by Connie Mason
“I don’t need your help. I’ve managed by myself quite adequately these past five years and will continue to do so long after you ride out of town.”
Sarah had no idea why she declined Chad’s help. Perhaps it was because she recognized something dangerous in the handsome man. She knew nothing about him. He looked like a gunslinger, and for all she knew he was of the same ilk as Freddie Jackson, a man she loathed above all others. There was a hardness about Chad’s strong features that didn’t bode well for his enemies. Rigid, unpredictable, dangerous. Intuition told Sarah that the calm readiness of his body was more lethal than the weapons he wore.
He was tall and wide-shouldered, with a lean, dark face shadowed by the slant of his dusty, flat-crowned hat. His buckskin trousers and jacket were stained with sweat and trail dust, and permanent squint lines fanned out from the corners of his hazel eyes, giving mute testimony to his vigorous outdoor life. There was a raw, uncompromising strength about him, but the hank of dark brown hair that fell across his forehead softened his appearance.
“Most women would welcome help,” Chad said, trying again to wrest the kettle from her hands.
“I’m not most women. Let go and leave me alone.”
Chad had about all he could take from Sarah Temple. She was obstinate and unappreciative. He didn’t know why he was hanging around, offering to help when his help was spurned. Hadn’t he learned his lesson? Helping people could lead to tragic complications. He was living proof of that.
Disgusted, Chad let go of the kettle and spun on his heel, completely unaware of Sarah’s plight as he walked away. Unprepared for his abrupt release, Sarah tripped over her skirts and stumbled forward. The kettle flew from her hands. Momentum carried her toward the tub of steaming water.
Sarah’s first instinct was to fling out her arms to brace herself. Unfortunately there was nothing to stop her fall except the vat of scalding water. She let out a piercing scream as her arms plunged into the water.
Chad heard the scream and automatically went for his guns, turning into a low crouch. What he saw made his hair stand up on edge. Sarah was on her knees beside the washtub, cradling her arms against her. She was deathly pale, her face contorted in pain. Slapping his gun back into his holster, Chad raced to her side, appalled to think that he was to blame for Sarah’s injuries.
Chad’s expression turned grim when he saw how badly she had been scalded. The skin on her hands and arms was red, raw, and already blistering. Chad scooped her up into his arms, noting that she was barely conscious. She needed a doctor, and quickly.
Just then Abner came bouncing out of the house. He saw his mother in Chad’s arms and flew at him. “What happened to Mama? What did you do to her?”
“Your mother fell into the tub of hot water, Abner. She needs a doctor. Is there one in town?”
Abner thought a moment then gave his head a vigorous nod. “There’s Doctor Clayter. He keeps an office above the One-Eyed Jack saloon. Mama took me there once when I broke my arm.”
“Do you think you can find him, Abner? I don’t want to leave your mama alone.”
Chad knew he was placing a big responsibility on the boy but felt he had no choice. The responsibility would be even greater if he left the child alone with his injured mother.
“I’ll bring him back, mister,” Abner promised as he scampered off.
“Tell him your mother’s been scalded,” Chad called after the boy. “And tell him to hurry.”
Chad heard Sarah moan and glanced down at her. Her eyes looked like huge violet smudges in her pale face and her full lips had thinned into a grimace of pain.
“Abner has gone for the doctor,” Chad said, unable to tell whether or not she understood. Her soft moans continued as he carried her into the house. He found himself in the kitchen and paused a moment to get his bearings.
“No… doctor,” Sarah gasped. “Can’t… pay him.”
“Don’t worry about paying the doctor,” Chad said. “The accident was my fault, I’ll take care of it Where’s the bedroom?”
“There,” Sarah said, trying to indicate a direction with one of her injured hands. It was a futile attempt; her hand fell away uselessly.
“I’ll find it,” Chad said, moving from the kitchen to the tiny parlor. He found the bedroom immediately and carefully placed Sarah on the bed. Then he stared down at her, feeling helpless.
“You don’t have to… stick around,” Sarah said. She was in such excruciating pain she could barely think beyond the fact that there was a strange man in her bedroom, and that she didn’t trust men any former man she could throw them.
“I may be a callous bastard but I’m not inhuman,” Chad said through gritted teeth. ‘I’ll wait around until the doctor arrives. Is there anything I can do for you?”
Sarah started to shake her head no but changed her mind. “There’s some lard on a shelf in the kitchen. I’ve always found it helpful in treating burns.”
Chad left wordlessly and returned a few minutes later with a container of lard. “I’ll do it,” he said when Sarah failed in her attempt to scoop lard from the container.
Chad dug out a large dollop and smeared it over both of Sarah’s hands and arms. When he finished, he placed her arms gently down on the bed beside her, not surprised that the quilt beneath her was threadbare and faded.
Faded bedclothing, threadbare dresses, taking in wash; he found the situation confusing. Most whores he knew weren’t rich but they lived better than this, unless they were old and ugly. And Sarah Temple was neither old nor ugly. She was young and beautiful and could easily support herself and her son on her earnings.
“I’ll… be fine now,” Sarah said weakly.
Chad saw a vein pulse at her temple and wondered just how fine she really was. Her eyes were closed and her lips had turned white. A sudden impulse made him push a wayward lock of hair from her forehead. His hand fell away when her eyes flew open.
“What are you doing?” She looked scared and he frowned. He’d done nothing to frighten her.
“Relax, I don’t attack helpless women. The doctor will be here in a few minutes.” When Sarah continued to look unconvinced, he said, “Look, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here. I’ll be out of your hair just as soon as the doctor arrives and I know you’ll be all right. All this is partly my fault, you know.”
Sarah started to reply but a ruckus at the door forestalled her.
“I’m back,” Abner called as he slammed the door behind him. “I did it! I brought the doctor for Mama.”
Moments later a short, portly man with thinning gray hair bustled into the bedroom. “What seems to be the trouble? This little scamp pulled me away in the middle of a consultation.” He saw Sarah stretched out on the bed and frowned. “Reckon the boy knew what he was talking about. What happened, Sarah?”
“An accident,” Chad said, speaking for Sarah. “Miss Temple fell into a tub of scalding water. You’d better have a look at her.”
Doctor Clayter eyed Chad curiously. “Who are you?”
“The name’s Chad Delaney. I happened to see a group of boys beating up on Abner as I rode through town and rescued him. Can’t we talk about this later? Your patient needs tending.”
“Indeed she does. Take Abner into the other room, Mr. Delaney, I’ll do my best for Sarah.”
“Come on, boy,” Chad said, turning Abner toward the door. “Let’s wait outside. I’m sure the doctor will take good care of your mother.”
“Do I have to go?” Abner whined. “Are you sure Mama’s gonna be all right?”
“Go on, Abner, I’ll take good care of your mama,” Doctor Clayter said as he opened his bag and began removing various bottles and jars.
Chad hustled the child from the room, having no idea how to entertain the worried little boy. Finally he asked, “Are you hungry, Abner?”
“I haven’t eaten lunch yet. Can you cook?” he asked hopefully.
Abner’s guileless question brought a smile to C
had’s face, softening his stern countenance. “I’m not very good at it but maybe your mama has something already prepared.”
Chad walked into the tiny kitchen, frowned at the dilapidated cookstove that looked like it had seen better days, and eyed the cupboards with misgiving. When he’d looked for the lard earlier he hadn’t noticed much in the way of food. A little flour, a bit of sugar and salt, some beans, coffee, a half loaf of bread, cornmeal, three shriveled potatoes, and an onion. Then he spied a pot sitting on the back of the stove and gave a sigh of relief.
Lifting the lid, Chad was disappointed to find it filled with starch. “Shit!”
“I’m not supposed to say that word.”
“Sorry,” Chad muttered. “There’s not much here, Abner.”
Abner shrugged. “Mama was going to the store after she got paid for doing Mrs. Kilmer’s laundry. I’m not very hungry, anyway.”
“How about if we finish off this bread,” Chad asked as he brought the bread to the table and hunted for a knife. He found one in a drawer and neatly cut the bread into thick slices. “What about butter? Do you have any?”
Abner shook his head. “Lard with a little sugar sprinkled on top is good.” Suddenly he brightened. “There’s a jar of jam on the shelf.”
“Then jam it is,” Chad said.
They had just polished off their bread and jam when Doctor Clayter entered the kitchen. “Sarah is sleeping. I gave her a sedative. She’s in quite a bit of pain.”
“Can I see her?” Abner asked, sliding off his chair.
“If you’re very quiet,” the doctor said. “You can sit beside her, she’ll know you’re there.”
Abner scampered off and Doctor Clayter regarded Chad with speculation. “You must be new in town. What brings you to Carbon, Mr. Delaney?”
“I’m a bounty hunter. Maybe you can help me. Ever hear of a man named Freddie Jackson?”
“Sure. Who hasn’t? Use to live in these parts. That’s before I settled here.”
“I heard he has family in Carbon.”
“He had family in Carbon. Unfortunately his pa died over three years ago and his ma followed six months later. His two sisters moved east with their husbands shortly after Freddie left town. Don’t know the particulars about why or how he became an outlaw, though.”
“Have you seen Jackson around town lately?”
“Wouldn’t know him if I saw him. Forget Jackson. Let’s talk about Sarah. What do you intend to do about her?”
“What in the hell are you talking about? Sarah Temple isn’t my responsibility.”
Clayter glared at Chad from beneath bushy brows. Chad squirmed uncomfortably beneath his piercing regard, wondering if the doctor had the ability to see into his soul. If so, Chad wondered if he saw the emptiness there, or recognized the black hole where his soul once dwelled.
“Someone’s got to take responsibility,” Clayter finally said. “Sarah’s in bad shape. Both her arms and hands were badly scalded in the accident and she’s swathed in bandages up to her shoulders. Shell be a long time healing. She and Abner will starve to death if someone doesn’t assume responsibility. It will be many weeks before Sarah can work again.”
Chad felt a rush of anger. He wasn’t going to get roped into something that was none of his concern. He had an outlaw to catch. “Does Sarah have no one in town to help her? What about relatives? Is none of her family living?”
Clayter gave a snort of disgust. “She has parents and siblings, but you’ll get no help from that quarter. They have no use for her. Well, I’ve got to get back to my patients. I’ll be back tomorrow to check on Sarah. She may develop a fever. If that happens, give her a spoonful of the medicine I left on the nightstand. I also left laudanum for pain.”
“How much do I owe you, Doctor?”
“Can you pay? I know Sarah can’t”
Chad’s mouth thinned. “I can pay.”
“Very well. Two dollars should cover my services.”
Chad dug in his vest pocket, found two silver dollars, and handed them to the doctor.
“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Delaney.”
“Not if I can help it,” Chad muttered. “How long will Sarah sleep?”
“Until morning, I should think. If she awakens during the night, give her another dose of laudanum.”
Chad gave a slow shake of his head. “It won’t be me feeding your patient laudanum. I’ll be long gone by men. Give me the name of her parents.”
“Reverend and Mrs. Temple, for all the good it will do you.”
Chapter 2
Chad stood at the foot of the bed, watching Sarah sleep. She looked uncomfortable lying there fully dressed and he wondered if he should do something about it. Fearing his clumsy fumbling would do more harm than good, he decided not to attempt to remove her dress and underthings. Her relatives could do that when they arrived.
His gaze settled on Sarah’s face, noting her pallor and the dark smudges beneath her eyes. She looked exhausted and he remembered the piles of dirty clothes outside, waiting to be laundered. EM she do that every day?
Intrigued, Chad couldn’t turn his gaze away from the pulse beating at the base of her throat. A very white throat, he noted. Her skin was smooth and flawless, like fragile porcelain. His gaze followed the long line of her throat to where her full breasts rose and fell beneath the bodice of her patched dress. Sarah Temple was a feast for the eyes, but Chad had neither the time nor the inclination to enjoy the banquet. Women were dangerous. A woman had come close to ruining his brother’s life; but even before that Chad’s disillusionment with women had begun with his own mother.
“Mama is sleeping a long time, mister.”
Abner came up behind Chad, his big blue eyes wide with concern. “When is she gonna wake up?”
“Doc Clayter gave her something to make her sleep. Let’s hope she doesn’t wake up until morning, ‘cause when she does, she’s going to be in a lot of pain. She’s not going to be able to use her hands or arms for a long time.”
Big tears rolled down Abner’s cheeks and he dashed them away. “What are me and Mama gonna do?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll find someone to help you,” Chad promised. “Doc Clayter said your grandparents live in town. I’m going to bring them here to take care of you and your mother.”
Abner gave him an incredulous look. “I didn’t know I had any grandparents. I don’t have a papa, either.”
Chad didn’t have time to argue the point, or to wonder why Sarah chose not to tell her son about his grandparents. The sooner he found someone to care for Sarah and Abner, the sooner he could get back to the business of finding Freddie Jackson.
“I have a few errands to run, Abner. Will you be all right here with your mother while I’m gone?”
“You’re coming back, aren’t you, mister?” Abner’s fear was palpable and the wall around Chad’s heart developed another crack.
“I’ll be back.” Not to stay, but he didn’t tell the child that. “Why don’t you call me Chad? All my friends do.”
Abner beamed. “Sure, Chad, I can take care of Mama while you’re gone. Can we eat supper when you come back? I’m hungry.”
Chad cursed beneath his breath. Abner was a growing boy and needed nourishing food. Maybe Sarah’s parents could remedy that, too.
“I’ll see what I can do about supper, son. I hope to have all your problems solved by the time I return.”
Chad left the house, his face taut with determination. A niggling suspicion prickled the back of his neck at the thought that Sarah had never mentioned her parents to Abner. He was so engrossed with his thoughts he nearly collided with a woman coming up the path to the house. She gazed at Chad a moment, then sneered in derision.
“I knew Sarah Temple would revert back to her old ways,” she said contemptuously. “Once a whore, always a whore. The least she could do is keep her activities confined to the nighttime. She sets a poor example for that bastard son of hers.”
Chad had
no idea who this obnoxious woman was but he didn’t like her. “Who are you?”
“I’m Mrs. Kilmer. I’ve come for my laundry. I told Sarah I wanted it by this afternoon.”
Chad thought of the dirty clothes littering the backyard and couldn’t help smiling. “Sarah won’t be doing your laundry any time soon, Mrs. Kilmer. I suggest you take it home and do it yourself. You’ll find it in the backyard.”
Mrs. Kilmer’s mouth fell open. “Well, I never! I don’t know who you are, young man, but one word from me and Sarah Temple will never get work in this town again.” Her eyes narrowed. “Ah, I understand now. Sarah has another source of income, one more lucrative. As I said before, once a whore, always a whore.”
Chad’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He didn’t have time for this. Getting involved in someone’s life was the last thing he wanted. He’d left home because he wanted no responsibilities to tie him down. He was still running hard to escape memories that had scarred his soul.
“I suggest you gather your soiled laundry and take your vile tongue elsewhere, lady. I’m not in a good mood right now and listening to your insults is making it worse.”
Mrs. Kilmer took one look at Chad and backed away. Edging around him, she literally flew around the corner of the house to the backyard. Chad didn’t wait around to see if the woman gathered her laundry as he mounted Flint and reined him toward the church steeple across the tracks.
Chad found the clapboard parsonage nestled beside the church. The sign stuck in the front lawn of the church said it was the United Methodist Church of Carbon, and that Hezekiah Temple was the preacher. Chad tied Flint to the hitching post and marched up to the parsonage. He didn’t know why he should be the one to inform the Temples of their daughter’s accident and beg for help, but the sooner he did it the sooner he could be on his way.
Raising his fist, he pounded on the door, composing words in his head while he waited for someone to answer. A few minutes later the door opened, revealing a gaunt, stem-faced man dressed in unrelenting black. Permanent frown lines marred his brow and his thin, flattened lips had probably never known a smile. He was younger than Chad had imagined; his dark hair was gray at the temples and swept back from his high forehead.
