The Cowboy's Orphan Bride

Bat’s voice brought Garth’s mind back to the present and his feet to a stop.

“I know you like this one, Boss,” Bat said. “She’s a good horse, no?”

“Yes,” Garth answered. The big brown horse had three white socks and was one of the best cattle horses he’d ever ridden. “You know a good horse when you see one, Bat. And you are good with them.” The boy deserved the compliment. After helping JoJo all day including gathering an ongoing supply of firewood, the boy visited the remuda each evening, making sure the mounts had all been taken care of. The job hadn’t been assigned to Bat, he’d just taken it upon himself, and Garth had taken notice of that.

“I like horses,” Bat said. “Afore my ma died, I had a black-and-white horse all of my own.”

That was the most the boy had ever said about his past. At least the most Garth had heard. Then again, he’d never asked. He hadn’t this time, either. Bat must have just figured it was time. That’s how it was with orphans. When the time was right, they’d share their past. Usually in bits and pieces.

“It shows you like them,” Garth said. “I appreciate how well you take care of them.”

Bat handed over the rope. “I’ll put on his bridle while you saddle him.”

Garth nodded. Just as he suspected, Bat was done talking about himself. JoJo had never mentioned where he’d found Bat, or how, and Garth hadn’t asked. It hadn’t mattered. Today, with all his own ghosts roaming about in his head, he found himself thankful JoJo had taken Bat in.

“Unless you cain’t see well enough to put on the saddle,” Bat said. “I can do it if you need.”

Garth stepped forward and threw the blanket over the horse’s back. “Can’t see well enough.”

“You cain’t?” Bat asked.

“I can see well enough,” Garth answered, settling the saddle on the horse. “The word is can’t not cain’t. Cain’t isn’t a word.”

“It ain’t?”

Garth grinned and the tightening of the muscles said his face still hurt too bad to go into a lesson right now. The salve JoJo had put on it after scraping off his hide stunk as strongly as it burned. “Run back to camp now,” he said. “I’m sure JoJo has something for you to do. Thanks for gathering my mount.”

“You betcha, Boss,” Bat answered, already hightailing it toward camp.

Once he’d tightened the cinch, Garth couldn’t help but press a hand to the side of his face. The swelling didn’t feel like it had increased, but the hurting sure hadn’t eased. Ignoring it seemed his best, and only, choice, so he mounted and headed toward the herd.

Not in the mood for conversation, he merely gestured for both of the two cowboys riding watch to go to the camp. There were always to be no less than two men with the cattle, but that was his rule, so only he could break it. Another man would ride out before long. As soon as he’d had his fill of eggs and green beans.

As Garth slowly made his way around the circumference of the cattle, he found himself thinking about Bridgette again. Over the years, that had happened more than he’d wanted. Usually when things were slow or he’d find himself alone, often in his bedroll staring at the night sky. He’d wonder if the people who had adopted her were good to her and if she ever thought about him. When he first left Orson’s place he’d contemplated finding out what had happened to her, where she’d been dropped off, but concluded there wasn’t anything he could do if he did know. What Orson had shouted while whipping him had been true. Bridgette was better off without him. He never discovered how Orson knew about her. It could have been Fredrick Fry, considering Fry had said the same thing, but in truth it didn’t matter. As the years went on, he told himself to forget about her, forget about everything that connected him to his past. He had nothing to gain from it.

Malcolm Johansson had told him that a man couldn’t create a future while living in the past, and that’s what Garth wanted. A future. One that held no connection to his past.

It had been over nine years since he’d seen Bridgette. She’d be eighteen now. Could be married. Have children of her own. The idea of that, of her being married, made him crack another grin. She’d been so sad about admitting she was an orphan that day under the oak tree, he’d pretended to perform a ceremony, marrying the two of them so neither of them would be alone. Kids. Life seemed so simple to them.

Not one but two men arrived to take over watching the herd. Garth waved at them as he finished his slow trek around the cattle and then headed back toward camp. His head still hurt. Not just from his injury. It ached from thinking too much.

As he rode into camp, he noticed Bat leading Brad’s horse and scanned the area for the young man. At least his good eye was no longer watering, leaving his limited sight a bit clearer. Sitting cross-legged on the ground, Brad spooned beans and eggs into his mouth as fast as the others had.

“Want me to take your horse back to the others, Boss?” Bat asked.

“No, I’ll ride back out to the herd once more yet this evening.” Garth dismounted and dropped the reins of his horse. Every animal in his remuda was trained to stay where it was left and didn’t spook easy. He put as much effort into training his horses as he did his men.

On his way across the camp, Garth paused long enough to fetch a cup of coffee from JoJo before walking over to sit down next to Brad.

“How’d that go?” he asked, taking a sip of coffee.

“Fine.” Brad swallowed the food in his mouth. “She was real nice, and thankful.”

Although it didn’t matter, Garth couldn’t stop from asking, “What’s her name?”

“I dunno,” Brad said.

“You didn’t ask? She didn’t tell you?”

“Nope. I might’ve but as soon as we got the cow in the barn, the man came out of the house yelling that she was needed. That something was wrong. She took off for the house and I got my rope and skedaddled. That fella’s an ornery one.”

Garth pitched the contents of his coffee cup onto the ground. “You left her there? With the man yelling that something was wrong?”

“She told me to go.”

“Where’s the house?” Garth couldn’t say why that bothered him. He wasn’t one to put his nose in someone else’s business, but his gut was churning and he couldn’t ignore it.

“About five miles northwest,” Brad said. “You want me to go back? See if she’s all right?”

“No,” Garth answered as he stood. “I’ll go.”

“Want me to go with you?” Brad set his plate down.

“No. You’re on duty soon.”

“Just follow the creek,” Brad said. “When it veers east, go west about half a mile. It’s a sod house and a barn that’s about to fall down.”

“I’ll find it,” Garth answered.

JoJo’s frown couldn’t go unnoticed, nor could how the man fell in step beside him. “You think she’s in trouble for giving us the eggs and green beans?”

Garth shrugged as he gathered the reins of his horse.

“I didn’t see that fella earlier,” JoJo said, “only Brad did.”

“I’ll be back.” Garth swung up into the saddle.

“Maybe you oughta take someone with you, with your eyes hurting and all.”

“My eyes are fine.”

“One ain’t,” JoJo supplied.

Garth steered the horse around and headed northwest. He knew damn well one eye wasn’t fine. He couldn’t see it, or see with it. Didn’t need to. The pain told him all he needed to know. Next time he got hurt, he’d stay far away from JoJo. Doctoring was not JoJo’s strong suit, but cooking was, and although Garth hadn’t admitted it, those green beans and eggs had been a much needed change to their diet of late.

As he rode, he wondered about the woman who’d traded the eggs and beans for the cow. And he wondered about Bridgette. Normally, he planned rather than wondered. Bridgette hadn’t. She’d wondered about everything, especially rainbows. How they formed. Why they formed. Where they started and ended. Every time she saw one she was ready to take off in search of discovering the mythical pot of gold. He’d tried to tell her that riches aren’t found, they have to be made, just like the sun makes rainbows. She’d scoffed at that, told him he needed to have more imagination and belief.

He had belief all right. That life wasn’t full of rainbows.