"That is quite all right, I can manage on my own," Beatrice replied instantly. She knew Elaine would accompany her anywhere, yet Beatrice noticed how much her Nan enjoyed being on the ranch and spending her days surrounded with animals. She was happy, and Beatrice liked to see the old woman in such high spirit all the time.
"Do not worry, Auntie, I will be back in a jiffy."
Aunt Claudia rubbed her temples. "I still think you should take Ben or Jonathan with you. But I trust you."
Beatrice kissed her aunt on the cheek again, happy how this all played out.
After breakfast, Beatrice did some chores around the house, planning on departing afterward when a rider came to call upon them. And it was not the one she had become so accustomed to, despite the fact she would never admit to such a thing, even to herself.
It was the Sheriff. He requested to speak with Beatrice and her Uncle Tom, which meant everybody stayed to listen to what he had to say.
"We received words from New York, a wanted sign since they are all under the impression that you have been kidnapped, Miss Beatrice."
"Kidnapped," she exclaimed. "That is ridiculous." Beatrice looked at Elaine, yet the other woman stayed quiet. Her meaning was clear, she wanted to hear what the Sheriff had to say first.
The Sheriff calmly nodded. "Due to the circumstances involving your parents' passing, for which I offer my sincere condolences, I believe it was rather expected for something like that to occur, especially if you simply left without a word," he explained in one breath. Despite his last remark, there were no traces of condemnation in them.
Beatrice felt the need to say something, explain herself in some way yet he continued to speak. "One gentleman filed a complaint," he said, pulling a paper telegram from his pocket. "Mr. John Leaton."
"That is our family's attorney," Beatrice explained. "And my father's dear friend."
"I suspected as much, so I sent a telegram this morning to the New York headquarters office to inform them you are here, alive and well, visiting your aunt and uncle."
Oh, no, Beatrice started to panic. That was it. Their whole plan simply vanished. It was now just a matter of time before the assassin finds her here. Looking at her family, she knew they were thinking about the very same thing.
Uncle Tom was the first one who recovered. "Thank you for clearing that up for us. Beatrice came here rather distraught and made a mistake."
"Completely understandable," the Sheriff replied instantly. "I am happy to be of assistance."
With a few more pleasantries exchanged, the good Sheriff departed, leaving everyone in a state of slight shock. Another family meeting was held where they talked about their next course of action.
"Is this it?" Beatrice asked in alarm. "Am I to run again now that I am about to be discovered?"
"Nonsense," Uncle Tom exclaimed. "You are not going anywhere. This is your home now, and we are your family."
"I know, uncle, but…"
"No arguments," he stopped her from finishing her sentence. "I vowed to protect you, and that is precisely what I intend to do, so I swear on my ancestors," he said solemnly.
Beatrice detested herself for putting them in this position of bringing danger to their doorstep, yet at the same time she felt nothing but love and gratitude toward her uncle. She believed that he would do everything in his power to protect her. Yes, but at what cost? Beatrice thought and shuddered.
"So, we do nothing," Elaine said simply.
"What do you mean “nothing”?" Beatrice rebelled.
"Nothing," she repeated with a shrug. "We will wait and see if anything comes from this."
When she puts it like that, it makes sense. Maybe Beatrice was panicking prematurely and without a cause. Well, not completely without a cause.
"Right," her uncle agreed. "We wait and see, and if someone does come, we will deal with it quickly and efficiently, as we do in these parts." There was a certain gleam in his eyes when he said that. Her uncle was usually a peaceful man, yet that could change rather quickly if someone threatens his family.
"I cannot deal with this talk any longer," Aunt Claudia said, swaying in her chair.
She was having one of her episodes again. And it is all my fault, Beatrice chastised herself. Uncle Tom arose immediately to help her get up. "Let me take you to bed, my dear wife," he offered softly.
Beatrice's aunt nodded, calming immediately, letting him lead her away, which Beatrice found rather peculiar.
"All right then, off I go," she told Elaine.
"Be careful, Miss," Elaine replied, still looking after the pair.
"Of course," Beatrice said, leaving the house.
She patiently waited for Jonathan to saddle Bailey, her horse, a task she had not fully mastered yet, thinking things over.
Maybe it was fortunate the events turned into such fashion. She could not live like this forever at any rate. This torment needed resolution, and if the only way for her to learn everything was for an assassin to come here and try to kill her yet again, then so be it.
Beatrice was done running away. That did not mean she was without fear. To be perfectly honest, she was terrified, yet at the same time she longed for the truth even more.
"Thank you, Jonathan," Beatrice murmured when the lad offered to help her mount Bailey.
"My pleasure, Miss Beatrice," he mumbled back. Jonathan was a man of few words, yet she discovered she was comfortable in his presence as if he was also kin of herself. Putting all her worries aside for a bit, Beatrice was off.
Riding Bailey reminded her of Mr. Walsh. Actually, riding in general did that as well, and she was still not fully comfortable seeing him in bright light.
Alas, there was one thing she did have to give him credit for, riding Bailey was a dream. She couldn't believe she waited this long to learn this joy. Not that she had any opportunities while living in New York, but still. It was such a rush and an over-consuming sense of freedom she never experienced before and now knew she could not live without.
It is all thanks to Mr. Nathan Walsh, she reminded herself with a sigh. And in part due to her aunt's meddling, she added, yet she wasn't going to dwell on that small detail either. It was a fine day, and Beatrice simply wanted to return to her previous good mood as well.
Unfortunately, all too soon, the pair of them —a fresh new rider and an experienced horse— rode into town, and they caused quite a few people to pause and look at them. Beatrice greeted everyone with a smile and an incline of her head.
She went straight to the grocery shop, and after tying Bailey securely in front of it, strode inside. A very cheerful looking old man greeted her. He was the only one minding the store and very helpful as she requested everything she needed for that apple pie. Beatrice paid in full and gave the old man her name.
"A boy will deliver everything to your house, Miss Beatrice," he provided.
"Thank you kindly," Beatrice replied back.
"It was nice meeting you," he said, offering her a sugar candy.
She accepted it with gratitude. "You as well, Mr. O'Connor."
"Make sure to come to visit me again," he said as she walked away from the store.
"As soon as possible," she promised, and that was an honest to God truth, especially if she turned to be lacking in the kitchen. Then her visits could become daily even, she joked to herself, picturing the exasperated expression on Dolores's face as she tries unsuccessfully to teach her anything.
Still smiling, Beatrice left the store. She somewhat regained her previous state of mind and enjoyed herself and the cooking lesson that was ahead of her.
"Did you miss me?" She asked the horse, petting it for a bit, and Bailey started to make noises to her in return. So, she presumed that meant yes.
Beatrice was in the process of placing some small purchases she decided to take with her in the saddle pockets when someone grabbed her by the shoulder somewhat fierce.
All the things she bought spilled to the ground and she let out a sound o
f protest. She was spun around only to face a rather dirty looking man that missed most of his front teeth, and the only way she knew that was because he was smiling at her.
"Aren't you a pretty little thing," he leaned into her face as if for better inspection making her take a step back, leaning into Bailey. He reeked of cheap alcohol and something even more vile. Beatrice's stomach turned; she got very close to losing her breakfast.
"What do you think you're doing?" Beatrice protested. "Release me at once," she commanded, trying to move away from his grasp yet his grip became stronger. It was really starting to cause her serious pain.
"You are a feisty one," he grinned, moving towards her still, yet swaying, he was dead drunk.
Beatrice managed to grab hold of the reins, she just needed to push the man away so she could jump on her house and escape. Quite an easy endeavor, Beatrice grumbled to herself. "Let go!" She tried again.
Unfortunately, he saw what she was doing and grabbed her with his other hand as well, his dirty fingers dug into her flesh. "I am not done with you yet," he hissed as if she was at a fault for trying to get away from him. He kicked the horse and Bailey reared on his hind legs, making Beatrice drop the reins as a result.
"No!" She cried out in exasperation, watching Bailey as he started to run away. What am I to do now? She panicked, yet that did not last long. Losing a horse she started to get quite attached to, made her angry. "You will pay for that," she warned, yet he fully ignored her.
"Where were we?" He asked almost lovingly. "Why don't you give me a little kiss," the man said, leaning toward her; Beatrice was so disgusted she really started to kick and hit him any way possible.
"Let go of me," she shouted. Trying to break free from his hold and punch him in his grinning face.
"That's it, girlie, I like it when you fight me," he said and laughed out loud, wholeheartedly.
Girlie. In a flash, Beatrice was moved someplace else. It was dark, she was cold, wearing only her nightgown and another vile, laughing man, calling her girlie was trying to hurt her. No, no, no, no, no. She tried to return to the here and now, yet the memory tormented her, paralyzing her.
"I am so going to enjoy this, fight me, girlie," the man said with glee, forcing her close to his body, yet she couldn't react, going through her own personal nightmare inside her head.
I am going to die! Beatrice thought with sudden clarity. She could not outrun him this time. All was lost, she lost; and whoever killed her parents finally got to her as well.
Mom, Dad, I am sorry, she sent a silent prayer to the heavens, hoping she was going to see them once again and soon.
"I wonder if you felt the same, if I fought you?" Another voice asked from behind. A voice Beatrice would recognize anywhere, even in her state of disarray. It belonged to none other than Nathan Walsh. And he came to her rescue.
Praise the heavens.
Chapter Fourteen
While Beatrice thanked the heavens for sending Nathan Walsh to her aid, the drunken idiot looked over his shoulder, still refusing to let her go. "This is of no concern to you. Walk away, boy, while you still can," he practically growled.
"Oh," Nathan replied casually. "I was rather hoping you would say something like that." There was almost a note of cheerfulness in his voice while delivering that, which was ridiculous considering the situation.
"Don't say I didn't warn…" the scoundrel did not get a chance to finish that sentence.
In a move that was too fast for any reaction, Mr. Walsh grabbed the man by the neck and simultaneously kicked him on the legs. The drunken man started to fall while shouting in pain. Alas, his grip was still strong on her, so Beatrice started to fall as well.
Nathan Walsh pivoted in the next instance and successfully pulled the drunken idiot off her, getting between them. "Thank you," Beatrice breathed, managing to regain her balance as Mr. Walsh dealt with that menace.
"You will pay for this, boy," the man threatened, he looked enraged enough to kill Nathan, who on the other hand remained completely calm. Without preamble or another word exchanged, Nathan Walsh simply punched the other man straight in the nose. Even Beatrice could hear something crack and crimson blood started to ooze from the wound inflicted. Being highly intoxicated and unbalanced, the man fell backward with a loud thud and stayed down.
Beatrice sighed in relief. Thank you, my Lord.
Nathan Walsh instantly turned toward her. "Are you all right, Miss Beatrice? Did he hurt you?" he asked in alarm, and only then did she realize she was shaking from head to toe.
He looked at her arms, where the scoundrel was holding her fully expecting to find them damaged, and her arms did hurt ever so slightly yet for some reason she could not reassure Nathan she was fine. That word —girlie —was still stuck inside her mind.
What does it all mean? First the Sheriff, now this, is it all connected? When the sheriff came to inform them the authorities in New York thought she was kidnapped, Beatrice knew something like this was bound to happen sooner rather than later. Am I losing my mind? Her head was full of questions, never answered.
"Miss Beatrice?" Nathan Walsh insisted.
Beatrice looked at him with teary eyes. "I lost Bailey," she managed to choke out. Despite everything that happened to her, she considered that the biggest tragedy. Memories would fade, any wounds would heal, but a dear horse lost was something else entirely.
Mr. Walsh paused for a moment; her reply confused him, yet he composed himself in the next instance. He took off his jacket and carefully placed it over her shoulders. The fragrance that traveled with the jacket to Beatrice calmed her a bit, so she took a deep breath, then another.
"Everything will be all right, Miss Beatrice," Mr. Walsh tried to reassure her. "Bailey knows his way home. He will be fine." That actually was reassuring, and she hoped he was right.
"Let me take you home now," Mr. Walsh offered, pointing toward his horse.
"I need my things," she protested.
Mr. Walsh frowned, not understanding what she meant, so she stooped down and started collecting her stuff. He stopped her. "Allow me," he said and carefully picked up every item Beatrice was forced to drop.
The drunken idiot was still unconscious. And looking about, Beatrice realized nobody witnessed their little scene. That was a blessing and a curse. She was lucky she did not have to explain what happened to anybody, yet at the same time she could not even think about what would have happened if Mr. Walsh did not come to her aid.
Afterwards, he escorted her to his horse. When he made sure she was settled, he jumped up behind her. Beatrice still shook despite the fact that the weather was nice, and she was safe.
Am I truly safe?
Nathan could barely contain himself. On the outside, he made sure he looked perfectly calm, yet he was anything but on the inside. He wanted to go back and beat that man senseless for ever thinking he could lay just one finger on his Miss Beatrice.
Not that she is mine, he reminded himself. "Please calm yourself, Miss Beatrice. Everything will be all right," Nathan tried to soothe her. He could feel her shakes which only deepened his rage.
Some people cannot be called men at all, simply animals! He fumed. He could hear her taking a deep breath, and he did the same. She was alright, safe and with him, Nathan reminded himself. There was no need to be so riled up. A part of him wholeheartedly disagreed, yet Nathan chose to ignore that for everybody's sake.
"He will never harm you again," Nathan added, and his words sounded like a vow.
"He called me girlie," Miss Beatrice said so softly he almost did not catch it. Still, the meaning of that statement eluded him. It caused her additional distress, he could see that clearly.
I cannot take her home in such a state, she needs to calm herself first, Nathan decided. He would take her someplace else. Only when she was ready, he would return her to her family, and he knew just the right place for that.
They started going north and away from Helena, not too far away to alarm Beatr
ice, up the climb, until they reached a small clearing. Down below you could spot the whole town and nearby ranches. That spot, right there, was one of Nathan's favorite places, especially at sunset or sunrise.
Nathan discovered it completely by accident when he was a boy, and frequently retreated here when troubled. This was the first time he brought someone up here with him. Nobody knew about his favorite spot, not even Josef, which confused him as to why he decided to bring her here of all people.
Nathan stopped his horse and waited. Beatrice started looking about. "This is not home," she stated.
Nathan dismounted, helping her get down as well. "I thought you would prefer some alone time to compose yourself before going home," Nathan explained.
Beatrice looked at him in confusion then nodded. "Thank you," she said followed with a sigh. "Auntie would be quite distressed."
Nathan was far more concerned about her own feelings, but he did not point that out. "Are you all right?" Nathan felt the urge to inquire.
Beatrice took a deep breath, and turning away from him, walked the short distance toward the cliff to gaze at the town below. "It's rather silly," she tried to make light of the situation, and Nathan approached her.
"There is nothing silly about what happened," Nathan insisted.
It took Beatrice quite some time to reply, enough to make him go insane from worry. "He called me girlie," she said eventually, and once again Nathan was at a loss of words since he did not understand what that meant to her. "I'm sorry, I..." Beatrice started to stumble over her words.
"You do not need to speak if you are not inclined to do so," Nathan reassured her.
Beatrice nodded as if that settled something for her and opened her mouth again. "I lost my parents very recently."
Her revelation shocked him. "I am terribly sorry for your loss," Nathan replied slowly. "I, too, was orphaned at a young age," he shared, surprising both of them in the process. "The pain from that loss never goes away, however, you do learn how to live with it," he tried to reassure her.
Finding the Broken Cowboy Page 11
