Courting Kate

by Rich, Mary Lou

  “‘Pears so.” The miner sighed, then shuffled his feet. “I don’t know how you’re going to take this, but things ain’t been the same for Kate since she came back from the mountain. Some of the fellers got the idea that she and Tanner had been carryin’ on.”

  “That’s a damn lie,” Mark said vehemently. “Who were these fellers? Maybe I ought to have a word with them.”

  “I already did, and I thought I had the matter settled. I love that little gal like she was my own. I let it be known that I’d kill anybody that messed with her.” The old man patted his waistband, letting Mark know that he, too, was armed.

  “Somebody broke in. And now the dog’s gone. I wonder...” Mark put his hand on the old man’s shoulder. “Chauncey, would you mind sitting here for a spell? I want to see if I can locate that hound of hers.”

  “Take all the time you need, boy. She shore sets a store by that critter.”

  His rifle cradled in his arms, Mark left the shed. Moving in the silent way Tanner had taught him, he stayed to the shadows and made his way down the street.

  Mark checked every street, every yard; calling softly so that he didn’t have all the animals in town setting up a din.

  He looked everywhere he could think of, even venturing into Chinatown, a place most white men wouldn’t go after dark. But there was no sign of the dog.

  Maybe the animal had returned to Kate’s on his own. Then again, maybe not.

  “Fluffy. Fluffy. Come on, boy.”

  Still no answer.

  He stood at the end of the street, debating about what to do next when an odd noise caught his attention. “Fluffy?”

  It came again, so faint that if he hadn’t been listening, he wouldn’t have heard it.

  Didn’t sound like a dog. Didn’t sound like anything he’d ever heard.

  He stared into the darkness and made out the shadowy bulk of an abandoned barn. Whatever it was, was in there. Holding his rifle ready, he followed a path through the tall dead grass, trying to make as little noise as possible. Although half the building was in a state of collapse, somebody had secured the latch. Mark slid the timbered draw bolt and opened the door enough to slip inside.

  He stood in the darkness, tense, ready. He heard the sound again. Now he knew it was an animal in pain. “Fluffy?”

  He eased forward, tracing the sound to a boarded up stall. He set his rifle to one side, then ripped off the boards. Wary of what might be waiting inside, Mark lifted the gun. He stepped through the opening.

  A bulky, light-colored shape lay against a pile of dark straw. The stall smelled of old manure, mold, wet fur—and blood.

  “Fluffy?”

  The animal whined and made an attempt to rise.

  “Damn!” Mark lay the gun aside and reached inside his coat pocket and removed a match. He struck it, filling the air with the scent of sulphur, then he looked down.

  Fluffy, his fur covered with blood, his eyes glazed with pain, peered up at him.

  “Oh, damn.” Sick, Mark knelt and ran his hand over the matted, russet-tinged fur. Shot. From the amount of blood he guessed the dog was more dead than alive. “Easy, boy,” he crooned, when the dog made an attempt to get up.

  The match burned the end of Mark’s fingers, and he blew it out. He needed more light. He ducked back through the boards and felt an upright timber at the edge of the stall. Hanging on a nail at head height, he found a rusty lantern. He shook it and heard a faint slosh of oil. He felt in his pocket for the last of his matches, lit it and touched it to the wick.

  The light flickered, then flared, smoke rising through the already black chimney. He turned it to a steady glow and went back inside the stall.

  He dragged his boot in a circle and scratched out a bare place to set the lantern. He sure didn’t want to catch the hay on fire. Then he got down on his knees and examined the dog’s wounds. Lots of blood, but except for a deep furrow atop the dog’s shaggy head and a bullet graze along his rump, he could find no actual bullet holes.

  “Looks like you got lucky this time, fella.” He wished he could clean up the animal and examine him a little better first, but decided it was more important to get the critter back to town. The question was, how? This horse of a hound weighed almost as much as he did.

  He hesitated, not wanting to leave the dog, but also knowing he had no choice. Whoever left Fluffy there probably thought the animal was dead. If so, they wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon.

  Praying that was indeed the case, Mark bent and blew out the light.

  Fluffy rustled the hay and whined.

  “Stay, boy.” He gave the dog one last pat then hurried from the barn.

  * * *

  “Shot, you say?” Chauncey shook his head.

  “I need some way to get him back to town,” Mark stated. “Any ideas?”

  The old miner thought a moment. “Hmm. Might work. Madame Jeanne used to have an old pushcart out back. If’n it’s still in one piece, it might do the job. I’ll have to go with you. Dog’s too heavy to handle on your own.”

  “Let’s get it done then. I don’t like the idea of leaving Kate unprotected. After we get him loaded, you come on back here. I’ll take Fluffy to the doctor’s. If Doc’s back, I know he’ll help.”

  * * *

  Although the cart wobbled, it proved sturdy enough to carry the animal. Chauncey helped Mark load the dog on, then hurried back to the toolshed while Mark took the dog farther down the street.

  The doctor, having just arrived home, was happy to treat Kate’s pet.

  “Best leave him here overnight,” the physician said, applying antiseptic to the head wound. “That way I’ll have time to clean him up before Kate sees him.”

  “Good idea. No sense scaring her worse than she already is. I’ll head back and relieve Chauncey. Tomorrow, it might be a good idea to have a talk with the sheriff.”

  “I’ll handle that little chore myself,” the doctor said grimly. “Seems like things have been getting a little lax around here of late. Pretty sad state of affairs when a woman is scared to leave her home, let alone that breaking-in business. Then this. Whoever did this should be hanged.”

  “Doc, I think it might be better if we didn’t say anything to Tanner,” Mark warned. “He’d probably end up killing somebody. You know how riled he gets. If he found out, he’d go plumb crazy.”

  “I thought he didn’t want anything to do with Kate.”

  “How could you think that?” Mark asked in amazement. “Tanner’s a fool for the woman. When he isn’t working himself to death, he just sits and stares into space with a silly look on his face. Oh, he likes her, all right. He’s so crazy in love, it’s plumb pitiful.”

  “Then why doesn’t he marry the girl?”

  Mark shrugged. “I guess he thinks she’s too good for him. Being stuck on that mountain is a far cry from living on a plantation in Georgia.” He studied a knot in the floor. “And then there was Mama. I remember how hard she worked. She was a big, strapping woman. Make three of Kate. After she caught diphtheria and died, Tanner vowed not to bring another woman to that mountain. He hasn’t, either—until Kate.”

  “The mountain didn’t kill Maggie,” the doctor said gruffly. Your mother loved it there. If you recall, a lot of people died of diphtheria that winter.”

  “I don’t remember much about that. I guess I was too wrapped up in my own loss.” Mark swallowed. “I sure wouldn’t want the same thing to happen to Kate.”

  Dr. Thomas shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder if the lot of you boys has the sense God gave a goose. Living up there, breathing that clear, fresh air, would be a whole lot healthier than living down here in the valley. So it gets a little cold. You’ve got a house, haven’t you? You don’t have to spend the winter outside.”

  “No. The house is warm enough.” He smiled. “Kate liked it there. She laughed and sang all the time.”

  “There’s your answer. The problem isn’t with Kate, it’s Tanner.” The elderly man gave h
im a sly look. “Perhaps it’s the marrying thing. Some fellows don’t want to be tied down.”

  “With the four of us to look after, Tanner couldn’t be any more tied down if somebody chained an anvil around his neck.” Mark frowned. Could they be the obstacle?

  The doctor finished with the dog, gave him a drink of water and made sure he was comfortable. Then he carried the lamp back into the other room. “Fluffy should be better tomorrow. After I get him halfway presentable, I’ll take him back to Kate.”

  “She’ll be glad of that, doting on that critter the way she does. Pays him more attention than she does Tanner.”

  “Is that a fact?” The white haired man grinned. “A little competition might be what Tanner needs.”

  After the doctor showed him to the door, Mark melted into the darkness.

  Troubled, Mark thought about the break- in, then he thought about the attempt to kill the dog. Anger pulsed through his veins, making him shake with the need for vengeance. Whoever had shot Fluffy wanted Kate to be alone. Wanted her vulnerable. Helpless. And God knows what might happen to her if that ever came about.

  Well, it was up to the Blaines to see that didn’t happen. Whether Matt came or not, Mark decided he would be spending all of his nights in town.

  His gaze searching the shadows, he made his way down the street.

  Chapter 20

  Although Tanner had tried to concentrate on work, his mind continued to stray to Kate. A feeling of foreboding rode heavy on his shoulders. What if somebody had been bothering her? What if Mark couldn’t handle it? Realizing that he might have put both Kate and his brother in danger, Tanner quickly packed his gear and headed for the house. After a few terse words to Luke and Matt, Tanner rode down the mountain.

  It was nearing midnight when he reached Jacksonville, and except for the saloons, most of the town was dark. He stealthily guided his gelding to a patch of grass behind the toolshed, then dismounted. His feet had barely touched the ground when he felt a gun barrel press against his back.

  “Hold it right there, mister.”

  “Chauncey? That you?”

  “Tanner?” The old miner let out a long sigh.

  “What are you doing here? What’s going on?” Tanner listened while Chauncey brought him up to date. His anger built with every word; by the time the old man had finished, Tanner was shaking with rage. He took his rifle from the saddle boot and turned toward Kate’s, peering into the shadows for any intruders. “Don’t go off half-cocked,” Chauncey warned. “You might end up shootin’ your brother. Or worse yet, Kate might shoot both of you.”

  “I didn’t know she owned a gun.”

  “I got her one. She ain’t very good at shooting yet. No tellin’ what she might hit.”

  Mark slid from the alley and hurried toward them. “I thought you were going to wait at home. What about the timber?”

  “The hell with the timber,” Tanner hissed. “You think I’d risk Kate getting hurt for the sake of some damned trees?”

  “How’s the dog?” the old miner asked.

  “He’ll be okay.” Mark glanced toward the house. “Anything happen?”

  “Not yet, but when it does we’ll be ready.” He put his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “You go across the street to Madame Jeanne’s. Watch from her alley. If you see anything suspicious, hoot like an owl.”

  After Mark vanished into the darkness, Tanner started across the street.

  “Where are you going?” Chauncey asked.

  “In there.” Tanner pointed to Kate’s. “With the dog gone, I doubt she’s asleep. And like you said, I don’t want her to end up shooting one of us.”

  He hurried across to Kate’s and softly knocked on the door. “Get away or I’ll shoot!”

  “Kate. It’s Tanner. Let me in.”

  A chair scraped, then she slid the lock and opened the door. Tanner pushed her back and stepped inside. Then he closed and locked the door.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I heard you had some trouble. I came to take care of it.” By the swish of petticoats, he could tell she was still fully dressed.

  “I have a gun.” She waved it under his nose. “I can take care of myself.”

  “Put that thing down before it goes off.” He took the palm- sized gun out of her hand and tucked it into his waistband. “We had better be quiet. We don’t want to scare them off.”

  “Who?”

  He took her hands in his. “Somebody tried to kill your dog tonight.”

  “No-oo. Where—”

  “Fluffy’s all right. Doc is looking after him. Whoever did it wanted him out of the way.”

  “You think they’ll—”

  “I’m sure of it. You go to bed.” When she started to protest, he held a finger to her lips. “Open your window a little bit. I want you to listen for an owl hoot.”

  “An owl?”

  “Mark. He’s across the street. The hoot will be his signal that we have company.” He felt a tremor go through her body. He took her into his arms to ease her fears. “Don’t worry. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “I know. I was thinking about my dog.” She stepped away. “I hope they do come. I can’t wait to get my hands on them.”

  “Okay, lady, to your window. Let’s catch some varmints.” He heard the soft rustle of cloth as she moved across the room. Tanner took up a position by the side window, figuring that would be the most likely point of entry. Crouching on the floor, he parted the edge of the curtain and gazed into the alley.

  For a time all was silent and Tanner had begun to think no one was going to show up at all. He shifted positions to ease his cramping legs, then he heard Kate whisper that she’d heard Mark hoot.

  “Okay, be quiet now.” He removed her gun from his waistband and held it at the ready. Then he placed it beside his rifle on the floor. He had never shot anybody and didn’t want to start now. Besides, getting shot would be too easy on whoever was trying to harm Kate.

  Two horsemen entered the alley, then leather creaked as they dismounted.

  Easing back from the window, Tanner waited, hidden from sight behind the couch.

  Something struck the window and glass tinkled onto the floor. A gloved hand came through the opening, released the lock, then slid the window open.

  “Boost me up,” a man whispered. “I’ll get the girl and hand her out to you.”

  The man crawled through the opening. A sickly sweet smell accompanied him. Chloroform.

  Rage rushed through Tanner’s veins, making him tremble with the need for action. He wanted to strike out, to punish, but cold reason forced him to remain still.

  The man straightened, and the silent way he moved toward the bed told Tanner the intruder was wearing moccasins.

  Muffled sounds from the alley drifted through the window. Mark and Chauncey were taking care of the other man.

  Tanner eased upright and crept across the floor.

  When the intruder hovered over the bed, Tanner launched himself toward him. Capturing the man in an iron grip, he flung him back into the other room. “Kate, are you all right?” He reached out to touch her, but she wasn’t there. The quilt covered only pillows. “Kate?”

  “Here.” Kate rose from the floor on the other side of the bed. “Look out!”

  Tanner whirled, and ducked a bit too late. A thrown chair caught him on the shoulder. “Want to play rough, do you?” Only too glad to oblige, he strode toward a burly man silhouetted against the window.

  Kate scurried behind him and rushed to the kitchen to light the lamp. “It’s him. The man who insulted me before.”

  “Blaine!” The man held up his hands. “We didn’t mean her no harm.” He tried to back away.

  Tanner wouldn’t let him. “No harm? Chloroform? Kidnapping?” Fury blurred his vision. “I know exactly what you meant.” He snaked one hand out and gripped the miner’s shoulder. The other hand, doubled into a fist, smashed the man’s nose. Blood sprayed across the floor. Tanner
hit him again, this time in the belly with a force that lifted him off his feet. He hit him again, and again, until Kate’s cry of anguish brought him back to sanity.

  Tanner staggered to his feet and stared down at the blood-drenched man stretched out on the floor. Sickened by the sight, he turned to look at Kate.

  She was pale as death, her eyes wide with horror.

  Mark stood in the doorway, looking green enough to vomit.

  “Right in here, sheriff.” Chauncey escorted the lawman into the room.

  “My God! Who is it?” The sheriff stared down at the prostrate miner.

  “Toddy Dobbs,” Chauncey answered. “He and his brother have a claim out on Sterling Creek.” He knelt and lifted the man’s eyelid. “Still alive, but I don’t reckon he’ll be pestering any more women anytime soon.”

  “You all right, Tanner?” Mark asked, coming to stand beside him.

  “Yeah.” He was covered with blood, but it wasn’t his. He was shaken by the realization that if he had continued the way he was going he would have beat the man to death.

  “Jeanne’s coming to take Kate home with her,” Mark said solemnly. “I think it might be best if we headed home ourselves.”

  Tanner turned toward the lawman. “Sheriff?”

  “Go along, Tanner. While I can’t legally condone what you did, I can certainly see your reason. If the mangy curs had tried something like that with any of my womenfolk, I probably would have killed them.”

  Tanner looked at Kate, but she seemed to be in a daze. He couldn’t blame her for being shocked. Most women would have fainted.

  He nodded to the sheriff and Chauncey, then followed Mark out the door.

  * * *

  The next day, Tanner, unable to face Kate, had stayed on the mountain. Mark rode into Jacksonville alone.

  When Mark returned that night, Tanner, noting that Luke and John were engaged in a game of checkers in the front room, motioned the older boys into the kitchen.

  After pouring himself a cup of coffee, Mark began to relate the day’s events.

  He told Tanner that the sheriff had reported that he and his deputy were keeping an eye out for any more trouble. Not that they expected any. The men in town seemed to be giving Kate’s place a wide berth.