Brokken Brother: Novella (Brokken Road Romance Book 5)

by Abagail Eldan

  Fritz frowned at him. There weren’t many sharpshooters better than Klint Caper. “Who?”

  Klint stretched to his full height, and his shoulders became rigid, as if expecting an onslaught. His eyes met Fritz’s. “Chance. Chance Hale.”

  Fritz spit one word out. “No.”

  Deborah did likewise at the exact same moment. Anger flashed in her eyes, aimed at Klint. He should have wilted under her glare.

  Klint ignored her, and Fritz felt Klint’s hand tighten on his arm. He lowered his voice. “You won’t regret it if he rides with us.”

  Deborah clutched at Fritz’s other arm. Fritz patted her hand and pulled away from Klint’s grasp. “My no is final.”

  Deborah’s eyes filled with relief, and she nodded her agreement. They headed back to the sitting room just as Sheriff Vic called out, “Supper’s ready. Y’all wash up.”

  LYDIA KNEW CHANCE WOULD be visiting Deborah, as he did every night and planned to intercept him. To tell the truth, Mr. Caper’s behavior had her worried. He had not returned, and her curiosity had gotten the best of her. After locking up the bank, she walked toward the Brokken Road. The air was cool, and she tightened her shawl around her shoulders. Darkness gathered when she finally spotted him.

  A full moon illuminated his figure. He tipped his hat. “Good evening, Miss Lydia.”

  “Mr. Hale.” She dipped her head in his direction and fell in step by him. “I suppose you’re going to see Deborah?”

  He nodded and kept walking. Her shoes pinched her feet as she struggled to keep pace with him.

  “Did you hear one of Deborah’s brothers has returned?” She kept her voice light as if she only exchanged a bit of gossip.

  He came to a stop and turned to fully face her. “Yes, I’ve heard. Colonel Fritz Brokken, accused of robbing Brokken Bank rode into town this morning. Little Calvin came to the ranch this morning to tell Mr. Isaac and me. Calvin’s a regular Pony Express.”

  Lydia laughed. “Calvin seems to enjoy delivering news or spreading rumors. Take your pick.”

  Mr. Hale removed his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and stared into the distance. “Have you heard anything further?”

  “Fritz has been released from jail and is at the Brokken house. I thought you might want to know.” She bit her lip and waited for his response.

  He gave a short nod, and she reached out a hand to stop him when he started to move away. He paused and gave her a questioning look.

  “Do you mind if I tag along?” She was glad the partial darkness hid her cheeks that she knew blazed red.

  The quizzical expression remained, but he nodded. “I would be delighted with your company.”

  They were less than half a block from the Brokken house, and she grasped his arm, giddiness overcoming her. Her laughter bubbled forth, and they strolled to the house without speaking. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. She had to remind herself she only wanted to find out what was happening and had no interest in seeing Fritz. He was lost to her, no matter what happened.

  Almost as soon as Chance knocked, Deborah opened the door. A smile spread across her face. “Chance, you must come in and meet my brother.”

  She pulled him through the doorway before her gaze landed on Lydia. Lydia stepped forward into the light spilling from the house.

  “I happened to run into Mr. Hale, and he insisted I accompany him.” She cast a sideways glance at Mr. Hale, and he nodded, as if Lydia’s lie was true.

  “Of course,” Deborah cried. “Fritz will be happy you came by.”

  Mr. Hale stepped back to let Lydia pass. Deborah took Lydia’s arm, and Chance followed. Deborah led her into the dark sitting room. “Fritz! We have company.”

  Fritz had been standing by the fireplace, his head down. He held the poker in his hand and thrust it at the logs. Oil lamps had been lit, and light skittered around the room.

  Lydia could not help her heart leaped to her throat when he looked up and saw her. His face had been unmasked, and a smile lit his eyes, as if he was genuinely happy to see her. Almost as quickly as it appeared, it faded away, as if a shade lowered. His face regained impassivity, although the look had done its job. A warmth settled within her, and she forced herself to move out of his line of sight. Fritz’s gaze traveled to Mr. Hale, but he did not speak or acknowledge him in any way.

  Deborah’s eyes were alight as she pulled her fiancé closer to her brother. “Fritz, this is Chance Hale.”

  Mr. Hale had removed his hat when he entered the house and still held it in his hand. He gave a wary nod to Fritz.

  Lydia felt the chill between the two men as they sized each other up. Although Mr. Hale was slightly taller than Fritz’s six-foot height, he had a slenderer build. Fritz’s shoulders were broader, and his overall build more muscular.

  Deborah took her brother’s hand and gave a small laugh. “I told you I was engaged! You didn’t believe me?”

  After a long moment, Fritz moved the poker to his left hand and extended his right. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” Mr. Hale said. The two men barely touched hands.

  Deborah moved closer to Mr. Hale, took his arm, and tilted her chin. “I know he’s a Yankee, but the War is over. We’re one nation now.”

  Neither man spoke nor smiled. Fritz went back to jabbing at the logs. Sparks scattered, and a flame burst forth briefly. Fritz added another log and more kindling and ignored the pleading in his sister’s voice.

  Lydia took a step back, regretting her decision to trail along after Mr. Hale. The sadness mingled with anger on Fritz’s face sent pains shooting through her heart. She was here now and would make the most of it.

  Chapter Five

  The fire danced in the fireplace, although the place where Lydia stood remained in the shadows. The room was wide and long, wallpapered in a navy print that only served to darken the room. The vignette around the fireplace drew her closer, with its warmth of tans and reds.

  Without a word, Fritz flopped down on a leather chair, surprising Lydia with his behavior. He’d normally ask his guests to sit before taking a seat. He leaned back in the chair, the wingbacks hiding his face, and stretched his legs out on the ottoman.

  Deborah motioned to Lydia, and Lydia took a chair away from Fritz, although one where she could see his face if she leaned forward ever so slightly.

  Fingers of light danced along the walls and emphasized the silence. Lydia studied Fritz, unobserved. His cheeks were sunken, and his skin weathered, as if he’d been a long time in a cold wind. On the rare occasions he raised his head, his eyes were glazed—sad if Lydia had to name their expression. She longed to comfort him in some way.

  Mr. Hale had taken a seat next to Deborah on the settee, his hat still in his hand. He kept his eyes on his hat as he twirled it around and around.

  Deborah chatted about the bank, about their supper, about how the town had changed. Nothing caught either man’s attention.

  Lydia felt horrible. She should be helping Deborah carry the conversation, not sitting there lost in her own thoughts. She cleared her throat. “Have you told Fritz about his surprise?”

  Fritz raised his head slowly, his eyes still dull. “What surprise?”

  Deborah shot Lydia a smile before turning back to her brother. “I haven’t had a chance. Do you remember Windy’s colt? Rebecca Walsh has been working with him.”

  “Yes?” He straightened in his seat and turned to fully face his sister.

  Lydia spoke before Deborah could, hoping to garner his interest. “Lucky has come along fine.” Her cheeks heated when she remembered how the horse had thrown her. It’d been her fault, of course, taking the horse out before he was fully trained.

  “Lucky? I’d forgotten we’d named him that.” Fritz gave Lydia a brief glance, but a sparkle of interest lingered.

  “We’ll go see him tomorrow—” Deborah broke off, and her gaze fell to her hands.

  Fritz frowned at her and then visibly forced a smile. “Yes, we will. T
omorrow.”

  Silence fell. Deborah kept her face averted from Lydia, but she could have sworn she saw her wipe away a tear.

  “Where’s Sheriff Vic?” Lydia asked.

  Deborah cleared her throat, but her voice was hoarse when she spoke. “She went down to the jail, to make sure it was securely locked.”

  Lydia stood, and the two men got slowly to their feet. “I must be on my way. The family will be worried about me.”

  Fritz moved restlessly. “And I’m sure Mr. Hale needs to get going, too.”

  “Fritz! Chance is my company.” Deborah shot Fritz a look and then took Lydia’s arm. “I’ll walk you out.”

  “Goodnight, Miss Walsh,” Fritz said, without looking in her direction.

  “Goodnight.” Her voice was barely a whisper, all she could manage. Anguish had closed her throat.

  “Chance, keep my brother company. I’ll be right back.” Deborah took Lydia’s arm, and they went into the hallway to retrieve her coat and bonnet.

  Lydia leaned close to Deborah. “What’s going on?”

  Deborah looked startled. “What do you mean?”

  Lydia motioned toward the sitting room. “All of that in there. They barely spoke to each other.”

  “Oh, you know men. They’re still fighting the War.”

  Lydia laid the back of her hand on Deborah’s cheek for a moment. “There’s more. You’re upset about something.”

  Deborah caught Lydia’s hand and pulled it down. “Fritz was arrested today. That was humiliating.”

  “But he explained everything to the sheriff’s satisfaction?” Lydia busied herself with donning her coat and gloves.

  Deborah shrugged, her eyes darkening. “I don’t know. Vic is going to do some investigating tomorrow.”

  The men’s loud voices emerged from the sitting room, and Deborah hurried to the door. Lydia came to a stop behind her. Fritz and Chance were face to face. No, nose to nose.

  “Stay away from my house,” Fritz growled.

  “Your house? Your sister lives here, and I abide by her wishes, not yours.”

  Fritz laid his flat palms against Mr. Hale’s chest and pushed. “You’ll do what I say.”

  Mr. Hale staggered back and moved forward almost in one movement. Deborah cried out, but it was too late. Chance landed a solid blow on Fritz’s jaw. Fritz stumbled and bent over although he recovered quickly. He lowered his right shoulder and plowed into Mr. Hale. They fell to the floor.

  The backdoor opened although no one paid any heed. The men rolled back and forth, slamming each other with their fists. Deborah screamed for them to stop. Lydia was too stunned to do more than to ineffectively gesture at them.

  Sheriff Vic came from the kitchen. “What in blazes is going on? Stop it now.”

  The men were beyond reason. The sheriff grabbed Mr. Hale’s shirt and pulled him back. He swung wildly until Deborah stepped between him and her brother. Then his shoulders slumped forward, and he placed his hands on the floor, panting. Deborah knelt beside him.

  Fritz tried to scramble to Mr. Hale. The sheriff grabbed his arm, twisted it around his back and sat down on him.

  “I should’ve kept you in the cuffs,” she said calmly.

  Fritz struggled for a moment and then stilled. The sheriff nodded toward Mr. Hale. “You ladies go with Chance. He needs to get home before I let Fritz up.”

  “Why don’t you arrest him?” Fritz grumbled. “He tried to kill me. In my own home.”

  Mr. Hale swiped the back of his arm across his mouth, trailing a streak of blood. He sent a look to Fritz that should have had Deborah’s brother keeling over.

  The sheriff motioned again with her head, and Deborah and Lydia, one on each side, led Chance down the hall, pausing only long enough for him to grab his coat, and then outside.

  Once on the porch, Mr. Hale raked back his hair. “I left my hat.”

  “Promise me you’ll stay here, and I’ll go get it,” Deborah said. “Keep him here, Lydia.”

  Lydia nodded. Chance rubbed his chin, and worked his jaw, groaning. Deborah ran in the house and returned almost immediately with the hat.

  Deborah placed a hand on his arm and peered into his face. Anger danced in her eyes. “Are you all right?”

  Mr. Hale pulled away. “Don’t make a fuss,” he muttered.

  Deborah glanced from Chance to Lydia. “I’m sorry. Fritz is under a lot of stress.”

  Lydia wasn’t sure to whom she apologized—to her or to Chance. She nodded. “I understand, Deborah. It must have been a shock to come back to find his brothers had robbed the bank.”

  Mr. Hale scoffed.

  Lydia glanced at him and raised a brow. “What? You don’t think he’s upset over his brothers robbing the bank?”

  “Not if he was in on it himself. And anyone can see he was.” Mr. Hale glanced at Deborah and ducked his head, as if he’d known he’d said too much.

  Deborah took a step back and pointed a finger at him. “Don’t ever say that again. This does not concern you, Chance. You haven’t married into this family yet, so I suggest you do not get in the middle of it.”

  He raised his head, and his lips twisted, eliciting another groan, and he touched his lip before he spoke. “Middle of what?”

  Lydia agreed something was going on with Fritz. And if he’d been living in New York for months, why did he look so weather-beaten?

  Deborah’s lips compressed in a straight line, and she raised her arms to shoo both away. “My meaning is clear. This is a family problem, and it is in your best interest to stay out of it. Now, please leave. It’s freezing out here.”

  Mr. Hale settled his hat on his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow? Unless that’s getting in the middle of something?”

  “Please go,” Deborah said. She turned on her heel and disappeared into the house without bidding either of them goodnight.

  Lydia took Mr. Hale’s arm and pulled him forward, to get him going. He walked beside her without protest until they came to the end of the road. He came to a stop and held up a hand. She released him, and he leaned forward, with his hands on his knees, to spit.

  When he did so, a dark shadow emerged from under a clump of trees, and Lydia stifled a cry. Her heart beat furiously in her chest until she recognized Mr. Caper.

  The moon shone bright enough that she could see him clearly. He tipped his hat at her, but his eyes were on Mr. Hale. “What’s going on?”

  Mr. Hale didn’t answer, still bent at his waist.

  Lydia considered how much to reveal to Mr. Caper. “Fritz and Mr. Hale had a disagreement,” she mumbled.

  Even in the dim light, the sparkle in his eyes was evident. He gave her a wink. “I suppose that is one way of expressing it.”

  Mr. Hale straightened and wiped his mouth again, probably wiping away more blood. The moonlight was not bright enough for her to tell.

  Mr. Caper studied him and then grinned at Chance. “I hope you did not damage Fritz more than the damage inflicted upon you.”

  Even by the thin light of the moon, the anger flashing in Chance’s eyes was clearly seen.

  “I must be getting home.” Lydia gave a wave and walked away. She did not want to find herself in the middle of another fight, even as a bystander.

  Mr. Hale flicked a glance in her direction but didn’t speak. When he turned to Mr. Caper instead, she made a quick decision. She ducked behind a nearby bush and peered through its branches. Her curiosity had gotten the best of her.

  “What if I did?” Mr. Hale glared at Mr. Caper as if he planned to punch him as he had Fritz.

  Lydia slipped farther into the shadows and hoped they’d continue talking. Her need to know what was going on with Fritz overcame the anxious beating of her heart. Maybe Mr. Caper knew something, and he would share that knowledge with Mr. Hale.

  Mr. Caper rubbed his chin slowly and took his time answering. “Well, if Fritz is hurt badly, that would be a shame. It might interfere with our plans.”

  “What plan
s?” Mr. Hale frowned and touched his jaw, grimacing as he did so.

  Mr. Caper glanced around. “Where has the lovely Miss Lydia disappeared to?”

  Mr. Hale shrugged. “She left, said she had to get home.”

  Mr. Caper glancing around. Lydia stooped lower very quietly and held her breath. After a moment, Mr. Caper seemed satisfied.

  He stepped closer to Mr. Hale. “I spoke to Fritz briefly. He needs our help.”

  “Our?”

  “Yes, our. I’m not doing this without you.”

  “Doing what?” Mr. Hale placed his hands on his knees again and spit.

  Lydia twisted her fingers. What if Fritz had badly hurt Chance? Relief flooded her when he straightened again and turned toward Mr. Caper.

  Mr. Caper seemed unaware or uncaring of Mr. Hale’s pain. He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not rightly sure what we will be doing, although it appears Deborah’s other two brothers are in trouble.”

  Mr. Hale did not speak for a moment. When he did, his voice held weariness. “Where?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Mr. Hale straightened to his full height. “So, I’m supposed to go with you and Fritz”—he said the name as if he spit out poison—“without knowing where or why?” He shook his head and looked away.

  “We’re talking about Deborah’s brothers. They need your help.”

  Mr. Hale worked his jaw and softly touched the left side of his face. He then jerked a thumb in the direction of the Brokken house. “Fritz didn’t seem to want my help back there.”

  Mr. Caper sidled closer to Mr. Hale. “He doesn’t know you like I do. He needs your skill—”

  Mr. Hale held up a hand. “I haven’t touched a rifle in two years, if that’s what you’re getting at. I ain’t planning on doing it now.”

  “Not even to save Deborah’s brothers?”

  “Save them for what purpose? If they return here, they’re going to trial for robbing the bank.” His face hardened. “With any luck, Fritz will join them when they are incarcerated.”

  “Listen. I don’t know Fritz’s plan. Maybe after he rescues his brothers, they’ll keep riding, maybe out to California.”