“What did they do before you came here?” she asked.
“Prayed for the best, since doctoring was left to the barber and an old woman who served as midwife.”
That combination of Wild West doctoring saved some and buried far too many. Even good nurses were nigh impossible to find.
That was part of the reason that her foster parents had chosen her off the orphan train. She was a tall sturdy girl. They believed she’d be able to “assist” their crippled daughter in her daily tasks.
She tipped her head back and drank in the wild beauty around her. Even during the years she’d lived with Harlan Nowell, she could look out a window anytime and enjoy the mountain vista.
“It’s a fact I’ll miss living in the mountains.” But to stay would place her at great risk.
She’d made enemies of two powerful men. Both had the reputation of leveling swift retribution on their adversaries.
A wry smile played over the old doctor’s mouth. “You’ll be a great asset to the profession. Why I’d hire you right off, though I couldn’t afford to pay you near what you’d earn in a hospital.”
She’d be happy being his nurse. “If I thought Whit would give up looking for me, I’d take you up on your offer.”
Doc scowled at his gnarled fingers. “Maybe he will in time.”
She doubted it. From all she’d heard over the years, Whit didn’t forgive easily. She knew Harlan Nowell was the type to carry a grudge to the grave. By running off, she’d not just ruined Whit’s plans for a partnership with Nowell, she’d cost Whit a small fortune.
Whit would want to ruin her. Nowell would likely want to see her dead, and would level the same punishment on anyone who dared to help her. That’s why she couldn’t stay here and bring trouble on Doc Franklin.
“I should see to supper,” Maggie said, and Doc Franklin gave a weary nod.
“You go on. I’ll be in directly,” he said.
Maggie watched him amble off toward the barn before she turned and slipped into the cabin. The eldest Orshlin girl, nearly eight years old by Maggie’s estimation, had placed a strange array of food on the table and had begun peeling potatoes.
“What are you making?” she asked the girl.
Boney shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Stew, I reckon. Ma usually puts in what she has on hand.”
Maggie doubted the woman added dried apples and raisins to the mix. “May I help you?”
The little girl glanced from the alcove to Maggie, clearly torn between doing as she’d been told and welcoming a helping hand. Maggie understood the dilemma.
“I assure you I make a very good stew,” Maggie said. “But I could use a helper.”
That was all it took to get the girl’s capitulation. She nodded her head. “I help Ma all the time.”
“Well then tonight you’ll be my helper,” Maggie said, and set to work preparing a goodly portion of food that would last the family through tomorrow.
By then Mrs. Orshlin should be able to oversee her daughter’s culinary attempts. Hopefully Mr. Orshlin would return by then.
If not…
Then Maggie might volunteer to spend another night here to help the family. It’d keep her hidden from anyone Whit would send looking for her, and she’d get away from Dade Logan and his discerning brown eyes.
For she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to hide her secret from him.
Maggie pressed a hand to the small of her back and stifled a groan. It’d been some time since she’d functioned on so little sleep, and longer still since she’d dragged out of bed and set to work at a stove.
Her body was mightily protesting the short hours and the hard cot where she’d grabbed a few hours rest. It didn’t help that thoughts of Dade Logan had invaded what sleep she’d managed, leaving her more restless.
He wouldn’t be happy that she’d left Placid without telling him her plans, but she wasn’t about to begin accounting for her every move to another man. And if she was honest, she’d had to put distance between them because she was afraid she’d make a mistake around him last night, one that would prove she wasn’t his sister.
Why oh why did Daisy have to have a brother? Especially one who was too handsome and too discerning by half? Who’d spent the entire winter here waiting for her return?
“Is the baby going to be all right?” the eldest Orshlin child asked Maggie as she spooned oatmeal into bowls.
She prayed that would be so, but she’d caught the worry on Doc’s face in the wee hours. Something was amiss with the second born twin, and whatever it was could take the child’s life.
A wave of helplessness washed over Maggie the likes of which she’d never felt before. Yes, she was helping the family by caring for the younger children and lending Doc a hand when needed. But it didn’t feel like near enough.
A deeper yearning swelled in her to help the baby who had fallen into a death-like sleep three times now. According to Doc, there was no cure for the ailment.
She’d heard the same thing of Caroline years before. There was little to ease the pain and nothing to stop the debilitating twisting of her limbs as she aged. And in her case she aged quickly.
Laudanum for pain. A wheelchair allowed her some range of movement when the pain was too great for her to hobble.
Maggie hated that her foster sister’s world was confined to her spacious suite at the mansion. That watching others enjoy a life was likely all she’d ever have.
She shook off the memories that troubled her still and bent to the cooking task at hand. The fragile baby needed a nurse for the next week, and she’d volunteered to stay and help the family any way she could. She hadn’t hesitated to take on the job. Not only would she be able to provide much needed help, but staying here would keep her out of Dade Logan’s company.
That man had commanded far too much of her thoughts since just meeting him yesterday. Heaven knew how much more she’d catch herself thinking of him–his eyes, his impossibly broad shoulders–if she was in his company more.
“Do you have children?” the oldest daughter asked her as she added the last ingredient to the medicinal recipe Doc Franklin had given her to ease Mrs. Orshlin’s condition.
“No, but then I’m not married either.”
The little girl nodded, taking that in. “Are you going to?”
“Going to what?” she asked, confused.
The little girl let loose an impatient huff. “Get married and have babies.”
The question caught her totally off guard. There’d been a time when she’d dreamed along with Caroline about winning the heart of a good man and having a family. Butnow that she had defied Whit and Harlan Nowell, that dream seemed a lifetime away.
“Maybe some day,” she told the little girl as Doc exited the alcove.
His smile, though tired, relieved her. “She’s resting and both babies are stable. How’s the formula coming?”
Maggie gave the thick broth a stir. “It’s about finished.”
Doc helped himself to a taste and nodded approval. “You’ll need to feed this to the mother twice a day for the first four days to rebuild her blood. After that she can resume her regular meals.”
“What should I do for the baby and this death sleep that threatened him before?”
“Enlist the help of the children and keep a close watch. If either stops breathing, just wake him or her up.” Doc picked up his black bag, looking far too worried and tired. “I’ve done all I can, so I’ll head back now. If you need me, send the boy into town, and I’ll come back.”
“I will.”
But as she followed him outside to his waiting buggy, she prayed all would go well. That Mrs. Orshlin would regain her strength with the aid of the meat broth and the precious babies would thrive.
And after that?
Maggie watched the doctor’s buggy disappear around the bend, momentarily tempted to pick up her skirts and run after him. She wanted to stay here for this was where she was needed. Hopefully it wouldn’t
be long until Doc had secured a position for her at the St. Louis hospital. As Daisy Logan?
Maggie frowned, questioning the wisdom of continuing to use her childhood friend’s name. If she remained Daisy, then she’d forever be Dade’s sister. She’d be subject to surprise visits from him. She’d have to continue leading him to believe that he’d finally found his sister. That they were family.
If she hadn’t been attracted to him, then maybe she could continue that ruse. But even if that were so, continuing this deception wasn’t fair to him or to Daisy. Brother and sister deserved to be reunited.
How could she tell him the truth?
She couldn’t. It was too risky to contemplate. He was a lawman, and he’d not rest until he knew her real name. Telling him would just be another loose thread for Whit to pick up on.
No, she’d have to choose a new identity. She’d have to disappear in St. Louis and hope Dade Logan never found her again.
Dade perked up when Doc’s buggy passed the jail, but his relief vanished when he realized that Maggie Sutten wasn’t with Doc. He tossed a disgruntled glance at his snoring prisoner before heading out the door.
He looked over at the general store. He doubted Doc had dropped her off there before continuing on to the livery. Hell, he wondered if she’d even come back to Placid.
Anger boiled in his gut as he strode down the street, his long legs eating up the distance in minutes. Running off was just what he’d expect of a thief. If she had gotten away, he’d likely never set eyes on her again.
Unless he went after her right now.
Doc climbed from the buggy with effort, then reached back to retrieve his black bag. He turned toward the street just as Dade reached the livery.
Before he could fire off a question, Doc raised a hand to stop him. “Daisy stayed with the Orshlins to help thenew mother and babies. She’ll likely be there a few more days. Maybe a week.”
So she hadn’t run off. “That her idea or yours?”
“Mine. She’s needed there, and she wanted to help.” Doc grabbed his cane and started across the street, his gait as shaky as Dade’s thoughts.
He couldn’t fault her for that. Going to the aid of a stranger proved Maggie Sutten had a good heart, even if she was a thief and a liar.
“Yesterday, a bounty hunter came to Placid looking for a woman,” Dade said when he caught up with the doctor. “Margaret Sutten is her name.”
Doc stared at him, his expression conveying annoyance. “Don’t recall hearing the name around town.”
“That’s what I told him,” Dade said, certain if Doc knew Margaret Sutten, his next remark would dredge a confession from him. “What’s interesting is that the woman he described matches Daisy to a T.”
Doc huffed a sigh, or maybe it was a muffled curse. “This bounty hunter move on?”
“Yep, but not far,” Dade said.
“What’d you tell him?” This time, Doc Franklin’s expression was burdened with worry.
“That I hadn’t seen her,” Dade admitted.
Doc didn’t say anything, but Dade caught the slight flaring of his eyes. He thought back to yesterday when Maggie had stolen over to the doc’s. They’d been deep in conversation when he walked in.
How well did Doc know her? Was he helping to protect her?
“Well, go on,” Doc said, seeming more annoyed than interested.
“He said Miss Sutten had stolen money and a family heirloom. Harlan Nowell hired him to bring her back to stand trial.”
“Damn!” Doc resumed limping down the boardwalk.
Dade kept pace beside him, more certain than before that Doc was protecting her. But why was he being loyal to a thief?
“How long have you known Miss Sutten?” he asked, tired of pussyfooting around the truth.
“Since she was a child,” Doc said, not bothering to concoct a story and surely not inclined to apologize for helping to pull the wool over Dade’s eyes. “I was the company doctor at Nowell Mines.”
He wanted to be angry at Doc. But he couldn’t.
The man wouldn’t lie unless there was reason. Dade damned sure wanted to know it all, starting from the beginning.
“I want the truth,” Dade said as he followed Doc into his house.
The old man’s shoulders bowed a fraction. But Dade didn’t draw a breath until Doc Franklin nodded.
“As well you should,” Doc said. “Sit down and I’ll tell you what I know.”
Chapter 5
Doc fussed around the stove putting on coffee and stretching Dade’s patience to the breaking point. “What do you want to know?”
“How did Margaret Sutten come to live with Harlan Nowell?”
“Maggie–that’s what she’s always gone by–was one of the last girls on the orphan train that summer that passed through Denver,” Doc said. “Harlan Nowell selected her.”
“As a companion for his crippled daughter,” he said, repeating what Maggie and the bounty hunter had told him.
“Yes.” Doc flexed his gnarled fingers and winced. “Caroline Nowell was afflicted with crippling arthritis. The family consulted me about easing her pain.”
“So you were treating the daughter before Maggie arrived.”
“I was.”
No wonder Maggie had run right to Doc’s place when she got here. He was the closest person she had to a friend. And when she found out her beau had been shot dead, she needed someone to talk to.
“Tell me more about Caroline Nowell,” Dade said, getting right to the heart of the thing nagging him.
Doc frowned. “I thought you wanted to know about Maggie?”
“I do. But right now I’m concerned about finding Daisy.”
“Your sister. Of course,” Doc said. “I can’t see what she has to do with Caroline Nowell though.”
Dade watched Doc closely. “The bounty hunter accused Maggie of stealing Caroline’s cameo, but I know for a fact that the one Maggie was wearing belonged to my sister.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
That didn’t surprise him. If Nowell had taken the cameo from Maggie, Doc had likely never seen her wear it until now.
“Are you sure Caroline is Harlan Nowell’s real daughter?”
Doc bobbed his head. “Without a doubt. I delivered the child myself soon after moving to Burland. She favored her mother, right down to her coal black hair and dark eyes.”
Dark hair, dark eyes. Definitely not Daisy then. If Doc could be believed, and Dade did believe him.
He scrubbed a hand over his mouth and swore silently. He was back to square one looking for Daisy, not knowing what the hell happened to her after she boarded that orphan train. Or was he?
“I need to find out how Maggie came by that broach,” Dade said. “Why did she decide to use my sister’s name? Did she know Daisy? Can she tell me what happened to her?”
“I can’t answer those questions,” Doc said. “Talk to Maggie. If she knows anything about your sister, it’s up to her to tell you.”
He thought that over and knew Doc was right. Maggie held the key to so much.
“You doctored there for a good many years then?” Dade asked.
“Close to twenty years.” Doc leaned back in his chair and cradled his coffee cup that was surely empty now. “Reckon you’re curious why I left Burland.”
Dade nodded. “Twenty years in one place sounds like home to me.” It sure had been for him growing up on the Crown Seven.
“It was a good place to live at the time, and since I served as the company doctor as well as doctor for the town of Burland, I was always busy.”
“Why’d you leave it?”
Doc downed his head, shoulders rounding enough to tell Dade the reasons pained the older man. “There was an accident at the mine. Some men were trapped deep in it. Some of them that got out needed medical attention immediately or they’d lose a limb.”
Dade didn’t have to be told that being reduced to a cripple would threaten a man’s live
lihood. The majority would likely prefer death to being lame.
“I set up a makeshift infirmary on the site and got to work,” Doc said. “Harlan Nowell ordered me to stop. Seems his brother had suffered a minor injury, and he wanted him seen first. I refused.”
“Harlan Nowell fired you over that?”
Doc laughed, though the sound held no humor. “He did one better than that. He brought in another doctor and threatened my life if I didn’t leave town.”
Dade studied Doc and knew the man was being honest with him. Harlan Nowell had everyone under his thumb in his town, and woe to anyone who crossed him. Including an orphan?
What had it been like for Maggie living there?
She was likely nothing more than a servant to Nowell. The big house wasn’t a home for her but a place of employment.
“Why’d Maggie leave there?”
“Again, that’s up to her to tell you, but suffice to say she had damned good reason to run.” Doc braced both arms on the table and leaned forward. “No matter what you think of her now, you can’t turn her over to that bounty hunter.”
Dade couldn’t fault the man for being protective of Maggie. Hell, he’d bet there were things about Harlan Nowell that Doc was keeping to himself.
“Never intended to.” Dade pushed to his feet. “Thanks for the coffee and information. I’ll head out to the Orshlins’ and have a talk with Maggie.”
“Don’t,” Doc warned. “You’ll lead that bounty hunter right to their door, and those folks don’t need trouble or upset.”
Patience wasn’t Dade’s long suit, especially when he’d been searching for years for his sister and Maggie could hold the key to her whereabouts. But he understood the doctor’s concern too for the Orshlins and for Maggie.
He was certain Allis Carson would go to any lengths to capture Maggie. All his earlier concerns about that happening rushed forward to needle him again.
“All right then. I’ll stay away from the Orshlin farm until the bounty hunter tires of Placid and vamooses.”
“Even then watch your back,” Doc said.
Dade dipped his chin and left. Yep, Allis Carson would surely kill anyone who stood in his way of taking Maggie into custody.
In a Cowboy’s Arms Page 6
