Fitzpatrick: Cowboy Reluctant: Christian Historical Western (The Kavanagh Brothers Book 7)

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Fitzpatrick: Cowboy Reluctant: Christian Historical Western (The Kavanagh Brothers Book 7) Page 7

by Kathleen Ball


  It was hard to breathe, but she kept her worries to herself as she tried not to cry. Anything she did would be a mark against her. There was still much she didn’t remember, but some things were coming back to her.

  “I can’t believe you made me come out here and get you! The whole city has heard about what you did! I can’t wait to get you alone.” Her father’s face turned red with anger.

  This was where she used to beg for mercy, but today she just watched the scenery.

  William rode next to her. “I’m thinking I might not marry you after all. You could do more for me by becoming one of my girls. You must prove to me you can be an exemplary wife who will be welcomed back into society. Do you understand what being one of my girls means?”

  She nodded as she gripped the bottom of the seat until her knuckles turned white. She wanted nothing to do with this man. He made her skin crawl. No wonder she had run away.

  “You didn’t shame yourself, did you?” her father asked.

  She shook her head. But I wish I had. Perhaps just a kiss or two with Fitzpatrick. It hurt to think of him. At least she knew what it was like to feel love, and she’d keep him tucked in her heart before she tried to build a wall around it. She didn’t like the sneer William gave her.

  “Well, folks this is where we part company,” the sheriff said. “Have a safe trip.”

  Her father tipped his hat. “Appreciate the help.”

  They stopped long enough for her to change into her clothes.

  Fitzpatrick paced the length of the barn. His heart ached, and he was still in shock. He would have married her if he’d known her father could up and take her. He had to be the biggest fool in Texas. He shouldn’t have denied his feelings for her. Instead, he acted like an immature idiot. He never had anything nice to say about her and it just wasn’t true. There were plenty of nice things about her.

  Teagan told him that he thought the best thing to do was let her go. They didn’t have the law on their side. Those words almost killed Fitzpatrick.

  Sullivan walked into the barn, and Fitzpatrick quickly told him what happened. “We need to go after her! Teagan doesn’t have the authority to say we can’t.”

  “Fitzpatrick, I feel for you really I do but she’s probably in town right now getting married. I’m sorry for you both. I thought you insisted you would not marry her. What happened?” Sullivan frowned.

  “I wanted to. It was just—At first, I didn’t want to be led to the altar by my ear like an errant child. I wanted to make my own decision. I wanted to be in charge of my own life. And then… after she was up from the near drowning, she put me off, told me I shamed her.” He clenched his hands in fists. “Look where it got me.” He plopped down on the ground and buried his head in his hands.

  “You’ll never stop wondering unless you are sure she did get married. Ride into town and ask the sheriff. Don’t get your hopes up too high. We’ll be here when you come back, and don’t beat yourself up. There might be nothing you can do.”

  Fitzpatrick saddled Poke and spurred him toward town. His heart banged hard against his ribs as he rode, and it was painful.

  He didn’t see a wagon when he reached town. Dust swirled up from the road making it hard to see but there definitely was no wagon.

  At the jail he paused. He pulled open the door to the jail. “Sheriff?”

  Sheriff Knowls removed his feet from his desk and sat. “What can I do for you, Kavanagh?”

  Fitzpatrick stared at the sheriff. “Did they get married before they left?”

  “We parted ways. They weren’t coming through town. I’m no expert in geography, but I’d bet they went to catch the train and get as close to New Orleans as they can. After the train it seems like you can get a stagecoach to almost anywhere these days. Sweet on her, aren’t you?”

  “Something like that,” he admitted.

  “Yeah, I thought so out at your place.” Knowls nodded. “I bet you can find half a dozen men in the saloon that could draw you a map and tell you the best way to go.”

  “I’ll do that,” Fitzpatrick replied already on the way out the door.

  It was still early in the day, but the saloon had plenty of men drinking. Fitzpatrick scanned the tables for anyone who’d fought in the war. Former soldiers would probably know how to intercept Brenna. After a long moment, he moseyed over to a table in the corner where a man nursed half a shot of whiskey.

  “Howdy, Yukon Jake,” Fitzpatrick greeted. Jake had never been to the Yukon but had somehow ended up with the name. If he went anyplace once, he could get there again blindfolded.

  “Kavanagh, have a sit down.”

  The legs of the chair scraped against the blackened saloon floor. “I need some way to rescue a gal on her way to New Orleans. Any ideas?”

  The older man smiled showing off the three front teeth he had left. “Depends. Overland?

  Fitzpatrick nodded.

  “Wagon or horse?”

  Fitzpatrick shook his head. “Train.”

  “That’s easy enough. The trains run slow and are always late. Houston is where you want to go. They’ll take a train south then east. Houston is where she’ll change trains. Now if you need to get there before her, you take that horse of yours and ride. Take a few horses so you can change out. Staying close to the tracks is the easiest way, it’s been cleared. Makes for a smoother ride.” He leaned forward and peered into Fitzpatrick’s eyes. “Say, I thought you didn’t want a gal…”

  “Things change. Thank you for your fine advice.” He stood and walked to the bar paying for a few more drinks for Yukon. He’d ride home, get a string of horses and supplies, and head out.

  Chapter Eleven

  Brenna slouched on the wagon seat. With every turn of the wheels, she remembered more and more about her father and why she didn’t like him. All he had ever done was belittle her, and now he slapped her a few times. It had hurt, but she also realized he liked to make her cry. At first, he seemed confused when she didn’t scream out. Then he’d acted disappointed. That shored up her resolve. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crying.

  He’d called her everything from ungrateful to a hussy. Each word cut her. If only she could build a wall around her heart faster. Maybe she’d been a weak-willed ninny like he said, but she was different now. He must have told her again and again she had no value and she was doing things wrong. Her life must have been very hard.

  “You’re not sayin’ much, girl.” He glanced at her and frowned.

  “There’s nothing to say. I know who I am and I know I have worth. Faith in God helped me. I am a child of God and that makes me worth a lot. I try to be kind and respectful. I work hard. My bible is probably in my bag. Would you like me to read it to you?”

  William chuckled. “Sassy, now are you? That’s fine. I can rip the sassy right out of you.”

  She gazed at her lap. Maybe sassy wasn’t the way to play it. Smart and quiet would probably be best; observing until she found a way to run was a solid plan.

  Lord, I don’t have to tell You the peril I’m in. You already know. My biggest comfort is knowing You are with me and praying. I’m remembering a few things, but not letting them know isn’t like lying is it? I’m trusting You’ll let me know if I’m in the wrong. Thank You for the strength You have given me. Amen.

  “It’ll be one-night sleeping at a friend’s place and then, well you need not know the details do you, honey?” her father asked. He sounded happy, but she didn’t look up.

  “We could make it to Fort Worth if we just keep going. I see no need to stop at that town.” William sounded haughty.

  “My friends not good enough for ya?” her father snapped back.

  “Probably not. A town named after a chair isn’t a place I want to go,” William sneered.

  “It’s called Rocker. There is nothing wrong with the name. I could use a drink sooner than later.”

  “Old man, you are trying my patience. You don’t have any money to drink or play cards
with. There is no reason to stop.” William pulled his gun. “Stop the wagon.”

  Fear cloaked Brenna, and her body shook. Her father tried to grab his rifle, but William tore it out of his hand. Then William holstered his gun and lifted her none too gently onto the saddle, so she was in front of him. “Now you can do whatever you want, old man.” With that, he jammed his heels into the horse and set him into a fast gallop.

  “Wait! Are you going to just leave him there?” she asked.

  “I no longer have a use for him. He’s lucky I let him live.” He put his arm around her waist and tightened his hold until she gasped. “Let’s just be quiet, shall we?”

  She finally took a deep breath when he loosened his grasp. He was strong and he was evil. What were they going to do in Fort Worth? Maybe she could get away from him there. She believed she’d be fine, eventually. Though sometimes a person had to go through hard times. How hard were these times? The Lord never gave anyone more than they could handle. Where had she heard that? Was it in the Bible? She’d find out later. Wherever it had come from, she needed the saying to be true.

  She looked at the clouds, and the first one reminded her of an angel. Whether or not it was a sign, it warmed her and filled her with much needed courage. She would do her best to fear no evil.

  The Lord is with me. I will fear no evil. The Lord is with me. I will fear no evil… Over and over she played the words in her head.

  Her captor smelled of expensive cologne mixed with leather and horse. He probably wasn’t happy to have left his saloon. Why he had done so just to get her, she did not understand. She wasn’t bad looking but there wasn’t anything that made her stand out. Maybe her red hair? He didn’t give her father a second thought. No matter how much she wanted to ask questions she kept silent. He liked sassy? She could be dull and weak if she set her mind to it. Her life would be drastically different and not for the better.

  The Kavanaghs were probably all working. Who would take charge of the garden? There were bound to be more happy times on the ranch with weddings and babies. What a fool she’d been to think she could be part of it all.

  Her future will be filled with wickedness. Did this man have a house, or did he live at the saloon? He wouldn’t be faithful even if he married her. Was he really going to make her one of his girls? Would he marry her after that? Would he even look at her? Maybe that was why he’d gotten rid of her father. Maybe he’d planned for her to be one of the saloon girls all along. Struggling to keep her eyes open became a trial. Finally, she just leaned back against him and slept.

  “Thanks for coming with me, Angus. I’d forgotten how well you know Texas.” They rode side by side at a walk, giving the horses a rest. “I would have just headed south. It didn’t occur to me they’d get on the train at Fort Worth.”

  “The wagon will slow them down too. I hope Kent doesn’t marry Brenna. I’m such a dolt.”

  Angus laughed. “I could have told you that. You constantly mooned over her.”

  “Did not.”

  “I would ask you a question, and I wouldn’t get an answer if Brenna was in sight. Fitzpatrick, couldn’t you tell she cares for you?”

  “Angus, I could, and it scared me to death. I have no idea what to do with a wife. I will get her back and this time we will be married. I wonder how she’s holding up? She’s still weak from her near drowning.” Fitzpatrick took off his hat and mopped the sweat off his brow with a spare bandana. At least there was a breeze. Not a cool breeze but a breeze all the same.

  Angus laughed. “You usually just use your sleeve to wipe off the sweat. What’s this whole head mopping thing?”

  Fitzpatrick scowled. “I don’t want a shirt that smells if I see her today.”

  Angus gave him a knowing smile and sped up. “Look! The wagon tracks go one way and a horse another.”

  Fitzpatrick took a quick look. “We follow the horse; the tracks sit deeper starting here. Kent has Brenna.”

  “We might as well switch out our horses. If we can go fast enough, we might just overtake them,” Angus said.

  Every second he was off the horse made Fitzpatrick crazy. It was wasted time he needed to use to find Brenna. It was unreasonable, but he couldn’t help it. Kent looked like a no-good con man. Why did they split up? If Brenna’s father cared, he wouldn’t have left her alone with that scoundrel.

  They were off again, not bothering to eat. They jawed on jerky instead. It reminded him of being in the army. The sun was just starting its descent from the sky, and the mosquitos were everywhere. Angus held up his fisted hand and they both stopped. Angus silently pointed ahead. They got down from the horses and walked into the trees, still following the tracks left by William Kent’s horse. They were fresh, and a tiny spot moved in the distance.

  “How far do you think?” Fitzpatrick asked as he slapped his neck to kill a mosquito.

  “Less than a mile. I’d say there are about five more miles to Fort Worth. We need a plan. I don’t think they’ll stop for the night.”

  “I wonder… If we cut through the woods, can we get ahead?”

  Angus looked like he was studying a map in his head. “Not here. Not far though. Be ready in case we’re spotted.”

  Fitzpatrick nodded and followed him. They rode along the road for about fifteen more minutes before they dismounted and walked the horses into the woods. What Fitzpatrick couldn’t see from the road had become a well-worn path. Angus knew his stuff.

  It was frustrating, though. Fitzpatrick couldn’t see the road, and he’d planned on getting a glimpse of Brenna. They exited the forest and got back on their horses. They’d hobbled the rest not too far away. The waiting was painful. He was so anxious he could hardly stand it.

  Then Kent and Brenna came around a bend. Startled, Kent pulled up on the reins. Brenna practically fell out of the saddle. Kent didn’t look gentle when he grabbed her arm and pulled her back upright. She seemed confused.

  “We’ll be taking Brenna,” Fitzpatrick said as he leveled his pistol at Kent. Brenna was in the way, though, so he hoped Kent wouldn’t call his bluff. “Let her down nice and easy.”

  Angus slipped to the side and cocked his gun when Kent tried to draw. “I don’t think so. I’m an expert shot… so is my brother. Your best bet is to let her go and then be on your way.”

  Kent practically growled. “I’ve been patient about this whole situation. I’d wipe my hands of the complete business, but I have a buyer for her. A rich gent from England likes her red hair. He says it calls to him.” He glanced at Angus and then Fitzpatrick. His lips curled in a sneer. “It wasn’t supposed to be complicated.” He pushed Brenna off the horse and practically ran Fitzpatrick over as he galloped toward Fort Worth.

  Chapter Twelve

  Pain radiated from her elbow, and she cried out. Once she saw William Kent ride off, all the pain went away. She was free!

  Thank You, Lord!

  Angus got to her first and squatted next to her. “Anything broken?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  As Fitzpatrick came closer, she drank him in. Her heart wanted his, and her soul reached for his. She’d never have to wonder again if it was true love. She couldn’t help the wide grin on her face. He frowned when he stood over her, and her happiness disappeared.

  She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry you had to rescue me again. I never wanted—I never intended—I’m glad he’s gone. We must find a stage going further west so my father won’t come for me again. I think I’ll change my name. It’ll have to be quick, though. My father went to Rocking for the night then planned to meet us in Fort Worth.

  Fitzpatrick scooped her up and stared into her eyes. “I’m not letting you go. I want you to stay at the ranch. I want to see you every day. Let’s get you home.”

  He set her on her feet then swung into his saddle. “Angus, hand her up to me, will you?” She was gently placed in front of Fitzpatrick. She allowed her exhausted body to lean back against him.

  “Let’s go,” Fitz
patrick said as he took the lead.

  The fast pace made for a bumpy ride. Were they trying to make it back to the ranch before nightfall? She could use some food and water and a way to keep the mosquitos away. There were swarms of them. They veered off into some woods and the men led the horses on foot. Her eyes became so heavy. It took all her energy to stay on the horse. She wanted to rejoice when they stopped.

  Fitzpatrick held his arms out to her, and she easily slid into them. He always made her feel safe. He set her on a stump near the fire pit that was already there. “Are you all right? I know you’re still weak.” He sat down on a stump next to her.

  “I’m so tired, but I’m also hungry, and water would be wonderful.”

  He scowled.

  “Did I say something wrong? The expressions on your face since Kent left haven’t been very pleasant.” Her stomach churned waiting for an answer.

  He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I’m mad at myself, not you. Never you. I should have offered you water and jerky while we rode. I try to be aware, but sometimes I just see where I want to be, not the journey to get there. I’m sorry you thought I was frowning at you. I’m so relieved we found you.” He stood and grinned at her. “All we have is jerky. I’ll get it and some water.”

  What did that mean? Did he have no regard for others? There have been a few times he acted that way, but it wasn’t something to scowl about. He probably needed her to ask for what she wanted instead of waiting for him to offer.

  Angus dropped a big armful of wood by the firepit and made a fire. The smoke kept some mosquitos away but not all. “I’ll make some coffee so we’ll at least have that to warm us.”

  “It’ll cool down soon enough. I appreciate you coming to get me, Angus.”

  His face turned red. “You’re like family. I couldn’t let them just take you.” He had the coffee pot ready for when the fire grew hotter. “Plus, I didn’t want my brother wandering all of Texas alone.”

 

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