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Love Inspired Historical October 2015 Box Set Page 20
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“I suppose not.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, looking up at him again. A tear spilled over and he reached for her, raised his hand to brush it away.
He hadn’t meant to make her cry.
But she flinched, and he let his hand fall to his side. “Last time I left you told me not to come back,” he said.
She still wouldn’t meet his gaze. He felt the distance between them yawning like that dangerous, overflowing creek.
“I’d like to have permission to come back this time.”
Slowly, she shook her head. Swiped at another errant tear. “It’s not a good idea.”
“Cath—”
“I appreciate what you wanted to do today, but this was a bad idea. And so is you coming back.”
His head knocked back as if she’d physically struck him. Maybe he even took a step back, and then she was looking up at him, her eyes sorrowful.
“It’s not that I’m not grateful. I am. Without your help—and your family—we might’ve starved this winter. But you saw what Pop did—”
Was he wrong to want to try to grow this relationship between them? Jonas had encouraged today’s visit, had thought they could kill two birds with one stone: introduce Catherine into the family, and help her with the homestead. But everything had gone hopelessly wrong after Pop’s outburst.
She blinked. She’d shown him more emotion today than almost the entire time he’d been with her before.
“What did you think would happen after today? That we’d grow closer?” she asked.
He’d hoped.
“Maybe you thought if you were able to come visit—” she swallowed audibly “—come courting, then eventually we’d get married?”
He hadn’t thought that far ahead. But it wasn’t a bad idea. He wanted a family, as his brothers had. And Catherine could use the help.
“I wasn’t going to push you into it, not like—” Ralph.
She waved away that stray thought. “Do you really think you could be content to live isolated out here?”
No. He hated the thought of being so alone, so vulnerable. He’d thought it over and over again, how vulnerable Catherine was to Ralph’s threats because they were so far out of town with hardly any neighbors, no one to rely on.
“But Pop—”
“I think after today it’s pretty obvious that Pop can’t be around people.”
He wasn’t imagining the wobble of her lip as she said the words. She did care. But she was also right. The obstacles stacked between them seemed insurmountable.
Which left him with nothing left to do but say goodbye.
He couldn’t just leave. He wrapped her shoulders in his arm. A friendly hug, in contrast to how he’d embraced her earlier when they’d kissed.
He kissed the crown of her hair. Tried to think of any argument that would hold water.
But in the end, he simply mounted up and set off for home.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Three days after the barn raising, Catherine still woke to conflicting emotions. Partly, a state of disbelief at how the homestead had changed. The worries that she’d had about housing the animals and feeding them through the winter had disappeared, thanks to Matty’s help and the help of his family.
The other part was grief. She had harbored some small hope that Pop wasn’t as bad off as she’d thought him to be, but the doctor’s examination had only confirmed her worst fears.
She attempted to bury her grief in work. With the help planting the wheat field, she’d recovered all the time lost to the first wave of storms that had come through. And the barn was amazing. Snug, watertight, strong enough to survive the sometimes-blistering Wyoming winds.
Which meant her sense of urgency had waned. Today she would perform more normal tasks like making bread and washing clothes.
But first, her investigation. Last night, just before sundown, she’d noticed a wisp of smoke dissolving into the sky. Too close to be one of the Chestertons. Unless one of them was trespassing on her property.
Now it was just after dawn, and she’d snuck through the brush and woods, thinking she must be right upon the trespasser.
And then she literally stumbled over him as she stepped over an old rotted log, twisting and landing on her rump with an “Oof!”
“What—”
She scrambled backward, unable to get a look at the man wrapped in his bedroll, now struggling to get free of the blanket.
She sought a branch or something to use to protect herself among the fallen leaves—she’d only wanted to get a look at the trespasser. She hadn’t brought a weapon.
But then his head poked out of the blanket. That tousled brown hair, those brown eyes—it was Matty’s brother.
“Seb! What’re you doing here?”
He finally kicked free of the blanket and sat up, rubbing his face with both hands. He wore trousers and a woolen shirt so like Matty’s that Catherine’s heart thumped once, hard.
“I, uh…” He reached for his boots, turning each one upside down before stuffing them on his feet.
Now that she was looking, she saw his horse tethered several yards away, and the ashes from a small campfire. That must’ve been the smoke she’d seen last night.
He seemed to be alone, but… “Is Matty with you?”
“Naw.”
The momentary hope she’d harbored dissipated.
He crossed his arms over his knees.
She mirrored his pose several feet away. “Then what are you doing here?”
He exhaled loudly. Ran one hand through his hair and then seemed to realize he wasn’t wearing his hat. He reached for it where it sat on top of the fallen log that had blocked her view of him—that’s why she’d tripped on him in the first place.
And that’s when she saw the rifle leaning in the fork of two branches.
Realization rushed over her in a wave. “Matty sent you. To watch out for me.”
“Yep.” His expression was slightly chagrined, but he didn’t sound apologetic.
She shook her head but couldn’t help the small smile that wanted to play about her lips. She’d told Matty not to return, but once again, he’d ignored her.
Unlike Chesterton’s threats, Matty made her feel cared for. Somehow he saw beneath the walls she showed to everyone else and knew that she was afraid of her neighbor.
“I think he woulda rather been here himself, but the sheriff’s got him hunting down some missing cattle. Rustlers been hitting up some of the smaller ranches closer to town.”
“So you’re…camping? For how long?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. Couple days. Oscar’s going to swap with me.”
What? She shook her head, standing up. “It’s a lot of trouble over nothing.”
“It ain’t that much trouble when you consider how upset Matty would be if something happened to you.”
She rolled her eyes, but deep inside she did feel…protected. But it was probably over nothing.
“My seed wheat was swept away in the flood. With the field replanted and the new barn…the only things of value I have that could be taken are my livestock.”
“Or yourself. I think Matty’s worried you were the target all along.”
She laughed at the ludicrous statement. “But why? I think you’re wasting your time.”
“Matty don’t. And a man’s gotta trust his gut.”
She realized she wasn’t going to change the young cowboy’s mind, so she stood, brushing off her pant legs where leaves and dirt clung. “I suppose if you’re staying, the least I can offer you is a cup of coffee.”
*
Two days later, Catherine finished filleting the two perch she’d caught with Pop. They’d taken advantage of the sunny morning and spent hours next to the gurgling stream. After days of slipping in and out of his memories, he’d been remarkably lucid, and she was thankful for the time spent in quiet activity.
Now the midday sun beat against her uncovered head. She’d sent Pop ahead t
o stir the fire and peel some potatoes while she finished with the fish.
Her mind had wandered to Matty—was he eating the noon meal with his boisterous family right about now?—and she didn’t register the presence of another until it was too late.
Strong hands grabbed her from behind, immobilizing her arms.
She shrieked and flailed, kicking out her feet. She connected with what might be a shin, but whoever had grabbed her only grunted.
“Let—me—go!” she cried out.
“Who’s gonna make me?” came a growled voice she recognized. “Your cowboy ain’t here to save you.”
Ralph Chesterton, just as Matty had thought.
A frisson of fear traveled through her. She hadn’t seen Seb since that first morning she’d come upon him. He’d said another of the brothers would be coming to relieve him, but what if something had happened? What if Matty had agreed that he’d been worried about nothing and told the brothers to return home?
“Get your hands off me!” she cried again, struggling and twisting, to no avail.
He only laughed, an ugly, desperate sound.
“Ralph!”
Ralph whirled at the second voice, taking her with him, her back to his chest. She experienced a dizzying rush. Floyd stood yards away, his hand raised with a finger in front of his lips.
“Quiet!” Floyd growled. “I think someone’s coming.”
The band of Ralph’s arms around her made breathing difficult. Catherine tried to breathe shallowly.
“Probably that feeble granddad of hers. Just get a sturdy branch and hit him over the head.”
No! Catherine couldn’t let them hurt Pop.
Floyd scrabbled around in the underbrush.
“What do you want?” She croaked the words, her voice raspy because he still held her so tightly. “Grain’s. Gone.”
“You.” Ralph shook her, rattling her down to her bones. “You been teasing me the last six, seven months. Traipsing around in those men’s clothing—it’s indecent.”
“Told you. No marriage.”
Floyd had found a large, lopsided branch and now wielded it like a mallet. If Pop was anywhere within hearing distance, she prayed he would stay away.
“Figure if you’re so opposed to marriage, there are other ways to break you.” He ran his nose along the line of her cheek and she shuddered in revulsion. She jerked her head to the side and that’s when she saw a shadow moving through the underbrush. Seb!
“I aim to have what I want from you.” He shook her again and she coughed.
“Ralph—” Floyd started, but a cold voice had both brothers freezing in place.
“That’s enough.”
It had come from the opposite direction Catherine had seen movement. Who?
“Get your hands off her.” The voice sounded familiar, but Matty had so many brothers…
“You gonna shoot both of us?”
The metallic click of a gun being cocked rang loud in the stillness.
Another voice, this from the opposite direction. “You get away from her.” That was Seb for sure.
Catherine was released, but as her feet hit the ground her legs refused to support her and she collapsed, catching herself on her hands and knees. She coughed and spluttered as breath rushed to fill her lungs.
Floyd and Ralph were talking over each other with interjections from her second rescuer. Their voices seemed very far away.
And then Seb knelt next to her, his hand coming to rest on her back. “You need a doctor?”
She shook her head, finally drawing an unencumbered breath. She was able to sit back on her haunches, and then he helped her stand.
“I’m glad you were here.” Was that her voice? She sounded hoarse and scratchy.
He grimaced. “Shoulda been here a little quicker. You sure you’re all right?”
She nodded. But she was still shaking.
And to her horror, her eyes filled with tears.
Through the blur in her eyes, she saw his expression shift from uncertainty to panic.
“Oscar—”
Oscar. Her second rescuer was the oldest brother. She remembered he had a wife and…five children?
“Hug her, why don’t you?”
A hysterical laugh bubbled out of her throat as Seb closed her in a brotherly hug, patting her back awkwardly.
Shock continued to spiral through her—both that the Chestertons would do something like this, and that Matty’s family had come to her rescue.
She’d never had anyone to lean on before…and this even after she’d pushed Matty away.
In another time, before Matty had been dropped into her life, she would have resented him sending help to her. But she now found that she didn’t know what she’d do without them.
If only things could be worked out with Matty… If only he could come courting. If only Pop could stand to be around people.
But as far as she was concerned, they remained at an impasse.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Matty was heading out of the sheriff’s office for the evening, ready to head home and more than ready to find his bunk.
His boots had just hit the boardwalk when a sharp whistle drew his head up. Oscar and Seb approached on foot, leading their horses. His pulse sped when he saw the one man hog-tied and slung over Oscar’s saddle. Another rode Seb’s horse, hands tied in front of him.
“Catherine?” he called, rushing toward them.
“She’s all right,” Oscar responded quickly, immediately knowing what Matty meant.
“What happened?” He met his brothers at the corner of the boardwalk.
They tied off their mounts to the hitching post.
“They ain’t got no call to truss us up like this,” Floyd Chesterton fussed.
Matty grabbed the man’s shoulder as Oscar pushed him off the saddle, preventing him from falling face-first in the dusty street.
“How about assaulting a lady?” Oscar wasn’t gentle as he pushed Floyd toward the boardwalk steps.
Matty’s head started pounding. “He touched her?”
“Barely,” Seb grunted. He’d helped Ralph off the horse and onto his feet and now followed him up the steps. “I was on ’em as quick as I could get close enough.”
They went inside the one-room sheriff’s office—that doubled as the jail with three cells along one wall.
“It was a mistake,” Ralph said. He wasn’t struggling like his brother. His head and shoulders were hunched. He was docile.
Floyd pulled his arm away from Oscar’s hold, but met gazes with the sheriff, Al Dunlop. Maybe it was Al’s six-shooter at his belt that kept Floyd from struggling more.
“These two can’t arrest us—they ain’t deputies.”
Al shared a look with Matty. Matty had explained the situation to him in great detail after he’d returned to town.
“Seems like I remember deputizin’ these two men just this morning,” Al said.
It was a fib. Oscar and Seb had already been out at Catherine’s place this morning. But he appreciated Al’s support.
Al steepled his hands in front of him. “You boys wanna tell me why you’re terrorizin’ a neighbor? A female neighbor with an aging grandfather?”
Floyd’s chin jutted up almost to the ceiling, while Ralph stared at the floor.
“It didn’t start out that way,” Ralph said, voice low.
Floyd grunted, but Oscar poked him in the side and he hushed right up.
“Explain,” the sheriff ordered.
“Between the ice last winter and the storms last month, we lost everything. I know it wasn’t right, but we thought if we could find out if she had a stockpile of grain, we could convince her to share it with us. Or give it to us.” This from Floyd.
“Convince, or threaten?” Matty demanded.
Ralph glared. “Wouldn’t have been no threatening if she woulda agreed to marry me.”
Matty met his glare evenly, though his heart drummed in his chest. “A lady’s got a r
ight to say ‘no.’”
“She ain’t no lady. Not dressed like that,” Ralph growled, his lips curling in that ugly, familiar sneer.
Anger boiling over, Matty started to move toward the other man, but Oscar halted him with a hand to his arm.
“Let the law handle him, handle them both,” his older brother said.
The sheriff took over questioning the two men, leaving Oscar, Seb and Matty to exit out onto the boardwalk.
Matty rubbed at the ache behind his neck.
“Was Catherine— You said she was all right,” he parroted Oscar’s statement from earlier when they’d first ridden up.
“She’s fine,” Oscar said. “Ralph grabbed her, shook her up a little, but he didn’t actually hurt her.”
“I shoulda been out there,” Matty grumbled beneath his breath. He’d been on duty in town while the sheriff had been tracking a couple of rustlers. Broken up a couple of fights down at the saloon and found Mary Jo Robert’s missing cat.
But he would rather have been with Catherine. She’d needed him.
*
Matty left in the dark of night to ride out to Catherine’s place the next morning. He had to see her. Had to know for himself that she was all right, even though his brothers had assured him—repeatedly—that she was fine.
It was early still when he arrived. The homestead was quiet. Likely Pop was still laid up, barely walking thanks to the foot he’d sprained.
And Pop wasn’t the one Matty wanted to talk to anyway.
He found Catherine in the barn, her face pressed up against the milk cow’s belly, shooting streams of frothy white milk into her pail.
She rose when his shadow crossed into the open doorway and fell across her boots. Nearly kicked over the half-full pail.
“What are you—”
He took her in his arms before she could finish the question. His mouth found hers and she responded to his kiss with the clutch of her hands on his shoulders, the sweetness of her lips moving against his.
He reassured himself that she was safe—she was perfectly safe—until they both panted for breath.
Then he clutched her to his chest, his hands at her shoulders. His breath sawed in and out of his chest.
“You really all right?” he asked finally. The words stirred the fine hairs at her temple and they tickled his lips.