Mail Order Bride - Westward Secrets: A Clean Cowboy Romance Novel (Montana Mail Order Brides Book 13) (26 page)

BOOK: Mail Order Bride - Westward Secrets: A Clean Cowboy Romance Novel (Montana Mail Order Brides Book 13)
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              I also know that Chloe is going to be very angry with me.  Please explain this in terms that she will understand.  Let her know that she is very dear to me and I would never hurt her if it wasn’t necessary for me to do this.  Hug both of them for me and tell them how much I love them.

              Lastly, please know that I will think of you every minute of every day and, even though we are apart, my love for you will still grow.  I pray that my dreams will be of all of you and not the darkness.  I will be remembering all of the special times we had together and of being in your arms, making love with you.  You will all be forever in my mind and in my heart.

 

Love always,

 

Rick

 

              Gina placed the letter on her bureau and let the tears come.  His letter was beautiful and sad and touching.  As she’d read it, Gina could clearly hear his voice in her head and she ached to see him.  Where was he going?  What did he mean about going back in order to move forward?  He said that Randall had said it to him.  Maybe Randall would know.  Gina had to know.  She wiped her face, getting rid of the tears that had fallen, and went in search of the butler. 

              Randall was in the kitchen going over the menu for the next day with Addie when Gina entered the kitchen.

              “Ah, Gina,” he said with a smile.  “How are you?”

              “Terrible,” Gina said honestly.

              Addie went to give Gina a hug.  “It will get better a little each day, child.”

              “Thank you, Addie,” Gina said.  “Randall, do you know where Rick has gone?”

              “Gone?  I did not know he was going anywhere,” Randall said.

              Gina could see that Randall was telling the truth and told them about Rick’s letter.  “He said that you told him that he had to go back in order to go forward.  What does that mean?”

              Randall sat down on a chair and mulled it over.  After several moments, he sighed and rubbed his forehead.  “I have a suspicion that he took me quite literally.  Perhaps I am wrong, but I believe he has literally gone back to where it all started.”

              Gina’s eyes widened.  “Do you really think he would go back to Canada?”

              Randall held her gaze and replied, “I think it’s a distinct possibility.  I told him he must face the problem. Perhaps he thought it best to go back there to do just that.”

              “That’s far away.  He’s going to be gone a long time,” Gina said.  “I don’t know that I can do what he’s asking.  He wants me to wait for him, but my trust is broken.  For my children, if not for me, I can’t keep opening them up to be hurt like this.  It’s not right to do that to them.”

              Randall nodded.  “That is a decision you must make for them and for yourself.  Do not make the decision hastily.  Give it careful consideration, Gina.”

              She nodded and left the kitchen.

              Randall and Addie shared a sad look and Randall said, “She is going to need us, Addie.”

              “Yes.  We will be here for her.  Not to worry.”

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

              The deep, powdery snow hindered Rick’s progress across the brilliant, white landscape, but he doggedly trudged along, never wavering from his goal.  His leg muscles burned and he couldn’t feel his feet, but still he kept moving.  British Columbia had experienced two blizzards and the heavy snowfall made traveling an arduous undertaking, even with snowshoes. 

              He’d made it to Prince George and, though it had increased in size since he’d been there, Rick recognized many of the landmarks.  However, he felt no sense of homecoming, only dread for what lay ahead.  He was relieved to be close to his destination after traveling for almost a month.  The date of the day he and Gina were to get married had passed and it filled Rick with sadness that he wasn’t now living with his wife and children. 

              Some days all that kept driving him was his love for them and his determination to face his fears and force himself to push past it all so he could live his life again.  He was as haunted as ever, but he let the memories come, as horrible as they were.  There were days when he was late getting started because he was too shaky and had to wait for it to pass.

              Exhausted, Rick checked into a hotel in Prince George, and, after eating, fell into bed.  Though he slept, the nightmares crowded his mind and he woke feeling as fatigued as when he’d lain down.  The next day, he began the final leg of his journey.  By midafternoon, he’d arrived at the house where he’d spent so many terrible years.

              It was a large, gray stone house that had once been very beautiful.  As Rick looked over it, he could see the neglect and damage to the house.  He noted that there were no tracks in the snow and the walkway hadn’t been shoveled at all.  Apparently it was abandoned.  For a long time, Rick just stood and looked at the house, unable to go inside.

              After a time, he gathered his courage, Randall’s words echoing in his mind, and climbed the steps onto the porch.  Reaching the front door, Rick placed his hand on the doorknob and closed his eyes.  He remembered dreading coming home each day after school.  Every day, Rick tried to stay away from the hated woman he was supposed to call a mother as long as he could.

              He turned the knob and opened the door.  He stepped inside and flashes of awful scenes came to him.  He forced himself past the foyer, entering the hallway that led to the parlor.  On his right side, situated under the stairs leading to the second story, was the closet in which his mother used to lock him.  He opened the door and the memories of how he used to fight her, screaming that he was sorry and begging her not to lock him in there again, flooded his mind.

              He felt again the slaps she gave him for defying her and felt his body hit the wall inside the closet when she roughly shoved him inside.  The darkness.  How he’d hated the darkness that enveloped him when she shut the door and locked it.  His hands had become bloodied because he pounded on the door so hard and for so long.

              A sob escaped Rick as he remembered the hunger that had eaten away at him because she didn’t feed him, how dry and scratchy his throat was from lack of water, and the embarrassment and shame that came from having nowhere to relieve himself.  Janine had known just how long to leave him in there before he would die of lack of water and food.

              Then she would let him out and beat him for making such a mess in the closet.  He’d had to clean it, crying the whole time.  Rick didn’t bother going to the basement because it was only more of the same.  The darkness.  Always the darkness. 

              The kitchen held more bleak memories of being fed horrible food but having to eat it because there was nothing else.  She would torture him by cooking delicious food but not letting him eat it.  Rick used to often eat supper at friends’ houses so he had a decent meal at least once a day.  It was no wonder that he’d been somewhat scrawny as a kid and picked on as a result.  He’d been an easy target due to malnutrition.  It had spurred him to learn how to fight, to be lethal in order to protect himself.

              Turning away from the kitchen, Rick began to panic as he moved towards the parlor.  His breath came in rapid, shallow pants and he broke out in a cold sweat.  Using Randall’s words to give him courage and hope, he walked into the room.  Immediately the bright flash of light and intense pain burst inside his head and he dropped to all fours.

              The scene of the day he’d murdered his mother began to unfold in his mind and he heard every cruel word and his pleas for her to stop.  Rick felt every blow from the riding crop and the terror gripped him once again as he saw the hatred and insanity in her eyes.  His mouth twisted into a snarl as rage consumed him and, in his mind, his twelve-year-old self reached for the fire poker behind him.

              His hand had closed around the cold metal and he’d lifted the weapon without her seeing it.  She’d been in such a rage that she didn’t notice his furtive movement.  Getting a good grip on it, Rick waited.  When she swung the crop again, Rick had blocked its path with his left forearm and swung the poker as hard as he could. 

It had caught her in on the left side of her head and she’d reeled backwards.  He’d followed it up with a second blow and she’d fallen to the floor, a look of pain and shock in her crazed eyes.  The sharp pain in Rick’s head intensified and he cried out because it was so great.  Still he forced himself to remember, to break through the barrier in his brain that he’d kept in place for so long.  Joy.  There had been joy surging through him as he’d continued his assault on her.  He'd kept on past the point he needed to.  She was dead and still he could not stop until sheer exhaustion forced him to.

Rick remembered staggering away from her to a corner and sagging down onto the floor.  That was when he’d passed out, not waking until Emery had woken him and taken care of him.  Rick panted and shook as the memories held him in an iron grip.  Then, in small increments, it began to fade, the pain in his head subsided to a dull ache.  Still weak and shaking hard, Rick crawled over to a wall and sat up against it.

Emery.  He’d been the only bright spot in his life and he missed the man who’d been a father to him immensely.  Rick put his head down and cried for the loss of him.  He’d been a remarkable man who’d loved Rick when he didn’t have to, protected him, cared for him, and gave him a wonderful, unique ten years filled with memories of all the exotic places they’d traveled and the friends they’d made along the way.

When his tears abated, Rick gathered his strength.  There was one last thing he needed to do.  He trekked through what had been the backyard to the woods beyond it.  Though it lay under a thick blanket of snow, Rick knew exactly where the grave was.  He carried a full vodka bottle with him.

He cleared away the snow as well as he could without a shovel until he could see a small patch of ground.  As he uncorked the bottle and poured the contents onto the ground, he said, “You have no more power over me, Mother.  You can’t hurt me anymore and you’re not going to keep me from being happy with the woman I love, or at least sane even if Gina won’t take me back.  I hope you rot in hell because that’s where you belong.”

Rick looked at the empty bottle and suddenly hurled it down on the frozen ground with such force that it broke.  It was a satisfying sound that further soothed Rick’s mind.  After inhaling a great breath of the clean, crisp air, he moved away from the grave, leaving behind the pain, fear, and anger, ready now to get on with the rest of his life.

 

              The March winds howled through the trees and buffeted houses and barns as it swept across the land.  Rick led his tired horse up the lane that led to his house.  The sight of it was very moving and he smiled as he arrived.  He put the horse in the small barn.  Immediately after that, he ran to the little house and went quickly inside.  Running across the floor, he opened the back door and whistled. 

              Seven ferrets came out and Rick was surprised at how big the kits had gotten.  He went down on his knees as the furry creatures bounced against him and made the dooking noises that he had missed so much.  He picked up each one, talking to them and cuddling them.  Then he put them back, promising to play with them later.

              He continued to reunite with the rest of his animals, scratching Stan’s back, petting the burros and llamas and whistling to some of his bird friends that had miraculously not forgotten him.  The skunks were slow in coming out of their house because they were hibernating, but Rick coaxed them with some food and they came meandering slowly from their warm abode.  He petted their sleek coats and played with them much the same way he did the ferrets.

              Then he looked up at the big house further along the path and strode towards it purposefully.  He went inside and walked straight to the kitchen.  His heart sank as he saw the black ring box sitting on the counter.  A piece of paper lay underneath it. 

             
I hope you found the peace you were looking for.  I’m sorry, Rick, but I just can’t.

              Tears stung his eyes and he pounded on the counter in frustration. 
I went through too much, traveled too far to give up now.  I’m going to prove to her that she can count on me now.  Her and my little people.  No, I’m not done, not by a long shot.

              Rick pocketed the ring box and set out for town so he could rent a horse.  It took a while to get there, but he never wavered, his mission clearly outlined in his mind.  Nothing was going to prevent him from what he had to do.  Upon reaching the stable, Rick was greeted by Stew, the stable hand.

              “Hi, Rick.  Geez, I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age.  Where ya been hidin’ yourself?” he said with a smile.

              “Canada.  I had some business to take care of.  It’s good to see you, Stew.”

              “Canada, huh?  Must have been important to travel at this time of year,” Stew said.

              “You have no idea how important.  I need to rent a horse.  Mine is all tuckered out.  I just got home a little while ago.”

              “Oh, sure.  I’ll get Mayhem saddled for you.  I’ll be right back,” Stew responded and went off to ready the horse.

              As Rick waited, he looked out the stable door at the town that had become home to him.  He smiled as he recognized some of the people there.  Looking down, he saw Curtis peeking out of his pocket and grinned.  How he’d missed his buddy!  Rick scratched behind Curtis’ ears and then told the ferret to get back in his pocket.

              Stew brought Mayhem to him and he mounted carefully.  As he rode through town, Rick was stopped repeatedly by people who welcomed him back.  He encountered Jack, who was riding in the opposite direction.  The younger man was out on patrol.

              “Uncle Rick?  Holy hell!  You’re back!”  Jack would have hugged him, but there was no way to reach Rick since they were mounted.  Jack settled for shaking Rick’s hand and clapping his shoulder.

              “You’re a sight for sore eyes, young Jack,” Rick said with a grin.  “How are you?”

              “Great.  We’re expecting,” Jack said, beaming.

              “Congratulations!  Tell Sparrow I said so.  Fantastic.”

              “Thanks.  We’re excited,” Jack said.

              Rick nodded.  “So I’ll bet little Mathew Taylor is getting big, huh?”

              “Oh yeah.  He’s a cute baby.”

              “Did Mitch hire another deputy?” Rick asked.

              “Nope.  Not yet,” Jack said sheepishly.  “Couldn’t find anyone he liked.”

              “Good.  Tell him I’ll be back on the job tomorrow.  I cleared away a lot of the bats in my belfry and I’m better than ever,” Rick said.  “Right now, I’ve got something very important to do.  See you tomorrow, Jack.”

              “I’ll tell him.  I don’t know what he’s gonna say to that, but I’ll be glad to have you back.  See ya tomorrow.”

              Rick gave Jack a nod and continued out of town.  He moved the horse into a trot.  A mile down the road, he heard hoof beats moving at a canter coming up behind him.  Turning in the saddle, Rick recognized Hamlet and let out a curse.  He hadn’t wanted to meet up with Joe just yet.

              Joe drew alongside him and just looked at him a moment. 

              “Howdy, Joe.  It’s good to see you again.  I missed playing poker with you at three in the morning when I was drunk and drugged up,” Rick said.

              “You’re back,” Joe responded.

              “Yep.  Unless, of course, it’s you losing your mind this time and I’m a figment of your imagination.”

              “Why?”

              “Why am I a figment of your imagination?  I thought I just explained that.”

              Joe pursed his lips in annoyance.  “No, why are you back?”

              “I live here, remember?  I know it’s been a while, boss, but come on.”

              “Don’t you be smart with me, Rick.  Where do you think you’re going?” Joe demanded as Rick began moving again. 

              “To see Gina, where else?”

              “Oh, no, you’re not,” Joe said as he moved Hamlet in front of Mayhem.

BOOK: Mail Order Bride - Westward Secrets: A Clean Cowboy Romance Novel (Montana Mail Order Brides Book 13)
13.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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