Chapter Twenty-Three
“How long do we wait, Louis?” Clem and the rest of the gang waited at the agreed upon location. Milt, Harry, and Monty were to join them long before now.
“I don’t know, but we can’t wait much longer.” Slapping his hat against his leg, watching as the dust drifted in the breeze, he let out a string of curses. “There weren’t supposed to be two men riding up the trail.”
“Wish we’d known which one was Brandt.”
“They looked like brothers. We had no choice but to shoot them both.” Louis had accepted his role in the gang a long time ago. Milt or Harry told him who to kill and why, and the job was done. Brandt deserved to die for killing Chet. The other man happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Looking at the sun’s descent into mid-afternoon, Louis made a decision.
“We know where Milt wants to camp outside Big Pine. I say we ride there and wait for them to join us. Staying so close to Splendor isn’t safe.”
“What if they never show up, Louis?” Clem took another glance behind them, hoping to see a cloud of dust signaling the Pendervilles were close.
“We’ll give them two days. After that, we’ve got to assume they’ve been arrested…or are dead.”
Doc Worthington hadn’t taken a break since Noah and Bull had been rushed into the clinic, grateful Rachel hurried inside not long after their arrival. She’d come as quickly as possible, along with Dax, Luke, and Ginny, who kept watch on young Patrick.
What Doc and Rachel hadn’t expected was Clay McCord staying to work alongside them. His quick, efficient movements had them glancing at each other more than once, brows raised. By silent agreement, they decided to save their questions until later.
The three worked in quiet unison, saying little, letting their experience guide them. Neither Noah nor Bull had woken, delaying the need for chloroform.
“Rachel, I need more hot water and morphine.” Since her friends had been brought in, she’d kept a nearby table stocked with bandages, laudanum, opium pills, morphine, chloroform, whiskey, and brandy. A few precious bottles of a new antiseptic, carbolic acid, had arrived weeks before, which they used to sanitize Noah’s and Bull’s wounds and soak the dressings before applying.
“Got it,” Clay mumbled as he pulled out a bullet from Noah’s chest, depositing it in a bowl on the table. “Rachel?” He didn’t have to say more before she helped clean the opening with carbolic acid, then prepared the bandages and suture thread, soaking them in the same liquid. In a matter of minutes, they’d become a team.
“Uncle Charles, are you all right?” Rachel hurried around the table toward him when he stumbled backward, catching himself against the counter. Putting an arm around him, she noticed his shaking hands and sweat-laden brow. “You need to rest for a bit.”
“I can’t. Noah and Bull need me, Rachel.”
“You aren’t any good to them if you collapse.”
“She’s right, Doc. Rachel and I can handle this for a while.” Clay stepped away from the table after finishing stitching Noah’s third wound. “I can’t quite grasp how none of the bullets hit a critical organ or artery on either man. The odds are remarkable.”
Doc Worthington lowered himself into a chair, letting out a tired breath. “They are a long way from being out of danger, Mr. McCord. Or should I call you Doctor McCord?”
Clay didn’t respond, although his hands stilled at his sides.
“Where did you learn to perform surgery? Or am I wrong in believing you have considerable experience?” Doc leaned back in the chair, his weary gaze focused on him.
Rachel continued to clean Bull’s chest, then applied another bandage to a wound which bled profusely, listening to her uncle’s questions. Clay’s quiet chuckle had her glancing at him.
“I worked in Union field hospitals during the war.” A sheepish smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “In truth, I worked with you at several battle sites.”
“That can’t be true. I’m certain I’d remember a man of your talent.”
“It would be a miracle if you recognized me from the war. I had a mustache and thick beard, and wore spectacles most of the time. Not to see, but to keep the blood out of my eyes.”
Doc Worthington’s jaw dropped. “Your eyes…I should’ve figured it out hours ago. The blue-gray color lined with deep brown always struck me as intense, belonging to a man of high intellect.”
Clay laughed at the description. “Not sure about high intellect, but I’ve been accused many tines of being too intense.”
A painful moan drew their attention to Noah in time to see his eyes flutter open. He blinked several times as he attempted to focus before he tried to roll to his side.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Rachel dashed to his side as Clay gently pushed him back down on the table.
Noah’s gaze latched onto Rachel’s, his eyes reflecting fear and confusion.
“You were shot—more than once.”
He blinked, his hand coming up to rub across his forehead. “When?”
“A few hours ago. You and Bull were ambushed, left for dead.” Rachel had to hold him still as a look of panic crossed his face.
“Bull…is he…” Noah tried to sit up again.
“Noah, you must stay down.” Doc’s stern words caused him to lie back. “Bull is right here.” He nodded to the table next to Noah. “He’s in a little better condition than you, but not much.”
Noah licked his lips. “I need water.”
Rachel picked up a glass while Clay lifted Noah’s head.
“A small amount, Noah.” Rachel held the glass to his lips, letting him swallow little more than a tablespoon before moving it away.
Lowering Noah’s head to the table, Clay watched as his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep.
“Good. He needs as much rest as he can get. Clay, are you able to stay?”
“For as long as you need me, Doctor.”
Worthington placed a hand on Clay’s shoulder. “I’d appreciate it if you’d call me Charles.”
“All right…Charles.”
“Good. Now I think it’s time to let everybody know what’s going on in here.”
“I’ll stay in here while you and Rachel talk to them.” Clay put a hand to Bull’s forehead, noticing the fever subsiding. “He’s cooling some.”
“Come on, Rachel. Let’s go talk to them.”
Worthington opened the door, letting Rachel precede him to face a room full of her friends and family. No one spoke as Doc stepped next to her. Taking a deep breath, he looked at each face, understanding the pain he saw in their eyes.
“We removed three bullets from Noah. He’s sleeping now. If there’s no infection, he has a good chance of making it.” He looked at Abby, reaching out to take her hand in his. “Noah was quite fortunate. None of the bullets hit a vital organ, but there is one problem.”
Gabe walked up next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. Abby swallowed, her eyes damp as she waited.
“There was considerable damage to his right arm. He may not regain full use of it.”
She glanced at Gabe.
“He’s alive, Abby. We could’ve lost him,” Gabe whispered. “I’ll do whatever I can to help him with his arm.”
“We’ll all help, Abby. Whatever he needs.” Dax stepped next to them, sending a quick glance at Rachel, who responded with a grateful smile.
“Can I see him, Doc?”
“Not yet. We’ll see about you visiting him for a few minutes when he wakes up.” The room quieted before he heard a soft voice.
“What about Bull? Is he…”
Doc’s gaze landed on Lydia. Her pale face and trembling lips cut through him. “He’s alive, Lydia.”
“Oh God.” She brought her hands up to cover her face, trying to muffle deep sobs.
Luke, Bull’s closest friend, put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, then looked at Doc. “Will he recover?” he asked.
“We removed one bullet and the wound is clean, so yes, he should recover as long as he avoids infection. If all goes well, he can probably go home in a couple days.”
“He’ll stay with us, Doc.” Abby looked at Lydia, who nodded as she swiped away the dampness on her face.
“Who is in with them now?” Gabe dropped his arm from Abby’s shoulders.
“Well now, it seems Splendor has another doctor in town.” Doc glanced over his shoulder toward the patient room. “Clay McCord was a surgeon for the North during the war.”
“What?” Dax and Luke said together.
“He never said a word.” Lena’s brows lifted. She’d never considered him to be more than a quiet drifter.
“We may never have known if Noah and Bull hadn’t been shot. Clay’s good. Real good.” Doc directed his comment at Rachel, knowing she’d get his meaning.
“Charles, Bull is awake.” Everyone turned when Clay stuck his head out the door to make the announcement. Gabe made the first move, extending his hand.
“Thanks for helping save them, Doctor McCord. I can’t tell you how grateful we all are.”
Clay felt his cheeks flush as he accepted Gabe’s hand. He’d never been comfortable with praise. In his mind, he’d done what anyone trained in medicine would have under the circumstances.
“I just followed Doctor Worthington’s lead.”
“Now, Clay, you’re being too modest.” Worthington walked past him to check on Bull. Seeing him trying to sit up, he put a hand on his shoulder. “Not yet, Bull. You have some healing to do before I can let you leave.”
Bull turned his head toward the other bed, his voice tight. “How’s Noah?”
“He’s as lucky as they come. We pulled a few bullets out of him. He’ll recover if the wounds don’t become infected.” Doc checked Bull’s dressings.
“I feel fine, Doc. I’d rather head home.”
“Not today, Bull. Until the fever goes away, you won’t be going anywhere. Did you meet Doctor McCord?”
Bull saw Clay standing next to the doctor and nodded. “He said something about helping you and Rachel today. Guess he forgot to mention being a doctor.”
“It seems he didn’t plan to tell anyone. Then he found you and Noah.” Doc shot Clay a look he couldn’t quite decipher.
Clay stepped forward. “Just needed some time to sort a few things out in my head. Today made me realize how important my skills are.”
“And they shouldn’t be wasted, young man.”
“No, Doctor, they shouldn’t.”
Clay broke off the banter when Noah groaned and tried to turn over.
“Hold on, Noah. Let me take a look at your wounds.”
As Clay checked the bandages, Noah spotted Bull. “You look like hell,” he muttered, trying to mask the agony flashing through his body.
Bull’s attempt to laugh turned into a grimace as pain shot through him. “We’re alive. I figure that’s what matters.”
Noah closed his eyes and nodded. A moment later, he’d drifted back to sleep.
“He’ll be sleeping a great deal during the next few days, as should you.” Doc pulled a blanket from a chest and placed it over Bull. “I have a woman out in the waiting room who’s anxious to see you.”
Bull pursed his lips. “I don’t know if Lydia should see me like this.”
“Believe me, she won’t care about anything except you being alive. Clay, would you let Lydia know she can come in?”
“Of course.” Opening the door, Clay motioned for Lydia. “You’ll only have a couple minutes with him before he’ll need to rest.”
She nodded, a mixture of hope and happiness crossing her face. “I’ll take any amount of time you can give me.”
Cash, Alison, and Beau stabled their horses before walking to the jail. They’d buried the bodies in a shallow grave, planning to return with a wagon the following day to bring them back to town.
“I’ll make some coffee.” Beau picked up the dented coffee pot and grabbed a tin of coffee.
“I should go home, Cash. A bath and clean clothes are all I need right now.”
He placed a hand on the small of Alison’s back. “I’ll walk you home, then I need to find Gabe.”
They hadn’t made it to the door before Bernie came dashing inside. “Did you hear about Noah and Bull?”
“What about them?” Cash’s eyes narrowed, his voice gruff.
“They’re at Doc’s. Both were shot.”
“So it was the Penderville gang.” Gabe paced to the front window, then turned around. “I should’ve listened to you, Cash. You always thought there was a connection.”
“It’s not your fault, Gabe. I had a gut feeling, nothing more. There wasn’t a shred of proof those men were tied to the Pendervilles. Besides, Beau and I searched several miles outside of town and never saw a trace of the men we saw in the saloon.”
“It was a bold plan, and it almost worked. The ambush of Noah and Bull, then the attempted shootings of you and Alison weren’t coincidences.” Beau pushed away from the wall. “I need to get back to the jail, check on the prisoners. The circuit judge is supposed to arrive today for the trial on Monday. It can’t come soon enough.”
“I’ll come back to sit with Noah and Bull after I take Allie home,” Cash offered.
“No need. We have plenty of people who’ve offered to stay. Get some sleep.” Gabe clasped Cash’s shoulder. “Glad Beau talked me into letting him follow you.”
Cash smirked. “Me, too, Gabe.”
Cash escorted Alison to the shop, following her upstairs. After learning about Noah and Bull, then telling Gabe their story about the Pendervilles, neither felt as tired as they had when they rode into town. Alison busied herself making coffee while Cash paced around her home. Placing the pot on the wood stove, she turned toward him.
“If you’re hungry, I have a few eggs and some potatoes.”
His gaze moved down her body before locking on her face. He needed to leave, put some distance between them. What he wanted to do was stay, wrap his arms around her and never let go.
“I should let you get some sleep.”
“I’m not tired.” She took a few tentative steps toward him.
“A lot has happened today, Allie.” He narrowed the distance between them. “It would be best if I left.”
Stepping to within a few inches of him, she placed her hands on his chest. “I think you should stay.”
Clutching his hands into fists, he held his arms rigid at his sides. “You’re tired and not thinking straight. Besides, a lot of people know I walked you home. We need to consider your reputation.”
“I’m not worried about it.”
Cursing under his breath, Cash relaxed his hands, moving them up to grip her shoulders.
“I care about it, but you’re making it hard for me to do the honorable thing.”
Smiling, she moved her hands in slow circles on his chest. “You didn’t do the honorable thing a few weeks ago.”
His breath hitched as her hands created a heat which ripped through his body. Each stroke chipped away at his resolve to take it slow, court her, make sure he was who she wanted.
“Did I misunderstand when you said you loved me?”
“No,” he ground out, raising his hands to cover hers. “You heard me right.” His eyes smoldered, darkening to a deep emerald green when she let her leg travel up his. “Allie, you’re making this difficult.”
She raised onto her toes, brushing a kiss across his mouth.
“Do you want me, Cash?” Moving her hands from under his, her fingers trailed a sensuous path up his arms. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she aligned their bodies, feeling a shudder pass through him a moment before a deep growl escaped his lips.
Losing the battle, Cash scooped her into his arms, walking the short distance to the bed. He gently eased her down, bracing himself on his elbows, hovering above her.
“Is this what you want, Allie?”
“Yes,” she breathed out, her heart pounding.
“Are you sure?” His lips made a path from the corner of her eye to her jaw, then down the smooth column of her neck.
“Yes.” She felt fevered, as if she’d explode if he didn’t give her what she wanted.
Moving up to her mouth, he hovered an inch above it. “There are conditions this time.” His hand stroked a path down her arm, resting on the curve of her waist.
“Conditions?” She squirmed against him.
“Do you want to hear them?” His hot breath washed against the sensitive skin below her ear.
“I, um…yes, but hurry.”
He chuckled at her impatience, glad she wanted this as much as he did.
“First, no more lies. Not ever.”
“No more lies,” she agreed.
“Second, you’ll tell our friends about your past.”
“Fine. I’ll tell them. Please, Cash…” Her voice trailed off as he sucked lightly at the hollow of her neck.
“So impatient.” He lifted his head to stare into her eyes. “Third, and this is the most important condition, Allie.”
Her eyes widened, her breath coming in gasps. “All right.”
“Marry me.”