Twilight in Texas

by Jodi Thomas

When Molly handed him a mug, he set it down carefully before pulling her gently onto his lap. “Morning.” He smiled.

  She liked the way he touched her so easily. No one had ever dared. She knew he was getting used to the nearness of her, just as she was of him. He looked even more rugged than he had last night. His eyes were warm as they watched her. His arm protected her from the world as it rested around her waist. Maybe he didn’t know how to dress for dinner, but he knew how to make her feel safe and cherished.

  “Are you two aware there are other people in the room?” Henrietta snapped.

  “No,” Wolf answered. He leaned slightly and kissed Molly on the lips.

  Molly laughed, knowing he teased the aunts. If he hadn’t come to the table so well armed, she might have thought of warning him. “Want breakfast?”

  He nodded as she stood.

  Henrietta cleared her throat. “We’ve decided Molly will be returning with us, Captain, so you will need to purchase three tickets on the stage leaving this afternoon.” She turned back to Molly. “We’ll be happy to help you pack. Though I doubt you have anything worth taking back since the fire. The clothes you’ve been wearing couldn’t have been made for you.”

  Wolf never took his gaze off his wife. “And what did Molly decide?”

  “I’m staying,” she answered. “Someone has to watch over you.”

  He winked at her. “Then I guess my wife is staying, ladies.”

  “I don’t think that will be the case, Captain,” Henrietta started. “We’ve—”

  Wolf gulped down a drink of coffee. “End of discussion,” he said, as he watched Molly move toward the kitchen.

  The aunts had never been addressed in such a manner and complained all the way to the stagecoach station. Wolf helped them both embark as Molly stood a few feet away, waving. She couldn’t believe she’d won so easily and half feared they might try to pull her in if she stepped within an arm’s reach of the coach.

  Just before the stage rocked into action, Wolf patted it twice, the way a man would a horse. Molly watched the action curiously. A memory stirred from years ago. The gesture would have gone unnoticed if Wolf had been on horseback, but somehow it seemed strange now. And somehow familiar.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  MOLLY WATCHED THE STAGE DISAPPEAR FROM VIEW. She felt like a part of her life was gone forever. She might see her aunts again, maybe even visit Allen Farm, but it wouldn’t be the same. Her years of daydreaming were over. There was much to be done.

  “We’d better get back.” Wolf offered his arm as the wind kicked up dustdevils in the street and distant thunder rumbled like gunfire.

  “They’re really not so bad,” she whispered.

  “Really?”

  Molly laughed. “Okay, they are so bad, but they mean well. I think I’m finally starting to understand something my father once said. ‘Happiness in life comes in the production, not the consumption.’ My aunts have always been consumers; they’ll never understand my need to work. They only want what’s best for me.”

  “I know,” Wolf said with all seriousness. “That’s why I didn’t kill them.”

  For a second, Molly almost believed him. He looked like a man who could carry out any threat he made. She shoved him hard with her elbow when she recognized his lousy attempt at humor.

  To her surprise, he pushed her back, though his hand steadied her so there was no chance she would fall.

  They walked down the street like two drunks locked arm in arm as they elbowed one another off the walk. She was playing with the bear again, she thought, only she wasn’t sure who was teaching whom.

  As they turned the corner and headed home, huge raindrops plopped around them, creating tiny individual puddles. Clouds moved in fast, shoving morning into shadows. Wolf quickened his pace and offered his arm as shelter.

  Molly noticed Charlie Filmore sitting on the front porch a second before Wolf did. The little man held his head with bloody hands as he yelled for help.

  Molly started running first, but Wolf passed her in only a few steps. When he reached Charlie, his Colts were drawn. While Molly knelt by the little man, Wolf circled into the house, his keen gaze missing nothing.

  “Charlie!” Molly tried to get him to release his head so she could see the damage. “Charlie! What happened? Let me help you.” She’d feared from the beginning that his wobbly walk would cause him to fall and injure himself.

  “No,” he cried. “I wanta die!” Blood oozed between his fingers at the side of his head.

  “Charlie! Let me see,” she asked again, realizing the blood was pulsing out to the rhythm of Charlie’s heartbeat.

  Wolf appeared behind him, his guns still drawn.

  Molly glanced up at him for help, but his gaze scanned the street.

  Wolf’s words came hard but not cruel. “Where is she, Charlie? Where’s the girl?”

  Molly stood and took a step toward the house. “Callie Ann!” Logic registered that the child couldn’t be inside, or Wolf wouldn’t have asked.

  Charlie cried out in a heartbreaking gulp. “Early was upstairs when one fellow jumped Josh in the parlor and another grabbed me in the hallway. I screamed for the kid to run. She was halfway up the stairs when we heard a round of gunfire from above.

  “Callie turned to run back down toward me as a man stepped out of one of the bedrooms and shouted, ‘One dead.’”

  Charlie’s cries made his words come in a rush. “The fellow holding me yelled, ‘Grab the kid and let’s get out of here!’ Then he hit me with the butt of his gun.”

  The little man pulled himself together enough to continue, “As I tumbled, I saw them start beating on Josh. It was the Digger brothers and their men. I’d swear to it. Callie Ann screamed and cried and kicked to get away from one of them. I must have blacked out, ’cause the next thing I remember, they were gone.”

  Molly looked up. The yard was full of neighbors and rangers, all standing in the rain listening to Charlie.

  Before she could react, Wolf shouted orders in rapid fire. No one questioned a word, everyone acted. The only time he lowered his voice was when he looked at Molly. “I need your help,” he said, staring straight into her eyes. “Can you help?”

  Molly nodded, fighting down her fears.

  “I’ve sent someone for Washburn, but we have three injured. Charlie, Josh in the parlor, and Early upstairs.”

  “Early’s still alive?”

  “Barely.” Wolf’s expression gave her little hope. “Can you take care of them? I need every man to go after Callie Ann.”

  Molly was already moving. Two men helped Charlie inside while two others followed her. Her body shook all over. All she wanted to do was cry and hide. But she had to help. She had to do her part.

  First, she’d do what she could for the wounded, then she’d go after the Digger brothers herself. All her life she’d thought of helping people, but if they’d hurt Callie Ann, she’d shoot them and leave their bodies to the buzzards.

  Josh attempted to stand when she entered the house. He looked like he’d been run over by a herd of buffalo, but he was alive. Another ranger was already helping him.

  Molly ran upstairs. Early’s body lay on the rug beside a half-made bed. Carefully, Molly rolled her over and met her worst fear. Early had been shot in the chest. Blood was everywhere.

  Molly leaned close and heard the young woman’s shallow breathing.

  She glanced at the two men at the door. “Get her downstairs to the dining table. Fast!”

  She ran ahead of them and cleared the table of dishes with one sweep. She spread a white tablecloth as the men reached the bottom of the stairs.

  There was no time to waste moving from room to room. “Put her on one side,” Molly ordered, “and Charlie on the other.”

  Charlie still sobbed when men helped him onto the table. “I wanta die,” he cried. “I just want to die.”

  As the men hurried to get the supplies Molly asked for, she grabbed Charlie’s hands and pulled them aw
ay from his eyes. “Listen, Charlie. Listen! Miss Early’s still alive, but I don’t know for how long. You’ve got to lie very still and talk to her. She likes to talk to you. If she can hear your voice, maybe she’ll stay with us long enough for me to sew her up.”

  He stopped crying and looked beside him.

  When she saw the pain in his eyes, she shouted, “Don’t you even think about losing control! We need you now.” Molly moved around the table to Early’s side. “I have to help her. I don’t have time to treat you. So lie still so you don’t bleed to death while I work on her.”

  Charlie’s eyes widened with panic, but he did what she said. He held a rag to his head wound while he talked to Early, telling her how she was going to make it and how she wasn’t to give one thought to dying.

  Callie Ann was never out of Molly’s thoughts, as her hands worked with lightning speed. Early’s wound was so severe, Molly didn’t see how she was still breathing. There was no time to hesitate or wait for Washburn. She had to act and act fast.

  As supplies filled the room, Molly pressed against Early’s chest in an effort to slow the bleeding enough to have a closer look.

  Dr. Washburn appeared next to her, soaked with rain and out of breath. “What do we have here?” Washburn asked, without trying to take charge.

  “We’ve got to get the bullet out and the bleeding stopped.”

  Washburn nodded and spread his instruments on the table. But instead of moving Molly out of the way, he handed her the first tool.

  “I can’t,” she started. She’d watched others, but she’d never done anything like this. “I haven’t…”

  “Neither have I,” the young doctor answered. “We’ve got more help on the way, but it may take an hour. Do we have that much time to wait?”

  He asked her. Her! How would she know? She’d never wanted to be a doctor. She wasn’t even a nurse. But no cream or powder would help Early. “I don’t think we do,” she whispered.

  “I agree,” he answered.

  Together they worked, trying to stop the bleeding, trying again and again to pull out the bullet. Trying with bloody hands to thread a needle to sew her together.

  Molly kept telling herself she had to do what she could. They were Early’s only hope.

  Charlie’s voice drifted around the room, soothing the panic that hung in the air thicker than the humidity. He talked of all the times he’d been shot and what he’d thought about each time and how he’d never let his mind think of dying.

  Early never moved. Maybe she was too near death to fight anymore. Maybe she could hear Charlie fighting with words harder than he’d ever fought in his life.

  A few times, Molly heard Wolf shouting orders just outside the window, but the thunder rattled the panes as if echoing his rage.

  Washburn’s assistant reported the ranger named Josh had two broken ribs, several cuts and bruises, but he had already insisted on returning to duty. The assistant said, short of hitting the man again, he couldn’t think of any way to stop him.

  Molly’s fingers seemed slippery and clumsy, but Washburn’s were no better. About the time they had Early sewn up, two doctors appeared from the state hospital. They were older and experienced. Their eyes showed no sign of shock at the amount of blood flowing across the table.

  “Fine job,” one man said. “I couldn’t have done better myself.” His hair and beard were white, and he reminded Molly of her father.

  The other doctor slowly pulled the rag from Charlie’s head. “This man almost bled to death waiting.”

  Charlie’s eyes were closed, and Molly wasn’t sure how long ago he had quit talking.

  Both doctors removed their coats and rolled up their sleeves. The white-haired one looked straight at Molly as if sizing her up. “You finish with the woman,” he said as more a question than a statement. “We’ll take care of her man.”

  Molly started to correct him. Charlie wasn’t Miss Early’s man. But then she glanced at the center of the table where their blood had mixed. Charlie’s hand held Miss Early’s tightly. If either knocked on death’s door this night, Molly knew they’d walk in together.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  WOLF WATCHED MOLLY WORK AND FELT A GREAT pride growing inside him. How many times had she told him she didn’t want to be a doctor? How many times would she prove herself wrong before she accepted the truth? From the very beginning, he’d seen the intelligence in her green eyes and the caring in her touch. Maybe that was what made him love her at first sight at the train station all those years ago. Maybe that was part of what made him love her now.

  She reminded him of a newborn, tasting life for the first time, taking both the good and the bad with a mixture of curiosity and caution. Handling it all in stride. And for some reason, she’d decided she wanted him. Molly didn’t know yet that he was already hers and always had been.

  He longed to talk to her, but there was no time. She had her job, and he had his. Only, the storm was making his hell right now. He had men on every outbound trail wide enough for a horse to travel. They worked in pairs, so one man could report back every few hours. They’d seen nothing. The town’s law enforcement combed Austin, looking for places where the Diggers might hide with a child. Nothing. The gang appeared to have left Molly’s house with a screaming captive and completely vanished.

  “Captain?” The white-haired doctor held up his bloodstained hands as he approached Wolf. “We’re doing what we can for the little fellow. Someone said a ranger was down. He’s not a ranger, is he?”

  “Yes,” Wolf answered without hesitation.

  The man Washburn called Doc Harley nodded. “We’re finding bone fragments that need to be removed.”

  “He was shot three times during the war,” Wolf announced.

  Harley shook his head. “He must have been very young at the time, because the skull has grown back. I think we can help him out a little and relieve some of his pain. Whoever patched him up during the war did a lousy job. I’m surprised he hasn’t gone mad from the agony he’s endured.”

  “Do what you can.” Wolf had never thought much about Charlie’s age. With his deformed face and crippled legs, he’d seemed old, but Wolf hadn’t taken the time to look closely. “How’s the woman?” Wolf asked before the doctor turned away.

  “She’s alive, that’s about all I can say. The lady doc is doing a grand job, but it will be hours, maybe days, before we’ll know. For every breath that woman takes she’s one breath closer to making it.”

  Wolf thanked the man and moved away. As he stepped onto the porch, he filled his lungs with damp air to remove the smell of blood. For a moment, he stood watching the sky. The storm wasn’t letting up. They would be tracking in mud. He stepped into the downpour, unaware of his own discomfort. Josh said he’d heard Callie Ann screaming that her Wolf was going to get all the mean men.

  If she were his little princess, he guessed that made him her knight. He planned to search until he found her. And she was right, he would get those men who took her.

  He rode until midnight, following every hint of a lead. He changed horses every few hours, unwilling to push an animal the way he pushed himself. Several folks came forward reporting that they’d seen men with a tiny blond girl. If they were right, the good news was Callie Ann was alive and yelling. The bad news, all the trails had disappeared.

  Wolf spoke to the undertaker, Miller, twice. The man was too nervous not to know something, but he wasn’t talking. Callie Ann had told Wolf about seeing Miller take the extra drugstore key the day before the fire. Wolf planned to keep a close eye on Miller, guessing he’d eventually lead Wolf to some kind of crime. That it would be the Digger boys was little more than a hunch Wolf had.

  As if to add to his problems, the rain continued, finally driving him back home. There was nothing to do but get a few hours’ sleep and start again at first light. The storm prevented him from recognizing his own men five feet away. The brothers were holed up somewhere and would crawl out when the storm passed.<
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  Wolf took care of his horse then walked the few blocks to Molly’s house through streets that were now rivers. Her place shone like a beacon in the rain. Every room downstairs was fully lit while all other homes around Molly’s slept.

  When he stepped onto the porch, he pulled off his hat, slinging water in every direction. Wolf hesitated, not wanting to face Molly and tell her they hadn’t found Callie Ann. He’d promised to protect them, but in the end, Early might already be dead and Callie Ann was kidnapped.

  Finally, Wolf opened the door. Frank Washburn sat on the stairs, cradling a mug of coffee in his hands. “Evening, Captain,” he mumbled. “Any luck?”

  Wolf shook his head. “How about you?”

  Washburn shrugged. “Well, they’re both still alive. We moved them up to the child’s room, where there were two beds. A nurse is sitting with them in case there’s a change. Old Doc Harley is in the parlor snoring. He told the nurse to wake him if she needed him.” The young doctor took a long breath. “Right now, it looks like Miss Early and Charlie Filmore are in a race to the grave.”

  Wolf pulled off his rain slicker and hung it on a peg by the door.

  The doctor stood slowly. “I’m building my courage to step into the rain and head home. There’s nothing more to do here.” Frank Washburn had aged years in one day.

  “Captain?”

  “Yes?” Wolf waited.

  “You were in the war, right?”

  “Right.”

  “What we went through today, was it anything like how the field hospitals operated?”

  The captain smiled. The war had only been over for four years, and it was already starting to be stories, not memories. “It was worse, Frank, far worse.”

  The young doctor nodded. “I was afraid of that.”

  “Where’s my wife?”

  “Last time I saw her, she was headed toward the back porch with a bar of soap and a towel. She said she was going to wash up in the rain.”

  Wolf offered the doctor his slicker before saying good night and heading into the kitchen. Food lined the counters, making Wolf grin. It was the Southern way, he thought. Whenever there was trouble, folks brought food.