The Cowboy's Miracle

by Penelope Marzec

  While she shouldn’t trust him, she did. It wasn’t due to his handsome face, his broad shoulders, his delectable kiss, his hard right hook to the bad guy’s jaw, or the way he strummed a guitar. It took her a while to sort it out, but once her mind processed the facts, everything made sense.

  Grammy’s DNA ran in his veins—not the Grammy of today, of course, but the woman who gathered an orphan under her wing fifteen years ago. Grammy completed whatever needed doing—until her husband’s death. If all the world was a stage, Gramps enjoyed playing every part. But the real work of any stage play went on behind the scenes, and that was Grammy’s forte. She manned the curtain, turned on the lights, fed the crew, made sure appropriate music was ready, and even tuned up the instruments if need be.

  As much as Gabriella loved Gramps, his world was one of words. Grammy’s world was one of activity. Seth was a man who got things done. Yes, he was a rodeo star and basked in the spotlight every now and then, but for the most part, he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty and pitch in.

  On the way home, they stopped at the animal control facility to visit Harley and treat him with grapes. It broke her heart when he cried. Again, Seth talked with the officer about the alpaca’s condition and treatment.

  By the time they returned to the farm, her crew was sitting around the table in the greenhouse, eating lunch.

  “Would you like to join them?” Gabriella asked.

  “If you don’t mind, I need to take a nap.” Seth yawned.

  “Didn’t the coffee work?” She asked.

  “It’s no match for the surgeon’s loopy dream gas.”

  “Then enjoy your rest. We’ll talk more later.”

  He went off to the guesthouse.

  She sat with Piotr, Greg, and Juanita.

  “Man, I wish I had seen him knock that guy out. Bam!” Greg swung his fist to the left.

  “Broken fist no good.” Piotr shook his head. “Better to fix the car.”

  “What do you mean?” Greg asked.

  “He no get far if you fix the car.” Piotr gestured with both hands. “Add water to gas tank, put holes in tires, take off hubcap and loosen nuts, put firecracker in muffler—”

  “Wow!” Greg stared at the older man with renewed respect. “Where’d you learn this stuff?”

  “Common knowledge in Russia.” Piotr shrugged.

  “Remind me not to visit Russia,” Juanita said.

  “Since the guy came at Seth with a rake, he was forced to defend himself,” Gabriella pointed out. “If I knew about all those tricks, though, I would have used them.”

  “I’m glad that wicked man is locked up,” Juanita put in. “It’s scary to think he intended to deliberately hurt the animals and anyone who tried to stop him. Nothing like this has ever happened in Greenburg.”

  “Yes, and it worries me.” Gabriella found it difficult to believe someone would travel across the country simply to harass anyone living on a farm belonging to the parents of the man who duped them into an investment. Someone who would go to such extremes was mentally off. She swallowed hard. Who could guess what an unhinged maniac would do next?

  * * *

  Seth lay on the bed in the guesthouse and propped his injured hand up on pillows. It continued to throb, making rest impossible. If he swallowed more of the loopy dream drugs, he would be plagued with nightmares. He suffered a doozy early in the morning involving the Buffaloes’ sweatshirt, his father, his horse, and Gabriella’s barn. He woke up screaming. The nurses in the hospital did not appreciate it.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the memory of the dream, but it did no good. He dug the cell phone out of his pocket and idly went through his email messages. Afterward, he checked the big news stories of the day.

  He happened to notice an ad for a dental practice, which reminded him of Marshall. He would be more than willing to break another knuckle if that sleazy guy bothered Gabriella anymore. He was relieved she refused the man’s diamond. However, it seemed odd that the dentist wanted to marry her but abhorred the touch of her scarred hands. Marshall’s behavior made no sense at all.

  Seth decided to check into the dentist’s past history—especially since the man went through so much trouble to probe into his. It would be delightful to discover some indiscretion in the dentist’s earlier years.

  He got his laptop and walked over to the house to use Gabriella’s high speed Wifi. She was still out in the greenhouse with her crew, but the back door of the house was unlocked. He would mention it to her later. Under the circumstances, she should lock everything all the time.

  He made a pot of coffee, with one hand, and set to work digging for anything available on Marshall. The dentist worked at a large practice with three other dentists in a town west of Greenburg. Marshall personally received three ratings on a business site—a one-star review and two three star reviews. The one-star review was for his nasty behavior toward the hygienist. Otherwise, Marshall’s social media page was plastered with various images of smiles. His profile on a dating site was equally devoid of information—as well as contacts, which didn’t surprise Seth in the least.

  After a second cup of coffee, and a deduction from his credit card, Seth peered at one fact he would never have imagined. Marshall received his bachelor’s degree at Colorado University, Boulder, home of the Buffaloes.

  Maybe it was a lack of food or too much caffeine, but suddenly, Seth’s apprehensions mushroomed and he broke out in a cold sweat. The sweatshirt the raccoon used for its nest could have belonged to Marshall. Though it might belong to the intruder who now sat in the local jail with a swollen jaw. Only the raccoon might know the answer.

  He called Flint but when Flint didn’t answer, he left a message.

  Seth remembered he was supposed to be working for Gabriella. He put the laptop away and went to the greenhouse.

  “Didn’t you get any rest?” She asked.

  “No,” he confessed. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Nothing,” she replied. “You’re not supposed to use your right hand.”

  “The left one works.”

  “You’re in pain.”

  “I’ve fallen off a lot of horses. Pain is nothing new.”

  Juanita, who stood at a potting bench, chuckled.

  “Don’t try to be macho with me.” Gabriella’s eyes bored into Seth’s face.

  He smiled. “You have bits of gold in your irises.”

  She blinked. “No I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do. I’ve seen lots of cats with gold eyes, but they have elliptical pupils, of course.”

  “Are you saying I have cat’s eyes?”

  “No, you’re not a cat, but the gold is nice.” He gave her a grin and was delighted when she responded with a slow smile of her own and a blush on her cheeks. If Juanita wasn’t there, he would have attempted to kiss Gabriella again.

  Greg and Piotr appeared with two garden carts full of Christmas lights.

  “Where should we start?” Piotr asked.

  “First, we’ll wrap the columns on the front porch,” Gabriella said.

  “Do I get overtime for this?” Greg whined.

  “You’d have to work more than forty hours a week, which you don’t,” Juanita put in.

  “How am I ever going to get a car?” Greg fussed.

  “Welcome to real world.” Piotr laughed.

  “Will you teach me how to ride a bucking bronc?” Greg asked Seth.

  “Not unless you belong to a spectacular health insurance program,” Seth stated with a heavy touch of gravity in his voice.

  “I’ve got strong bones. I’ve never broken any of them,” Greg boasted.

  Seth shook his head. “You will if you try the rodeo.”

  They spent a few hours stringing up Christmas lights. Seth insisted on helping. He unwound the tangled strings and handed them to Greg and Piotr. Gabriella directed the operation as if she had a baton in her hand.

  Seth stood back and admired the job when t
hey finished. “Now it feels like Christmas.”

  “Not quite. Tomorrow, we decorate the carriage house,” Gabriella said.

  “You have more lights?” Seth asked.

  Piotr and Greg groaned in unison.

  “She has us drape them on the hedges coming up the drive, too.” Greg sighed. “This farm looks like Times Square when we’re done.”

  “It makes the place easy to find.” A satisfied light came into her eyes. Her natural beauty started Seth’s pulse pounding. He wouldn’t mind holding her again, even with only one operational hand.

  Seth’s phone rang. He excused himself and walked toward the guesthouse.

  “The guy who is now in jail was the dentist’s roommate in college for a while until he dropped out,” Flint said. “He moved to New Jersey a year ago and got a job with a landscaping firm—the one taking care of the lawn at the dental practice.”

  “Old friends.” Small world, thought Seth.

  “Seems so,” Flint agreed. “One of my contacts found the angry investor who boasted about getting his revenge.”

  Seth stiffened. “Where is he?”

  “He went to Florida for a vacation and died of a heart attack a month ago.”

  Seth blew out a long, slow breath, relieved there was one less angry investor after his hide. “Do you think the dentist encouraged his former roommate to poison the animals?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “Maybe I should talk to the dentist.”

  “You ought to wait until your right hand is in working order,” Flint warned.

  “Did I ever tell you you’re a level-headed guy?”

  “No, you told me I was pigheaded and should stop riding bulls.”

  “Have you listened to my advice?”

  “I’ll give it some thought.”

  They talked for several more minutes before they ended the call. By that time, Piotr, Greg, and Juanita were pulling out of the driveway and headed home.

  “I’m hitting the hay early tonight.” Seth yawned when Gabriella asked him if he’d like something to eat.

  “At least take a sandwich with you,” she insisted and handed one to him.

  “Lock all the doors.” He shuffled to the guesthouse. His hand still hurt. He chose an ordinary, non-narcotic analgesic for the pain. Life was crazy enough. He didn’t need vivid hallucinations.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gabriella labored over her accounts for a few hours until her eyes drooped. Deciding to call it a night, she went to turn off the lights in the kitchen and noticed Seth’s hat hanging on the hook by the back door. If he left it there, he really was exhausted. Poor guy.

  He shouldn’t have helped hang up the Christmas lights, but he insisted—and he sure was one stubborn cowboy. She lifted the hat off the hook and placed it on her own head. Could she be a cowgirl? She giggled at the thought and ran her fingers around the rim of the hat.

  She admitted she would enjoy another kiss from her cowboy.

  “My, my. You’re living dangerously,” she muttered, hanging up the hat.

  She turned to leave the room and froze.

  Marshall stood in the dimly lit hallway dressed in black—from his knitted cap right down to his three-hundred-dollar mud boots. “Yes, you have been taking chances, but that’s over now.”

  “I don’t recall hearing the front door bell.” She clenched her teeth as fury warred with a spurt of panic.

  “You didn’t. I had a key made.” His hard, cold-eyed smile did nothing to alleviate her fear. He stepped out of the hall into the light of the kitchen, holding a gun. “You are coming with me. If you are difficult, I will administer sedation.”

  “Then you would have to carry me.” She crossed her arms in an attempt to halt the trembling in her body.

  “I planned for that exigency.” Another man, taller and more muscular than Marshall, stepped into the kitchen.

  Gabriella’s throat closed up. She could barely breathe. If she managed a scream, would Seth hear her? She swallowed with difficulty. “Where are you taking me?”

  “On a honeymoon.”

  Lightheaded with dread, she leaned against the counter. Lord, help me. “You don’t love me.”

  “No, but the value of your property entices me.”

  “It won’t be mine until Grammy dies.”

  “A small problem, which is easily resolved.”

  He intended to murder Grammy. Once the assets were in Gabriella’s hands, he might kill her, too.

  “You can’t make me marry you. A marriage requires consent.”

  “There are useful drugs available to aid in certain matters. However, I am offering you a reasonable alternative. You agree to our wedding or I kill the cowboy.”

  Ice twisted around her heart, but she refused to give in to her alarm. “Where is he?”

  “Sleeping very soundly in the guesthouse. There’s a leak in the gas fireplace. If you come willingly, I turn off the gas. Otherwise…”

  Though sick with terror, she must get help. “I’ll go pack a suitcase.”

  “If we delay, your cowboy will die.”

  Numb, she nodded. “If you open the windows in the guesthouse and turn off the gas I won’t give you any trouble.”

  His dark, triumphant laugh angered her. How could she have been so mistaken in assessing his character?

  “Why don’t you simply rob me?” She lifted her chin and glared at him in defiance.

  “I don’t want a few trinkets. I intend to obtain it all. Now, let’s get going.”

  His henchman tossed her coat to her—not the fur but the well-worn, all-weather jacket. She shrugged into it and stepped out of the door.

  Marshall poked the gun into the small of her back. His companion turned off the lights and locked the door.

  “To the guesthouse,” Marshall ordered.

  They walked across the drive. Marshall’s assistant turned the outside shutoff valve to stop the flow of gas, but she didn’t have any idea when they turned the gas on. Tears welled in her eyes. What if Seth was already dead?

  She thought of his gentleness, kindness, and bravery. The memory of his kiss would be with her forever. She steeled herself to hold back her grief. Her mind whirled with daring ideas of escape. Marshall wouldn’t kill her until her estate was in his grasp, but she didn’t doubt he would enjoy making her suffer. If she distracted her captors or waited until their attention waned, she stood a chance of breaking away.

  Marshall directed her to walk along the narrow alley between the barn and the guesthouse where all the snow had melted. “It’s due to rain heavily in an hour or so, any trace of our nighttime elopement will be washed away.”

  Clouds obliterated the moonlight and Gabriella stepped carefully as they moved down the slope toward the creek. Over the years, she had hired men to clean away the underbrush and fallen trees on her side of the water. It made a nice backdrop for wedding photos, but it offered no cover from men with guns.

  She hesitated when Marshall nudged her at the edge of the swift flowing stream.

  From somewhere on her left, she heard an odd sound—like a repeating whoosh. Was that a huge bird? Stark terror gripped her. What night creatures lurked in the woods? Would her body become a meal for a vulture?

  “Go, or I’ll put a hole in your feet.” He prodded her again with his gun.

  She stepped into the icy water. Shocked by the frigid temperature, she let out a cry.

  Immediately, a bright light flashed from the opposite bank, blinding and disorienting her. She lost her balance and fell into the frigid brook. Marshall spat out harsh curses as gunfire erupted and more shouts echoed in the night.

  She fought to claw her way out of the glacial, fast-running stream, but her limbs grew weak as the temperature immobilized her movements. Panicked and gasping for air, she struggled to get out of the water, but her sense of direction was all mixed up and she didn’t have any idea which way led out of the icy stream.

  “Gabby!” The wondrous
sound of Seth’s voice came to her ears and she thought she might be in heaven. Strong arms lifted her toward the sky, out of the water, onto a warm, hairy horse where she leaned back against a familiar chest.

  “Not…heaven,” she whispered through her frozen lips.

  “Nope, cheated death again.” Seth kissed her and life flowed into her once more.

  * * *

  Three days later, Seth pulled the trigger of a cookie press onto a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. A blob of green dough came out. “My right hand has better aim.”

  “The cookie is fine.” Gabriella chopped up cherries.

  “It doesn’t look like a wreath.” He peered at the dough. “It looks like a flower without a center.”

  “These bits of cherries are going to be bows, and once I add sprinkles, they’ll be beautiful.” Her brow clouded. “How did you know what Marshall would do?”

  “Flint’s wife works in the same dental office and there were discrepancies in the finances which were being investigated. Marshall suspected they were onto him. He embezzled a huge sum of money over the years.” Seth pulled the trigger again. Another blob of dough appeared on the cookie sheet. “How many of these are we making?”

  “We’re only making one batch for Grammy. I can’t hand her store-bought cookies. She’d have a conniption.” She set the chopped up cherries aside and her lip quivered. “Marshall intended to murder Grammy and probably me, too.”

  Seth’s throat tightened. Thinking of how close he had come to losing her still sent a cold chill up his spine. “He wanted to get me out of the way first. Good thing I put those pillows under the blankets. He thought I was asleep when he turned on the gas.” Slowly and methodically, he filled up the cookie sheet.

  “My parents died when the restaurant exploded from a gas leak. I was outside in the yard. I don’t remember anything. I panicked, evidently. One of the neighbors said I ran to the door and opened it and that’s how my hands were burned. The neighbor pulled me away.” Tired sadness settled into her features. “Marshall told me I should be grateful he went out with me because nobody else would have me. After all, the moment most men saw my hands, they backed away.”