn’t… If I hadn’t…” The knot in her throat grew. She tried to take a deep breath but she couldn’t. Shrugging, she kept walking. She couldn’t stop moving because she feared she would start to cry.
Chester let her lead the way, and he didn’t say another word.
A Deal with the Cowboy’s Tangled Heart: A Historical Western Romance Book Page 17