by Linda Broday
“Doctor, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” Dr. Mary stuck the pipe in her mouth. “Fire away.”
“It’s about Jack’s limp. His leg really pains him sometimes, and he said a bullet is lodged next to the bone. I was wondering if there’s a chance you might be able to take it out?”
“How long has it been in there?”
“I think he said about five years. He didn’t have a doctor back then. His friends just treated him.”
“I’d be glad to examine him and see if it would be possible.” Dr. Mary’s bullet necklace clinked as she struck a match and lit her cigar. “It’s a shame for anyone to be in such pain.”
“Jack’s a good man and I hate not being able to help him.” She paused, thinking about her vow. “Do you mind if I satisfy my curiosity about something else?”
“My necklace?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“It draws a lot of glances. Everyone wants to know about it.” Dr. Mary lifted the shiny brass. “I collect spent bullets from my patients and I wear this to make them stop and consider. Maybe it’ll help them make better choices next time.”
Nora nodded. “Thank you, Doctor.” She hurried back to the house as the sun went down.
So far, the guard at the town entrance hadn’t seen any riders. Maybe Jack was right, and the posse was trying to assemble enough men to force their way into Hope’s Crossing. Whatever the reason, she was grateful for the time to have a wedding and plan a normal life with this man. Or at least as normal as they could ever have.
Wanted dead or alive. The words washed over her and sent a shudder up her spine.
Not if she could help it. One way or another, she had to keep him safe.
She let herself into the house and went straight to the parlor. Jack sat rocking Willow, Sawyer at his feet. Scout lay next to the boy, her snout on his leg.
Her gaze met Jack’s and held it. “I have everything. Are you ready?”
He let out a long-suffering sigh. “As much as I’ll ever be. I’ll put Willow in her crib. Where are we going to do this?”
“I think the kitchen will be best.”
“Can I watch, Nora?” Sawyer asked.
“I guess.”
“Why? You thinking of going blond too?” Jack ruffled the boy’s reddish-brown hair. “You and I are going to need haircuts soon, son.”
Sawyer brushed a long lock from his eyes. “I just want to see if this works. And I’ve heard Miss Rebel gives good haircuts.”
“That she does. Makes her a good living too.” Jack moved up the stairs.
“Don’t dawdle,” Nora called. “I’d like to be through so I can get used to you before I hop into bed with a perfect stranger. And bring a towel when you come back down.”
She went to the kitchen and set down the jar Dr. Mary had given her, trying to remember every instruction. She pulled out a shallow pan, poured the contents of the jar into it and got down the flour. Soon she had a thick paste. The smell was getting to her though.
Sawyer watched from a chair at the table. “Do you think this’ll fool those lawmen, Nora?”
“Yes, I do think so.”
“What if it don’t?”
Good question, and she had no answer. “We’ll think of something else. We won’t give up until they stop looking for Jack.”
“I wish Jack would let me shoot. We might need more guns.”
“No!” Jack entered the room, fury tightening the lines of his face. “I never want you to get used to killing! Got that? Remember how it made you feel the first time?”
Sawyer nodded, his head down.
“Jack, don’t be so hard. He’s just a boy wanting to help you.” Nora glared at him.
“I don’t want him to be like me. That stain seeps into a man’s soul. Sawyer is destined for important things.” He touched the top of the kid’s head and softened his voice. “Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Jack glanced at the pan of liquid. “Where do you want me?”
“Sit at the table and turn your chair backward. I think it’ll be the right height.”
He sat, and she draped the towel around him and began to cover his head with the smelly paste.
“I think it’s going to get awfully uncomfortable because you have to stay that way for thirty minutes.”
“I’ll manage,” he growled. “Just don’t make my hair green. Anything but that.”
Sawyer’s eyes widened. “Green?”
“Who knows what’s about to happen? I may come out with orange hair.”
“I never knew you to be such a whiner, Jack.” Nora hid a grin and made sure the mixture covered his entire head. It wouldn’t do for him to look like a skunk. He’d never let her live that down. And she put some on his eyebrows, leaving his sexy beard alone.
They waited in nervous anticipation, the clock in the parlor loudly ticking off the minutes. When Sawyer took Scout outside to do her business, Nora took advantage of the quiet to ask Jack about Rebel. “What’s her story?”
“Rebel worked in a saloon in Cimarron for a number of years. That’s one of the roughest towns I’ve ever been in. Fights and killings every night. She showed up here one day with Tobias and Belle January and tried to take Clay from Tally. Caused lots of trouble. I don’t know exactly what happened, but she changed and her and Tally are best friends now.”
“I kind of suspected something similar.”
“Why did you want to know?”
“Because she’s going through a rough patch and I want to reach out. Everyone needs another friend. I hope she finds out what happened to Travis. I would die if you disappeared like that.”
Sawyer returned just in time to watch Nora rinse the mixture out of Jack’s hair. He stood and roughly toweled most of the wetness out until his hair stood up on end.
The color was definitely different. Scout swung her head around, inched backward, and let out a long howl.
Twenty-eight
Hell! Jack looked at himself in the mirror and didn’t recognize the blond man staring back. The pale-yellow wasn’t too bad.
“I’ve always admired palomino horses. At least my mustache and beard are light enough.”
“I like it.” Nora touched the light strands. “What do you think, Sawyer?”
“Well, it’s gonna take getting used to. Those lawmen won’t know him though.”
“My own mother won’t either. I show up like this at her place and she’ll reach for the rifle.”
A knock sounded at the door. Nora opened it to find Clay and Ridge. “Come in and see the results.”
Jack came from the kitchen, his pale hair glistening in the light. Both of his friends burst out laughing.
Ridge was the first to speak. “I never would’ve believed it.”
“Me either.” Clay walked closer. “Are you sure you’re Bowdre?”
“Ha-ha! If you only came over to laugh, just keep on walking.”
“We’re your friends,” Ridge said softly. “We’re in this thing together—like always.”
“I know. It’s just that my life as I knew it is over. I liked my hair the color it was for almost thirty years.”
Nora put an arm around his waist. “Your life is not over. Your brown hair is over, that’s all. And it’s only until they stop looking for you.”
“I think I’ll bleach mine blond too.” Clay peered closer. “Tally might find me handsomer. Speaking of Tally—she’s feeling puny.”
Nora was instantly concerned. “Is the baby coming?”
Jack’s thoughts flew to Luke’s wife, Josie. She and her baby had almost died in childbirth the previous year, right here in Hope’s Crossing.
“I don’t know. Doc Mary is over with her.” Clay rubbed the back of his neck and went to the door. “Wish this we
re behind us. I keep thinking of Josie and how she almost didn’t make it.”
“Tally will be fine,” Jack assured him. “Each woman is different, and Tally is healthy.”
“I know. Still, a lot can go wrong.” Clay put his hand on the doorknob. “I like the hair, Jack.”
“Will you stay and visit awhile, Ridge?” Nora asked.
“Better not. I’m on guard duty tonight.”
“Next time then. I’ll have you over for supper.”
Ridge nodded. “Sounds good. Night all.”
After the door closed, Willow let out a cry. Nora went up to get her, then to the kitchen for a bottle, returning to the rocker to feed her.
Jack let the warmth of being together and safe wrap around him, afraid to believe fortune had smiled on him. They sat in the parlor discussing everything except the danger that was on all their minds. But he knew they still had some things to discuss.
Finally, Jack rose and let his hand drift down Nora’s hair to her shoulders. “When the lawmen come, you and Sawyer will have to stay hidden or they’ll recognize you.”
“I’d never forgive myself if I gave you away.” Nora glanced up with a grin. “A disguise is easy for me. I can put a scarf around my hair and borrow one of Dr. Mary’s cigars.”
Jack laughed. He could see that now. And she’d do it on a dare, too.
“What about me?” Sawyer got up to stand next to Jack. “I was at the jail.”
He draped an arm across the kid’s shoulders. “You’re too young for cigars. You’ll have to wear a low hat. I’ll get you one.”
“What about your black clothes, Jack?” Nora twisted around in the rocker. “Those will be a sure giveaway. I know you don’t want to change, but what about wearing a white shirt and a blue vest at least?”
She had a point and one he’d overlooked. “I’ll see what the mercantile has tomorrow.”
“I want one of those hats like mule skinners wear and a Mexican serape.” Sawyer flopped down on the rug with a grin as though already picturing himself in the role of a desperado.
Scout padded into the room, giving Jack a wide berth, huffed, and lay down next to Sawyer.
If only for one night, they’d pretend they were a normal family in a normal town with a normal life.
Then tomorrow, they’d go back to the way things really were—finding a way to live when others wanted to wipe him from the earth.
* * *
By morning, Tally was in full-fledged childbirth. Everyone seemed quiet and on edge. Nora had no experience with birthing babies, so she gathered the four children—Violet, Sawyer, Jenny, and Ely—and took them to play, away from the pall that had fallen over the town. Many women died giving birth, something Nora had personally known to be true before they found WIllow, for a dear aunt of hers had never woken to see the child she’d created. She prayed Tally would be all right. But Dr. Mary would do all she could, that much Nora was certain of.
Sawyer and Ely carried Willow’s crib down and Nora put her in it and tucked blankets around her.
Violet patted her arm, grinning. “I’m going to have a little brother or sister, Miss Nora.”
“You certainly are, sweetheart.” Nora smoothed the sightless girl’s long blond hair. Her heart went out to the nine-year-old who’d never see the baby’s face. “Do you have a name picked out?”
“My mama and daddy will choose one.”
“Sawyer named Willow. He’s good at naming. Do you want a brother or sister?”
“A brother.” Violet reached for the long stick that helped her feel her way around. “He won’t be blind like me. But if he is, I’ll still love him.”
A lump formed in Nora’s throat. “Of course, you will. We all will.”
“I like babies,” four-year-old Jenny said, climbing in Nora’s lap. “But they cry a lot.”
Willow cooed in her crib, the sound spreading joy through Nora.
“Not always, honey.” She hugged Jenny to her. Jack had told her about the asylum where the children had been held until the previous year. Jenny and Ely’s father had put them in there after their mother died and he didn’t want to be bothered with their care.
The rat!
Both were sweet kids, and the anger in Ely’s eyes was understandable. Rebel had earned a star in her crown by taking them in and raising them by herself. Maybe they played a role in her giving up the saloon life.
At noon, she was feeding the children when Jack found her. For a second, she didn’t recognize him, between his light hair, white shirt, and handsome leather vest. The sunlight winked on the marshal’s badge pinned to the vest, and then on the ivory-handled Colt hanging from his hip. Gone was the moody outlaw she’d first met. In his place now stood lawman Joe Long. He handed a wide-brimmed hat and serape to Sawyer, who put them on immediately.
“How do I look?” the kid asked.
“Like a mule skinner who hasn’t bathed in a month of Sundays,” Jack answered with a wink.
Nora told the children to eat and checked on Willow, who was asleep. With everyone occupied, she slipped an arm around Jack’s waist. “You look so different, Joe.”
“That’s the plan, right?” He grinned, flashing a row of white teeth made even whiter by his tanned face and light hair. “Might as well go whole hog if I’m sticking around.”
“Might as well, since you don’t have a better offer.”
He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, passion darkening his gray eyes. “They’ll have to pry me away from you.”
“You say the most romantic things.”
Jack released her, and his face turned serious. “Nora, Dallas returned from Tascosa, and he ran into our old friend Darius Guthrie. The tracker was telling another man in the saloon that he knows you hid that book of O’Brien’s at the sheepherder’s house and he’s going back to tear it down one mud brick at a time.”
“We can’t let him.” Panic filled Nora’s face. “We have to go get it.”
“I agree. We’ll go soon. Try not to worry that pretty head of yours. We’re going to put O’Brien behind bars.”
“It’s what I’ve been dreaming of doing since leaving Buffalo.”
Jack’s attention swung away from her and his eyes narrowed. Attuned to his every mood, Nora’s stomach clenched. She turned toward a group of men gathered in front of the mercantile.
“What is it, Jack?”
“Not sure. There’s something about that man over there in the buckskin pants wearing Indian beads around his neck.”
“The one wearing tall moccasins with fringe?”
“That’s the one.”
The man in question was laughing and slapping one of the others on the back. “He looks harmless to me. Very jovial. Do you know him?”
“No. He’s new to town. His name’s Dutch.”
“Jack, what’s got you so suspicious?”
“You might as well know. We think we have a traitor in our midst.” He laid out reasons for his argument. “Clay, Ridge, and Luke have come to the same conclusion.”
“Oh dear.” Suddenly, Nora looked at everyone differently. Who was the person who’d led to Jack getting arrested? She’d string him up if she found him. “What do we do?”
“Watch and wait. Go about business as usual.”
That would be difficult. She wanted to like everyone and fit in. “Jack, he might get word to the posse of your whereabouts.”
“Maybe—unless we stop him. We have to be on our toes.” He kissed her temple. “Try not to worry. We’ll root out the traitor.”
“What’s the latest on Tally?” Nora asked, changing the subject.
“No sign of the baby yet and Clay is biting everyone’s head off. He needs someone to shoot. That would make him feel better.” Jack stared toward a cluster of silent men.
“What does Dr. Mary say?
Is there a problem?”
“She told Clay everything is normal. A first child just takes a while evidently.” He put his arms around her. “Fair warning. If one day we should find ourselves in this situation, I will not be waiting outside. Come hell or high water, I’ll be with you, holding your hand, wiping your brow, making a real nuisance of myself.”
“I’m glad. I wouldn’t want to go through that without you.” In fact, she didn’t want to do anything without Jack.
The one o’clock stage raced through the opening. Jack kissed her cheek. “I need to help Skeet change out the team and take note of the new arrivals. I’ll let you know about Tally.”
Nora nodded. Putting Sawyer and Ely in charge, she gathered Willow and hurried into the house. After feeding and changing the baby, she went to work looking for a disguise for herself. In a small trunk, she found a heavy black scarf, and from a drawer in the kitchen, she removed a fine gold tablecloth Susan Worth had given them for a wedding gift. After stuffing pillows under her dress to add weight to her, she folded the tablecloth lengthwise and tied it around her larger waist. The long ends of the gold fabric fell past her knees. Putting the scarf around her head, she was suitably disguised.
When trouble came, she’d be at Jack’s side like a proper wife. Not hiding.
Nora B. Long.
A smile curved her lips. She be-longed to only him. Her thoughts in a tizzy, she gathered Willow and went back out to ride herd on the children, saying another prayer that Tally and the baby would be all right.
The stagecoach made a slow, wide turn in the compound, across the space that would one day be the town square. It headed back out the only entrance. Hope’s Crossing was the only town she knew with only one way in and out, but she’d heard the men talk about blowing more of the bluff away and widening the opening—someday, when all was safe.
Jack stood on the opposite side of the square, his gaze on her, probably wondering at her change in appearance. She flashed a big smile and waved.
He limped toward her, and even though she tried not to worry, she wasn’t successful.
“Sweetheart, you should get off your leg.”
“Soon.” He rubbed it, grimacing.
