Finding the Broken Cowboy

by Cassidy Hanton

  "You," she breathed out that single word as if it was the vilest insult.

  He inclined his head, looking at her from head to toe. She did not appreciate being scrutinized in such a fashion.

  "I have to say, Miss," he started conversationally. "Looking at you the other day, I would not believe there was a lady hidden behind all that dirt and rag."

  Beatrice's eyes widened in surprise; she could not believe he just told her that. "I wish I could say the same to you, Sir, however that would be an utter lie since no matter the attire, you are still a scoundrel," she snapped back. "Excuse me," she tried to walk past him, unfortunately, he would not let her.

  He shook his head as if troubled. "I don't know what came over me, I must ap..."

  Tom Foster entered inside at that moment, interrupting them. Clearly, Beatrice was held up too long, a notion that vexed her even further. Her Uncle smiled when he spotted her company.

  "Nathan, I see you are fashionably late," her uncle jested, and the other man looked embarrassed, which took her by surprise.

  "Just overworked," he defended himself.

  "It is good to see you," Uncle Tom continued. "And I see you already met my niece, Beatrice, she came visiting from New York."

  Nathan? Beatrice mind spiraled. Please, he can't be… The other man offered one of his smiles again and a low bow while her uncle continued to speak.

  "Beatrice, this is one of the finest men in Helena, Nathan Walsh." Beatrice gawked at him. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

  "It's an honor to meet you, Miss Beatrice," Nathan Walsh stated.

  This is Nathan Walsh? The man she heard so much about is the man who embarrassed her. Twice now. Oh no.

  "Pleased to meet you, too," Beatrice rushed over the pleasantries, then turned toward her uncle. "Uncle, did Auntie send you? I will go look for her shawl immediately," she added. That was a great way for her to move away from Mr. Walsh. Mr. Walsh… the name sounded ridiculous to her.

  "No need, sweetie, you stay and keep Nathan some company while I take care of your aunt," Uncle Tom said cheerfully then dashed away before she got an opportunity to protest.

  Blast! She wanted to curse. What am I to do now?

  Mr. Nathan Walsh looked at her with amusement, so Beatrice composed herself. This time she was not going to let him get the best of her, this time she would win.

  Nathan was very pleased with this turn of events. By the looks of it, he was the only one.

  His mystery girl, whom he then knew was called Beatrice Foster, made a sour face hearing his name. She composed rather quickly, raising her chin ever so slightly, yet that was not the reaction he was hoping for. Not that he could blame her after the way he acted. He managed to scare her half to death with his idiotic jest, and now he insulted her when all he wanted to do was apologize, and that was honest to God truth.

  Looking at her now, something occurred to him. Did he really scare her that much the other day? She was scared, yes, yet she was quick to follow his lead, instantly trusting him, and there were no tears involved as one would expect from a fragile lady in distress.

  Afterward, when she realized the truth, her face became all flushed and eyes sparkly, and there was no hesitation on her part to put him in his place. He couldn't believe he failed to notice all that before. Beatrice was embarrassed he managed to do that to her. Nathan caught her off guard and she didn't appreciate that one bit. The fear was secondary for her, and that showed character.

  Interesting, he mused. Realizing all this cheered him to no end for some reason. "Miss Beatrice…" Nathan started, but all of a sudden he felt tongue-tied. All he needed to do was apologize and hope she would accept it. A part of him doubted such an outcome very much. Especially after today. What got into you? You, loon! He chastised himself. Simply apologize, and when she says no, work for it.

  "I.." Nathan tried again.

  Her chin rose even higher. "Excuse me, I believe Madame Mab is calling for me," and with that, she walked away. That was a lie of course, since his ears worked splendidly, and he did not hear anything.

  That cheeky girl, Nathan thought, looking after her. He deserved that, Nathan was aware of that. "You are an idiot," he muttered to himself, wanting to smack himself across the forehead. All he had to do was say — I apologize for my poor behavior, there is no excuse for it, and I pray you will find it in your heart to forgive me, so we can start anew.

  Is that really so hard to pronounce? Apparently, yes. But why? What was so special about Beatrice Foster that made him behave in such an unusual fashion? He did not know the answer to that question. At least, not yet.

  Nathan wanted to go after her even though a part of him warned it was a terrible idea, considering he enraged her with his comment yet again. Me and my big mouth! Truth be told, she looked lovely, divine even. Alas, this rational part of the brain stopped working the minute he saw her. This damn fool took his place instead.

  Deciding he still wanted to speak with her anew, he exited the house and started searching for her in the garden. Unfortunately, Madame Mab's garden resembled a forest, so it took him awhile.

  Suddenly, Miss Susannah appeared in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. Nathan greeted her politely. She looked rather pleased to see him and quite animatedly started to tell him something, yet his mind was elsewhere.

  "Can we continue this at some later time, I am needed elsewhere, do pardon me," Nathan said in one breath, excusing himself when he saw Beatrice. The angels must have conspired against him because Josef appeared in front of him next, seemingly out of nowhere, yet again preventing him to reach his goal.

  "What is with you?" He demanded.

  Nathan wanted to know the same thing. What was with all the people today? Why all the interruptions? Was God having a rest day and decided to play for a bit with him?

  "Are you having a great time?" Nathan tried to deflect, yet Josef saw right through that.

  "I saw you conversing with Miss Susannah. What was that all about?"

  Nathan had no clue. He didn't hear a word she said to him, just as he wasn't listening to Josef now. He found her! Madame Mab was telling her something, and she was nodding back. Miraculously Madame Mad looked at him next and waved for him to join them.

  "I have to go, my friend, the hostess is asking for me," he murmured while he was already halfway there.

  "You waved," he joked, yet Beatrice did not even bat an eyelash. Tough crowd, just as he feared.

  "Nathan would you be a dear and help Josef bring out my piano to the patio. Beatrice is going to play something for us."

  "Certainly," Nathan replied as Beatrice said. "That is quite all right, I do not need a piano." Was she refusing because of him? Nathan couldn't help but wonder.

  "Your Elaine said you prefer to play while you sing," Madame Mab argues. "You do not have to be shy, my dear."

  "Sometimes, I do," Beatrice hedged. "But I planned on singing something a bit different," she explained without revealing too much.

  "Are you sure?" Madame Mab wanted to make sure. "I'm sure Nathan doesn't mind the labor."

  "He doesn't," Nathan agreed. Unfortunately, she completely ignored him.

  "I am," she told Madame Mab, and the matter was settled.

  I will definitely have to double up my efforts… Not that he minded.

  Beatrice took a deep breath. She could just spit how mad she was. The initial shock still refused to wear off; she still couldn't quite believe that the man she heard so much about turned out to be… Him. Beatrice couldn't even look at him, without getting annoyed all over again.

  And the thing he told her this evening? Outrageous! The man had no manners at all!

  Madame Mab announced Beatrice would be singing, and everyone settled down to listen, thus successfully snapping her from her reverie. Beatrice remained standing on the porch. Unfortunately, she could see with the corner of her eye how Mr. Walsh settled on the porch as well, nonchalantly leaning against the supportive beam and her ja
w clenched.

  Relax, Beatrice. He is of no importance, and that helped her focus.

  Since she did not have a piano, and she refused one to be carried out, to not be in Mr. Walsh's debt in any way, Beatrice decided to sing something different from what she usually sang to her parents' friends.

  Besides, something was telling her the usual repertoire would bore this crowd to death. It was not to suggest these fine people had no taste, they simply preferred to enjoy different things, which was more than fine with her.

  So she decided to sing one of the Highland folk songs that Elaine taught her. She used to sing her all sorts of songs as lullabies when she was little, but this one was one of her favorites. Closing her eyes, Beatrice finally opened her mouth and started to sing.

  Chapter Ten

  Beatrice started singing. Softly at first, as the song required it, yet pretty soon she developed quite a momentum. She loved singing it since it allowed her to really let her voice out to its furthest reach. Overall, Beatrice rather enjoyed the whole experience.

  Luckily she was not the only one who relished her performance. There was not a dry eye amongst the townspeople of Helena when she finally sang the last note, which was followed by a heartbeat of silence.

  "You are an angel. Marvelous." Madame Mab was the first one who recovered and started applauding. Beatrice curtsied as everyone started to cheer.

  "Thank you, kindly," she replied to all.

  "Is there anything you can't do with perfection?" A man's voice asked behind her.

  Beatrice turned her head so she could look at Mr. Walsh over her shoulder. "Apparently, I cannot get far away from you," she replied instantly before walking away. Maybe that was a bit harsh, she started to doubt herself, yet it couldn't be helped. That man simply infuriated her. Besides, everyone was smitten by him, but Beatrice wasn't fooled. Nathan Walsh wasn't the man they all thought he was, plain and simple.

  Beatrice remembered to return a smile on her face before joining her aunt and uncle.

  "Your mother would be so proud," her Aunt Claudia complimented, and Uncle Tom nodded in agreement.

  "Thank you, Auntie."

  Throughout the evening, Beatrice could not shake the thoughts about Nathan Walsh from her mind. Perhaps it was all in her imagination, yet she felt as if he was stalking her all night.

  Is he afraid I would share my tale about our encounter and his poor behavior and thusly ruin his carefully cultivated reputation? Beatrice couldn't help but wonder, and she would never do that. She simply wasn't that kind of a woman. Besides, she felt embarrassed he got the best of her, and since the only thing bruised was her own pride, she would remain silent.

  "Dinner is ready," Madame Mab announced. Extra oil lamps were brought up and candles lit so they could stay outside to dine.

  Beatrice thought of it as magical, looking at the big spread lit by candlelight and surrounded by Madame Mab's beautiful garden. It was rather picturesque, and Beatrice wished there was some way she could capture it forever, as she strained really hard, trying to imprint as much as was possible to memory.

  Beatrice sat next to her aunt, wanting to make herself available if she started to get sick again, assuming Elaine would take the empty seat to her left. Alas, she was wrong.

  Unfortunately, Mr. Nathan Walsh appeared out of nowhere, yet again looking at the chair as a wolf would its prey. "Is this seat taken?" he inquired politely. Yes, she wanted to say, yet remained silent. Although she did not want, by any circumstances, to have him sitting next to her, she couldn't be openly rude toward him, despite the fact he deserved it.

  "Of course not, please, sit with us, Nathan," Aunt Claudia singsonged to Beatrice's chagrin.

  "Don't mind if I do," Nathan replied with a smile.

  "Beatrice does need some fresh company, closer to her own age, I believe she's grown tired of us."

  "Not at all, Auntie," Beatrice was quick to reassure her, ignoring her previous remark. She most certainly did not need fresh company, especially if it was the company of that man. Her aunt was only trying to help, she was aware of that, yet Beatrice rather wished, prayed even, for her to stop.

  Nathan Walsh sat down, fully turning toward her, a notion she ignored. Her napkin was far more fascinating at the moment. Just stay calm Beatrice, she urged herself. You handled an assassin, fled your home and traveled across the country in some rather poor conditions, Nathan Walsh does not even register on the same scale. That notion calmed her immensely.

  "How is your health, Mrs. Foster?" Nathan Walsh asked in concern. Is it real or false? Beatrice had to wonder.

  Aunt Claudia sighed. "Oh, my faints come and go, and it's a rather tiring experience, yet I learned to live with it. And tonight, I feel rather wonderful."

  "I am happy to hear that. You should get out more," Mr. Walsh suggested.

  "I do not want to be a burden to my family."

  They continued to talk over Beatrice, which annoyed her. She really wished he would go and sit someplace else, or maybe she could do that?

  "I am certain you are not," Nathan Walsh was quick to reassure her.

  "Of course not, Auntie," Beatrice felt the need to speak up. "We love you dearly, and Uncle Tom takes such good care of you."

  "That is true, I am fortunate to have such a wonderful husband. And now I have you, as well." Aunt Claudia patted her cheek. "Do you know," she continued addressing Nathan Walsh again, "that my dear niece works tirelessly on the ranch every day? For a city girl, she is quite humble and kind."

  "Really?" he countered, and Beatrice pretended she did not notice the true wonder in his voice. That was yet another slight, thinking she was useless. Just a porcelain doll, good for nothing. The nerve of that man! Yet she decided to let it go. There was no point in getting all riled up. He wanted that, so she wouldn't give him what he wanted the most.

  "I am happy to hear your niece is quite so versatile," he complimented.

  "Indeed." Aunt Claudia sighed again. "I just wish there is something else for her to do, other than follow her Uncle Tom all day at the ranch."

  Beatrice had to rebel to that. "I rather enjoy it. I learned a great deal already, and I like being of use."

  "I know, dear, but you need more in life than that," her aunt said in all seriousness, and Beatrice had to bite her tongue not to reply. She had so much more on her plate at the moment, it was overflooded; and the only way she could, at least for a bit, calm her troubled mind, was through work; and her aunt wanted her to have more time of leisure.

  I would go mad!

  "Nathan, we would love it if you could come sometime to the ranch to visit us and Beatrice."

  Beatrice, who was in the process of drinking some water, almost choked on it. She could not believe her aunt just did that. "Auntie…"

  Yet Beatrice did not get to finish her sentence because Mr. Walsh said. "It would be my pleasure. We could go riding together," he suggested gallantly.

  "I do not know how to ride a horse, but thank you for your kind offer," Beatrice replied triumphantly, hoping this would stop all further talks about him coming to see her.

  "That is quite easily remedied," he replied, not missing a beat. "I shall come and give you some riding lessons instead," he smiled inclining his head.

  Does he think this is a game? Beatrice's heart started beating a little faster. What will it take for this man to leave her alone?

  "I do not want to trouble you," Beatrice had to choose her words carefully since they were in such a large company.

  "It would be no trouble at all, but a pleasure." Nathan Walsh looked her straight in the eyes.

  Why is he acting in such fashion? Beatrice couldn't help but wonder, yet again.

  "Splendid," Aunt Claudia exclaimed. "That is quite generous of you, Nathan, and I am sure Beatrice is grateful for your help, as well."

  Beatrice was not grateful at all. Alas, she could not quite say that in front of her family. So, she simply smiled at her aunt and took a bite to eat from her plat
e. This was going to be one long night, and not because of the nightmares. Beatrice would have to stay up all night thinking. She will need to use all her wits to stop this madness from happening.

  Nathan felt like kissing Beatrice's aunt for providing such a great opportunity for him to spend some time with Beatrice Foster. The whole night he wracked his brain, causing himself a mighty migraine in the process, trying to come up with an excuse, and a rather good one at that, to come to the Fosters ranch to visit Beatrice.

  Who knew the opportunity would simply fall from the sky for him, all thanks to this delicate-looking kind woman. Perhaps there is such thing as the luck of the Irish, he joked.

  In all seriousness, Nathan knew he needed to make amends and show Beatrice he was not the man she thought of him to be. He couldn't quite fathom why that was of such importance to him, yet the urge to make things right was too vast to simply ignore it. So, naturally, when the opportunity arose he took it with both arms. Teaching Beatrice how to ride would be the best chance for him to show her who he really was.

  Beatrice Foster looked like she drank some vinegar during their exchange, as if not pleased what transpired between him and her aunt yet protested only in the boundaries of propriety. Nathan felt like laughing yet managed to suppress that urge. It was his, and his fault alone, that she disliked him, and it was also on him to remedy that by any means necessary.

  "Would you care for some more corn?" he offered, yet Beatrice simply shook her head no. She ignored him completely during dinner no matter how hard he tried. She wouldn't be able to ignore me tomorrow when I show up at her doorstep, he thought to himself with a strange kind of delight.

  "How about some beef?"

  "No, thank you."

  Actual words, maybe that's progress, he joked. Nathan was going to do everything in his power to right his wrongs and win Beatrice's affection. To this, he vowed.