“I’m closed for dinner.” He gestured to the sign. “No haircuts.”
“I don’t need a haircut.”
“Well, I can’t fathom why else you’d seek me out. I’m the barber. That’s what I do.”
He was surly, but at least he didn’t reek of alcohol. “That’s not all you are, and you know it. Dottie had a rough night.” She explained Dottie’s retching.
“Chloroform can leave a person nauseated. It passed, didn’t it?”
“Yes, but she’s groggy. I admit I’m anxious for her to be well enough to tell the sheriff and Tad about her run-in with the Gang.”
“So am I.” Dr. Wilkie leaned against the doorjamb. “I met the Gang myself.”
“You did?”
“Right before you came. I quit doctoring after the war, except for the usual things a barber does like splint broken bones and pull teeth, but real doctoring, well, I hadn’t touched a person with that intent since my wife—anyway, that particular day, I heard Longbeard was laid flat by illness. The Silver City doctor was away, so I thought I’d make an exception to my decision to stop doctoring. I headed up the mountain and offered him some care. Guess who I met up with on the way back?” He grinned.
“While you were on a mission of mercy? That’s awful.”
“Nothing for ’em to take but my stethoscope. Maybe they thought they could sell it, since I didn’t have any coin on me.”
“I had very few coins, but they took those anyway.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry about your stethoscope. Those are expensive.”
“I don’t need one if I ain’t doctoring.” He wiggled his brows.
“It’s a pity, you know. People here need a doctor.”
“There’s one in Silver City, where everyone’s going soon.”
“People need you. They trust you.”
“You sound like your husband. Sorry, I mean your mistaken husband.” Wilkie tipped his chin behind her, and she turned. Tad stood on a ladder, hanging bunting off the county office. She turned back to Wilkie, who was stepping back into his barbershop. “He’s wrong, though. He’s the one in town folks trust.”
And with that, he shut the door in her face.
But she wasn’t looking at Dr. Wilkie anymore, anyway. She watched Tad. Dr. Wilkie was right. She trusted Tad, too.
Which is why she marched over to tell him something.
Tad yawned, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and stretched to hang the end of the garland on the hook Orr had hammered under the roofline last year. The roofline pitched in such a way that he couldn’t place the ladder directly underneath the hook. Orr, who was taller than Tad, had not had an issue reaching the hook, but Tad sure did.
A basket of red, white, and blue gewgaws and streamers sat at the foot of the ladder, decorations for the Independence Day celebration tomorrow. Nothing remained of last night’s rainstorm but a heavy stickiness in the air, leaving him sweating and tempted to douse himself in a horse trough, but tomorrow was the Fourth of July and the decorations wouldn’t wait. He could get a drink when he finished embellishing the town.
It had taken half an hour to decorate all the buildings on the street, except for two. Theodore had already taken care of his property, hanging garland on the mercantile porch above a painted sign reading: 1776–1866. GET YOUR ROSETTES HERE.
That left the county office to festoon, which Tad left for last because it was the hardest to do. He stretched farther. One more inch—
“You’re going to break your neck.”
He strained, at last fastening the garland of red, white, and blue pennants to the hook. There. Now it was safe to look down, although he didn’t need to peek to know who stood below him. “My neck’s fine, Rebecca. It’s my arm I’m worried about.”
Her fingers were tight on the ladder, holding it still, her knuckles white as bone. “Your shoulder hasn’t healed yet? Have you told Dr. Wilkie?”
“Not that arm.” He waved his right one, the one that had reached to hang the bunting. “This one’s about to fall off from all this decorating you gals are making me do.”
“We aren’t making you do anything. You volunteered.” Her eyes rolled. “I don’t feel sorry for you anymore.”
“Why not?” He descended the ladder, glad they were able to have a lighthearted discussion after the heaviness of the past twenty-four hours.
“Because I’ve made so many ribbon rosettes for Theodore my eyes have crossed. I poked my thumb with the needle, see?”
She held it up, showing him a red mark on her thumb. The temptation to kiss it and make it better coursed through him, but he shook it off and gestured up at the office’s roofline. “How’s my handiwork?”
“I think Cornelia and Mrs. Horner cut those pennants and stitched the bunting, so it’s not really your handiwork, is it? But oh, you mean the hanging of it.” Her playful grin was wide. “Nice.”
Her nonchalant tone made him bark a laugh. “Nice? That’s all you can say after I almost lost my arm beautifying this town?”
“Is that what happened? We’d best get your arm in a sling, then.”
Her teasing smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Prettier than the sunrise over the mountains, prettier than the willows bending over the creek bed, prettier than the spring flowers he’d plucked for her wedding bouquet. Pretty as it was, the time was coming soon when he wouldn’t see it anymore. They’d get the annulment, she’d marry Theodore, and Tad would watch them leave for Silver City. So he took this moment and captured it in his memory: the freckles dotting her nose, the pale hue of her eyes, the delicate pink of her upturned lips.
Theodore was a blessed man.
“Tad?” From the change in Rebecca’s tone, it was clear she had something serious to discuss. The annulment, probably. A quick glance assured him she no longer wore his opal ring.
“No trip to Silver City today. Maybe not until the Gang of Four is behind bars. I suspect I’ll be out on posse quite soon.”
“Oh, of course.” Her fingers fidgeted against her green dress. “But that wasn’t what I wanted to discuss with you. It’s Dottie.”
“Is she worse?”
“I’ve been at the mercantile, but I expect I’d have heard something if she’d taken a turn. No, I’ve been thinking about what happened to her. Doesn’t it seem odd that she was shot in the back and left for dead? Why would the Gang do that? If they wanted her horse, they could’ve caught up to her easily enough. Or fired a warning shot.”
Tad rested against the ladder. “I’ve wondered the same thing. I talked about it with Johnny, too, but we don’t have a good answer.”
Rebecca fussed with the needle pokes on her thumb. “Maybe they wanted her dead because she saw their faces. She could identify them.”
Tad’s stance widened so he could stand at her height, the better to see her eyes. “Did she say anything to give you that impression?”
“She didn’t say much at all.” Rebecca wouldn’t look at him.
A current of unease rippled under Tad’s skin. “Did she say something else, then? Something to cause trouble between you and Theodore? Or say that I—because I don’t have any feelings for her anymore, and neither does Theodore.”
“No, she didn’t and I—I’m not worried about that.” Her head tipped down, though.
“What’s bothering you?” He gently lifted her chin with his thumb and forefinger.
She didn’t meet his gaze. “I’ll breathe easier when this is all done, that’s all. She could have more information about the Gang than any of their previous victims. They’re dangerous, Tad.”
“I know you’re worried because that kid in the Gang saw your name on the envelopes, but they won’t hurt you. I promise.”
Her lips parted, but Tad’s eye caught on the movement of a man just beyond her bonnet. Theodore exited his mercantile, broom in hand, and started to sweep the porch. Tad dropped his hand before Theodore could look up. What a foolish thing, touching Rebecca like that, whether or not The
odore or anyone else could see.
God had provided Tad the desire to ranch, he was certain of it. It would keep him a fair distance from Rebecca and Theodore, and he’d heal from whatever he felt for Rebecca. He mounted the ladder, gripping another stream of red, white, and blue bunting. “I’d better get back to work.”
“So should I. Dottie might wake up, and in the meantime, these rosettes won’t sew themselves. Why so many menfolk want large ones for their lapels, I can’t fathom.” She held her hands out so her forefingers and thumbs made a circle the size of a saucer.
“That’s a lot of ribbon.” Tad stretched and hung the bunting.
“Theodore will charge extra for the large ones.” Rebecca held the lank end of the streamer while he moved the ladder to hang the opposite end.
“Who wants one that big, anyway?”
“The assayer, for one.”
Ah. “That’s because he plays tuba in the brass band. They like to show off their patriotic spirit.”
“You’ll come soon to question her?”
He wanted to tease that Dottie often slept the day away before she left, but Rebecca’s face was grave. “I assure you, the sheriff or I will check in soon.”
“Thank you.” Rebecca turned to walk toward the livery. Tad waved at his cousin, who, thankfully, waved back.
Tad’s heart dropped to his toes, though. Rebecca’s questions about Dottie were valid and troubling.
He’d do his best to find the answers to them, for Dottie’s sake, for the town’s, and for Rebecca’s. She wasn’t his real wife; she was Theodore’s concern, but he’d do whatever he could to set her mind at ease.
It was the very least he could do for her, and it might be the last thing, too, before they parted ways.
Rebecca hurried to the livery, passing the patriotic bunting bedecking the paddock. She waved to Johnny and Uncle Giff then let herself into the house through the livery. Cornelia met her in the parlor.
“She didn’t really wake up. All I did was stitch rosettes and stare at her. I forgot how pretty she is. No wonder Theodo—Mr. Fordham liked her so much.”
She’s not spindly as a bird or speckled as an egg like me, that’s for certain. But neither she nor Cornelia should be comparing themselves to another female. She smiled at her friend. “Beauty on the outside isn’t the same as beauty on the inside. You have both, though.”
“You think I’m pretty?”
“I sure do, with that gorgeous red hair and your bright eyes.”
Cornelia grinned, but then her hands flew to her cheeks. “Before I forget, my mother came by. She said she’d sit with Dottie tonight.”
Why? Rebecca shook her head. “There’s no need.”
“She told me she’d do it so you and I can finish my dress, but that’s not the real reason. Mrs. Horner called on her and said that caring for Dottie shouldn’t fall on you alone, just because you’ve done nursing before, and she said you didn’t sleep more than two winks last night and she’s worried about you.” Cornelia’s words came fast, and Rebecca had a difficult time following who said what, but it didn’t matter, because Mrs. Horner was worried about her.
Even though she’d had harsh words for Rebecca about Theodore, she was worried. She cared. “I’m fine. I’ll tell her so.”
“But she’s not the only one who’s noticed how hard you work for her, and Theodore, and stitching up folks. My ma agreed with her, and so did Eloise Evans, that miner’s sister your brother’s sweet on, so we’re all going to take turns sitting with Dottie. That’s five of us to carry the load.”
Rebecca’s lips parted, and not in shock over Johnny cottoning to Eloise. No one had ever thought of her like that before, at least, not that she remembered. Her heart swelled and tears stung her eyes. This must be what it was like to be part of a community.
“I can take my turn with Dottie tonight, though.”
“You took your turn last night, and you’re crying, you’re so tired. A full night’s sleep will do you good, once we’re finished with the dress, of course.” Cornelia giggled.
It didn’t sit right, though, letting other folks sit with Dottie. A sense of dread loomed over Rebecca’s shoulders. Mercy, she must be exhausted, to harbor thoughts like that. It was probably no more than anxiety to hear Dottie’s story about the Gang, but she must be patient. “Thanks, Cornelia.”
“I was teasing about you helping me with the dress tonight. You don’t have to. Unless you want to.” Cornelia offered a tiny smile.
Rebecca couldn’t let her down. “I want to. I will be there at seven. If your hair is damp, I’ll help set it in pin curls, too.”
“Thank you!” Cornelia embraced her. Rebecca froze at first, still shocked by the change in their relationship, but then she returned the embrace as hard as she could.
Tad scanned the main street, examining his bunting-hanging skills. Not too shabby, if he said so himself. Which he did, since no one other than Rebecca had said so much as boo about it while he perched on that ladder.
“Deputy! Tad!”
He turned, brushing off his hands. Johnny stood in the center of the street in front of the livery, waving his hat. He ran toward him.
“She’s awake,” Johnny yelled. “Rebecca wants you to come quick.”
Tad clapped Johnny’s shoulder as he passed him into the barn. In a moment he was in Pa’s room. Rebecca held Dottie’s shoulder, pinning her to the bed with obvious effort, although her voice was soft. “You’ll open the wound, Dottie. Try to lie still.”
“But it hurts!”
Johnny had followed him, and Tad cast him a quick glance. “Get Wilkie.” Then he was at Dottie’s other side. “Try to breathe, Dottie. Let Rebecca care for you.”
“Tad?” Her voice changed and her body went limp. “It hurts so much, Tad.”
He knew firsthand what a bullet felt like, although he’d only been grazed. “I’m sure Wilkie has something for the pain.”
Now that Dottie wasn’t fighting anymore, Rebecca doused a rag in the basin and patted Dottie’s head with the wet cloth. She murmured comforting words, like the nurse she was. Or like a mother. At that moment, he missed Ma, and he missed the family he thought he’d be having with Rebekah. Rebecca’s gentle sounds soothed him, and for a moment, he was lost in the tenor of her voice.
Then Dottie cried out. “It hurts so.”
Tad snapped out of his stupor. He felt ineffective in the sickroom, but he could do something as the deputy. “We’ll find those responsible, Dottie, and you might be able to help. Is there anything you can tell us about the Gang?”
“Tad,” Rebecca murmured. “I’m eager, but now might not be the best time.”
“Once Wilkie gets here, she won’t be awake for long.” He leaned closer to Dottie, hovering over her ear. “Did you see or hear anything that can help us?”
“They’re robbing a bank,” she shouted, enunciating and scornful, as if she’d been accused.
Rebecca stood up. “They don’t rob banks.”
“Which bank?” Tad squatted by the bed. “Did you hear them say?”
Dottie sobbed, flailing.
Wilkie stomped into the bedroom, shoving Tad aside with a none-too-gentle push. He poked and prodded, nodded, and administered a dose from a dark bottle.
Dottie’s sobs subsided, and soon she was sound asleep. Rebecca plopped into the oak chair, exhaustion lining her features. “I didn’t see infection, did you?”
Wilkie grunted. “No. The pain’s always worse the second or third day.”
“The way she was screaming…” Rebecca’s voice trailed off.
“Dottie Smalls was always dramatic. I was shocked she didn’t join an acting troupe.” Wilkie pointed at the bottle. “Laudanum tonic. Give it to her for the rest of the day and night. She needs rest. I ain’t a doctor anymore, so don’t fetch me unless she develops a fever.”
Rebecca’s laugh was mirthless when Wilkie strode out. “That man puzzles me.”
“This whole thing puz
zles me.” Tad rubbed his jaw. “I’d better fetch Sheriff Adkins. If the Gang is going to be robbing a bank, we need to warn Bilson and the other banks in the area.”
Rebecca’s hands clutched at her waist. “But she was delirious with pain. The Gang doesn’t rob banks.”
“What if they start, and we didn’t do anything?” He wanted to touch her, but it wouldn’t be right. He’d forgotten himself and touched her chin on the street, and he’d learned his lesson. He needed to keep his distance from her.
“I know. Stay safe.”
“It’s not a posse, Rebecca.”
“I know,” she repeated, her jaw clenching.
He stood there too long, far longer than was appropriate considering he was her accidental husband, far longer than he should have considering a bank might or might not be robbed sometime soon. At last he expelled a sigh.
“It will be well, Rebecca.” God willing. He prayed it to be so and sought out Sheriff Adkins.
For four hours, Rebecca stitched rosettes for tomorrow’s festivities and stared at Dottie. At last, Dottie stirred, but she didn’t cry out in pain as she moved. That was a start.
Rebecca rose and touched Dottie’s forehead. Cool.
“I’m thirsty.”
“Let’s remedy that, then.” Rebecca gently assisted Dottie to a propped position that was half on her back, half on her side, so she could eat and drink while keeping pressure off her wound. Dottie winced during the adjustment, but when they were finished, she took a sip of the water Rebecca lifted to her lips.
“Did Granddaddy come by while I was asleep?” Before Rebecca could answer, Dottie sighed. “Never mind. He’d be here if he was alive.”
“I’m sorry.” It was no small thing to lose the man who raised you. Still, Dottie had abandoned her grandfather without a word, along with Tad and Theodore and everyone else in Ruby City, leaving them all to wonder why and where she’d gone.
Rebecca didn’t approve, but in truth, she’d taken people for granted, too. Like Theodore. Make me more grateful for the husband You gave me, Lord.
My Heart Belongs in Ruby City, Idaho Page 18
