Dixie Moon

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Dixie Moon Page 4

by Shirleen Davies


  Spotting the Western Union office across the street, she stepped onto the dirt road, knowing she had to get a message to Isabella. No matter the level of despair Lena felt, Isabella could always find a way to lift her spirits.

  “How is he?” Cash found Abby still sitting in the clinic waiting area, twisting a hanky between her hands.

  “Doc removed the bullet. Now all we can do is wait. He’s still sleeping, but Doc said Noah could go in for a few minutes. Were you able to find the man who did this?”

  Cash removed his hat as he took a seat near Abby. “It wasn’t hard. He and a friend were in the saloon playing cards at a table by the window. Turns out, he was the same man who caused problems the other night. Seems he blamed Gabe for not letting him get his money back from the man he thought had cheated. He spotted Gabe coming out of the boardinghouse, went a little berserk, and shot him. One night in jail turned in to him almost killing a man. There’s no doubt he’ll be headed to the territorial prison as soon as the circuit judge arrives.”

  “But there were so many shots fired.”

  “There was one other gunman. After Gabe went down, I guess they just kept shooting. No one in the saloon tried to stop them. Paul, the bartender, hid behind the bar until he had a chance to grab his shotgun. By then, Beau and I were already inside. It all lasted less than two minutes.” He fingered the brim of his hat, glancing over at the patient room door at the sound of voices.

  “Thanks, Doc. I’ll be back later today.”

  “Well?” Abby stood as Noah walked toward her.

  “He woke for a moment and recognized me, which is a good sign. Doc’s going to stay with him until I come back in a couple hours.” He shifted his focus to Cash. “Did you find the man who shot him?”

  Cash explained what he’d told Abby, adding they expected the judge within the next two weeks. “Beau’s at the jail with the men who did the shooting. We let the others go. Seems all of them are from the same mining camp and work for Carlyle. I’m thinking of riding out there to meet the man.”

  “If you decide to go, I’ll ride along.”

  “I might take you up on that, Noah. Beau will need to stay at the jail. It’ll take time for Gabe to heal, although I doubt he’ll stay down as long as Doc will recommend.”

  “The doc says he’ll need to either stay at the boardinghouse where Suzanne can watch him, or have someone stay at his place behind the jail.” Noah thought staying with Suzanne presented the best solution.

  “What about Lena?” Abby asked.

  “What do you mean?” Noah’s brows drew together as his mouth spread into a thin line.

  “Well, she stayed here until Doc gave us word Gabe would be all right. She obviously cares about him, and Nick can run the saloon until Gabe is recovered. I just thought…”

  Noah exchanged a look with Cash, knowing Gabe would fight either option. A small smile tugged at the corners of Noah’s mouth.

  “We could ask her. We’d also need to find out if Suzanne has a spare room. The last I heard, all her rooms were taken.”

  “She’d make room for Gabe,” Abby said, looking at Noah.

  “Of course she would, but we can’t have her giving up her own bed. Why don’t you ask her, Abby?” The gleam in his eyes sent a clear message to his wife.

  “I’d be glad to. In fact, I’ll do it right now before I return to the bank. Good day to you, Cash.”

  “Abby.” After she left, he glanced at Noah. “What was that about?”

  Noah smiled, his brows lifting. “Gabe’s been meddling in my life for as long as I can remember. It’s about time I did a little meddling back.”

  ~~~~~

  Chapter Four

  “No. I will not have Lena coming into my home to take care of me.” Gabe groaned as Noah supported his back so he could sit up on the bed in the exam room. After three days in the clinic, Gabe decided it was time to leave. “I’ll stay at Suzanne’s.”

  “Can’t.”

  “And why not?” Gabe’s glare would have stopped most people, but all Noah wanted to do was smile.

  “She’s full up. All the beds are taken—except her own. I assured her you wouldn’t want to displace her.”

  Gabe shifted his legs off the bed, resting his hands on his knees and cursed. “What about the room behind the stairs?”

  “Taken.”

  “Maybe Nick would have a place for me.”

  “Good idea. That way, Lena wouldn’t have to go to your place. Of course, she’d have to sleep at the saloon, too.” Noah kept his expression neutral as he helped him into a clean shirt and trousers before sliding his arm around Gabe so he could stand.

  “Damn, that hurts.” He watched in disgust as Noah pulled the trousers over his hips. “I feel like an invalid.”

  “You are an invalid, at least until Doc says you’re good to be on your own.”

  Grabbing Noah’s arm to steady himself, Gabe cast a pleading look at his friend. “I can’t have Lena at my place day and night. It won’t work. Besides, I can’t believe she agreed to it.”

  “She didn’t at first. Then we discussed the alternatives. You can stay at either Dax’s or Luke’s. Both said they’d be glad to have you.”

  “They’re too far from town. I need to be close in case there’s any trouble. I’ll stay at my place and make do on my own.”

  “That will not happen, young man.” Doc walked in the back door. “You need help so you don’t strain the stitches. If they break, there’s a good chance the wound will get infected.”

  “I’ll be careful. I just don’t want to be fussed over by a woman.”

  “You mean you don’t want to be fussed over by Lena.” Noah grinned at having the chance to get back at his friend for his harping about Abby before Noah came to his senses and married her.

  “Same thing. I’m staying at my place alone, and that’s final.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t allow that.” Doc crossed his arms, glaring at Gabe. “You young men are all alike. It doesn’t matter if you fought for the North or the South. All you ex-soldiers are stubborn as mules. Now, here is the way it is going to be. You can stay here and I’ll tend to you. Or you can go to your own home, have Lena watch after you for two weeks—”

  “But—”

  “No arguments, Gabe. It’s either Lena or me. What’s your decision?” Doc Worthington didn’t budge. He’d had it with stubborn men who made his life harder by refusing to do as he asked. This time, he wouldn’t back down. Gabe’s life could still tilt the wrong way if he didn’t take care of himself.

  He glared at the doctor, realizing the fight had already been lost. Mumbling a curse, he took a step forward, grabbing Noah’s arm for balance. “Fine. I’ll go to my place and Lena can come by when she has time.”

  “And she’ll stay all day. That’s the only way it will work.”

  Noah saw something flicker in Gabe’s eyes. “What about the nights? Surely she can’t stay with me then. The church women would have a fit.”

  “I’ll be there after supper and stay nights until you’re healed,” Noah said.

  “What about Abby?”

  “We discussed it and she thinks it’s the perfect solution. Cash and Beau will take my place a few nights.”

  Doc clasped Gabe on the shoulder. “You know, most men would be humbled by the number of people willing to help out. You ought to be grateful instead of grumbling like some old man.”

  Noah’s bark of laughter filled the small room. “He’s got a point.”

  “Are Cash and Beau out front?” Doc asked Noah.

  “They have the wagon ready. Come on, Gabe. Let’s get you home.” Noah supported him on one side, Doc on the other. The one step off the boardwalk to the street presented no problem, but getting into the wagon did.

  “Noah, you take his shoulders and Beau and I will take his legs.” Cash positioned himself on Gabe’s right, the side with the injury, and they all lifted on the count of three.

  Gabe grit his teeth and cr
ossed his arms, his face a mask. Several people stood around, watching or waiting to help, including Nick and Lena. Their faces barely registered as Noah, Cash, and Beau settled him on a pallet of blankets. Even that little amount of effort left him exhausted and wanting nothing more than his bed.

  He let out a mumbled oath as the wagon took off with a jerk. Noah knelt next to him in the wagon, checking to be sure the bandages stayed tight without signs of leaking.

  “You doing okay?”

  “Fine,” Gabe ground out. He’d been shot in the leg during the war, bandaged it, climbed back on his horse, and continued to fight until they’d won the battle, never noticing the pain. Afterwards, he gave himself two days to recuperate, then climbed back on Blackheart, resuming his command.

  The wound to his side surprised him in its intensity. He couldn’t stand without help, and it hurt to sit. His body continued to crave sleep, even though that’s all he’d done since the shooting. The wagon jerked to a stop and he turned his head to see the roof of his house behind the jail.

  “You ready to go inside?” Noah asked as he moved behind him to support his shoulders while Cash and Beau lifted him off the wagon.

  “I can walk.”

  “Probably, but you’re not going to.” Cash tightened his grip as they carried him inside, positioning him on the bed and pulling up the covers. “Beau’s riding out to the Murton ranch to speak with Ty. Someone’s been stealing supplies.”

  “Probably miners who haven’t made a strike,” Gabe replied, trying to sit.

  “Agreed,” Cash responded as he grabbed a pillow while Beau set a glass and pitcher of water on a nearby bow-fronted chest of drawers. “I believe Noah’s going to stay with you tonight.”

  “I don’t need anyone to watch over me.”

  “From what Doc said, that discussion is over. I’ll stop by later to see if you need anything.” Cash followed Beau out the door, closing it behind him.

  The silence which followed felt strange compared to the constant flow of his friends in and out of the clinic the last few days. Staring at the ceiling, he closed his eyes, trying to recall his last thoughts before the bullet hit him. He knew it had to do with his uncle’s death and the inheritance—an idea which had taken hold in his mind while he and Noah were eating at the boardinghouse. The entire time he was at the clinic, it had eluded him. He hoped the quiet of his home would help him remember.

  A rustling sound in the other room drew his attention. “Noah, are you out there?” His voice sounded raspy from lack of use. Trying to pick up the glass of water and not quite able to reach it, he tipped it over. Shifting again, he grimaced at the pain in his side, then fell back. “Noah, you still here?” Closing his eyes again, he waited, hearing the sound of the door opening. “You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine on my own.”

  “That’s not how it appears.”

  Gabe’s eyes widened at the sound of Lena’s voice and he reached for the covers, pulling them up to his chest.

  “No need for modesty, Sheriff. I’ve been taking care of Nick’s injuries for years.”

  “I’m not Nick.”

  “Clearly,” she smirked, stepping up to the bed.

  He watched as she righted the glass and refilled it, handing it to him before mopping up the spilled water.

  “I’m making the soup Doc recommended.”

  “You cook?” Gabe never considered she might be capable of doing more than just handling the activities of the working women at the Dixie.

  “Don’t sound so surprised. I may not be the best cook in town, but I do pretty well when given the chance.” She watched as he tried to reposition himself. “Here. Let me help.”

  “I can take care of it.” Gabe scoffed at the idea she’d be strong enough to help him sit up, then thought better of it when she positioned an arm behind him and helped leverage him onto the pillows resting against the headboard.

  “How’s that?”

  “Uh…good. Thanks.”

  “If you’ll be all right for a bit, I’m going to check the soup and make biscuits. I found jam in the cupboard. It is okay to open it?”

  “Why?”

  “Because it would be good on the biscuits.” She cocked her head, beginning to wonder if he might need sleep more than food.

  “No. Why did you offer to help me?”

  She clasped her hands in front of her. “The truth is, I didn’t. When I learned Suzanne didn’t have a room available and everyone else worked during the day, it seemed I was the only choice.”

  He didn’t know why her response bothered him so much, but it did. A part of him hoped she wanted to be near him, help with his recovery, perhaps just spend time with him. Instead, she’d offered assistance out of a sense of obligation. The disappointment was acute.

  “Well, I don’t need any help, especially from someone who doesn’t want to be here. Why don’t you dish me up a bowl of soup, then get back to the saloon. It’s where you belong.” Although he believed it, he regretted the terse response the moment it left his lips.

  His words slapped her across the face, heating her skin and burning her eyes. Instead of lashing out, she caught her lower lip between her teeth and considered what he’d said. She didn’t want to be here, taking care of a man whose mere presence created conflicting emotions and a need to flee. And he was right. She belonged in a saloon. She’d grown up in one, built businesses around them. They were the one place she felt in complete control, and as ironic as it sounded, safe. Here, in his bedroom, she felt powerless and vulnerable, both of which she hated with a passion. She took a breath and stepped closer to the bed, noting his haggard expression.

  “You’re right, of course. I do belong in a saloon. However, I made a promise to be here, and no matter how rude or churlish you choose to be, I’ll keep my promise. You’ll just need to learn to live with it.” Turning on her heel, she stormed out, muttering all the way to the kitchen.

  His kitchen wasn’t much larger than one of his jail cells, yet he heard her open and slam every cupboard in the room. With each crack, he felt himself flinch, and rightly so. He’d been an idiot, or as his mother used to say about a wayward cousin, a natural born fool. There wasn’t a chance he could make it to the outhouse by himself, and he sure as hell wasn’t using a chamber pot with Lena in the house.

  Leaning his head against the pillows, he pinched the bridge of his nose, then ran a hand down his face, feeling the stubble. He must look a mess to Lena, who never appeared as anything except stunning. If he had the chance, he could stare at her all day, every day, without tiring of the sight.

  “Here you are, and don’t even think about setting it aside. You’ll eat every drop if I have to sit here and watch.” She set the tray with his bowl of soup and biscuit on the bedside table before helping him adjust. Once settled, she handed him the bowl and biscuit. “Call me when you’re finished.”

  He should have invited her to dish up a bowl and join him, but he didn’t want to get too used to her being around. It was best if she helped him as little as possible, keeping her distance the rest of the time. The sooner he healed, the faster she’d be out of his house and his life.

  “Lena, are you still here?” Gabe couldn’t find a comfortable position. He’d levered himself up as much as he could, then let his body sink back down as the pain in his right side increased. Lying on his back or left side worked best, but after several days, his body objected to either of those positions. Getting up and walking around was what he really wanted.

  “You know I won’t leave until Noah or Gabe come by. What do you need?” It surprised her how she looked forward to being with Gabe. His cantankerous nature had settled into a tolerable grumpiness as she’d found ways to relieve his boredom. She’d brought over a chess board after he’d mentioned playing it with his uncle while growing up. They’d also played cards, and spoke of life in Splendor, the Dixie, and people they knew. They talked of what they hoped for in the future, avoiding saying much about their pasts, which work
ed fine for Lena. Their friendship had come a long way in a few days, a fact not lost on either of them.

  “I need to get up, walk around, maybe even sit outside for a while.”

  She set her hands on her hips, looking over his disheveled appearance. He needed a bath, something he’d ardently refused to do with her in the house.

  “I’ll help you into a chair outside, on one condition. You take a bath.”

  “You know damn well I can’t get in and out of that washtub alone, and I’m not having you help me.” He crossed his arms, settling against the headboard.

  “For heaven’s sake, you can wrap a towel around your waist until we get you in the tub, then I’ll turn around so you can remove it and get in the water. There’s no sense in lying around, itching from dirt.”

  “I’m not itching,” he protested, although he knew it was true. The daily sponge baths she’d helped with provided at least some sense of privacy, covering his manhood more than would be possible in the tub.

  She narrowed her eyes, not believing the lack of a bath in close to two weeks didn’t bother him. “I’ll bring in the tub and heat the water while you decide.” Feeling confident the allure of a warm bath would change his mind, she left the room, closing the door behind her.

  Within minutes, Lena returned, setting the washtub on the floor of the bedroom. After several trips, she’d filled it with water, then located the soap and a clean towel, looking at him with a self-satisfied smirk. “Are you ready?”

  Hell no, he thought, looking from the tub to her, knowing there was little chance he’d be able to hide his body’s reaction to her behind a towel.

  “Give me the towel,” he growled, reaching out his hand. Refusing her help, he struggled with the covers before slipping off his long johns, the exertion from this small act causing beads of sweat to form on his brow. He wrapped the towel around his waist. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”

  Lena placed an arm around his back for support and helped him stand. Still unable to hold his body erect, Gabe bent forward, holding the towel in place with one hand.

 

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