A Hart for Two

By Allian Hubbard and Russ Normandy

A woman running from her powerful, racketeering, ex-husband promises to find her abused son a good father. When their train to Los Angeles stops at Alpine, Texas they witness a cowboy save a policeman from four attackers. The boy insists he wants the cowboy for a father. And a promise is a promise. Trying to get to the cowboy's isolated ranch they cross an innocent-looking stream. But it is spring runoff. The strong current washes the woman and boy downstream. The cowboy's lariat pulls the unconscious pair to safety. He takes them in and brings them back to health, but he wants the beautiful woman and her ten-year-old to leave. He has a past more terrible than theirs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Swords & Fists
• Release date: Nov 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393469926

Allian Hubbard

Allian Hubbard and Russ Normandy have written three contemporary western romances: Deep in the Heart, Arroyo of the Heart, and A Hart for Two.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Wild West

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Judy’s eyes shot out the window as the train slowed to a stop beside the station house with the sign saying Alpine, Texas. She saw four men on horseback riding past. They looked late for something damned important. It was like a scene from a 50s western movie.

Was the train stopping at the riders’ request? She couldn’t take the chance of being discovered.

She jerked the buds from her son’s ears, disturbing his video play.

Mom!

Michael, they found us! We gotta run!

She pointed out the window as she gathered their things.

Cowboys? Michael asked. Where are we?

She drew his face toward hers. Violent men. Now go. I’ll bring the suitcases.

Michael ran out of the private train booth. She watched as he made his way down the walkway of the passenger car, bypassing all the safeguards and leaping off the Amtrak before it came to a complete stop. She flinched but was not surprised. Worry about it later.

The cowboys rode around the business end of the locomotive and into the parking lot of a place with the large sign out front: Osbourne Farm and Ranch. She could see Michael’s excited grinning. That was not good. She had to try to refocus his attention, get him moving.

Beyond Michael, she saw a city policeman as he turned toward the commotion of excited hooves. The biggest of the cowboys rode by the cop and kicked him in the head with the heel of his boot.

Oh, my God!

The officer’s body recoiled off the hood of the patrol car. Her first thought was her son’s safety. Her second thought was escape. At least the mean looking bunch of whatever they were didn’t seem to be after her and her son.

Another cowboy made a running dismount without stopping his horse. Bad guys or good, that was awesomely impressive. Could this be a show? One of those reenactment kind of things for tourist? If it was, it looked real. The cowboy relieved the stunned policeman of his gun and tossed it into an open rain barrel at the corner of the farm/ranch store. It splashed.

The two remaining cowboys lifted the face down cop from the gravel and held him upright as the big cowboy sauntered to them.

She caught up to her wild-eyed ten-year-old. Michael, come away.

Mom, they’re not after us.

I know but they’re still violent men.

But they’re beating up a policeman.

She watched for a moment, exasperated. There’s nothing we can do about it. There are plenty of people around. Local townspeople. Come on; let’s get back on the train. She tried to guide him with her arms loaded with suitcases, but he easily twisted away.

We have to help, Michael said and ran toward the ruckus.

Michael! She knew he was right, but she was right also. Somebody had surely already called the police. That did not make her any less proud of her son.

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A man in a blue suit and his partner watched the tumult from the seclusion of the interior of a parked car. They spotted the woman and boy.

That them? the man in the gray suit asked.

Beautiful, slim, long black hair, well dressed. Traveling with a kid, the man in the blue suit said.

Should we pick them up?

Hang on. Too many witnesses with these yokels drawing a crowd. Let’s step out and have a smoke.

They watched as the big cowboy lifted the head of the Alpine city cop.

Me and my brothers, here, don’t forget them that’s wronged us, the big cowboy said. We ain’t forgettin you no time soon. And we aim to see you don’t forget us. Maybe forever. Ain’t that right, boys? The big cowboy punched the cop square in the eye socket.

The four cowboys formed a circle and took turns holding and punching the cop.

I guess the good citizens watching the beating are hoping that somebody has called the cops, Blue Suit said.

Gray Suit laughed. I think they’re too busy making video on their phones to call anybody.

Yeah, I think you’re right. Too bad.

Yeah, too bad.

Then something snatched Blue Suit’s attention in another direction.

At first he thought it was thunder from some clouds that didn’t look too friendly. But he noticed all the watchers in the crowd ducked in reflex. And so had he and Gray Suit. But a moment’s thought made it plain the violent crack was the din of a high-powered rifle. In this case a Winchester 94 30-30. Blue Suit knew what it was when he saw it. It was his business to know guns.

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Young Michael spun from the shock that made him pee and choke at the same time. Almost on top of him was a giant black horse staring down at him snorting something nasty from his nostrils. He carefully leaned to one side to see a man dressed in black sitting atop the beast’s back. From Michael’s place, the horse and man seemed to extend far into the dark West Texas clouds. The boy heard a growl at his feet and looked down at a dog fixed on him readied for action. Michael didn’t move, but his eyes flashed to his mother.

When he looked back, the cowboy in black cocked the handle of the rifle with one hand, out from his body, almost at arm’s length.

I’ll bet he did that to scare the do-do out of anybody who saw it.

He heard his mom drop the suitcases. He turned his head without moving his body so the dog would stay. He saw his mom indicate with her hand for him not to move. He was perfectly content to remain where he was. His legs wouldn’t have moved anyway.

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The man in the gray suit looked alarmed. Should we get them out of there? he asked.

Blue Suit thought about it for two seconds. Still too many witnesses.

We let anything happen to that woman and kid, we can never go back to Atlantic City.

Yeah, we’d better learn to speak South American.

That too.

Nah, just stay ready, but stay relaxed. The reward for this thing going well is worth the risk.

The man in the gray suit nodded in agreement and tried to shake out his tension.

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Who the hell are you? the big cowboy asked the man in black.

Michael’s attention was drawn back to the cowboys, the policeman, and the man in black with the dog, the horse, and the rifle.

Nobody in particular, the mounted man said.

That’s Hart, one of the cowboys said.

Hart? Tom Hart?

Hart. Tom Hart. Michael instantly memorized the name.

At’s right, sho is.

This none a your business, Tom Hart.

You boys made it my business.

Whatchu talkin bout?

Anybody can see you boys blockin my way.

How’s that again?

I can’t get in the store.

Damn, Hart, you just as loco as everybody says you are.

That may be, but I still feel a need to get in that store.

Michael noticed that no one moved. Not any of the four cowboys and especially not the man on the huge horse. And that made the scene eerie. Even the town’s people waited. It was unnatural. He couldn’t ever remember being still for so long. It seemed like ten minutes, at least.

He eased his eyes up to look at the man in black. He could see that the man’s eyes did not blink. He wasn’t totally one hundred percent sure the man in black wasn’t the devil.

That guy’s crazy, one of the cowboys said.

Nothing more dangerous than a crazy guy, another one said. They don’t care if they get killed.

Terrified and thrilled and holding his water, Michael could not look away.

Hart, I’m gone teach you a lesson, too, the big cowboy said. I’m gettin to be a professer like—two lessons in one day. A cop and a crazy. That’s somethin, ain’t it, boys?

Hart lowered the rifle at the big man. This rifle’ll take down a full-grown bear. You think you can stand up to it?

The big cowboy looked at the rifle. He seemed to know what kind it was. He looked scared. Finally, after what was like another really long time, he grinned. He threw his weight on one leg, grabbed onto his big, wide belt, and spit.

That was the most spit I ever seen.

You won’t shoot, the big cowboy said.

You sure about that?

The boy! his mother yelled out.

Hart and the big cowboy listened to his mom talking to them without taking their eyes off each other.

The boy’s in the way, she said.

The face of the scary man on the horse softened. He didn’t look back at her, but he kinda looked like he knew her.

My mom knows a lot of people.

The cowboy on the horse blinked.

You blinked, the big cowboy said. That means you gonna die.

Move the boy out of the way, his mom protested near hysteria.

Your call, Hart, the big cowboy said.

Hart looked at the big cowboy for a long time. His face didn’t move one bit.

So you want to fight me? Hart asked.

He’s doing that cause I’m here. He thinks I’m a kid. He was pretty sure the man in black was not the devil.

I wanna whip you into mouth-sized pieces for a stew.

Hell’s Bells, he’s going to eat the man in black.

What will it benefit me not to put a three-inch hole all the way through you?

Whatchu want?

Hart glanced at the torn up policeman. Let the lawman go.

Done. That ain’t nothin. Raw meat ain’t worth foolin with.

I didn’t know people talked like this.

Put your pistols in a pile, the man in black said.

And you’ll fight me?

One or all of ya.

We never lost no brawl before.

Who says there’s gonna be a brawl? A brawl means there’s a whole bunch a fightin. There’s not gonna be that much.

The four cowboys were in a really good mood and laughed and cut up with each other.

One at a time or all together? the big cowboy asked.

All together’d take less time. Then I could get in the store.

When the four cowboys heard what he said they stopped laughing and they didn’t smile no more. They looked mad like their team just got skunked.

Hart, I’m gonna kill you.

You can kill me in a minute. Turn him loose, first. Hart said, nodding toward the cop.

Let ’im go, boys.

The beat-up policeman staggered over to Hart. He was all bloody and stuff.

Now the pistols, Hart said.

Take ‘em off boys, the big cowboy said. It’ll be more fun this a way.

The big cowboy unbuckled his holster and threw it on the hood of the patrol car. He didn’t care about the paint job or if he was gonna get a ticket. The other three cowboys did the same. They were crazy wild with guns, throwing them around all over the place.

And I think they were brothers cause they were all real ugly.

Hart whistled.

The dog beside Tom Hart leaped. The boy jumped with terror. The dog landed on top of the police car and showed his teeth. The boy’s heart beat so big he was sure everybody could see it through his shirt. The snarling dog guarded the guns. Nobody could have them back till Tom Hart said so.

Michael tried everything he knew to contain his excitement, and his water. But a video game was about to be played out before his eyes, and he was gonna see it through to the end.

Here you go. Hart handed the cocking rifle to the city cop. It’s got a kick.

The policeman staggered taking the rifle, cause it looked like it was heavy.

If you have to, line up a couple of these desperados, Hart said. Bullet’ll go through both. And then travel a piece.

Desperados. Another word set to memory.

Hart swung his right leg around behind him and touched it onto the ground off the horse. The left foot eased from the thing hanging down from the saddle that had his foot in it, and he stepped down. He pulled off his hat, brushed the wide part, and handed it to Michael.

Oh, my God!

Don’t let this get dirty, Hart told him.

He wiped his hands on the back of his pants.

Not if it’s the last thing I ever do.

Michael thought his eyes were going to pop out of his sockets, and he didn’t seem to be able to close his mouth—it just wouldn’t work. But he managed to take the hat with both hands while nodding nonstop.

Can I count on ya?

He just kept nodding.

Fine. Hart said.

Hart walked into the middle of the four ugly cowboys.

Hell, this don’t even seem fair, the big cowboy said. You don’t know no more about fightin than to let us surround you, you dumb idgit. Get ‘im boys.

Chapter 2

Fist Fight at the Osborne Farm and Ranch

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Hart knew that at his six feet and a hundred and eighty-five pounds, each of the brothers packed a lot more beef than him.

But he carried nothing extra. It was his way. Experience in combat had taught him muscle needed to pack limbs and torso, legs needed to be light and agile. If you couldn’t see veins in the mirror, something had to go. Extra weight was extra risk. It was a habit hard to break.

The four brothers circled around him. He didn’t move much. Just kinda kept an eye on them. No matter how dumb and clunky they looked, it was an amateur mistake to underestimate an enemy. Arrogance got you killed. The brothers actually looked practiced to him. Four to one was why they had never lost a fight. Overwhelming the enemy was a good way to keep the fighting short. And probably the best way to keep causalities down. A thought crossed his mind from the short time he had trained to be an officer. It went something like... there was no use trying to reform war. The worse it was the sooner it would be stopped. He couldn’t remember the exact words, but that was the idea. William Tecumseh Sherman. He would try to keep this war as short as possible.

The big cowboy, being the oldest and thus the natural leader took a swing at him.

He ducked the attack, but he didn’t have to move that much. He realized the big man had gone for a knockout punch and had put too much force behind the attack making it clumsy, obvious, and easy to avoid. His arms with open hands still hung at his sides, no reason to get excited. The big cowboy collected himself and threw another poke that Hart sidestepped. What was that saying about doing the same thing and getting the same result? But then why change what works? His new friends were about to get a free lesson in creativity.

You gone fight or dance? the big cowboy barked in frustration.

If you’re askin me to dance, you’re not my type. I like ‘em only medium ugly.

The boy laughed out and quickly slapped the hat over his face.

The big cowboy looked at the boy and snorted. I don’t think I like you no more, he said to Hart. All right, all at one time boys. Right now.

The brothers moved in, Hart punched the big cowboy in the face as he kicked the brother across from him, and dodged the attacks of the other two. He rose from a squat and jammed a third brother under the chin with a fist. A backward head butt caught the last brother above the nose. Usually that was enough. Most would have recognized they were out classed and would have stopped. But these four brothers were not only ugly but apparently dumb. And slow learning. And especially the professer.

The big cowboy recovered for a new attack that Hart avoided by stepping to the side. Hart’s fist caught his attacker in the sternum and followed up with two punches to the face and a sweep of the legs. He heard the big cowboy’s teeth clap together when he hit the unforgiving Texas ground.

Whoa! Mighty! the boy said.

Hart thought that as fights go this one wasn’t too interesting. There was nothing much at stake. The cop was going to be okay. And these guys weren’t very good outside of a honkytonk. In the Army, he had had better practice workouts than this. He would try to stay for the finish. But his heart wasn’t in it.

The woman rushed in and grabbed her son.

He glimpsed her out the corner of his eye. He took a moment to study her. Wasn’t much else to do in the way of fighting.

When she stood with the boy in her arms, she locked eyes with Hart.

What an incredibly beautiful woman. All of a sudden, he didn’t seem interested in getting in Osborne’s Farm and Ranch store anymore. The cop was completely forgotten. He straightened. He threw the hair out of his eyes. He came close to smiling. If she hadn’t been so beautiful maybe he would have. But inside the old noggin, he came alive. For some damned reason he remembered he hadn’t shaved in three days.

Oh! Watch—! she was interrupted in her warning just as the fist of brother number three caught Hart on the side of the head.

He tumbled over onto the grassless dirt. When his head caught up to his body, his eyes found her.

Please be—. Careful, she probably tried to say as brother number two, still on the ground, decked Hart a good one.

The angry fist bloodied Hart’s nose, but his attention could not leave the face that so enchanted him.

Your nose is... the woman said and covered her nose with a hand.

He didn’t understand what she said or didn’t choose to listen, as his interest was no longer concerned with the fighting arts.

Don’t you think you should...? the beautiful woman waved her finger at the brothers.

Huh? he said and glanced at the family foursome reassembling with revenge in their eyes. Oh, okay.

He leaped to his feet and was at the brothers before they knew what was happening. He was a man in a hurry. Sometimes the brothers got a fist to the throat and a foot to the side of the knee. But sometimes any one of the unlucky four just got punched in the nose.

The brothers seemed to have succumbed to the slows. His plan was to surround them and attack from all sides at once. He didn’t want to think about them one second longer than he had to. He had something else on his mind.

The space for three yards around him had become a dust cloud, what with bodies crashing onto the hard ground and his shuffling feet.

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The two suits, Blue and Gray, watched the one-sided fight.

What is that guy? Blue Suit asked.

He’s no cowboy, that’s for certain. I’ve seen fighting like that before, Gray Suit said.

Where?

In a bad place. A very bad place.

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Hart stood in the middle of the groaning, swearing, slobbering, spitting brothers. His main concern was to not get too hot and start sweating. He wanted to smell good. Hopefully the scent of the horse would linger. Women loved horses.

The boy broke away from his mother, ran to Hart, and took his hand.

Hart looked squarely at the boy for the first time. He squatted and peered into the boy’s eyes.

Your hat, sir, the young man said. I didn’t let it get dirty.

As the image of the ten-year-old settled on his brain, his mind changed to one of peering at a ghost.

Chapter 3

A Knight without Armor

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Judy was anxious as the thin muscular man who had just beaten four guys bigger than him stared at her son. What would he do? What was he capable of doing? Heaven only knew.

Her human instincts told her to run, to get away from these men of violence, and this man especially. But her motherly instincts demanded she see to her son.

All right, what was possible? She sure wasn’t going to intimidate this Tom Hart person physically, not after what she had just witnessed. And the lawman present was probably in the guy’s corner. In the face of such odds, she decided to use her strength.

She strode up behind Michael and coughed. The sound seemed to break his focus on her son. Another cough caused him to look behind Michael. She could tell he saw her. It was what men always did. Their bodies couldn’t lie. Then he looked up.

When she looked through the several days’ growth on his face and into his dark eyes, she felt a lump shoot up the middle of her back, through her shoulder blades, and into her throat.

Damn!

He stood.

Damn!

He was tall.

Damn!

Hart pulled on his old black hat and tipped it to her.

Damn!

Those many and long years in medical school had prepared her for any eventuality—she had always told herself—but this tiny gesture of this handsome, hard man took her breath.

He kept his gaze on her longer than was comfortable. She was not completely sure she had on all her clothes but was embarrassed to look.

She felt her nervous laugh had betrayed her, but she was wrong. In her medical practice, she had treated the injured and dying. What could be more serious than that? Her body held up. She had the strong impression that he was thinking of someone as he stared at her. And he looked like he wanted to say something. But when the words wouldn’t come, she helped out.

Thank you for not starting a gun war, she said.

Huh? Oh. The boy was in the way.

She was a bit shocked that his words and tone were entirely different from those said to the cowboys. Those words had been said at the cowboys; these words were said for her. That’s how she felt anyway. There was no sign of mean or violence. In his words or in his manner. It was hard to believe she had witnessed what had just happened.

Oh, I was okay, Michael said.

Hart bent down and whispered to her son. I know you were. You look like you can take care of yourself, but mothers are kinda funny about such matters. They worked so long to bring you into the world, they want it to be tough to get you out.

I know, but she means well.

Michael we’ve got to get back on the train, she said.

And I gotta get Tin Star over yunder back to the hoosegow, Hart said.

The what? Michael asked.

I gotta get ‘im back to the jailhouse so’s they can get ‘im to the hospital.

Jailhouse. Oh, yeah... jailhouse, hoosegow. Right.

From the look on his face, she knew her son was adding the word to his vocabulary.

So long, folks, Hart said.

She thought she saw in his eyes that he was saying goodbye to his best friend.

So long, Michael said in his best cowboy style accompanied with a big, slow wave over his head.

Goodbye, she said, trying to fill her eyes with the image of the chivalrous cowboy.

Have I landed in a place where it’s not yet the twenty-first century?

If so, was it by invitation only?

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Blue Suit slapped Gray Suit on the arm to make sure he was paying attention. They watched as the gathering of townspeople melted away. Several relieved Hart of the deputy and appeared to take him straight to the hospital.

That gets the cop out of our hair. Blue Suit said.

That cop probably thinks he’s had a bad day. He don’t know how lucky he was. If them locals hadn’t beaten his brains out, we might had to blow them out, all two of them. Gray Suit squeezed his arm against his concealed holstered pistol, just checking.

You leave that where it’s parked until I tell you different. Okay?

Gray Suit didn’t answer.

Blue Suit slapped him on the arm. Okay?

Okay.

Okay.

That cowboy’s leaving. Now? Gray Suit asked.

Okay, get them. No guns.

The two big men stood outside their vehicle and made a quick 360 look around. All showed clear, no one paying them any attention. They walked at a normal pace toward the train. Blue Suit straightened his tie. Gray Suit fluffed his coat around his gun.

The woman, the boy, and the two suits lined up to board the train.

Dr. Poole? Blue Suit said.

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Judy didn’t recognize the voice, but she did recognize the tone. They really had found her and Michael. How could they know?

She spun around to the voice. He had on an expensive blue suit. Another guy in an expensive gray suit got behind Michael.

If you touch him I’ll kill you with a scalpel, one incision at a time, she said to Gray Suit.

Whoa, Mom! Michael said. Heavy metal!

Harming the boy is the farthest thing from our minds, Blue Suit said. We’re here to see to your safety, you and the boy

Is that your euphemism for kidnapping? she said.

We don’t use any of whatever that stuff is you’re talking about.

I think she means chloroform, Gray Suit said.

We don’t use no chloroform.

Idiots, she said.

We both been to college, Dr. Poole.

Like I said...

"Well, whatever, we don’t use no chloroform. Or none of that illegal