Finding the Broken Cowboy

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Finding the Broken Cowboy Page 5

by Cassidy Hanton


  They said their farewells and despite everything, Beatrice realized she would miss the other woman. But she was grateful God put Josephine in her path in the first place.

  "This is our last coach ride. We will be in Helena this time tomorrow," Elaine announced, brightening Beatrice's mood instantly.

  It was such a relief knowing all this would be over soon. Beatrice was more than ready to put this torture behind her. She longed to sleep in a real bed for a change. Eat something that was not prepared in a train or a tavern. Yet more than anything, she longed for long bathing.

  Oh, my sweet Lord, she exclaimed only thinking about it. She longed for some fresh, clean water she could fully submerge into and scrub her skin clean until she was flushed pink again and get rid of this layer of dirt that became her second skin.

  "Do you think we should have sent a telegram to Uncle Tom, alerting him of our arrival?" Beatrice asked Elaine. To ease them into their arrival opposed to shocking them completely.

  Elaine took a moment to ponder about that. "No," she said eventually, dragging out that simple word. "I don't want to send a telegram. I don't want any trace of us ever passing through here."

  A part of Beatrice really wanted to rebel, tell her old governess she was simply being overly careful, paranoid even. Alas, she couldn't do that. The knowledge that a madman broke into her home in the middle of the night to end her life, and was still at large despite the best efforts of the lieutenants, trumped everything else.

  "All right, we will go unannounced," as they entered the carriage.

  And then God help us, Beatrice added to herself. She felt only sympathy for the uncle and aunt.

  When her parents passed away, Beatrice, in all that chaos and commotion, completely forgot to telegraph her father's brother about such tragedy; and now she felt immense guilt for being so short-sighted and wrapped only inside her own pain.

  On the other hand, she now had a second chance to not only break the news to them the right way in person and seek refuge but to also make amends as well and get to know them.

  Beatrice patiently waited by the carriage as Elaine was procuring them something to eat. They were just a town away from Helena now, and she couldn't contain her excitement.

  "Who are you?" a woman's voice startled her. "I do not know you, and I know everyone." The rather large woman was looking at her with interest through a pair of glasses.

  Beatrice was rendered speechless for a heartbeat or two. She wasn't used to being spoken to in such fashion.

  "I know every young girl that resides in these parts," the woman insisted, since Beatrice remained silent. "Yet, I do not know you," and she looked rather vexed by the idea.

  Who is this woman? Beatrice wondered.

  "I am not from these parts," Beatrice muttered in return.

  The woman raised an eyebrow in return, and Beatrice felt the urge to apologize immediately for her rudeness, despite the fact that she didn't do anything wrong. That same urge forced her to open her mouth once again.

  "I am from New York City, and I'm traveling to Helena to visit my uncle and aunt."

  What is the matter with you? She snapped at herself.

  "New York?" The woman cheered. "That is simply marvelous. My name is Madame Mabel Ida Sadorf, but you can call me Madame Mab, everybody else does," she offered generously. "I was born in New York," she continued in the same manner. "But now I have a small shop in Helena that sells knitwear and stuff like that."

  "That is where I'm headed as well," Beatrice offered in return.

  "Marvelous!" Madame Mab clapped her hands. "You can tell me everything about New York on our trip there. These things can really drag on and be such a bore. Are you traveling alone, my dear?" she said, all in one breath.

  Beatrice simply smiled in agreement, seeing no other way. "Well no, I travel with my Nan. Oh, here she is."

  The women introduced themselves, and Beatrice only then realized she didn't provide her own name, but Elaine did that for her.

  "I see you already met my Beatrice."

  "Oh yes, she is such a gem. And we will entertain ourselves nicely on our trip," Madame Mab laughed. "Since this is a very dull journey. Well, now at least, when there are no more bandits."

  Beatrice's eyes widened in surprise and shock. "Bandits?" She practically stammered.

  "Oh yes," Madame Mab replied, a bit too cheerful if anyone asked Beatrice.

  How can she be so blasé about such affairs?

  "But then out local hero, bless his soul, Nathan Walsh took care of the menace and saved the town," she concluded, theatrically.

  "Is he a lawman?" Beatrice wanted to know, intrigued.

  "No, a local rancher."

  A rancher stopped a band of bandits. Beatrice wanted to hear more.

  The coachman appeared, telling everyone it was time for departure and the three women settled inside.

  "And who are you visiting in Helena?" Madame Mab inquired.

  "The Fosters." Elaine was the one that answered, much to Beatrice's surprise. Maybe the time for pretense was over. They had arrived after all.

  "The Fosters? Such wonderful people!"

  As promised, Beatrice talked a great deal about today's life in New York City, skillfully avoiding anything too personal. In return, Madame Mab talked about the town, its people, and especially about this young rancher that liked to save the day in his spare time.

  Beatrice wondered if she would get a chance to meet this man. She couldn't quite explain to herself why, but she shivered at the prospect of such an encounter.

  Chapter Six

  "Why did you drag me into this ordeal?" Josef complained, as always. "You should not have said to Father Isaiah we would help. As a part of that ‘we’, I must protest. There are plenty of young lads more equipped and idle enough to be instructed with this kind of labor."

  That was a rather impressive speech, not that Nathan would comment on it. "Could you please be quiet for a moment," Nathan said instead. "I am trying to calculate the exact measurements."

  Josef scoffed at him. "Are you aiming for sainthood? Is that it, Nate?" Josef continued to nag, ignoring Nathan's pleas. "If so, I do not want any part of it. Saints lead a very specific life, which is not for me."

  Nathan gave him the look, slowly losing patience and crossing his arms over his chest. Josef finally closed his mouth and kept it that way.

  Ah, the blessed silence. Although his expression said plenty. Luckily that was easily ignored. Where was I? Nathan asked himself, crouching down to inspect the work in front of him. Nathan was in the process of fixing old, rickety church benches and crafting a few new ones.

  He overheard Father Isaiah complaining at the poor condition of his church, so he offered his help. Josef's too, naturally; which was the cause of his current disdain. He wanted to spend his afternoons in some other place, not in a churchyard.

  Luckily, Nathan was the boss of him and not the other way around.

  Suddenly, Josef became very animated beside him, and Nathan looked up to see what his friend was up to now. I really can't take him anywhere, he's worse than a babe, Nathan thought in exasperation.

  "A carriage from Crownsville just arrived," Josef provided the explanation. "Do you want to see if there are some new arrivals?" He wiggled his eyebrows, his meaning pretty clear.

  Nathan wished the fool would stop seeking a wife for him. He was unmarried himself, why not focus on that? "What do you think?" Nathan snapped back.

  "You are very old for your age," Josef observed. "Let's go and see who came to our lovely town."

  Nathan wanted to grab him by the ear and shake him since he was acting like a brat. "Leave ogling to the young lads," Nathan jibed back. "You don't have time for that."

  "I don't?"

  "No. Come here and help me carry this one back inside," he ordered, and surprisingly Josef complied. Alas, if a look could kill then Nathan would be struck dead. Nate held his breath just in case.

  "Yes, Saint Nate, I am com
pletely at your disposal," Josef grumbled, helping Nathan pick up a bench before carrying it back into the church now that it was all fixed.

  The carriage finally entered the town of Helena and stopped by a very small inn, and Beatrice simply could not believe it. We actually arrived! And without being discovered! Or so she prayed.

  Of course, this didn't mean their journey was over. They still had to find her uncle's ranch, but still, it felt monumental to finally be in Helena.

  Leaving the carriage, Beatrice stretched. Every part of her body felt stiff and aching. She felt like she would rather go by foot anywhere from now on simply to avoid being inside a stifling carriage ever again. But all pain was soon forgotten upon taking in the lively town around her.

  "Come and visit me and my shop once you settle in, my dear," Madame Mab offered.

  "Yes, of course," Beatrice replied instantly, and tried to remember to do so.

  Despite her strange bravado, Madame Mab was a very kind, loving woman, and Beatrice would very much like to see and converse with her again. Because she led a very fascinating life, Beatrice believed she could learn a great deal from her. After saying their final goodbyes, they went their separate ways.

  "I will ask around if there is an available coachman to take us to your uncle's ranch. What is that place called again?"

  "Thunderbolt Ranch," Beatrice replied.

  "Right," Elaine said as if just remembering herself. "Oh, and if you plan on exploring, please stay close by," she added, fully knowing how Beatrice could get distracted.

  Beatrice grinned in return. "I promise."

  With that settled, Beatrice set to do a little bit of exploring. Yes, she was certain that in days to come she would get fully acquainted with the city of Helena, but she was too curious at the moment to let this small opportunity pass. She walked what was certainly the main street, since there was a lot of activity in it and shops were respectfully placed alongside it.

  Up ahead, Beatrice could see a small square that ended with a church. It was quite lovely, simple and painted all in white. On each side of the street were all kinds of shops and a tavern, and she slowed down her pace to take in all of it.

  Beatrice cheered when she spotted Madame Mab's shop. A few women were patiently standing in front, waiting for her to open, which she did. To Beatrice's surprise, she learned Madame Mab was a widow and took care of her shop all by herself.

  She greeted each and every customer as if they were all very dear friends—and maybe they were—before inviting them inside. Then she spotted Beatrice across the street and waved.

  Beatrice returned the gesture. She was very much aware she became somewhat of a curiosity to other women, but she ignored that, continuing with her expedition.

  From somewhere she could smell freshly baked bread, and she let her nose find the source as her stomach started to growl, reminding her that quite some time had passed since she last ate.

  Not being able to help herself, she entered the shop and bought a loaf of bread. It was still quite warm to the touch and she bit into it unceremoniously.

  Mother would have a fit, if she could only see me now, eating like this. As if she was some kind of street rat and not a well-respected young lady. Yet, Beatrice didn't care since the bread was really tasty, and she was hungry. Her belly practically sang in return.

  Suddenly a stray dog, completely yellow, appeared in front of her. Beatrice was never afraid of dogs, but on the other hand, this pooch was big, and she didn't know him. He didn't attempt to come at her or make any noises, simply looked at her, perhaps a bit unfriendly and Beatrice paused, not really sure what to do.

  Oh, it's just a dog, Beatrice, probably hungry. Just like you.

  "Hello," she decided to engage with the animal.

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you," a male voice said from her left, startling her.

  Beatrice turned to see a man standing very close by, an expression of alarm on his face, which put Beatrice in a similar state instantly.

  The man looked quite strange. His clothes were plain and very stained, yet his posture was almost regal. He had distinctively red hair, which was quite unruly, and a pair of large, green eyes. She could see their color even from where she was standing. Taking all that in, it took her a heartbeat or two to process what he actually said.

  "I beg your pardon?" she replied eventually.

  "I wouldn't engage with that beast if I were you," he said to her.

  "Why not?" Beatrice instantly returned her gaze at the dog. He doesn't look like a beast. So, she said as much. "It's just a dog."

  "Oh, that is so much more than just a dog. It's a wild prairie dog. And they are quite dangerous," he explained all in one breath.

  Beatrice could feel her heart start racing instantly. A wild dog? Dangerous?

  Oh my, what am I to do?

  "But do not be alarmed," the man continued to speak, seeing the distress he caused. "If you do exactly as I say, maybe he won't attack you."

  Maybe?! "Maybe?"

  "They are highly unpredictable." The man took a step forward and that caused the wild dog to move as well.

  Beatrice stifled a scream. I do not want to be eaten by a wild dog. "Please sir, I put myself into your hands."

  "I will do my best. Here, take my hand," he offered and she took it without a thought.

  "What now," she urged.

  The dog cocked his head and decided to take another step forward, and Beatrice really started to panic.

  Should I offer it my bread?

  At the same time, a very old man exited a shop carrying the same bread she had. "Come on, Jack," he called out whistling. And the dog instantly forgot about a silly woman and dashed to meet his owner.

  Beatrice realized what was happening instantly. The man was pulling her leg, and that filled her with fury. She turned to look at him and the truth was plain across his face. "Why you..." she started to speak yet was too enraged to finish that sentence. He almost caused her heart to burst thinking she was about to get mauled by some wild beast.

  Only then did she realize they were still holding hands. Beatrice released it instantly as if it was a piece of hot coal. The scoundrel had the audacity to laugh at her.

  "I apologize but couldn't help myself..." he started to speak, yet Beatrice stopped him midway.

  "You know, there is a special ring of hell for people as yourself," she snapped and turned away from him, walking the same way she came from. She couldn't stop fuming.

  How dare he? She felt like returning and telling him exactly what she thought about his little jest, yet at the same time she wasn't about to reveal how worried she really became. Nor did she turn to see if he was still there or if he continued with his day as if nothing happened.

  Her heart still raced from that unfortunate encounter with that awful man, not an innocent dog, as she quickly returned to the place where Elaine already waited for her.

  "Where on earth did you go?" Elaine was not pleased with her, and at the moment neither was Beatrice. She was too trustworthy, she realized.

  "I was worried sick," Elaine snapped which was something that was not ordinary for her, and Beatrice was not so easily fooled. It showed how tired they both were.

  "I'm sorry Elaine. I felt peckish, so I bought myself a loaf of bread at the bakery. It's delicious," and that was really something coming from her since she had the opportunity to dine at some really lavish parties back in New York. And their own cook was rather skillful as well.

  Beatrice offered the bread, or what was left of it, as a peace offering, and the governess took it. She started to eat just as Beatrice did before her, and that made her smile. They would both be scolded by Sarah Foster for that kind of behavior.

  Thinking about her mom wiped the smile off her face. It was still too painful to think about her, about both of them. Beatrice decided to keep the rest of her story to herself. She wasn't about to share how some man managed to have a laugh with her. Thinking about “that fiend” made her
angry again.

  No, stop it, she said to herself. No need to stress any further about some local riff-raff.

  "Come," Elaine instructed. "That man," she gestured with her head. "Will take us to the ranch. His name is Douglas Michelson, and it is on the way to his own home." Beatrice was cheered by the prospect of finally going there. The man in question waved back, seeing the attention was on him. He looked quite old, dressed in overalls that were two sizes two big, yet agile.

  Picking up her things, which were few, to begin with, Beatrice and Elaine walked the short distance to the waiting coach and their coachman which looked rather sunburn yet pleasant looking helped them settle in the cart and they were off.

  Nathan looked after the infuriating girl as she rode off. He was still in high spirits for some reason while he replayed their short interaction.

  Who is she? He wondered.

  He didn't know the answer to that question, but he was about to find out.

  The ranch was… well, she didn't quite know what to expect as they went through the gate. It was a simple wooden frame that was tall enough for even the biggest wagons to go through, and on its peak was a board that stated they were welcomed to the Thunderbolt Ranch.

  As they continued down the road, a small chit chat with their driver continued. "I did not expect it to be so big," Beatrice couldn't contain her wonder.

  "Yes, ma'am, one of the largest cattle ranches in the country"

  "Splendid."

  As if to prove his point, some of the aforementioned cattle could be seen simply roaming about, eating dry grass when the house finally came into view.

  "Oh, it's lovely," Beatrice whispered.

  She couldn't explain why, but she got a very distinct sense of finally being at home from the instant she spotted it in the distance.

  It was a simple two-story building with a big porch that surrounded it. It was painted a bright yellow that absolutely radiated in the sun, which was quite appealing. Beatrice could see side houses as well, and a big red barn to the left of the house.

 

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