The outlaws legacy of lo.., p.1
The Outlaw's Legacy of Love: A Historical Western Romance Novel, page 1
The Outlaw's Legacy of Love
A WESTERN ROMANCE NOVEL
ELAINE SHIELDS
Copyright © 2024 by Elaine Shields
All Rights Reserved.
This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the publisher.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
The Outlaw's Legacy of Love
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
The Outlaw's Hidden Heartache
Introduction
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Free Exclusive Gift
Sign up for my mailing list to be notified of brand new releases and get my latest Full-Length Novel “Hearts that Beat as One” (available only to my subscribers) for FREE!
Click the link or enter it into your browser
https://dl.bookfunnel.com/bh8gzbz0vo
The Outlaw's Legacy of Love
Introduction
In the aftermath of a devastating storm, Amy Montrose finds herself uprooted and seeking refuge with her harsh yet compassionate aunt on the untamed frontier. However, as she adjusts to her new reality, little does she anticipate that amidst the turmoil, she will discover a budding affection for the enigmatic ranch hand, Gabe.
Can Amy find refuge in the arms of a man whose secrets run as deep as the canyons?
Gabe arrives at Caldwell Ranch harboring secrets and a singular mission: to safeguard those around him from the hidden threats lurking in the shadows. Yet, as he finds himself drawn to Amy, her spirit becomes a source of light in the darkness of his past. While ranch life is hectic, a danger draws near —an old nemesis seeks to destroy the delicate balance of life on Caldwell ranch.
Will he stay true to his purpose, or will his growing feelings for Amy become an insurmountable distraction?
Amidst the challenges and perils, Gabe and Amy's bond deepens, forged by shared experiences and the undeniable pull of their hearts toward each other. In the face of danger and uncertainty, will Gabe and Amy's love prove strong enough to withstand the trials of the frontier?
Chapter 1
Gabriel Westfield plodded into town with his head lowered underneath his large-brimmed hat. Obscured beneath it was his brown and auburn hair, his tanned and scarred skin, and the blue eyes that saw more than he ever said. He grasped the leather reins of his horse, Alistair, and gently led him along the dirt road running through the center of Silverton, Colorado.
All around him, the town was teeming with the activities of an early spring evening. Folks were turning in after a long day of working fields and welcoming new young from their livestock. Everything about this season made him feel like a new man; a man on a quest to right his past, down to every minuscule detail.
The soft, orange glow of the tavern windows caught his attention, and he urged his horse forward, guiding him towards the light. Laughter reverberated out of the open doors, and Gabe caught sight of dancing shadows spilling onto the porch. A few cowboys and ranchers were drinking and playing games to relax at the end of the working day.
He thought of ignoring the tavern and moving past it without a second glance, but the grumbling in his stomach stopped him. Besides, the place was not only for food and drink, but the sign above the door indicated that it also served as the town's inn.
“I suppose,” he mumbled to his shimmering gray horse, “it’s better to get lodgings in town and clean up before begging the lady for a job she's not like to give easily. She might be more receptive to a stranger in the daylight, anyhow.”
He approached the stable behind the building and breathed a sigh of relief that he and Alistair would both soon be getting a good rest. A stable boy popped his head out after opening a wooden gateway. “Evening sir,” he greeted enthusiastically, his broad grin showing teeth that hadn't fully grown in yet.
“Evening.” Gabe nodded his head, still leading Alistair forward by the reins.
“You staying the night?”
"If there's a room." Gabe glanced toward the tavern and inn. Judging by the sound, it wasn’t too fully occupied to worry.
This sight of the boy's shabby clothes and holey shoes took Gabe far away into the past, when he had still been scrounging for scraps and doing far more shady things for his survival. In this boy’s position, he had taken a much different approach to making a living.
It made his stomach clench to remember. Gabe handed off the reins, measuring his own expression so that nobody might guess his thoughts, and tossed the boy a coin that was worth more than the job usually paid. This boy was on a good path, and Gabe meant to encourage that.
The boy stared at the coin with wide eyes for a moment in shock before he beamed.
“Thank you kindly, sir! I promise, I’ll take real good care o’ him. You have yourself a fine evening, sir, and come back to stay with us anytime!” Gabe nodded at the boy as he led Alistair into the lantern-lit stable.
Other horses sounded from inside, huffing and munching on the hay Gabe could spot through the open doorway. There were only three other horses, but the stable area was relatively big; a sign that visitors passed through this way often enough. Gabe wondered with dread if and when the stable might be filled with horses from non-paying customers.
He glanced up and down the street while rounding the building, hoping silently that all would be well for at least a couple of weeks. He’d need to build some kind of rapport with the town, and especially with Sylvie Caldwell, before they’d listen to any warnings he might issue them.
As Gabe entered the open front door, he glanced around the room at all the wooden tables scattered about and lining the walls. A circle of drunken folks were dancing with each other. Gabe shook his head, pushing away memories of his old ruffian lifestyle. He sniffed, his eyes darting about. A group of ranchers stared at him over the rims of their cups, and Gabe watched them sideways until he was sure he didn’t recognize them.
He walked past them all to the aged counter, offering the barman a friendly nod. He had the creases of a middle-aged man who had laughed a lot in his life, and his dark eyes brimmed with experience. The barman smiled, deepening the lines around his mouth and eyes.
“So, stranger, how may I serve you? A whiskey maybe?” He teased a bottle. “Or perhaps food?”
“Food,” Gabe stated firmly. “Please. Whatever you have is fine.” His stomach rumbled so much it was a wonder the entire room couldn't hear it.
“I've got a hearty stew served hot if you’ve got some coin.”
“How much for a hot meal and a room?” he asked, keeping his budget in mind. He hadn’t spent recklessly while on the road, but if his plan failed, he’d need to find a hard job that paid well in order to make enough money to set off.
No, don’t think like that. I've made it this far, and this has to work. It will work. Come sunrise, I will get the job and do what I came here to do.
The saloon keeper smiled and quoted him a decent price for the state of the place. Gabe guessed if it was a busy season, he likely would have had to haggle. He rubbed his chin silently and gave a nod of agreement.
A game of checkers was in play at one of the tables, and Gabe sat by to observe while he waited for his food. Once it arrived, he scarfed it down ravenously, leaving his plate spotless. That night, in the soft but musty bed upstairs in the inn, his mind drifted into the vast landscape of countryside dreams.
***
Early the next morning, before sunlight dappled the ground, Gabe found himself swaying atop his horse along the wide, dusty path that led to the Caldwell Ranch. Thanks to the stable boy’s instructions, he had made it to Sylvie’s ranch and spewed a breath of relief when he realized how well-known the ranch was around town.
The large house stood like a giant peak on the highest mountain, but the fenced land looked vast; more than enough for the eye to track. His heart hummed with deep emotions he hadn’t accounted for, and he pulled his horse to a stop.
It had been a long time since he'd seen the place, and longer still since his last interaction with the man who'd purchased it. That man was dead and gone, but there were others now who didn
Sucking in a deep breath, he nudged Alistair forward and burst through the last leg of his journey. The front door of the ranch house opened just before he came to a stop beside the porch, and a middle-aged woman stepped out with bare feet.
“Get up, boys,” she shouted as she banged a large brass bell. “Anyone who wakes up late is missing breakfast.” Before turning away, she cast a sideways glance toward Gabe. “You lost or something?”
“No, ma’am.” He squared his shoulders and cleared his throat, locking eyes with the hazel-eyed woman who ran the Caldwell Ranch with determined steel. “My name is Gabe Westfield. I'm passing through and thought I'd stay for the season. I’d be happy to work hard here if you need a hand.”
She squinted, sweeping stray wisps of her prematurely silvered hair back in a smooth motion. “What makes you think I'd need another hand?”
“Right.” He felt sheepish, but maintained his air of respect. “I'm a hard worker and I won't ask for much. Seems to me the more hands you have, the more work can get done in a day.”
She scratched her head, shaking it. “Unless you've got some real special skills, I think I'll be fine with what I've got.”
His heart sank as he tried to think of how any of his previously learned skills could be put to good use on a ranch. None that came to mind, such as gun-slinging and thievery, were likely to paint him in a good light. It seemed wisest to keep them to himself, yet he needed to tell her something that would convince her of his value.
Gabe stared at the woman fiercely, his teeth ground with determination. He reminded himself of his goals and clenched his fists against the reins of his horse. No one made any promises about this being an easy job. Essential, yes, but not easy.
“I don't take up much space, won't cost you much, don't make a lot o' noise, and don't cause trouble. You'll only have to say something once for me to get it, and I learn fast enough you might not even have to say it once. I've got two strong hands and will work from dawn to dusk seven days a week.”
The woman, who Gabe knew to be Sylvie, squinted, eying him curiously. He understood the questions that must have been rushing through her head. After all, he was a stranger emerging out of nowhere, and declaring he wouldn’t mind working for a low income. She rubbed her temples.
“Very well. You make your case well, young man. I'll give you a week to put your words to the test.” She smirked. “I mean, to hold you to 'em. So, if you were playing it up, now's the time to leave.”
He bit back a relieved smile, his eyes burning with fierce determination. Spring season would be plenty of time for him to move his pieces on the checker's board. “Don’t worry about me, ma’am. I'm good for it. Where would you like me to start?”
Her hazel eyes sparked with annoyance; her head inclined slightly. “No more calling me ma’am around here,” she spat. “Call me Sylvie.”
Gabe blinked at her. “Apologies, Sylvie.”
“Atta boy. Now,” she said, turning to enter the house again, waving him in half-heartedly, “get you something to eat, then the boys will show you around.”
As he ascended the porch steps to follow her, she called over her shoulder, "By the way, if you're thinking of trying anything, know that I'm armed at all times." He'd just made it through the doorway before she met his gaze. "Anyone crosses me, they'll be on the ground before you c'n spit."
"Understood." It was good to know that she'd be able to handle herself should things go sour. What she'd likely meant as a threat to keep him from any criminal acts against her had served as a reassurance.
The two ranch hands weren’t pleased by his sudden appearance at breakfast, to put it mildly. From the way their faces darkened with distrust and exuding malice, Gabe knew he would be an outcast from the start, but it mattered little to him. His goals came first.
“Who is he?” the one with blond hair asked.
“Larson, this is Gabe Westfield,” Sylvia answered. “I want you to show him the ropes. If he does well this week, he'll be joining us for the season. Gabe, this here is Larson Pewes, the senior ranch hand. In my absence, you'll answer to him.”
Gabe nodded politely but was met by a skeptical glare from the man's brown eyes. Beside him, his darker-haired counterpart offered a friendly smile and handshake. "Jake Martin," he introduced. "Welcome to the team."
They both appeared a few years younger than Gabe, who was twenty-eight, yet he would have to get used to their seniority over him. As they sat down to a breakfast of ham, eggs, and grits, he reminded himself that he had only to keep his head down, work hard, and wait for the storm to roll in.
Chapter
Thunder cracked outside, and rain fell in heavy, thudding waves. Night had already veiled the world by then, and Amy sat in her room reading a romance novel from England that she'd discovered in her mother’s cache.
“Dinner is ready,” her mother called out at the base of the stairs. Amy, drawn into her current paragraph, remained glued to the bed, her toes curled up as she read about her favorite romantic hero. “Amy! Come down.” Her mother shouted, and the voice was somehow blocked out by the strength of the story filling her mind.
Her chest hummed, and one glance at the pouring rain made Amy’s reading experience all the more immersive. “Coming,” she finally shouted back, closing the book. She straightened her dress and set the novel on her side table, brushing her fingers against it fondly as she pulled away.
It happened as she was darting down the stairs. A screaming sound, like wind blowing faster and harder than she'd ever heard in her life, approached the outer wall. The windows shattered and wood splintered in all directions, the house folding in on itself while Amy shrieked in terror.
Her feet were swept out from under her. In the next second, a cold blast slammed into her, thrusting her against the wall. Her voice was completely swallowed by the burrowing vortex. fighting against her instinct to squeeze her eyes shut, she looked around wildly for any sign of her parents.
The lamps had gone out and all that remained to light her way were the periodic flashes of lightning reflecting off the swell of water flooding into the torn house.
Freezing water seeped into Amy, chilling her to the bone, and fear tormented her. Her brain kept darting back to the horrible truth that stayed turned on as brilliant as the moon. I’m going to die here, her mind echoed, gluing her in place.
No matter how hard she fought, she couldn't escape the barrage of wind, water, and debris that kept piling on, pinning her to the floor. As she lay there, coughing and battling for breath, she wondered what she'd done to bring such terrible punishment down on her.
Crying out into the chaos, she pleaded that her family might be spared, even if she wouldn't get to see them again in this life. After what must have been hours, as the wind died down, she lost the battle with consciousness and everything turned black around her.
***
Amy Montrose exited the hospital with bandages wrapped tightly around one wrist that had been sprained. The aching pain of her flesh felt like nothing compared to the turmoil burning through her mind. Four days before, she'd survived a horrific storm that had left her without a family or a home.
Tears trickled down her face as she wandered down the side of the street. The town lawyer, Archie Smith Esquire, had stopped by the hospital early on in her stay to let her know he'd search for any living relative she might have around the country, free of charge. She couldn't recall precisely which day he'd come. Those days were all a blur of heartache and agony.
She raised her uninjured hand to signal a carriage, only to realize that she had no penny in her pocket. Luckily, she knew how to find his office, and it was a relatively short distance away. She stalked in that direction, with her lips set in a fine line. Darkness encroached on the center of her mind, and Amy tried to hold on to the hope that she'd have somewhere to go from there.
