by Joyce Armor
“Drop it, mister,” Garrett said in his most threatening voice.
The man stopped shooting but hesitated, always a bad sign.
“Now,” Garrett spat out.
“Sure, sure, don’t shoot,” the man said.
He dropped the rifle and started to turn. At that moment, he pulled a revolver from his waist, but before he could fire it, Garrett’s six-shooter spoke, propelling a bullet into his heart. He dropped like a stone. Garrett walked up to him to check his pulse, although he knew he was dead.
“All clear!” he yelled.
Jackson opened the door and jogged out to where the shooter lay and Garrett stood.
“Nice shooting,” he said.
“I was aiming for his shoulder,” Garrett replied dryly. “I was hoping we could talk to him.”
Jackson put two fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly. It was only moments before their horses came trotting in from the creek side of the line shack.
“Let’s get Libby to town. I’ll send somebody back for him and his horse.”
“Make we should take her to the ranch and have the doc come out.”
Jackson shook his head. “I don’t think we can wait that long.”
That almost sent Garrett into a panic. What was wrong with him? He never panicked. As they headed to town, Libby practically burning Garrett as he held her in front of him, they talked about the man Garrett had killed. How had he known to come to the line shack? He had to have followed Garrett and Jackson. “We’re slipping,” Garrett said.
“We were focused on Libby. I think we need to set out some guards. We can’t have murderers wandering the property.”
The doctor was out, but his congenial wife did some initial first aid on Libby, cleaning the wound, wrapping the ankle and getting some willow-bark tea down her patient to combat the fever. An hour later, the doctor returned from a ranch call and treated the cut with some concoction, wrapping it in gauze soaked in carbolic acid. He also applied a cold cloth to her forehead and replaced it frequently.
Garrett looked at her lying so pale and still. She seemed so frail and fragile, although he knew from experience how strong and feisty she was. He vowed to be nicer to her if she recovered. No, when she recovered. He could not have explained why he had taken such a contrary attitude toward her from the beginning and was ashamed of the way he had treated her. It wasn’t too late. It couldn’t be.
“How is she?” Jackson placed a hand on Garrett’s shoulder. He hadn’t even heard his boss and mentor come in.
“About the same, I guess. At least she doesn’t seem any worse.”
“I need to get back to the ranch. I’ve got a buyer coming in.”
“Jackson, I…”
“You should stay. She still needs protection, and you’re not fit to ride the range yet anyway.”
Garrett had broken several of his stitches and the shoulder was bleeding and throbbing when they brought Libby in. The doc had restitched it, shaking his head.
“I’ll bring her back to the ranch as soon as she can travel.”
Jackson nodded. “Be careful. Her enemies may be in town. If you need help, send a messenger.”
It was Garrett’s turn to nod. Jackson headed off as the doctor approached.
“She’ll sleep for hours,” he said. “We’ll know more tomorrow. And how are you, Garrett? Do I need to check that shoulder again?”
“I’m fine, Doc. Just a twinge now and then.” Though that was a little overly optimistic description, Garrett was not thinking about himself.
The doctor looked skeptical, but then he smiled. “We’d be pleased if you’d join us for dinner, Garrett. You know my wife makes some great venison stew.”
“Thank you, Doc. I need to stay with her, however. I believe she is still in danger.”
The doctor nodded. “I’ll have Lena deliver you a bowl of stew with some of her famous butter biscuits.”
“I appreciate that.” Garrett, weary to the bone, sank down into a chair next to Libby and pushed a few strands of her dark hair off her face and behind an ear. “She’s still so hot.”
“The fever is actually helping her fight the infection. We’ll keep applying the cool cloth to her forehead to keep it from getting any higher, though. If it does rise, we’ll try a cold bath.” He studied Garrett for a moment. “This is rather a reversal of a few days ago, when she refused to leave your bedside.”
Garrett just smiled kind of sadly. The doctor smiled back to assure Garrett and left the room. The cowboy looked back at Libby and impulsively picked up her delicate hand. “You are so stubborn, Libby. I know you can fight this. You didn’t travel all the way out here to lose this battle. Fight this. Please.”
She moaned but didn’t open her eyes. He felt the cloth on her head and removed it, carrying it across the room to a basin filled with cold water. He soaked the cloth thoroughly, wrung it out and went back to the bed. Gently, he set it onto her forehead. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he heard a little sigh. If he was right, she almost sounded content.
Several hours later, Garrett was dozing in the chair beside Libby after having enjoyed a tasty meal courtesy of the doctor’s wife. He didn’t remember hearing anything but somehow felt another presence in the room. Even as he opened his eyes he was reaching for his revolver.
“Easy, cowboy, I’m not looking for trouble,” said an Eastern dandy, dressed in gray greenhorn finery. He was probably in his 50s, with a very pale complexion, pencil-thin mustache, angular features and dead eyes.
“What do you want?” Garrett asked coolly.
“The first thing I want is to know why you’re here with my fiancée.”
Edward Capo DeJulius. He was as repellant as Libby had described him. There was no way he would let her marry this miscreant.
“The engagement is broken.” Garrett kept his hand on the revolver.
“Not according to her father.”
“You mean her stepfather? The man who has been trying to kill her?”
“That’s preposterous.” And incredibly annoying. That backstabbing Elias Parminter. And he never mentioned he was her stepfather, not her father. He’ll get his due.
“Yet true.”
“I’m ready to take Elizabeth back to St. Louis immediately.”
“She’s not going anywhere with you. In any case, look at her. She’s not in any condition to travel.”
“I’m certain I can count on her physician to get her into traveling condition. She hasn’t yet reached her majority and is under my authority. I’ll be back tomorrow with a constable.”
Dismissing Garrett without even asking who he was, he stomped off. The cowboy had a very bad feeling about the man. There was no doubt in his mind that DeJulius would take a weakened Libby against her will, and she might not have the strength to refuse his advances. He could drug her or beat her or otherwise force her into the unwanted marriage. And once he had her dowry, her very life would be in danger. Garrett had to do something, and he had to do that something now. He went to find the doctor.
At 1 a.m. that night, he carried a feather-light and limp Libby to his horse, which the doctor had had the liveryman saddle and bring to his back door. He handed her to Doc Watkins and mounted and then leaned over as the doctor handed Libby up. He also placed a bag in Garrett’s saddlebag.
“Don’t forget to give her a spoonful of laudanum if she needs it for pain—not more than once or twice in a 24-hour period—and use the carbolic-soaked gauze, changing it at least twice a day. I’ll be out to see her in the afternoon, probably late.”
“Thanks, Doc, for everything.”
“At this rate, I could make a living just from the Butterman spread.”
Garrett smiled grimly. “I’m sure you could.”
He waved and walked the horse behind several buildings before cutting through an alley and heading out of town. As soon as he reached the town limits, he kicked his gelding into a canter, holding Libby securely against his chest. It was
a clear night, which afforded him a little view, although it was still dangerous traveling at night. And there was no guarantee that Libby’s father had not hired a legion of gunmen rather than just one. For that matter, DeJulius could have men out after them. Garrett barely remembered when life had been simple.
“Garrett?” Libby called out weakly.
“I’m here,” he said, not slowing down.
“What…what happened?”
“After you ran away, you hurt your ankle and a bad cut got infected. You were at the doc’s in town, but Edward DeJulius is there, and he threatened to come with law enforcement and get you in the morning.”
“No! I won’t go!”
She struggled weakly and he held on tighter.
“Settle down before I drop you. I didn’t know if he could legally do that since you’re under 21 and your stepfather has apparently agreed he’s your fiancé, but I didn’t want to take the chance, so we’re heading back to the ranch.”
“I wasn’t running away…I was trying to lead my trouble away from the ranch.”
“Well, it’s our trouble now.”
“I’m…I’m so sorry.” Her voice was fading.
“It’s all right. We’re not afraid of trouble, Libby. Just sleep. I’ll get you back there as fast as I can.”
“If…if I don’t make it, you need to tell Jackson…”
“You’ll make it and tell him yourself. You’re strong, Libby, and brave. You’ll make it.”
She was quiet then, so he assumed she had fallen asleep. Thank goodness she wasn’t unconscious anymore, but this ride couldn’t have been doing her much good. He looked behind periodically to make sure they weren’t followed and finally, after what seemed like the longest ride he had ever taken to the ranch, they reached the crest overlooking the ranch valley. He urged the horse into a gallop and was nearly to the ranch house when a shot rang out.
For God’s sakes, would this never end? Thank goodness these shooters seemed to be fairly lousy shots. As he got closer to the house, Jackson came onto the veranda in his long johns, and he began to fire back. They never heard another rifle shot from the bad guy. Garrett pulled up in front of Jackson, who took Libby from him and carried her into the house. By the time Garrett had unsaddled, rubbed down and fed his horse, Libby was sound asleep in her room with Carmen fretting over her. He met Jackson in his study, where they each had a glass of brandy.
“I’ll get the sentries out in the morning. Well, it is morning, but when everyone’s up. How’s the shoulder?”
“Sore enough.” Garrett sank into a padded chair. “Edward DeJulius is in town and threatening to bring the sheriff into forcing Libby to leave with him. I’m not letting her go. This isn’t your fight, though. I can handle it.”
“We can use the doctor. He’ll say she isn’t capable of traveling for several days, and she probably won’t be. That only temporarily solves the problem, however.”
“That is one evil-looking fellow, the kind that makes your skin crawl. I wouldn’t put anything past him.”
“We already knew she’s safer here.”
“I think one or both of these factions will attack. Do you think we need to hire more men?”
Jackson studied the brandy in his glass and didn’t speak for several moments. Then he looked at Garrett, and the young foreman knew he had a plan. He had never met anybody smarter than Jackson Butterman. “I have an idea of how to defuse the situation. It should make Libby safe for the time being, but it could put you in more danger.”
“That’s fine with me if it saves her. What did you have in mind?”
Jackson looked at Garrett again with that piercing look and then said, “You marry her. Tonight.”
“What?!” Garrett nearly dropped his glass. That was the last thing he thought Jackson would say.
“Think about it. Her stepfather loses any interest in the dowry if she’s married. As does DeJulius. Of course, he may still try to take you out and force your widow into marriage. At least that takes the stepfather out of the picture and the target off Libby’s back.”
“A marriage of convenience?”
Jackson smiled. “That would be up to the two of you.”
“I don’t think she would ever agree.”
“Would you?”
Garrett thought seriously for a few moments. “To save her, I guess I would.”
“Do you want to ask her? If she agrees, we need to send someone for the preacher now, before DeJulius comes here with the sheriff. I have a feeling he’ll be here first thing in the morning.”
“Sheriff Braun is a decent man.”
“Yes, though he’ll have to follow the law. Do you want me to talk to Libby?”
“I do. I really do,” Garrett said ruefully, but if I’m going to ask her to marry me, I’d better do it in person, don’t you think?”
“I’ll send Clem to town for a preacher.”
“That’s awfully optimistic.”
“And my offer still stands. I’ll give you that 100 acres you have your eye on. Have you been able to save enough money to build there?”
Garrett stood, holding his shoulder. “Yes. Not a fancy mansion, but that’s not what I want anyway.”
Jackson came up to him a put a hand on his good shoulder. “Are you sure about this?”
“Surprisingly, yes.”
Chapter 10
Ten minutes later Garrett was sitting next to a sleeping Libby, his heart pounding. He had asked Carmen to leave them alone. She gave him a motherly what-do-you-think-you’re-doing look but picked up a tray of barely eaten biscuits and gravy and left. Garrett was tired, sore and thought he must be out of his mind, but he finally leaned over and gently shook Libby’s shoulder.
“Libby?”
Nothing.
He shook her a little harder and said her name a little louder.
Still nothing. Was she unconscious again? He tried shaking both shoulders this time and practically shouted her name. Her eyes flew open.
“What? What’s wrong?”
Garrett sat back. “I’m sorry to wake you. I need to talk to you right away.”
She tried to sit and gasped in pain as she jarred her ankle.
“Here. Let me help you.” He held her in a sitting position while propping her pillows behind her. “There. Lean back and relax.”
She did lean back and tried to hide her discomfort. She looked truly bedraggled, and it was somehow endearing to him. He gulped involuntarily as he noticed how sheer her chemise was. He could see her nipples, for God sakes. He looked at her face before she caught him looking at her breasts. She was so beat up. He was tempted to say, “How do you like the West now?” but he thought better of it. Best not to antagonize her.
“Do you want some tea or water?”
“Water please,” she croaked.
He turned to the nearby table, poured a glass of water from the flowered pitcher Carmen had left and handed it to Libby. He watched her drink it as her eyes came more into focus. He was not going to propose to an incoherent woman. If he could make himself propose at all. He never thought the word “propose” would be in his vocabulary.
When she handed him the empty cup, he flinched a little. Libby was surprised. She had never seen Garrett in anything but total, full-confidence control. He seemed almost…nervous. “What’s going on, Garrett?” she prodded. “Are you okay?”
She placed her hand on his arm to comfort him. She had practically been killed three times, and she was asking if he was okay? He took a deep breath, looked left, then right, then up at the ceiling for a rather uncomfortable amount of time. Then he looked directly into her aqua eyes. “You have one man trying to kill you and one trying to force you into an unwanted union, all because of their greed. You’ve suffered two head injuries, sprained your ankle and almost died from an infection.”
“And you were shot.”
“Yes. Edward DeJulius is in Deer Lodge and maybe your stepfather is, too. One of them hired the fellow who shot me
. And there may be more than one who have fired at us at other times.” He rubbed his shoulder unconsciously and cleared his throat. “Jackson came up with a way to keep you safe, or at least a lot safer, and I agree with him.”
“Let’s do it then,” she said, almost cheerfully.
“You don’t know what it is yet.”
“I trust you.”
“Will you marry me then? Tonight?”
She looked at him for so long he thought he must have snakes growing out of his eyes. And then she laughed. Laughed! Until she realized he wasn’t smiling, that is.
“You’re serious?”
“If we’re married, your stepfather and DeJulius have no claim on you.”
“But you don’t even like me.”
“That’s not true at all. I know I have been…”
“Mean?”
He leaned back and studied her for a moment. “I’ve had a bad…I don’t generally trust women. In my experience, they have…well, I just haven’t had a good experience. But I do admire you, Libby. I’ve never known anyone like you.”
“You do?”
“You’re smart and hardworking…when you work…and you don’t put on airs. You’re brave and mighty resourceful. And beautiful, of course.”
He thinks I’m beautiful?
She was about to agree to the marriage—it was infinitely better than what Elias had arranged—when Garrett threw a wrench into the works.
“It can be a marriage of convenience, of course. Once the other men are out of the picture for good, you could get an annulment.” He coughed. “Unless the union has been consummated, that is. I don’t want your dowry.”
She waited, but he didn’t go on.
She sighed. “Well, if that isn’t the most romantic proposal I’ve ever heard.”
“I’m trying to save your life.”
She looked at her hands for some reason, as if she would find the answer there. She was in a bind, that was true, but she still would have said no if it were anyone but Garrett. She wouldn’t tell him, but he was her hero in so many ways. She realized he had issues with women and could throw an insult out better than anyone she knew, and yet she never had been one to dodge a challenge. She wet her lips with her tongue, momentarily mesmerizing him. Then she looked him right in the eye. “All right.”
