by Ava Frost
Why couldn’t he take the chance and bare his soul to her? If she truly loved him as much as she often told him she did, then it was possible she’d understand. But then, he didn’t want to hurt her, either. And why must he keep torturing himself about it? That was what confused him most.
Maybe he needed to have more faith in his wife and in the Lord. The realization came to him in an instant. Yes, that’s what was lacking.
Okay, Lord. You’ve convinced me. I’ll tell her when I get home. Please give me the strength to do this. Thank You, Lord. Amen.
In an instant he felt relieved, his heart lighter than it had been since he’d first seen Louise at the train station. Something in his mind tried to tell him she would be upset and his marriage would be over, but he refused to believe it. His trust in the Lord had been restored, and it pushed the thought aside like a horse’s tail swats at flies.
He found his thoughts turning toward Dylan and how much he adored the boy. Yes, as impossible as it seemed, it was true. If the child had been conceived from Daniel’s own flesh, he couldn’t have loved him more.
Remembering a moment four weeks after his wedding, a wide grin came upon him. He’d brought Dylan to the Sheriff’s Office one morning while Louise was at the market gathering provisions.
The boy had looked up at Bill with a serious expression. “My Mama is married to the Deputy.” The Sheriff nodded politely. “Today is my birthday, and I want to ask you something. Do I have to stay Dylan Parker, or can I be Dylan Barstow now?”
Daniel had felt as though his heart had been struck by lightning. This angelic child was declaring how much he adored his stepfather.
After a moment of apparent deep consideration Bill answered him. “I suppose that would be up to you, young man.”
The reply was immediate. “I want to be Dylan Barstow.”
“Okay, then. Why don’t we make it official?” The Sheriff found a piece of paper and began to write on it. When he was done, he read it aloud to the boy. “On this thirteenth day of March, 1885, be it set forth by this decree that Dylan Parker shall now and forever be known as Dylan Barstow, son of Deputy Daniel Barstow of Lonely Souls, Texas. Signed by Sheriff William Carson.”
When he’d handed the paper to the boy, Daniel could barely see through the tears streaming down his cheeks. The next thing he knew, Dylan had wrapped his arms around his waist and was looking up at him.
“Now you really are my Dad. Sheriff Bill says it’s official.”
*******
Several minutes had passed, and with the memory of the tender moment still fading, Daniel’s mind brought forth a much older, yet somewhat similar, situation from when he’d been only ten years old. But he quickly swept it away. It was too painful—and it was the thing that started the trouble he now found himself in.
Already planning how he would tell Louise the secret that had been weighing on his heart, he turned his horse onto the rutted dirt road that led to his home and noticed something wasn’t right. Why were the chickens not wandering around the front porch pecking the ground like they usually did at this time of day? And why did it seem so eerily quiet? Where were Dylan and Speckles? The boy and his dog always came running to greet him when they heard his stallion trotting up to the house.
Something was wrong, and he was more than unsettled. He couldn’t stop the panic from setting in. Did something happen to his new family? If so, what was it and where were they? There was only one way to know for sure.
He dismounted in an instant and wrapped the horse’s reins around one of the porch posts, then ran up the steps and through the door. Stopping only a step inside, he let his hearing guide him. Nothing. Not even a whisper of a breeze coming in the open windows. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he felt certain his wife and son were in danger—and he had to get to the kitchen.
Having spent his entire twenty six years of life in this house, he knew all the tiny quirks and where they were. He’d learned which floorboards would complain when stepped on and the exact sound each one would make.
Daniel used this knowledge to move quietly past the entryway toward the one place he wasn’t sure he wanted to go at the moment. A vision of his family and pet lying bloody and lifeless on the floor came flooding into his brain. He forced it away as fast as it had invaded his mind. Thoughts like that could cause him to make a mistake and the situation would be out of his control. He couldn’t take the chance.
Only two yards remained between him and the kitchen door, but a noise made him stop cold. It was the sound of someone rising from a chair. Footsteps followed, heading his way. A man’s heavy boots, and they sounded exactly like…
No. It couldn’t be who he immediately thought of. But he knew it must be. No other man he knew wore boots as heavy as those. Why was he here now? He wasn’t due to show up for at least another two months.
“I know you’re there, Daniel. I heard you on the porch just a minute ago. Come on in and join us.”
His suspicion was confirmed. Donald Branson, the cattle thief, was in his home.
Chapter 6
Louise had no idea who this man was. He’d come walking into the house as though he’d lived there all his life. To make matters worse, he’d accused her and Dylan of being the intruders, then tied them to the kitchen chairs and gagged them. She’d tried to fight back and even let out a hearty scream, but he’d flashed an immense knife at her. The thing looked like he could use it to slaughter a large animal.
Driven more by a fear for her son’s safety than for her own, she had complied with the man and allowed him to bind her and Dylan to the chairs. The moment he’d finished the task, he’d swung his foot and kicked Speckles to mute the dog’s incessant barking. She couldn’t be sure where he’d taken the loyal pet, though she assumed he’d carried him out to the barn.
In an apparent attempt at bravery, Dylan had shouted threats at the man the moment he’d come back into the house.
“When my Dad gets home and unties me, I’m going to punch you in the nose! He’s the Deputy, and he will take you to jail!” There had been an odd strain in the child’s voice, most likely caused by his fear of the man.
“Hush, Dylan. Don’t say such things. You’ll only make him more angry.” She’d tried not to show her own panic, but wasn’t convinced she’d hid it well.
“Yes, boy. Listen to your mother.” He’d grabbed a dishtowel, walked toward her son, and fastened it over the child’s mouth and head. “And I don’t believe the Deputy has any kids. Especially not such an unruly one as you.”
She’d wanted to rant at the man for insulting her boy. How dare he say such a thing about her good child? But she’d held it in with every bit of energy she could muster. Once she’d calmed herself down a little, she’d tried to explain to the man that Dylan wasn’t the wild child he’d claimed.
“Sir, he’s just scared and confused, as I must admit I am also.”
He’d stopped her before she could continue. “No, ma’am. I refuse to let you try and convince me you two belong here.” Then he’d used another dishtowel to gag her. “Now, we’ll be patient and wait for Daniel to get home. I think you and your brat will be the ones going to jail.”
She wasn’t sure how long they’d sat there in silence, though it had seemed like hours. But one thing stayed on her mind. How did this man know Daniel? She’d noticed that the intruder’s hair seemed to be the same as Daniel’s, though it was noticeably longer. Even his eyes looked like her husband’s. The only real differences she could note were that this man was thinner and his face was covered in stubble as though he hadn’t shaved in a week or two. Could it be possible they were related somehow? Were they cousins, maybe?
Finally, the sound of Daniel’s footsteps on the porch told her he’d returned and everything was going to be okay once again. But then the silence returned and it lasted too long. He should have come into the kitchen in less than a minute to see what she was cooking for supper. Had he even come inside to see why Dylan and Speckles h
adn’t greeted him?
Then the man stood up as if he knew something she didn’t, took a few steps toward the door, and invited Daniel to enter the room.
*******
He’d hoped to tell Louise about Donald this evening so she could be prepared when he dropped by in a couple months. But now it seemed the rustler—and the Lord—had made other arrangements.
Lord, I had my plans, but Your way is always better. All I ask now is that You help me get through this in a peaceful way. Thank You, Lord. Amen.
Daniel took a deep breath and felt it fortify him for the confrontation he was certain would soon take place in his kitchen. He only hoped there wouldn’t be any physical fighting. How would he live with himself if he ever caused great harm to the man he was about to face? He didn’t want to know the answer to that question.
Straightening his spine, he took the final few steps toward the door and turned to enter the room. Donald was standing on the other side, blocking his entrance. The man’s expression was as if he’d just caught the fox that had been raiding the henhouse.
“What do you want, Donald?” Though he tried, he couldn’t keep the anxiety from coming through.
“I caught some criminals who seem to think they belong here.” The righteous grin on the man’s face summoned a sick feeling in Daniel’s stomach.
“What are you talking about?” Then it struck him what was happening here. “What have you done with my wife and son?”
Donald’s face slackened and his body slumped. Daniel knew he’d shocked the man with his last question.
“Get out of my way.” He stepped forward and pushed the cattle rustler aside.
The sight of his family strapped to the chairs and gagged made him simultaneously want to vomit and punch Donald’s nose. But his concern for Louise and Dylan forced him to push those impulses aside. He rushed to the boy, untied him and removed his gag, then did the same for his wife.
“That man kicked Speckles, Dad. He made me mad and I want to punch him.” Dylan’s words made it seem as if Donald had committed the worst crime known to mankind.
Once the three of them were standing, Daniel pulled the boy and his mother into a strong embrace. “Nobody is going to do any punching today.” He kissed the top of Dylan’s head and pressed him even closer to his torso.
Turning to behold his wife’s lovely face, he couldn’t keep the repentance from showing on his own. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been wanting to tell you about something, but this isn’t the way I thought it would be.”
Her expression contorted into one of confusion. “What do you mean, Daniel?” Then understanding seemed to dawn on her. “It has something to do with this man, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does. I’ll tell you in a minute.” He turned back to the boy, letting his arm relax from around him. “Son, go see if you can find Speckles and play for a while.”
“The dog is in the barn.” Donald’s voice came from behind. Daniel turned to see the man seated in the only chair that had been pulled to the other side of the room. He assumed the man must have been sitting there earlier while waiting for him to come home.
Dylan rushed out the back door. “I’m coming, Speckles. Don’t be scared.”
Turning back to his wife, Daniel placed a gentle kiss on her cheek and pondered the best way to tell her what she needed to know. However, she initiated the discussion before he could decide.
“You know this man, don’t you? He’s related to you somehow, isn’t he?” Her words weren’t edged with the irritation he’d expected. Instead, curiosity was all he could detect.
It was clear she’d noticed the resemblance. There was only one answer he could give. “Yes, I know him. He’s my brother. To be accurate, we’re twins.”
Chapter 7
She was surprised at his story, but when he was done she couldn’t be angry with him. He’d felt so betrayed by his brother’s decision for too long. Sitting there listening to him, the thing that amazed her the most was the fact that he was able to keep the secret for all those years.
So far, she’d learned that Daniel and Donald were eight years old when their father, Henry Barstow, had been shot and killed by Charles Branson, an infamous cattle rustler. Henry had been trying to help his neighbor, Martin Jessup, repair some fencing when Branson decided he wanted to steal some of the cows they were trying to protect. Not long afterward, the outlaw married their mother. To Daniel’s great distress, his twin developed an affinity for their stepfather, took the man’s last name when they were ten years old, and joined his gang of thieves when Donald was only thirteen.
Kneeling in front of her, he continued. “Mama had died from pneumonia just a few months earlier, so I was here all by myself.” He took a breath and wiped a tear from his eye. “That’s when I decided to become a lawman and try to stop the violence going on here in our little town.”
“That must have been a hard decision for you to make at such a young age.” She was happy to hear the compassion come through as she’d intended.
“Yes, it was. Especially when Martin shot Henry three years later while he was trying to steal a few of Martin’s cows.” Daniel shook his head. “It seemed like justice to me, but I couldn’t see it as being proper. The man should have been locked in a jail cell for the rest of his life. I thought the problem of cattle rustling was solved, but I soon found out Donald had become the new leader of the gang.”
She allowed him a few seconds to take several deep breaths and collect his thoughts before he continued his tale.
“A year later, when I was seventeen, Sheriff Carson made me a Junior Deputy. I guess I must have impressed him, because he made me a full Deputy when I turned twenty.”
Something niggled at her brain, and she had to get him to explain it to her.
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m curious how you knew Charles Branson murdered your father.”
“It was the last thing he ever said to me. ‘Boy, do you wanna know who killed your daddy? It was me. I did it, and I don’t feel the least bit sorry for it either.’ I’ll never forget those words.”
“He never said such a thing!” Donald’s outburst caught her by surprise. She’d almost forgotten he was still in the room.
Daniel seemed to be just as shocked to hear his brother speak. He turned to face Donald. “Yes, he did. Don’t you remember? He took me aside just before the two of you left me here. You were up on the horse waiting for him. That’s when he told me what he’d done.”
Donald fell silent again and Daniel returned his attention to her. “Not long after I was deputized, old Martin Jessup died peacefully in his sleep, and his youngest son, Larry, now owns the cattle ranch. But the worst part of all this—the part that I can’t tell anyone—is that I made a deal with my brother. Yes, the lawman made a pact with an outlaw.”
He took a breath and must have seen the confused astonishment she tried to hide. “I promised him that he and his gang could hide out in the shack Charles had built in the woods behind here and I wouldn’t tell anyone where they were. In return, Donald agreed not to go near Larry’s place to take any of his cattle.” Daniel fixed his eyes on hers. “So you can see why I can’t tell anyone about this. I could go to jail for what I’ve done.” His head fell forward until his chin came to rest on his chest and he began to sob. “I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t blame you if you want to leave me now. It’s what I deserve for the terrible thing I’ve done.”
She placed her hands on his cheeks and lifted his face to hers. “I’m not going to leave you, Daniel. You are my whole world and Dylan loves you as if you were his natural father. I refuse to take him away from the happiest place he’s ever been. We’re staying here. But you must tell the Sheriff and the entire town what you’ve just told me. I’ll be proud to stand by your side through whatever happens.”
Amazement and utter joy were written all over his features, but they were soon replaced by doubt. “If I tell them, I could go to jail for a long time. How would you and Dylan su
rvive that?”
A wide grin forced its way onto her lips. “I doubt anyone would be very upset with you. The way it seems to me is that you were protecting your neighbors. How could anyone blame you for doing what you thought best to keep them safe from harm?”
He seemed to consider her words carefully. “It never occurred to me to think about it that way. But I admit it makes sense. And that was my true motivation for doing it.”
“You can explain it to the Sheriff when you bring me and my guys in.” Donald’s voice surprised her once again. His words had scarcely ended when she saw Daniel’s head swinging around so fast she thought his neck would break.
“That’s what I came here to tell you, Deputy brother. I’m tired of living this way and the other men are getting too old to keep it up much longer. We all agreed a long stay in a jail cell seems like a better way to live than being out in the wilderness alone.” He took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “You are the only one we feel comfortable with handing us over to face justice. It seems you made a good decision on both sides. Not only did you keep your neighbors safe from us, but you gave us shelter when we needed it. You’re a good man, Deputy Barstow, my brother. A truly good man.”
*******
Christmas had always been Louise’s favorite time of the year. The joy and merriment of the season seemed contagious and everyone she met appeared as though they’d caught the infection. Seated in her favorite chair in the parlor, she thought of how this year held a special meaning for her. She had a new husband whom she was deeply in love with and Dylan also adored. But there was much more for her to celebrate.
Six months earlier, Daniel had brought Donald and his gang to the Sheriff and turned them in. He’d explained to Bill what he’d been keeping to himself for so many years. Daniel had insisted on being locked up in the cell next to the outlaws until church services on Sunday, after which he told his story once again to the entire town.
