The Redemption of Rachel: Companion Book Two: The Cattlman's Daughters Read online

  Chapter 8

  "It don't look too good," Deeks said as he sat at his table sipping coffee with Rachel that night. "Josh is laid up. Bianca says he done had a stroke." He ran a grizzled hand over his worried face. "I don't know what will happen, an' when Mae finds out she's still goin' to Boston for school, it ain't gonna be pretty." He shook his head, feeling old and more tired than he could remember. It tore at his heart to see his old friend bedridden.

  Rachel looked at the old man who'd taken her in. She'd never understood why he'd done that. He asked almost nothing of her and he certainly wasn't looking for a real wife. At first she'd despised him for bringing her here. She should have just died in Casper all those months ago. She didn't belong here; she had no place, no purpose. She was all used up inside and just didn't care. Then somewhere along the way something in the air, or maybe the quiet of the place, started to seep into her bones, like the warmth of the sun after a cold night.

  Under the table her bare toes curled as if trying to dig into the black earth of the prairie. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine the smell of the deep loamy soil. The smell of constancy, or truth. The earth was real, pure, clean, healing and somehow it had worked a miracle on her. The bright Wyoming sky hadn't just bronzed her skin, it had wriggled its way inside her, bringing light to her blighted soul.

  Rachel couldn't truly understand the changes that were taking place inside her, but she knew the rock hard wall she'd created around her heart was crumbling and for once she couldn't seem to find the energy to repair it.

  For a moment she looked across the table at the man she was legally married to and did something that surprised even her. She reached out a slim, callused hand and laid it over his wide, fire-scarred fingers. It was only for a few moments, and then she stood and walked out into the night, her bare feet making no sound in the dew-damp grass.

  Davrum Deeks sat, too stunned to drink his coffee. If he didn't know any better, he’d say that Rachel had just shown compassion.

  "I heard there's some trouble among the love birds," she said as she recoiled the rope and hung it on a peg in the wall a few days later.

  Deeks still felt he was crazy for going along with her notion for fixing his back, but he did it. It didn't seem to be doing any harm. "What?" He questioned looking at her suspiciously.

  "I was out in the garden last night and heard that young couple that just got married squabbling about the round-up."

  "Isabella and Taylor." Deeks said knowingly. That would explain why they seemed out of sorts at breakfast this morning. He ran a hand behind his neck. "I guess everyone has some trouble settling in when they get hitched," he commented casually, and was surprised to see Rachel smile.

  "Marry in haste, repent at leisure," she said, patting him on the arm as she turned toward the door and headed back out to the garden. It seemed that she spent most of her time digging in the dirt anymore.

  Deeks smiled, somewhere along the way something was changing in Rachel. He cast his eyes toward the ceiling, then turning his palms up, shrugged his shoulders and headed back to the forge. Round-up was a busy time, and with the sawmill and plans for yet another house on the way, he needed more nails than ever.

  There were sure to be horses that needed shoes replaced before the long drive to Casper, not to mention the usual repairs around the ranch. He was pleased that Eric was interested in blacksmith work and let the boy come in and help him at times. He ran a hand through his hair; again things sure were changing around this place. Mae was gone, Josh was trying to regain his strength, and Clay and Meg were back east again.

  "Well one thing you can count on," the old blacksmith said, "that's change." With a grin, he picked up his hammer and began pounding out the day’s work.

  "You sure you'll be alright?" he asked for the third time as he packed his gunny sack for the trip to Casper.

  "Davrum, I'll be fine," Rachel repeated also for the third time, but this time she leaned toward him, hands propped on her hips.

  He couldn't help but grin. "Well, if you need anything you go on up to the house and ask."

  The woman before him raised one pale eyebrow. "Why don't you worry about keeping yourself in one piece as you chase cows to town?" Her retort was wry.

  Deeks wasn't sure when it happened, but somewhere over the past year the silent companionship he and Rachel had developed had become more. He felt an affection for the woman he lived with. She was still taciturn at times, and could slip into a dark mood for no apparent reason, but he'd come to appreciate her ability to puzzle things out and to try to do something new. She'd certainly helped him with his back, which hurt less than it had in many years.

  The old blacksmith smiled at her and pushed a hank of her silver and gold hair away from her face. She never wore her hair up and he didn't mind. It was as if by refusing that convention she'd let something go and moved toward freedom.

  Something flickered in Rachel's bright blue eyes and for a moment he thought he'd done something wrong. Then to his great surprise she stood up on bare, earth stained toes and kissed him on the cheek. "You'd better get going," she added quietly as she walked back into the early dawn of a new day.

  Rachel Deeks looked up at the last stars just leaving the sky as the sun crept over the horizon. She took a deep breath of fresh, summer, morning air and sighed. Closing her eyes, she turned her whole body toward the warmth of the rising sun. She'd observed the plants in her garden do the same thing and thrilled every time soft fingers of light caressed her skin. She couldn’t have ever imagined the power of the sun.

  Opening her eyes Rachel watched as the blood red sky turned to gold. A shiver rolled over her skin as she saw not a sun rise but a second chance. Blood, doom and darkness were forced away by the rising of the golden orb, burned away by its purifying light. The bright rays of a new born day bringing hope to a lost world. A tear pricked at her eyes and she swallowed hard to force the feelings away. Her soul clawed at the tattered wall she'd built around her whole being. It cried for release, it called out for salvation and finally she could see it.

  God had not turned his back on her because she'd never known who He was, and right here, right this moment as the warmth of the life-giving sun rose, bathing her in light, she realized all she had to do was reach out and accept the gift it offered her. Crumpling to the damp earth she sobbed. Silently she raged at all the wrong she'd suffered, all the pain and betrayal she'd endured, and grasped for hope and was reborn even as the day burst forth on the earth.

  She didn’t know how long she stayed there, but finally she rose, like the little flowers in her garden after a hard rain. She’d been shocked and dismayed when the first heavy rains had beaten down the tiny purple buds, battering them with mud. She’d been sure they were ruined forever, but the next day they’d risen, lifting their bright faces to the sun, and she did the same.

  It was surprising how much Rachel missed the old blacksmith even while enjoying her solitude. She kept busy, pondering the slow gentle changes that seemed to be creeping over her. Where before she'd found peace in working in the earth, now she found strength; where she'd sought silence, she now looked for sound, smiling at the birds singing in the trees or the noise of the dogs romping in the back yard.

  Instead of simply tending the gardens, she began harvesting the produce that was ready, leaving her large bushel baskets, brimming with ripe vegetables, on the back porch of the house to be collected by the other women. For over a year she'd watched the cattleman's daughters with their spouses and scoffed at their foolish bent for putting their lives into a man's unworthy hands, but now she saw something else. Joy, love, laughter. Although she knew how some of the girls had struggled through issues with the young men in their lives, somehow they had also found something special.

  She was in her own private little garden as the afternoon sun passed the noon-time hour. The men had been gone on the cattle drive for just over a day and a sultry silence had settled over the ranch. Only the ordinary sounds of
chickens scratching for food and the noises of the large brown milk cows in their fence at the back of the barn could be heard.

  Rachel knew that the others were all busy having lunch, but being on her own meant she could keep to her own schedule. She loved the feeling of independence that brought.

  Molly, the old cur dog that belonged to the boy called Taylor, yipped from her small hut at the back of the bunk house as the sound of horses approaching filled the air. Moments later, the hair on the back of Rachel's neck stood up as a cold shiver ran down her spine at the sound of an all too familiar snarled voice; a voice that didn't belong anywhere near the Broken J.

  "Well, what do we have here?" the man's voice drawled, carried around the side of the house by a light breeze. “Seems like everyone plumb up an' left on that there round-up, leavin’ all you on your own."

  Rachel hefted her shovel and turned toward the sound. Perhaps seeing a familiar face would put the man off whatever he'd come from. Squinting into the blue heavens above, she let hope slow her racing heart and stepped out into the dry grass of the ranch yard.

  Rachel stepped around the corner of the house and without hesitation started up the ramp that had been installed where the old railing had once been. Letting out a silent breath, she let her body relax into the long swaying walk she'd once used so well.

  "That you Mayhew?" she asked, a slow smile sliding across her thin lips. "I thought I heard your dulcet tones." Her face softened and her hips swung in an easy rhythm as she stepped closer.

  “Dusty? That you under all them skirts?” the man asked, his smirk widening.

  “Now aren't you a sight for sore eyes,” Ray said, smiling brightly. “I hope you came here to take me away from these do-gooders, Mayhew. I'm about fed up with their sweet innocence. I've just been waiting for the right time to get away.” Her smile had brightened and her eyes twinkled at the leader of the little gang as she approached.

  “Why Dusty, you must have a story to tell. Gibbs at the Sparrow’s Blade thinks you're dead.”

  A flicker of something that looked like anger raced across the woman's face and her bottle blue eyes sparked, but she pushed it away with a flick of her silver and gold hair as she tossed it over her shoulder. She couldn't afford to give anything away.

  The three outlaws, guns in hand, had the drop on the two young farmers and the woman of the house. Rachel smiled again, her voice taking on a husky quality as she laughed softly and stepped closer.

  Watching the play between their boss and the new woman, the other two men smirked and looked at each other, over-confidence causing them to drop their guard a little.

  The sudden clunk and thump of the shovel making contact with the skull of the outlaw leader shook every person present, but allowed Reg and Taylor to spring into action. Swiping the guns away from the other two men, they delivered several solid punches until the two outlaws crumpled to the porch floor to join their leader, who lay in a heap before them.

  Bianca Leoné stood on the porch in shock, trying to put everything that had just happened together, then with a lunge she threw her arms around the woman she'd only ever known as Ray. “Thank you, thank you,” she gushed. Tears of shame springing to her eyes. “You saved us all.”

  “It's all right, honey,” the other woman said, her blue eyes bright, "glad I could help.”

  When the round-up crew returned from Casper it was to a changed Broken J.

  Rachel Deeks, face shining, met Davrum with a gentle kiss on the cheek, and a genuine laugh. She'd come out of the big ranch house with Bianca, chattering about the adventures they'd shared and wondering at how fortunate they'd been in escaping the clutches of the three outlaws who'd tried to take the ranch.

  Joshua met them at the front step, happy to see his family re-united again.

  That night in their apartment, as they sat over coffee, Davrum looked at Rachel and saw something different. He didn't press her for information, he was just grateful to see her happy. For a long time they sat in companionable silence and then she began to speak.

  "Davrum," she began, "I've never properly thanked you for bringing me out here." She smiled wistfully. "Actually some days I even cursed you for saving me and bringing me to this godforsaken place."

  Deeks eyes grew wide, he'd thought he'd done something good in saving the woman's life.

  Rachel reached a hand across the table and laid it on his. "I didn't see any point in going on living then," she said softly. "I just wanted it to all be over." She paused again. "But then something changed. At first I thought it was just being free from my own life. Somehow I didn't want to die anymore."

  Deeks squeezed her small, callused hand in his, but waited for her to finish.

  "I'd never done anything for myself before. I didn't know how to take care of myself, or even survive on my own. When you gave me that little garden, all I wanted was to be able to smell the earth, and remember my childhood, but then I started growing things. I watched new life spring from nothing like magic." She was quiet for a long time again before continuing.

  "Somehow that little patch of dirt got inside me; it gave me hope, confidence, purpose. It took a long time but pretty soon I realized that we all go through bad times, we all do wrong. Some maybe worse than others, but we're all made the same and all have the same needs in the end. I started to lose that bitterness and anger I'd built up around my heart. I started to live, just like one of those little seeds sprouting form the warm earth and feeling the sun for the first time."

  The old blacksmith swallowed the lump in his throat as his wife continued.

  "I realize that just because I was shut up in darkness all that time didn't mean that the sun didn't exist, it just meant that I needed someone to tend the soil of my soul long enough to let it reach the light." Rachel turned her sharp blue eyes on him. "You did that for me and I have to say I love you for it." A soft smile played at her lips as she looked at the man who'd save her life.

  A solitary tear rolled down Davrum Deeks’ cheek, but he smiled and reached his other hand toward the woman across the table to him. Somehow over the year he'd shared his life with her, he'd grown accustomed to her face and he realized that he'd taken her not only into his home but into his heart.

  Rachel released his hands and stood from the table, then walked around to his side as he gained his feet. Silently she wrapped an arm around him and leaned into his solid form. "We may never have a regular marriage," the woman said, "but what's left of me is all yours."

  Deeks bent his head and for the first time kissed the lips of the woman he called wife. They were two broken down old people but they could still love. Somehow the heart didn't need to be whole to care.

  "I'd be right pleased to have ya." The old blacksmith said with a smile. "I have to say I'm purty fond o' ya," he added with a smile.

  The sound of Rachel's high soprano laughter mingled with his deep chuckle filled the room, and filled their hearts.

  The End

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  About the Author

  Danni Roan, a native of western Pennsylvania, spent her childhood roaming the lush, green mountains on horseback. She has always loved westerns, specifically western romance, and is thrilled to be part of this exciting genre. She has lived and worked overseas with her husband, and tries to incorporate the unique quality of the people she has met throughout the years into her books. Although Danni is a relatively new author on the scene, she has been a story teller for her entire life, even causing her mother to remark that as a child “If she told a story, she had to tell the whole story.” Danni is truly excited about this new adventure in writing and hopes that you will enjoy reading her stories as much as she enjoys writing them.

  You will see more of Rachel in Both Isabella and Alexis: Books four and five of The Cattleman’s Daughters series by Danni Roan