Woodie made sure he was a few minutes early to meet Beatrix. He made himself comfortable on a bench under the general store window and looked forward to the next few hours. She had surprised him the evening before when she informed him that she had changed her mind and wanted to take him up on his invitation for a walk.
He wanted to ask her what had made her change her mind. Instead, he had kept his questions to himself, and after arranging to meet her where he now sat, she had quickly disappeared into the throng of patrons.
He had watched her weave gracefully between the tables as she carried out her duties. His jaw had clenched involuntarily as he caught sight of a drunken man leer at Beatrix, his hand reaching out to touch her as she passed. With a fluid motion obviously born of years of practice, Beatrix had deftly sidestepped the man’s clumsy attempt, never once breaking stride as she continued her work.
That small act let him know that she could take care of herself, but he still felt the weight of responsibility Patrick had placed upon his shoulders. But it was also a burden he would gladly bear. For Beatrix Whittaker had captured his heart.
A slow smile spread across Woodie’s face as he saw Beatrix walking toward him. She wore a light green dress that complemented her dark auburn hair, bringing out the sparkle in her dark eyes. The sun shone brightly overhead, casting a warm glow on her freckled cheeks, and for a moment, Woodie found himself captivated by her beauty.
“Good morning, Woodie,” Beatrix greeted him with a radiant smile, and he felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the sun. She seemed equally glad to see him as he was to see her.
“Morning, Beatrix,” he replied, tipping his hat respectfully. “You look lovely today.”
“Thank you kindly,” she said, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink. “Shall we go for our walk?”
“Of course.” He offered her his arm, which she accepted with grace, and together they began to stroll down Chesterfield’s dusty main street. They passed by the familiar sights of the blacksmith’s workshop, the general store, and the sheriff’s office until they reached the town’s boundaries, leaving behind the bustle of daily life.
Rolling hills dotted with wildflowers and tall grasses swayed gently in the breeze, painting a picture of serenity only broken by the occasional call of a bird or the distant lowing of cattle. A dog barked in the distance.
“Isn’t it just a lovely day?” Beatrix remarked, her eyes sparkling with delight as she took in the beauty of their surroundings. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the hills look quite so green.”
Woodie was captivated by her enthusiasm, which seemed to bring the world around them to life in a way he had never quite noticed before. “It is,” he agreed, his voice softening as he glanced over at her again. “Perfect for a walk like this.”
As they continued along the path, Beatrix turned her gaze back to Woodie, curiosity lighting up her eyes. “Tell me about your family, Woodie. You mentioned your brothers are bounty hunters, too?”
He hesitated momentarily, not accustomed to sharing such personal details with others. But there was something about Beatrix that made him want to open up, to let her into the parts of his life he usually kept hidden away.
“Yes, that’s right,” he began, running a hand through his dark brown hair. “My brothers Max and Frank followed in our father’s footsteps, just like I did. It’s sort of a family tradition, I suppose.”
“Did your father teach you all how to be bounty hunters?” Beatrix asked, her voice filled with genuine interest.
Woodie nodded, his eyes growing distant as memories of his childhood surfaced. “He did. We learned everything we know from him – tracking, shooting, fighting ... He believed that justice should always be upheld, no matter the cost, and he instilled that belief in us from a young age.”
“I bet you have a lot of stories to share with your brothers,” Beatrix commented.
“I don’t see Max and Frank very often because we are all so busy with our jobs. I tend to stay in Texas, but Max and Frank accept jobs nationwide,” Woodie explained.
Beatrix looked at him thoughtfully, her brow furrowing in sympathy. “That must be hard for you, being so far apart from the people you care about.”
Woodie’s lips curled into a half-smile, his eyes clouding with memories of the past. “It is, but I reckon that’s just how things are when you’re part of a family like mine.”
“And your father?” Beatrix pressed. “Wouldn’t he be too old to be a bounty hunter?”
“He passed away some years ago, but I still remember the stories he used to tell me when I was a boy.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Woodie,” Beatrix murmured as she touched his arm.
The breeze picked up as they walked, carrying with it the faint scent of wildflowers and the distant sound of a creek babbling nearby. Beatrix’s hair danced around her face, and Woodie found himself unable to look away. He wanted to reach out and brush the strands from her eyes, and he had to clutch his hand to keep from doing so. Her eyes were full of understanding and empathy, and he realize she truly cared about his story.
“Your father must have been quite the adventurer,” Beatrix said, admiration lacing her tone. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like to hear those stories firsthand.”
“Yeah, he was something else,” Woodie replied, a hint of pride in his voice. “He always made sure we knew the importance of what we were doing – bringing criminals to justice and keeping innocent folks safe.”
“I’m sure your father passed on those traits to you and your brothers. I’d really like to hear more about him.”
“Really?” Woodie asked, taken aback by her genuine interest. He wondered if her interest stemmed partly because she didn’t know her own father.
“Of course.” Beatrix smiled warmly. “Your family sounds fascinating, and I can see how much they mean to you.”
Woodie returned her smile as they continued walking, the dirt road crunching beneath their feet. “Well, one story that always stuck with me was when my father faced down a notorious outlaw named Big Tom. He was a ruthless man who had taken over a small town, ruling it with an iron fist.”
Beatrix’s eyes widened in disbelief, clearly captivated by the tale. “What did your father do?”
“Despite knowing the danger he faced, my father chose to stand up to Big Tom,” Woodie said, his voice swelling with pride. “He challenged him to a duel in the center of town. A crowd had gathered to watch, expecting Big Tom to make short work of my father. But my father, he didn’t flinch. He stood tall, stared Big Tom right in the eye, and told him that he wouldn’t be terrorizing that town any longer.”
“Wow,” Beatrix breathed, hanging onto his every word. “So what happened?”
“Big Tom tried to shoot first, but my father was quicker,” Woodie continued, his heart pounding as if he were reliving the moment himself. “With one well-placed shot, he brought the outlaw down. The people of the town, once terrified, cheered for my father. That day, he taught me the true meaning of justice, and the importance of standing up for what’s right, even when it seems impossible.”
“That’s amazing,” Beatrix murmured, her gaze locked on Woodie’s. “He sounds like a true hero.”
“He was, Beatrix,” he replied, his voice cracking under the weight of emotion. “My father was my hero. And as for my mother ...” Woodie hesitated, swallowing hard. “She died when I was fifteen from an illness. She was a kind and gentle soul. I miss her dearly.”
“I’m so sorry, Woodie,” Beatrix said softly, reaching out to touch his arm in comfort. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.”
“Your compassion means a lot to me,” Woodie admitted, touched by her empathy. “It’s not often that I get to open up about my family like this.”
Woodie’s gaze lingered on Beatrix, her freckles scattered like gold dust across her cheeks as they continued down the path. The sun shone brightly overhead, its rays dappling through the leaves of the trees that lined their way. The smell of damp earth and vibrant wildflowers filled the air, and Woodie felt an unexpected sense of peace being in this place with Beatrix.
“Look,” Beatrix exclaimed softly, pointing to a small creek that bubbled gently alongside their path. “Isn’t it lovely?”
“Beautiful,” Woodie agreed, his eyes never leaving her face. “Shall we take a break by the water?”
“Sounds perfect,” she replied, leading him off the path toward a large, shaded tree near the creek’s edge.
They settled side by side beneath the tree, the cool grass tickling their skin. Beatrix leaned back against the tree trunk, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath, savoring the moment’s serenity. Woodie couldn’t help admiring her natural grace, the way she seemed to belong among the surrounding beauty.
“Beatrix,” he began carefully, his voice low and gentle as he moved closer to her. “Do you ever think about a different life? I mean, do you like your life now, or do you dream of something else?”
She hesitated for a moment as if unsure how to answer. Her dark eyes met his, and he could see the depth of emotion swirling within them. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Truth be told, Woodie, I do dream of a different life sometimes.”
“Tell me about it,” Woodie urged, eager to understand her deepest desires.
Beatrix leaned against the tree, her expressive face reflecting her longing. “I want to explore the world beyond this town, beyond the constraints of working in a saloon day in and day out. There’s so much out there, Woodie. Mountains that touch the sky, oceans that stretch as far as the eye can see ... It’s a beautiful world, and I want to experience it all.”
As she spoke, her words painted vivid images in Woodie’s mind. He could see her climbing those mountains, her auburn hair whipping wildly around her face as the wind carried her laughter. He imagined her standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean, marveling at the vastness before her with a sense of wonder and awe.
“Beatrix,” he said softly, his heart aching for the life she longed for. “You deserve to have that life and more.”
“Thank you, Woodie,” she replied, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “But I don’t know if it will ever be possible. I don’t even know where I came from or who my family is. How can I chase after dreams when I don’t even have roots?”
Woodie felt his eyes prickle with tears as he heard the pain in her voice. He had been holding onto a secret about her past, one that could change everything for her. But would she believe him if he told her? And what would it mean for them?
“Maybe,” he suggested cautiously, “you could talk to your aunt Meredith. She might be able to help you find some answers.”
“Woodie, I’ve tried,” Beatrix confessed, shaking her head sadly. “But she won’t tell me anything. I think she’s afraid of what I might learn. I just wish I knew the truth.”
“Beatrix,” he began hesitantly, his voice soft to not disturb the tranquil atmosphere. He really didn’t want their time together to end. Keeping one of her hands in his, he cupped her chin with the other and pulled her closer to him, just a few inches, waiting to see if Beatrix would pull away from him. Instead, she looked at him, trust in her dark eyes. He gazed at her for a long moment and then slowly placed a soft kiss on her lips.
He heard a soft sigh from Beatrix, letting him know he wasn’t the only one caught up in this moment. He kissed her again and then moved away, not wanting to take advantage of the fact that they were totally alone. She smiled at him, and he knew he would do anything she asked of him.
The sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting an orange hue over the landscape as Woodie and Beatrix reluctantly stood up from their shady spot under the tree. They smiled, both knowing they needed to head back to Chesterfield before darkness fell completely.
“Let’s get going,” Woodie said softly, offering his hand to Beatrix. She took it with a grateful smile, and together, they began to walk toward town.
As they walked side by side, Woodie couldn’t help noticing how the fading sunlight caught in Beatrix’s auburn hair, making it glow like fire. The sight warmed him even more than the sun’s rays, and he wished that this moment could last forever.
But then, his eyes drifted toward the horizon, and something made him pause. His heart skipped a beat, and his grip on Beatrix’s hand tightened slightly. In the distance, he could see a figure standing at the edge of the hills, watching them intently.
Pablo Merra.
Woodie tensed, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. He had promised to protect Beatrix, and now here was the very man he needed to protect her from, lurking just out of reach. Woodie knew he couldn’t let Beatrix become aware of the danger they faced, not yet. But he also couldn’t ignore the threat.
“Beatrix,” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice steady. “I think we should pick up the pace a bit. It’ll be dark soon, and I don’t want us to get caught out here after sunset.”
“Of course,” she agreed, oblivious to the real reason for his sudden urgency. She quickened her steps, trusting Woodie implicitly. “Besides, I really need to get back to the saloon before Aunt Meredith misses me.”
As they continued their walk, Woodie kept one eye on the distant figure, silently cursing himself for letting his guard down. He knew that Pablo was a cunning and dangerous man, and now that he had seen them together and away from the safety of town, there was no telling what he might do next. He moved his holstered gun on his hip, making sure that Pablo knew he would use the weapon in an instant if he needed to.
Woodie’s thoughts raced as they neared the town. He needed to devise a plan to keep Beatrix safe until he could figure out how to deal with Pablo once and for all. But for now, all he could do was stay vigilant and pray that he would be able to protect her.
They reached the outskirts of Chesterfield just as the sun disappeared behind the hills, plunging the world into twilight. Woodie’s heart pounded in his chest as he glanced back one last time at the spot where he had seen Pablo, but the man was gone, swallowed up by the shadows.
“Thank you for today, Woodie,” Beatrix said softly as they entered the town, her eyes shining with happiness. “I truly enjoyed our time together.”
“Me too,” he replied, smiling despite the worry gnawing at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Beatrix.”
“Goodnight, Woodie.” She squeezed his hand before letting go, and then she was gone, disappearing into the growing darkness.
Woodie stood there momentarily, watching the spot where she had vanished, his heart heavy with both love and fear. He knew that their time together had only just begun, but he also knew that danger was lurking just around the corner.
And he would do whatever it took to protect her.