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

by Tayla Alexandra

  He sold his house? “About how long ago did you purchase the place? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “About four years back. Are you looking for him?”

  “Yes. My father and I—” Ashamed to tell her his father was an abusive drunk, he decided to go vague. “We had a rough relationship.”

  “That’s too bad.” She gave him a sad smile. “To the best of my knowledge, he could no longer take care of the place. I hear he was placed in one of those care homes. Alzheimer's, I think.”

  “Alzheimer’s?” His father was a drunk, but the thought never occurred to Ezra that he would ever lose his faculties. “Do you know where?”

  “No. I wasn’t privy to that sort of information. Would you like to come in and take a gander on the internet? Don’t know much about that old laptop myself.”

  “No.” Ezra was still internalizing the information and had no wish to see the home that had caused him so much anguish. “No, thank you. Uh, thank you for your time.”

  “Sure. No problem. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  Ezra thanked her again and walked back down the sidewalk. In a complete daze he left the housing development he’d grown up in and took the main road into town. Not even bothering to hitchhike, he walked slowly and methodically.

  Once in town, he passed a library. He stopped for a moment and glanced inside. He’d never held a library card, but he had his identification. Regardless of his father’s condition, he still wanted to see him.

  Heading inside, he filled out the form for a library card, showed his driver’s license and set to work on one of the available computers.

  First, he looked up Alzheimer's. He read through the long list of symptoms ranging from confusion to a total lack of body function. Where was his father in that stage? Would he be able to talk? Understand? Would he even remember his son or that he had a son?

  Pushing the questions away, he searched for facilities that would care for Alzheimer patients in the area. Three came up in his search. He scribbled the addresses of each of them down with a half-sized pencil and a small square of paper.

  He went to the desk and asked to use their phone. The lady looked at him as if he was some kind of alien. Everyone in the entire United States had a cell phone, but not Ezra. He’d never had a need for one up until that moment.

  Shaking her head, she handed him the receiver. He dialed the first number on the list.

  Chapter 18—Charlotte

  “Well, that was fun,” Charlotte said waving to the vehicle of lodgers as they left the ranch. “I’m exhausted.”

  For three days, they’d entertained their visitors. She and Cole had taken them on hikes, showed them how to milk cows, gather eggs and pointed out nearly every cactus and tree in the desert. She’d given the boys rides on Samson, and they’d laughed and run around until they were tired.

  They’d all laughed heartily when the older boy, Charlie, mentioned he was disappointed he didn’t get to see a real live shootout. She was glad there had been no more trouble. Still, she worried about Ezra. She’d not seen him in three days, and although she tried not to, her mind always went back to the worst. Something terrible had happened to him.

  “Samantha will be here tonight. I want to run into town, you want to go with me?” Cole asked.

  Still undecided about letting Cole have his girlfriend stay on the ranch, she’d given in purely because she didn’t have a valid reason to argue. He was a grown man and had agreed Samantha would stay in one of the lodging rooms. What more could she say? If she couldn’t be happy, at least he could.

  “Sure. Let’s go. I want to pick up some paint for the store. The sooner we get that painted, the sooner we can start putting stuff back inside.” They’d wiped down the walls and left all the windows and the door open to allow it to air out and most of the smoke was gone. Charlotte had placed baking soda pouches all over the room as well. Painting was a necessity they couldn’t afford to skimp on. It frustrated her that the money that should go back into their savings would be spent on it, but there was nothing she could do about it.

  Cole pulled the keys from his pocket. “Let’s go then.”

  She almost came back with a comment about how he hadn’t even asked her before he decided he was going. She often forgot that he was an adult and was just as part owner of the ranch as she was. Biting her lip, she staved off the comment and followed him to the truck.

  Cole got in and started up the truck as Charlotte climbed up into the passenger seat. It roared to life. She buckled her seatbelt and Cole put the truck in drive. Before they made it out of the driveway, the car coughed and stalled.

  “What the―” Cole looked down at the dash. “It’s clean empty.”

  “What do you mean? We had plenty of gas in the tank.”

  Cole got out and glanced into the truck bed. “Fuel can’s gone.” He stomped back to the driver’s seat and flopped in. “Still think he didn’t burn down that house?”

  Charlotte looked away. Her eyes roved over the surrounding desert. “I don’t know.”

  “Get on this side. You drive, I’ll push.” He got out, and Charlotte slid into the driver’s seat as Cole pushed the truck backward to the house.

  Charlotte put the brake on and climbed down. “Cole, maybe it’s not what we think.” She was unsure of her own words.

  “Shoulda let that guy die in the desert.” He stomped off and into the house.

  Charlotte stared off at her brother. There was no denying it now. The proof was staring her right in the face. Ezra had taken his revenge. He wasn’t the man she thought he was.

  “SHE’S HERE.” COLE TOOK the porch stairs with one jump, startling Charlotte.

  “Guess you’re in a better mood,” she said, bringing a basket of eggs into the house.

  Cole turned to her as Samantha parked her car. “Not a word of this to her. I don’t want to scare her.”

  “She’s going to know, Cole.”

  “I mean about your boyfriend burning down the Monroe house.” He turned and walked away.

  “You don’t know that for sure, Cole,” she called, still hoping against hope that she was wrong and it was all a misunderstanding. It was easier than accepting reality.

  As Samantha opened her door, Cole brought her into a hug.

  Swelling emotions ran through her at the thought of being in Ezra’s arms only days before. Where was he?

  “Samantha says she’ll take us back into town,” Cole said as they headed toward her, holding hands. “I told her we’d treat her to dinner.”

  Charlotte staved off an eye-roll as she walked toward them. They didn’t have the money to be wasting on extravagant dinners. They barely had the extra to buy the paint and a few other supplies they would need. But if it made Cole happy, she’d find a way to save somewhere else.

  After a half hour of chatting about Samantha’s drive in from Phoenix, they headed back into town. Cole and Samantha held hands and talked in low tones while Charlotte sat in the backseat, desperately worried about Ezra.

  Once in town, Cole dropped her off at the fabric store as he and Samantha went to the hardware store to grab paint. All the while, Charlotte’s eyes roved through the town. Was Ezra here, somewhere?

  She headed to her favorite section. The plush fabric. The store had bolts and bolts of it, but she just couldn’t afford to buy it. She rubbed her hand across the soft fur, delighting in its softness. Ezra’s words came to her. “Someday, you will.”

  Charlotte took in a deep breath to stave off tears of worry.

  Where are you?

  Settling on a cheaper, cotton fabric, she ordered three yards, grabbed a spool of thread, and paid for her items.

  Samantha’s car was idling out front when she was finished. She hopped in the back, and the three of them went out for an early dinner at a local diner. Feeling like a third wheel, she followed them inside.

  A waitress led them to a table, and they sat down.

  “This place is cut
e. You never find the old rustic look in Phoenix. It’s so metropolitan.”

  Once their meals came, Charlotte was happy to be distracted by the food. She liked Samantha. She seemed like a sweet girl, and she was delighted for Cole. It was just that every time she looked at them together, giving each other that dreamy look, she wished it was her. How had she ended up falling for the bad guy?

  “Samantha and I are going to paint the store. We wanted to give you a break.” Cole leaned in and kissed Samantha on the cheek and Charlotte could take no more. She had to get away.

  “That’s great. Oh, I forgot. I’ve got this flyer I made for the new lodging. I want to post it on the board,” Charlotte said, leaving the lovebirds to their dinner. She’d already eaten as much as she could, and wasn’t very hungry to begin with.

  As she passed the countertop diners on her way to the front of the restaurant, a man caught her attention. From the back, he had a husky build, short black hair, and was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Her heart stopped. It was him.

  Not knowing whether to approach him or keep walking, Charlotte stood and watched. The man cut his chicken and lifted the fork to his mouth. Even the way he made those small moves, she was sure it was him. If only she could see his face.

  Without another thought, she walked forward and tapped him on the back. “Ezra?”

  The stranger turned giving her a toothless smile. From the front, he looked nothing like Ezra. His scruffy beard and long nose were proof of that. Not to mention the pockmarks on his face that proved he’d had a rough time with acne as a teenager.

  “Well hello, darling. The name’s Joe. But you can call me whatever you like.”

  “So sorry.” Charlotte’s face heated. “I thought you were someone else.”

  “Well, that’s okay. Feel free to have a seat. I don’t bite.”

  “Uh, no thank you. It was nice talking to you. I have to go.”

  The stranger let out a guffaw as Charlotte rushed off, heart pounding in her chest, to the corkboard. She posted her flyer and hurried back to her table.

  Once she got back, Samantha was handing the bill to the waitress.

  Her heart was still beating double-time as she asked, “What’s going on?”

  “I told her not to,” Cole advised.

  “Oh, come on. I’m getting a week’s room and board, the least I can do is flip for a little paint and food.”

  “You paid for the paint, too?”

  “It’s no big deal, sis. She wanted to.” He looked at Samantha adoringly.

  “Thank you, Samantha. I appreciate your help,” she said as they headed out to the car. “Things are a little tight lately.”

  At least that was one worry she didn’t have to mull over.

  “So, I heard. Don’t worry one bit. I’m glad to help.”

  When they were close to home, Charlotte was almost asleep when Cole’s voice startled her.

  “It’s been a week,” Cole called back to her. “You ready to test out the horses?”

  Charlotte yawned. “Yeah. We’ll do it just like Dad taught us.”

  “And how’s that?” Samantha asked.

  “We bring them out to the corral and put them through a series of tests. It’s rather ―” Cole stopped. “Charlotte. Is that Clementine?”

  Charlotte looked out in the direction of the flowing San Pedro River. “It’s her! Stop the car!”

  Samantha hit the brakes hard. Charlotte’s seat belt slung her back. She unbuckled it and ran out into the desert. Cole was right behind her.

  When they got closer, they slowed down. “Don’t spook her,” Charlotte whispered.

  “Hey, girl.” Cole clicked his teeth. “It’s okay. It’s me, Cole.”

  Clementine lifted her head in a soft whinny.

  “Yeah, that’s right. It’s just Charlotte and me. You ready to come home, girl?”

  Cole walked up to Clementine and Charlotte stayed back while he talked calmly to the horse. “Come on, girl. It’s okay.” He put his hand out for her to sniff.

  Clementine responded to him, and he petted her. “That’s a good girl. We’ve been looking for you for a week.”

  Charlotte came forward and held out her hand. “Hey, girl. We’ve missed you. You ready to go home?”

  “She has no reins, and we can’t ride her being this far along, I’ll walk her back.”

  “I want to come with you. She could foal at any time. We should both be with her.”

  Cole agreed. He told Samantha they’d meet her at the house and the two of them walked the mare home, gently soothing her the entire way.

  Thank you, Lord!

  Chapter 19—Ezra

  Ezra sat under the bridge where dozens of homeless people congregated for the evening. The bridge crossed over a wash that in rainy months kept the city from flooding. It was dry most of the year, and that’s where many of the homeless came to sleep. It was relatively safe and far enough out of town that the police didn’t bother them. Some of them he’d seen as a boy, many of them were new. All of them were hungry.

  He’d found out where his father was staying, but he hadn’t brought himself to go speak with him yet. With no money, and undecided about meeting his father once again,he closed his eyes as memories surfaced.

  “Get out of here, kid!” a man wearing a white apron with crimson blood running down the front called out to him. “Don’t let me catch you around here again.”

  “Can I have a dollar, mister?” Ezra asked boldly. He hadn’t eaten in days.

  “What do I look like? Go find your family. The streets are no place for a kid.”

  Ezra turned with a frown and walked away.

  “Wait a minute,” the butcher called to him. “Where're your parents?”

  “My mom’s dead. My dad . . . I ran away.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m ten, sir.”

  The butcher’s eyes showed concern. “Now look, you can’t stay behind my building. I’m sorry about your mom. Maybe you and your father can work it out? I’m sure he didn’t mean ta―”

  Angrily, Ezra pulled up his shirt to show the fresh scars.

  “Maybe not, then.” The butcher reached into his pocket, he pulled out a bill. “This is all I got.” He handed Ezra a five-dollar bill. “You go down to that bridge just outta town. There are some others out there. They take care of each other. Sleep there at night. You’ll be safe there.”

  Ezra took the money and thanked him.

  The man hadn’t called the police that day, and Ezra had been thankful. He knew nothing about life at that time. What if the man had called the police? Would his father have been arrested? Would he have been thrown into some foster care system? How different would his life be if he’d never have met Garrett?

  An older man, wearing a US Vet ball cap limped over to him and sat down. The odor that wafted through the air was one that Ezra knew well. Living on the streets in the dead of summer, everyone smelled bad.

  “Haven’t seen you around. Tough break?”

  “Something like that. How about you?”

  “Army, twelve years. After the Iraq war, never been the same. They call it some big fancy word, but basically, I’m all jacked up. Couldn’t hold a job for the life of me. After the wife and kids left me, I settled on the streets.”

  “PTSD?” Ezra asked.

  “Something like that. Seems, if even a pin dropped, I was hiding under a table to take cover.”

  “The army didn’t help you? I mean after you got out?”

  “They tried to git me some of that mumbo jumbo counseling, but that stuff, it doesn’t work. Them people that sit in their cozy chairs behind their pretty little desks, they ain’t ever seen no man get killed.”

  Ezra chuckled. “I imagine you’re right.”

  “Like I was saying that lady they set me up with, so thin and frail, she’d about have a conniption when she broke a nail, how was she going to help me?”

  “You think a normal person, I mean one who hasn
’t been in a war, can have PTSD?”

  “Why sure. It’s just your brain going all wacko from the trauma. The brain can only take so much before it shuts down. Why? You jump under tables dodging imaginary bullets, too?” He chuckled as if it were a joke.

  “Nah. I was just curious.” Although the more he thought about it, the more he wondered about the fear rooted inside his heart. The way his brain had always gone into panic mode that first year after he’d run away. How, for the longest time, he’d duck and cover at the slightest glance. Those were things he’d learned to overcome over the years, but a nagging fear of never being accepted had settled in his heart.

  “I’ll tell you what saved me from offing myself and just letting it all go, though. It was one of those street preachers. He comes out here every Sunday. Brings us food and usually says a couple of words. Most of the guys, they laugh and carry on after he leaves. I did too at first, but one day his words got to me. He’d said the only right fear was the fear of the Lord. Once I got that settled in my heart, I wanted to learn more. That man, he sat me down, told me that it weren’t right for me or anyone else to be on the streets, but that God loved me just as much as any other. I gave my heart to Jesus that day.”

  “Then why are you still here?”

  The veteran chuckled. “God ain’t no get rich quick plan. I figure he put me here for a reason. I’ve been through the wringer, that ain’t no lie, but I’ve been able to help a man or two get right with the Lord.”

  Ezra thought about it some. His mind went back to Charlotte humbled in prayer. “I thought God was supposed to watch over His people. What good is it if they still have to suffer?”

  “Crazy thing about that. It’s not this life that He guarantees happiness. Preacher showed it to me right out of the good book. Says Christians will suffer for His namesake. It’s just how it is. Believing in something even after all the suffering and pain, it’s healing. Did I tell you ain’t had one bad dream since the saving? I may be dirty and old, but I know where I’m going.”