The Cowboy's Forbidden Bride (The Blushing Brides Book 4)

by Tayla Alexandra

  “Yeah, maybe. We’ll just have to see.”

  “I’ll get that glass removed, and the window boarded up. It won’t look good, but at least it will keep the critters out.”

  Charlotte looked around the store. Trying to keep a good attitude, she said, “Ever worked with wood?”

  “As in?”

  “You know, trinkets and things. Cole is good at carving. I thought maybe you could help him make some more before winter?”

  “Never done that sort of thing, but I’m willing to learn as much as I can to help out.” He shoved a shard of glass into a bag.

  “Maybe some of the easier ones at first. That is unless you want me to show you how to sew.”

  Ezra chuckled. “I think I’ll stick with the wood.”

  “One day I’d like to be able to afford the plush fur to make real stuffed animals. All I can afford now is cloth, but they sell okay.”

  “One day you will.”

  “You think so?”

  He turned to her, and his face softened. “Charlotte, you pray at every meal, you do everything right, and I saw you last night. When I wanted to go burn that house down, you were praying. You don’t believe God will make sure you get all your heart desires?”

  What her heart truly desired was him. “It doesn’t always work that way, Ezra. God gives us what we need, not always what we want.”

  Ezra huffed and continued to shove glass into the bag. She knew he didn’t understand. She didn’t understand it sometimes either. But as hard as it was, she would continue to believe her father’s words. She would never give up hope that God had a bigger plan in all of it. If plush fur was not a part of that plan, that was the least of her worries.

  Reaching down, she picked up one of Cole’s resin scorpions. It had survived the fire with only a bit of ash and water on it. Wiping it on her already dirty jeans, she smiled. Things could be worse. They’d made it out with their lives and all, but poor Clementine hadn’t come back.

  The thought that it could have been the house that burned down instead gave her chills down her spine. Grateful things weren’t as bad as they could be, she was determined to see the good in all of it.

  The sound of tires crunched in the drive and Charlotte looked out to see who it was. “It’s the vet. I’m going to talk to him.”

  Cole came out and met Doc Evans halfway. The two of them discussed the horses as she walked toward them. Looking back, she saw Ezra had already removed the glass from the window and was looking out it at them. His face showed that he was still plenty angry about the situation. She prayed he didn’t try to do anything crazy. She was angry herself, but anger wouldn’t change a thing. It would only spark a war worse than the Hatfield’s and the McCoy’s. If that happened, someone would die. She rubbed her arms as she continued to meet her brother and the doctor.

  She still worried about Clementine and her unborn foal. There were dangers out in the desert that being so heavy, she might not be able to outrun. But they’d searched high and low, and hadn’t found her.

  She followed as Cole and Doc Evans headed back into the barn to examine the eight remaining horses. Samson was the only one who had gone unharmed, but that was who they were checking out first. Curious, she stepped forward and listened.

  “I think he got one of them.” Cole lifted up Samson’s back hoof and pointed to what could have easily been blood. “What do you think, Doc?”

  “Looks like it to me. And from the amount, I’d say he got ‘em good.”

  “Probably saved him from getting hurt like the others.”

  Charlotte went to Samson, and he nuzzled her face. “Good job, boy.” She patted his head, pulled a carrot from her pocket, and gave it to him.

  “You think we should call the police?” she asked as they examined the other horses.

  “You’re certainly within your right to do so, but I worry it may only cause more trouble,” Doc Evans answered. “People in these parts live here for the peace and quiet. But if this is who you think it is, you might just be in for more than you bargained for. Is that boy still here?”

  “Ezra?” He was hardly a boy.

  “That’s the one.” Opening his bag, he pulled out a salve and coated the wound he’d just cleaned on one of the other horses.

  “He is. He’s been so helpful to us.”

  Chapter 13—Ezra

  Finished cleaning the debris from the store, Ezra grabbed two full bags of trash and headed over to the bin behind the stable to dispose of them and check on Charlotte before grabbing the mop and bucket to scrub the floors. The woman amazed him at just how strong she was through all of it.

  He stopped just outside the stable door when he heard the doctor speaking.

  “Helpful or not, believe me when I say that him being here is not doing you any grand favors. Whatever he did to rile up Mr. Monroe, I think you’re getting the backlash from it.”

  “Ezra has been a great help since he’s been . . .”

  Ezra dumped the bags into the bin and went back to the house. Grabbing the mop and bucket, he stormed back to the store.

  The doctor spoke truth that burned him to his very core. If Ezra had never stayed with them, Garrett and his cronies would not be trying to take revenge on them.

  He loaded the mop with soapy water and cleaned the floors, all the while he made plans to take revenge on Garrett and his crew. Charlotte may have her faith. He had nothing but himself. And he was determined to get justice for her whether she liked it or not.

  “Wow!” Charlotte said, standing in the doorway. “It looks so much better in here. Once we replace the shelves and throw a bit of paint on the walls, no one will ever know.”

  “And replace the window,” Ezra added. He needed to keep his distance from her, or she would know what he was planning, but staying away from Charlotte was like trying to not eat a fresh bowl of ice cream placed in front of him.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “You seem distant.”

  “Just got a lot on my mind. How are the horses?”

  “No real damage was done. A good number of wounds, but those will heal. Doc didn’t see anything else out of order.”

  Except for me.

  Ezra couldn’t blame the man. He was only looking out for Charlotte and Cole. Still, it burned him that it was obvious that he was the problem. As much as he wanted to stay, it was time to go.

  “Ezra, you can’t blame yourself for this. You didn’t cause this to happen.”

  “No?” he shot back a little too snippy. “And how do you figure that? They came here looking for me.”

  “Yeah, I get that.” She drew closer. “But you did the right thing. Garrett wanted you to do something that was not right. You had every reason to leave.”

  “I’m so glad you see it that way. But Charlotte, you don’t know them like I do. They are not reasonable people. None of this will stop until I leave.” Or am buried six feet under. “People like Garrett don’t just walk away. And besides, that wasn’t the first time Garrett asked me to do something I didn’t want to do. Now all of a sudden I have a conscience about it?”

  Charlotte touched his arm. “Just because you did those things before, doesn’t mean you have to keep doing them. Besides, you said it yourself. Garrett has gone off the deep end. Stealing from others is wrong, but someone will get hurt if he tries to rob a bank. You did the right thing.”

  He wanted to ask her why she thought she knew him so well. Why she felt that he was an upright man for walking away. He wasn’t. He’d have continued to rob and pillage with them for as long as he had to. It was the only way he knew. Like it or not, Ezra was not a good guy.

  “I better get this mop put away.” He turned away from her. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused.”

  When he turned back around, Charlotte was gone. He looked out the window to see her storming up to the house. Good. If she hated him, it would make what he had to do much easier. He grabbed the water bucket, wishing he was a different man. Trudging back to
the stable he ran into Doc Evans who was just coming out.

  “Ezra.” Doc nodded.

  “Doc.” Ezra nodded back.

  There was nothing to say. Everyone, including himself, knew he should not be there. All except for Charlotte, that was. Soon she would see the light.

  Chapter 14—Charlotte

  Charlotte stomped back up to the house. She was so angry with the man she could scream. Why did he insist he was such a bad guy when she knew he wasn’t? She did know him, didn’t she? They’d spent so much time together that she felt like she did. Maybe she was wrong, and he was right. He was a villain, an outlaw, and could never change.

  That wasn’t what she saw in him, though. She saw a caring man who was damaged. She wanted to heal him, but there was only One who could do that and Ezra had to be willing. That was where Ezra’s issue lied. No one could help him until he made a step in the right direction.

  Busying herself with preparing the evening meal, Charlotte prayed for Ezra. God was his only hope. She pulled an onion from the refrigerator and knife from the drawer. She set out the cutting board and diced the onions.

  “He has to leave.” Cole’s voice startled her, and she almost cut her finger.

  She looked up to see him standing in the doorway. “Who?” It was a stupid question, and she knew it.

  “Ezra. We can have no more problems here. He has to go. You need to tell him.”

  Charlotte continued to cut her onion, being careful not to slice her finger off. “It’s not Ezra’s fault, and you know it.”

  “I don’t care whose fault it is. You can’t allow him to stay here. It’s dangerous. We have guests coming soon. What would they say about people coming in the middle of the night, scaring the daylights out of them? And besides, why haven’t we called the police like normal people?”

  He was right. They should have called the Sheriff. They should have reported the incident and allowed them to take care of it. She was not equipped to handle the situation. She wanted to protect Ezra, but at what cost?

  “Are you listening to me?” Cole walked closer.

  Charlotte looked up, tears stinging her eyes. “I don’t want him to leave.”

  “Are you crying?” He touched her arm. “I know this is hard, but we just can’t afford this kind of drama.”

  “It’s the onions.” Charlotte wiped her eyes on her shirt. There was no way Cole would believe that her tears were due solely to cutting onions. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.” Cole sat on the barstool at the counter.

  “Do you think people can change?”

  “Aw, come on. Let’s not go there. This is not about how good or bad a guy you think he is. It’s about making sure we are safe. All of us, the horses, our riders, our lodging guests. Charlotte, I’m not saying he’s a bad guy. I’m saying he brings trouble. We can’t afford that right now. You said it yourself, we are barely getting by. How will we make it if Monroe’s men are scaring off all of our customers?”

  “Yeah.” She swiped at her eyes again. The onions were getting to her. “It’s just that I feel like you found him for a reason. Like there’s a purpose in him being here.”

  “I found him because he was lying half-dead in the dirt. There’s no other reason, Charlotte.”

  She didn’t agree, and as long as she was the older sister, she wouldn’t allow Cole to dictate terms. Her father had trained her in every aspect of the ranch, and ultimately, she was in charge. “I’ll give it some thought.”

  Cole raised his hands in defeat.

  “What?” She set down her knife. “If you were in his situation, with everyone telling him what a rotten person he is for being raised by a man who made him do ... unlawful things, wouldn’t you want one person in your corner? Just one, Cole. One person who believed in you. Trusted you. Let you know that you can turn your life around and make something of it?”

  Cole stared at her, surprise lighting his face.

  “Well. Wouldn’t you? Everyone needs someone to believe in them.”

  “Fine. But when everything falls apart, don’t forget I told you so.”

  “I won’t. And if I do, I’m sure you will remind me.”

  Cole turned away. “Right. If I’m alive to.”

  Chapter 15—Ezra

  Ezra laid in his bed, waiting out the quiet storm in his brain. No matter how he ran through the series of events that started when he walked out of Garrett’s house, he just couldn’t seem to do anything but blame himself.

  Rhett and Bart were trying to do one single thing. Draw him out. He understood that fully, but guilt overcame him like a rushing river. If only he’d have surrendered himself to them before the damage was done, none of it would have happened. That thought set in his chest like a weight.

  He was to blame for the injury of their horses and destruction of their store. What they would have done to him, if he’d just come out and given himself up, he was sure he didn’t want to know, but it would’ve been better to let them.

  He’d tried to talk himself out of it several times over the day, but each time, he thought of how much worse the situation could have been, the anger sunk deeper and deeper into his bones. Garrett needed to be stopped. The next time, something might happen to Charlotte. That was something he couldn’t reckon in his mind. The only way to stop a man like that was death. With Garrett being in jail, there was no chance of that. Still, it wouldn’t keep Ezra from taking his revenge.

  He allowed that anger to stew deep inside, consuming him with what he needed to do. He closed his eyes.

  “You’re weak, boy,” his father’s voice entered his mind. “I’ll teach you to let that punk push you around.” The belt came out, and Ezra was beaten until he was nothing but a crying, bloody mess lying on the kitchen floor.

  His father was wrong. He was not weak. He’d never killed a man before in his life, but he’d learned to defend himself. Garrett wouldn’t be there, but his men would. Without them, he was nothing but a bitter old man.

  Sliding from his bed, his shoulder reminded him that he was still not fully healed. And also, that Garrett had been the one to put a bullet through it. He hadn’t killed him as he thought he would, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.

  Ezra dressed, slipped on his work boots, tied them tight, and unlocked the door. The moment he stepped outside, he was assaulted by darkness. The temperatures were still in the high nineties even in the middle of the night. That was normal. Especially right before the monsoons hit. Looking up to the sky, there was not a cloud around. Good. He wanted nothing to hinder the fire before Garrett’s men burned for their sins.

  He knew his anger was not good. It hadn’t suited his father well, and wouldn’t do him any favors either. But as he thought of all the things Garrett had made him do, he reasoned with himself that he was nothing like him. An eye for an eye. Wasn’t that what the Bible said?

  Setting his mind to do what he had to do before he backed out, he went to the stable. It was much bigger than what was needed for the handful of horses they currently had. As a boy, peeking through the same structure, he’d seen more horses than he could ever count. He’d been amazed at how many there were and would sit outside the back window and count them until Charlotte arrived. Every morning, without change, the entire family would come and care for their horses. He’d been so envious of the love and camaraderie between them, but most of all, he just wanted to see that messy, strawberry-blonde who had captured his heart.

  Shaking his head of the memory, he walked to the furthest part of the structure where horses were no longer kept. He removed one of the short hoses that connected the troughs to the piping used to water the horses. Checking the length, he decided it was perfect for what he needed to do.

  Being careful not to set off the floodlights at the front of the house, he made his way to the truck. Grabbing the red, plastic fuel container from the bed, he siphoned the gas from the tank and took off toward Garrett’s house.

  The journey through t
he dark was longer than it had been as a boy when he’d snuck out just before dawn right under Garrett’s nose. The trail, he knew by heart.

  The house was dark inside, all but one light in the kitchen where the figures of three men sat. Ezra set the container down and drew closer. Shock settled in his brain as he registered the figure of an old man tipping back in his chair, his feet propped up on the rickety old table, his hands resting casually behind his head.

  The anger that had burned down on his way there was refueled. He sauntered to the window to get a closer look. The night was dark. No one would see him.

  Across from Garrett sat Rhett. His face was bruised and red. The clear shape of a horseshoe was embedded on the side of his face, and his leg was bandaged. Most likely, that was where Cole had shot him.

  “You think I don’t deserve revenge for what that horse did to me? And that fool boy shot me in the leg,” he said. “I gots no problem with going back there and killing every one of them.”

  “You ain’t going nowhere. I already told you to stay away from that ranch, but you had to run about like a skunk spreading stink all over the doggone place.”

  “Well you was laid up in jail, and we got antsy. If it weren't for Ezra, we'd a been done and finished that bank job.”

  “Ezra is dead. I told you, I shot him in the head.” Garrett’s eyes showed distinct remorse.

  “Where’s the body, then? I don’t believe you’d kill him, Garrett. I think you’re getting weak in your old age.”

  Garrett stood so abruptly that his chair fell over backward. He grabbed Rhett by the neck, lifted him from his chair, and spit in his face. “You ever talk to me that way again, and I’ll kill you, too.” Letting go of him, he shoved him back in his chair so hard that it tipped over backward. Rhett landed on the floor covering his face.

  “Ain’t a one of you worth the time I spent to train you.” Garrett kicked at Rhett’s feet. “Ezra was the only one of you worth his salt, and he’s dead. If you wanna join him, you just say the word.” Garrett held his hand on the butt of his gun still holstered to his waist. His fingers, turning white.