Rescuing the Cowboy Read online

  Bethany shrugged, but it hurt terribly to do so, and a whimper escaped her lips. “I guess God was preparing me for this.”

  Milly nodded and leaned back in her chair. “I’ll take care of it.” She patted Bethany’s hand. “Don’t you worry one bit.”

  Then she began to stand. Panic gripped Bethany’s heart. “Do you have to go now? Can’t you stay just a bit?”

  Huffing a laugh, Milly shook her head. “Whatever for? You’re doing much better. I’ll be sure to tell the doctor on my way out. Then I will take care of your savings. Not to worry.”

  A frown tugged at Bethany’s lip, but she couldn’t let it continue because it hurt to much. “Thank you, Milly,” she said finally.

  With another laugh, Milly began walking away, and though Bethany wasn’t sure she heard clearly, she would swear that she heard the woman say, “No, thank you.”

  Marcus woke shivering, even though he could feel the warmth of the fire he sat in front of. Two blankets lay over top of him, and he lay upon the fur in front of the fireplace in the parlor. He rubbed his aching head, and his fingertips tingled. He began rubbing them as well.

  “It’s about time you woke,” a gruff voice said from the chair behind him. Marcus turned about quickly and found his grandfather sitting there, smoking a pipe.

  The tension left Marcus’s shoulders. “How long was I out for?”

  “An hour or two,” the elder man said. “I thought you were made of sterner stuff. The other boy, Freddy—he at least walked in here on his own two feet.”

  Marcus frowned. As usual, his grandfather was making judgments of him without knowing the full story. Instead of correcting the man, Marcus let out a slow breath. “That’s good to hear. I’m glad Freddy is doing well.”

  “Did you at least make sure all the cattle were in the valley before you took off home for no reason?”

  Marcus’s jaw clenched. “They were all just about there.”

  “Just about?”

  “The other boys were finishing up. They aren’t home yet?”

  His grandfather waved a hand dismissively. “I wouldn’t know what the other cowboys are doing. At least they are all staying in the bunkhouse the way the cowboys are supposed to be doing and not sitting in the kitchen of the main house flirting with the scullery maid. Why don’t you make yourself useful and head in there and tell those boys to get out and back to the bunkhouse.”

  Heat raced up Marcus’s neck and warmed him straight down to his toes. His grandfather had always been the kind of rancher that kept his hands off the work end. He’d had a foreman to take care of all those things, and when the foreman left, Marcus had to beg his grandfather to allow him to take over the position.

  The old man took a long drag on his pipe. “Did you think I meant tomorrow, foreman? I mean now.”

  With a frown, Marcus let the blankets fall from him while he stood and pulled up his suspenders. He still only wore an undershirt, and his hair still had a bit of moisture in it from where the snow had made it under his hat. He bit his tongue. There were lots of things he could say to his grandfather, but out of respect and the fact that his grandfather could be a very vindictive man, Marcus remained silent as he left the parlor and headed toward the kitchen. The scullery maid’s laughter led him directly to the door. Once he pushed it open everyone fell silent. Then they let out a collective breath of relief when they saw Marcus was the one standing there.

  Wilbur looked up from the bowl of stew he had in front of him. “Good to see you back on your feet, sir. We were all worried about you.”

  “Sorry to make everyone worry,” Marcus said as he sat down at the long bench in front of the wooden butcher’s block table in the kitchen.

  The scullery maid, Margaret, brought over a bowl of stew and set it in front of him. “This will warm you up, too.”

  His stomach growled upon seeing the food. He picked up a spoon and started tucking in.

  Freddy huffed a laugh. “I was worried, for a moment, when the door opened it was going to be your grandfather, Mr. Young.”

  The stew in Marcus’s mouth suddenly felt as tasteless as sawdust. He swallowed it, his throat going dry. “Actually, that’s why I came in here.”

  Wilbur sat back from his empty bowl and then hissed at Freddy. “See. I told you we needed to settle down.” Then he leaned in and met eyes with Marcus. “You think we should leave? Head back to the bunkhouse.”

  Slowly, Marcus nodded. “I’m sorry to say yes. I know that Grandfather is only going to get grumpier until you do.”

  Without another word, the two men got up from their seats and set their bowls in the scullery sink. With sad eyes, the maid also turned to the sink and began washing. The two cowboys slipped out the door with a nod and a wave and then the kitchen drew quiet with the exception of the maid who scrubbed the dishes.

  Loneliness settled over Marcus, though it wasn’t the first time. The main ranch house was much too big for just him and his grandfather. It echoed only with the quiet work of the few servants they had. And grandfather always preferred for them to work silently and be invisible. Marcus let out a slow breath and began eating his tasteless, but warm, stew. He remembered the days when the house was filled with the love of his mother and father and older sister. But all of that left when the family had been caught in a blizzard in Colorado territory. He’d only been eight years old at the time. But he lost all three of them in one fell swoop. He’d barely survived, himself, only to be sent back to his Grandfather’s ranch to live alone the past fourteen years with a man who seemed almost on the verge of hating him.

  He let out a slow breath. Hate was too strong a word. But without question, the elder Mr. Young liked to have complete control over everything. The ranch, the servants, the house... and yes, Marcus. The moment he finished his bowl, the scullery maid was at his elbow. “Would you like another, sir?”

  Marcus shook his head and stood while the maid picked up the bowl. Then he headed up the stairs of the lonely old house and to his bedroom where darkness surrounded him and only added to the loneliness he had weighing down on him.

  Chapter 4

  The next evening, Bethany looked for Milly, but the girl from the boarding house never returned. Finally, she called to a nurse. “Do you know if my friend, the one who was here yesterday, Milly—do you know if she’s been in to pay for my hospital bill?”

  The nurse’s brow furrowed. “Hospital bill? Miss... you’ve been marked as an indigent case. No immediate family, no guardian. That means that the Presbyterian church next door has become your guardian. They are paying for your stay and care.”

  “That’s my church. I know them.” She blinked. “But my friend... Milly... She said... said that I had bills.”

  Slowly the nurse shook her head. “I’m afraid that your friend was mistaken.”

  The blood drained from Bethany’s face as she came to the realization that Milly was no friend. She pushed the covers back from over her legs and swung them over the side of the bed. Her pale white skin was covered with bruises and the muscles ached, but she’d been blessed with no broken bones. Apparently, the biggest part of her injury was the head trauma she’d endured. Even now her head throbbed with pain and she felt the slightest bit dizzy from sitting up.

  “What are you doing?” the nurse whispered harshly. “The doctor said that you needed to remain at rest!”

  “I’ll never get out of this hospital if I don’t at least start trying to do things on my own.” Bethany peered up at the woman.

  The woman had her hands on her hips. “I’d prefer if you wait until the doctor tells you that you can do this. You can’t go making these kinds of decisions on your own. Only just yesterday, you were still in a sleep state. You’ll regret it if you push yourself too far.”

  “Fine,” Bethany said with a frown. “I’ll just stand. For a few seconds. Then I’ll lay back down.”

  The nurse shook her head, but said, “Fine.”

  It never occurred to Bethany ho
w hard the act of standing could be before. She gripped her bedpost, and on wobbly legs, she struggled to stand. And it was a struggle... a knockdown drag-on fight, just to get her muscles in her legs to do what she wanted. By the time she got her weight on her feet, she still leaned against the bedpost, her muscles quaking, her heart racing, and her breath coming out in pants. Perspiration beaded on her forehead. She felt as though she’d just run a mile in the action of pulling herself up.

  Dizziness returned, along with dark spots crowding her vision. When she closed her eyes to calm herself, stars popped behind her eyelids. This was going far worse than she’d imagined. Before she started, she’d imagined herself walking out the door and heading to the boarding house and seeing just what was going on with Milly, the eighty dollars Bethany had saved, and even her job at the sweatshop. But now, all she wanted to do was collapse back down in the bed and give up. No. She wouldn’t do that. Instead, with her eyes closed, she began to count down from ten. She could do that much. Ten... Nine...

  “Don’t you think you’ve had quite enough, Ms. Campbell?” the nurse’s harsh whisper broke through.

  But Bethany wouldn’t let the words break her concentration. Six... Five...

  The nurse huffed, and Bethany could swear she heard the woman’s toe tapping.

  Three... Two... Bethany finally opened her eyes. The black spots were gone but the dizziness hadn’t gone away. At least it had receded enough that she could stand there while holding the bedpost. Slowly, she released the death grip she had on the headboard and straightened just a bit, her hand still on the cold metal. One. Then she lowered herself down on the bed, sitting there for a long moment, allowing her heart to slow before she turned and worked to lie back down in the bed.

  “Nonsense, I tell you. Utter nonsense.” The nurse began pulling the blanket up over Bethany and helping her get tucked in once more.

  Bethany was thankful for the help because the exhaustion that overcame her at such a small exertion made it so that she wasn’t sure she could have done it for herself. She purposefully slowed her breathing to keep the nurse from having one more thing to complain about.

  “Well. I hope you’ve learned your lesson. Now lie there and rest as you should until the doctor says that you are ready to leave. Then you can get up and walk out of here for all I care.” Humphing, the nurse turned on her heel and marched out the door as if there were no other patients in the wide common area except for Bethany.

  Bethany just lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the coughs, snores, and murmuring from the other beds around her. If she wanted to get out of here and find out what had happened to Milly... the money... Bethany’s life… she was going to need to get stronger quickly. Her mother had always taught her that weakness was only overcome by working hard and getting stronger. Her body felt weak right now, but if she kept working at it, it wouldn’t stay weak for long. She peered at the clock that hung on the wall across from her. It was only four in the afternoon. Later that night, in the cover of darkness, Bethany determined that she would try to stand again. This time, with no nurse around to tell her to stop. She’d try to go for fifteen seconds. Maybe if she was doing well, she’d practice a step or two. Either way. She needed to get strong as fast as she could. She needed to find out what was going on.

  Marcus woke the next morning and found a gathering of people at the bottom of the stairs. Three of the cowboys, all of the servants, and even the sheriff stood in the doorway of the parlor. Even though his feet were bare, he was fully dressed as he came down the stairs. His brow furrowed as he found Wilbur glancing up at him. Wilbur backed away from the crowd and met him at the bottom of the stairs. Marcus frowned. “What’s going on?”

  His eyes were wide as though he was taking in what Marcus’s reaction might be. “Your grandfather passed away in the night. He was sitting in his favorite chair, a pipe still in his hand.”

  Marcus blinked several times and shook his head. His heart sank in his chest and his stomach twisted. “What? No. He was fine when I left him last night. He was in perfect health... wasn’t he? How... How could this be?”

  Wilbur’s face was grave. “The doctor said he wasn’t in perfect health at all. He’d been telling him for a while to get his affairs in order because he didn’t have long left to live.” Then Wilbur looked around, leaned in and whispered to Marcus as if he was afraid someone might hear, “He had the cancer.”

  Marcus blinked hard. “Are you certain? He’d never said a word to me about it. Grandfather never left the house, and I’d never even seen the doctor come and visit him.”

  “According to the maids, the doctor only came when you were out working away from the ranch. He also forced them to swear to keep it a secret from you.”

  A lump formed in Marcus’s throat. He swallowed against it before asking, “Why?”

  From his other side, a throat cleared and a deep voice said, “Because he didn’t want you to see him in his weakness. He was determined to be strong and in control of all things until the end.” The doctor shook his head. “I suppose he got what he wanted.”

  The blood drained from Marcus’s face, and he felt as though he might keel over. Dizziness overcame him. Somehow, hearing it from the doctor made it more real. He sat down on the steps and covered his face with his hands. Tears stung the backs of his eyes. Yes, his grandfather was a hard man and a controlling one, but he was still Marcus’s grandfather and the only family he had. He was still the one who raised him since he was eight years old. No matter what, his grandfather had been there for him. He let out a slow breath and swiped at his eyes. Then he swallowed hard and looked up. “I guess I need to start making funeral arrangements then?”

  “Already done,” another deep, male voice said as Mr. Brown, his grandfather’s lawyer stepped up, pulling off the hat he wore. “Your grandfather was already prepared to leave this world. He knew that his time was coming soon, no matter how strong he tried to appear in front of you, his grandson.”

  Marcus’s jaw dropped. He shook his head. “Is there anything I should do then? Something to help?”

  The lawyer pulled in a deep breath and then let it out in a sigh. “Yes. There’s something I need to discuss with you. If we could meet in your grandfather’s study?”

  Chapter 5

  Marcus didn’t often come into his grandfather’s study. As a child, he’d never been permitted to. As an adult, he’d respected it as his grandfather’s sanctuary, knowing that he only came into the room when invited or if he had a great emergency that could not possibly wait. None of those emergencies ever came up, and his grandfather had only called him in there a grand total of twice. This was his third time ever entering the room. Books lined the walls, bindings of different colors and heights. He wondered if one man could possibly read all of these books in a lifetime. How many had his grandfather read?

  “Have a seat here,” the lawyer ordered Marcus.

  Marcus swallowed hard and did as he was told. At the moment, he felt like a child again. He felt as though he was doing something he shouldn’t by entering this space. But his grandfather wasn’t around anymore. He needed to get used to that idea. The lawyer remained standing and set down a book full of papers on the side of Grandfather’s desk. Then he shuffled through the book and pulled out one paper.

  “I have some very important news to share with you, so you’ll need to listen carefully. Please hold your questions until I’m finished reading this section of your grandfather’s last will and testament. Can you do that for me?”

  Slowly, Marcus nodded.

  “Good. Here’s what he dictated to me. ‘And the rest of my estate, the ranch, and all else that I own will go to my only living relative, Marcus Young, upon the day of his wedding to Claudia Stewart or if Claudia should deny him, another good woman of Scottish bloodline so as to further our heritage in the cattle business here in Oklahoma. If, however, my grandson fails to marry a good woman within thirty days of my death, I will bequeath my full fortune
including the estate to the Church of Scotland....” the lawyer continued to say more, but Marcus couldn’t hear him past the ringing in his ears.

  In all this time, he’d never thought about what would happen if his grandfather should die. Grandfather had always been in perfect health—or so it seemed. He was fiery and full of spunk. How could Marcus even imagine for a moment that the elder Young would die so soon. Marcus was only twenty-two. He wasn’t yet ready to head a ranch. Trail Boss and foreman were jobs enough for him. How could he do all the paperwork required. How could he make sure all of the servants and everyone were paid?

  “...including but not limited to the sale of the ranch for funds to send back to the Church of Scotland and the laying off of all employees.”

  Marcus held up a hand. “Wait. Did you just say the ranch would be sold and all the workers would be out on their ears?”

  His lips drawing thin, Mr. Brown, the lawyer nodded. “That’s the gist of it.”

  “So then you’re telling me that I need to marry Miss Claudia Stewart within thirty days if I want to keep that from happening.”

  “Yes.”

  Marcus bit down on his lip. How could his grandfather do this to him? To everyone on the ranch who relied on it for their income. It was the twentieth of November. In thirty days, it would be nearly Christmas. Could his grandfather really have meant to do this to all of the ranch hands and servants right before the holidays? Certainly not. “Are you sure there isn’t a way to grant an extension of some kind? It would be a cruel thing to do that to these workers right before Christmas, don’t you think?”

  The frown on the lawyer’s face deepened. “It doesn’t matter what I think or believe. I have to abide by your grandfather’s final wishes as described in his last will and testament. That means that no matter what time of year it was when your grandfather passed on, I am required to read you this will immediately and then make sure that you fulfill the terms.”