His Blessing in Disguise: A Western Historical Romance Novel

by Ava Winters

  He has another thing comin’ if he thinks he can have her.

  Jacob knew the second he saw Layla that she was exactly what he wanted. She worked hard. She didn’t complain. Moreover, she’d never set foot outside her hometown. She was perfect. Naïve, looking for adventure, and pure. And she was desirable to the other men in town. Jacob liked nothing more than getting the thing everyone else wanted. Layla was a prize, and he’d won her.

  He did not intend to lose his prize now.

  ************

  The next day, Gary was off to get the clothes they needed. The others remained working in the mining camp, but Jacob had more important things to do. He had to start laying down the foundation for their alibi.

  He rode into town on his stallion. He’d replaced the one he had back in Silvertown and now had a younger steed. The sun was warm as he travelled, and a small smirk tugged the corners of his lips as he rode to his destination. He would win Layla’s heart again. He would draw her back to him. No deputy was going to steal her away; not in his lifetime.

  Jacob dismounted his horse and tied it to the post outside of the saloon. It was late in the afternoon and the place wasn’t busy. He stalked in, and there, standing behind the bar, was his wife. The smile on his face grew at the sight of her.

  Layla was always a breath-taking beauty with her luxurious colouring – dark hair and fair skin – and her bright smile. However, it was mostly her charm that won folks over. She had a way of talking that made people feel warm and welcomed. Her smile could light up a room.

  She looked up at him with a still expression. There was a time when she’d smiled so brightly every time she saw him, it made his ego rise ten levels because it was just for him.

  You’ll smile like that for me again, Layla. Just wait and see. You’ll smile at me again.

  Jacob walked across the room and settled himself on a barstool. “Good afternoon, Layla,” he greeted. “How’ve you been lately?”

  “Fine,” she said shortly. “What can I get you?”

  Jacob sighed. What was she mad at now?

  “I’ll take a sarsaparilla, for now,” he answered. “A little early in the day to be drinkin’.”

  “Never stopped you before,” she retorted. She poured his drink and pushed it across the bar to him.

  “I told you, Layla, I’m a different man now.” He reached across the bar to take her hand, but Layla pulled it away.

  “Are you still angry at me for the other night?” he asked. “Look, I didn’t mean to frighten you or anything. I was just upset, that’s all.” He leaned closer. “How do you expect me to feel? Another man is walkin’ my wife home. Doin’ for her the things I should be doin’. How’s a man supposed to take that?”

  “Hush your mouth,” Layla said sharply as she leaned closer to him. It was clear that she wanted their conversation to be private. It was clear that the people in town still didn’t know the truth.

  Another card to play.

  “Layla, I’m your husband. I love you, whether you believe it or not. I’m tryin’ my best to be a better man, the man you deserve, but you keep refusin’ to see my good. You won’t give me a second chance.”

  “Jacob, can’t we just let the past go? Forget it and move on?”

  “No,” he replied. “I still love you. How can I forget that? How can you forget everythin’ between us?” He smiled at her. “Do you remember the way we used to talk? Do you remember my promise to show you the world? We could still do that. We could still travel the world. I just need to work and save up some money, and we can do it. We can do whatever you want, Layla. Please, just give me a chance.”

  He could see the wavering in her eyes. Layla hated hurting people, and Jacob knew it. It was a card that was sure to work in his favor. And he would keep playing it until he got his desired end. She would see that the bonds of marriage weren’t easily broken. She already knew that. She’d been an upstanding and moral girl when he’d met her. Untouched by the world and by men.

  “Layla, you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved,” he stated.

  “Do you think I’m stupid Jacob? I know there were other women before me,” Layla spat.

  He hung his head. “Yes, there were. I won’t deny it, but none that I loved. I just used them. I admit it.” He raised his eyes to meet hers. “I never put a ring on their finger, though I see my ring no longer has a place on your hand. It still has a place on your soul. You married me, Layla. You committed yourself to me, and me to you. That doesn’t just end because I was stupid.”

  “You’ll never change,” Layla retorted. “We both know that.”

  “No, we don’t,” Jacob said emphatically. “I’ve already changed; you just refuse to see it. All you can see is what that deputy sheriff is showing you, but it’s wrong, Layla. You know it is. How can he know that you have a husband and still want to pursue you? Doesn’t that tell you somethin’?”

  Confusion flashed across his wife’s face, and Jacob knew he had her. “You did tell him, didn’t you? You didn’t put that man’s soul at risk of judgment for messin’ with another man’s wife, did you?”

  Layla’s eyes narrowed at him defiantly. “Of course, I told him. I would have you know, he has never once attempted to get close to me in an inappropriate way. He’s a good man; an honorable man. He’s everything you aren’t.”

  Jacob laughed despite the burning envy in his chest. “Don’t be fooled by his appearance of goodness, darlin’. He’s still a man, and I know how men think. He wants you. He hopes to get you, that’s why he’s been watchin’ me down at the mine.”

  Surprise passed across Layla’s face.

  “You didn’t know? He’s been watchin’ me and my boys, but he hasn’t found anythin’, ‘cause there isn’t anythin’ to find. We’re keeping our heads down and workin’ to earn an honest dollar, like everyone else.”

  Jacob took his glass and raised it to his mouth. He drank it off in several long gulps before setting it aside. “I just want to make things up to you, Layla. Please, let me.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jacob was back, again. The man seemed to spend all of his time at the saloon when he wasn’t panning at the mining camp. If it was anyone else, Peter wouldn’t have minded, but he was Layla’s husband and a rat of a man. It made Peter sick to hear the way Jacob played with Layla’s emotions; his stories of hardship and work panning for gold. He wasn’t the first man to break his back laboring to make a living, why was he complaining? Everyone had to work. By the sweat of their brow, they would eat. Wasn’t that what the Good Book said? So why was it so difficult for Jacob McCarthy?

  Because he doesn’t like to work. That’s why he had Layla around, to do everything for him so he wouldn’t have to. He treated her poorly, and now he wants to get her back.

  Peter glared at the man from across the room.

  It won’t work. I swear it won’t. I’ll stop you, Jacob McCarthy. I won’t let Layla fall for your tricks again. She had no one before, but I’m here now and I won’t let you hurt her again.

  “Peter, I brought the new supply,” the brewery deliveryman informed him. Peter had not even heard Stan approach, as his mind was full with thoughts of Jacob and Layla.

  “Right,” Peter replied as he took the papers from the man. “Sign here, right?” He looked the papers over and glanced at the crates of alcohol nestled on the floor nearby. Peter made a quick inspection of them and found them all to be in order.

  “Help me take them into the back, Stan?” he asked.

  “Of course, Peter.”

  The pair walked to the storeroom, but Peter kept his eye on Jacob as they moved. He set the crates in a safe place, but left one to go behind the bar. He wanted to hear what lies Jacob was telling Layla.

  Stan left, and Peter took the crate to where the pair were conversing. He sidestepped Layla as she served drinks and set the crate down. He took his time unpacking the bottles, as he listened to their conversation.

  “Layla, panning for go
ld is hard work. I hover over the pan in the river all day and sometimes into the evening, to earn a living. I’m trying to show you how much I’m committed to this new stage in our lives,” Jacob stated.

  Peter bit his lip.

  “There is no new stage in our lives. This is my new stage. Then, there is yours. They aren’t the same, Jacob.”

  “But they could be,” he countered. “After all, what exists between us is more than just a passing fancy. You’re my wife,” he emphasized.

  Peter couldn’t help it; he felt the statement was made for his benefit. He looked over his shoulder to find Jacob staring right at him.

  He was saying that for my benefit. Peter smirked. Try what you want Jacob. I’m not going anywhere. Layla will divorce you. Then, she will be able to start her life over.

  “Jacob,” Layla scolded softly. Peter turned away before she could see him looking at them. The last thing he wanted was to pressure her, or for her to know that he was listening.

  What are you doing, Peter?

  “Layla, have dinner with me?” Jacob asked.

  “What? No, Jacob,” Layla answered.

  Jacob persisted. “Why not? Don’t I at least deserve to have a meal with you? I’ve done everything to prove to you my good intentions. Everything to show you that I can be a good husband. Why won’t you give me a chance? What is it?”

  “Alright, Jacob,” she conceded. “If it’ll keep you quiet, then I’ll have dinner with you. Please, stop talking about this here. I’m working,” she whispered. “Are you trying to get me fired?”

  “No, of course not,” Jacob replied. “I know you love your job. You do good work. you’ve always been an industrious woman. The day I met you, I knew you were a one of a kind woman.”

  “Stop, Jacob.”

  “What? Can’t I talk about our past? It is our past,” Jacob continued. “You and I had good times. You were smilin’ about them the other evenin’ when we were talkin’, what’s the matter now?”

  “Nothing,” Layla responded. “I just don’t want to talk about this now with all these people.”

  “Alright, we can talk more at dinner,” Jacob said. “I’ll make a reservation.”

  “A reservation?” Layla asked in confusion.

  Peter fought the urge to turn and ask her what she was doing. Why was she playing into Jacob’s hands like that? It was clear she didn’t want to, but for the sake of keeping him quiet, she was willing to have dinner with him.

  Is she falling for his act?

  Peter got to his feet. He couldn’t bear to hear another word from Jacob’s lying lips. He was sure it was all lies. Despite the fact that the man did work daily, something about him didn’t sit well with Peter—and he knew well enough to trust that feeling. There was something wrong with Jacob, and Peter was determined to find out what. But first, he needed to show Layla that there was someone who cared about her more than Jacob did. It was time that he made things clear to her. It was time he let her know how much he cared for and trusted her.

  “Excuse me, Layla,” Peter said gently, slipping behind her.

  She turned to him as she made room for him to pass. “Of course.”

  He left them reluctantly. He knew Jacob was doing his utmost to win Layla over while he was gone. Still, it was time for him to take the next step. It was time to do something that truly showed his commitment to her future in Richstone.

  “Layla, mind the saloon for a bit. I need to go to the sheriff’s office.” Peter looked back at the pretty face he’d grown accustomed to seeing every day. She had such a gentle appearance that it brought peace to him whenever he saw her. He couldn’t bear it if she were to leave. He had to make sure that didn’t happen. There was only one way.

  She nodded. “Sure, Peter. Take your time.”

  He left the saloon in a rush and marched to the sheriff’s office with purpose. He had decided.

  “Bill,” Peter greeted his friend as he entered the office and found the sheriff seated at their shared desk.

  “Pete? What’re you doing here? You have the day off,” Bill pointed out. His brow furrowed slightly, but his demeanor was otherwise unchanged.

  Peter walked up to the desk and faced the older man. “Do you still need a sheriff?” he asked unceremoniously.

  Bill blinked several times as he stared at him. “Yes, I do. Do you know anyone who would be fit for the job?”

  “One man comes to mind,” Peter replied.

  A small smile began to tug at the corners of Bill’s mouth. “And who would this man be?” he asked coyly.

  “You know who,” Peter replied.

  Bill nodded. “But I wanna hear you say it.”

  “Me,” Peter replied with a chuckle. “I’m the best man for the job.”

  Bill leaned back in his chair and folded his arms lazily behind his head. “And what made you come to this idea?”

  “Other than the fact that you’ve told me so almost every day since you decided to retire?” Peter teased.

  Bill nodded. “Yes. I’m curious to know what finally made you choose to take the job. I pushed you for a long time and you wouldn’t budge. What finally got to you?”

  Peter stilled. He didn’t want to admit it was Layla, but he knew if he lied Bill would see right through it. He took a deep breath and smiled. “I think you know.”

  Bill’s smile grew. “I think it’s because of a pretty little lady who works behind the bar at your saloon,” he replied. He cocked an eyebrow in Peter’s direction. “Am I right?”

  “You know you are.” Peter exhaled a long breath and felt the tension Jacob McCarthy caused finally leave his body. He walked around the desk to his chair and took a seat. Bill leaned forward on his elbows and folded his hands in front of him as he looked over his knuckles.

  “Tell me everything,” Bill demanded gently.

  “I watch her working every day, and I see how devoted and meticulous she is. She puts her all into what she does,” he explained. “Then, I see Jacob coming around her, and it gets under my skin. He’s trying his best to win her back, to trick her into running back to the life she left.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe it’s Layla…”

  “No,” Peter denied emphatically. He could feel a hint of annoyance well up inside him at the thought. “Layla is going to divorce him. She just wants to do it on her own, and it will take a little while to get the money together.”

  “And she won’t let you help her?”

  Peter shook his head. “She wants to do this on her own. She doesn’t think it would be right, and I appreciate that. I have made no commitment to her, and she is still another man’s wife. She doesn’t want people to talk.”

  Bill nodded in agreement. “So, why now? Why the change?”

  “I realized I need to do something to stop her from falling into Jacob’s trap. If I don’t want her to be coerced by him and his lies, I need to show her how much I care. I have to show her how much confidence I have in her. I need to make a bold step for her, and for myself.”

  He sighed. “It’s time I moved away from the past. I’ve worried so much about the saloon because it was Celia’s dream, but now I think I can put it in the hands of someone who will look after it the way she would have wanted.”

  “Layla?”

  Peter nodded. “She has everything a good manager needs. Everything except the title and responsibility. I can devote myself here, and she can take over things there. It’s perfect!”

  “Then she can see how committed you are to her success here, and she won’t be persuaded by Jacob,” Bill put in with a smile. “You’re really sure about this girl?”

  “Completely. She’s had a hard life, but I know it will only get better for her here.”

  “You don’t want her to leave,” Bill added.

  Peter folded his hands in frustration. “Bill, I hear him telling her things to persuade her. Things that sound good, but they make my stomach sick. I know he’s up to no good.”

  “He hasn’t
done anything yet.”

  Peter looked his friend in the eye. “We may not have anything on him now, but I’m sure we will. He’s up to no good. I can feel it.”

  “One of your feelings? Or is this because he wants the same woman you do?” Bill questioned.

  “I know it,” Peter insisted. “Bill, it’s so strong that I can touch it. I just don’t know what it is I’m supposed to look for.”

  Bill exhaled. “I trust your feelings, Peter. They’ve never been wrong, and if you have a feeling about this man, then I’m sure there is something for us to find. Remember what I told you, we have to wait to find it. You can’t follow the man all day and hope for something to fall into your lap.”