Broken Heart Tattoo


Broken Heart Tattoo


Broken Heart Tattoo

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A little over a year ago, I was sitting in the same chair where she now sat. She had her right arm propped on her knee and her left hand gripping the edge of my desk while her gaze traveled down the length of her arm as if it were a map to a treasure that could be found somewhere between here and there—the place where my father’s heart should have been buried.

“I didn’t know he’d died.” Her voice was so quiet it sounded like she spoke only to herself as she stared at his name etched into her skin, which was a part of him, but not all of him. “I don’t remember what happened after I left you behind…”

The last time I saw her before my father sent me away, she stood outside the house with her face pressed against the window and called out to me, “Don’t go!”

She was crying, and I felt like an outlaw who just killed one of the men she loved most. But instead of being ashamed of myself for doing something wrong, I couldn’t help feeling relieved that I’d finally been able to make up my mind about leaving.

And then the sheriff came and told us we were moving again and I wasn’t going anywhere anymore, but I knew better than anyone else did how quickly things changed and turned upside down when it came to my family.

When my mother died suddenly three years later, the pain I felt was almost unbearable. My sister went mad. It took me a long time before I realized she’d lost our mother, too. She blamed me for taking her from her best friend and said God was punishing me because I hadn’t been home when our mother needed me.

So now it was my fault that I’d made a bad decision that caused the death of both of them. If only I’d chosen differently.

It wasn’t until I was halfway across the country that I understood why people always talked about the heartache that follows love. When it came down to it, all I wanted was to be back in a place where the people who mattered to me lived and weren’t far away—where they would still recognize me after all this time.

So, when a telegram arrived informing us of my father’s accident, I decided to come home and find the answers that had eluded me all these years. But I was wrong… The first thing I learned when I got to town is that my father wasn’t the man I thought he was and neither was I.

Now, I’m staring down at an open journal with no idea what I am supposed to do next. I’ve tried searching for clues, but the truth is I don’t know how to read them, or even what I’m looking for. What I’ve found so far are words written by someone who never intended for those words to be revealed to others. They’re like riddles meant only for me…

I’m thinking that maybe the reason why I don’t understand her letters is that I haven’t given myself enough time to see them through. All I can say is that when I finally look at what she wrote with a clear head, the meaning will make itself known.

And when I do, I’ll know the woman who sat before me in the chair was my real mother and the girl I grew up with was really my sister, too.

But what if my search isn’t over? What if I’m wrong and the answer has already been in front of me this whole time and I just haven’t recognized it yet?

I think this is the point where I should tell you what happened before I arrived at her house, and how I met a young man named Ben who could have been my twin brother but wasn’t. How he told me that I had two mothers who loved me equally and I’d spent most of my life thinking otherwise.

And how he convinced me to stay and help him figure out what he was missing. But then I found out he wasn’t who I thought he was, either. He lied and stole money from our new employer—our new employer who was trying to protect my sister—and then disappeared.

All I can do now is hope he’ll return and tell me how to get to the bottom of this. Because if I don’t leave this town soon, I fear he may disappear forever.

I guess that’s what happens when you fall in love with a man and then find out it’s impossible to be together. When you give your heart away, you have to let it go, too. Or, at least I will.

***

“I’ve never seen you so quiet before.”

“I suppose you could say I’ve been under a lot of stress lately,” I told her, which was true since I’d been running all night, half-dead tired, and it was only lunchtime. “It was a hard decision for me to come back here and ask you these questions about my family. But the more I learn about them, the less I seem to know.”

She nodded slowly. “You’ve always been such a good listener. Your parents must be very proud of you. You didn’t have much trouble figuring out what happened when your father died.”

“He wasn’t the man I thought he was. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“There are things happening around here that we need to talk about, and the sooner the better. But for now, how about we eat a nice hot meal and rest a while? I have a guest room upstairs that’s waiting for you.”

We finished our lunches and then walked outside to take a quick walk around the town. While we were sitting on a bench watching people pass by, I told her my theory that the woman in the parlor was my mother, and the other person was her sister. She didn’t look surprised to hear it. In fact, she didn’t say anything at all. It made me wonder if there was something else she knew that might explain everything.

That’s when I remembered the letter. Maybe if I asked her about it, she would offer some insight. So, instead of answering the question directly, I said, “Do you remember reading anything in my father’s journal about a sister named Mary?”

When she started to shake her head, I went on, “Or a brother named Benjamin?”

After another moment, I saw the first glimmer of recognition cross her face. “What do you mean?”

“My name is Ben.”

“I thought maybe that’s who you were, but…you can’t be. I’ve read every word in his journal and you aren’t mentioned once. Not a single clue.”

“Maybe he never intended for me to know.”

“How can you say that? He was your father.”

I sighed. “No, not really. Our mother is the one who raised us both after our parents’ tragic deaths. And, as you know, she died shortly thereafter. We were left with nothing except each other.”

“Your mother never married again?”

“Nope.” I paused and then added, “And, no, we weren’t close friends, either.”

Her brow furrowed like she couldn’t believe what I was saying. That’s when I realized she probably assumed I’d come from a big family since our father was a doctor and our mother an accountant. The truth is that I grew up an orphan.

As if reading my mind, she said, “Don’t get me wrong, you’re a very handsome boy. But even handsome boys need a friend.”

“I’m sorry.”

I didn’t know why I felt bad telling her how alone I’d been until that very moment. Perhaps because the reality hadn’t fully sunk in yet or maybe I was just feeling sorry for myself. “I’ve missed having someone around to talk to.”

She smiled. “Me, too.”

We walked in silence for a while, but when we rounded the corner and came within sight of our hotel, I suddenly stopped walking. My eyes widened and I stared. There stood a woman and two children—a boy and a girl, both around five years old.

They looked to be about the right age for me and my sister to play with, but that wasn’t the most shocking thing about their presence. Their eyes were black as coal and seemed to stare straight through me. And then they turned and ran toward me.

A chill shot down my spine, and for a second, I had a feeling that this was going to happen—that those kids weren’t mine and neither was their mother. But the closer we got to them, the less convinced I became.

For one thing, it was strange that my sister would let these strangers run into her arms, but that was exactly what she did. Then I noticed that the woman wore a fancy dress with a white hat that looked more expensive than any hat I ever owned. She was also carrying a purse that was almost bigger than she was and the children were dressed nicely and had on shoes with shiny buckles.

“Who are you?” I demanded when we were still a few steps away from them.

The woman laughed lightly before saying, “They don’t have names yet, only numbers.” She glanced at the children again and then held out her hand. “I’m Ruth. These are my grandchildren.”

“How old are they?”

Ruth took her time answering. Finally, she said, “One month and eight months.” She hesitated and added, “I mean ten and three months.”

“You don’t sound like you’re joking.”

“I’m not,” she said in an apologetic tone. Then she added, “My husband passed away recently, so my daughter-in-law has decided to adopt the children.”

“How nice of her.”

I glanced back at my sister who was still holding the children in her arms. “Did you know you’re adopting children?”

“Yes, but…” She paused and then shook her head. “I can’t imagine raising my own children without the love and support of a loving family. I feel blessed that I’m being given another chance to be a mom.”

“It sounds wonderful.”

“So does having a family of your own, Ben. It was a terrible tragedy that led me here, but it also brought me the chance to be a part of one. Will you join us?”

“I…no.”

Her shoulders slumped slightly, and she sighed. When she opened her mouth to say something else, I interrupted her by asking, “Why is the hotel so empty? No staff in sight. Where’s Miss Daphne?”

She pointed behind me, indicating our room. “That’s where she is.”

“Why is she there? And why is it closed? I thought it was business hours now.”

“Actually, I think it’s only nine o’clock. Miss Daphne isn’t much for staying to a schedule.”

“But it’s almost dark and we haven’t eaten dinner yet.”

“Well, we could always eat here,” she suggested with a smile. “There’s plenty of food waiting.” She motioned toward the hotel and then continued, “We’re planning to go to church tomorrow night. You might want to join us.”

“Church?” I asked, surprised.

“Surely you wouldn’t mind joining us.” Her expression brightened when she caught sight of my hesitation. “It’s just a meeting of people of all races to pray to God. He’s never failed to provide.”

“I guess not.” I shrugged. “If there’s nothing better to do.”

When we entered the hotel, I was surprised to find it deserted, as well. Our father often worked late nights, and I assumed he’d be in his office. So I followed Ruth to the kitchen, hoping to catch him and get some answers. That was until I heard a voice behind me.

“Ben! Over here.”

I turned to see my sister waving to me. I couldn’t help smiling. In spite of the fact that we were no longer speaking, I liked the way she called me by name. We exchanged goodbyes and then headed upstairs to our room where we found a small table set for two.

A basket full of fruit and other goodies awaited us on the table, and even though I wasn’t hungry, I couldn’t resist eating while Ruth poured herself some coffee.

“I’m sorry if this isn’t how you usually eat or sleep.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Miss Daphne told me to expect you. She said you’ve been traveling since last night.”

I nodded and took a bite of my sandwich. The bread was soft and moist, but it didn’t taste half bad. “Do you know if Mr. Smith has arrived yet?”

“He should be arriving tomorrow morning. He had some trouble making his way up here.” She glanced at my plate, and then added, “But that was because he was trying to sneak onto the train.”

I chuckled. “What?”

“Well, we weren’t really sneaking around,” she replied with a grin. “The truth is, my brother-in-law was trying to steal cattle.”

“Steal cattle?” I exclaimed, shaking my head. “Why would anyone want to do that?”

“Money, Ben. That’s what he was after. But he’ll never be able to buy anything with stolen goods.”

“I suppose not.”

She cleared her throat and then added, “We’re having a church meeting tonight. Would you like to attend? I’m sure Miss Daphne wouldn’t mind if we invited you. It’s not every day that someone travels in from out west to visit.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude, but if I can, then yes. Please give me directions.”

“Of course. We’ll be happy to have you.”

***

“You won’t regret coming with us to church.”

“Thank you, Ruth.”

My sister smiled and gave me a nod before turning her attention back to our hostess, who stood beside us in the hallway. “And you don’t need to worry about your luggage. We’ve taken care of it. Miss Daphne says it’s best that we take extra precautions in case the sheriff comes calling.”

“Sheriff?” I repeated, confused by her words. “Are you telling me that there are lawmen in town?”

Ruth grinned again and answered, “Yes, but they’re not exactly as you might imagine. They’re not like the men in the movies.”

“I’m sure not,” I replied, still surprised. What other kind of sheriffs did she mean?

We entered the church just minutes later. The building looked similar to any church in the south, except that there was a large wooden cross hanging above the altar. As we walked in, I noticed that the pews were filled with people of all ages.

Men and women dressed in their Sunday best sat in silence, heads bowed in prayer. Some had tears in their eyes, and others prayed aloud, but I could tell most were sincere in their worship.

After we took our seats, I listened closely to the preacher for a moment, and I couldn’t help thinking, “So this is what a real minister sounds like?”

The reverend was older than our father and he had an easy way about him that made listening to him pleasantly. When he finished, I was amazed when he called for all men in the congregation to stand. I watched the man kneel down before the front row of pews and then return to his seat.

I assumed the ceremony was over so I started to sit again, only to realize that a tall white man who wore a long black coat and matching pants had risen from his seat in the back.

I couldn’t believe it. My heart skipped a beat when I recognized the sheriff standing among the crowd. I knew the sheriff, or rather he knew me, and I was well aware that he thought he’d caught me stealing cattle. It was possible that he was here to arrest me, but instead of doing so, he turned toward the pastor and asked, “Is there another church service scheduled for tomorrow?”

When the reverend shook his head, he answered, “No, but we hold services every Sunday.”

“Then I’ll meet you here tomorrow at ten.” The sheriff left without waiting for a reply.

“Who was that?” I whispered to Ruth as soon as the door closed behind the sheriff.

“That’s Sheriff Jones,” she replied quietly, then added, “He’s one of the good guys.”

The next morning, I woke up to find myself alone in bed. I wasn’t used to sleeping alone anymore, and my body reacted instantly with fear. I jumped out of my cot and ran into the room where I found Ruth already awake and seated at her dresser.

“Good morning, Ben,” she said cheerfully as she glanced over her shoulder.

“Morning,” I mumbled, rubbing my face with my hands and feeling exhausted from the previous night’s events.

“How are you today?”

“I think so.”

She nodded. “I hope so. Now go get yourself ready and then come join us for breakfast.”

“Breakfast,” I echoed, relieved that she seemed to be all right. “Thank you.”

She flashed a quick smile and went to turn on the water as I returned to my room. In the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and took care of other hygiene rituals. After dressing and eating a simple meal, I joined my sister in the living room of the house. She was sitting on the sofa in a plain brown dress and wearing her hair up.

Ruth looked much younger than I remembered from the previous night. Her blond locks were now neatly pinned back and her freckles weren’t so prominent. Maybe growing up in the country made some children more appealing. I didn’t know, but I was grateful for her presence and felt guilty that I hadn’t realized how much she’d helped me until now.

I was still puzzling over my sudden change of heart when I overheard Ruth explaining to our hostess why we were in Denver City. Our hostess was dressed in a long black skirt and a dark blue blouse that matched her eyes, while Ruth wore a light blue cotton sundress that showed off her freckled shoulders and arms.

The two women spoke in hushed tones about a young girl named Ruby, who was a distant cousin of the woman’s brother. I listened intently and finally understood how Ruth had known the man in front of us last night.

Our hostess smiled and told Ruth something else and then asked how old I was.

“Twenty-one,” I responded, and waited for the question that would make me feel old again. But the question never came. The older woman simply said, “It was good to see you again, Ben, and please stop by anytime. You can leave your things here if you need to stay longer.”

As we walked out the door, I asked, “What did she say about Ruby?”

“She wanted to know if she was really my cousin.”

I followed Ruth down the walkway, noting that the grass was freshly cut along the sides of the road leading to the porch steps. I assumed that meant they kept a regular schedule and trimmed the lawn once a week or so.

The house was large for a frontier community, but after leaving the church, I wondered how such a home could belong to an unknown woman who lived in town. Was she a businesswoman or just another wealthy rancher? I couldn’t believe it, but I also doubted that the woman was anything more sinister than I originally believed.

“What do you suppose that means?” I asked when we arrived at the front of the house and turned onto the dirt street.

“That I’m a relative of someone important and not a cattle rustler?”

“You mean the pastor thinks that you’re my cousin?”

“Yes, and it seems he knows exactly who you are too,” Ruth answered, looking at me strangely before asking, “Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”

“I don’t think I should have to explain that to anyone.”

“Ben, you’re not going to convince everyone around here to love you by being mysterious. And you’ve met some wonderful people already.”

“But they might not trust me like they did yesterday,” I argued.

“They won’t,” Ruth said firmly. “And I wouldn’t worry about it too much. You saved my life, remember? That counts for something.”

I stopped walking and turned to look at her.

“Now go put that sheriff badge away and enjoy this vacation, will you?”

I grinned at her and nodded as I went to open my trunk to retrieve my new hat. As I pulled out the hat box and laid the hat inside, a loud voice boomed from the other side of the porch, “Sheriff!”

A man stood there holding his gun and pointed at me. “Step down or you’ll be sorry.” He stepped closer and lowered the muzzle slightly. “Turn around slowly,” he ordered as he continued to aim at me. “No sudden movements.”

I didn’t move. “What do you want?”

“Who are you?”

“The same person I was when you first spotted me on the porch of the church.”

“You sure seem different this time.”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

He cocked his gun a little higher and asked, “What happened to the badge on your hat?”

“It fell off.”

He aimed farther down on my shirt. “Didn’t the sheriff notice you were gone?”

“Of course, I would have mentioned it. Why?”

“Just curious.”

His weapon moved upward, making me wonder if he planned to fire at me any second.

“Well, let’s go inside,” Ruth said from behind me. “We both know you aren’t the real sheriff and we should get inside before it gets dark.”

I started walking toward the door, wondering what the man intended to do next. I was relieved to enter a small foyer with a wide staircase leading up to a landing and a hall beyond. The place looked very tidy, and I thought maybe I’d been overreacting by worrying that Ruth might live in squalor.

“This is the guest room upstairs,” Ruth said as she closed the door behind us and locked it. I assumed that made sense since we needed some protection while we stayed in the city. I followed her up the stairs, noting that most of the rooms seemed empty. “Is there a kitchen where we can eat?”

“There are plenty of saloons to dine at, but I’m pretty sure they won’t serve you a meal unless you buy one,” I told her.

Ruth nodded, and then she stopped in front of the door at the top of the landing and said, “Let me take care of that now.”

I watched as she pushed open a tall wooden door, revealing a bedroom furnished with a double bed. She entered the room and shut the door again, which left me alone on the landing. I took in the view through a large window that overlooked the street and saw several men moving about.

One of them waved at me. It was a familiar face, but I couldn’t place who it belonged. Maybe I knew one of these men from somewhere else, or maybe he was just a friend of the family. Either way, it didn’t seem to bother the others. They kept talking and laughing together until they disappeared into the streets of the town.

As I waited on Ruth to finish, I noticed my own reflection in the mirror above the dresser. My clothes were covered with dust from traveling all day in my saddlebags and had lost their crispness. I ran a hand over my hair and tried to smooth out my uniform, realizing that I needed to wash it soon, but my mind had wandered far away from my duties as a lawman.

When Ruth came back downstairs, I was still standing near the window as if I’d been staring at nothing. I hadn’t meant to appear so disinterested, but I wasn’t used to having someone stay overnight in my home.

The last person to do so—my mother—had died suddenly when I was only twelve years old, and the house hadn’t been occupied since then. So it felt strange that another woman had taken up residence in the room below mine.

She unlocked the door and stepped aside, and I stepped inside, noticing she’d added a small brass bell to the door handle.

“Why did you add that?”

“Because you don’t live here and you shouldn’t have to wait outside for me,” she replied. “If you need anything, ring it three times and I’ll come right away.”

I nodded as I walked over to sit on a chair in front of the fireplace and wondered if Ruth was right about this being an odd arrangement. We could easily walk out the front door without anyone seeing us and ride away anytime we wanted to.

And why would either of us care? There would be no law in town if that were true. But there had to be some reason Ruth and I were living under false names and pretending to be strangers to each other. Something big must be going on. I hoped I’d figure out what it was sooner rather than later.

The End

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