Brokken Brother: Novella (Brokken Road Romance Book 5)

by Abagail Eldan

  “If they’re anything like Fritz, they are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. Let Fritz go and join them. Good riddance if the other two share his disdain of me.”

  “You’re upset. Think this over. What if Deborah finds out you didn’t lift a finger to help her brothers?”

  “How will she know? We let Fritz ride out to save his brothers. If you want to go, you are free to join him. I stay put here, and she’ll never know.”

  “She already knows. She was there when Fritz told me.”

  Mr. Hale sighed heavily. “Listen, Klint. I had a little chat with Fritz tonight. As you can see, it did not proceed amiably. If you want to help him, help him. Leave me out of it.”

  Mr. Caper clicked his tongue. “I had hopes we were friends. Would you send your friend to death and go on with your life here? Marry Miss Brokken and live happily ever after?”

  Mr. Hale glared at him again and then sighed heavily. “I don’t want to stand here all night arguing with you.”

  “Quit arguing and agree.” Mr. Caper slid another step closer to Mr. Hale and lowered his voice. “You know it’s the right thing to do.”

  “No, I do not, although I suppose you’ll keep pestering me until I agree.”

  “So, you agree?”

  Mr. Hale held up a hand. “I agree to find out more. If it’s not to my liking, I will walk away. Understand?”

  Mr. Caper nodded. “Yes. Fine. Whatever you want to do.”

  “When do we leave?” An even greater weariness colored his words.

  “Before sunrise.”

  “Before sunrise? You mean in a few hours?” Mr. Hale shook his head vehemently. “No. Deborah was upset with me. I will not leave without speaking to her.”

  Mr. Caper pointed down the street. “Go now. Just don’t speak of our plans.”

  “You said she knew.”

  “Yes, but the sheriff is in the house. She might overhear. Knock on the door, tell Deborah you’re sorry, and then you can ride out with us with a clear conscience.”

  Mr. Hale scuffed a toe of his boot. “I can’t. Sheriff Vic told me to go home. She’d probably arrest me if I go back.”

  Lydia, her heart beating wildly, left her hiding place in the bushes. “Mr. Hale, there’s no need to worry. I’ll get Deborah in the morning. I’m certain she will want to tell you goodbye. To leave, without a word, is not right, no matter the reason.” And was what Fritz had done, when he had gone away months ago, and what he planned to do again. Her heart constricted with the knowledge of his indifference to her.

  Mr. Caper took two strides, grabbed her arm, and gave a slight shake. “You little eavesdropper. I thought you went home.”

  “I suggest y’all keep a closer eye out while you’re on your little adventure.” She pulled out of his grasp and held up a hand. “I’m not telling anyone about your conversation. I’m Deborah’s friend, and I would never do anything to hurt her.”

  And that was true. But to be truthful, she hoped that she’d see Fritz one last time. Even if he did manage to return, he would be jailed, and nothing could prevent that.

  Her lip quivered. At least she’d see Fritz before he disappeared from her life forever.

  Chapter Six

  Lydia twisted her hands together to keep them from shaking.

  Mr. Caper looked up at the stars and was silent for a moment before he shook his head. “You can’t get Deborah involved in this, more than she already is. We cannot risk you two traipsing around when we leave and draw someone’s attention.”

  Lydia shook her head stubbornly. “She must tell Mr. Hale goodbye.”

  Mr. Hale shot her a grateful look, and a tightness formed at the corners of his mouth. “I’m not leaving until I see her.”

  “The more people involved, the more likely we are to be discovered. Go home, Miss Walsh and forget all you’ve heard.”

  Tears stung her eyes. She’d never told anyone but her mother, had even erased it from her own mind, pushing it to the far recesses. Now, she fully brought the memory to the surface and replayed it. Fritz had once spoken to her of marriage, in a joking way, as something in the near future. When Lydia had asked her mother if he might be serious, she had replied that a man was always serious when he spoke of marriage.

  If Fritz had not left, how different her life might now be. She would be Mrs. Brokken, and none of this would be happening. He would never have left with his brothers.

  She took a deep breath and blew it out softly, bringing her emotions under control. “It does involve me—at least, it involves my family’s business.”

  Mr. Caper frowned at her. “Exactly what do you mean?”

  “Deborah left a horse in our care, to be trained. My sister and Jake have been working with him for several months now.”

  Mr. Hale nodded quickly. “Yes. We have to go by the livery to retrieve the horse.”

  Lydia’s heart quickened at the thought her plan might succeed. “And I’ve seen the horses you two ride. We have a couple more that would suit your needs better.”

  Mr. Caper frowned at her. “Out of the question. We do not have the money to pay.”

  “Who asked you to pay? Consider them a gift.” Lydia smiled, happy to contribute to Fritz, even in such a small way.

  Mr. Caper removed his hat and beat it on his leg. “We’ll get hung for horse thieving.”

  Mr. Hale held up a hand. “Hold on. She’s right. We’ll need better mounts to keep up with Fritz. What if we trade our horses, and I’ll give the Walsh’s what little money I’ve managed to save?”

  Mr. Caper sighed heavily. “Reckon that might work. And Deborah’s paid me well at the bank. I’ll contribute my share.”

  “It’s settled then,” Lydia said with satisfaction. “I’ll get Deborah to meet us at the livery, before sunrise, and I’ll have the three horses saddled and ready.”

  Mr. Caper gave a short nod. “Do you think you can handle the horses by yourself? We do not want your sister or your brother-in-law involved.”

  “Of course,” Lydia lied. True, she’d been raised with horses, but she’d never taken an interest, especially when she was young, and her father and brother still lived and ran the livery. When they had not returned from the War, Rebecca had taken over, with a little help from their brother, Noah. He’d been sickly as a young boy and had never been a lot of help until Jake Wheeler arrived and treated him like a man instead of an invalid. And Lydia had never questioned the arrangements.

  But if Noah could do it, she could too. She’d watched Jake teaching Noah, at first because she’d been attracted to Jake. As time passed, she realized her attraction to Jake was only to fill the gaping hole left when Fritz had ridden away without a word. Anyway, she’d learned a few things about horses. If Noah could turn into a good horseman, so could she.

  Mr. Caper beat his hat against his leg again. “It’s time to get going. We’ve been standing around half the night.”

  Lydia’s heart beat wildly. She felt young and free, the world full of possibility—at least she had the possibility of seeing Fritz before he rode away. She reminded herself she was upset Fritz had hit Chance, but hadn’t Chance landed the first blow? As much as she liked Mr. Hale, Fritz had her heart. “I’ll see you gentlemen in a few hours. The horses will be ready.”

  They nodded and strode off together, their heads bent low. Instead of continuing home, she turned toward the Brokken house. She had no idea what time it was, but she’d see if Deborah was still awake.

  A steadiness filled her limbs. She could do this, no matter who answered the door.

  THE SHERIFF STERNLY told Fritz to go to his room and not show his face until the morrow, unless he wanted to be thrown into jail. His knuckles were raw, and he gingerly washed his hands and examined his face in the mirror. His lip was split, and his skin was yellowing beneath his left eye. He’d have a black eye by morning.

  He needed sleep, but restlessness filled him. As soon as he heard Sheriff Vic retire to her room, he slipped
from his.

  In the sitting room, Deborah was on her feet, pacing. The moment he appeared in the doorway, she came toward him.

  “Chance Hale is my fiancé. We will marry, and you will not stop us, no matter what shenanigans you pull,” she said, her voice low and flat. The look on her face made him hesitate to enter the room.

  She stepped aside. “We need to talk.”

  “Let it go, Deb.” Fritz took a seat and leaned his aching head back on the chair. He could have been getting a few hours of sleep instead of arguing with his sister. It was true he shouldn’t have hit that Yankee, not now when he needed time to rest, to plan, to prepare for what lay ahead. His fury had gotten the best of him. He flexed his arm and winced in pain.

  “Promise me you will not interfere again.” Her eyes flashed and narrowed.

  “I don’t want to argue,” he whispered.

  Deborah her eyes wet with tears, waved a hand. “Yes. I know you are leaving in a few hours, but you are coming back?”

  He gave her a reassuring smile. “I promise I will be back, with Karl and Curt.” It was an empty promise he knew, although perhaps it would comfort her.

  A soft knock sounded at the front door, and Deborah glanced at the cuckoo clock on the wall. “My goodness! It’s half past eleven. Who could that be at this hour?”

  Fritz jumped to his feet. “It might be Klint. I’ll get it.”

  But when he opened the door, it was Lydia, looking lovelier than ever, who stood on the porch. Without thinking, he stepped out and pulled the door shut behind him.

  Lydia took a step back, into the shadows. He stepped with her and, when she failed to retreat, drew her closer. “I’m sorry.” A faint scent of lavender, a scent he remembered from long ago, reached him.

  He didn’t know all he apologized for. Perhaps he apologized for fighting with Chance. Perhaps he apologized for leaving her for nine long months.

  Looking at her now, how he’d gotten the strength to go was beyond his remembrance. He cursed himself, knowing he’d be leaving her again. He pulled her even closer and dipped his head to capture the feel of those soft lips. She flattened a palm on his chest, and her hand fluttered against him. Instead of dissuading him, it filled him with desire.

  She turned her head and sidled away a half step. “Please, Fritz.”

  With an effort, he moved away and fought for control. The light spilled from the window, and he stopped there and waited for her to speak.

  She swallowed. “You should not have fought with Chance. We’ve been working hard to get our town to come together. Why undo all our good work? Chance loves Deborah and she loves him. Please, give them a chance.”

  His heart drummed in his chest, a mixture of desire and anger. More than likely, he’d never return. The thought of Chance marrying Deborah and living in his home had galled him into action, and he’d do it again, should the opportunity present itself. Chance Hale’s unsuitability for his sister was evident, and he failed to understand how anyone could defend him. Obviously, the sheriff and Lydia did not know Mr. Hale’s full background.

  He shrugged. “Surely, Deb can find someone more fitting.”

  “Love is unexplainable. They love each other.” Her eyes searched his.

  Fritz scoffed. Someone like Chance loved no one, could love no one. Doing what he did during the War took a cold-heart. He would be the last man on earth he would want married to his sister.

  Lydia came closer and smiled. “You’ll get to know him better and find out he’s a kind man. When you come back ...”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he lied and frowned at her. Who had told her?

  Pink infused her cheeks. “I heard Mr. Caper and Mr. Hale talking. I don’t know your plans, although I do know you’re leaving. I’ll have horses ready at the livery,” she said, as if reading his thoughts.

  Fritz did not respond, not sure how much she had overheard. To remain silent was preferable to the danger his words might incur.

  Tears hovered on her lashes. “Promise me you will be back.”

  Although he’d done so for his sister, he could not make such a promise to Lydia. With Deborah, it was different. His sister would have that Yankee, Chance Hale, to comfort her.

  Lydia was young, and a pledge to return would give her false hope. If he was killed along with his brothers, no one would know of their demise. To fully face facts, what lay before him was a suicide mission. However, he could not, would not, leave his brothers to die, not without exhausting all within himself to render aid.

  And to ask Lydia to wait for him was foolish.

  He sighed heavily. “I cannot make a promise beyond my control to keep.”

  She was silent for a moment and then cleared her throat, still in the shadows. “I don’t know what happened in the War, something to do with Mr. Hale—”

  He snorted. No lady needed to know what had happened in the War—no one, man or woman, should have seen such atrocities. He forced the images from his mind. “You don’t need to know.”

  “The War is over, especially here in Brokken. We need healing, not division.”

  He crossed his arms. “That might be possible with others but not with Hale.”

  “You’re being very hard.”

  “That’s what War will do to you.”

  She sighed loudly. “I wanted to speak to Deb.”

  “Go on in. She’s still up.”

  When she opened the door, and the light fell upon her, fully revealed her, his heart leaped to his throat. She glanced at him over her shoulder, her blue eyes pleading with him.

  He was glad when she’d gone through and closed the door behind her, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

  Chapter Seven

  Lydia had not lingered long. Whatever she’d said to Deborah had paled his sister’s cheeks, and Deb soon retired to her room.

  Fritz debated whether he needed to lie down for a while, gather his strength, but too much energy surged through him. The road beckoned, and he was restless to be on his way. He went through the house quietly and gathered food and supplies.

  At a quarter till six, he checked on Deborah and discovered her bed was empty. He puzzled for a few minutes and finally decided he couldn’t chance looking for her, not with the sheriff in the house, who’d be up any minute.

  He opened the backdoor wide enough to slip through and closed it softly. Klint waited for him at the end of the street, in the gray light before dawn. Neither man spoke.

  Skeins of silver rain, as fine as angel hair, misted around them. Fritz followed Klint to the livery, his hat pulled low against the damp cold.

  Lydia came forward from the stable and held out a palm toward them. Fritz stopped and frowned.

  It was a moment before his eyes became accustomed to the dark shadows cast around the stable. Two figures were entwined right in front of his eyes—his sister and that Yankee.

  He gave a snort of anger and started toward them. Klint grabbed his arm. When Fritz attempted to break away, Klint tightened his hold.

  He pulled Fritz back, none too gently. “Do not start fighting. Do you want to jeopardize your mission?”

  Although Fritz knew he was right, white-hot anger surged through him. He gave a low growl and pushed Klint forward. “You go break it up, then, before I break Chance Hale’s neck. What is he doing here anyway?”

  Klint took a step, glanced back over his shoulder, and grinned. “I talked him into going with us.”

  Fritz gritted his teeth. “I told you no. Deborah told you no.”

  Klint turned and approached him. “All right. Would you rather he stayed here and wooed Deborah while we’re gone?”

  Klint had a point. A thought flitted across Fritz’s mind of David sending Uriah to the front lines of battle. No, he’d never do that, but what if Chance went with them? That way, Fritz, at the least, could convince Mr. Hale to stay away from Deborah. And if one of them got left behind, with any luck, it would be Chance Hale.

  He gave Klint another pu
sh. “Get him off my sister and maybe he’ll live long enough to go with us.”

  When Klint approached, Chance and Deborah parted, although his sister still held Chance’s hand. Lydia proceeded into the stable, and Fritz gave Deborah a sharp look before he followed. Chance, Deborah, and Klint trailed after them.

  Lydia lit a kerosene lamp and turned it on low. The horses were already saddled and ready. Klint and Lydia had done their job. The scabbards on each horse held a rifle, and the saddlebags bulged, so full the supplies Fritz had brought would not fit.

  “Do you have a pack mule we can take?” Fritz asked Lydia.

  Chance spoke. “We have enough provisions. A mule will slow us down.”

  Fritz ignored him. “Lydia?”

  Lydia smoothed her dress, a fancy dress to wear out to a stable. She nodded. “Yes, but he’s a little ornery.”

  Fritz’s glance lingered on her for a moment before he forced it away. “Where’s the mule?”

  “In the back stall,” she replied.

  He made his way toward it. Lydia did not follow.

  The bridle slipped over the mule’s head easily, but when he pulled the mule forward, it balked. Impatiently, he jerked the reins, and the mule kicked out.

  Klint looked over the boards of the stall at him. “You trying to wake everyone? We need to get going.”

  For some reason, his friend’s words only made him angrier. He yanked the reins harder and the mule kicked again. Several of the horses whinnied, and the mule brayed.

  Fritz ground his teeth, but he was not going to give in to a mule. He managed to get it into the yard, but not without further commotion.

  Two figures emerged from the house and came toward them. The man, someone Fritz did not recognize, held a lantern in one hand and a rifle in the other. He raised the lantern higher as they drew near. Heat crept up Fritz’s neck.

  “Great,” Klint whispered behind him. His friend held the reins of two of the horses. Chance, standing with Deborah, held the reins of another.