The Outlaw's Second Chance. Angie Dicken

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       Chapter Four

      The last of the embers died, snuffing out Cort’s view of Aubrey’s makeshift tent. He could just see the soles of her boots sticking out as she lay next to her brother.

      Stubborn woman.

      How could she expect to manage a plow and the task of building four walls of sod all by herself? Cort winced as he lay back and tucked his bag beneath his head. She would have had her brother’s help if it weren’t for him.

      Wasn’t that just typical of Cort Stanton? To fight for something that wasn’t really his and hurt people in the process? He’d proved this back in Wyoming during the range war. He’d protected his boss’s land but ended up fighting against his own brother. Charles had joined the unlawful gunslingers, forcing Cort to choose between standing up for good and his own flesh and blood.

      How many ill deeds had Cort witnessed because of his loyalty to Charles?

      Cort slung his arm across his face and tried to calm his mind and get some sleep. Before he could even consider blinking away the image of Aubrey’s brown eyes from the backs of his eyelids, an unsettling groan drowned out a chorus of crickets.

      “Ben, just stay still.” Aubrey’s voice rang out.

      Another agonizing noise. Cort skittered to his feet and dug through his bag for his lantern and a match. By the time he made his way to Aubrey, she was frantically rummaging through her own belongings. Cort knelt down. The light shone bright upon Ben’s face as he gasped, squeezing his eyes tight.

      “Don’t move, Ben.” Aubrey laid her hand on his forehead then swiped it downward along his cheek.

      “It’s killin’ me.” Tears streamed down Ben’s cheeks.

      “I know, brother.” She cast wide, questioning eyes in Cort’s direction. As if he had answers. He wished he did. But the only sure answer was that her brother’s hurt was all his fault.

      “You spoke with a doctor?” Cort whispered.

      She confirmed with a quick nod. “He’s coming tomorrow.”

      “Good.”

      Aubrey’s petite fingers clasped Cort’s hand tightly. He shot a look of confusion at her. She grabbed Ben’s hand and bowed her head.

      “Heavenly Father, watch over Your child tonight. May Your healing hands lie upon Ben’s body and begin to mend whatever might be broken. Give the doctor wisdom tomorrow, and let Ben rest well tonight. In Jesus’s name. Amen.”

      As quickly as she’d held his hand, she let go and turned completely toward her brother. The hair on Cort’s arms stood up on end. Her earnest prayer moved him.

      Aubrey’s hum trickled into the night air, blessing any listener with its melody. The crickets’ lullaby met its match. He tried to forget the warmth from her touch and the aftermath of her prayer on his heart. She was wise to not attach herself to Cort’s promise to help. He wondered if he could follow through himself. A woman of such courage and tenderness would only be destroyed in the long run if he pursued her. He shouldn’t wait for the authorities to come looking. He should leave now while he had her complete confidence in his unreliability.

      Then again, she may not know it, but she was a woman in need of immediate assistance. No woman, or man, could care for a brother with a broken limb and build a dwelling in good time. In the heat of this drought, Aubrey and Ben Huxley would not find much relief beneath a rudimentary tent for more than another day.

      The only way he knew how to begin to make up for Ben’s circumstance was in a way that he’d always done well. He’d work.

      Cort bade her good-night and headed back to his bag. He settled down again and managed to sleep on and off. Finally, at daybreak, he stretched his arms to the gray morning sky then headed to the creek.

      After splashing his face with the lukewarm water, he clambered back up to higher ground. Aubrey was sleeping, curled up next to Ben. He fought the urge to peek in at her and, instead, explored the wide plains around them. In the near distance, their neighbors had already started on a soddie. While he’d stayed with Ben yesterday, it’d seemed that every time he glanced over that way, there was a growing stack of sod bricks.

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