A Deal with the Cowboy’s Tangled Heart: A Historical Western Romance Book

by Cassidy Hanton

  “We were heading home when it happened,” Blossom explained quietly. “It was in an alleyway. I wasn’t even paying attention until suddenly it was happening. I was so confused. My mother didn’t- we didn’t understand. There were just these robbers who appeared out of nowhere. A group of robbers. I still don’t remember how many there were. Four, maybe. Even ten, I suppose. I never got a good look.”

  It had all been such a confusing turn of events. Blossom remembered trying to explain it to her father. She had been so befuddled, forgetting details and changing the story when it didn’t seem to make sense.

  Her father asked her to take her time and slowly the story had made its way out. They had talked to the sheriff about it, and then she had never said it again.

  Though Blossom had gone over the incident time and time again, she wished for some new memory or revelation to appear. Only it never did. She still didn’t know who those men were and the sheriff had never figured it out either. No one had a clue. None of it ever made sense.

  They reached the end of the grove.

  When they did, she glanced around and hesitated. Walking out of the cover suddenly felt dangerous, as though she would be naked.

  Blossom shivered and turned them around so they could be buried back under the foliage of the trees. She felt more comfortable under them, safer and more secure as she confessed her story.

  After a few more steps, she continued her story carefully. “They wanted our supplies. It wasn’t much. I don’t remember how much. Only that we didn’t want to. But we were going to, I think. But I was clumsy and scared. I bumped into my mother when I saw more of them, you see. It was all my fault. I made everything worse. They started to shout. Everything got out of hand so quickly.”

  It all felt like such a nightmare. Sometimes she still dreamed about it.

  When she did, it was never the same. Something was always different. Once, she had been one of the robbers. Sometimes no one died and sometimes everyone died. It never made sense, though, and she always woke up in a cold sweat and wishing she didn’t remember a thing. It was never a happy dream no matter what happened.

  Blossom shuddered. She was glad she was still holding hands with him. Part of her worried he would let go any minute and just take off running as though she were crazy or lying.

  “You don’t have to…” Chester started tersely.

  “I’m almost done,” Blossom shook her head. She could do this. She had to. He didn’t think she was crazy or lying. Because he trusted her, she trusted him. She could tell him. “My mother wanted to protect me. They came at us, you see. She wanted to fight back and protect me. I got knocked down rather quickly and hardly saw a thing. But I did hear the gun go off.”

  Forcing herself to keep her head up, she managed a grim smile up at him. This was a horrible battle she was fighting with herself.

  Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest as though it wanted to escape right out of her skin. But she wouldn’t let it.

  She could do this, no matter how much it hurt.

  “Blossom…” Chester managed in a breathless whisper. His eyes were opened wide in a shocked expression.

  No one ever knew what to say when they learned of her mother. The month after her mother’s passing, people had either rushed up to her to hug her or crossed the street to avoid her. It was always one or the other. She hadn’t minded either way, too lost in her own grief to care.

  But five years had passed, and she was beginning to accept the constant ache in her heart. She knew it would never leave her. And there was a small strength in her now, she found, in being able to share the pain. It hurt terrible, but it felt as though she were washing a wound clean of dirt so it could begin to heal.

  She let out a slow, deep breath. “I miss her,” Blossom said slowly. “Very much. Every day. When I managed to sit up, I found the robbers gone and my mother was already dead. There was nothing anyone could do. We don’t have any idea who they were. They only stole a few things. Not Davey, though.”

  She licked her lips as she glanced down at their intertwined hands. She had never held hands with a young man before.

  Her stomach twisted as she thought about all that she had just said. Though Blossom knew that her father wouldn’t like how she had just told Chester everything, there was something bold about how vulnerable she had just been with him. She felt safe around the young man. The way he held her hand and the way he looked at her always made her feel like she was seen.

  Again, she wondered where he came from and what he was doing there.

  It was as if he had come out of nowhere just to step into her life right when she really needed him. Like a miracle from heaven. It had to be impossible. Or is it?

  Surely they should have met before all this time. Blossom sneaked a quick look up at the young man as his hair fell in his eyes. He was looking down in serious thought.

  She wondered if he was thinking about her. Already her cheeks turned bright pink, though the notion was presumptive.

  Of course, he had been caught off guard by her story. It was not a happy one. It was painful and sad. Her heart hurt over it. But if he had not known about it, then he had not been here for very long.

  He must have come from far away a short while ago.

  Chester had come a long way. Like that strange friend of his.

  Thinking back to the man Elijah, Blossom tried to remember everything that Chester had told her about his former life. He said that he had not been a very good man. It sounded as though maybe he had been hiding from the likes of Elijah and some people like him. She pondered over that. Maybe that’s why he was hiding in a place where no one liked him.

  She listened to the beating of her heart as she wondered what might come next. Her eyes were misty but she wasn’t crying, and she was glad of that. She had cried quite enough around Chester lately, and she didn’t want him to think that all she did was cry. She was stronger than that.

  The lump in her throat was finally gone. Blossom took a slow deep breath as she searched for something to say. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to say something to lift the mood or something about her mother.

  She could say something about how pretty her mother had been, or how kind her mother was to everyone.

  Most of the town had attended the funeral at the church the morning after the robbers’ attack. The preacher had spoken from 1st Chronicles, her mother’s favorite book in the Holy Bible. Then her father had said a few words at the graveside.

  She had prepared a few words, but her throat had not worked that day.

  Instead, Blossom had offered a few bluebells on top of the casket. Her mother had loved them. They were part of the reason she had been blessed with her name when she was born.

  It had taken her days afterward to be able to find her voice. Even being alone at home hadn’t been enough or spending time with her father hadn’t helped her.

  When she couldn’t take spending time in silence at home, Blossom had spent time down at the pond with Davey watching him swim before she was able to find her voice again. She managed to whisper after a couple of days.

  When she giggled over him waddling around, she had immediately stopped over shame of finding a semblance of joy after losing her mother.

  But then she had walked into town to visit her mother’s burial place where she was able to talk quietly to her mother. There, Blossom realized that she could still feel peace and joy and experience laughter even after experiencing loss. It was a painful lesson and one that she had to learn over and over again for a while. But it was an important one that she was willing to relearn.

  Time was a hard teacher. But good things could come from it. She had found good things like Davey, after all, and Chester.

  Joy could still be found after hardship and pain. It was like finding the rainbow after a storm. Blossom knew this strongly within her heart that this was true. Her parents used to kiss her cuts and bruises when she was little, promising they would heal.

  All
hurts would heal, one way or another. And when they did, good things would come of them. They had to. Her heart thumped hopefully at the idea as she reminded herself to have hope and to be strong.

  Blossom looked up at the young man beside her. She could hardly believe she had been able to tell him everything about what just happened.

  Never had she felt so raw before. Biting her lip, she gave him a hopeful smile as she looked for his comfort.

  But to her surprise, Chester hesitated as he pulled his hand away from hers and took a step back.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chester’s Nightmare

  Throughout her story, Blossom hardly wavered.

  He wondered how she did it. Through the hardships she had faced and the pain she had endured, how she had come out on the other end to become a better person. She was still kind, still good.

  Blossom was so genuine and sweet that no matter what he said and did, she seemed to still forgive him and treat him like a good human being. She treated him like a friend. Chester had never known what that experience was like, and would always appreciate her for the gift that she had given him. It wasn’t something he ever thought he would ever experience.

  But as she shared her story, a dark cloud stormed over him.

  Already his heart was breaking for her when Blossom mentioned it had been her birthday. Then she mentioned the alley and a soft whisper had crept into the corners of his mind, making him wonder. But hurriedly he had waved it off, knowing it couldn’t be.

  It was impossible.

  Just because he had chosen to settle in the one place where something terrible had happened all those years ago didn’t mean that it was Blossom who had been there that day. Surely, no higher power would curse him so horribly to bring them together like this.

  Chester tried again and again to convince himself that this couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be happening. His gut clenched as a soft sweat broke across his brow. Part of him wanted to run away as the other part wanted to fall to his knees in denial.

  It couldn’t be true.

  She didn’t notice. He tried not to give her any reason for concern as she continued her story. Blossom went on to explain how confused she was about the attack, never noticing faces or understanding what was happening. She was turned around and scared. Her mother was protecting her. Nothing made sense. All she knew was that there were several robbers. Then suddenly they were gone and her mother was dead.

  The tightness in his stomach turned into nausea. He had been there.

  Chester had nightmares about that day as well, just like Blossom. But he had nightmares for different reasons. He had nightmares because he had been one of those robbers.

  It was that day, that moment that had made him reconsider everything he was doing. He changed his life and ran away from the gang before things could get any worse. Chester didn’t know if that was possible, since someone was already dead, but he wasn’t willing to stay around and see if they could. He couldn’t take it anymore. Leaving the gang was the best thing he could have done and he would never go back.

  And Blossom didn’t know any of that.

  She couldn’t.

  Thinking of how she missed her mother, Chester felt that heavy weight on his chest. That was the gang’s fault. They had taken her mother away. And for what? A few shopping goods? It had never been worth it. He had never missed anyone the way Blossom missed her mother.

  He recalled the men washing the blood off in the river. There had been blood on his hands, too. When the woman had fallen, he had run over to her. But she was already gone.

  It wasn’t the first time Chester had seen a dead body. But it was the first time Chester thought that someone had died when they weren’t ready. It was the first time he wanted to cry over someone who had died. He had seen the way she had moved in her last moments to protect the young woman behind her to keep her safe.

  She had been protecting Blossom.

  The realization struck Chester like a punch to the stomach. It hit him so hard that he couldn’t breathe for a second. He let go of Blossom’s hand and took a step back.

  Her eyes widened in confusion as she looked at him. She was so innocent. She didn’t know a thing. The young woman felt so many things, but she was innocent of harm and trouble. She didn’t deserve any trouble that had befallen her. Not back then, and not now.

  Chester couldn’t believe it. It was his fault that she was in pain. For years he had thought over that day, sure that he could have done things differently. If only he had said something, talked the gang out of that town or tried following someone else, if he had convinced them to do something else, then those two women would have been safe. Then Blossom and her mother would have been safe and happy. Knowing now how much pain that she had endured because of him killed him.

  In that moment as well, he realized that he cared more for her than a friend.

  He didn’t know much about friends. But he did see how Arthur and Betty Bretts cared for each other. And that’s how he cared for Blossom. Chester had grown to love her quickly over the last couple of days because of her strength, her kindness, and her goodness.

  But it was because of him she had suffered unendurable pain.

  Devastated, he shook his head. Chester couldn’t do this to either of them. Especially not to her. She would only ever see him as the man who took her mother away.

  “You should go home,” he choked out.

  Chester stumbled back another step as he tried to catch his breath. He felt like he was going to fall over and pass right out. He didn’t know what to do. If he wasn’t careful, he might tell her everything.

  Maybe I could tell her. Maybe she would understand.

  But no, he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. There was not a chance that he could put her through more pain than what she had already been through. Chester couldn’t do that to her. Rather, the best thing he could do was put as much distance between them as he could. Just like they had once had distance between them before.

  He had thought it strange how they lived on opposite sides of town. That's why they had never met one another before. But now it all made sense. This was the world’s way of telling them that they never should have met in the first place. The truth was bound to come out one way or another.

  Though grateful he was the one to realize this connection between them first and not her, Chester felt the weight hanging heavily on his shoulders.

  Blossom could never know.

  “What?” She glanced around in confusion. “What do you mean? Is something wrong? I told you that my dad is doing well. I just wanted to come see you.”

  Chester wiped his brow. He smiled and then he frowned. He wanted to shout at her but he didn’t want to scare her away. But he had to do something. I have to end this. Now. Only he didn’t know how.

  It had to end between them before anything went any farther. The truth would come out eventually. It always did. Chester believed that firmly. Someday, Blossom would know. And when she learned about who had been there when her mother passed away, he didn’t want her thinking that he had tricked her.

  Instead, it was better that he just leave now. That they stopped being friends now. He swallowed hard as he tried to think clearly. But this moment felt like an entirely new nightmare as he tried to find the right words to tell Blossom to stay away from him without telling her the reason even though he didn’t want to leave her side. This wasn’t a nightmare that he could run away from or wake up from.

  “I know.” Chester cleared his throat. The wound in his shoulder twinged and he flinched. When Blossom gave him a worried look and stepped toward him, he backed up. “I’m fine. I’m fine, Blossom. But you’re not fine. I mean, that’s not what I mean.”

  Blossom gave him a wary look. “Then what do you mean? I don’t think you get to make decisions about who I am or what I feel.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant,” he scrambled to explain himself. His eyes focused on hers and then glanced away, and then back t
o her over and over again. “Only that I… I have to go. And you should go.”

  “I should go?” she asked with a confused laugh. “Go where?”

  “Go home,” Chester said pointedly. “And not come back.”

  She gave him a strange look, her eyes squinting at him to try and understand. “I’m not sure that quite makes sense. What sort of game is that?”

  Chester swallowed a groan that threatened to emerge. It took everything he had within him not to take off running. He wanted to. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Though his hands balled into fists, Chester gritted his teeth as he searched for the right words to explain to Blossom to make her understand.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he managed in what he thought was a calm tone. “Just go home and don’t come back.”