His Blessing in Disguise: A Western Historical Romance Novel

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His Blessing in Disguise: A Western Historical Romance Novel Page 24

by Ava Winters


  “I’m here because Jacob made me be here,” she replied. “He threatened everything I’d accomplished if I didn’t leave with him. He told me he’d ruin me.”

  Gary looked at her calmly. “What about yer sheriff? Why didn’t he do anythin’?”

  “I didn’t tell him,” she answered, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. She and Gary had never had any relationship before. Their conversations had always been superficial at best. Maybe she was lonely, or maybe she just wanted to vent her anger and frustration on someone other than Jacob.

  Gary was quiet for several seconds before he spoke again. “Yah really care about him, don’t yah?”

  Layla’s mouth hung open for a moment before she caught herself. “Yes,” she confessed softly. Her eyes lowered to her lap and her folded hands. “I really do.”

  “It must be nice,” Gary replied. “It must be real nice to have someone care enough about you to try to protect you.” He looked at her and she met his eye. “Yah gave up everythin’ just to protect him from the truth.”

  “I had to. He would never have understood, and he would only be disappointed in the truth,” she replied.

  “So you were protecting yerself, as well.”

  “Do you know what it is to finally find the one thing you wanted your entire life? Do you know what it’s like to have someone threaten to hurt those who care about you—and I don’t mean pretend to, but who really do?”

  Gary looked at her without emotion. “I’ve never had that luxury, but if I did, I wouldn’t run from my troubles. I’d fight for them.”

  Layla was speechless. Was that what Gary believed she’d done? That she’d run away?

  Is that what I did?

  She sat silently beside him as he drove the cart toward the nameless town. It was such a small place that it hardly deserved to be called a town, but it was the closest spot of civilization.

  Gary’s words lingered in her mind. She had run away, believing what she was doing was for the best. Had she made a mistake? Should she have risked it all and told Peter the truth? She wasn’t sure.

  I lost him anyway.

  Her words struck her. She had lost him and everything she loved. Maybe she was a coward. Maybe she was too afraid to risk him hating her to fight for what they could have had. And she’d let Jacob win and humiliated Peter in the process.

  Layla didn’t want to talk after that. She’d gotten herself into trouble and now, there was no helping her. Jacob wasn’t going to let her go and, so far, all of her ideas of escape had proven futile. Jacob’s eyes were always on her and when they weren’t, one of his boys was watching. He was making it impossible for her to leave him again.

  In town, she picked out the items they needed while Gary kept watch. She never thought of what brought them to the life they were living or why they were the way they were. She always liked to keep them separate from herself. Now, she realized that maybe there were things about them that she hadn’t bothered to understand, and it was Gary who had made her realize that.

  He wanted what she did—someone to love and accept him. He just never found it outside of the band of misfits that he’d become a part of in the orphanage. They were the only acceptance he ever knew. She wondered what might have been if someone had loved them then. If someone had loved her, she would never have left her home with Jacob. She would have seen the truth and not gone running after smokescreens. Maybe Gary and the others might have done the same.

  When she had collected all of the items, Gary came to pay for it. Jacob didn’t allow her to handle money. He didn’t want to take the risk of her running off with it. She walked ahead while Gary carried the parcels of food and supplies.

  Once back on the cart and headed out of town, she found herself looking at Gary and asking herself more of the same questions.

  “What?” he asked gruffly.

  “I was just thinking. Would you be here if you cared for someone deeply?” she asked honestly.

  Gary stopped the cart and looked at her. He seemed to study her face, and Layla sat quietly as she did so. Finally, he answered. “No.”

  “Then why be here?” she questioned. “Why not go your separate way and find what you’re looking for? You know this path is only going to bring you trouble. You could go to jail—or worse, get hanged—for the things you’ve done.”

  “Where would I be going to? I don’t have anyone, and there is no place for me. I’ve been with Jake and the boys for as long as I can remember. They are the only family I have ever had. If I left them, who would keep Jake coolheaded? It wouldn’t be long before he was alone.”

  Layla’s forehead wrinkled. “You really care about him.”

  “He’s my brother. They all are. Of course, I care,” Gary replied. He looked at her sternly. “I never liked you.”

  Layla scoffed. “At least you’re honest.”

  “You were never cut out for this,” Gary continued, unfalteringly. “I could see it the minute I spotted yah at the boardin’ house. You were a distraction for Jacob for a while, and I gave him that, but then when he decided to marry yah, I knew we were in fer trouble.”

  “You’re blaming me?” she demanded.

  “Jake knew everyone wanted yah, so he had to have yah. He got yah. But I knew that a wife was a problem for the lives we lead. It would never have worked and I saw it comin’ from a mile away, but Jake didn’t wanna listen to me. He wanted a wife. He wanted to show off.”

  “But what does that have to do with me? I didn’t urge him or provoke him. He pursued me,” Layla protested. “I had no idea about any of this until after we left town.”

  “I don’t know what it is about yah that makes Jacob crazy, but there’s somethin’. And that somethin’ is gonna land him in trouble one of these days. He was lucky that you never told anyone about us before now, but when I saw yah cozying up to that sheriff, I was sure we were done fer. Still, he was goin’ all out to get yah back. He was like a madman, and he still is.”

  “Then tell him to let me go,” Layla pleaded. “You don’t want me here. You think I’m a threat. Make him leave me alone. Make him divorce me, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

  A silly splash of hope rose up in her chest. If only there was someone on her side, someone brave enough to stand up to Jacob and make him see reason. Gary was bold enough. She had seen him stand up to Jacob in the past. Maybe if he pushed, Jacob would relent.

  “I’ve already tried,” Gary admitted. “He’s adamant that he won’t be beaten.”

  Layla sighed. “He doesn’t care about me. He just doesn’t want to lose.”

  “Jake has never liked losin’. Not to anyone, and especially not to someone he hates, like he hates yer sheriff,” Gary explained.

  “All it comes down to his him wanting to own me so that no one else can have me,” she replied. “I’m just a prize for him to show off.”

  Gary didn’t respond. He clicked his tongue and the horse trotted off. Layla folded her arms over her chest and watched the horizon. There was no help for her. Jacob wasn’t listening to anyone when it came to Layla. He was determined to keep his trophy, and he wasn’t about to let her get away again. His boys had no one, but he had someone—and he wasn’t going to let her go. It was all making sense. She was a symbol of his authority, his superiority, and validated him in a way that they couldn’t be. He had someone who loved him enough to marry him. What would it look like if the leader was abandoned by his wife?

  Layla never thought of these things before. She never considered what her leaving would do to Jacob’s ego or his position as head of the gang. She simply didn’t think he would care. Now she believed she understood things better.

  He will never let me go.

  The realization dawned on her in an instant. He would never let her go, because he couldn’t afford to. It would make him look weak, and a leader couldn’t be weak. His position was more important than anything and she was threatening it.

  He’ll keep me until I give up
fighting. He will never give me up. I’m trapped.

  They returned to the camp and before the cart had stopped, Jacob was walking toward it. Layla looked down at him. She was going to be stuck with him in misery forever. There was no helping it. The only person who had cared was the one person she had abandoned. Peter wasn’t going to come for her after what she’d done. There was no hoping for it. It was pointless. Still, she wanted to believe that someone, somewhere, would find her in the mess she was in and save her. She just didn’t know who or when that would be.

  Jacob helped her down. She didn’t bother to refuse him. Gary took the parcels from the cart and delivered them to her tent to be sorted. She picked out what she needed to make them dinner and then gave the rest back to Gary. He looked at her, but said nothing.

  Their exchange wasn’t something she thought would happen again. He’d said his piece and she’d said hers. She had no friends. Gary was loyal to one person: Jacob. He said what he did because he cared for Jacob, not because he wanted to help Layla. She was alone there. She always would be.

  Jacob hovered around her, but Layla didn’t have the desire to bicker with him. She was beginning to realize how pointless everything she’d done was. She made a mistake in leaving Richstone with the thought that she could run away again and hide. There would be no hiding. There would be no running. Jacob would never let her go.

  “Gary, I need some water,” she called, even though Jacob was beside her. She just wanted to forget he existed. She wanted to forget that she’d ever met Jacob McCarthy or agreed to be his wife. She wanted to forget everything.

  Gary collected a pot and filled it at the nearby spring. When he returned, Layla already had the meat in another pot over the fire and was stirring it to release the juices. She’d brown the meat and add the vegetables, and then the water to build the stew. It was the way she had been taught as a girl, and it was the only way she knew how. She would make some rice to go with it.

  Cooking helped Layla to distract herself. She pretended Jacob wasn’t right there watching her, even though she could see his curious glances. He was more than likely wondering why she wasn’t arguing with him. She barely heard him question Gary on what had happened on the way to town.

  “Nothin’,” Gary answered him. “We went to town and got what we needed and came back.”

  Layla acted as if she didn’t hear him. She was thankful that Gary hadn’t mentioned their conversation to Jacob. It was the last thing she wanted. She turned her focus elsewhere—to someone she couldn’t see, and would never see again. Peter.

  She would forever regret the choices she’d made. She would never forgive herself for her stupidity. She should have told Peter the truth and trusted him to love her past her faults and past mistakes, but she hadn’t. She’d wanted to preserve her image and the new life she’d created, and in the end, she had destroyed it all by being dishonest.

  I should’ve listened to you, Miss Annabelle. I should have told Peter the truth when I had the chance. Now, it’s too late. It’s all over.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Peter was surprised when Bill joined him on the trail of Jacob and his gang a few days later. He had expected to see Eustace, not his former boss, but he was glad for the seasoned lawman’s company.

  “I thought I’d see this through,” Bill commented when he greeted him. He had a big smile on his face, probably because of Peter’s surprised expression.

  Peter steadied his horse. “What about retirement?”

  “I can resume that when this is over,” Bill replied. “There are more important things to consider now.”

  “You told me something was wrong. You told me that you hoped we wouldn’t get news we regretted,” Peter admitted with a sigh. “I didn’t want to believe it.”

  “That doesn’t matter now,” Bill said reassuringly. “What’s important is getting Jacob and his men, and bringing Layla safely back to Richstone.”

  “If I had listened to you then—” Peter persisted.

  “Then we’d have been on this same trip a little earlier, that’s all. We can’t change the past, Pete. We have to take care of business now.”

  Peter nodded. Bill was right. He had to put his regret behind him and focus on finding Layla. “They’re headed toward Utah,” Peter informed his friend. “I came across a party of traveling medicine men who said they saw them headed in that direction across Nevada.”

  “Then the Utah border is where we’re going,” Bill replied. He kicked his good leg as hard as he could into his horse’s side and tore off in that direction. Peter followed him immediately.

  The pair tore across the plains, toward the border. Peter’s heart was thundering in his ears like the sound of his horse’s hooves against the dry earth. His light brown eyes were trained on the horizon, shielded beneath the shadow of the brim of his hat. All he could think of was how foolish he had been. How stubborn.

  Miss Annabelle told you, and you wouldn’t listen. You’ve got some apologizing to do when you get home.

  First, find Layla. Then worry about the apology.

  He was sure Annabelle would forgive him if he brought Layla home. But first, he had to find her and get her away from McCarthy.

  If he’s hurt her…

  Peter kicked his heels forcefully against his horse’s flanks. The animal raced even faster. The thought of Jacob hurting Layla put a fire in his veins like nothing he had ever experienced before. His only prayer was that Jacob hadn’t harmed her. Peter wasn’t sure what he would do if he had.

  The landscape changed before their eyes, but still, there was no sign of Jacob and his gang. The border between Nevada and Utah was a long one; there was no telling where they might try to cross over. It didn’t matter. Wherever they went, Peter was going to follow. He wasn’t going to stop until he got Layla back. He was wrong to let her go, wrong to not trust his instinct when he knew something was wrong. He should never have let her walk away from him that night in the saloon. There was a lot he should never have done, and he was going to make up for it now.

  Eustace caught up to them six miles from the border, near where a small creek ran down from the north. His horse fell into pace with theirs as they raced along the border, looking for the group. It was almost dark before they found them.

  “There they are!” Peter declared, his eyes squinted against the fading light. He could see the cart and horses tied near a small cluster of sparse trees, barely half a dozen slim barks stood to the left of the small camp. He could see movement.

  “Prepare yourself for a fight,” Bill replied. “I doubt McCarthy’s gonna give up easily.”

  Eustace nodded but said nothing. He was a quiet man, and very focused. Peter liked that about him.

  Peter counted the number of heads he saw in the distance and came up one short. He scanned the area, and finally, it appeared: long dark hair—Layla. His heart raced faster.

  They rode hard until they reached the camp. Rifles were out and ready if Jacob and his boys decided they wanted a fight. Peter was a crack shot, even from a saddle, and if any of them flinched in the wrong direction he’d take them out without question. Bill was even better, and though Peter had never seen Eustace in action, the stories he’d heard of his new deputy’s marksmanship were enough to convince him that nothing that moved would be breathing long if the man’s aim was on it.

  The guns of each group were trained on the other as the lawmen approached. “What’d you want here?” Jacob called.

  “You’d better put that gun down, McCarthy,” Peter warned. His eyes were trained on Jacob, the barrel of his gun marking his head, but the shot was almost impossible. Jacob, coward that he was, had Layla held in front of him while he shielded himself behind her. His boys remained exposed, but their guns were ready.

  “I don’t think so Sheriff,” Jacob replied. “It seems to me that you should drop your guns. After all, this isn’t Richstone. You have no jurisdiction in Nevada.”

  Peter didn’t flinch. “That mi
ght be true, but I’m sure the sheriff’s department in Colorado would love to know your location. Besides, if we shoot you, I’m sure the sheriff would understand—after all, you’re holding a woman against her will and she is a resident of Richstone.”

  Jacob gave Layla a sidelong glance. “She came of her own volition.”

  “Doesn’t look that way to me,” Bill put in. “And the sheriff here is an old friend of mine.”

  “We’re far better shots than any of you,” Peter continued. “How many do you think you’ll get off, if it came to a gunfight?”

  He let the question marinate in their minds. He could read people well and these boys, while willing to fight, didn’t want to die. They knew they weren’t facing some old miners; it was the lawmen’s responsibility to hunt down and arrest criminals, no matter how fearsome they might be and no matter what it took.

 

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