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

by Cassidy Hanton

  Elijah.

  It all came back to her in a rush. The striking fear of being followed on her walk home. Wondering if she was being followed. Hearing something behind her. Running toward home. Being grabbed. That’s why her body ached. That’s why she was tied up over someone’s horse. That’s why she wasn’t home in bed.

  I’ve been kidnapped

  She stared at him, stunned. Fear trickled through her body.

  Blossom tried to breathe, but her heart pounded so loudly and hard that she thought that it might break her apart sooner and end everything instead. She didn’t know what she would do. She didn’t know how this had happened. She didn’t know why this had happened. Her eyes watered but she refused to let the tears fall.

  There were more men than the man she rode with and Elijah. Three more, making it five in total. There was a whole gang of them.

  Faintly she recalled the words that Chester had told her about regretting his past. He had done some things he regretted and wanted to be better. He didn’t like being with the men so he had left them. But in her fear, she couldn’t remember anything else.

  She couldn’t even move. Staring at Elijah, Blossom wondered what he was going to do with her. Why had he done this to her? Swallowing hard, she prayed to the Lord for guidance. It was taking all of her strength not to panic. She tried to make herself think and move around, but she couldn’t.

  “Just a little farther, then,” Elijah decided with his Eastern accent. Then he jerked his chin forward as he pointed ahead of him to the man beside Blossom. “Then we’ll drop your package off.”

  “I got it, Boss. That sounds like a plan.” The voice sounded familiar as well. Almost like Chester’s.

  Blossom felt her heart skip a beat. She tried to look up toward him, but the chance never came. The horse beneath her started to move. She lost her hold from keeping her head craned upward and fell in a heap again downward. As the animal started moving forward at a trot, she bounced uncomfortably. She had no idea how she had been unconscious beforehand and stayed that way. Every jostle made her bruise and wince.

  All she could do was watch the ground beneath her.

  There were the four hooves of the horse. There was the man’s boot in the stirrup beside her. And the ground passing alongside them. Dense shrubbery in green and brown with no particular pattern.

  It took her several minutes to realize she should be paying close attention to where she was. Trying to catch her breath, Blossom tried to look around but couldn’t see much. She was awkwardly set between the man and his saddle with the pommel digging into her hips.

  At the very least, she would come out of this situation very bruised. And she tried not to think about the worst of this situation.

  Her mouth still felt funny. But slowly the dizzy sensation was fading away and her mind was growing clear. Whatever had been wrapped around her mouth earlier must have knocked her senseless, causing her to go unconscious and feel that way. But not anymore. And she was grateful to have her senses back.

  At the very least, it gave her a small ounce of hope amidst all the fear.

  Lord in Heaven, be with me. Please. I need you.

  Gritting her teeth against the bumpy ride, Blossom tried shifting a few times to get comfortable. But the rider beside her gave her what appeared to be an annoyed nudge with his boot once again and she stopped, giving up. Though her feet weren’t tied, her hands were, and she didn’t know what else she could do.

  For a second, she considered trying to slip off the horse.

  But most likely, she would immediately be trampled. And that was not what she wanted. And if they had wanted to kill her, she supposed, then they would have already done so. So Blossom forced herself to stay put and accept the uncomfortable ride until they slowed down.

  There was a sharp whistle.

  She craned her neck up sharply to look around, only to wince and force her head back down when she couldn’t see properly. The saddle dug into her stomach and Blossom’s short and anxious breathing wasn’t helping the situation. She couldn’t help herself even though she knew she was growing light-headed. But she had never been kidnapped before and didn’t know what to do.

  “Three-Eyed Tom, take the horses,” Elijah ordered. “Lowry, take her inside.”

  Blossom caught her breath, jerking as her rider shifted. That gave her a name for the rider.

  He moved away, sliding off the horse. She was left in the saddle all alone. It gave her more room to settle on the creature, but it wasn’t any more comfortable than she had been a moment before. Her ribs were aching. Blinking, she tried to look around to see where they were.

  It was still daylight.

  Surely they couldn’t have ridden through a night as well, so it was still the day where she had been captured. Just as she was trying to tell herself this was a good thing, Blossom felt rough hands wrap themselves around her. She was yanked through the air backwards, flying.

  She was so surprised that she almost fell right over when her feet found the ground.

  But the two hands stayed put on her, making sure she didn’t collapse. Blossom’s mouth gaped open as she wobbled for balance. Her arms reached out to the man beside her, grabbing onto him. Her eyes lifted up to see the man Elijah called Lowry.

  For a second, she thought she was looking at Chester.

  Then she blinked and he was gone. The build was a little more narrow. But the cheekbones were the same, as were the chin and forehead. But the eyes were darker and harder. Besides, this Lowry had a rather red and crooked nose. It looked recently broken. His lips appeared smashed into a flat growl as he stared her down.

  His appearance was so harsh that she automatically stepped back in surprise.

  “Oh!” Blossom stumbled over a branch and fell over in a heap. She heard laughter ring out nearby. Her body trembled in fear and humiliation. She sucked in a sharp breath. Swallowing hard, she tried to get up.

  But looking at her hands that were tied together with a piece of rope, she wasn’t sure what to do. Her skirts kept getting in the way. There were eyes watching her. Even Lowry stood right there before her, but he did nothing.

  She could feel that glare on her, but all he did was stare her down. It made her skin crawl. She wanted to curl up into a ball and cry right there. Except she couldn’t. She had to get up. Somehow, someway.

  “Lowry! Get her up!” Elijah barked. “Inside!”

  She looked up in a panic to see Lowry groan. He reached down to jerk her up by her arms, almost yanking them out of their sockets. She was lifted up off the ground and onto her feet in one fluid motion.

  Breathless, Blossom didn’t have time to even realize what was going on as he turned her around and pushed her to start moving ahead of him.

  “What?” she managed to squeak. “What is this? What’s going on?”

  “Walk,” he commanded her.

  Blossom flinched at the sharpness in his voice. It stung like a slap to the face. But it helped her open her eyes to the world around her. She blinked and found herself on the far outskirts of town.

  They weren’t too far out of Livingsfield. Rather, it was just over the hill from the schoolhouse. Ahead of them was an old abandoned building. It was the old chapel that had been struck by lightning when she was a child. They had built one closer in the town center immediately afterward that still stood. It was painted white and had a lovely silver steeple.

  I had completely forgotten this one still stood. Or sort of stood.

  Half of it had caved in from the storm. Made entirely of wood, the northern end had collapsed in on itself. The other was on shaky ground with a crumbling porch. The doors were chained shut to keep people from entering. Though she heard of children trying to play there once in a while, everyone knew better than to come play there. It wasn’t safe. The whole place could collapse.

  Blossom slowed down as she realized they were leading her straight to it.

  “Keep moving,” Lowry pushed her shoulder.

 
She stumbled, the loose gravel under her boots crumbling and sliding beneath her. “But…” she started, not certain of what to say. Now she had more things to be afraid of. Her eyes darted around as her heart sped away. The inside of her mouth still felt funny.

  But she was beginning to think. Even through the fear, she was clinging to hope and searching for courage.

  “What are you going to do with me?” Blossom asked. “We’re not going inside there, are we? It’s falling apart. That’s a dangerous building.”

  “Shut up,” he ordered her from behind. Then, for good measure, he pushed her again.

  She heard snickers from further away. There had to be some of the other men following them. Blossom glanced around, but Lowry pushed her a third time and she fell to her knees. One of the men burst out laughing.

  Her face turned red. She couldn’t believe this. Glancing back at Lowry, she mustered up all her courage to glare right back at him.

  “You don’t have to be so rude,” Blossom pointed out. “I was just asking you a question. I think I’m entitled to know what you’re going to do with me. I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing. I don’t even know why you’re doing it. But I do know that people will come looking for me. And they’ll find me. And soon,” she added warningly.

  Not that she knew if this was true, but it made her feel better to say. Blossom didn’t like how the men felt so confident about themselves. It worried her. She didn’t trust them or know them.

  Nor did she like it as they all began to laugh at her. Even Elijah was smirking at her with his arms crossed. She couldn’t see his face with his low-brimmed hat, but he was looking in her direction and she could see his thin lips.

  Sitting there in the dirt, her eyes widened as she looked around to watch them all snicker and joke around with one another as though she hadn’t just told them they all might go to jail. None of them cared. They didn’t think they would get into any trouble.

  That was when Blossom finally had an inkling of how much trouble she might truly be in.

  Oh dear.

  “All right, honey,” Lowry announced roughly. He grabbed one of her arms this time to pull her onto her feet. She winced but said nothing as she allowed herself to be pushed forward. “Get moving. Dangerous building or not, you’re going inside right now. Get.”

  She felt like a farm animal being herded as he led her around the back. Though the other men lingered further behind, they all slowly followed to watch her move about. It was slow going as she was still tied up.

  Blossom cautiously stepped into the broken-down building, she glanced around. She lifted her skirts for one step and then had to let go so she could lean against the wall for support. It creaked when she put her weight against it. That made her hesitant. Her eyes glanced up toward the ceiling. She could see the sky through the ruined lumber.

  Lowry cleared his throat pointedly.

  “I’m trying,” Blossom defended herself. “Next time, you can try to walk through these ruins in a skirt with your hands tied, all right?” The men behind them snickered. “Or would you like to untie me?”

  “No,” he growled defensively. “Just… move faster.”

  She huffed but didn’t respond. Blossom tried, but she wasn’t about to risk her life. She tested every floorboard carefully before putting her weight on it. One end of the room had already fallen apart. Sticking close to the other wall kept her safe, though she had to move around an old table still covered in an old sheet to stay off some creaking boards.

  Her heart pounded. Some windows were boarded shut, some were open. There were a few places where the roof was caved in, and some places were not. It was amazing what time had done to the building.

  It’s all so terribly sad. Wasn’t this place once beautiful?

  There was enough natural light that kept her from squinting too hard wherever she went. Yet it didn’t bring her the comfort that she had been seeking.

  Her heart was still hammering by the time they reached the third room. It wouldn’t budge when Blossom tried to open it. Lowry shoved it with his shoulder then, and it gave way. There was hardly anything in there. But he motioned for her to step inside and so she did.

  It was a small room. There was a cot, a small window not quite large enough for a human to pass through, and a single candle with no matches. A second doorway was to her left, but the door was closed over there. She stepped inside slowly, dread filling her soul.

  “What will I-” Blossom started to ask Lowry just as the door closed behind her.

  A gasp of horror escaped her lips.

  Panic filled every one of her senses, holding her hostage as she ran back to the door and banged on it with her hands in fists.

  “Wait!” Blossom cried out. “Let me out! Please! Let me go!”

  “Be quiet!” Lowry told her from the other side. “Shut up.”

  “No! Let me go, or- or you will be in great trouble. All of you! Please,” she added desperately while a sob got stuck deep within her throat.

  The fear grew heavy within her. It threatened to drown her. She was so lost and confused. Nothing made sense. Blossom banged on the door, wishing they would let her out. There wasn’t enough air in the room. She couldn’t breathe. Her head was pounding and nothing felt right. The room was spinning.

  Everything was terrible wrong.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chester’s Promise

  Though Chester meant to return inside and settle down for an early night, he couldn’t bring himself to move past his front door.

  Instead, he sat on his front step with his head in his hands while he thought.

  Sitting there on the crooked steps gave him a view leading straight into town. He could see northward where the schoolhouse stood proudly on the hill and the rest of Livingsfield sat below. Every building was similar, yet distinctive in its own way.

  He remembered moving into the little shack at first, spending most of his time wondering about what it was like to live closer among everyone else and what the townsfolk were like.

  Chester liked to pretend that someday he would be friends with everyone there. Someday the blacksmith would be friendly and show him how to work the iron and make beauty from the fire. The shopkeepers would know his name and what he usually stopped by to purchase so they would already have it ready for him.

  Perhaps people would stop him in the street to say hello and ask him how his day was. He had seen all of this happen to other people in the past and envied their opportunities.

  If only they had known just how fortunate they were to have such a treasured life.

  His eyes flickered up to the bright sun overhead.

  It was a very warm day. Sweat dripped down his back. Though Chester knew he should tend to the weeds in his small personal garden, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. He didn’t want to go anywhere. His body ached and there was a weight on his chest that kept pressing down on him. It wouldn’t let him take any deep breaths.

  He wasn’t sure what he was going to do next. If he was ever going to get up.

  Maybe I just won’t.

  Chester glanced down at his arm. Arthur had found an old towel of theirs and then with support from his wife, they had helped tie it around Chester’s neck to make a sling for his arm.

  “You need to stop using it,” Arthur had reminded him with a chuckle. “Stop moving the arm and you’ll stop moving the shoulder. You stop moving and you’ll heal!”

  His wife had nodded in reply. “Come back tomorrow for some more soup. You’ll be all better in a week. I’m sure of it.”

  It was a generous notion, just as always. Chester thanked them profusely and had left. It felt strange to leave his arm just hanging there against his chest. The weight of his limb transferred from his shoulder to his neck. This would take an adjustment, but he supposed it would help.

  Now, all he needed was a sling for his body and soup for his heart. He wondered if those would help him feel better.

  As h
e got older, Chester thought everything would start to make more sense. That people would become more understanding and he would get along with them better. He assumed that tasks would be handled better and that problems would be solved more smoothly than they had before. As he learned his lessons, it had seemed that he would have more answers at his fingertips.

  Except he felt more confused and conflicted than ever before.

  And lonelier.

  Chester squinted at the sun as he tried to decide whether the sun was bright because it was happy or because it was filled with rage. He hoped that either way, the sun knew what it felt. Because he didn’t know what he felt. There was pain and confusion but that was all he knew.