A Love Defying The Odds (Historical Western Romance)

by Cassidy Hanton

  “No, I’ve met your uncle, this wasn’t him. He… he came from that direction,” she said, but just then, the cowhands returned.

  “We couldn’t find him. Are you sure that’s what you saw?” one of them said. Gertie intervened.

  “I done saw him! He was rollin’ on the ground holdin’ his face when I looked back, but he got his feet under him and took off when I yelled. I shoulda snuck up on him quiet and kicked him good!”

  Grateful that someone could verify her story, Lucy leaned back against the cabin and closed her eyes.

  “I worry that it could have been a bandit hiding out back towards the canyons about twenty miles from here. He might have come to Uncle John’s place looking for supplies or food,” Matthew said. “I’ll go to town first thing in the morning and inform the sheriff, but all of you, whoever sees Uncle John first when he returns, let him know to be on his guard out here.”

  Lucy chose not to argue. She would find time to speak to Matthew alone and let him know what she’d seen… and that he may be after her.

  * * *

  The rest of the day had been decidedly more solemn than when they first started out. Gertie and Mrs. Miller bravely tried to keep everyone’s spirits up, but too often, a story or a song or a movement in the brush beside the wagon path would remind everyone of the stranger who’d lurked at the cabin.

  Matthew watched Lucy closely where she sat beside him on the wagon seat. He could see that her earlier amusement and wonder at their trip had been replaced by resolute acceptance that she may never feel safe out here. That was a small consideration when he compared it to the thought that she may never marry him, either.

  How do I protect her? My property and all I’ve worked for be damned, all that matters is her!

  It had only been a matter of weeks since he’d first turned up his nose at the idea of placing an ad for a wife. Somehow, in that time, Lucy had become the most important person in the world. It was more than just her giving nature, her easy smile, or her eagerness to be a part of life at the ranch. She was someone he instinctively wanted to protect, to dote on. He wanted to give her the world, even if he didn’t fully know why.

  It makes sense now, Matthew thought as he cast an uneasy glance in Lucy’s direction. My mother’s tears after all this time… this is only a measure of what she must have felt for Pa, and yet I know in my heart I would die for Lucy.

  I would kill for her, too, he thought afterward, setting his jaw firmly in anger.

  As the sun started to set, Matthew picked up the pace. He wanted to get everyone home before dark, most of all Lucy. Then, as he’d promised, he’d speak to Sheriff Cooper first thing about what was happening. Not just the stranger today was worrisome, but rather all of the things that had befallen his ranch in recent weeks. His only relief was that his uncle was safely away from here and wouldn’t be murdered in his bed by outlaws that night.

  Once at home, he was surprised that Lucy didn’t hurry inside the safety of the house with the others. She lingered outside the barn, waiting for him to put up the team. Only after the cowhands had retired to the bunkhouse did she come to the door to wait.

  Matthew turned toward her, dreading every step. He knew she wished to speak with him, and in the pit of his stomach he felt the despair of knowing what she was going to say: that she was leaving.

  Instead, he was surprised when she held out her hand for him to take. He closed his long fingers around hers, feeling how fragile the tiny bones seemed to be. At that touch, all he wanted in the world was to protect her.

  “Matthew,” she said, “I need to tell you something about what happened earlier.”

  Surprised, he said, “Of course. Let’s sit down here.” He led her to the porch and held a chair for her, then said, “Go on.”

  He struggled to be patient as Lucy sought the right words. “I knew who that man was at your uncle’s place.”

  “What? Who is he?” he demanded. “We’ll go after him tonight, the boys and I, just tell me who he is!”

  “Oh no, I’m sorry. I don’t mean that I know his name or whereabouts,” she continued. “I meant only that I’ve seen him before. He was there that day when you found me in town.”

  Matthew frowned. “I don’t understand. I was with you the whole time. How did you see him without my noticing?”

  Lucy explained how she’d encountered the man before Matthew arrived, when the scoundrel Frank had left her to go into a store. She told how the man had come close and seemed to be menacing, only to be stopped when Frank returned.

  “I mean that I think he and Frank knew each other,” Lucy said. “When Frank returned, he spoke sharply to the man, and he left us.”

  “And you’re sure it’s the same man?” Matthew asked, uncertain of how she could recognize him after so brief a meeting.

  “Quite sure. He has terrible scars on his face, I cannot imagine what might have caused them. But they’re very obvious, and quite noticeable. It had to be the same man, I’ve never laid eyes on any two people with the same deep gashes that have been healed over.”

  “Well, that does make sense,” Matthew agreed. “I’d thought to leave you with my mother and some of the men to look after everything tomorrow. But do you think you could be strong enough to come to town and tell the sheriff what you saw?”

  “Of course,” Lucy answered, squaring her shoulders and looking as brave as she could. “If it will put an end to this so that you and I can finally be happy, I’ll do whatever I must.”

  Matthew’s heart skipped a beat. He looked up at Lucy and felt a surge of relief. “You mean, you’re still willing to stay here and… marry me?”

  Lucy seemed taken aback by the question. “Of course I am. You were not the one who followed me behind the cabin. And you’re not the one who’s bringing this fear down on me. Matthew, I let others take away the most important people in my life—those children, and the few friends I had in Shortcrag—because I obeyed their whims instead of staying put and fighting for them. I will not lose anyone else. In these few short days, you’ve become very important to me, more than I can even make sense of. I just feel it, you know? This is where I belong, but more importantly… you’re where I belong.”

  Matthew’s expression softened and for a moment, Lucy looked worried that she’d said too much. But instead of turning shy, she stood up straighter and cast off any awkward feeling.

  “Your mother and everyone here at the ranch have been so kind. They’ve taken me in and made me a part of things here. I will not let some terrible outlaw take away what I’ve only just been given by divine providence!”

  Overcome with relief, Matthew reached for Lucy’s hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed her fingertips tenderly and held her hand close.

  “I wondered all day if I had lost you so soon after only becoming yours! I don’t know how many times I will have to say it before I make good on this promise, but I swear to you, I will find out what’s happening and I will put an end to it. You have my word that I will, or I will die trying.”

  Lucy gasped at the thought. “I’d much prefer you didn’t die, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Then we’ll leave,” Matthew stated. “If I cannot keep you safe here, I will carry you so far away that no one who wishes us harm could find you.”

  “Matthew, you cannot,” she answered softly. “Your life is here. Everything your father built, everything your mother did. You cannot throw away their bone-breaking work for me.”

  “But I can, Lucy,” he replied, her name sounding reverent as he spoke it. “If I don’t make this stop and provide you with a home where you feel safe, then I will walk away from every bit of it. I’ll turn the cattle loose, leave the door unlocked, and let this land grow over again the way it was when my father first came to it.”

  Lucy smiled, but said, “Then we’ll just have to hope it never comes to that. We’ll see the sheriff in the morning as you said, but even if we have to block the doors and board the windows to fi
ght some kind of outlaw, that’s just what we’ll do. We’re not leaving here, he is.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  As promised, Lucy was up with the sun and dressed, ready to go to town. Her restless night had been spent flipping between visions of the villain’s face coming to mind, and thoughts of Matthew’s great relief after he’d learned she wasn’t leaving him. Between the two, she felt as if she’d hardly slept at all.

  Matthew’s face was grim when she entered the kitchen, and she could see that his mother had been crying. He brightened slightly when Lucy walked in, but Genevieve rose from her chair and rushed at her, taking her in her arms and holding her tightly.

  “Please don’t go, Lucy! Please, just stay with me. Let Matthew take care of it!” she cried.

  “I must go with him,” Lucy explained, taking the woman’s hands and pressing them together. “I, alone, know what this man looks like. Matthew cannot possibly describe him, but I’ve seen him twice now. I have to be brave now so we can make this stop.”

  Mrs. Miller nodded in agreement as a fresh wave of tears started. “You must come back to me, safe and sound. Both of you! I cannot bear it if something were to happen to either of you. You’re my family, no matter if it’s official yet or not, and if I lose either of you, well, just leave word for Uncle John to go ahead and dig my grave next to Jacob’s.”

  Overcome with tears, Genevieve kissed them both on the cheek and silently left the room. Matthew, still grim, held out his hand and led Lucy outside.

  “How will we know if we’re safe?” she asked, already regretting her earlier sense of confidence.

  “I will protect you, or I’ll die in the process. No harm will come to you while I’m still breathing,” Matthew assured her. Looking around to be sure no one saw them, he placed an arm around Lucy’s shoulders and held her as he kissed her forehead. “But we will be fine. I’ve prayed over it, and now there’s nothing left to do but see the sheriff and let him bring this person to justice.”

  All along the way to town, Lucy sat straight as a board beside Matthew. Every call of a hawk circling overhead made her flinch, and she jumped every time a critter emerged to run in front of them. She kept close watch on the open land surrounding them, making sure no one surprised them.

  About halfway to town, they were startled by the sound of a gunshot, and Lucy leaned against Matthew instinctively. He stopped the wagon for a moment and his hand went to his belt to feel for the revolver he wore there.

  “That shot could have been anything,” he said uncertainly, looking around anxiously.

  “Or it could have been to scare you off,” Lucy replied, not wanting to argue but hoping he was as concerned as she.

  “That won’t happen,” he said, looking down at her and forcing a smile. “Whoever this is, they’ve already taken everything I’m willing to let them have. I’ve got nothing left to be scared of.”

  He urged the horses on, and soon they were in Tuckerrise. The vaguely familiar streets and pathways still encouraged Lucy, who was more determined than ever to put these dark days behind them.

  “I have one stop to make in the land management office,” Matthew said, bringing the horses to a stop and waving down a young boy to watch over the wagon. He handed the boy some coins then took Lucy by the elbow. “It’s not the most savory place, but it’s also not untoward. I’d feel much better if you came with me, if you’re not too bothered by a bunch of farmers working over their finances.”

  “Of course not, I’d rather come with you,” she answered, looking around fretfully.

  In the low-slung building, several men in various levels of attire—from the lowliest farmer with his patched denim trousers to some dressed nearly as fine as Matthew—stood in conversation, all conducting business as it pertained to their land. Snippets of their talk drifted around, as some discussed corn prices and others discussed the weather forecast.

  “Mr. Miller! What a pleasure to see you today!” a small, bald man with wire-rimmed spectacles said. “What can I do for you?”

  “I just have a simple question, and I don’t need a precise answer,” Matthew explained, stepping towards the man’s high desk and speaking to him through the wooden slats that prevented outsiders from encroaching in the office behind him. “What can you tell me about the early predictions on the cattle market this year?”

  “Why, I thought someone in your position would set his watch by those predictions,” the man said merrily, laughing and nodding his head respectfully to Lucy. “But let me see if I can get you the latest numbers. They came in by telegraph only two days ago.”

  The man disappeared into another part of the office, but quickly returned and scurried back up onto the high stool behind his desk.

  “Yes, here we are! The futures market on steer is set to be well over fifty dollars a head, or broken down into small dollars per pound. There’s some talk of fluctuating, but not too far in either direction right now. Does that help?” the man asked, holding the paper out for Matthew to read.

  “It does, thank you!” he replied, then turned and led Lucy to the door. She looked confused, but didn’t say anything until they were outside.

  “Was that good news after all?” she asked, obviously unsure of what she’d just heard.

  “Yes and no,” Matthew answered. “It’s great news if you’re a cattle rancher like me. But it’s terrible news if you trusted someone to be honest with you and found out they’re a lying snake.”

  Lucy shook her head, but Matthew didn’t venture anything further. He pointed across the wide street to the sheriff’s office then climbed the wooden steps to the dutch door.

  “Sheriff Cooper,” Matthew called out as he held the door for Lucy. “We need a minute of your time.”

  “What divine providence that you’re here,” the sheriff replied, looking at both of them. “I was already thinking of riding out and paying you a visit.”

  “Oh? Did you discover something more about the man who kidnapped Miss Jones?” Matthew asked. Lucy seemed to take note of the strange tone in his voice but said nothing.

  “Um, well… no,” Sheriff Cooper stammered, his bravado gone at the subtle accusation in the rancher’s voice. “That is, I was fixing to ask you some more questions. But what brings you in today?”

  Matthew held the chair for Lucy to sit down then took a seat in the chair beside her. He pinned the sheriff back with an intense gaze, one that he reserved for the most serious of circumstances.

  “Why don’t you start, since you seem to have some questions,” Matthew said. His tone was still ice cold, and the sheriff responded like a chastised child.

  “Oh no. It’s really no matter. I was just going to ask a few more questions of Miss Jones, but I see that she’s—”

  “That she’s my betrothed and I won’t have you asking any questions that might upset her? Or that might seem as though you have an accusation to make?” Matthew asked, and Sheriff Cooper sat up straighter in his chair.

  “It’s nothing like that, Miller. I just have to figure out what’s going on around these parts. All I know is that Miss Jones came to town and a dead man followed close behind.”

  “Perhaps this will help you put your mind at ease,” Matthew answered, then he proceeded to unleash all of the recent concerns from the ranch. He mentioned the damage to his property, the injuries he’d sustained, the kidnapping of his poor bride-to-be, and more. Finally, he described the man who’d made an appearance at his uncle’s cabin.

  “So, you’re telling me that once again, Miss Jones has laid eyes on a possible outlaw… but you didn’t see him yourself?” the sheriff asked, looking to Lucy with an air of suspicion.

  “My cook saw him, Sheriff. You’ve met Gertie, and you know there’s not a dishonest bone in her body. She, too, saw the man scramble and run for the hills when Miss Jones managed to knock him down. If her word isn’t good for anything in these parts, then I don’t know whose is.”

  “Well, a witness does change things so
me,” Sheriff Cooper replied, very nearly sounding relieved that he had something else to go on. Still, he sounded somewhat skeptical when he asked, “Miss Jones, did you get a good look at this man? Can you tell me what he might have looked like?”

  “Yes sir, Sheriff,” Lucy answered politely. “He was somewhat shorter than Mr. Miller, perhaps about your height, I believe. He had very thick black hair that badly was in need of a comb, and black eyes, and—”

  “Pardon me, Sheriff, but don’t you think you ought to write some of this down?” Matthew interrupted, staring down at the lawman with a mix of intimidation and irritation on his face.

  “What? Oh, yes. Of course.” The sheriff retrieved a pencil and a half sheet of paper from beneath a stack of newspapers, and scrawled what Lucy had already told him. “Black hair, black eyes, none too tall. Anything else?”