Bram clasped Quinn’s shoulder. “Ma won’t be pleased, but this may be what Heather needs.”
Quinn nodded, staring at the house as his mother came outside. “Aye, but Ma won’t be happy she made the decision without consulting the family.”
“As Brodie did?”
“Aye, Bram.” Quinn’s voice held a note of sadness and resignation. “The same as Brodie.”
“I’ll find you right away if you get a reply, Sheriff.” Ira Greene leaned on the counter, his mind working. “I know it’s none of my business, but besides the sheriff in Denver, you might want to send messages to a couple of the banks.”
Brodie wondered if his meager budget allowed for more, then shrugged. “Do you have names of bankers in Denver?”
“Sure do. From what I hear, the town is going through a rough time. Still rebuilding after the fires a couple years ago, but there are at least two banks doing a good business. I’ll send your message to both of them.”
Brodie cocked his head. “How do you know all this, Ira? Denver’s over a thousand miles away.”
Ira chuckled, bending down to scoop up a stack of papers. “I get and send telegrams from all over. With the war between the North and South still going on, the number of messages grows all the time. You learn a lot in my business.”
“Aye. It seems you do.” And he was glad for any information Ira could help obtain about Maggie’s family. After two years, he had no idea if they were still anywhere near Denver. At least he had the foresight to get their names from Maggie when they’d returned from the cabin with Colin.
He couldn’t get his mind off her lifeless form when he’d carried her to the doctor’s office. She hadn’t made a sound, opened her eyes, or given any indication of life. If it hadn’t been for her shallow breathing, he’d have thought she’d been killed. Trampled by a horse in her panic to get away from him. She’d clung to life, and he wanted nothing more than to believe she would pull through. If Maggie lived, she’d need an attorney.
It was time for him to talk with August Fielder, let him know they’d found Maggie. He’d indicated he might be interested in representing her. If he accepted her case, Brodie needed to tell him all he’d learned at the cabin. She needed the best defense possible.
Brodie had been lost in thought when his head snapped up at the sound of people crying out. A second later, he felt a strange pulsing sensation under his feet. Earthquake, he thought, grabbing the railing to steady himself as he watched men and women, panic on their faces, stream outside.
Doctor Jonathon Vickery grabbed both sides of the bed, trying to steady it as a shockwave jolted the building. Maggie hadn’t come out of her unconscious state, and the doctor knew the slight rocking wouldn’t make any difference. He believed she would eventually wake up, but not from being jostled out of her coma. He was more concerned about his medicines and supplies stored behind closed doors.
“Deputy, are you still out there?”
When the door pushed open, Sam held the doorframe to keep his balance, then let go when the trembling stopped.
“Do you need me, Doc?”
“Not if that’s the end—” He stopped when another jolt rocked the building. This time the doors of the medicine cupboard popped open. “Grab those before they fall.” He nodded toward the bottles rocking back and forth, ready to tumble to the floor at any moment.
Sam let go of the door, losing his balance, then righted himself to grab two bottles. Bending down, he set them on the floor as a stronger tremor ripped through the building, this third one stronger, lasting longer than the others. He heard a loud crash out front and what sounded like the front door slamming open. Screams filled the air outside, and Sam knew he had to see if he could help.
“Are you all right here, Doctor?”
“If the tremors stop, then yes. I know you need to check on the rest of the town. I’ll take good care of Miss King while you’re gone.” Doc Vickery looked down at Maggie’s still form, seeing no change. “Go ahead, Deputy. Come back or send Sheriff MacLaren when you’ve taken care of everything.”
Sam glanced at Maggie, nodding before heading out the door. What he saw stopped him in his tracks. Buildings under construction had come apart, broken wood scattered everywhere. Many of the signs attached above shop entrances lay splintered on the ground. Shattered glass covered the boardwalk. People walked around as if in a trance, some still holding onto posts or rails, fearing another shockwave.
And he had yet to check the other streets, or see Brodie.
Rushing across the street, he put his arm around an older woman who staggered, her hand trying to stop the bleeding from a wound on her head.
“May I help you to the doctor’s office?”
She gripped his arm. “Yes, young man. I’d appreciate it.”
Looking toward the clinic, Sam saw several people already congregating at the entrance, waiting to see Vickery. One doctor for all these people, he thought, escorting the woman through the front door, ignoring those already waiting, then nodding at a man who stood so she could take his seat.
“I’ll be back in a moment.” Sam knocked on the room where Maggie slept, then poked his head inside. “Doc, there are a number of injuries. What do you want me to do?”
Vickery was already preparing his bag, stuffing it with medicines and bandages.
“Go to Buckie’s. Tell them we need tables cleared and the help of the ladies. Most of them will be glad to do whatever is needed.” Then he glanced at Sam. “Assuming there are any tables still usable and the ladies aren’t panicked.”
“What about Miss King?”
“Send one of the ladies back here. All she needs to do is keep watch on the patient, then come for me if she wakes up.” Vickery snapped the bag closed. “Tell them I need as much hot water as possible.”
“I’ll leave right now. Oh, there’s an elderly woman out front with a severe head injury.”
“Tell her I’ll be right out, Sam.” Vickery checked Maggie one more time, securing her blankets, then grabbed his coat as Sam knelt in front of the woman.
“Doc will be right out to check on you.” He glanced around at the others. There must have been at least twenty people waiting. “The rest of you need to walk down to Buckie’s Castle. Doc wants to set up a makeshift hospital there.”
Ignoring the grumbling, Sam dashed outside, running toward the saloon. He had a moment of panic seeing the windows blown out, both swinging doors hanging from their hinges, and the large sign on the ground, broken into three pieces. Stepping through the opening, he let out a breath. Other than broken bottles and scattered chairs, the place looked to be in good condition. He stepped to the bar where the dazed bartender stood, hands fisted at his sides.
“The doctor needs the use of the saloon and your ladies to help with the injured. He also needs as much hot water as possible.”
The bartender continued to stare, his jaw slack. Sam slammed his fist on the bar, getting the man’s attention.
“Did you hear what I said? We need your help. Now. The injured will be here any moment.”
“I think they’re already here.” The bartender’s gaze moved to the door where men and women formed a crowd, some with broken arms or legs. “I’ll get the tables ready and heat the water. Would you go upstairs and check with the ladies?” With that, the man started to move, signaling to others in the saloon to help.
“I’ll go.” Gwen, one of the women who’d worked at Buckie’s the longest, pushed herself up from her hiding place behind the bar. “I’m sure you have more urgent things to do than round up the girls, Deputy. I’m certain they’ll be glad to help.”
Touching the brim of his hat, Sam smiled. “Thank you, ma’am. Doc also asked that one of the ladies go to the clinic and watch over an unconscious patient. I need to find the sheriff and see how many more people are injured.”
“You tell Brodie that Gwen is helping out here. He’ll know not to worry.” She winked, then picked up her skirt and dashed up t
he stairs.
Sam walked up to the bartender who continued to space out the tables, wiping each down. “Thank you.” He turned to leave, then stopped at the man’s words.
“You can thank Gwen when this is over. She and the MacLaren men go back a ways. She’d do anything for them.” A slight grin split his face. “Thought I’d let you know.”
Although he didn’t care about Gwen’s friendship with the MacLarens, Sam was grateful for the information. He walked outside as Vickery came up.
“They’re ready for you, Doc. Gwen is getting the girls together.”
“Ah, Gwen. Yes, she’s a good one.” Leaving Sam outside, the doctor stepped through the broken doors to survey the scene. “Everyone take seats where you can. I need to see you in the order of those most critical, and I mean life-threatening or ready to lose an arm or leg.” He walked to the bar and set out his supplies, letting the injured decide their own severity. Turning, he offered a reassuring smile to a young boy lying on a table, whimpering, holding an arm bent at an odd angle. A woman, most likely his mother, stood next to him, stroking his forehead.
Doc Vickery leaned over him. “Have you ever had a broken arm or leg, son?”
Gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears, he shook his head. “No, sir.”
“Well, I’ve seen many of them, and we’re going to put yours back just like new. All right?”
Although his lower lip trembled, he nodded. “Yes, sir. That would be real good.”
When the quake started, Brodie tried to reach the clinic, needing to check on Maggie, make sure she was safe. Cries from down the street had him running in the opposite direction, calming citizens and checking for injured. A rancher stopped long enough to tell him Doc Vickery had set up a makeshift clinic at Buckie’s. Brodie wondered if Sam had stayed with Maggie or left to check on the damage and those who’d been hurt. Surely they wouldn’t leave her alone.
A strange sense of panic surged through him. Glancing around to confirm he’d done all he could for now, he hurried to the clinic, shouldering his way past small groups of people, most appearing to be in a daze.
“Doc? Sam?” He saw no activity in the front part of the clinic, and no one responded. Slamming open the door to the room where he’d left Maggie, he stopped at the sight of Gwen.
“I wondered when you’d get here, Brodie.” She returned her gaze to Maggie.
Staring at her inert form, he stepped to the side of the table, seeing no change from when he’d left.
“She’s been like this since I arrived. Before he left for Buckie’s, Doc said her breathing is better.” Gwen glanced at him. “He’s at the saloon, treating those injured in the earthquake.”
His gaze didn’t waver from Maggie. “Aye. That’s why I came back. To make sure someone watched over her.”
Gwen had known Brodie several years. Like she’d done for some of the older MacLaren cousins, she’d introduced him to what happened between a man and a woman, and how to treat a lady when in her bed. She knew he’d never courted any of the women in town, had no desire to be tied to one person—not yet anyway. The way he looked at Maggie, though, she wondered if that might soon change.
“I heard she escaped from your jail.”
“Aye.”
“How did this happen?” Gwen nodded at Maggie, then leaned back in the chair, stretching her arms above her head.
Brodie sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Sam and I had been searching for her all over town. We spotted her at the docks. Unfortunately, Maggie saw us and ran. When we finally found her again, Sam was at one end of the street and I was at the other, trapping her between us. She panicked and ran into the street, right in front of a wagon. The horse reared back and…” He scrubbed a shaky hand down his face, his voice fading.
“If you’re thinking her getting hurt is your fault, Brodie, you’re wrong. She put herself in the situation by escaping, then running away from you and Sam.” Her compassionate but firm voice got his attention. “I heard she killed her husband.”
“She admitted to hitting him with a skillet, but I don’t think that’s what killed him, and neither does Doc Vickery.” He took another look at Maggie before turning toward Gwen. “Can you stay a bit longer?”
“As long as you need me to, Brodie.”
He nodded. “Thank you, Gwen. I need to go speak with August Fielder.”
Her eyes widened. “You think he can help her?”
“I believe he might. Now that we’ve found her, I need to tell him what I’ve learned and do my best to convince him to be her attorney.”
“I understand he takes few cases and charges a lot to represent someone. If Fielder does agree to help her, can she afford him?”
He shook his head. “Nae. The lass has no money. After he hears what I believe happened, I’m hoping he’ll consider doing it anyway.”
“I suppose all you can do is ask the man.” She pursed her lips, her face neutral. “You go ahead. I’ll stay until you or Doc return. And, Brodie, trust me when I say it will all work out.”
Chapter Ten
It took Brodie over an hour to go the few blocks from the clinic to Fielder’s house. With all the debris in the streets, he’d chosen to walk rather than ride. Everyone stopped him, most scared and confused, having no idea what to do next. He did his best to reassure them, directing the injured to Buckie’s, and requesting they stay close to home in case another earthquake struck.
Stepping up to Fielder’s front door, he knocked, hoping the man would see him. An older woman wearing a black and white uniform opened the door, letting her gaze wander over him until she saw the badge.
Removing his hat, he took a step forward. “I’m Sheriff MacLaren. Is Mr. Fielder at home?”
“I know who you are, young man.” She crossed her arms, not budging from her spot guarding the entrance to the house. “Mr. Fielder went to the Gold Dust Hotel to check for damage. He mentioned something about inspecting the entire town. I believe he hoped to find you.”
“How long ago did he leave?”
She glared at him. For a moment, Brodie didn’t think she’d answer. “He left not long before you arrived.”
“In case I don’t find him, please let Mr. Fielder know I need to speak with him. It’s urgent.”
“As urgent as an earthquake?”
Ignoring the way her voice dripped with sarcasm, Brodie thought about Maggie. The horror on her face when she saw he’d found her, fear taking control as she ran into the path of the horse. “Aye, it is. Thank you, ma’am.”
Walking back to the street, he looked around, noting the minimal damage to the homes. As he hurried back to the jail, he checked businesses along the way to make certain no one else needed his help. Thankfully, few buildings had collapsed, most being old shacks located along the docks.
“Brodie, wait up.”
He turned to see Stein Tharaldson ride up to him and dismount. Taking a closer look, he saw numerous scrapes and bruises on his friend’s face and arms.
“Are you all right?”
“As good as can be expected. The front wall of the feed storage barn is in pieces and one of the lofts collapsed. At least no one was inside when the earthquake hit.” Stein settled his hands on his hips, making a slow turn to survey the damage. “Not as bad as it could’ve been.”
“Aye. We were lucky this time.”
“I already have my boys working on repairs. Thought I’d ride in to see if you needed any help. Ma said she’s available to tend to anyone who’s hurt.”
Like Stein, his mother had a huge heart, always offering to help those who needed it, whether it be repairing damage to their home or taking care of someone who’d fallen ill.
“Doc Vickery set up a temporary clinic at Buckie’s. Let’s go talk with him, find out if he needs more help.”
“Who’s helping him now?” Stein asked as he climbed into the saddle, holding his hand out so Brodie could swing up behind him.
“From what I’ve
heard, some of Buckie’s ladies and a few of the local church women.”
Stein laughed. “Well, that ought to be a real sight to see.”
“Millie, would you come help me calm this young man so I can take care of his leg?” The boy squirmed while Doc Vickery held a bandage to his forehead. He couldn’t be more than six or seven, yet he seemed determined not to cry.
“What can I do, Doc?” Millie walked up, placing a reassuring hand on the boy’s arm as she smiled down at him.
“Hold this bandage to stop the bleeding while I work on his leg.” He leaned toward her to whisper in her ear. “You’ll need to hold his arms down tight when I tell you. What I need to do is going to hurt like a, well…it will hurt a lot.”
Brodie and Stein walked in, seeing the doctor tending the child, Millie at his side.
“Do you need some help, Doc?” Stein moved closer, nodding at Millie, then looking at the determination on the boy’s face.
Doc lowered his voice. “Millie will need help holding him down while I straighten his leg.”
Stein moved to the other side of the table to help secure the other leg and arm. “Whenever you’re ready, Doc.”
Another minute went by as Vickery got ready, then glanced at Millie and Stein, and nodded.
“Now.”
The boy’s scream pierced the air as tears streamed down his face.
“You’re a brave young man, son.” Vickery continued to work at a rapid pace, thankful he had Millie and Stein to help him. “We’re almost done, then you can show us where you live. All right?” He’d been looking for the boy’s mother or father to walk through the door. So far, no one had shown up looking for him.
The boy closed his eyes and nodded.
Brodie’s gaze moved from the boy to the other tables, watching women, who couldn’t have been more different, work together as if they’d known each other their entire lives. It amazed him how people who’d never think about talking to each other on the street thought nothing of coming together during a calamity.
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