Innocent as Sin

by C. A. Asbrey

  "No. You drop it, and do it fast. I ain't too particular to shoot a woman in the head if the situation demands it. Do as you're told. Now!"

  Violet stood, coldly appraising the situation, not even reacting to Jake's yell before she dropped her arm with a snort as Nat whirled round to look into the face of the woman who was obviously McCully's partner in crime.

  "It's Violet. Violet Pickering," yelled Jake.

  "You’re with McCully?" demanded Nat. He reached out and snatched the gun from her hand.

  She glared at him, refusing to answer as the door to the cabin opened and two men, one blond, one dark, piled out of the door with their weapons in their hands. They took in the group outside as they raised their guns, the dark man pointing at Nat, the blond one covering Jake.

  “Drop those guns.” The dark man examined Nat. "Who the hell are you people?"

  The blond man abruptly stopped as his eyes came to rest on the unmistakable face and cropped blond hair of Frank McCully.

  "We're friends," Nat stepped forward with his hands raised. "Keep McCully and the woman covered. They’re the problem. He was about to shoot one of you through the window, but Abi obviously got to his gun, thank God."

  "Abi? You know Abi?" The blond man threw his partner a significant look.

  "Who the hell are you two? Who do you work for?" demanded the dark Pinkerton.

  "We work for ourselves, but we know you're Pinkertons and our paths have crossed with Abi before. We’ve been watching McCully too." Nat hoped he was giving enough detail to be believable while still remaining vague as to his true identity.

  "We thought he was going to kill someone tonight so we followed him out here." He darted a look at Violet Pickering. "We didn't reckon on her, though."

  "What're your names?"

  "Jonathan Black, and he's Walter Perceval,” answered Jake."I'm a bounty hunter, but McCully's bad for business."

  The two men nodded. "Where is Abi?" asked the dark one.

  "I dunno," Nat answered. "She wouldn't talk because I thought her job was too dangerous for a woman. You know what she's like when she decides to keep a secret. I've been operating on guesswork, but seeing her around McCully could mean only one thing. I marked the hooves of her horse and followed her here, but I ain't seen her."

  "You idiot!" McCully snapped at the woman, "Couldn’t you have stolen someone else's horse? You led them straight to us."

  "Abi's not here?" Jake queried.

  "Not without a horse, she ain't," said Nat, his parochial speech a clue to his heightened emotions. “I guess she's still back at the boarding house."

  "Either of you two got cuffs on you?" asked the blond man.

  "Nope." Nat’s airy tone signaled apparent unconcern at meeting Pinkerton agents. "We saw McCully riding out followed by what we thought was Abi. We followed them on impulse. You?"

  The dark man nodded. "In the cabin, you two." He gestured with his gun to McCully and Violet. “Move, now!”

  Chapter Eight

  Nat sat on his horse in Everlasting and watched the Pinkertons head over to the sheriff’s office with their prisoners. "Well, I guess there's no reason why we can't spend a night at the boarding house. The Pinkertons think we're bounty hunters, we've paid for a room, and McCully's in jail. We can head off in the morning—” his cheeks dimpled with satisfaction, “—after a spot of gloating to Abi." He chuckled, nudging his mount toward the stables. "I'm looking forward to that bit."

  Jake nodded, his voice pensive. "Who'd have thought McCully would have a sister who looked like that?" He turned to his partner. "I'm real sorry, Nat. I saw her in the shadows, but I thought she was Abi, so I didn’t do anythin’. She could’ve killed you.”

  Nat shrugged and smiled at him, understanding why he wouldn't shoot. "Well, it was a successful night, and you paid your debt, Jake."

  Jake nodded. "Thank God that woman stole her horse and kept her in Everlastin’."

  "Yup, sure did." Nat grinned. “She’s gonna be mad we were involved with her colleagues when she was kept right out of it.”

  "Not completely. She got to his gun and disabled it. She also fooled him into goin' through with it."

  The smile dropped from Nat’s chastened face. "I know. We helped, that's all. Though God only knows what mess she'll be involved in next." He turned to Jake. "She worries me, you know. It's like she doesn't care about her own life."

  Jake tugged at his reins to guide his mount. "I know what you mean. There’s a darkness deep in her. Someone who carries the same blackness can spot it easy. She needs real light cast on that shadow before she'll live a proper life again."

  Nat glanced over at his uncle. He frequently condemned himself for his lack of intelligence beside Nat’s quicksilver mind, but he was far from stupid. Jake just lacked a brain which could process vast quantities of data at the same speed as he could process the tiny cues in body language which told him when he needed to draw his gun.

  "Let's hope it happens soon, eh?"

  Jake glanced at him. "It can't be you, Nat. We both know that."

  Nat frowned. "I don't know what you mean. I’m not in the market for anything serious."

  "Nobody is until it hits them." Jake chuckled. "She's special. I can tell, and she'd be interested if you weren't a criminal. Thank God she's smart enough to make sure she keeps well away from you."

  "She's attractive. That's all. I ain’t dead. I’m not looking for anything serious."

  "She stunnin’ and she's got a mind that can tie yours in knots. That puts her in a different league from the farm girls and teachers you’re used to sparkin’. We leave first thing in the mornin’, Nat. No excuses."

  ♦◊♦

  The stable doors creaked open and they led their animals in, ready to bed them down for the night. Nat strode over to the oil lamp hanging on the hook and lit it. A warm, cozy glow filled the stables, lighting the way for Jake as he led them forward toward the stalls.

  He stopped dead in his tracks as the horses shied and whinnied in distress at the sight in front of them, yanking at his arm as they bucked and pulled back.

  “Nat!”

  Abigail's body lay in a pool of blood which trailed and collected from a wound on the side of her head as her life source ebbed from her body. The congealing puddle ran off into the discolored hay of the stall. Her head was turned to the side, and the blood found numerous routes across her face, turning into gruesome streams which formed a ghastly mask over her pale, lifeless face.

  Nat ran over, gasping in horror at the sight before him. "Abi?"

  He dropped to his knees and gathered her body in his arms as burning tears hit the back of his throat. She hung, limp in his arms like a broken doll as he hugged her to him. “No—"

  He stared at her as visions of her face floated around his mind, laughing, living and challenging the world to take her on.

  A tangible pain ached at his core as his heart cracked at the thought of what he had lost before he’d had the chance to even realize what he’d found. It was a soreness which began as a knot before it spread across his chest and stomach until every nerve in his body jangled. It was one he had felt before—too often. He hugged her to him, sucking in her scent as he stared in disbelief.

  "We need to get help, Nat."

  "She's not breathing, Jake. She’s dead." He darted hopeless brown eyes to Jake, blinking back tears as his anger surged to the fore. "Her horse! Violet killed her when she stole her horse. I’ll kill her, that evil bitch—”

  "She's in jail, and she ain't worth hangin’ for. We’ll be there when they do. We’ll watch the law hang her, thanks to the work Abi already did. It ain't worth you goin' down for murder, too. She wouldn't want that."

  He realized Jake was right as he swallowed his helplessness. A part of his future had died with her. She was like him in a way; the good side of him, the positive, worthy, valuable member of society he could have become if things had turned out differently, or he had made better choices. It was too l
ate now. Too late for almost everything.

  Nat dropped his head and nuzzled into her, his face red with her blood as his tears pooled before they tumbled down his cheeks, squeezed out by his futile attempts to blink them away.

  Jake stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Stay with her, Nat. I'll go. I’ll get someone."

  ♦◊♦

  The dark Pinkerton strode forward as his colleague delicately helped Jake extricate Abigail's body from Nat’s arms, his face and clothes stained with her blood. The man’s dark eyes looked into Nat’s as he softly spoke with professional kindness, crouching to touch his arm. "My name’s Tom. Tom Bartlett. I used to be an army surgeon. I’m a doctor now. Let me look after her. I’ll take real good care. She’s a good friend of mine, too."

  Nat’s glittering eyes turned to the man, nodding mutely at him. Emotion swirled in the chocolate depths before he swallowed his caustic angst and handed her body over.

  "Were they close?” The blond man whispered to Jake as he looked at the darkness engulfing the man before him.

  "Not really. It's kinda complicated. Maybe? If she had lived? They kinda thought the same way. They were fond of each other. Real good friends."

  The two men nodded in mutual understanding as Dr. Bartlett laid her on the straw and started to make the preliminary examinations to pronounce life formally extinct. He felt for a pulse, he pulled up her eyelids and looked into her dull, sightless eyes before he brought out a small mirror and held it under her nose.

  He held it there for a while before his back stiffened and he examined it.

  "Bring that lamp over here!"

  "Sure."

  He held the mirror to Abigail again before examining the surface in better light.

  "She's still alive."

  "What?"

  "The mirror! The mirror misted over, faintly. It was so faint I wasn't even sure the first time. But I checked. She’s still breathing—just."

  The whole atmosphere suddenly changed in an instant as the stables exploded into activity as Abigail was gathered into the doctor’s arms and carried over to the local doctor’s office.

  They ran in a huddle. The doctor’s office was only a few doors away, and Jake reached it first, battering at the door with his fist.

  "Can you save her?" Nat asked, desperation coming through in his voice as he questioned the doctor.

  "She's lost a lot of blood. Maybe too much." Bartlett paused, his irritated foot thumping at the surgery door as he was getting no response from inside. "Oh, for God’s sake, man. Open this door!"

  "Allow me?" Jake Conroy took out his gun and shot the lock off, meeting the doctor’s surprised eyes with raised eyebrows.

  They stormed in, the shot finally gaining the attention of the local doctor who appeared in a ratty dressing gown, reeking of whiskey. The man held a guttering candle which cast a flickering light etching shadows into every wrinkle and crease on his face.

  "What the hell?"

  The men were in no mood to pander to him. "She's had a shot to the head.”

  He blustered, but the men were in no mood to pander to him.

  "It’s a glancing wound, but she’s been lying over there in the stables bleeding for a long time. She needs a transfusion. Why didn’t you answer the door, man?"

  The doctor gazed at Dr. Bartlett with eyes swirling with confusion, his mad, frizzy gray hair surrounding his bald pate. "I was asleep. Transfusion? I've never done a transfusion."

  Tom Bartlett looked at the man through narrowing eyes before glancing around at the equipment in the office in disdain. "Where’d you qualify?"

  "I—Philadelphia."

  Tom’s eyes narrowed. "What university? Which doctor did you study under? How many years did you study?"

  Without waiting for an answer Dr. Bartlett barked out an order, betraying his army roots. "Mike, get him the hell outta here. He ain't qualified. He's a quack." He laid Abigail out on the couch and rolled up his sleeves.

  Bartlett was an adherent of Joseph Lister’s new work in the prevention of infections, and kept everything clean and as sterile as possible. "I need water, boiled hard; to a rolling boil. And carbolic. Knock every door until you find it. There's a pharmacist down the street, try there." He turned and yelled at Nat. “Find bandages. Make them into a wad and put pressure on that wound.”

  "Carbolic? I’ll go get it!" yelled Jake, running into the darkness as Mike heaved huge stockpots out from a kitchen cupboard and put all the water he could find on to boil.

  Dr. Bartlett fixed Nat with determined eyes. "She needs blood. It’s not always successful, but it's all we got. I can give a pint. Can you?"

  Nat looked at her broken body on the table as he let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "Blood?" This concept was new to him, and the doubt flickered over his face.

  "Yes. She’s lost a lot." Bartlett wrapped rubber tubing around his own upper arm, pumping his fist until the veins stood out. "We use our blood to replace hers. It’s our only hope. She’s nearly gone."

  Nat didn't hesitate for a second. "I'll give you as much as you need, Doc. Anything. Do me first."

  ♦◊♦

  Tom Bartlett walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, his face tired and drawn as he turned to the men sitting around the kitchen table. Nat still looked gray and harrowed, but had washed Abigail’s blood from his face at Jake's urging.

  "She's better. Her breathing is stronger and her pulse is regular. She has a long way to go yet, and she ain't out of the woods, but she has a chance. A small one, but it's still a chance. The bullet didn’t penetrate her skull, it hit the superficial temporal vein. She was knocked out and left to bleed to death in the stable. God willing, she’ll pull through. She had defensive injuries on her hands and arms. I’m guessing she caught Violet sneaking off and they had a fight.”

  He turned and leaned wearily against the range. "She's reacting well to the blood transfusion so far. It's a desperate act, and it’s usually the last resort because most people die from them. We don't even know why." He sighed heavily. "But we might get lucky. A couple of soldiers had their lives saved that way in the war, but most died. I’ll have to keep an eye on her to see if it took. If she turns yellow and gets a fever, there’ll be no hope. It’s given her the strength to have some fight so far, though."

  "Thank you, Doctor."

  "You're welcome, Mr. Quinn."

  Jake’s hand darted to his gun as the blond man smiled, and he sat back and folded his arms.

  "We ain't idiots, Mr. Conroy, and Abigail told us everything." His eyes drifted to Jake's gun. "Leave that. We’re all here for the same reason; to stop McCully…and now, to save Abi. Relax. We ain’t interested in you two." He sat back and smiled at both of them. "Tom would be dead now if it wasn't for you. He was sitting right in front of that window. Sure, McCully's gun had been tampered with by Abi, but he would have gotten his sister’s and used it. None of us knew about her. Dear God, we'd never have left Abi alone with her if we had. She's a treacherous witch. Who knows how many innocent people she's killed in cold blood to help her brother make a dirty living?"

  The dark-haired doctor continued. “I saw something in you, right from the start. Real humanity, at the cabin and again at the stables with Abi. You saved my life, so you get a chance. All anyone needs to know is bounty hunters who knew Abi stepped in to help, then disappeared. Go. You gave her the best chance of life anyone could."

  Jake scowled. "You mean that?"

  "I sure do. I’m not even sure we’d have checked the stables at all. If she wasn’t found until morning, she would definitely have died. You didn't do this to stop McCully catching you. You cared about the lives he took. I can see that."

  Nat darted an anxious glance at the dark man who looked similar to him in coloring, but had a Roman nose as opposed to Nat’s smaller, straight one. "Doctor Bartlett, how will she be? If she lives? It’s a head injury. Will she be normal?" His eyes glittered with intensi
ty, but the question was asked through a haze of distress.

  "The bullet only grazed her. I think she fought and that stopped it being fatal. It hit a major blood vessel near her temple, that's why she lost so much blood. She’ll have one hell of a headache, but I doubt there'll be brain damage. It didn't penetrate the skull." He smiled. "There's nothing to be gained by you staying here. Her biggest danger now is infection, and a reaction to the transfusion. That’s my job. Get yourselves to safety. More agents will be arriving tomorrow and they may not be as philosophical as us."

  The blond Pinkerton smiled at them. "She was always impressed by you two. Now we know why. The best advice I can give you is to get out of here while the getting’s good."

  The doctor’s eyes met Nat’s from across the room. "She's got a discerning eye, Mr. Quinn, and I have to say I share your excellent taste in women. Go—before we change our minds."

  "Wait." Mike smiled at Jake before he turned to the doctor. "I can't see why they couldn't leave after a night's rest. Can you, Tom?"

  Tom Bartlett’s trained eyes glittered across at them, noting the men slipping into fatigue before he nodded. "I think it's a good idea."

  ”No, I think we should leave." Jake Conroy’s voice was underscored with determination.

  "Listen,” Tom said. “You saved my life. The least I can do is let you have a night's sleep. Go. Rest, and you can look in on her in the morning before you go. I’m a fair man. Besides, it’s what she’d want."

  ♦◊♦

  Nat stared aimlessly ahead as they rode out into the bright expanse of the verdant valley. Mountains provided the rocky walls around the rich meadow, topped by a vault of jewel-blue sky. A spine of dotted clouds swept off into the far distance. It was a beautiful, bright clear day with a mellow touch of autumnal loam in the air and a gentle breeze kissing the skin with an ethereal balmy breath. The temperature was perfect; warm without any of the oppressive burning heat of recent days. Birds chattered and sang their little hearts out as they darted about catching insects and selecting only the juiciest berries and plumpest seeds before winter’s icy grasp shriveled and wizened nature’s bounty.