“Did you recognize any of the men riding with him?”
“A couple were in my unit. Disappeared the same time he did. I would’ve ordered the lot of them shot if I’d had the extra men to track them down.” Dax signaled to Bull, letting the man know he and Luke were leaving to take positions on the outer perimeter. He looked at this brother. “You call it.”
“I’ll head up there, take up a position near that ridge.” Luke pointed toward a rocky outcropping a couple hundred yards away.
“I’ll be opposite you.” Dax turned Hannibal, continuing to watch the men and cattle, as something nagged at him about the whole situation.
He didn’t know what bothered him the most. Tolbert and his henchman, Rachel’s request and his subsequent refusal to help the town, or the woman herself.
She’d weighed on his mind each day and night since she’d ridden off after his poor attempt at explaining his decision not to call on her. He’d wanted to assure Rachel his change of heart had nothing to do with her, at least not in the way she may have thought. She’d responded quite different from the way he’d expected, leaving before he had a chance to explain.
He kept thinking of the gleam in her eyes when he’d asked to call on her. She’d been eager to see him again. He remembered all of it. The feel of her against him as they rode to town, the disappointed look she’d cast him when her uncle stepped outside. Every detail replayed over in his mind.
Then the mention of King Tolbert. It had been as if someone had thrown cold water over him, and with it, a dose of reality. Dax wanted her, no doubt about it. At the same time, he believed his stay in Splendor would be short and he understood, without hesitation, that Rachel Davenport would not be a short-term woman. No. She’d be someone a man could get hooked on, marry, and build a life around. None of those were part of his future.
Dax dismounted, settled under a stand of pine, drew out his rifle, and leaned against a boulder. The position gave an excellent view of the pasture below, as well as the majestic skyline of the Territory Range. He could just make out Luke’s form opposite him. He glanced up at the darkening sky and thought more of Rachel, wishing he could find a way to purge her from his mind.
Chapter Seven
For hours, Rachel had failed to fall asleep. The combination of too many thoughts rambling through her head and worry over the town made it difficult for her to relax. Her tired body drifted off more than once yet, each time, something woke her.
She felt herself sinking into sleep again, then gave up, tossed her thin blanket aside, and walked to the window, opening it enough to let a cool breeze wash over her. She stood, her nightdress billowing as soft waves of air entered her room.
A quiet knock sounded. She turned, watching as the door to her room cracked open just a few inches, enough to make out the figure of a man. She stifled a gasp, wondering, hoping she knew the identity of the intruder. He strode toward her and stared down, letting his hands rest on her waist.
“You’ve been waiting for me.” He let his gaze wander over her, his body tightening at the sight.
Rachel locked on the face she dreamed of each night and nodded. “Yes.” The word came out as a soft whisper. “How did you get in here?”
“Does it matter?” He let his hands move up her arms in an intimate caress. “Do you think of me often?” His gentle, southern voice washed over her, drawing her eyes to his full lips, hovering inches from hers.
She didn’t answer, her heart hammering in her chest as he closed the distance between them and began to caress her lips with his. She let the sensations build, wanting him to do more, yet he held back.
“I’ve wanted this since I first met you.” He lowered his head once more for what she’d been waiting…
“Rachel? You going to sleep the morning away?”
She jolted and sat up, rubbing her eyes as she noticed the bright sunlight filtering through her drawn curtains. Morning. She’d had another dream. The same one about Dax she’d had almost every night. Still somewhat disoriented, Rachel threw off the covers and trudged to her nightstand, splashing water on her face and scrubbing hard in an attempt to rid her thoughts and mind of the man. Although it had been several days, it still stung the way he’d told her in that calm, yet still commanding manner of his, he regretted his request to call on her.
In her world, men did not ask to call on a lady, then tell her they no longer had an interest. Behavior such as that was unthinkable.
What galled her the most was the realization that his lack of interest bothered her so much. He’d changed his mind, and rescinded his request—nothing more. It wasn’t as if he’d broken off an engagement or anything of note. All he did was imply she no longer appealed to him.
Rachel groaned, dropped the brush on the dressing table, and covered her face with her hands.
She hurried to the kitchen, smelling fried bacon and seeing a stack of flapjacks waiting on a plate. Her uncle stood at the wood stove, concentrating on his task. It was the same stance she saw each time a new patient came into the clinic—thoughtful and questioning.
“You all right?” Rachel asked as she stood on tiptoes to place a quick kiss on his cheek.
“Tired. Couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the situation in town and our lack of a sheriff.” He turned toward her, looking down into her eyes, pleading. “It would relieve me a great deal if you’d leave Splendor and go home. Your idea of approaching the Pelletiers made sense. If they won’t do it, we need to face the fact it may be too dangerous for you to stay.”
She took a seat and spread butter across the flapjacks before covering them in syrup. She cut a bite-sized stack, speared it with her fork, and took the mouthful. “Oh, these are great. Just perfect.” She cooed again before cutting another bite.
“You’re changing the subject, young woman. Don’t think I don’t know it.” He quirked an eyebrow at her.
“I’m not ignoring the danger, just trying to find a solution.” She savored another mouthful, then set down her fork. “What about Mr. Brandt? Perhaps he’d consider being the sheriff.”
“The blacksmith?”
“I’ve heard he earned a reputation during the war as a hard fighter, quiet, determined, and quick. Some say he was a hero.”
“You’re speaking of the man who runs the livery, correct?”
“Yes, why?”
“No reason. He’s so withdrawn, quiet. I guess I figured he’d gotten out because he didn’t have the stomach for it. Where’d you hear about him?”
“From Timmy at the general store. He said his father would take great exception to him passing along confidences, but he thought I should know in case we had trouble.”
“Timmy is a smart lad. Even he recognizes danger.”
“Uncle Charles, I know there are instances where lives are threatened and people die. You’re here and haven’t made the decision to leave. I have no plans to leave, either. You’ll need to accept it.” She stood and rinsed her dirty plate. “Besides, the number of patients you see increases each week as word spreads there’s a doctor in town. You need me.” She poured a cup of coffee and scrunched her face as she sipped at the tepid brew. “Ugh, I don’t know how you can drink this awful stuff.”
“I’ll have you know I learned how to make authentic western coffee from the sheriff before he was killed. Even the cook at the boardinghouse said the sheriff made the best coffee around.”
She handed her cup to her uncle. “In that case, I won’t throw it out. I’ll give it to you.” She walked toward the door. “I guess it’s time to check the supplies in the clinic. You know how busy it seems to get as soon as we’ve had a few hours of quiet.”
“Do not think our discussion about you leaving is over, Rachel, because it isn’t.”
Her mouth twitched at his words. She had no plans to leave. He could do all the complaining, rationalizing, and arguing he wanted. It wouldn’t have any effect. She pushed open the back door to the clinic, then methodically opened and closed dra
wers and cupboards, jotting down supplies they needed. Most of the time, they were able to purchase them at Big Pine, the territorial capital southeast of Splendor. It took a full day by wagon to get there and one more to get back. They’d start at first light and wouldn’t reach their destination until after dark. Charles never lingered to enjoy the entertainment available in the larger town, always concerned about the need to return home and not leave their neighbors without a doctor. At close to four hundred residents, Splendor seemed small, but Rachel always had to remind herself that many outposts had less than one hundred inhabitants, making Splendor one of the larger towns in the Montana Territory.
A sharp rap at the front door drew Rachel’s attention, alerting her she hadn’t unlocked the entrance.
“Good morning, Mr. Henderson. What can I do for you?”
“Is the doc in, Miss Rachel?”
“He’s in the house, but I can go get him.” She started to turn when his voice stopped her.
“Actually, it’s one of my girls. She’s got some kind of fever. Maybe you could come over, check her first to see if she needs to see the doc.”
Rachel liked Amos Henderson, the owner of the Wild Rose Saloon, even if she disagreed with the role of his female workers. From what she’d heard, he treated the girls well, kept his place clean, and didn’t abuse them like some establishment owners did.
“I’d be happy to look at her but, the truth is, she’ll most likely need to see my uncle.”
“That’s fine. I just think she’d be more comfortable speaking to you first.”
She grabbed a shawl and followed Amos to the saloon and up the side stairs to the rooms above. He stopped at one of the doors and knocked.
“Tilly, you awake?” Amos pushed the door open enough to see the bed. Tilly lay covered, soft moans escaping, followed by racking coughs.
Rachel rushed to her side. “She has a fever.” She pulled back the covers, not expecting the sight before her. “Mr. Henderson, perhaps it would be best if you left Tilly and me alone.”
He blushed and backed out of the room as Rachel pulled a chair next to the bed.
“When is the baby due, Tilly?” Rachel asked in a soft, kind voice.
Tilly’s eyes were red and swollen, her voice scratchy. “Less than four months.” She choked once more and curled into a tighter ball. That’s about what Rachel would’ve guessed by the look of her.
“How long have you been coughing and running a fever?”
“Just since yesterday. I thought it would pass, but it got worse.”
“Does Mr. Henderson know about the baby?”
“He’s known for a while now. I had to tell him when I couldn’t, uh…do my work.” Tilly turned her head into the pillow, away from Rachel.
“All right. Let’s get you over this fever, then we’ll talk about the baby.”
Rachel sent word to her uncle, who joined her in Tilly’s room, working alongside her to help bring down the fever.
“There isn’t much else we can do, except wait. The fever isn’t getting worse and she’s resting. I’m going to head back over to the clinic. Why don’t you stay here until she wakes up?”
Charles stepped toward the door when it slammed open, a cowboy standing in the entrance, a look of rage mixed with fear on his face. He didn’t say a word before walking past the doctor and straight to the bed, staring down at the sleeping woman. “Is she all right, Doc?”
The doctor joined him by the bed. “Why don’t we go out in the hall to talk?”
“No. I’m staying right here.”
Charles glanced at Rachel, who gave a slight shrug. “This is my nurse, Rachel Davenport. Rachel, this is Ty Murton.” He looked back to the young man. “You must know Tilly.”
The cowboy’s eyes never wavered from Tilly’s sleeping form. “It’s my baby.” His emphatic words permitted no argument.
Charles set down his bag, abandoning his plan to leave for the clinic. “All right. If she wakes up and wants you to stay, that’s fine. If she doesn’t, you’ll have to leave.” He pulled another chair over for Ty. The cowboy nodded, ignoring the offered chair.
Ty watched her, overcome with concern for the woman he’d come to love.
He’d met Tilly the first day she’d accepted a job at the Rose. She’d never worked in a saloon before, but lack of money, hunger, and desperation had left her no choice. He’d been her first, had tried to talk her out of it, not understanding why someone as pretty and sweet as her would choose such a path. They’d talked for a long time before he accepted her decision and made up his own mind to do whatever he could to get her out of this life.
She woke coughing, but not the spasms of earlier, which had racked her body. Rachel applied another damp cloth as Tilly opened her eyes.
“There’s a young man here to see you.” She indicated across the bed.
Tilly’s head swiveled, then her eyes grew wide. She offered a weak smile.
“Hello, Tilly.”
“Tyson. What are you doing here?”
He grabbed her hand in his and squeezed. “Where else would I be?” He stared at her, challenging her to argue. “I’m here to bring you home. Our home. That’s where you’ll have our baby.”
“Tyson, I…” Her voice trailed off, eyes filling with tears as she absorbed his words.
“I know you’re not sure, but I am. I’ll send for the preacher. I’m thinking the doc and Miss Davenport here will stand as witness.” He squeezed her hand again, then stood and looked at Charles. “I’m getting Reverend Paige. You’ll stay with her?”
“Of course.” He watched Ty disappear into the hall.
“Is that what you want, Tilly? To marry Tyson?” Rachel asked, believing it to be a possible answer to the girl’s situation.
“I love him, but I’m not certain he’s the father. Someone like me, well…I can’t be sure.” She wiped the dampness from her cheeks and rested a hand on her stomach. She looked up as Amos Henderson walked back into the room.
“Ty Murton says he’s the father. He’s off to get Reverend Paige. You willing to marry the boy, Tilly?”
“Yes, Mr. Henderson. I am.”
“And you know he’s the father?”
She looked at the others. “No.”
Amos shook his head. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. Don’t know what we’d do with a baby around here anyway.”
Tyson came through the door minutes later with Reverend Paige and glared at Henderson. “You here to cause trouble, Amos?”
“No. Making certain Tilly’s doing what she wants.” He stepped back, allowing Tyson to take his place.
An hour later, Tilly lie in the back of Tyson’s wagon, wrapped in blankets, her fever gone, and wearing a plain gold band. Ty shook everyone’s hand, including Rachel’s, climbed onto the seat, and slapped the reins.
“Will they be okay, Mr. Henderson?” Rachel asked as the wagon pulled away.
“They just might be. He, his mother, and two brothers own a small ranch south of town. Good people, hard workers. I don’t believe they’ll have a problem accepting Tilly. She didn’t have much experience before coming here.” He scratched his head. “Fact is, I don’t think she had any. I saw the way Tyson looked at Tilly her first night at the Rose. He came back darn near every night and paid for her time. Don’t know where he got the money or how he made it in so often as their ranch is quite a distance away, but he did. I doubt that girl was with more than one or two others the entire time she was here, and those were early on.” Amos walked up the steps and through the saloon doors, letting them swing behind him.
“You all right, Rachel?” Charles asked.
She looked up as a tired smile broke across her face and nodded toward the wagon as it pulled out of sight. “It’s the people, Uncle Charles. That’s why I want to stay in Splendor.”
“Where are you headed?” Luke sat in one of the big leather chairs in the study, feet propped on a table, sipping whiskey and eyeing Dax.
“Into town.
Thought I’d see how the doc is doing.”
“The doc, huh?”
“That’s what I said.” Dax ignored the skeptical look on his brother’s face as he buckled his gun belt in place.
“Are you going to talk to the doc any more about the need for a sheriff?”
“I hadn’t thought about it. Are you still thinking you may want the job?”
“Not unless you have an interest to splitting it between us. Neither of us has time to handle it alone.”
“Like you, I have no interest. They’ll need to find someone else.”
Luke knew when Dax made a final decision, it stayed that way—final. He watched Dax head for the front door.
“Say hello to the, uh…doctor for me,” Luke called after him, chuckling at the thought Dax had been hooked by a nurse in the frontiers of Montana. A nurse from the North, no less.
Dax rode at a brisk pace, wanting to reach Splendor before Rachel had time to eat. He hoped she’d accept his apology and agree to spend some time with him, perhaps even let him take her to supper. He’d thought over and over about what he’d said and her reaction. He’d never have done the same to a lady in Savannah. Even if she no longer held any attraction, he would’ve honored his request and taken her to tea, or supper, or some activity to fulfill his obligation. Doing otherwise would’ve been humiliating for the woman and cast him as a cad. Why did he think he could skirt convention because they lived in the wilderness? He shook his head at the sheer stupidity of his actions.
Even though he still felt a strong pull back to Texas, and building a relationship with Rachel would be a huge mistake, Dax felt drawn to her and wanted to learn more about her. He knew his actions were selfish. Perhaps the more he learned, the less appealing she’d become and he could leave without a backward glance. He almost laughed at the thought.
Redemption's Edge: Book 1, Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Page 9
