Destined for A Life Together (Preview)

Prologue

Emily Benson stood with the shovel between her small hands, leaning on it slightly as she gazed out at the sun dipping slowly behind the mountains. It created streaks of yellow, orange, red and purple through the blue of the earlier daytime. 

It had been a long hard day for her. She and Samuel the Ox, had plowed the field, starting just after the sun came up and pausing only for a noon-time break. During that time, Emily had taken care of other chores, like gathering eggs from the chicken house and cleaning up the barn. 

She turned her head to look at the large animal, who stood motionless other than his thin tail swinging back and forth, probably to ward off flies.

“That was a good day of work, wouldn’t you say, Sam?” 

The animal didn’t reply. He didn’t even look at her. She chuckled, turning her eyes back to the horizon. She didn’t mind spending her days working hard. She just wished she wasn’t the only one who seemed to be putting any effort into the long-term survival of herself and her younger brother, Travis.

She had no idea what he was doing all day. What she did know was that he wasn’t there with her working on the farm. 

Emily and Travis had been left on their own when their father died. Nearly four years had passed since influenza took him. The strange thing about it was the same disease took their mother two years before that. 

Emily was just seventeen when the siblings were orphaned. They were left with the fully functioning farm, which Emily and several farmhands had taken care of while her father was sick. The men stayed around until Emily could no longer afford to pay them and then a week or so more because they felt sorry for the two young people. 

During those weeks after the death of her father, Emily decided to learn all she could about working the farm. She’d been spared those tasks as a child because there was money and men to do it. Now that there was neither, she knew she would have to pull up her bootstraps and do it herself.

Travis was just fourteen when their father died. He was strong and capable but lacked motivation and dedication. 

Now, at eighteen, he hadn’t gotten much better. 

She’d had to force him back then to learn what she was learning. She wasn’t sure he’d absorbed much of the information. It didn’t seem like he had. But it was impossible to tell, considering he was never around doing any work. How could she possibly know what he was capable of if he didn’t have the respect he needed to accomplish the tasks?

Emily shook her head, frustrated by her own thoughts. The sky was too beautiful, the landscape too alive, for her to be dwelling in misery. The work was hard but she loved doing it. It reminded her that she was young and strong. She could and had been running this farm successfully almost by herself for the last four years, despite being a woman. No one expected her to succeed. 

That was the very reason she would. She would show them what she was capable of.

“How’s your day been, sis?”

She heard Travis behind her and spun around, wishing he hadn’t been so sneaky about his approach. Especially after what she’d been thinking about. 

“Tiring,” she responded, eyeing him up and down. “And where have you been, brother dear?”

Emily loved Travis. There was no doubt about that. But she’d been getting more and more frustrated with him as the days passed. He was eighteen years old. She took in his appearance, the floppy hat sitting on his brown, curly hair, his loose white shirt and vest, trousers with dirt on them and muddy boots. 

“I guess you’ve been to the saloon all day?”

“Not all day!” Travis responded. “I don’t spent all day there. You want to say I do but I don’t.”

Emily pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him. “All right then. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Where else have you been today?”

Travis moved his eyes away from her, looking into the darkening sky as if he found it fascinating. From the way he swayed slightly, Emily could only imagine what he actually saw through his drunken eyes. A blur of color? Nothing at all? Whatever was in his mind’s eye, most likely.

Regardless, he certainly wasn’t thinking of where else he’d gone that day. He likely hadn’t been anywhere else. Emily didn’t know if he was lying or not. She didn’t keep regular tabs on him. 

“I, uh, had to go get some supplies for, uh, George, and, uh, I went to see if a couple fellas needed any work done. And I, uh, took a stroll through, uh, the field out there behind the mill. Just to look around.”

Emily snorted, shaking her head. “You’re a terrible liar, Travis. I fear for your future. I don’t think you will ever learn.”

Travis gave her a boyish grin. She sighed and rolled her eyes. 

“Help me get Samuel in and we’ll go have some dinner.” She lifted the shovel out of the ground and walked to her brother, her arm out to take him into a side hug. He laughed and clapped his hand on her back several times.

“I’m gonna find somethin’, sis, I swear. It’s just Rothenberg ain’t that big! There ain’t no jobs for me.”

Emily clucked her tongue at him. “There aren’t any jobs for you…” she corrected him.

His grin widened and his green eyes sparkled. “See? Even you agree with me.”

Emily gasped and had to laugh at what he’d just done. “Oh, Travis! You are truly awful. Come on. Help me with Samuel and stop all this nonsense. Tomorrow you go into town and I expect you to have some kind of employment, even if it’s just temporary, when you come home. If not, you’ll need to start staying home to help me out around here.”

Travis walked with her, pulling Samuel behind him. He rested his head on the top of hers, since he was taller.

“All right, Em. I’ll do what you want. But only because I love ya.”

“I love you, too, Travis,” Emily replied, giving him a squeeze.

Chapter One

Bo was looking a bit blurry. Seth Lambert narrowed his eyes and tried to focus on the bartender. Maybe he’d had a bit too much to drink. Despite that obvious fact, Seth lifted the glass to his lips and took a long swig of beer from it. 

The sound of the glass hitting the bar was much louder than Seth thought it should be. 

“Sorry about that,” he apologized to no one. Bo was at the other end of the bar talking to another patron. There were people behind him, a few gathered around the piano player who wasn’t playing, others sitting at tables playing cards, eating food or enjoying a chat over a beer.

But Seth was by himself. He’d been by himself for the last six months. 

Six months. That was how long it had been since his life was destroyed. 

Seth was listless, depressed, miserable. 

His life had been so full. He’d had adventures and fun and experienced the joy of true laughter. 

At twenty-six, he hadn’t found a wife but he hadn’t needed female companionship. He’d had his sister to keep him company. Those things that his sister couldn’t provide for him were sacred for the wife that he would eventually find. Until that woman showed her face, he’d been content to try to understand females based on his interactions with his sister.

At the age of 7 and 6, respectively, Seth and his sister, Marianne, had lost their parents when Indians raided their small village and killed as many white people as they could. Seth and Marianne had escaped in the back of a wagon carrying supplies away from the village as their friends and neighbors fled for their lives.

Seth remembered it like it was yesterday. He had never forgotten. He could still see Mr. Dungar grabbing both him and Marianne up by their waists, lifting them at the same time and tossing them into the back of the wagon. They landed on soft sacks that Seth later found out were filled with blankets. 

The siblings were quickly covered by other items blocking them from sight. He remembered the violent rocking of the wagon as the horses ran full speed to get the children and the supplies away. 

Seth and Marianne had grown up in the care of the Dungars. As much as they appreciated the caregiving, the siblings had left a decade later, deciding to become bounty hunters and fight outlaws who preyed on the innocent. 

“You doin’ all right there, buddy?” 

Seth looked up when he heard the question directed at him. Bo had come over and had a concerned expression on his wide, round face. 

“I’m fine,” Seth replied, his voice somewhat cold, “why do you ask?”

“You look like you’re gonna cry, if I’m honest,” Bo replied. “You thinkin’ about Marianne again?”

Seth couldn’t be angry at the man for being worried. Marianne’s death had spun him around and knocked him down. He thought he was strong and invincible. Now he felt like an arm and a leg had been ripped from his body.

“Yeah,” he answered with a sigh. “I… I miss her.”

“I’m sure ya do.” Bo made a fresh beer and slid it to him, removing the empty glass. “We all do. She was a great gal.”

Seth didn’t say anything else. He stared down into the swirling liquid. The thought that another beer was probably not what he needed ran through his mind like a rabbit being chased. It was there and then it was gone. He lifted the glass and took a sip. 

For a few moments there, he’d been so deep in his memory, he’d forgotten where he was. He thought only about Marianne, felt her there beside him once more, felt her presence around him. 

Now he was back in reality. Now it wasn’t the memory of their rescue that held him captive. 

It was the memory of her death.

They’d arrived in Mount Pleasant for a reason that defied the name of the small town. A known outlaw and his gang had settled there for the time being and were wreaking havoc on the citizens. They’d corrupted the mayor and now the laws being imposed were making the place similar to Nottingham in the Robin Hood stories. 

Declan Booth was the most evil man Seth had ever met. He’d been apprehensive about this job since Marianne told him about it. He’d gone over every aspect of it with her. They had a strict plan. They would go to the house where Declan and his men were settled. They’d wait until the right moment, to be decided upon when they got to that point, and then they would pounce. They’d used that method to capture and kill outlaws in the past. There was no reason to think it wouldn’t work again this time.

They reached the house only a few minutes after passing the first buildings on the main street into Mount Pleasant. It looked like a peaceful, quiet, two-story home. A family might as well have lived there. It was the kind of place where one expected to see stray toys scattered about in the yard and a swing attached to the tree with thick rope. 

But it wasn’t a family living there. Maybe a family of thieves. 

Seth and Marianne stayed hidden behind the trees. They were both so confident.

Thinking back on the entire situation, Seth was ashamed and regretful that they’d gone in thinking they would be able to defeat the known outlaw and his gang of quick-draw bandits. 

One of those men had a fast draw and sharpshooter aim. And he’d taken Marianne from Seth without a thought, without hesitation. 

Seth was the one who had run away. He’d been the one to flee. He’d grabbed his sister and left that place on one horse, sobbing as he went, unable to believe Marianne had just been shot down.

Declan himself had pulled the trigger. Standing on the porch of the house in Mount Pleasant, the man had shot Marianne dead in the blink of an eye.

Now he was without his partner, his anchor, his person. 

“Seth, you gotta take it easy on yourself.”

A new voice filled his ear, one he hadn’t heard for some time now. 

He felt a hand on his back and swung his head lazily to the side to look through his blurry vision at the pastor, Victor Lumbard, had come to find him.

“What are you doing in Satan’s den?” he asked sarcastically.

“Hey!” Bo spat out indignantly. “This ain’t no den of Satan.”

“He was just kidding, Bo. Calm down,” the pastor lifted one hand in Bo’s direction. Bo gave Seth a narrow-eyed, irritated look before turning away and sauntering to the other side where a man had his hand up to get the bartender’s attention. “You should be nice to him,” Pastor Vic spoke quietly to Seth.

Seth appreciated the pastor and his kindness. He stayed quiet, hoping the man would impart some wisdom and peace on him. 

“He’s the one who sent little Michael to get me. He wanted me to come and talk to you. Would you like to take a walk with me?”

Seth wouldn’t have minded a walk. But the thought of getting up and exerting energy wasn’t really on the agenda. He shook his head. 

“No. Not… not yet. Maybe in a little bit?” He turned his head back to the beer glass. He surrounded it with one hand and thought about lifting it to his mouth to drink some but decided not to. He was more comfortable just sitting still, not doing anything. Just existing. That’s all he was good for anymore. It was a good thing his parents had left him and Marianne some money. The Dungars were also very supportive, if he needed it. Otherwise, he would have been living on the street. 

As it was, he owned his house, his horse and had money in accounts he’d saved over the years after the death of his parents. He didn’t have to do anything. 

Chapter Two

“You’re not really living, are you, Seth?”

It was as if the pastor could read his mind. He sobered up slightly and looked at the man directly. “No,” he answered bluntly. “I’m not. And there’s nothin’ you or anyone can do about it. Not you. Not God. Nobody.”

The pastor lifted his dark eyebrows. Seth could see his Italian roots in the expression and the features of the older man’s face. “What? You think God is incapable of doing anything about your grief? I promise you, He can give you peace.”

Seth looked away, shaking his head. “I’ve been to church enough – to your church, too, mind you – I’ve been to church enough to know He can but there’s a good chance He won’t when it comes to praying for something.”

“This is a different situation,” the pastor replied in a soft voice. “However, I did not come here to preach to you. I came to offer you comfort. How about that walk? You ready for that now?”

Seth sighed. The pastor wasn’t going to let up. Not that he really wanted the man to. He wanted and needed help. He was wasting his life because he had the means to do so. But someday that money would run out, too, no matter how little he spent. He wasn’t doing anything. 

He nodded, pushing away the half-full glass of beer. He looked over at Bo and got his attention by snapping his fingers. He indicated with his eyes and his pointing finger that he was leaving money on the table for the beer he’d drunk. Bo nodded, watching Seth drop two fifty-cent pieces on the counter.

Seth noticed the pastor eyeing the two coins.

“You’ve been running a tab?” he asked.

Seth looked back at the money as he slid off the stool.

He shook his head. “Nah, I never run a tab. I just like to give Bo more than he charges. He’s a good man and he puts up with my grumpy behavior. He was my friend before I… before Marianne left… and he’s still a good friend now.”

Pastor Vic walked next to him as they weaved around the tables to leave the saloon. 

“Yes, I would agree with that.”

They were soon outside, where the bright sun burst into Seth’s eyes like a spotlight had been directed right at him. He lifted a hand and blocked it, turning his head away and closing his eyes. 

“Good Lord,” he exclaimed.

“Ah,” the pastor said with a soft laugh, “you haven’t seen the daylight in that long? My goodness, you stay in the saloon all day and all night, do you?”

“Of course not,” Seth replied, giving the pastor a side-glance as he began to walk in the direction of his house. “Somedays I stay home. Somedays I ride around my property.”

“Are you having trouble getting out of bed?”

Seth nodded. He didn’t mind admitting those facts to the pastor. He desperately wanted to find a way to live again. To feel alive. At first, his friends had told him to find a woman and get married. They said it would distract him from his grief and pain. 

Seth had told them that was the dumbest idea he’d ever heard of. One even brought up the mail order bride scheme many men had been doing to find a wife. Seth wasn’t interested. He’d had the best woman in his sister and partner. If he was expected to give even more of himself to a wife, she would have to live up to his high expectations. Somehow he doubted there was a woman out there capable of such a thing. Filling Marianne’s shoes? 

Impossible.

“I don’t think your sister would be happy to see you like this.”

Seth grunted, frowning at the pastor. “Don’t you think that’s something I know? I don’t want to feel this way, Pastor. I need something to fill my days so I can sleep at night. I need to work, to go hunt bad men, to ride my horse and go and see places I’ve never been or seen. But I can’t. I can’t do anything anymore.”

Seth felt like screaming. As always, though, he kept his composure. He wanted to lash out. He couldn’t. 

Sighing, he shook his head. “I didn’t mean to burst out at you like that, Pastor. Forgive me.”

The older man pressed his lips together and gave Seth a pat on the back. “Don’t you worry, son. It takes a lot to offend me. I’ve had other people yell at me for far worse. I’m worried about you and yes, I can see you truly want to end the grieving process. It is as though you can accept it but part of you is holding you back.”

“I feel like I don’t have the energy. Not to mention, I’m going to start second-guessing every move I make.”

“You do know that you are not responsible for what happened to her.” The pastor sounded so firm about it. When news had gotten back to their hometown about the death of half of the Lambert Bounty Hunters, who had been so successful at bring justice to so many, it had broken many hearts. When Seth himself had returned to town, he’d been lauded as a hero and given gifts of kindness and self-sacrifice. Women made him dinner so he didn’t have to, men offered to do repairs around his house. The outpouring had been tremendous.

And when the initial grief response had died down, Seth was left with a dark, cold, quiet loneliness that he was beginning to find intolerable. He would never hear her voice again. He would never hear her laugh. There would be no tickling, no shooting competitions, no footraces. 

Seth allowed the grief wave to wash over him. Tears filled his eyes and his throat constricted. He stopped walking and lowered his body so he was holding himself up with his hands on his knees. He locked his elbows so his sobs would not make him bowl over. 

“Oh Seth…” The pastor’s sympathy made the grief wave stronger. “Seth.” The pastor put both hands on Seth’s shoulders, squeezing him and patting him. “I’m so sorry, son. So sorry.”

Seth sucked in a deep breath, halting the tears. He stood up straight, whipping the handkerchief he carried with him out of his pocket and pressing it against his eyes. He could feel how swollen they were and he looked around, embarrassed. 

No one was looking at him. There were people walking by on the other side of the street, merchants out in front of their stores, men on horseback and women in buggies, waiting patiently for their companions to come back. But no one was staring at him. 

Seth knew they saw what had happened. 

He was grateful to live in a place where everyone knew his name and everyone liked him. 

He sniffed and snorted, wiping his face, recovering from the grief wave. “I’ll be all right,” he murmured, in a voice that indicated he wasn’t so sure of that.

“Ah, I know you will be, Seth.” The pastor continued to pat him on the shoulder, even though Seth was a few inches taller. “I know you will be but right now you aren’t. You’re still suffering. I want to help you with that. I’m here to listen to you, son. No matter what you want to talk about. It could be about Marianne if you want. Or you can talk about something else. The Dungars. Your parents. Those things. All the things that make you feel so hurt inside.”

“Thanks for standing with me,” Seth said, pushing the handkerchief back in his pocket and taking a few steps forward. The pastor walked beside him. “I’m lucky to be in a town like this. No one is judging me.”

Pastor Vic shook his head. “We all knew her, too. We loved her, too. The two of you were in the newspapers and we all discussed your adventures at length, very often over the dinner table.”

Seth felt a moment of indignation. “I’m sure there was a lot of discussion about how I could let the man who killed my sister go free. How I could run like a coward instead of die fighting like she did.”

“There was absolutely no reason for you to lay your life down at that man’s feet!” Pastor Vic replied harshly. “You and Marianne were doing your job. You were ambushed and that is the only reason you were unable to bring Booth to justice.”

Seth’s skin tingled when the pastor mentioned the outlaw’s name. He clenched his teeth.

“I will have it,” he said, closing his hands into tight fists. “I will have justice.”

---

“Destined for A Life Together” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Emily Benson loves her brother Travis dearly, but has begun to notice changes in his behavior lately. She is devastated to learn he has accepted a job with some dangerous men and that he will be leaving their family farm. How can she just let her brother go, knowing he could be in such great danger? By some miracle from above, while Emily is in the midst of this predicament, an experienced bounty hunter offers to help her.

Could this intriguing stranger be her chance at saving her brother, or will he be the one to bring him to justice?

For years, Seth Lambert traveled around the west coast with his sister, working as very successful bounty hunters. On their last job together, disaster strikes and leaves him alone, wandering from town to town. Seth is completely distraught and disorientated, and when Emily comes along, he feels his heart beating for someone for the first time. But the only thing he wants to find is a chance to avenge the tragedy thrown upon his family, and his thirst for revenge could consume him whole…

Will his claim to happiness be through revenge, or love?

If Seth and Emily are to save Travis from a terrible fate, they need to put their obvious attraction for each other on hold until they succeed… Will Emily lose her brother to the same man who caused Seth all this misery? Will the power of love prevail over their need for vengeance?

“Destined for A Life Together” is a historical western romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

Get your copy from Amazon!