Learning to Love (Cowboys and Angels Book 21)

by Jo Noelle

  When he arrived at the cabin, he called out to KC, who was unsaddling his horse. “Got a minute to talk?”

  KC turned and waved. “Didn’t I just see you in town?” He slung his saddle over the fence beside him. “I’ll be back soon. You didn’t have to ride all the way up here.”

  “The ride was good for me. Did you work all night?” Bernard asked. “Have we got a problem in our town?”

  “Always.” KC smiled broadly. “I don’t know what to make of this one. Asa Young came by the office yesterday.”

  “He’s the foreman at the Mother Lode Mine, right?”

  “Yeah. He said he was surveying an old mine shaft that hadn’t been used in years and found some new digging going on. He wanted me to look it over. It does seem like suspicious activity, but there’s not enough to go on yet. I’ll just have to keep my eye on it.” KC picked up the saddle and tack and walked to the barn. “You came all this way for something. What can I do for you?”

  Bernard noticed Eliza coming toward them, her gait somewhat of a waddle. They’d have a new family member soon.

  “I wondered if you and your wife would have dinner with me and Clara. Now that we’re married, I’d like us to start doing things together, and I’d like to get to know her friends.”

  “We’d love to. Eliza was sure happy to hear about your marriage,” KC said as Eliza arrived.

  “Clara’s a wonderful woman,” Eliza added. “I wasn’t in the cellar with her for more than a few minutes, and we didn’t meet there, but I know from Julianne that Clara was the one who kept the peace. She had a level head and welcomed Julianne, orienting her and making her feel more comfortable in a place that was little more than a grave. It was a stressful situation, but Clara could show love even then.” Eliza’s voice became soft and reverent. “She saved my life that day. She could have run off as soon as the door was opened, but she didn’t. She fought for me.”

  Bernard could see tears filling Eliza’s eyes as she nodded.

  “I’m taking Eliza to the theater tonight and staying over at Hearth and Home before we go back up the mountain,” KC said, changing the subject. “We could have dinner before that. Or would another night be better?”

  There was no doubt that Eliza shouldn’t be out in winter weather too long in her condition. “Tonight will be fine. Come by the law office when you get to town. We’ll be ready.”

  KC pointed over his shoulder toward the cabin. “Do you want to come in?”

  “No. I’m not going to keep you from your bed.” Bernard remounted his horse and rode back to Creede. Along the way, he thought about the questions he wanted to ask his wife. He realized that he’d have to be prepared to answer the same ones about himself.

  He’d been running away from his family and wandering away from his past for many years. It was time he faced it. He’d never married before, not wanting to bring a woman or children into that nightmare. Clara should know the truth. Then, if she didn’t want to be involved with him, he’d get an annulment and help her set up her life any way she wanted.

  When he got back to Hearth and Home, he met with client after client, and Clara was holed up in the kitchen preserving apple butter with Millie.

  At the end of the day, Bernard held her coat while she put her arms in and spoke over her shoulder as she buttoned the front. “I thought we could go over to Graham’s Grub and get a little dinner and spend some time with KC and Eliza.”

  “They’ll be there?” she looked at him and smiled. “I’d like that.”

  “I talked with KC. They’re coming. I thought it would be a nice surprise for you. After dinner, they’re going to see the play we saw.”

  Clara flung her arms around Bernard for a hug. “I love it.”

  For a split second, he’d thought she might say, “I love you.” He knew he hadn’t earned that yet, but he was working on it. He took her hand and gently wrapped it around his arm.

  As they walked home, the Murrays drove up the road.

  “We’ll be right there,” Bernard called out, waving at them. The restaurant was on the other side of the bank, and by the time Bernard and Clara arrived, KC had settled their carriage and helped his wife down.

  Both couples sat at a table near the corner of the room. The server gave them biscuits and left to pick up their meals.

  From the corner of his eye, Bernard noticed a shock of silver hair on a younger man who entered the restaurant. It was as if his past had slapped him in the head so he’d pay attention. He hoped it wasn’t Jess Porter, up from Arizona, but if it was, that meant bad news for him. Jess scouted out a new area for a crime. Bernard looked to his left and watched as the man walked to a table and sat down. If he could see the man’s hands, he’d know for sure if it was him.

  The stranger turned his chair just enough that Bernard could see his profile. He’d know the white-gray hair and sandy brown beard even in his sleep. What was Jess Porter doing in Creede? He wanted to run him out of town now, but he didn’t want to draw attention to his wife by approaching the man. If it were just him and KC at dinner, he would. Hopefully, Jess hadn’t seen him.

  At that moment, the man’s head lifted up, and their eyes met. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize Bernard. But he’d been told a hundred times growing up that he was the spitting image of his pa—Jess would know him. He knew that was true by the way the man’s eyes widened in surprise and then stared at him. Bernard’s blood froze like snow blowing through his veins. Neither of them smiled or even tipped their heads in greeting. It was understood by both of them that nothing good could come of their meeting.

  Ice melted and boiled as he saw Jess eyeballing the group. Bernard hoped Jess didn’t yet know who KC was. Bernard would have to get KC alone, so he could fill him in on the trouble the man could cause.

  An even bigger worry was that if Jess was there, others from the family would be too. It was true in Arizona, and, apparently, it was true in Colorado—even in the winter; if there was one cockroach in broad daylight, there were more hiding in the dark.

  Their meal arrived, and moments later, Jess was eating as well. Bernard glanced his way and several times saw Jess do the same. The women chatted about town and church and the most recent Tuesday Tea Party. KC, however, looked tense. He had good instincts as a lawman and knew when there was trouble. He didn’t ask for details, but Bernard knew he was watching him and Jess closely throughout the meal.

  “I have to get up early tomorrow to go through some papers before we leave town.” KC smiled down at Eliza, then up to Bernard. “I’ve got a few legal questions, too. Maybe we could meet for coffee.” KC kept the marshal persona carefully hidden under his even voice as he held Eliza’s chair as she stood.

  “First thing in the morning would be best.” Bernard knew KC would need as much information about the man, and therefore Bernard’s family, as he could give him.

  The two women hugged. “Enjoy the play. I know you’ll love it,” Clara said as the couples parted company.

  The theater group wouldn’t be the only ones acting tonight. He couldn’t tell Clara about his life until he knew what Jess was about. Bernard had finally felt like he’d outrun his past, but now it had run right into him again.

  The next morning after taking Clara to work, Bernard walked to Marshal KC’s office. While crossing the street, he noticed Jess standing near the livery, watching him. He was sure that his half-brother would keep his eye on him from here on out. Bernard guessed that, if he hadn’t already, Jess would send a message to the family in Arizona. That would give him something he’d always craved—importance in their father’s eyes.

  Bernard’s gut twisted. Maybe it was best if he left town or even the state again. In fact, he would if he knew why Jess was there in the first place. He had seemed genuinely surprised to see Bernard at the restaurant, so he hadn’t come here looking for him—he was dead to them. That meant he was up to something illegal and way out of the territory they usually worked.

  Creede had more than its
fair share of crime already. They didn’t need a new brand of it. Memories of the dealings his family had been involved in swamped him. Bernard had to stay and make sure they didn’t expand here.

  “Morning,” KC said when Bernard entered and pulled off his hat. “Who is he?”

  That’s what Bernard expected—straight to the point. “Jess Porter, my half-brother.”

  “Which half?”

  “My father wasn’t married to his ma, so he doesn’t have our last name, but my pa treats him like a son. He’s been involved in every illegal operation our family has.” KC’s eyes widened at the confession. Not many people knew Bernard’s history—only Judge Milton who had a similar past and had helped Bernard come to Colorado. He continued. “And he thrived on Pa’s acceptance—always trying to prove himself.” That made him more dangerous, if it was even possible.

  “What’s he doing here?”

  “That’s just it. I honestly don’t know, but I’d better fill you in on our family.” The story proceeded with much the same information that had kept him up the night before. But KC often stopped him to ask for additional information about how they pulled off their criminal activities and who to look out for. It took a little over an hour before KC was satisfied he had the information he needed and stopped interrogating Bernard.

  “It seems to me that the regular order of business is scouting, creating a diversion, committing the crime, misdirecting the lawmen, and leaving another way.”

  “I guess so. I haven’t been involved for more than a decade, but that’s what it was like when I rode with them. And they killed the men who came after them.”

  “I was with the Pinkerton Detective Agency long enough to know that outlaws prefer to get rid of lawmen. It often takes small western towns long enough to get a new one that the outlaws are never prosecuted since the person who had the evidence is dead. I’ll talk to Marshal Wheeler and tell him about your family. We’ll need his help. The sheriffs and marshals in towns round about need to know, too. They can help us look out for them coming into or near Creede. Wheeler can send a telegram from his station in Topaz. Write a description that might help, and we’ll send it out.” KC pulled a paper off the table and passed it to Bernard.

  He picked up the pencil that lay on the desk. He knew his father had probably changed much in the past ten years. “I’m not sure they’ll go through with their plans now that they know I’m here. They’d rather be completely anonymous.”

  “You said Jess was still in town, so they haven’t abandoned it yet. You might be the one thing that will ensure they come to town now. They might want to fetch you or kill you. If you notice anything, keep me informed.”

  Bernard thought the second was more likely. Before they took him, he’d do whatever he could to protect his town and the people in it. He nodded to KC and checked his clock. “I’ve got a client.” His hand pulled the door open. He was glad to have shared what he knew, but couldn’t help but think he’d brought this on Creede.

  “Watch your back,” KC called out before Bernard left the office.

  On his way back to Hearth and Home, Jess met him in the middle of the road. “You’re pretty cozy with that lawman—eating out to a restaurant. In fact, you spent quite a bit of time in the marshal’s office just now.”

  Bernard didn’t respond. He had nothing to say to the man.

  “I reckon either you’re in trouble or I am.” Jess wore a half smirk—the lips tipped up, but his eyes were hard.

  Still, Bernard didn’t respond. He noticed how Jess’s fingers twitched at the end of his scarred hands. His brother wanted to pull a gun and kill him. Something kept him from it. Probably warring between the ideas of proving his loyalty to Pa—only kill who you’re told to kill—and ridding his life of his greatest enemy, something this man had likely dreamed of since childhood.

  Jess had pulled a blade on Bernard once when they were nineteen, slashing him across his chest. Pa had whipped him until he couldn’t stand. When Jess’s health improved, Pa had whipped him again. They both understood their place in the family. Jess knew not to make his own decisions, but Bernard knew he was being groomed as heir to the violent empire his father was building—everything Jess craved.

  The shame and guilt of his upbringing roared through his chest. He was repulsed by the man who had fathered them. He was disgusted at himself and who he had been when he lived at home.

  That’s when Bernard had decided to look for a way out. He wouldn’t follow in those footsteps. That scar still crossed his chest, but the ones on his soul were worse.

  They stood silently in the middle of the road. Neither man would likely turn their back on the other. Jess had nothing to worry about from Bernard, but he didn’t know that.

  KC exited his office door. “You new to Creede?” he yelled toward Jess.

  Jess stared a moment longer at Bernard before answering. “Just passing through,” he called back without taking his eyes from Bernard. Then he tipped his hat at the marshal. To Bernard, he said, “See you around, brother. Glad you’re here.” Jess walked off toward the telegraph office without looking back.

  Chapter 6

  Clara

  Later that evening, Clara sat on the sofa crocheting another pillowcase for their home. When had she decided that it was her home too? She rarely thought of leaving him, but the fear of staying bit into her often. Bernard was changing her mind. She was coming to need his company. It just made her happy to be around him. Although Bernard had all the required furnishings for a house, it lacked homey touches. She was making pillows, but she had plans to make quilts and embroidered towels soon.

  She watched him sit and read, stand, pace, eat half the pan of rolls, and pace again. He hadn’t brought it up, but she knew something big was bothering him. She’d been debating if she should ask him to tell her about it or wait until he was ready. Maybe it wasn’t something she needed to know or a confidential legal matter.

  Her hands worked the yarn and hook through stitch after stitch without giving it much thought. It was probably time to tell secrets of her own. It might be best to lay it all out early. Then they could decide if the marriage should continue. She didn’t know what she’d do if they annulled it. If she stayed in Creede, her brother would never leave her alone. Where would she go?

  The thought nearly strangled her middle. Bernard had already taken up space in her heart. She stared at the pattern taking shape for the pillow, but her mind was examining how deeply she felt about Bernard.

  “Clara, can I talk with you?” His voice was right beside her. While she’d been woolgathering, he’d sat beside her without her noticing. When her eyes slid up to his, he started again. “I need to tell you about my family.” His eyes seemed sad, and a little crease formed between his eyebrows.

  She set aside her crocheting.

  “I grew up in the Arizona Territory. Our family raised cattle,” he said. “At least, that’s what I thought they did. My grandfather did, and my pa kept it going, but he did other things that you need to know about.” Instead of talking about it, his head sank into his hands. He took deep breaths and blew them out his mouth.

  She’d never seen such distress. Clara set her hook and yarn aside and placed her hand on Bernard’s shoulder. “You can tell me anything.” Whatever it was that could make him look fragile and worried, she would support him.

  He squeezed her hand and pulled it to his lap, holding it between both of his. “When I was younger, I fell in line protecting the family and doing whatever Pa demanded. It was brutal.”

  He paused, then asked, “Do you know what range wars are?”

  Clara searched her memory. She might have heard the words, but she couldn’t recall much about it. She shook her head and waited.

  “We raised cattle on the open range. Sometimes the grass was scarce, and we hoped our herd would survive another year. When the sheep men moved in, Pa took it as an act of war toward our family. He started to rid the land of the enemy. He told us that if they
stayed, our cattle would die. We wouldn’t be able to feed our family. We would die. He told us it was for our survival. There was nothing more important than family.”

  Bernard could finally glance up at her. He looked like a different man. Harder. Sadder. “As I grew, questions began rattling around in my mind. By the time I was grown, I realized our family wasn’t protecting itself—we were stealing cattle, robbing trains, murdering, and taking advantage of every illegal scheme we could think of.” He paused as if struggling to control his emotions. “We were caught in an ever-widening feud. People who moved in joined one side or the other. Even the native people in the area began joining in. They were paid, but there were no lines my pa wouldn’t cross to win. Only it never ends. Enough was never enough.”

  He picked up Clara’s hand and held it to his cheek. She felt the shadow of stubble across his jaw and the wetness of tears. She wanted to cry with him. She was glad he wanted her touch to soothe him.

  “I had to get away, to escape the wars my family constantly brewed. I felt cowardly doing it. I knew I was abandoning them.”

  Her heart squeezed to consider the hurt he must have known. “No. If they made you do those things, then they gave up on you long before that. They should have been protecting you not teaching you to commit crimes. I’m glad you left.”

  The slightest spark of hope glistened in his eye. “My family put me on a train for New York to go to school and get a law degree. They needed someone who could manipulate the laws and keep them out of prison. Instead, I got off the train in Oklahoma City and faked my death. I paid a man to swear that I’d fallen beneath the train before it stopped and was killed. Then I dug a grave, placed a marker with my name on it, and telegraphed my family about my death. Finally, I boarded a train for Dallas, Texas. When I got there, I bought a horse and rode to Waco. I enrolled at Baylor University, got my degree, and never went back to Arizona.” He looked her square in the eye. “I’m sorry you didn’t know this about me before. I guess I hoped it would stay buried. I’ve spent years looking over my shoulder. I’m sorry I brought that upon you.”