A Deal with the Cowboy’s Tangled Heart: A Historical Western Romance Book

by Cassidy Hanton

  She lifted her skirts and ran. Tears dried on her cheeks with more trailing down as she searched for her house up ahead. It had to be close, she prayed.

  A moment later, Blossom could hear footsteps.

  Her breath choked. But somehow she managed to keep running. Her fear wouldn’t let her stop. Gasping for breath, she took step after step. Her chest strained as she prayed to the Lord for His help. She didn’t know what else to do. There wasn’t enough air in her lungs to scream. She couldn’t fight. All she could do was run.

  Then her house was in sight.

  I just have to go a little farther.

  Blossom gasped, stumbling in relief. She was so close.

  She tried not to turn back, not wanting to see the danger she was in. Though she heard the footsteps drawing closer, she didn’t want to see who it could be. She just wanted to be safe. This had to be a bad dream, she told herself. In just a moment, she would be safe.

  Until she wasn’t.

  “Ahhh!” Blossom cried out as an arm wrapped around her waist.

  She went flying forward, landing painfully on her side. There was someone beside her as they rolled in the dirt. She was on top of them and then below them. Though she fought with her elbows and feet, Blossom was dazed and bruised and didn’t know what way was up. With her eyes squeezed up, there was dirt in her mouth and she couldn’t understand what was happening.

  “Let go of me!” she cried out when they finally stopped moving. There was someone pressed against her back and the ground felt hard on her side.

  But just as she found her voice, something soft pressed against her mouth. It tasted sickly sweet.

  Immediately Blossom gagged, but it didn’t go away. Instead, the pressure grew until it was practically in her mouth. She was forced to breathe it in. Though she tried to open her eyes, they grew too heavy for her to do anything.

  Darkness swept over her and the world disappeared.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chester’s Regret

  Maybe there was something he could have done differently.

  Chester opened his eyes and stared up at his wall. He couldn’t fall asleep no matter what he tried. Hardly an hour had passed. It was mid-afternoon and he couldn’t bring himself to get up and do anything. There he was, just a miserable heap on top of his blankets. Useless and cruel.

  He kept seeing Blossom’s face with that tear rolling down her soft cheek.

  She didn’t deserve to cry.

  But then he would remind himself that it was better for her to cry one tear than many more. Maybe someday she would understand that he was doing a good thing by protecting her from him. He made a face, or maybe she wouldn’t. It would be better that she didn’t know. She could never know.

  All she had to know was that she was safe. Even if she thought that she was sad, it was nothing compared to the misery that awaited her if she knew the truth of who he really was and who he used to spend his time with in the past. Just trying to imagine telling her that horrible truth made Chester shudder.

  Covering his face with his hands, he wished he could keep Blossom from crying for the rest of her life.

  She didn’t need a life of tears. She needed a life of happiness. She should have been joyful. After all the hardship she had been through, she should have been done with all the tears. It made him sick to his stomach knowing that he was part of the problem.

  But not anymore.

  Now, he would stay far away from her. That way, Blossom could find more happiness. More happiness and more joy would certainly come her way by keeping her far away. It made sense to Chester.

  He just wished that made him feel happier.

  Rubbing his face, he groaned. He looked up at the ceiling again and groaned. Never had he been in a situation like this before. Just as he thought his life was finally looking up in a new direction with Blossom in his life, with a woman whom he had just realized he loved, he had to let her go.

  A shaky breath slipped out.

  Chester didn’t know what to do with himself. He couldn’t go back to Blossom. He had to keep her safe from the truth. Besides, Elijah was out there, waiting to cause trouble. There wasn’t anything more he could do to protect her than to stay away from her.

  I’m somehow still trapped.

  Yet he wanted nothing more than to run to her side and tell her about everything. She always seemed to know what to say and how to make him smile. Just being around her usually made him smile. But he couldn’t do that now.

  There he was again. In a short amount of time, it was like nothing had really changed. He was back to being on his own. He could hardly believe it. Life seemed to want to keep him constantly on his own. Chester grimaced in distaste.

  Can a person be meant to be alone forever?

  He hadn’t grown up going to church. If there was a God, a higher power, then it seemed to be playing a cruel joke on him now. Lately he had begun to wonder. With Blossom around, he had been hopeful that there was one. Chester tried to remember what she had said about there being a God.

  But whenever he thought about her, he could only think of the sadness in her eyes.

  Chester tried to sit up to force that look out of his mind.

  But the jerk was harsh and quick. He messed up the motion and it pulled at his shoulder. At his wound. He had completely forgotten about it. When he was around Blossom, all the pain had faded away. On the way home, it had become a dull, thudding ache. But he had been able to keep it out of mind with all of his thoughts.

  Now, he gritted his teeth and glanced down at his shoulder to see a red flower smear its way through his shirt. He had ripped through the stitches. Chester didn’t even know what he had just done, only that it was painful.

  He groaned in annoyance. And agony.

  Though he was tempted to just collapse back into bed and give up, Chester forced himself to get up. He had to do something. It wasn’t like he could just do nothing. Balling his hands into fists, he leaned against the wall carefully for support and made his way out of his house.

  The day was still bright. He squinted at the sun before turning toward the little trail that led over to the Bretts. There were still two people who would talk to him and help him. Two people who he had done nothing wrong to, and perhaps they could help him out. Every step was slow and forced, but he did it.

  Chester knocked twice before leaning against their house.

  “Good afternoon,” Arthur swung the door open a moment later. “Betty, I was right. It is Chester. We didn’t think we would see you back so soon. Is that sweetheart of yours still around? Oh bother. Betty, I think you need to bring that needle of yours back out. Come on in, son. Back to the kitchen with you.”

  The older man was just a couple of inches shorter than Chester. Or he would have been if he stood straight. But with time and age, Arthur had begun to walk rather stooped with his shoulders bent over. He shuffled his feet slowly but confidently through the hall of his house with the expectation that Chester would follow.

  Which he did.

  He tried not to move his arm, hoping that would lessen the pain.

  It had started to spread from his shoulder to his arm and chest with a fire all over again. Chester swallowed it down. He tried not to think about it as he stepped through the tidy little house and came upon the kitchen.

  Betty had just pulled out her needle with a perplexed expression on her face. “I’m not sure why…” Then she looked at him and frowned. “Oh bother. Chester, whatever happened, boy? It hurts, doesn’t it?”

  “Rather mighty,” he grimaced.

  She nodded before gesturing to the seat he always used when he visited. “Sit down, then, sit. Arthur, help him with the shirt, would you? You’re not going to have any more clothes if you’re not careful, Chester. What a shame. And I did such a good job this morning. Whatever happened? And where’s Blossom? Is she all right? She’s not here, is she?”

  Chester didn’t know how to answer her question, especially as Art
hur came up and tugged clumsily at his sleeves. He couldn’t help but chuckle awkwardly as the older couple huddled around him in concern and tried to help him out. He appreciated how much they tried to do for him, even if it could be a little much. Before the older gentleman could do much, Chester forced himself to ignore the pain and tugged his shirt off.

  He could practically hear the stitches ripping themselves out.

  This morning, everything was perfect. Now everything is a mess.

  When the Bretts looked at the damage, they hissed. “What happened?” Betty demanded of him.

  Chester shrugged, only to immediately regret that motion. “I sat up in bed,” he confessed. “That’s it.”

  He glanced up at them to see the married couple exchange skeptical looks. But they didn’t say anything before Betty pulled out some thread and shook her head. “Arthur, could you clean his wound, please? I think I’ll use thicker thread this time. And a heavier bandage.”

  “I’m sorry,” Chester tried when silence fell. Guilt clung to his conscience. He hadn’t done anything right all day.

  Betty tutted. “Don’t worry, dear. This was bound to happen. I was just hoping for a miracle. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. But I expected you to be in a happier mood. You were practically singing when you ran off with that pretty young lady this morning. Whatever happened?”

  His throat dried up.

  Chester wished they hadn’t noticed. He looked down, wondering what exactly he was supposed to tell them. He didn’t know. Swallowing hard, he sighed.

  Blossom was clever and smart and sweet and beautiful and kind and perfect. And she deserved better than to be with him. But he couldn’t say that without saying why he couldn’t be with her.

  The Bretts didn’t know all about his past.

  Though they knew it was rough, they didn’t know the details. No one did. It was better that way. Safer that way. Chester worried what they would think of him if they knew how horrible he had been. Rather, he wanted them to see him as he was now, trying to be a better person.

  So he shook his head. There wasn’t any way that he could tell them the truth.

  They wouldn’t like me if they knew.

  “She had to go home,” he choked out finally. “She had better things to do than to be with me.”

  Chester expected for them to leave the conversation at that. But to his surprise, Arthur scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. Chester, you’re a good-looking lad. Blossom would be lucky to have you. Any of those girls in town would be lucky to have you. She came to see you, didn’t she?”

  “Oh. I mean, yes, but…”

  “But nothing,” Betty followed up firmly just as she poked him with her needle. Chester gritted his teeth as he tried to stay still. “And we’ve seen a lot more about life than you have, so we know exactly what we are talking about. Chester, you can’t run away every time you get nervous. That girl is probably better than anyone else in all of town. I wouldn’t run away just because I got nervous or scared.”

  A flush spread over his cheeks. “I’m not nervous! Really.” His hands clenched. “But, it’s just, I don’t come from a good past, remember? I did some terrible things. And Blossom deserves better. If she knew who I really was…” That old lump formed in his throat again to make it hard for him to talk, “She would want to run away and hide from me. I just know it. So it’s better that I do it first.”

  To his surprise, Arthur just shook his head. The man took a seat beside him. “That’s not giving her a chance, Chester. You’re keeping the cards from her. You have to let people make their own choices. You don’t know what she would do.” He lifted his hand when Chester opened his mouth to argue. “Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. Until you’re completely honest with Blossom, then you don’t know what she would really do or say. She could always surprise you. I know this one does.” Arthur glanced up at his wife with a glowing expression of pure adoration.

  It was enough to make both Chester and Betty blush. “Oh stop,” Betty chuckled. Her eyes never left Chester’s shoulder. “Don’t stare at me, dear. I’m concentrating.”

  Betty slowly finished up her work on his shoulder. A little more alcohol was brushed over to clean it, and then it was heavily bandaged. Though he was automatically invited to join them for supper, Chester decided to forgo the invitation.

  He had a lot to think about. Lingering behind in the home, Chester got to work cleaning up the Brett’s kitchen from the mess he had caused with some other general untidiness. The simple work gave him time to think about what was said.

  It was hard not to put his mind to work. He fell deep into thought about what Arthur had said about giving Blossom a chance. Every part of him still regretted how he had treated Blossom.

  No one should ever be treated in such a manner. But he didn’t know how to talk to her again after that. Surely she wouldn’t want to see him. Chester glanced out the window as he considered his options. Maybe he would give it some time. Or he could go back to her right away.

  But what would he say? How could he apologize? Would he apologize?

  And how could he apologize only to immediately tell her that he had been part of the gang that was at fault for her mother’s death?

  Blossom, I’m sorry I joined a gang. I thought we were friends having fun until someone died.

  That tied his tongue right up into a knot. Chester dried his hands as he prepared to leave. He went to the back porch to say farewell to the Bretts so they would know he was headed back home. They meant well and they did a lot for him, he decided. But they didn’t know everything.

  They didn’t know what a horrible person he had been. And no one could ever know. That’s why he had left the gang and started a new life. Chester took a deep breath as he reminded himself of this over and over as though he were convincing himself that this was the truth.

  Everything would be fine. He would be fine, and Blossom would be fine.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Blossom’s Warning

  At first, she thought it was night.

  Blossom wondered if she had fallen out of bed, and why the world was moving. Her head pounded as her mouth felt powdery dry. All she wanted was a long drink of water and to fall back to sleep in her comfortable bed with her soft blankets.

  Especially since she had been having a terrible dream.

  Her stomach clenched as she tried to remember what it had been. It had not been a fun dream. Trying to keep the bile down inside her, Blossom remembered something about running from something dangerous. There had been a monster or a creature or something odd. She wasn’t quite certain.

  Probably just another dream that would fade away once the sun rose. That happened often enough.

  This meant she would crawl back into bed, close her eyes, and fall asleep again. Her dreams would change and she would sleep until morning. And when she did, everything would be well. She would drink water and feel better and enjoy the day with her animals and father.

  Everything will be better.

  That was until she tried to roll onto her side and found that she couldn’t. Her head pounded. Feeling light-headed, Blossom realized she really was moving. She jerked around, feeling herself on top of something.

  There was a lot of empty space and hard things around her. It was like she couldn’t move her hands because they were stuck together. She kicked into empty air, confused. She struggled to understand what everything was until she felt something sharp nudge her in the back. It felt like a boot and she stiffened.

  “Stop that,” a voice demanded. Then it grew louder. “She’s finally awake!”

  Other voices hooted. Blossom stiffened. Dread ran its way through her body as she slowly became more aware of what was going on. Her hands were tied together and she was trapped on top of something. Like a horse. Hands grabbed her hair, causing her to flinch.

  That’s when the night gave way to bright light.

  It was never darkness, Blossom realized in a daze. It was ju
st a cloth.

  She squinted, the harsh sunlight hurting her eyes. Her mouth tasted funny and her head pounded. Blossom wasn’t certain she could feel more confused about what had happened. She didn’t remember falling asleep in such a position. Her thoughts were sluggish as she tried to remember how she had found herself roped up like a calf with a strange man.

  “It’s about time.”

  Another rider came around. Blossom craned her neck up awkwardly, recognizing the voice. Her vision was blurry, but she could see just enough of him. There was a scar on his left cheek and she caught a glimpse of another on his neck. There was no mistaking the man.