Eleven

“Where’s Seth?” Amanda asked the minute she regained consciousness. Ginny and Jim knelt next to her. “I need to…” She started to get to her feet but began coughing and sank back to the floor. Her chest felt as if it had been filled with wet mud, her throat like it was lined in sand.

“He’ll be fine,” Ginny assured her just as they heard a gunshot followed by a horse’s shrieks and hoofbeats pounding past the door of the pharmacy.

“Help me up,” Amanda pleaded. “I have to know. I have to see.”

Using Jim’s shoulder as support, she pushed herself to her feet and stumbled to the door. When she stepped into the alley, Ollie and other men from town were moving toward her, sloshing water onto the remains of the fire.

“They’re going to get away,” she managed to say, although surely, since she was waving her hands wildly in the direction of the horses gathered at the other end of the alley, her message should be clear.

She was just able to make out Seth’s familiar form when she saw a large man throw himself on him.

“No!” she choked as she stumbled forward, unheeding of the footsteps behind her and the pleas for her to wait. “Stop!”

“Oh, Amanda, thank heaven,” a woman cried. “These horrible men were taking me as their hostage, and who knows…”

Still dazed, Amanda peered into the darkness. “Mrs. Rosewood?”

The next thing she knew, someone had his brawny, smelly forearm around her neck and was dragging her backward. “Ma, this here’s the one saw me shoot the prospector.”

Ma?

Amanda’s eyes sought and found Seth, who looked as if he might be ready to singlehandedly take on the gang—and their mother. “Let her go,” he growled. “You need a hostage, take me. Wells Fargo will pay the ransom.”

None of this made sense to Amanda. Mild-mannered Mrs. Rosewood was the mother of outlaws? And why would Wells Fargo care in the least what happened to Seth? She needed answers, but she could hardly breathe, much less raise questions, with her body pressed against the outlaw.

Recalling a stage tactic that a friend had once shown her for faking a faint, she allowed her body to go limp, and in the instant it took for the man holding her to adjust to this shift in her weight, she drove her elbow into his midsection with all her might as she twisted away from him. The air came out of him with a satisfying whoosh.

What happened next was a blur of motion and noise. Gunshots as Jim and others dove for cover. Seth coming toward her as he fell face down in the street. Behind him, Mrs. Rosewood slowly lowering the gun still smoking from the discharge.

Amanda dodged the outlaw’s attempt to recapture her.

“Leave her,” she heard Mrs. Rosewood order. “I should never have believed you boys could pull this off. Now mount up, and let’s get out of here before that mob strings us all up from the nearest tree.”

To Amanda’s surprise, all the men followed her orders, mounting their horses and riding away hard and fast. At the far end of the alley, she saw shadowy figures moving toward her through the smoke from the extinguished fire. She knew they were calling to her, but she couldn’t make out their words.

All she knew for sure was that if Seth was dead, then she had lost everything she had ever dreamed of having in her life. And if that was the case, what did she care if outlaws got away? What did she care about anything? Without Seth, she had no future, and Amanda had spent far too much time daydreaming about her perfect future to let anything—or anyone—stop her now.

* * *

Seth felt the balm of water, drops that dotted his face and trickled down his cheeks to his neck. He was cradled against someone—a woman—and for an instant he thought maybe in death a fellow returned to his youth, and the days of being held by his mother. That was comforting.

He struggled to open his eyes, wanting to see what things were like on the other side. But the searing pain in his back made it impossible to focus. There was a woman all right, and she was crying, which explained the wetness on his face. There were others as well, crowding around, shouting orders, tugging at the woman holding him.

“Come on, Amanda,” he heard a man say. “Let me take a look at him.” Seth thought he knew that voice—the pharmacist.

He understood then that he was not dead, and the woman holding him was not his mother, but Amanda. He fought for full consciousness so he could reassure her that it would take more than a bullet in the shoulder to keep him from spending the rest of his days with her. But then he heard another voice, also male, but rougher. The banker.

“Amanda, pull yourself together,” Ezra Baxter instructed. “Come, let me take you back to the house and…”

She tightened her arms around Seth. “Get away from me,” she whispered in a feral hiss he barely recognized as her voice. “You belong in jail—you and the sheriff and…”

Afraid that she was about to get herself shot as well, Seth found the strength to touch her hand. As he had hoped, the unexpected sign of life ended her tirade and brought her attention fully to him. “Seth?”

“Right here,” he managed.

“Oh, Seth, please don’t die on me.” The tears were a downpour now, as she placed kisses on his hair and forehead.

“Not planning on it,” he whispered, and then things went black.

The next time he came to, it was daylight, and he was lying on a bed in a room with large windows that looked out onto the town. He was back at the boardinghouse, but this wasn’t his room.

He let his eyes adjust to the light as he scanned his surroundings and saw Amanda asleep in a rocking chair pulled close to his bedside. She was still wearing the blue party dress, now scorched at the hem, and her hair covered her shoulders and half her face, which was smudged with soot from the fire.

He heard footsteps in the hallway and turned his attention to the door. For one brief instant he wondered what had happened to his gun. For that matter, where were his clothes? He was shirtless and wearing only his underwear under the covers. When he tried to move, he saw his torso had been tightly wrapped in a bandage that looped over his left shoulder.

“Well, look who decided to come back among the living,” Miss Dooley whispered as she tiptoed into the room and set a tray on the edge of the writing desk near the window. “Glad she finally lost the battle to stay awake.” She jerked a thumb at Amanda then poured tea into a cup and brought it to him. “She was determined to keep her vigil, and my guess is she’ll be madder than a—”

Amanda sat up suddenly. She looked at Seth, her eyes wide with panic, and he realized it was half a minute before she realized he was awake and sipping some of the bitter brew Miss Dooley called herbal tea.

“Mornin’,” he croaked. If he had hoped she would run to him, throw herself onto the bed and wrap her arms around him, he was sadly disappointed.

She scowled at the sunlight streaming through the large windows, then turned to Miss Dooley. “You let me sleep.”

“I didn’t ‘let you’ do nothin’, missy. You’re as human as the rest of us, and that means, sooner or later, you’re gonna need to close those big green eyes of yours whether you like it or not.”

Amanda’s expression softened to one of tender concern as she stood next to the bed and brushed Seth’s hair away from his forehead. “How’s the pain?”

“It’s there,” he said, and tried to grin.

“I’ve sent for Addie. Jim was amazing in getting the bullet out, but you need to be examined by a real doctor. Addie will know what’s best.”

“We have doctors here in Tucson,” Miss Dooley said.

Amanda and Seth ignored her.

“Any word from Sam?” he asked.

“Who is Sam?” The two women spoke in unison.

Seth shook his head to clear it and grimaced at the pain that shot up his side. “My brother,” he managed, realizing there had been no time to let Amanda know that he had found his brother.

“He had a part in this business?” Miss Dooley eyed him suspiciously, as if she had not quite made up her mind if he could be trusted.

The jig was up, and he’d already decided to leave his job with Wells Fargo, so what would be the harm in telling them everything? But caution was inbred in him, so he ignored the landlady’s question. “Did the Stock gang get away clean?”

“So far,” Miss Dooley replied before Amanda could tell him anything. “Them and that woman. Mrs. Rosewood indeed,” she huffed. “Well, I’ll let you know soon as the doctor gets here. Meanwhile, Miss Porterfield, may I suggest you find time to make yourself a bit more presentable? You can use my room and the bath downstairs.”

“Someone needs to stay here with—”

“I’ll be all right, Amanda. Go on now.” The truth was he needed time to think, to replay everything that had happened before he got shot. Where had he last seen Sam? And where was the kid now?

* * *

Amanda gathered fresh clothing while Miss Dooley kept a close watch on her from the doorway. Taking things from her wardrobe with Seth lying there watching her seemed incredibly intimate in spite of Miss Dooley’s presence. She had refused to leave Seth when they brought him back to the boardinghouse, but Miss Dooley had insisted it would be inappropriate for Amanda to be in Seth’s room, and had finally agreed to allow him to lie in her bed—as long as the door remained wide open.

As she gathered her brush and extra pins for her hair, Amanda felt her cheeks and the back of her neck flush. She found it impossible to look at Seth directly as she bundled her things in her arms and left the room.

Downstairs, Miss Dooley instructed Bessie to prepare a bath for Amanda and to see that she had something to eat. Under any other circumstances, Amanda would have been tempted to linger in the warm water, even after she had soiled it by washing the grime and smoke from her hair. But now that Seth had regained consciousness, there were other matters that needed her attention.

Eli and Ellie topped that list. Kitty Caldwell had assured Amanda that, even as their father was led off to jail by the sheriff’s deputy—the sheriff himself having been killed—she would stay with the twins and make sure they were safe. That had been a relief. On the other hand, Eli had clearly had a part in it all—even serving as messenger—and she worried that he might take matters into his own hands and make a run for it.

With a weary sigh, she climbed out of the tepid water, wrapped herself in a towel, combed her wet hair before braiding it, and then got dressed in the clothes she regularly wore for teaching.

“I need to see about the Baxter children,” she told Bessie as she hurried through the kitchen on her way out the back door. “Please come get me as soon as Dr. Porterfield arrives.”

To her relief, when she reached the Baxter house, she found Kitty and the twins clearing away the aftermath of the previous night’s party. All three turned to her when she entered the dining room.

“Is he dead?” Eli asked, stuttering with fear.

“No. The doctor is on her way, and we will know more about the extent of his injuries once she has examined him. In the meantime, Eli, I would like a word with you.” She pointed to the library, waited for him to precede her, and then closed the sliding doors with a soft click. “Sit down.” She indicated the chair where his father usually sat and then took the chair opposite him. “You are an extremely intelligent young man, so I assume you have already realized the extent of the trouble that you and your father are in.”

“I wanted to help my father. I heard him telling Sheriff Richter that the bank was about to fail, so I went to the sheriff, and he said I could help my father by running those messages to and from the old ranch.”

“Are you saying that your father is guilty in this crime?”

“No!” Eli’s eyes were wide with confusion. “They blackmailed him. It was the only choice. Sheriff Richter said that they would ruin him and the bank unless I did…”

The boy was near hysterics as he defended his father, who had struck him repeatedly and abused him verbally. There were some things about love that Amanda would never understand.

She reached across the space between them and patted his knee. “It’s all right, Eli. I’m just trying to understand.”

“My father is not a bad man, Miss Porterfield.”

She wondered if Ezra had any idea how loyal and devoted his son was to him. “Then let’s try and figure out how we can help get him through this. Start by telling me everything you know about the gang and the plan to rob the bank.”

“I already told the detective all I know.”

“The detective?”

“The guy that got shot. He works for Wells Fargo undercover, but the gang had him already figured out.”

Amanda took a moment to digest this news. It made sense of the secrecy and the late night outings. On the other hand… “Eli, do you know someone named Sam?”

The boy frowned. “Sam?”

“He’d probably be a little older than you, and he would be involved somehow in this mess.”

“There was a kid—after the old prospector stopped being the one to leave the notes for me to pick up, it was that guy.”

“He was a member of the gang?”

Eli shrugged. “All I know is one night when I picked up the messages I took to that woman at Miss Dooley’s place, there was an envelope with my name on it, and inside was a message I was to deliver to Mr. Grover.”

“And did you?”

“That’s how he knew to be there last night at the bank.” He refused to look directly at her.

“Eli, did you read that message?”

He nodded. “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I thought maybe…” He stopped talking and stared out the window. “I don’t know what I thought, Miss Porterfield.” He glanced at her. “What do you think will happen to Father?”

Eli looked so miserable that Amanda’s heart went out to him. “I don’t know, Eli, but while this gets sorted out, you must tell the authorities everything you know, everything you saw or heard in the weeks leading up to the robbery. Never has it been more important that you tell the truth, do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am. Can I go now?”

“You may,” she replied. “Just stay here. We’ll work this out, and Ellie needs you more than anyone else right now.”

Eli nodded and left the room. Amanda stayed seated by the cold fireplace. If the youngest member of the gang was Seth’s brother, what would happen to him? And what would that do to Seth? He was in no condition to go after his brother and rescue him from the gang, and yet she knew he would try.

Kitty knocked lightly at the library door. “The lady doctor and her husband just pulled up.”

Jess. Her brother would surely know how best to go about tracking down Seth’s brother and getting him safely away from the outlaws. “Make sure Eli and Ellie stay here, Kitty,” she said as she hurried away.

Jess and Addie were climbing the front steps when Amanda came running to reach them before they entered the house, where Miss Dooley or someone else might hear her. Her breath still came in short bursts after the smoke and fire. She told them about Seth’s injuries in as few words as possible, and blessedly, Addie didn’t wait for more information. Instead she grabbed her black bag and entered the house, but Amanda kept Jess from following with a hand on his forearm.

“I need your help, Jess.” She told him about Seth’s younger brother and her fear that the boy was mixed up with the outlaws. “I think Seth will try and go after him, and he’s in no condition—”

“It’s out of my hands, Amanda. I have no jurisdiction, even if I wanted to help.”

“But, Seth will—”

Jess took hold of her shoulders and stopped short of shaking her. “Seth Grover is nobody you need to concern yourself with, Amanda. He’s on the right side of the law, but he’s not for you. He’ll break your heart at the very least, and at the very worst, he’ll get you killed if you insist on hanging around him. So stay clear, understood?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, but released her and followed Addie inside.

Amanda remained standing on the steps, her mind working as she tried to think what her next move should be. Jess didn’t know Seth the way she did. The man would take a bullet for her—had taken a bullet for her—and the only possible way to repay him would be to find his brother. Her decision made, she marched up the front steps and then to her room, where Addie completed her examination of Seth’s injuries.

“Well?”

“He’ll live,” Addie replied as she replaced her stethoscope in the bag and stepped into the hall. “It’s a flesh wound. Could have been a lot worse. That pharmacist of yours did a very good job bandaging him until he could get the stitches he needed.”

“But he’s going to make a full recovery?”

“It’ll be awhile before he’s back on his feet, especially given the damage he did to that ankle on top of getting himself shot, but he’ll be all right.”

“That’s good.”

“I gave him a sleeping powder,” Addie continued. “The best medicine right now is rest, and under no circumstances should he try to get up—except for personal reasons, of course. What’s he doing in your room instead of his own?”

Amanda wasn’t in the mood to explain. “It just turned out that way. We didn’t have a lot of time to think. He was bleeding and kept blacking out and—”

“He asked for you,” Addie interrupted. “He seemed quite concerned that you might be in danger.”

Amanda saw that her friend was studying her closely. “He has no need to worry.”

“And yet worry he does. Perhaps it would be best if you stayed nearby. Being under duress will not help the healing.”

“He’s occupying my room. I have little choice but to.”

“Jess and Bessie can help him move back to his room. I believe he will be more comfortable there—less likely to concern himself with the idea that he is putting you out. But he’ll want to know you’re nearby—and safe. So stay put.”

“Perhaps I should sit with him until the medicine takes effect.”

Addie smiled. “Perhaps you should. I think having you as his nurse would be very good for Seth’s recovery. I also think it would be quite positive for your peace of mind.”

“Stop playing doctor,” Amanda replied, but she grinned at Addie as she returned to the chair near Seth’s bed.

An hour later, Seth was settled in his room, half sitting against a stack of pillows. Jess stood nearby, his arms folded, his expression one of exasperation. “Are you gonna tell me what you know?” he repeated.

“Probably not,” Seth replied calmly.

Jess threw up his hands and advanced a step closer to the bed. Knowing her brother’s hair-trigger temper, Amanda moved between him and Seth. She could feel the edge of the bed pressed against the backs of her knees.

“Calm down, Jess,” she said. “Addie says that—”

“Addie’s done her job here, and now I need to do mine, so back off, Sis.”

“You calm down first, and then we’ll see.” Behind her she heard something close to a snort and guessed Seth was covering a laugh. “And you,” she continued, turning to face him, “are hardly in a position to hold secrets, so tell the man what he needs to know to hunt down those outlaws.”

She looked from one man to the other. Both scowled as if she were somehow the problem. She placed her hands on her hips and tapped one toe impatiently to emphasize her point. “Well?”

Seth eyed Jess the way he might gauge the trustworthiness of a wild mustang. “My best guess is they’re headed for the border.”

Jess laughed. “Tell me something I don’t already know, Grover.”

“All right. My younger brother might be trying to trail them. He fancies himself a detective, working for Wells Fargo.”

“Takes after you, does he?”

Seth shrugged. “Fact is, I couldn’t give a hoot if Rudy Stock and his mama get clean away at this point. But my brother is another matter.”

“You can’t expect me to go after your brother when there’s a gang of outlaws on the loose.”

“I didn’t think tracking down outlaws was in your jurisdiction,” Seth shot back.

Amanda was fast running out of patience with the two of them. “For goodness sake, could we not argue the finer points here, and decide what’s to be done?”

“You stay out of this,” the two men said in unison.

Amanda could not help but smile. It was the first time her brother and the man she loved had agreed on anything.

* * *

Seth liked Amanda’s brother, and he was pretty sure that if anybody could hunt Sam down and get him to safety, it would be the marshal. Problem was the marshal wasn’t interested, and Seth understood that. Jess was not there to find some lost kid. He was there because dangerous outlaws were on the run.

He decided to tell him what he could. “I’ve been tailing them for a couple of years now,” he said, and saw the tension in Jess’s shoulders ease slightly. He also noticed how Amanda’s expression radiated interest. “Amanda, could you get me some fresh water?” he asked, making sure to add a little grimace of pain to the request.

She was obviously reluctant to leave the room, but he was pretty sure her concern for his comfort would overcome anything else. She picked up the pitcher and headed for the door, then turned back. With a smile that dripped with sweetness, she said, “Whatever you tell my brother, be prepared to repeat it when I return.”

As soon as she had shut the door, Jess chuckled. “My sister has a way of getting what she wants, Grover.”

“Well, in this case, a little knowledge could be a dangerous thing. Unless you promise to help find my brother, Amanda will strike out to find him herself.”

Jess’s smile turned to a frown. “Then we’ll tell her it’s all arranged…right?”

“You’re saying you’ll look for Sam?”

“I’m saying I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep Amanda safe, including lie to her. You, on the other hand, have a choice to make—your brother or my sister. If you tell her the truth, that I’m only interested in hunting down the outlaws, then you’re right. She’ll strike out on her own to find your little brother. On the other hand, if you love her—and I think you do—you’ll go along with whatever I tell her.”

Seth did not like the idea of lying to Amanda, but he could see that Jess was right. Lying would keep her safe. Telling her the truth would practically assure she’d put herself in danger.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said, and saw Jess tense once again. “I’ll follow your lead with Amanda as long as you keep an open mind when it comes to Sam. He’s not part of the gang, and I don’t want to see him get caught up in a shoot-out, should things come to that.”

Jess hesitated then stuck out his hand. “Deal. I’ll even go a step beyond that. If I hear news of your brother—someone has seen him or such—I’ll make sure to get it to you. Have you got someone you can trust to follow up on leads until you’re back on your feet?”

Seth accepted the handshake. “I’ve got some thoughts on that. Thank you, Marshal.”

“Make that Jess. In spite of my concerns, I’m pretty sure one of these days—sooner rather than later—you and me might be family.” He reached for his hat and opened the door just as Amanda returned with the water. “You been listening at keyholes again, Sis?” he asked, and without waiting for an answer, squeezed past her and hurried down the stairs.

Amanda filled Seth’s empty glass before setting the pitcher on the table. “Well?” She handed him the water and waited while he took time to drink. He knew she was well aware that he was stalling, so he did the one thing he hoped would throw her off track.

As he swallowed the last of the water and handed her the glass, he said, “I was thinking maybe once I can do a proper job of it, I might ask you to marry me.”

The glass clattered to the floor, but did not break. Amanda ignored it as she turned her attention to him. “I do not…I am not…how dare you?”

He shrugged, inwardly tickled at the way her cheeks had gone all pink, and how for once in her life she couldn’t find words to express what she felt. “It’s a pretty straightforward suggestion. Just wanted to see what you thought about the idea.”

“You mean before you committed to a formal proposal? You mean in case I turn you down flat? You mean before you invest your hard-earned money in a proper engagement present?”

“Nope. What I’m saying is that it might be some time before I can do this right, and in the meantime, I want you to know my intentions. Now, if marrying me is not something that appeals to you, then we can—as my pa often says—cut bait and move on. On the other hand…”

Miss Dooley opened the door and surveyed the room. “The marshal has left?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Seth replied, his eyes still on Amanda.

Miss Dooley flung the door wide open and advanced on Amanda. “And what have I told you, missy, about allowing yourself to be alone in a room with this man—any man?” The way she frowned at Seth, it went without saying that she was mentally adding especially this one.

“Mr. Grover was just in the process of proposing marriage,” Amanda replied, her smile tight and her tone challenging as she gazed at him.

Their landlady was struck speechless, which was nothing compared to what Seth was experiencing. Amanda Porterfield had a way of turning the tables and doing the exact opposite of what he might expect.

Miss Dooley’s mouth worked as she tried to find words. Then she giggled like a schoolgirl, and without saying anything, she left the room, closing the door behind her with a firm click. Her giggles faded as she descended the stairs.

“Well?” Amanda demanded.

The sleeping powder the doctor had given him was beginning to take effect. Seth’s strength was ebbing and he was at a loss regarding what his next play should be. He was used to being in control, especially when it came to women. But Amanda was a different sort of woman. It was what drew him to her and drove him crazy at the same time. “Well what?” He could not help the irritation that crept into his tone.

She smiled. “You were bluffing,” she crowed. “I knew it. My father was a fine poker player, Seth, and I used to hang around the table when he and the cowboys on our ranch played. I learned a thing or two.”

“I was not bluffing,” he grumbled. “Marry me. Don’t marry me. I’m tired.” With that he nestled under the covers and turned away from her. For a long moment, neither moved. Then he heard the rustle of her skirt as she crossed the room.

But instead of leaving as he had expected, she sat on the edge of the bed and reached over his shoulder to stroke his hair away from his forehead. “We’re going to find your brother, Seth. You’ll be needing a best man, after all.”

And before he could digest those last words, she left the room.