Finding the Broken Cowboy

by Cassidy Hanton

  Despite the situation that forced her to this action, Beatrice was rather excited to be here, which was rather a strange feeling to be having, sadness and happiness at the same time.

  Beatrice had never visited a ranch before, her mother wouldn't allow it. When she was a bit younger, she begged her to go and visit Uncle Tom, yet Sarah Foster was deaf to her pleas. She deemed that farm life was beneath their stature and didn't want her only daughter in a place she thought of as unclean.

  Mr. Michelson proved to be quite a gem, talking about the history of Helena and its people. He proudly shared how his family was one of the founders and Beatrice found that quite intriguing. She asked him a great deal of questions, or as much as propriety allowed her to.

  Too quickly they finally stopped in front of the house. "Here we are," he announced, helping them down.

  Both women thanked him profusely, and he tipped his hat in return. Elaine tried to give him compensation for his troubles, yet he profusely refused.

  "Any family members of the Fosters are friends of mine," was his reply. After saying his goodbyes, the man drove away.

  With butterflies in her stomach, and with Elaine by her side, Beatrice reached the front door.

  It was a two doors kind of affair. The first one was more like a screen, preventing bugs and other creepy crawlies from entering, and the second was an actual crafted wooden door. Beatrice opened the first one and raised her hand to knock on the second, yet it was opened before she got the chance. A very petite blonde woman stood on the other side.

  "Good day," Beatrice greeted sheepishly. "Aunt Claudia?" She inquired. Quite some time passed since Beatrice saw her aunt last, she couldn't be quite sure the woman standing in front of her was she.

  The woman's eyes widened ever so slightly. "My name is Claudia Foster, but who may you be?" She replied slowly.

  "It's me, Beatrice Foster," Beatrice said, not wanting to force the woman to play the guessing game.

  "Beatrice?" Aunt Claudia replied in confusion. And then her face broke into a smile. "My, my, as I live and breathe," she rushed them inside. "Come in, don't stand out in that dreadful heat." They embraced.

  "I think I'm starting to get a little light-headed," Aunt Claudia continued to ramble. "You made me so happy." She actually stumbled on her feet, but Beatrice managed to catch her in time.

  "I'm quite all right," she reassured her. Beatrice didn't know she was so frail.

  "Tom, come quickly," Aunt Claudia called out.

  Beatrice stopped breathing as another person entered the hall to greet them.

  Chapter Seven

  A tall man came in, wiping his hands with a dishcloth. Beatrice felt the need to rub her eyes. It was quite eerie how much he resembled her late father, and that almost brought tears into her eyes.

  Uncle Tom was older, a bit more muscular since he was a rancher, had a few more gray hairs and his skin was a few shades darker from laboring in the sun all day, but the resemblance was still uncanny. Uncle Tom stopped once he discovered they had company.

  "Beatrice?" He inquired in wonder, and Beatrice nodded vigorously.

  "Yes, Uncle Tom, it is I."

  A smile appeared on his stern face. "By God, you look just like your mother." He spread his arms, and she flew into his embrace. It felt so good to be embraced by him, by someone that had the same blood coursing through his veins as her father and her.

  "Why didn't you send any words? Are you alone, sweetie? Where are your parents?" He asked in suspicion while petting her hair.

  Beatrice was so overcome with emotions the words simply spilled out of her mouth into the ether as tears streamed down her face. "Oh, Uncle Tom! I apologize for coming in such a manner, unannounced, but you see, I had nowhere else to go. I am in great danger and Mom and Dad…" Her voice broke so she had to try again. "Mom and Dad are dead, murdered."

  A shriek echoed through the room. Auntie fell to the ground. All of them rushed to her side to aid her. The rest was forgotten in those moments.

  Did she faint? Beatrice wondered in alarm.

  Uncle Tom picked his wife up and carried her into the receiving room to lay her down on the sofa. Elaine rushed away to get some sweetened water.

  "Should we call for a physician?" Beatrice asked her uncle, however Claudia's eyes fluttered open. Elaine was back with a glass of water and helped the fragile woman drink it. Aunt Claudia reached with her hand for Beatrice and she took it.

  "Such terrible news, you, poor child," she sobbed a little.

  Beatrice looked at her uncle again. "Should we call someone?" She asked again, but Aunt Claudia replied instead of him.

  "No. I am quite all right now, it was just a passing weakness." To emphasize her words, she squeezed Beatrice's hand.

  Yet, Beatrice still had her doubts. "Are you really all right?"

  She waved with her other hand. "It's my illness, it comes and goes, but I am well now. Do not trouble yourself with the thoughts of it any longer," she tried to reassure them all. Uncle Tom looked reassured, so Beatrice took it at face value as well. He turned toward her now that the incident with his wife was settled.

  "I want you to tell me everything about what happened to you, my brother and his sweet wife," Uncle Tom commanded.

  Sighing, Beatrice nodded. "Yes, uncle." Despite Beatrice's protests, Auntie joined in on that conversation. Sitting at the kitchen table, Uncle Tom patiently waited for her to have some supper before asking her again to explain what happened. So, she did.

  It was very difficult to express everything she was feeling with mere words. The images kept dancing in front of her eyes, and it was as if she was reliving all of them once again. At times she had to pause to collect herself, and her audience waited patiently for her to manage that and continue with her narrative.

  Uncle Tom took her hand at some point, offering his strength and support in silence, and she was grateful. At times like these that was all one needed. The knowledge you are not alone. He remained calm throughout her tale.

  The only indicator showing his true emotions was the subtle redness of his face. Unfortunately, he was increasingly getting redder as her story continued to evolve.

  It was hard telling Uncle Tom about being tormented by some madman inside her own house, yet it was almost unbearable to describe for him the discovery of her parents' lifeless bodies, while feeling such deep feelings of despair and powerlessness. That was something she never wanted to feel in her life again, and she felt guilty to be inflicting such pain to someone else in return, just by sharing her story.

  "You poor child," Aunt Claudia sobbed, taking her other hand before she placed that same hand on her own forehead.

  "Are you all right, Auntie?" Beatrice wanted to know.

  "I feel lightheaded again. I can only imagine how you must feel."

  Nobody could. But that was quite alright. Beatrice didn't want this type of pain inflicted on anyone.

  "Would you care for another glass of water?" Beatrice asked her.

  "Aren't you just the sweetest!"

  Uncle Tom remained sitting down, quiet, looking at Beatrice's hand that he was still holding, and that troubled her. She caused such havoc to this family. Maybe I shouldn't have come…

  "I am terribly sorry for disturbing your peace, for burdening you in such manner, but I was really desperate and in need of safe haven," Beatrice tried to justify herself.

  He suddenly looked at her, incredulously. "Never apologize. We are family, sweetie. And, of course, you can stay here, forever if you will," he offered with a small smile.

  Even though there was no doubt in her mind that would be the case, it was still good to hear him say that to her. It calmed her on such a deep level. A level she wasn't even aware existed.

  "Thank you, Uncle Tom," she expressed her gratitude from the bottom of her heart.

  He patted her on the cheek. "Claudia will take care of your accommodations, fix you up into your rooms so you can remain here, where it's safe," Uncle Tom said,
then looking away. His face became remorseful. "I should have made an effort and stayed in touch," he said softly as if that would change the course of destiny.

  Beatrice wished there was some way to reassure him. "None of this is your fault, Uncle Tom," she replied honestly, but he shook with his head.

  "Maybe I should travel back to New York and try to push the investigation forward. See if there is any news," It was clear he was thinking out loud in order to process everything, yet Beatrice was becoming alarmed. She didn't want him to go anywhere.

  Aunt Claudia shared her sentiment, making a subtle noise like a field mouse in surprise. "Tom!" Aunt Claudia said sternly. "You cannot do that! We need you here…"

  However, he interrupted her. “This is my younger brother we're speaking about. Despite the fact that we haven't seen one another in a long time, I still love him. "

  "No one is arguing that," Claudia Foster countered.

  "Someone harmed his family, mine as well," he sighed, placing his head into his hands. "There has to be something I can do."

  "Uncle Tom, please calm down," Beatrice tried to plead with him.

  He lifted his head to look at her. "Beatrice, I will make sure that you are safe from harm's way, just as my brother wished you to be," he promised with fiery eyes, and Beatrice was convinced.

  Nathan wanted to ram his head into the brick wall. Not that he had one available. But still, that was the sentiment he was having and more to the point, he wanted to do it again and again.

  Now that the dust settled, so to speak, he couldn't quite believe he behaved in such manner with a woman, any woman for that matter, yet especially with that one in particular for some reason.

  You acted like a juvenile fool! He chastised himself. Nathan was mortified and cross at himself all at the same time.

  It must be some type of temporary insanity, because there was no other explanation. That would have to satisfy him. You are an utter scoundrel, Nate, frightening her like that.

  Nathan really couldn't explain what came over him, but the instant he saw her eating with such pure delight, he felt the need to engage with her in some fashion. Sadly, he blew it.

  He would be lucky if the poor girl ever spoke to him again after the way he played with her. If I ever see her again, Nathan corrected himself. How strange, his heart was pounding a bit irregularly.

  "Why the long face? Lost your favorite spurs again?" Josef jibed.

  And Nathan opened his mouth to tell him the truth but held his tongue. You are insane, a complete loon, he snapped at himself. Josef would gloat until the end of days if he told him about a girl he met in Helena.

  "Actually, it was my favorite hat, but that is quite all right. I'll simply take yours," Nathan replied instead with a straight face, and Josef quickly lost all interest.

  "Are you comin'?" Josef inquired.

  No, Nathan wanted to say. He wanted to stay right where he was, on his porch, running himself mad with all kinds of questions about his mystery girl. Not that she was his.

  Get a grip of yourself, Nathan. You are acting like a damn fool. "Yes. Let's go," he said with a sigh, standing up.

  There was work to be done, and who knew, maybe then he could forget about some stupid thing he did. Unfortunately, he feared the chances of something like that occurring were very small.

  Beatrice looked at her uncle. He is such a fine man. There must be some way to repay his kindness. At present, he looked haunted, lost among his thoughts, and Beatrice could relate. They all had haunting ghosts.

  "Tom, what are you thinking about so profusely?" Aunt Claudia wanted to know.

  He shrugged. "I still believe there is something I must do to remedy this. Yes, Benjamin and I haven't spoken in a long time, yet I still feel I owe him as much.”

  "You cannot possibly go to New York and leave me here alone," Aunt Claudia jumped to conclusions.

  "No, I was not planning on going, that was a silly notion, but perhaps send words," Uncle Tom replied.

  Yet that didn't sit well with Beatrice. "I do believe that would be unwise, Uncle."

  He looked at her not fully understand her meaning. "This is something I must do for my family," he was adamant.

  Beatrice wanted to reply yet struggled to find proper words. Luckily a very stubborn Scottish woman knew just what to say, and how, instead.

  "Mr. Foster," Elaine started, in her usual calm way. "Take just one moment to think about what you would be doing."

  "I simply want to know what happened to my brother and his wife," he countered instantly. Beatrice wanted that too, however she strongly believed this was not the proper way to achieve it.

  "If Benjamin was in some kind of trouble, why didn't he ask for help!?" Uncle Tom continued, unaware of her little reverie, yet his words snapped her out of it.

  Uncle Tom is feeling guilty, Beatrice realized, and wasn't the only one.

  "This tragedy isn't something any of us could foresee," Elaine tried to reassure him. It was apparent he wanted to argue back, yet Elaine didn't let him have a chance. "Besides, if you write to the lawman in New York, you will be endangering your family. Your niece, Beatrice."

  His eyes widened in surprise; he had not expected to hear something as such.

  "I do implore you to think about it," Elaine continued. "If you start your inquiry now, demanding answers, whoever is searching for Beatrice will know she reached out to you, and then she will be discovered here."

  "Over my dead body," he grumbled.

  "And then all of this would be in vain," Elaine spoke over him, still using that same calm stern way of hers.

  Tom Foster took a deep breath and then another. Eventually, still frowning, he lowered his head again. Beatrice detested seeing him so defeated and in pain. Alas, that was something they all were feeling at the moment.

  "You will help Beatrice the most if you do not reveal her location and make sure she is safe and protected here," Elaine concluded.

  "But I cannot simply sit around and do nothing. I will go mad!" His voice shook ever so slightly.

  "I want to learn why this is happening to our family as well, Uncle Tom." Beatrice decided to voice her opinion. "Yet, I do believe we need to wait a bit for the dust to settle before returning to the city."

  "We?" Uncle Tom asked in confusion.

  "Yes," Beatrice replied, nodding. "I would very much like your help, Uncle Tom, in discovering who did this to Mom and Dad."

  "Of course," he replied instantly, without a thought. "It will be as you wish. We will lay low for a while and then find a way to uncover the truth," he proclaimed.

  The three women collectively sighed in relief.

  "You gave me quite a scare," Aunt Claudia complained.

  Uncle Tom walked over and kissed his wife on the forehead. "I'm sorry, Claudia, I wasn't thinking straight."

  "I forgive you, you, old fool," she replied and that lightened the mood ever so slightly, making them all smile.

  After the matter was settled, Aunt Claudia took Beatrice to do what she craved the most— refresh herself with a nice warm bath.

  The water was heated for her in the huge fireplaces then poured in the wooden tub. She felt like crying tears of joy stripping her ragged clothes and submerging into that pure delight. "Oh, my," she exclaimed.

  Elaine helped her scrub her back then washed her hair with the bar of the most fragrant lavender soap she ever used. It soothed her skin and mind like nothing else could. Beatrice helped the old woman do the same once she was finished.

  The Thunderbolt Ranch residents, old and new, reassembled afterward and spent the rest of the evening remembering the good old days, when Beatrice's father and Uncle Tom were young lads and causing all kinds of trouble. Naturally, there was some crying, grieving involved as well. It brought them all closer together as a family.

  "How are James and Magdalena?" Beatrice asked at some point. They were Uncle Tom and Aunt Claudia's children.

  "Mag just sent word that she is with child again,"
Aunt Claudia answered with pride. "And James just got promoted in the bank he works at. He settled last spring as well."

  Beatrice was glad to hear her cousins were happy.

  "I just wish they lived closer to home," Uncle Tom added. "Would be nice to see them more often."

  He loves his children very much, Beatrice thought to herself.

  While Uncle Tom spoke about his children, he had a very distinctive twinkle in his eyes. Her father had looked at her in the same fashion. And she was glad they were the same in that regard as well.

  They really are two pieces cut from the same cloth. Being with Uncle Tom made her miss her father more, yet less at the same time.

  When Beatrice couldn't stay up any longer, she said her goodnights and retired to her room.

  Thanks to all the excitement that became a part of her life, Beatrice had no trouble falling asleep, even though the last image before her dreams claimed her were of that scoundrel that played tricks on her. That made her blood boil.

  She didn't like being painted a fool. Unfortunately, once she fell asleep, the nightmares started to come. In them, no matter how hard she tried, ran, begged for help, she simply couldn't get away from the assassin that was upon her, hunting her relentlessly, simply waiting for an opportunity to end her life and reunite her with her parents.

  Beatrice woke up in a cold sweat, screaming from the top of her lungs. And sadly, that wasn't the only time she did that.

  Chapter Eight

  For days, Nathan tried to go to Helena at all times during the day and night in hopes he would get a chance to see his mystery lady again.

  He called her that despite the fact she did not look like one. Her clothes were plain and rather raggedy. And she ate in the middle of the road as if she was famished to death. Yet, there was something distinct about her. Something that suggested she was more than meets the eye, and that intrigued him.