Lois's Risk

by Kimberly Grist

  “Believe you made a similar statement this time last year.” Daniel slapped Scotty’s back.

  Scotty winced, then placed his hand on his upper arm. “Tarnation, Daniel, they winged me.”

  Daniel pulled his bandana from his neck as Scotty sank on to a hay bale. “I sure hope one of the detective’s recruits is a doctor.” He ripped Scotty’s sleeve to gain access to the wound, then used his neckerchief as a bandage. “Stay put. I’m going for help.”

  Daniel opened the door toward the engine and met Detective Moore headed in their direction. “Scotty’s hit. Is there a doctor on board?”

  His face grim, he nodded. “I’ll get him.”

  Daniel clenched his jaw at the sight of Scotty’s pale face. God, show me what to do. He tore the already saturated sleeve from Scotty’s shirt. “Hang in there, buddy. I am going to tighten your tourniquet.”

  He ripped the discarded sleeve in a strip, then tied it above the wound just below his shoulder. Daniel removed his knife from his boot to use as a torsion device and twisted. Sweat dripped from his face and neck, and he took in a deep breath. Please God, stop this bleeding.

  The door opened with a bang. Detective Moore appeared carrying clean cloths. “Looks like you’ve got it stopped. We’ve got two doctors on board.” He cleared his throat, “and one is on the way.”

  Scotty opened his eyes. Detective Moore cut off the bandana below the tourniquet. “You boys did a great job. We sure surprised them. A couple of the men on the far side of the train barely got off a shot.”

  The detective forced a smile. “ Gonna change the bandage and tie the wound up again until the doctor has a chance to get here. It doesn’t look too bad. Might only need a few stitches.”

  Daniel took a bandana from his pocket and wiped his face. The door opened, and the conductor entered followed by a beautiful young woman with bright blue eyes, carrying a doctor’s bag. “ Let me be the judge of that, Detective.”

  “My apologies, Doctor. Let me step aside.”

  Daniel stood frozen, his hand still on the tourniquet. The doctor’s skirt swooshed. She smelled of roses, which immediately reminded him of Lois. “Just let me look before you tie it off again.”

  Scotty muttered, then opened his eyes.

  “Hello, I am Doctor Lane. I’m a recent graduate of the Woman’s Medical College of Pennsylvania. I’ve spent countless hours training with my father who is also a physician on the train attending to another patient. Will you permit me to treat your arm?”

  Scotty lifted his head, looked at Daniel and then the woman. “Yes, ma’am. I mean, yes, thank you, Doctor.”

  The doctor flashed him a smile and spoke softly. “Excellent job, gentlemen, on slowing down the bleeding. I need to flush out the wound. It’s imperative we move the patient to cleaner facilities. Detective, can you find us a spot where I can work? Perhaps a sleeper car,” the doctor asked.

  Detective Moore stepped closer. “We can take him to the owner’s private car, but it’s all the way at the back of the train.”

  Scotty leaned forward. “If you can give me a hand up and help keep me steady, I can walk.”

  With Daniel’s support, Scotty walked to the owner’s car, amongst cheers and applause from the passengers. Daniel let out a deep breath when he passed women and children. Thank you, Lord, for your protection.

  Chapter 11

  “The revenge of the savage, the roughness of the barbarous, and the rudeness of even some who claim to be civilized, are all lost in the good will and suavity of gentle manners.”

  Houghton, Walter R.. American Etiquette Rules of Politeness

  New York: Standard Publishing House, 1883.

  While Scotty recovered in the private bedroom of the owner’s car, Detective Moore gathered the men together in the parlor and assigned duties for the next several days. “Congratulations, men, on a job well done.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a box. “Help yourself to a cigar. Compliments of the owner.”

  Detective Moore puffed, curled his lips, then exhaled slowly, adding a spinning technique to a beautiful stream of small circles. “Although I don’t expect another hit, as we make the next several stops, you will be split up into smaller teams, riding on separate trains for the next two weeks or until we are certain that the bandits are apprehended. During this time, I will be visiting with the newspapers along the way conveying the message that this railroad takes the safety of our passengers seriously.”

  ***

  Daniel supervised the security during the train stops for the next several days while the detective took the time to communicate with the railroad and with the local papers. Waving a telegraph in his hand, Detective Moore followed him on board the train. “Just got word several posses caught up with the bandits and they are all in custody but one.”

  “That’s a relief.” Daniel sank into the upholstered chair in the owner’s car across from Scotty who slept peacefully. The doctor had cleaned and stitched the wound in his upper arm. “His arm will be sore, but I believe he should make a full recovery within the next few months.”

  The detective gathered smoke in his mouth. He formed a round shape with his lips, then blew mini-rings of smoke. “I’m ordering you to get some rest, Sergeant. You look like death, and you will do me no good if you keel over.”

  Daniel smiled slightly at the reference to his former title as a Ranger. He took off his hat and rubbed his hands through his hair. The quiet of the night made him dread going to bed, even at the point of exhaustion, because sleep wouldn’t come, since inevitably his thoughts turned to Lois.

  Placing his hand inside his vest, he pulled out the envelope and traced the swirls she had created when she penned his name. Just get it over with, Daniel. Then maybe you can get some sleep. Holding his breath, he opened the seal and removed the letter.

  Dear Daniel,

  Last year when you stated you needed to devote yourself to your family, I admired your dedication and still do. However, I confess I believed after some time passed you would want to renew our relationship. As the months passed, I came to think you had lost interest in me. I tried to keep myself busy and forget, but my feelings for you are too deep. Memories of our courtship keep you in the forefront of my mind. I miss you and long for things to be as they were. I hope you will not think ill of me for telling you how I feel. But my heart tells me to take the risk.

  In order to spare us both embarrassment, if you do not return my feelings and would prefer to leave things the way they are now, please do not trouble yourself with a response.

  I will be saddened, but I will not make any further effort to seek you out or cause you discomfort.

  All my love,

  Lois

  Daniel’s jaw dropped. He straightened his back, then glanced out the window. What about the bank owner? He leaned forward and reviewed the letter. The sweet aroma of cinnamon floated toward him in the form of assorted-sized circles of smoke.

  “Bad news?” Detective Moore pulled up a side chair next to Daniel.

  He leaned back and closed his eyes. “I’ve been carrying this envelope around for two weeks, dreading to read its contents. Turns out it’s not the news I expected, so I am having a hard time believing what it says.”

  “Must be from a woman,” the detective huffed.

  “I heard that,” Doctor Lane said as she walked over to check on her patient. “His color looks better. His breathing is good. I’ve begun to wean him off the pain medication. I expect him to be alert for longer periods soon. When he wakes the next time, please let me know.”

  Snapping her bag closed, she looked at Daniel. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help but overhear. Perhaps you’d do better not to consult a stuffy old bachelor.” Her blue eyes twinkled.

  “Stuffy? Old? The detective stood, then catching her grin, his mouth lifted slightly.

  Maybe it would help to get another woman’s advice. Daniel rubbed the back of his neck. “Last year I got hit with a multitude of
personal problems after my brother-in-law passed away. My sister struggled to cope. I moved her and my niece in with me and added on to the house to make her feel at home. But she remained in a state of depression for months.”

  He offered the doctor his chair and began to pace. “I was stretched financially, physically and emotionally and broke off a relationship with a wonderful young woman. Recently I learned that the bank owner had been calling on her. I thought this letter was an announcement of her upcoming marriage.”

  “I see.” Doctor Lane tapped her fingers along her bag. “But the letter contained something else?”

  Daniel’s voice cracked. “Yes.” He unfolded the letter and passed it to Dr. Lane.

  She reached for the paper and began to read, then glanced up with a raised eyebrow. Her blue eyes met his. “You say she is a wonderful young woman. Has she ever said or done anything to make you believe she is dishonest? Or conniving?”

  Daniel shook his head. “No, not at all.”

  “You said you are having a problem believing its contents? Do you not return her affections?” She handed the letter back.

  Daniel blinked. “I love her alright. I just think she deserves a whole lot better than I have to give.”

  “And the fact that she disagrees with you, does that make a difference? It was a brave and bold thing to write such a letter. She says you are worth the risk.” Dr. Lane gave a half smile. “The only problem I see is since you haven’t responded, she must think you want nothing to do with her.”

  Detective Moore placed his hand on Daniel’s back. “Mind if I look? “His dark eyebrows drew together and his mouth moved as he read.

  “Wouldn’t matter if I did, since you were already reading it over my shoulder.” Daniel chuckled.

  The detective’s eyebrows lifted, then he slapped his hand on Daniel’s back. “The next water stop has a telegraph office.”

  Chapter 12

  “A love letter should be dignified in tone and expressive of esteem and affection. It should be free from silly and extravagant expressions and contain nothing of which the writer would be ashamed were the letter to fall under the eyes of any person beside the one to whom it was written.”

  Houghton, Walter R. American Etiquette Rules of Politeness

  New York: Standard Publishing House, 1883

  Two days later Detective Moore and Daniel met with railroad officials in St. Joseph, Missouri. The next day while the detective met with the newspaper, Daniel and Scotty, who was now recovered enough to move about, decided to explore. The town was considered a modern wonder with sixty-thousand inhabitants, numerous factories and seventy passenger trains each day.

  They spent most of the morning riding the streetcar. The conductor bragged the town of St. Joe had more miles of electric railway than New York City. “It’s a village within the city. Most everything imaginable is easy access—banks, laundry, doctor, dentist, shopping and entertainment.”

  The clang of the streetcar’s bell sounded behind them as they strolled into the post office. He had written a brief letter to his sister and niece stating the mission was near to complete and he hoped to be home soon. The message to Lois was more difficult.

  Much to Detective Moore’s amusement, Daniel had stared at the paper for at least an hour. “Just tell her you love her, and you’ll see her when you get back. Short and to the point is always best,” he said and reached for another cigar.

  “I would suggest you not listen to a ‘confirmed bachelor,’ married to his cigars.” Doctor Lane countered with one hand on her hip.

  “You’re twisting my words.” Detective Moore scowled. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  Daniel’s eyebrows rose as he studied the faces of the tall, broad-shouldered detective and the petite doctor. Opposites in stature but similar in mind. They remained locked in their gazes, which reminded him of two opposing bulls in a single pasture.

  Daniel cleared his throat. “I do want to say just that, detective.” Daniel picked up Lois’s letter. “Her words seem heartfelt; I want mine to read the same.” Daniel chuckled as both snapped from their standoff and looked his way.

  Dr. Lane took a seat at the card table next to Daniel. “Why don’t you respond to each paragraph and explain how you feel, then tell her you love her and will be back soon.”

  Daniel blew out a slow breath as he posted his letters. I hope she’ll forgive me for not responding sooner. He glanced at Scotty who mailed two postcards scratched with identical notes to Emma and his parents. “You’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?” Daniel covered his grin with his hand.

  “Very funny.” Scotty rubbed his jaw. “I couldn’t come up with the right words.”

  “Apparently so.” Daniel looked heavenward. “After we take your watch in for repair, I’d like to check out the stockyard they just opened. The hotel clerk said it’s supposed to be the largest west of Chicago. Do you feel up to it?”

  Scotty reached for his pocket watch and ran his thumb over the small crack in the glass. “I’ve got no objection.”

  The pair strolled silently toward the watch repair and jewelry shop. The bell attached to the door announced their arrival with a jingle. While the owner spoke with Scotty about his watch, Daniel felt pulled to a glass-top counter filled with jewelry. His eyes were drawn to a round-flower circle design with deep, royal blue gems surrounded by seed pearls. His mouth lifted. I know she likes pearls and the color of the stone reminds me of her eyes.

  A chorus of bells and music signaled the top of the hour and interrupted his thoughts. Various wooden clocks with detailed carvings along the wall came to life. Figures dressed in bright colors emerged from a cuckoo clock and danced in a circle. Within seconds the sound returned to methodical ticks, joined with mechanical gears as they slid against each other.

  Daniel returned his attention to the jewelry case. Scotty joined him at the counter. His eyebrows rose. “You looking for something in particular?”

  The corners of Daniel’s eyes crinkled. “Don’t act so surprised. But seeing how Emma will have written you off by the time we get back, it would be a waste of your time.”

  Scotty scowled as he readjusted his sling. “All right, Romeo, I’m open to suggestions.”

  Chuckling, Daniel peered into the cabinet. “It would be hard to go wrong with anything in this display. But if you aren’t planning on marrying her, then don’t bother.”

  “I see you are bent on antagonizing me. But I figure we might need a place to live before I ask her.” Scotty ambled toward the display case.

  “You’ve got plenty of options if you’re going to continue as deputy. Stay with your parents or rent a place in town. On the other hand, once Sam marries Rebecca, they will be spending more time at her ranch. Emma’s family need help, and I bet he’d be tickled pink for Emma to live close,” Daniel said.

  “You make it sound simple.” Scotty swallowed. “I’ve got two concerns. Disappointing my pa and being beholding to Emma’s.”

  Daniel rubbed his jaw. “I don’t think you give either man enough credit. Your pa might be disappointed, but he loves you, which means he wants you to be happy. Adam is the same. He loves his family and his ranch. I think you’d be a welcome addition.”

  “He and his brother Sam both have hinted something similar. Even so, I don’t want people to say I married Emma for a free ride.”

  Daniel stood and met Scotty’s gaze. “My brother-in-law felt the same way you do. After their farm took such a hit from the last blizzard, I did all but beg him to leave it and partner with me. Sometimes I blame myself. What if I’d been more persuasive, or stressed how much I wanted them to join me? But now it’s too late.”

  Scotty wiggled his swollen fingers. “Before the bandits showed up, I asked God to protect me and give me the skill to shield the others on the train. Since then I’ve been asking him to show me what He wants me to do going forward. I’ve been given a second chance, and I want to make the most of it.”

  “Which is
exactly the way I’m looking at it.” Daniel straightened and met the owner’s gaze. He pointed at the display. “I’d like to take a closer look at some of the items in your case.”

  Chapter 13

  "Our tokens of love are for the most part barbarous, cold, and lifeless because they do not represent our life. The only gift is a portion of thyself. Therefore, let the farmer give his corn; the miner, his gem; the sailor, his corals and shells; the painter, his picture; and the poet, his poem.”

  Houghton, Walter R. American Etiquette Rules of Politeness

  New York: Standard Publishing House, 1883

  “Whooee. Looks like a tornado ripped through here this morning.” Light bounced from the star on Leo’s vest. “The strange thing is I didn’t see any signs of it touching down anywhere else when I was making rounds this morning.”

  “Very funny, brother,” Lois smirked as she examined her shop. The window cast light onto a room in complete disarray. The Singer sewing machine held work in progress. Stacks of muslin, linen, and calico were scattered on her work table.

  The entire morning was spent completing Emma’s bridesmaid dress, which now outfitted a mannequin. She smoothed the pleating on the solid plum-color underskirt, which complemented the matching silk brocade overskirt and bodice.

  “The time I’ve spent the last few days working on items for Rebecca's wedding has put me behind. Your observation of the result of a hurricane missed its mark. I would counter it’s the result of a whirlwind.” She grinned at her brother.

  Leo chuckled as he stepped toward the mannequin. “Looks real pretty. I notice Amanda’s not here today. She hasn’t quit on you already, has she?”

  “No, Helen has been sick with a cough. She took work home with her and hopes to be back in a day or two.” Lois lifted the bridal headpiece, fashioned with orange blossoms created from wax flowers, and placed it in a box.

  Leo reached into his vest pocket, then cleared his throat. “I just went by the post office to drop off something for the sheriff. There was a letter for you.”