A Healing Love for the Broken Cowboy: A Historical Western Romance Book

by Cassidy Hanton

  He stepped closer to Isabelle and pulled her to him. He leaned down and kissed her with every last ounce of love he felt for her. His entire body vibrated with an emotional intensity he thought had been lost to him and a depth of feeling he had locked himself away from for so long.

  Breathless, Isabelle pulled back, her smile absolutely radiant as she looked at him.

  “I love you too, Harvey,” she whispered. “I love you with every last piece of my heart.”

  “Then I am the luckiest man in the world.”

  It had taken a special woman to batter down those walls of his and now that Isabelle had, Harvey felt a happiness he had denied himself for so long. And in that moment, as their lips were pressed together and his love for Isabelle made his heart swell, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt, that this was right.

  More than that, he knew that his love for Isabelle did not diminish his love for Amy. Making room for somebody new did not mean he was evicting his memories of the woman he still loved, even in death.

  Harvey was simply choosing to live in the now. To chase happiness rather than dwell in darkness. And he knew Amy would have approved. He knew that where ever she was, she was smiling for him.

  The bubble of happiness he and Isabelle were in was suddenly shattered by the sound of a gunshot and Ruby’s screams.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Isabelle’s eyes grew wide with terror and Harvey knew she was having the same thought he was − Elmer’s men had come back to finish the job.

  “That was from the house,” she whispered.

  His thoughts with his son and friends, Harvey sprinted from the studio to the house, a near panic fueling him. He heard Isabelle behind him but his legs were longer and he was faster. He worried about letting her step into the line of fire, especially when they did not know what was happening or who was shooting.

  And he did not have time to stop and argue with her, knowing she would demand to be in the fight. Sometimes, her stubbornness was not a good thing.

  Harvey rounded the corner and stepped into the yard at the front of the house. He saw a man running away, heading for the main road then cut a glance at the porch. Ruby was holding Charley and sobbing, blood on her blouse.

  Fear stole through Harvey as he looked at her, not knowing whose blood it was. It was then he saw Mark on the ground, writhing in obvious pain. And then Isabelle was there, on the porch. She immediately checked on Charley and looked over at Harvey, her eyes wide.

  “Charley is all right. He’s fine,” she shouted. “Mark’s been shot.”

  “Is he all right?”

  “I think so,” Isabelle called back.

  Nodding his head and clenching his jaw, Harvey turned and sprinted after the fleeing man. He was going to make the man pay for what he had done. Harvey’s breath came out in thundering gasps. He sounded like a charging bull as he closed the distance with the gunman.

  Words of warning echoed through Harvey’s mind − the gunman could simply turn around and fire. And if he did that, Harvey was as good as dead. But he plunged on, heedless of the danger to himself.

  But the man did not turn and fire. He simply ran and as Harvey closed in on him, he could hear what sounded like the man’s wild sobbing.

  “Stop running,” Harvey growled. “Just stop running!”

  Confused but still angry, Harvey lowered his head and powered on. The man didn’t stop running but his sobbing seemed to grow louder. Whoever the gunman was, he was neither fast nor particularly athletic. Despite having a sizeable head start, Harvey caught him from behind before he ever reached the road.

  When he was within an arm’s reach of the man, Harvey lashed out with his foot, clipping the back of the man’s boot. The man let out a garbled cry as his feet got tangled up with themselves and he went down hard onto the dirt. Harvey was on him in an instant, flipping him over onto his back and sat on top of him. He grabbed the man by the lapels of his jacket and hauled him up, their faces scant inches apart − and then paused.

  His breathing ragged and his heart racing, Harvey sat on the man’s chest staring down at him as confusion washed through him. The man looked up at Harvey, his face a mask of fear, tears, and snot. He sobbed and wailed, the epitome of abject misery.

  “You?” Harvey gasped. “Why − why would you do this?”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Isabelle had gotten Mark into one of the rockers on the porch and was using a rag and some warm water to clean his wound. He hissed, a grimace contorting his face as Isabelle poured some iodine onto the wound.

  “It went through the other side but I do not think it hit bone,” she said. “But we will need to get you to a doctor as soon as possible.”

  “Yeah, that would be fantastic,” Mark grunted.

  Isabelle poured more iodine onto the wound and Ruby, who was sitting in the rocker beside Mark, was trying to control her tears and put on a brave face. She handed Isabelle a roll of bandages and quickly wiped her eyes, grabbing hold of Mark’s good hand. Isabelle wound the bandages around Mark’s arm several times and then tied it off nice and tight.

  A spot of crimson immediately blossomed on the white fabric and Isabelle gnawed on her bottom lip, the heavy weight of worry crashing down over her. She was no doctor but it seemed like Mark was bleeding a lot. They needed to get him into town to see the doctor as soon as possible.

  “H - he’s going to be all right, isn’t he?” Ruby pleaded. “Please tell me he’s going to be all right.”

  “He will be fine, Ruby,” Isabelle said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. “We just need to get him to the doctor.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Mark said as he gazed into Ruby’s eyes. “I’ll be good as new. I promise you that.”

  Isabelle looked up to see Harvey coming across the yard, half-dragging a man behind him. He stooped down and picked up what looked like a pistol and tucked it into the waistband of his trousers.

  “C’mon, walk,” Harvey growled.

  As they drew closer and Isabelle recognized the man Harvey was dragging along, her eyes grew wide and she covered her mouth with her hands, twin threads of shock and disbelief coursing through her.

  Harvey threw the man to the ground at the foot of the stairs and he crumpled into a heap. He curled into a ball, sobbing as he buried his face in his hands. Harvey pulled the gun out of his trousers and held it down at his side.

  “Where is Charley?” Harvey asked, a note of worry in his voice. “Is my son all right?

  “He is fine, Harvey,” Isabelle replied, unable to take her eyes off the sobbing man. “He is sleeping in his crib.”

  “Sleeping?”

  She shrugged. “Children are very resilient.”

  Harvey turned to Mark. “You all right?”

  “Right as rain,” Mark chuckled.

  Harvey flashed him a grin but Isabelle saw the relief that colored his features.

  “Don’t worry Harv. It went through,” Mark said. “It’s a flesh wound. Doc’ll sew me up and I’ll be good as new.”

  “You better be or I’m going to take it out on his hide,” Harvey gestured to the man at his feet with the barrel of the gun.

  Isabelle could see how protective of Mark he was and it made her feel good. She came down the steps and stood next to Harvey, looking down at the man on the ground.

  Silas Pearson.

  “Get up,” Harvey growled.

  Silas whimpered and continued to sob, making no move to get up. Harvey reached down, grabbing Silas by the collar and roughly jerked him to his feet.

  “Be a man and get on your feet, Silas.”

  Silas stood before them, his shoulders slumped and his face a mess of dirt and tears. He stared at the ground, sniffling, and could not meet their eyes.

  “Why’d you do it, Silas?” Harvey grumbled. “Why did you shoot Mark?”

  Silas remained silent, his gaze still on the top of his boots. Harvey jabbed him in the shoulder with the barrel of the gun, his face darkening
as he stared at him. Isabelle felt a swell of pity for the man. He looked miserable. Lost. But her anger was dark and abiding and washed away any sense of sympathy she had for him.

  “Answer him, Silas,” she hissed. “Why did you shoot my brother?”

  Silas finally raised his eyes and Isabelle thought he just looked empty. Hollowed out. He was a long way from the dashing and dapper man she had met on the train in what seemed like another lifetime. And when he spoke, his voice was hoarse and strained.

  “I didn’t know it was your brother,” Silas said and turned a dark glare onto Harvey. “I thought I was shooting him.”

  Harvey recoiled, a look of shock on his face, like Silas had just reached back and slapped him.

  “Why in the world would you want to shoot me, Silas?” Harvey asked. “What did I ever do to you?”

  Silas’ gaze turned to Isabelle and the blood in her veins turned to ice. Her stomach churned and she felt lightheaded as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place in her mind. The answer was suddenly as apparent as the nose on her face.

  “I did it because I love you, Isabelle,” Silas roared. “I love you and he is standing in the way of us being together.”

  The greasy feeling of nausea welled within her and Isabelle had to fight off the urge to sick up right there in front of him.

  “So you figured you’d just kill me and then what − you thought she’d fall into your arms?” Harvey asked.

  “Yeah, something like that,” Silas shot back.

  Isabelle stepped forward and her arm moving with the swiftness of a snake striking, she clipped Silas with a jaw-jarring slap. The man’s head rocked to the side limply.

  “How dare you,” Isabelle spat. “How dare you!”

  “Isabelle, I love you,” Silas begged. “I can give you a good life. Just give me the chance.”

  Isabelle cocked her arm back to slap him again but paused. She stared into his eyes and felt the anger consuming her. She took a deep breath and forced herself to lower her hand. She would not give into the anger. She would turn the other cheek, as she had been taught.

  Isabelle turned around and faced Harvey. A look of contrition crossed her face and she frowned.

  “I am sorry Harvey,” she said softly. “I am truly sorry.”

  “You didn’t bring this down on us, Isabelle,” Harvey said. “This is all on him. Not you.”

  She gave him a tight smile and turned back to Silas, a look of utter revulsion on her face. She would not give into her anger − but oh, she wanted to. Instead, she tried to follow the example God had set for her and show compassion.

  “Even if I wasn’t in love with Harvey, I would not have loved you,” she said, her voice ice cold. “I do not love you, Silas. I am sorry, but I do not.”

  Silas lowered his head and seemed to deflate. He folded in on himself and started to cry softly.

  “So not to rush you or anything,” Mark called from the porch, “but somebody did say something about getting me to a doctor soon, right?”

  Isabelle and Harvey exchanged a look and then laughed softly together. Their laughter felt like a release of all the pressure and tension that had been building up. Isabelle laughed long and hard, feeling lighter than she had since they had heard the gunshot. She and Harvey’s gazed into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Isabelle could feel the emotion passing between them and felt her heart swell with it.

  Slowly and reluctantly, they broke eye contact and the moment passed. But this time, rather than an awkward silence being left in its wake, there was a hopeful promise of something more. It was just a whisper of emotion between them but it was growing louder.

  “Let me fetch some rope to bind this one with and we’ll get Mark into town then,” Harvey said. “And while we’re there, I’ll take Silas over to Sheriff Waits. Maybe he can be Elmer’s roommate up in Laramie.”

  Epilogue

  The sun was slipping toward the horizon and the sky was ablaze in vibrant hues of red and orange. A soft breeze blew in from the east, carrying with it the scent of wildflowers and the crisp, sweet aroma of the orchards, their multitude of pink and white blossoms providing a gorgeous backdrop.

  Isabelle looked out at the trees, the lifeblood of her brother’s booming industry − an industry that had nearly tripled in size after Elmer Alford had been shipped off to the penitentiary in Laramie. Business was so good, he was having trouble keeping up with the demand. But he loved it and finally out from under Elmer’s boots, he was happier than she had seen him in a long time.

  A few months after Elmer had been sent to prison, Mark had proposed to Ruby − and Harvey had proposed to her. It was something the two of them had worked out with each other.

  They had taken them into town for a nice evening out and had both dropped to a knee at the same time, in the middle of the restaurant, and had proposed to them.

  She and Ruby had been shocked to the point of speechlessness. But they had said yes. Of course they had said yes. There was never even a question in either of their minds.

  The following few months had been a whirlwind of planning and moving − Ruby had moved into Mark’s house and Isabelle had moved into Harvey’s. Ruby had sold her father’s land and ranch house, closing the chapter on that dark part of her life. And things since then had been more perfect than she could have ever imagined.

  “Do you, Isabelle Logan, take Harvey Willerson to be your husband in the eyes of God,” the voice cut into her thoughts. “To have and to hold, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health?”

  Isabelle stared at Pastor Rawlins blankly. She had heard the words, but she had been so caught up in her thoughts and memories, that she was not comprehending them at the moment. There was a long, drawn out silence that grew more awkward by the second.

  Pastor Rawlins arched an eyebrow at her, his eyes glittering with amusement. She cut a look at Harvey who was trying to hold back his laughter and reality snapped back into place in her mind. Harvey lost it and erupted into laughter, nearly doubling over with it.

  Behind her, the crowd of nearly one hundred people joined Harvey, the cascade of laughter raining down over her. She cut a glance at Mark and Ruby, standing beside them on the altar, for help and got none − they were both laughing along with everybody else.

  Despite the fact that her face was burning with embarrassment, she began to laugh as well. She shook her head and covered her face with her bouquet.

  Slowly, the laughter faded away and silence descended over the crowd once more − though it did seem to take some of the edge off the gathering. The atmosphere was a little bit lighter and looser after that.

  Isabelle cleared her throat and stood a little taller, brushing the imaginary wrinkles out of her white satin gown. Mrs. Withershaw had designed and made gowns for both she and Ruby that were similar and yet had just enough differences to make them unique.

  Isabelle’s was done in white satin, had an empire waist, a heart shaped neckline, sleeves that came to the middle of her bicep and a long train. She went with a crown of flowers as opposed to a veil because she thought it was prettier.

  Ruby had gone more traditional. Her gown was full and looked like something straight out of Queen Elizabeth’s court. It was lacy with a high neck, full sleeves, a wide flowing skirt, and a veil that was nearly opaque.

  They were both beautiful gowns and Isabelle thought they did indeed look like royalty.

  “So do you need me to repeat that last bit?” Pastor Rawlins asked, earning more laughter from the crowd.

  Isabelle grinned. “No, I have it,” she said “And yes. Yes I do. Very much so.”

  The crowd applauded and rippled with laughter. Pastor Rawlins recited the vows to Harvey, who had his wits about him and answered yes quickly. Next, he moved on to Mark and Ruby, who were getting married at the same time.

  The double wedding was something of an oddity in town. Most people were more traditional and conservative and marrying two couples at once seemed like more of a ra
dical departure from tradition than some people could bear.

  But the people who knew them best, who loved them best, and were their closest friends, thought it was a great idea. Both couples, Mark and Ruby, and Isabelle and Harvey, had pretty unconventional routes to the altar, so it seemed fitting that their ceremony would be just as unconventional.

  Plus, Isabelle and Ruby thought that since the boys had conspired to propose together at the same time, then they should probably get married at the same time. And from Isabelle’s perspective, it could not have been any more perfect.