“Come on out, Ezzie! Take it like a man!”
Wanting to go out there and give himself up before any more damage could be done, Ezra took a step forward. What would happen if he did? Would they kill him right there in cold blood?
There was no way he could stand up to them without being killed. They had guns, and he had nothing. Standing up to them would be a death sentence for him and anyone else who got involved. He hesitated. Charlotte was surely awake and watching from the window somewhere, scared to death. No one would be able to sleep through that ruckus. The thought of her watching him be tortured and killed, which would inevitably happen if he made his presence known, stopped him. He couldn’t put her through that.
They couldn’t know for sure he was there. They could only be assuming he was. He’d been sure to keep a low profile and hadn’t gone anywhere near the Monroe property. The only real reasoning they could’ve made was if they’d seen Cole pulling him from the desert floor. It was possible, but why wait so long to start trouble?
Rhett and Bart were reckless, and without Garrett to keep them reigned in, they were like hyenas on the hunt. Searching for easy prey.
As much as he wanted to rush out there and stop them, he stayed in place. It took everything he had to keep his feet grounded behind that wall and not go out and get himself killed. Even worse, Charlotte and Cole could be killed for witnessing it. If Garrett had told him once, he’d told them all a thousand times. Leave no witnesses. Until that moment, he’d taken that statement to mean be more stealthily, don’t let anyone see you. But those guys, they had no sensitivity to life. They were brutal and angry. Not a good combination.
“Come on out, Ezra!” Bart called. “And we won’t hurt the lady!”
Ezra took a step forward. Not that he believed them. It was just the opposite. Charlotte was in the house, and he was right there, only a couple of feet away. If she didn’t run out screaming, they might just take him and leave.
The floodlight on the front of the house came on. Ezra jerked his head to the porch. Cole stood there with a shotgun in his hand. Ezra’s head whirled at the thought of Cole getting shot. Please, just go back inside.
Ezra watched as if everything was happening in slow motion. Before he could take action, Cole raised his weapon and aimed. A shot rang out, and Cole was pushed back by the force of the rifle. At that same moment, Rhett lit the cloth on a bottle and threw it toward the store. Glass shattered as Rhett fell to the ground.
The flaming bottle crashed inside igniting everything in sight. Flames immediately licked the inside of the building. Bart ran to Rhett, and half carried, half-dragged him to the vehicle that stood off in the darkness. He dropped him in the back, and they squealed away.
Cole came running from the house. Charlotte was right behind him.
Ezra ran for the hose attached to the spigot just outside the store and flipped it on. Spraying it through the window, he worried he wouldn’t be able to put it out before the entire place was burned down.
Charlotte fumbled with the key to the front door. When she finally got it open, she yelled, “Inside, bring the hose in here.”
His heart thumping in his chest, Ezra pulled the hose, running to the front door but it stopped short almost pulling him back to the ground. “It won’t reach!”
He ran back to the window. With his bare foot, he busted out the rest of the glass and climbed through. Pain shot through his injured shoulder, but he didn’t care. The store was their livelihood. He had to put the fire out before it did too much damage to the store and spread to the lodging rooms.
Ezra sprayed the water on the wooden shelves that had caught fire, soaking everything until there was not a smoldering cinder left in the building.
Charlotte stood at the door, staring into the darkness. An entire assessment of damage could not be made until morning, but it didn’t look good. Walking through the soaked ash and debris, Ezra took her in his arms. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”
“Charlotte!” Cole called from outside. “They’ve run off all the horses! All except for Samson!”
“God, please, no!” Charlotte cried as she pulled away from him and ran to the barn. “I heard them . . . I thought . . .”
Ezra followed after her. The foot he’d used to break the glass was wet with blood. He hadn’t noticed it earlier, but there was no time to worry about a few cuts when so much else was going on.
“They’re gone. The only one left is Samson.” Cole jumped on him bareback and rode out of the stable.
“Cole, wait!” Charlotte cried, but he was already gone. She turned to Ezra. “What are we going to do? Why would someone do this?”
“Give me the keys to your truck.” Ezra burned with anger. He was ready to take care of it once and for all.
“Why? What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to find out who did this and make them pay.” He knew who did it. He had no idea what he would do, but he had to do something.
“Ezra, no.”
“Fine. I’ll walk.” Ezra turned and headed out the door.
“Ezra, please.”
He turned back around. “It was Garrett’s men, Charlotte. They did this. And it’s my fault. They were trying to draw me out, and if I’d have shown my face, they wouldn’t have done this to you.”
Charlotte stared at him for a long time, her sweet face shadowed in the small hanging light from above.
“They know I’m here. Charlotte, this is all my fault.”
“What? How could they know?”
“I told you it was dangerous for me to stay!” His voice was harsh, but the circumstance was serious. “I’m going to take care of this once and for all.”
Fear shrouded her face. “Please don’t.” She touched his shoulder. “Ezra, nothing you can do will undo the damage that is done. And if they see you, they’ll . . . Ezra, please.”
She was right. They would kill him, but Ezra wasn’t one to take the coward’s way out of any situation. He’d grown up hard. He’d learned to take a punch and deliver one back even harder. But then again, he’d never been in love before. Ezra turned away from her.
She touched his arm again. “Please. We need you now more than ever.”
“They’re not going to stop until I’m dead.” He turned and headed for the door.
“So, what are you going to do?” she called out to him. “Just walk in there and think you can fight them all? Ezra, you will lose. I can’t―” Ezra turned to see tears streaming down her cheeks. “I don’t want to lose you.”
He walked the distance back in two strides. He pulled Charlotte into his arms, allowing her warmth to surround him. He was hurting her, and it was destroying him.
I love you so much, Charlotte.
His heart wanted so much to be the man she needed him to be in that moment. He just didn’t know how.
“Okay,” he whispered. “I won’t go. But I still need your keys.”
“Why?” She looked up at him, her face soaked with tears.
He wiped them away, caressing her cheek. “I want to help Cole look for the horses.”
“Fine,” she said. “Give me a second. I’m going with you. And you should put some shoes on.” As she got a clear look at his foot in the light of the stable, she gasped. “Ezra, your foot is cut.”
Ezra looked down at his bare feet. The right one was covered in dried blood. “It’s okay. Just a couple of cuts.”
“No. It’s not okay. I’ll clean and bandage it for you.” She strolled to a workbench and pulled out a first aid kit.
“Charlotte, we have to find the horses.”
“We will. Let’s get your foot bandaged first.”
Ezra sighed. There was no use arguing.
“Have a seat over there. It will only take a minute.” She nodded to a stool in the corner.
Ezra limped over, his foot burning. He hadn’t felt an ounce of pain while it was going on, but now that his adrenaline was lowering, it was tender.
; He sat down, and Charlotte sat on the ground in front of him, lifting his foot into her lap. She rubbed her hand lightly over the cuts. “I don’t feel any glass inside.” With alcohol swabs, she cleaned away the dirt and blood. The feel of her hands on his foot moving so tenderly made him laugh.
“Is something funny?” She looked up at him, her lips pulled up in a grin.
“That tickles. I have very sensitive feet.”
“You can take it, tough guy.” She continued washing, seemingly paying special attention to the middle of his arch. “The horses know where they live. They’ll make their way home if we can’t find them. I just worry―”
He jerked his foot back with the tickling sensation on his arch. “Stop that! It’s not even cut there.”
“Oh, sorry. I was thinking about the horses.” Her eyes turned serious. “I just hope they’re not badly injured.” Bandaging up his wound, she dropped his foot gently and stood. “Where are your shoes and socks? I’ll get them for you.”
“I’ll go. I can walk on my heel. You get dressed.”
She looked as though she was going to argue but then nodded. “I’ll meet you at the house.”
He headed back into his room and slipped on his shoes and socks. His brain warred with his heart over what to do next. His instinct was to go to Garrett’s house and set the entire place on fire and watch as it burned to the ground. But for the first time in his life, his heart spoke louder, overpowering his brain.
Ezra went to the house and quietly opened the door to wait inside as Charlotte got ready. As he entered, he found her kneeling on the living room floor, praying. If only he could have what she had. Her faith was so strong that in spite of all the damage that had been done, she was calling on God to help her.
He stared at the woman on the floor humbling herself before God and thought about his mother. She’d been a woman just like Charlotte. Her faith hadn’t failed her right up until the end.
He’d sat next to her in the hospital, praying God would heal her. He was only six. He hadn’t known much about God at the time, but he’d begged the entity to bring his mother back from the illness that had ravaged her body. But no one was listening. Not God. Not the doctors. Not even his father. The day his mother died was the day he’d lost his own will to live. He’d lost trust in humanity. And at such a young age, he’d had to grow up much quicker than he should have. While other kids were playing ball, he was playing hide and seek from his father.
Charlotte rose. In the light of the side-table lamp, Ezra saw the tears that streamed down her face. She was such a compassionate and hardworking woman. She didn’t deserve any of this.
If You won’t help me, help her.
“Come on. Let’s go.” Charlotte stood and grabbed onto his hand. Together they walked to the old gray truck.
He couldn’t quite understand the woman who didn’t seem to have an ounce of anger for the men who tried to burn down her store and ran off her horses. His instinct told him to get revenge. To go after those men and pay them back for what they had done. And there she was, praying instead. He wanted what she had. Peace. He just didn’t know how to get it.
Chapter 12—Charlotte
IT HAD BEEN A LONG night, and Charlotte was exhausted and emotional. When those men had been out there, she’d watched from the living room window in terror as the men called for Ezra to come out. She’d prayed he wouldn’t. She’d begged Cole not to leave the house, but she was unable to hold him back. Never in her life had she been so scared. Ezra had warned her, but she didn’t want to believe him. The anger in his face when he wanted to go after the men, was something she never wanted to see again. She was angry, too. But what good would it do to go after them?
They had managed to find four of the horses. Three others had come back on their own, but Clementine, her pregnant mare, was still missing. She was sick with worry over it. Clementine was due any day, and she was out there somewhere.
“I’m going to go help Cole in the barn.” Her words came out unsteadily, and she turned before he could see the emotions welling in her eyes. “Several of the horses have open wounds on them and will need to be. . .” She broke down in tears at the thought of how those men had brutally beaten the horses for no reason. “How could anyone be so cruel?” She sucked in a breath, taking in their pain.
Arms wrapped around her from behind and she turned and fell into them. The feeling of being held was so overpowering at that moment. She’d spent so much time keeping her distance from him after the talk with Cole, but her heart yearned to be in his embrace. His arms radiated with warmth, sending spikes of electricity into her body.
“I’m so sorry,” he spoke into her hair.
She pulled back to look at him, not caring anymore that he saw her pain. “And the lodgers are going to be here tomorrow. I haven’t even checked out the store, yet.”
“It’ll be okay.” He pulled the wayward strands of hair away from her wet face. “You go tend to the horses. I’ll clean up the store.”
“Not only are the horses out of commission for a while, but how can anyone live in those rooms? We’re going to lose all the money we put into getting them ready. It wasn’t extra. We had nothing extra to spend.”
“Let’s go take a look. My room wasn’t affected at all by the damage.”
“But the horses.” She pointed to the stables. “They need care.”
“Doc Evans will be here soon. He’ll help Cole tend to them.”
“Oh, I guess.”
Doc Evans was a good vet and would have the horses taken care of in no time, but he didn’t live on peanuts. He had to be paid, and they didn’t have any more money to shell out. But she would have to do it. She wouldn’t dare neglect her horses even if it meant she didn’t eat, herself.
They walked toward the store. The shattered window with the garden hose still sitting inside was proof that it had not all just been a nightmare. Black soot covered the outside of the window. And the view inside the store looked bleak.
“Look. The walls are fine.” Ezra patted the sooty wall. “Nothing more than smoke and a little bit of water damage.”
“All the souvenirs are ruined. Nothing is salvageable.”
“But the structure is sound. A little paint and clean up, and we’ll have this place back in order.”
Charlotte tried to smile, but she just wasn’t feeling it. “Yeah. I guess so.”
Even as he tried to convince her it would be okay, she was overwhelmed with what it would take to repair everything. Paint and windows cost more money that they didn’t have. They’d get a good chunk from the room rentals, but that was supposed to get her ahead, not push her back.
“Come on. Let’s go inside and see what we got.”
Ezra headed for the front door, and Charlotte lagged behind, praying for a miracle to come. Anything short of that and they would be eating cactus candy and jackrabbit for meals.
She entered the store and looked around. It could have been much worse. On the ground just inside the window lay the bottle they’d thrown through it.
“Is that what started the fire?” she asked.
“Yep,” Ezra said. “It’s called a Molotov Cocktail. They fill it with a flammable liquid, throw a cloth of sorts in the top and light it. Once it hits its target, it ignites whatever is around it.”
Charlotte shifted. “How do you know so much about it?”
Ezra stared at her for a long moment as if trying to decide what to tell her. But then his eyes turned. “I’ve read about it.”
She had a good idea that Ezra had known much more about how to make such a disastrous concoction than he was letting on. That scared her. What kind of things had he gotten into while being raised by Mr. Monroe?
Grabbing a trash bag from under the counter, Charlotte began shoving the charred remains of her livelihood inside. The truth was, the water and smoke had done more damage than the actual fire. But it was damaged all the same. All of it would need to be thrown out.
Ezra to
ok the broom from behind the counter and swept the water and debris toward the front door. After his confession of how to make the perfect firebomb, he was quiet. She wanted to speak to him, but the words wouldn’t come. Whatever he’d done with that man, it wasn’t his fault. He’d been only a boy. That man had corrupted his youth.
There was no use dwelling on what Ezra may or may not have done while living with the old man. The possibilities were unthinkable. She only hoped Ezra hadn’t strayed too far to come back from. Anything was possible with God. He could help him. But Ezra didn’t seem like the kind of man who relied on God to restore his soul.
Turning her thoughts back to her current situation, she tried to be optimistic. There was nothing that couldn’t be replaced before winter. She’d work extra hard through the summer months to make new items to replace the ruined ones. She just couldn’t figure out why God was putting her through all of this.
A memory strolled through her mind as she stuffed the bag full of ruined souvenirs.
She’d been a young girl, and they’d driven out to the feed store to buy hay for the horses. On the side of the road was an accident and a young boy was being pulled from the wreckage.
“Why did God let him get hurt?” she asked. “What could he have done to anyone?”
“Things happen that we don’t understand,” her father said. “But sometimes, God uses the bad to bring out the good. That man,” he’d pointed to a man on the side of the road taking a breathalyzer test, “God might be trying to teach a valuable lesson. You never know what can come from the bad around us. Never give up hope that God is good.”
“Something good will come out of this,” she said without even thinking.
Ezra grunted and continued to sweep debris into a pile. “What time are the visitors supposed to be here?”
“In a couple of hours. But even if the rooms don’t smell of smoke, they won’t be able to ride. I’ll most likely have to refund their deposit and send them on their way.” As much as she tried to see the good in all of it, her hope was waning.
“Maybe not. If we get the firepit going, we could at least entertain them.”
The Cowboy's Forbidden Bride (The Blushing Brides Book 4) Page 7
