Rhett scrambled to his feet, his hands in the air, his face, white as a ghost. “Okay, okay, just take your hand off that gun. We ain’t got no beef.”
“Mention that boy one more time, and you’ll be laying in the cold hard ground with him. If that ain’t before the coyotes get you first.”
“Okay. Okay. I get it.” Rhett raised his hands.
“And you!” He turned to Bart. “This was all your idea, weren’t it?”
A visible fear came over Bart’s face. “It was Rhett’s idea. He wanted to scare Ezra out. Make em pay for messing up the bank job.”
“And what made you think he was there? I told ya I shot him dead, didn’t I? You boys hard of hearing?”
“Rhett said he saw horse hooves leading right from the blood to the west toward the ranch.”
“Well, he ain’t there. He’s dead.”
Bart nodded defeat. “Okay, Boss. You say he’s dead, then he’s dead.”
Garrett lifted his gun slightly from the holster. “And you leave that ranch alone. Won’t do nothing but get the sheriff on our backs. Y'all ain’t got a lick a sense in you.”
Rhett and Bart backed down, watching Garrett until he removed his hand from his gun. The fear in their eyes was one Ezra knew first hand. The men turned away deciding not to answer at all. They were smart to do so.
Ezra backed away from the window and went back to the tree where he’d left his can of gasoline. The look in Garrett’s eyes haunted him more than the words he’d spoken. Garrett had to have known that he hadn’t killed him. And yet, he was lying to keep him safe.
The words Garrett told him that day came rushing back. “You’re like a son to me.” There was no way he could take revenge against the one person who had pulled him from the gutter and saved his life. There were bad times, Garrett had made him do things that no boy should ever do. Break into houses and cars, stealing from them, and pawning the goods for profit. But he’d always been good to him. Never once laid a hand on him.
His issue was not with Garrett. No, the war that had been waged inside him dealt with his own father. The one who had harmed his psyche more than anything or anyone else. That was the real score that needed to be settled. Garrett was no longer a threat. At least not at the present time.
Ezra grabbed up the gas tank and rushed back to the ranch. Dropping it behind the stables, he headed for the main road into town. He had a score to settle, and he was no longer a little boy who could be beaten into submission.
Chapter 16—Charlotte
Excited for the new visitors to arrive, Charlotte slipped on a pair of blue jeans, her tan riding blouse, her cowboy boots, and smoothed back her wayward hair. Grabbing the basket of fresh linen and the few items she’d made to brighten up the rooms, she headed out to the guest rooms to get them ready. She’d been praying the entire night that everything would go well and had a good feeling about it.
There were plenty of things she could use to keep their interest on their stay. She’d stayed up late thinking it through. Most people who chose cabins or lodgings such as theirs over the standard motel were out-of-towners who wanted to get in touch with the desert.
A short morning hike on foot would be just as easy to show off the beauty of the land. Of course, it was not as appealing as riding horseback, but the horses were still not ready. Besides the physical damage they’d endured, they were still a bit spooked. Not much, though. It wouldn’t be long. Once they healed physically and she put them through a series of tests to be sure they wouldn’t spook and throw a rider, she would continue with the trail rides. She had too much respect for the horses to ever put them through more damage.
Opening the first room, she sniffed the air. A slight odor of smoke was present. Pulling out her air freshener, she doused the room. Once the smell met her satisfaction, she made the bed, admiring the work Cole had done on the bed frames. The room was remarkably western looking, and that was what tourists wanted.
After researching the best way to remove the odor of smoke, she’d found that ground coffee beans and baking soda helped to soak up the smell. An idea had come to her the evening before, and she had put together a basket for each room. Inside, she’d placed coffee grounds to serve as a makeshift dirt. She placed small cacti figurines inside and stood back and to see how it looked. The coffee aroma was already filling the room. Smiling, she glanced around. Everything looked perfect.
Moving to the second room, she continued the process. Once she was finished, she went to the next. By the time she got to the fourth room, the one Ezra was staying in, she stood outside the door, deciding whether or not to knock. They’d all had a late night. Maybe she should let him sleep.
Cole’s words ran through her head. He'd been justified in not wanting Ezra to stay at the ranch. She just couldn't get over the overwhelming feeling that God had placed him in her life for a reason. Of course, there was another reason why Charlotte didn't want him to leave. She loved him.
She glanced at his door once more before turning. She'd let him sleep and go check on the horses. Entering the stable, she went to each of them, giving them all the love she could. One of the horses, Titus, had been beaten rather severely. Touching the scabbing sore on his backside gently, a tear fell from her eyes. Titus winced, and she went to his head.
Soothing him with a gentle voice, she petted his mane. “It’s okay, buddy. You’re safe now.”
He whinnied softly and nuzzled against her.
“Yeah. That’s a good boy.” she kissed his soft brown muzzle and pulled a carrot from her pocket. “Here you go, boy.”
She spent time with Titus, brushing him down, speaking soothing words in his ear, and avoiding the painful wounds that would no doubt turn into scars.
One by one she moved to each of the horses. Giving them all special care and love. Doc Evans had said they would be fine in a week or two as long as they were reassured they were safe. She would take every precaution to make sure they were given all the love they deserved. She’d been raised her whole life around horses. The pain that held her each time she’d had to sell one was unspeakable. But it was necessary for them to survive.
Once she was finished, she headed back to the house. There was only three hours before her visitors were due in and she wanted to make up some fresh lemonade and cookies.
Before she reached the door, a black car pulled up with the word Sheriff written in gold lettering on the side. Had Cole called the police after she’d asked him not to? He’d been furious all day and had gone off numerous times about the unfairness of it. He’d almost been angrier over it than Ezra, and Cole was not an angry person. He was as gentle as the horses he cared for.
Sighing, she walked over to the vehicle as a tall, dark-skinned man dressed in a khaki uniform got out of his vehicle.
“Ma’am.” He nodded. “Looking for Charles Spencer.”
“He’s my . . . well, he was my father. He passed away many years back. I’m Charlotte.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am. Are you running this ranch alone?”
“No, sir. It’s my brother and me. What can I do for you?”
“There was a fire last night on the Monroe property about three miles east of here. House burnt to the ground.”
Charlotte covered her mouth. “Is everyone alright? Did they . . .”
“Apparently there was no one in the house at the time, but ―” he glanced at the store and saw the boarded-up window. Walking toward it, he looked inside. “Looks like you suffered some damage, too.”
“Yes, sir. Two nights ago, our horses were run off, and a fire started in the store.”
“I haven’t seen a report on this incident. Is there a reason you didn't call it in?”
Charlotte refused to meet his eyes. How did you explain to an officer of the law that you feared calling them because it would only make matters worse?
Just then Cole walked out of the house. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Cole, uh this is Officer―” Had t
he guy introduced himself? She didn’t think so.
“Deputy Hale.” The Deputy stretched out his hand. Cole took it as he continued. “Hear anything about the Monroe house burning down last night?”
For only a second, Cole’s eyes glimmered. “No, sir. Was home in bed. But as you see, we got attacked the night before.” He pointed to the boarded-up store.
“That’s what your sister was saying. If we got hoodlums running around, we need to take care of it before someone gets hurt. I’d like a full statement as to what happened to your property.” The deputy’s brow was lit with moisture. “You got insurance on this place?”
“Yes, sir. We haven’t reported it yet.” Her deductible was so high on the place that paying that alone would break them. There was no use even filing a claim.
“Cole, why don’t you take him inside, and get him some water. You know more about it than me.” Her main concern was speaking to Ezra about it. Her heart refused to believe he had anything to do with it, but hadn't he said he would?
“Yeah, sure.” Cole gave her an I-told-you-so look and headed for the house.
The officer followed Cole into the house, and Charlotte left for the lodging rooms. She just hoped Ezra hadn’t done something stupid.
Knocking on the door, she waited. There was no answer. She knocked again. Still no answer. Maybe Ezra was a heavy sleeper. A blush came over her at the thought of finding him laying on top of the covers with nothing but his underwear, but she pushed it away and wiggled the handle. It was no time for modesty with the sheriff's officer at their door.
The handle turned. It was unlocked. Charlotte opened it just enough to peek her head in and called his name.
She looked at the bed and found it completely empty. The covers were ruffled as if he’d been there, but he was not there now. Closing the door back, she went to the stables. She’d just been there, but maybe she had missed him.
God, please don’t let him be the one responsible for the Monroe fire.
Her prayer was futile. Either he was, or he wasn’t. There was no praying that could change that fact.
Ezra was nowhere to be found. She went up to the house and listened to Cole tell the story of what happened two nights before.
“You say you shot a man?” The deputy scribbled in his notebook. “Where do you think you got him.”
“Not sure if I got him or not.” He gave Charlotte a wary look. “Everything was crazy. It all happened so fast.”
Charlotte could see he was worried about shooting a man. He was defending them, but it was still a scary thing. She understood. She'd heard of lawsuits from burglars who got shot entering someone's house. The right to defend oneself was a thin line.
“And that's when they left? Did they take anything? Money? Valuables?”
“No. I don't think so.” Cole looked back at Charlotte. “Was there anything missing?”
“They never came into the house or store. I don't know what their intentions were. Maybe Cole scared them off.”
The officer wanted to see the horses, so she led him to the stable.
She took him to Titus first. “Please stay back, though. He’s a little spooked right now.”
Deputy Hale nodded and took pictures from as far back as he could of each of the wounded animals.
As they left the stable, he said, “Your brother here says he didn’t get a look at the assailants. Did you happen to see anything?”
“I didn’t. All I saw was my store on fire and a dark truck driving off.”
“Did you get a license?”
“No, sir. I was trying to save my store from burning down. We spent hours into the night trying to round up the horses. One of them is still missing. She’s pregnant. She’ll be foaling soon.”
The deputy asked for a description of Clementine and told them he would keep an eye out for her. He asked a couple more questions then got back into his vehicle and drove off leaving dust in his trail.
Charlotte rushed to the henhouse for eggs.
Cole was hot on her tail. “Tell me he didn’t start that fire.”
Charlotte turned half way there. “He didn’t.”
“Where is he? How do you know? He talked about it. I heard him.”
“He’s gone.”
“I knew it.” Cole whipped off his hat and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “He did it. We’re harboring a criminal. What did I tell you?”
“He’s gone, Cole. Let it go.” Charlotte continued to the chicken coop.
Still following her, he called, “He better not come back. Charlotte, we could lose everything we’ve worked for.”
Charlotte whipped around. “You think I don’t know that?”
“Okay.” Cole raised a hand in the air. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’m just worried about all of this.”
Charlotte calmed. “I’m worried, too.”
Cole shifted awkwardly. He was not a big one on brotherly-affection. “I’ll go milk the cow. Our visitors should be here soon.”
Charlotte nodded and continued her trek to the chickens. With the few they had left, they’d had no choice but to stop eating them. The eggs they produced were the only things keeping them from being the evening meal.
WITH COOKIES MADE, Charlotte looked out to see a van pulling up. Two adults and two children hopped out, checking out the ranch. Charlotte said a short prayer that they would stay after hearing they wouldn't be able to ride and went out to meet them.
Placing her best smile on her face, she greeted them. “Hi! Welcome to C&C Trails. I’m Charlotte, and my brother Cole is out in the stables.”
“Hello. It's good to get out of the car.” the man said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re quite a ways from town.”
“It's good to have you, Mr. Bell.” She shook his hand. “Mrs. Bell.”
She always made a point of remembering each adult guest's names to make them feel welcome. “And who are these handsome young men?”
“I'm Charlie,” the older boy said while the younger one hid behind his mother's legs. “He's Carl.”
Once the introductions were made, Charlie asked, “When can we ride the horses?”
Charlotte gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t call and let you guys know, but the trail rides are closed for a week or two.” She looked up at the adults, resolving to be perfectly honest with them. “We had a bit of mayhem here recently. Some of the horses were harmed, and the store caught on fire. Maybe now is not the best time for you all to stay.”
“Really?” Charlie asked. “A real shootout like the one we saw in Tombstone?”
Carl's eyes grew big as he peeked behind his mother.
“Unfortunately, quite like that. Uh, I can show you the rooms if you like. Each of them has a lock, and I don’t think we’ll be seeing any more trouble around anytime soon.” She tried to keep the sad look from her face as she waited for their decision.
“Well, we’re here now. Let’s have a look around, and then we can give you an answer.”
Charlotte nodded and led them toward the lodging rooms.
Passing their milking cow Carl asked. “Could we milk her? I never milked a cow before.”
Charlotte smiled. It didn't take much for him to come around.
Gemma was as gentle as they came and she saw no reason not to let them. “Absolutely. My brother, Cole is the best at teaching, if you promise to listen to him, I'm sure he'll let you. You could even help me gather eggs in the morning.”
“Yes!” Charlie's fist flew the air. “Can we, Dad?”
“Sounds like fun.”
“We also have one horse who was uninjured. Samson. He’s an old, gentle guy who’s great with children. I’d love to lead the kids around on him. We also have a hiking trail that leads right up to the river.”
With that settled, the boys had all but convinced their parents to allow them to stay.
“This is going to be the best fun ever!” Charlie said as they ran to the chicken coop to see the birds.
“I think it’ll be okay,” the husband said, turning to his wife. “What do you think?”
“I think getting them out of here now would be a huge battle. Besides, I like the feel of this place.”
Charlotte thanked them happily and did her best to assure them there would be no problems. She just hoped that were true.
Chapter 17—Ezra
Ezra stood outside of the home he’d lived in until the age of ten. After spending three hours with the truck driver who had picked him up, listening to him drone on about life on the road and his family back home, Ezra had been ready to get it all over with. But now, standing at his birth father’s door, fear washed over him.
“What did I tell ya, boy? I know you were into my beer,” his father slurred, standing over him with an empty bottle in one hand and a belt in the other.
Ezra shrunk in fear. He hadn’t touched his father’s stash. He knew better. “No, sir. I didn’t touch it.”
“You gonna lie to me, Ezz-rah?” His voice slurred with each word. “Am I raising a liar?”
There was no use saying another word. All he could do was endure the pain that was to come. His father raised his belt and lashed him until Ezra cried out in pain. With a yell, he threw the bottle to the floor, staggered off and fell asleep in the chair.
Ezra wasn’t that scared little boy anymore. Knocking hard on the door, he was determined to confront the father who left scars on his back and legs. A forever reminder of his cruelty.
A dark-skinned, heavy-set older woman answered the door. She wore a knee-length, flowered dress like his mother used to wear, and her hair was jet-black with a widow’s peak of gray streaking through. She smiled at him kindly.
“Can I help you, young man?”
“Uh, hi. My name’s Ezra McCain. I used to live . . . my father owned this house all my life. His name was William. William McCain.”
“Oh?” The woman stepped outside and closed the door. “Yes, I do believe the man we bought the house from was named McCain. We still get mail for him a time or two.”
The Cowboy's Forbidden Bride (The Blushing Brides Book 4) Page 9
