A Cowboy Of Convenience. Stacy Henrie
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and strength had pierced Vienna’s mind and wouldn’t let go. So, for the first time in the two years she’d been married, she finally stood up for herself. She told Chance that she was through, that she would no longer stay in a house with someone who treated her as less valuable than his precious horses.
Chance’s retribution was swift, though not entirely unexpected. He landed a solid slap across her cheek before raging all over again. Vienna steeled herself for another blow, but it never came. Instead her husband marched out the door, disappeared into the barn and rode away a few minutes later.
Vienna waited by the window, her cheek smarting, certain Chance would be back at any moment. The moments stretched to minutes, though, before she realized the opportunity he’d unintentionally presented to her. If she saddled her own mount, she could make good on her vow to ride away from Chance and the HC Bar forever.
The lure of freedom propelled her into action. She went to the barn, which was thankfully devoid of any of their ranch hands, and prepared a horse, but dark thoughts threatened her progress. What if Chance returned before she could get away? What if she got away, but he tracked her down and dragged her back from wherever she went to finish his punishment?
Vienna froze beside the saddled horse. Her heart crashed so hard against her ribs that she could hardly breathe.
She shut her eyes and whispered a prayer. It wasn’t like the others she’d offered in hopes of softening Chance’s heart or becoming a better wife. No, this time she petitioned God for courage and any particle of strength she might possess in order to follow through with her plan—a plan that included providing her unborn baby with a safe and loving home. She also prayed she would make it away unharmed if possible.
With slightly calmer breaths but trembling hands, she’d mounted her horse and rode hard toward the one place she’d hoped she would be safe from Chance—the Running W Ranch, where Maggy was staying and West McCall worked as a foreman. She made it to the ranch without incident, and despite two other attempts by Chance to force her to come home, Vienna had been liberated both times. After that, she’d made a life for herself, and later for Hattie, at the Running W. A life of peace and happiness.
Did she really wish to leave that life now? she wondered as they passed by the HC Bar’s corral. Was she capable of being on her own? Of being strong? Could she live in this place that held so few happy memories?
Her heart sped up with dismay when she viewed the barn and house. Both buildings were in sore need of new paint, and tumbleweeds had taken up residence along their walls. Her once beloved garden was now a sea of weeds. The scene so accurately matched the bleak and lonely emptiness of her short marriage that her chest tightened, and she found herself flinching in preparation for some expected blow.
West’s hand settled on her arm, startling her from her panic. Looking from his strong fingers to his face, she vaguely noted that he’d parked the wagon. He hadn’t spoken much on the drive over, but then, neither had she.
“You’re safe, Vienna,” he said in a low voice, his brown eyes devoid of any levity.
They were the same words he’d murmured to her the night he’d helped rescue her after Chance’s kidnapping. As they had then, they soothed her agitation and fear now.
“Yes, you’re right.” She exhaled slowly and rested her hand on top of his for a moment. Beneath the solid comfort of the friendly gesture, a strange sensation flittered through her stomach—not so unlike the one she’d felt when they had first met.
Vienna twisted on the seat, breaking his hold and ending the bizarre butterflies in her middle. While their interactions were only that of friendly propriety, she’d long thought West McCall handsome with his black curly hair and warm brown eyes. He was thirty, which put him at only five years her senior, and his easygoing personality and kindness were as recommendable as his good looks. The girl who successfully won West’s heart would be blessed indeed.
A prick of regret followed such a thought, surprising Vienna. Setting aside the odd path her thoughts had taken, she waited as West climbed down from the wagon and circled around it to come help her. She could do this—she could make something of this place.
“God hath not given us the spirit of fear,” she reminded herself. It had become her favorite scripture.
“Let’s give the house a closer look first,” she said as West assisted her to the ground. “Then I can figure out what needs to be done to make this place livable again.”
West had never been to the HC Bar Ranch before now. Yet even knowing what a scoundrel Chance Howe had turned out to be, he was impressed at the man’s extensive property. And to think, Vienna’s late husband had owned all of this outright.
Still, the signs of neglect and absence were everywhere. The moderate-sized house featured dusty, cobwebbed furniture, a roof in need of new shingles and a back porch with missing boards. Vienna’s earlier determined look lost more and more of its resolve as she led him through the house.
“Maybe the barn has fared better,” she said with what sounded like false cheer.
West followed her around the broken porch boards and into the yard. But a gaping hole in the barn’s roof and the scratching of tiny claws in one of the stalls told an unpromising story.
“I knew it might need work.” Vienna’s shoulders slumped. “But not this much.”
He lifted his hand to touch her arm as he had on the wagon before remembering how she’d twisted away from him after a moment. Clearly she didn’t wish for more than comforting words right now.
“There is a lot to do,” he said, lowering his arm back to his side. “Both structures appear to be sound, though.”
Vienna shot him a rueful smile. “Sound for whom, West? The mice?” She motioned to the stall where the scurrying noises hadn’t stopped.
“Where are all of your livestock?” he asked as he glanced around the empty barn.
She retreated into the yard. “Gunther Bertram told me this morning at the graveside service that he and Chance had an arrangement that Bertram would care for the horses while Chance was...away. As far as the cattle we used to own, most of them were sold to pay off gambling debts. The rest may have been stolen or they could have wandered off as I suspect the milk cow and the chickens did. I heard Chance had to let our ranch hands go before he left, but I don’t know if they took any of the animals with them or not.”
West moved in the direction of the corral. The fence looked in decent condition. Beyond the house and barn, he spied several empty pastures. There were likely spots that needed fixing along their fence lines, though all in all the necessary repairs to the ranch weren’t as significant as he’d expected after being deserted for three years.
One look at Vienna’s expression told him that she begged to differ. “It’s going to take some time and money, Vienna, but you can get this place up and running again. And you heard what Edward said earlier—there are people willing to help you do it.”
He might not like the idea of her leaving the Running W, but he’d accepted it. If living here was what she wanted, then West would do all in his power to help her.
“It’s not that.” She folded her arms as if chilled, despite the pleasant temperature. “I want a home of my own, for me and Hattie. But even with all of the money I’ve saved, I don’t think I have enough to pay for the repairs and buy more livestock. And even if I choose to give it up and move to town, if I don’t fix up the place, it’s hardly livable and unlikely to sell for a good price.”
He felt the familiar squeeze of his heart at her predicament. “I have some money...” He’d been saving for years for his dude ranch, but he would gladly use it to help Vienna. He owed her that.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I appreciate it,