The Cowboy's Honor

by Amy Sandas

  Dean gave a rough snort but didn’t reply. Randall wouldn’t go anywhere until he’d said his piece. The sooner he got to it, the sooner it’d be over.

  But the other man didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry.

  Randall swung down from his horse and strode over to take a seat on the porch steps. “The jury found Hayes guilty. He’s to be hung.”

  Dean felt a small jolt of pity for the man who’d loved Anne so much he’d felt compelled to exact revenge for her death. But then he recalled how Hayes had tried to take Courtney, and all sympathy passed.

  “Pilar and Emilio are doing well, if you were wondering. That boy is one good eater.”

  Dean had been wondering and he was happy for his brother and his family, but Randall likely knew that. His brother was far more astute than he often let on.

  “You know,” Randall said, turning to glance at Dean, “you could come around to visit sometime.”

  “I know.”

  “Or maybe we should all come by for supper one night like we used to. Maybe tonight.”

  “Tonight isn’t good.”

  “You can’t hole up over here forever.”

  “I ain’t holed up. I’ve just got work to do.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Dean gave his brother a hard look and waited. Randall didn’t disappoint.

  “When the hell are you gonna go after her and bring her back?”

  Every muscle in Dean’s body tensed. He’d thought he was prepared for this conversation. He wasn’t. He could barely think of her without feeling like he was falling apart. How the hell was he gonna talk about her? “I’m not.”

  “Then you’re even dumber than I thought. And too damn proud and stubborn for your own good.”

  Dean clenched his teeth and glanced out over the yard toward the road. He couldn’t think of how many times he’d looked down that road over the last few weeks. He wasn’t sure if he was looking for signs of someone coming, or if he was imagining himself leaving.

  “She didn’t want to stay,” he finally replied.

  “Bullshit.”

  Dean looked at his brother, anger rushing through him. “If she’d wanted to stay, then why didn’t she? She came from finer things, Randall, just like Mother.”

  Randall shoved to his feet, his expression one of exasperation. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Courtney is nothing like Mother.”

  “How would you know? You don’t even remember her.”

  Randall paused at that, and the two brothers stared hard at each other. Finally, the younger man glanced down before replying, “And I’m damn glad for it too. I wish you’d find a way to forget. Mother’s leaving has been a yoke around your neck for way too long.” He stepped up to Dean, his blue eyes hard and serious. “Now you listen to me good, Big Brother, because I figure I’ll only say this once. Dad died, and our mother left. It happened. It’s over. Granddad made sure you knew how to take care of this ranch, and you’ve been doing a fine job of it. But you’ve run your personal life like shit.”

  Dean started to turn away. He didn’t need to listen to this. But Randall caught his arm in a fierce grip. Dean glared at him, but his brother was determined. If Dean didn’t want to send a fist into Randall’s face, he’d have to stand there and hear him out. He ground his teeth and waited for Randall to continue.

  “You never loved Anne, and that’s the truth.”

  A growl rumbled in Dean’s chest as his hands formed into fists.

  “It’s true,” Randal insisted with a stiff jaw. “You didn’t love her like you should have to marry her. She was like a sister to both of us. You only wanted to marry her because that’s what Granddad wanted and because it was convenient. And she knew it.”

  Dean jerked his arm out of Randall’s grip and turned away. Years of guilt and anger and fury over the unfairness of life and death pushed through his veins, making him feel like he was on fire.

  It was true. All of it.

  He strode to the far end of the porch. He considered leaping over the rail and walking away. Away from Randall, the ranch, and all the mistakes he’d made since becoming his own man.

  “It was different with Courtney, wasn’t it?”

  Randall’s quiet words hit Dean harder than shouting could have.

  Because that was true as well.

  Everything had been different with Courtney. Life had been different. Better. He had been better. Content. Challenged. Fulfilled.

  And now he felt…broken. Lost and half a man.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered as he gripped the porch railing in both hands, his grip so tight he could feel splinters jabbing into his palms.

  “Of course it does, you dumbass. Go after her.”

  Dean turned to face his brother. The fear was too much to keep hidden. “What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if she doesn’t come back? What if she only stays for a while before she decides this life isn’t for her and she walks away?”

  He’d been devastated—wrecked—the day his mother chose a life of comfort over her sons. Even Anne had chosen someone other than him.

  What if he asked Courtney to choose him and she couldn’t?

  “Yeah, maybe that could happen. Bad things happen all the time. But if you don’t even try, you’ll never get the chance to see the good that could happen too. What if she loves you and comes back to stay forever?” Randall countered. “Be bold, Brother. Isn’t she worth the risk?”

  His brother’s words hit Dean square in the chest, shocking him with the sudden clarity they invoked.

  He’d never been a man to take risks. He’d always preferred to maintain the status quo, especially if he had something to lose.

  But where did that get him?

  Sure, he could stay here—miserable and empty—believing she didn’t want him. Or he could go out and try to convince her otherwise.

  Even if she broke his heart in two, it couldn’t be much worse than how he felt right now, missing her, longing for her, loving her. And if she didn’t love him back…if she couldn’t fathom living out her days as his wife…well, he’d deal with that as it came.

  At least he’d know for sure.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Courtney stood along the wall of the grand ballroom housing the elaborate yet intimate party gathered to belatedly celebrate the unexpected marriage of Mr. Geoffrey Cabot and the former Miss Margaret Flaherty. The elopement of the young couple had come as a shock to just about everyone in Boston’s highest social circles, causing a scandal that wasn’t likely to blow over for some time to come.

  But Geoffrey didn’t seem to care.

  Courtney’s former fiancé displayed an attitude that appeared to embrace a new sense of rebellion and independence. In that vein, he had thrown a grand ball, inviting all of his family’s connections and his wife’s family to partake of the revelry.

  Courtney had written to Geoffrey shortly after reaching Helena, providing her congratulations on his wedding and assuring him of her continued friendship. When he wrote back within a week to advise her of his plan to introduce his bride to Boston society and asked if she would be willing to attend the event as his friend, she’d accepted.

  It was not an easy decision, but Courtney felt it was a necessary one. Not only to show her support for a lifelong friend, but also to face her family and accept responsibility for whatever consequences had befallen them after she’d fled the city all those weeks ago. She owed it to her parents and younger siblings to try to make amends for her hasty actions on the day of her wedding.

  Her reunion with her parents had gone mostly as she expected. Tense, distant, reproachful. They hadn’t been interested in hearing of her experiences out west, and she wasn’t particularly inclined toward sharing. In not so many words, they’d stated that they would allow her to stay with them until the spectacle of Geoffr
ey’s wedding had passed, but that Boston would not be welcoming her back on a permanent basis.

  She had burned that bridge to the ground with her impulsive decision to run away.

  That was fine by Courtney. She had no plan to stay in Boston for long.

  After leaving Lawton Ranch, she had settled for a brief stay with Alexandra at her father’s spread outside Helena. But she’d realized quickly that she couldn’t remain there for long. Even the Kincaids were only visiting for the summer and would be off again on another trek across the territories by fall, this time heading south to Colorado. According to Alexandra, they eventually planned to settle down somewhere. Malcolm had been offered a couple of sheriff positions over the last year, but for now they were enjoying an extended honeymoon of exploration and adventure.

  Courtney’s skills with a needle had improved while she’d assisted Pilar with the baby’s clothes, and she hoped to find a shop in Helena willing to pay her for the skill. It would be a start, at least, toward her goal of living more independently.

  Helena was a beautiful, growing town, nestled at the base of the awe-inspiring Rocky Mountain range. There were shops and restaurants and a theater. If it lacked the grand prairie vistas Courtney had recently grown accustomed to, at least it was still in Montana…even if it was almost a hundred miles from where she’d left her heart.

  She was surprised to learn that her parents had decided to attend Geoffrey’s party as well, but she soon realized what a buzz he’d created in town by so openly rebelling against the social conventions so many of them adhered to like a lifeline. He’d become a novelty, and no one wanted to miss out on the spectacle of the year—even if they all stood about with pinched faces and disapproving gazes.

  Courtney found it rather amusing from her current position along the wall. She had been watching everything with an odd sense of displacement and wondered how she’d ever felt at home amongst the quietly reserved members of Geoffrey’s set. She much preferred the more relaxed and open nature of the bride’s people, who weren’t afraid to show their joy in celebration of a true love match.

  Courtney almost felt a desire to join them, but she did not want to draw any unnecessary attention to herself. After all, she was the prior fiancée who had jilted the groom not too long ago. Though all outward focus was on the newlyweds, nothing could stop the covert glances from sliding Courtney’s way. Curious, sneering, and judgmental.

  It was all she could do not to smile in response to their narrow views.

  She had discovered how little such opinions mattered. They did not know how it felt to ride through the wide-open Montana prairie with the summer breeze carrying the scent of wildflowers and the sky so big and beautiful above.

  She didn’t belong here in these tight, elegant spaces with these self-contained people who rarely knew what it was to live to the fullest. Though she was dressed again in a corset and layers of silks and lace, with her hair done up in elaborate fashion, underneath it all, she longed for the freedom and comfort of a simple cotton frock.

  The only thing that might have made this visit more tolerable would have been Evie. But her friend had recently married and was off on her honeymoon to New York City. Courtney wished she had been able to attend her old friend’s wedding, but her presence had not been welcomed by the groom’s family. Though Evie’s last letter had despaired of not having her two closest friends at such an auspicious moment in her life, she had never been one to willfully dispute the dictates of her family or society.

  Courtney considered staying in Boston until her friend returned, so they could have a more private reunion, but she already longed to be back in Montana.

  She longed for far more than that, but at least she’d be able to breathe again.

  The musicians started a waltz, and Geoffrey led his smiling bride to the dance floor. The couple gazed at each other as though the rest of the world had disappeared, and Courtney realized that neither of them cared one little bit whether their marriage was accepted by all these people. They would be happy regardless.

  She truly wished them well.

  Looking around, she wondered how long she would have to stay. Perhaps only another moment more. She’d paid her respects and displayed her support to the bride and groom; surely no one would expect her to stay and dance the night away. Her mother and father would feel it necessary to stay the required length of time dictated by proper manners, but she did not have to abide by such conventions.

  Not anymore.

  As she debated whether she should let her parents know she was leaving, she noticed something odd. A twitter of awkward curiosity was spreading through the room as people stopped in midconversation to twist around for a better look at the main entrance.

  Whispers wondering at the identity of a late-arriving gentleman drifted within Courtney’s hearing. Now would be the perfect time to slip away, while so much attention was directed toward this newcomer.

  More whispers swirled.

  Not from Boston.

  Not from anywhere around here.

  Clearly from that wild land to the far west.

  Courtney tensed with a rush of yearning. Obviously, whoever they were talking about wouldn’t be Dean, but it didn’t stop her from picturing just that.

  She smiled at the thought of her husband (and she still thought of him as such, even though she’d signed the divorce papers before leaving Montana), dressed in dusty denim and scuffed boots with his shirtsleeves rolled up and his hat tipped forward to shield his face from the glaring gas lighting.

  Her plans for a discreet exit stalled when she saw Geoffrey and his bride making their way through the crowd, presumably to greet the mysterious guest. People shifted in their wake, attempting to gain a better view.

  Whoever the gentleman was, Courtney hoped he enjoyed all the attention he was gathering because it didn’t appear that the stir of his appearance was going to die down.

  A moment later, the press near the entrance opened up to reveal the sight of the newly wedded couple heading straight toward Courtney. Beside them, dressed in a fine charcoal-gray suit with a black vest over a snow-white shirt and a brand-new black cowboy hat, strode Dean.

  Courtney’s breath stopped. Her heart stopped. Time and the rotation of the earth stopped as she watched Dean Lawton walk toward her across the ballroom, as elegant as any gentleman she’d ever seen and a hundred times more handsome than he had a right to be.

  She noted the tension in his face. His spine was stiff and straight, preventing his usual purposeful swagger, and he kept his eyes focused on her as though he wished he could make the rest of the room disappear. She had never seen him so uncomfortable and out of his element.

  Though she soaked up the sight of him like a woman starving, she made no move to meet them. Her legs were far too weak to manage anything beyond a locking of knees to keep herself upright.

  Why was he here?

  Had there been an issue with the divorce filing?

  She couldn’t imagine any other reason why he would bother to travel all the way to Boston, let alone walk into a crowded ballroom for what appeared to be the sole purpose of seeking her out.

  As the trio reached her, Geoffrey spoke with a noted look of concern in his eyes. “This gentleman says he would like to speak with you. If you wish, I will have him escorted off the premises immediately.”

  Only then did Courtney see that two large servants had followed them across the room and stood back a few steps, awaiting further instruction.

  “No,” she replied quickly. “It is all right.”

  “He claims to be your husband,” Geoffrey added in a lowered tone, a note of shock and disbelief in his voice.

  Courtney’s gaze flickered to Dean’s face, but his expression was unreadable. Looking back to her old friend, she replied, “There is no need for concern. Please feel free to return to your other guests.”
>
  After passing a long glance over Dean, Geoffrey stepped back and slipped his arm around his bride’s waist. “Remember, you are among friends,” he assured Courtney before turning away.

  And then it was just the two of then standing along the wall.

  Though Courtney suspected they were still objects of countless curious stares, she had no problem ignoring them all.

  Dean stepped closer but did not reach out to touch her. She tried not to think about how badly she wanted him to, but it was impossible. His presence ignited the air around her. He lowered his chin and sent his warm gaze over her in a sweeping, hungry glance.

  Heat and confusion consumed her. She could have hid all she was thinking and feeling behind that old familiar mask. But she preferred to live more honestly these days. Needing to say something, she asked, “Is there an issue with the divorce? I signed the papers and sent them back to Judge Wilkerson.”

  “The divorce went through without a hitch,” he replied, the words heavy and rough.

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Why are you here?” he asked in return, bringing his chin up just enough to gaze at her from beneath a heavy brow.

  Her stomach tightened. “My, ah, former fiancé has married. I am here to offer my support.”

  Never taking his eyes off her, he asked quietly, “And who is here to support you?”

  He had noticed her wallflower status. She tilted her mouth into a slight smile, feeling no shame in her changed circumstances. “I have discovered that I am quite capable of supporting myself.”

  He gave a short nod. “Yes, you are. You always have been.”

  There was pride in his voice, and the warmth of it traveled down Courtney’s spine, softening her posture. She tipped her head. “You haven’t answered my question, Dean. What brought you all the way across the country?”

  “You.”

  One word, spoken in perfect confidence.

  A light flickered inside her. A light she quickly tried to dampen before it brightened to full hope. He did not mean what her heart heard.