A Sheriff's Passion

by Michelle Beattie

  He cleared his throat three times before he managed, “I’m here, Silver. I’m right here.”

  Finally the door blew open again. But it wasn’t the doctor. It was one of the locals coming for a drink.

  “Get the hell out of here!” Shane roared. “Saloon’s closed.”

  Again Mitch’s steady hand squeezed his shoulder. But his words were what reassured Shane more than the gesture. “Looks like the doctor is here, as well. Come on, let’s give him room.”

  Shane would rather someone hack open his chest with an axe than leave Silver’s side but this wasn’t about what he wanted. It was about what she needed. Reluctantly, he stood, stepped away.

  Doc strode purposefully toward them, knelt at Silver’s side. He lowered the blanket, lifted the towel. Without saying anything he dug into his bag and removed a pair of scissors. Then swiftly but gently he cut through Silver’s blouse and chemise so he could examine the wound.

  “Did you check if the bullet went straight through?” he asked.

  “No.” Should he have? Did the fact that he hadn’t somehow make things worse? Shane scrubbed a hand over his face. “I didn’t even think to,” he confessed.

  “That’s fine, let’s do it now. It’ll make things a heck of a lot better if it did.”

  Shane and Mitch took positions on Silver’s other side and on the count of three they rolled her toward them.

  “I don’t like seeing all this blood.” Doc held out his hand and Bruce—when had he arrived?—passed him a clean towel.

  After wiping away the blood, he leaned in close. Shane didn’t breathe until the doctor spoke.

  “Looks like she got lucky. The bullet went straight through, even missed her heart and lungs, far as I can see. You can set her down.”

  Shane’s breath whooshed from his lungs. “So she’ll be all right?” He and Mitch laid her onto her back. “She’s awful still and pale.”

  “Well, judging by those,” he said with gesture toward the pile of bloody cloths, “she’s lost a lot of blood. Although I think it seems to be slowing some. I’ll stitch the wound but I’m not going to lie to you, Shane. Infection now can be deadly. Fever too. She has rooms upstairs, is that right? I’d rather not do this on the floor.”

  “I’m not leaving,” Shane growled, albeit softly so as not to wake Silver. Not that she was awake, or had even opened her eyes in the past three days. She hadn’t done anything but moan and mumble in delirium.

  While there was no sign of infection, fever had indeed set in and Doc said it was likely more from being caught in the rain and getting a chill than her wound. Not that it mattered, there was only so much her body could fight at one time and she sure as hell hadn’t needed to catch a damn fever.

  She’d gone from ice cold to burning hot and he’d spent the past three days bathing her face, arms, and neck, anything to keep her cool. He’d changed her nightgown every few hours and had sent Bruce—who’d refused to leave the saloon otherwise—to the mercantile to ask Letty for more.

  He’d stroked her face, held her hand. Talked until his voice was hoarse.

  He’d allowed her friends to visit but he’d refused to leave the room while they did. If there was a change, a turn for the worst, he was going to be there, dammit.

  “Shane,” Jillian cajoled. “Go downstairs. Wade and Scott are there, as is Mitch. It’ll do you good to get some air.”

  “There’s air in here,” he said, gesturing to the partially open window and the curtains ruffling in the breeze. He hadn’t wanted the window open, was afraid Silver would catch another chill and worsen, but Eileen and Letty had convinced him it was perfectly fine. Of course, he hadn’t relented until Doc agreed as well. Sunshine and fresh air, he’d claimed, were sometimes the best medicine. Shane prayed the man was right.

  “Twenty minutes, that’s all. Go. Mitch has something he wants you to see.”

  Shane was loath to leave and he wouldn’t be gone any twenty minutes but he should check in on Owen, who’d been working for him since Silver had been shot, and he could do with a quick trip to the privy.

  “I’ll be back in fifteen,” he muttered.

  The first thing he noted when he opened Silver’s bedroom door was the noise. It wasn’t especially loud but clearly it wasn’t just Wade waiting downstairs. What the hell was going on? Mitch was only supposed to answer the door, tell people the saloon was closed until further notice and answer any questions they may have regarding Silver’s condition. Only her condition.

  He damn well wasn’t supposed to let anybody in besides her friends and, honestly, much as it pained him, she didn’t have near enough friends to make that kind of ruckus.

  Ready to tear a strip out of Mitch’s hide, Shane marched down the hall. He stopped when he reached the top of the stairs.

  Sunlight poured in through the open curtains, revealing a full saloon. Even more shocking, it wasn’t only men occupying the space. Eileen and Letty shared a table, with Katie standing beside them swaying side to side with her little niece cradled in her arms. Mary Richardson, the blacksmith’s wife, was sipping tea with Mrs. Garvey, whose husband ran the feed mill. Hell, even Reverend Donnelly, who’d never stepped foot in Silver’s as far as Shane knew, was there.

  Confounded, Shane turned to the bar. Mitch was manning it, pouring drinks, passing full glasses to Bruce and Ivy who promptly set them on trays to be delivered.

  Shane scowled. Just when he’d thought Mitch wasn’t as irresponsible as he’d feared, that he could actually be depended on, he did this? Turned Silver’s into some kind of social gathering place? While she fought for her life upstairs? Oh, hell no. This wasn’t a party. There was nothing to celebrate here.

  Gnashing his teeth, Shane marched down the stairs.

  Unfortunately he couldn’t make the direct path to the bar he wanted. Once folks saw him, they stopped to ask how Silver was. Was there any change? What could they do? They offered to do laundry, wait tables, cook, and clean. Whatever was needed. By the time Shane finally reached the bar, his head—which no longer throbbed from the blow it had taken—was spinning and he was a little befuddled.

  Mitch leaned against the bar, grinned. “It’s quite the thing, isn’t it?”

  Shane ran a hand through his hair, grimaced as his fingers tangled in the knots. When was the last time he’d thought to run a comb through it? Before the shooting. Same as the last time he’d bathed and shaved. Grooming hadn’t been his priority. Nothing had been but Silver.

  “What exactly is going on here?” Shane demanded.

  “It was easier than answering the door every other minute. Besides, folks were starting to gather outside; it was turning into a vigil. I figured they might as well come in. And before you ask, I’m not giving anything away. Everyone’s paying for their drinks, even the tea and coffee.”

  Shane turned, took it all in again. It didn’t seem real. “They’re really worried about her?”

  “I was surprised too,” Wade admitted from one of the stools.

  “Charlotte wanted to come,” Scott added. “But she knew, given her profession, folks wouldn’t want her here.”

  Unfortunately Scott was right. Shane supposed it was enough of a concession for many of them, especially the women, to even step into the saloon. Socializing with a whore would be asking a bit much.

  “I told her I’d stop by Grey’s after, let her know if there were any changes. In the meantime, she sent flowers.” He gestured to the corner where a table was laden with vases of wild flowers, lilies, and roses.

  “And every woman in town sent food. Since there was no way you could eat it all before it spoiled we’ve set up a table so folks can eat while they visit and wait. That was Letty’s idea.”

  Next to the table of flowers was another heaping with pies, cookies, sandwiches, and cakes.

  “There’s more in the kitchen,” Wade said, “but unless you plan on eating like a bear, some of it will spoil before you can get to it all. I thought before we leave we could
take some to the boardinghouse, to Grey’s. Spread it around.”

  Shane scrubbed his hand over his face, feeling the bristle of his whiskers. “Yeah, that sounds fine. Thanks for thinking of that.”

  Wade gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Whatever you need, Shane, you just let us know.”

  What he needed was for Silver to wake up, for her to make it through this.

  He wondered if Wade would be so generous if he knew the real reason Silver was lying upstairs shot? Come to think of it, what did the rest of these people think had happened?

  Shane looked to Mitch. “What did you tell everyone?”

  His brother turned serious. “What you asked of me. Although Wade and Scott know the truth, as obviously so do Bruce and Owen but they won’t say anything. The rest just think it was a robbery gone wrong.”

  Before Shane said anything more, he looked around the saloon. They were the only ones at the bar and nobody was paying them any mind. Besides, with all the conversations going on, they wouldn’t be overheard. Confident of that, he turned to Wade. “Does this change how you feel about her?”

  Wade studied Shane a moment. “I won’t lie, it came as quite a shock but does it change things? No. I know what kind of woman she is, she’s proven it often enough. Hell, Shane, you know what kind of woman she is.”

  He thought he had. “She lied to me. To all of us.”

  “Yeah, she did. And she had her reasons.”

  “You forgive her then?”

  “Hell, Shane, we all make mistakes. Do we need to pay for them the rest of our lives? Do I forgive her? Yeah. More importantly, do you?”

  “I’m trying,” Shane admitted. “And I admit when I look at her lying so still anger is the last thing I feel. But it’s not just about the lying. It’s about the law, which she broke. Once she recovers I have to arrest her.”

  “You don’t have to,” Scott said. “Nobody knows but us and none of us want to see her in jail.”

  “You think I do?” Shane demanded. “I don’t. This is killing me.” He turned to Wade. “I can work my way to forgiving her but I can’t let her crime go unpunished. It’s my job. It’s who I am.”

  “We know that,” Mitch stated. “And speaking of the law,” Mitch added, humor once again dancing in his eyes, “come into the kitchen, there’s something I want to show you.”

  Shane shook his head. He really needed to make a quick trip outside and then get back upstairs. He hated being away from Silver. Hated the idea that she could come to and he wouldn’t be there. Or worse, that she’d die and he wouldn’t be at her side. “Can’t it wait?”

  “Afraid not. Come on, you won’t be disappointed.”

  Resigned and knowing the sooner he humored Mitch the sooner he could get back to Silver, Shane rounded the bar and followed Mitch through the kitchen doors.

  Apparently the full saloon, abundance of flowers, food and well wishes was only Shane’s first surprise. The second one stood up from the table. A slow smile curved Logan’s lips as he stepped toward Shane.

  “Nice to see you again, little brother.”

  Silver woke to a searing pain in her chest. She gasped then groaned as even that slight movement ricocheted more agony through her body.

  Strong hands grasped her shoulders, gently held her still. “Easy, now. It’s best you don’t move.”

  Silver opened her eyes. Shane was there, leaning over her, his tone as gentle as his hands. He looked haggard. He looked as though he hadn’t shaved in days and his hair stood on end, as though his fingers had plowed through it and left it standing that way. His eyes looked tired but they were clear and intense as they met hers.

  She didn’t know if it was memories or dreams but she recalled hearing his voice, feeling the cool pass of a cloth on her skin, taking comfort in knowing she wasn’t alone.

  Then the rest came back to her and she knew those weren’t dreams. Quinton. Her confession to Shane. His disgust and loathing. Her getting shot. Her knowing she was going to jail. And now she knew why he’d stayed. To ensure she paid for her crimes.

  She didn’t think her chest could hurt any more. She was wrong.

  “You can let go,” she said. “It hurts far too much to attempt an escape.”

  He removed his hands, though he didn’t move from the side of the bed. Silver couldn’t bear to look at him. Everything that had happened pressed upon her and all she wanted to do was cry, weep for what she’d done, what she’d lost. She turned her head, the only thing it seemed she could move without pain, and looked out her window.

  She didn’t know the day but it was dark outside. A clear night, she saw the spill of stars glittering in the inky sky. Though she couldn’t see the moon it was bright enough to add to the light created by the lantern flickering on her dresser.

  “How long?” she asked.

  “Since the shooting? Five days. Doc said you were lucky. The bullet went clear through, missed your heart and lungs entirely.”

  If it missed her heart, then why did it hurt so blasted much?

  “Infection?” she asked.

  “No.” She heard the humor in his voice. “We used your best whiskey to clean the wound.”

  Well, at least something good had come from her saloon.

  “If there was no infection, why am I just waking up now?”

  “You lost a lot of blood and you had a fever. Doc figured it was from getting wet in the rain.”

  Yes, she remembered how cold she’d been. But it hadn’t all been due to her drenched clothes. As much had been from Shane’s rejection. She took as deep a breath as she could manage but it shook when she blew it out.

  The bed dipped as he sat next to her hip. “Look at me. Please.”

  Her chin trembled. “I can’t.”

  His sigh sounded as heavy as her shame felt.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Afraid to move and cause herself more pain, Silver let the tear roll from the corner of her eye into her hair. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

  “Yes, I do. And foremost on that list is the fact that I swore to protect everyone in this town and yet I failed to protect you.”

  She turned to face him. “You did protect me. You put me in jail. It was my begging Mitch to let me out that led to me getting shot.”

  “It was your trying to save my life that got you shot.” He grasped her hand, squeezed tight. “I heard you shout right before you tumbled down the stairs. He was going to shoot me, wasn’t he?”

  Tears stung her eyes. “I couldn’t let that happen. I’d already hurt you with my lies. Shane, I can’t tell you enough how sorry am I. So many times I wanted to tell you but I didn’t know how. And I didn’t want to because I love you and I knew I’d lose you if I said anything.”

  He brought her hand to his lips, kissed it. “I love you too.”

  She wanted to believe it. She’d take another bullet if it meant it was true but she remembered the look on his face when she’d told him about her past. When Quinton had called her Sylvia. He’d loathed her. He’d been disgusted.

  “You didn’t five days ago,” she reminded him, her voice thick with tears.

  “Yeah, well, I’ve had five days to reconsider.” His smile was rueful. “Silver, I heard what you told Quinton. That you could have stayed in Dakota Territory. You could have turned to a life of crime but you didn’t. You saw the path they were going down and didn’t want any part of it.”

  “Maybe not, but instead of telling anyone what they did, I stole money and fled. And when I got here, I lied. To you, to my friends. To everyone. You weren’t wrong about that.”

  “No, but I was wrong to condemn you for it. I wasn’t in your shoes; I don’t know what I’d have done. None of us can know. But I know this. I grew up with a drunk and an abuser and I could have taken the same path but I didn’t because I knew I wanted to be a better person. And I made myself into one. I’m damn proud of that. And you should be too. You didn’t have to change your life but you wanted t
o. And that speaks loudly to the kind of woman you are.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook with the sobs she tried to hold back.

  He wiped away her tears. “I forgive you, Silver. When are you going to forgive yourself?”

  They were the sweetest words, worth as much, if not more, than his profession of love. Because love wasn’t always a choice. Forgiveness was.

  Her smile was sad. “I’ll have time to work on that in jail.”

  “About that.” He grinned. “Looks like you won’t be going after all.”

  She nipped the bud of hope before it could blossom. There was no way around it and she wouldn’t compromise Shane’s integrity by having him lie for her. There’d already been too many lies.

  “Shane, it’s all right. I know I need to make amends. It’s enough to know you don’t hate me.”

  “Honey, I could never hate you. But I’m serious. There’s no jail in your future. While you were up here napping,” he teased, “Mitch got word to Logan.”

  “Your brother Logan?”

  “Yeah. As you know, he’s a US Marshal. Luckily, he wasn’t too far away and was able to take a train most of the way here once he got Mitch’s telegram.

  “Anyway, when he arrived, I told him everything you’d told me and handed him the three thousand dollars. Because you didn’t steal here, whatever you did is out of my jurisdiction. But I did suggest to Logan that getting shot was far more painful than jail time could ever be, and I also told him what you’ve been doing to help the reverend.” His eyes twinkled. “You’re very good at keeping secrets.”

  She shook her head. “Not anymore. I don’t have any more secrets.”

  He cocked his head. “What you’ve been doing for the reverend all these years, that was kind of you.”

  “I was trying, Shane. Much as I started a new life here, I never forgot the old one I left behind. I thought by helping where I could, by saving that money, I was making amends.”

  “And that’s what I told Logan. He took that into consideration, as he did the fact that the point of jail is not only to punish but to dissuade from more crime, which you’ve already done successfully for years. And if you testify against Dirk, he said he’ll deem your debt paid.” Shane leaned over, pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “You’re free, Silver. It’s over.”