“Luckily I’m right handed.”
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have been staring.”
“Gangrene. I was shot in the finger and it spread, so they had to amputate my hand just above the wrist.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You in the war?” William asked.
“Yes. On the opposite side to you, though.” Adam grimaced. “I wished I’d stayed out of it.”
“A Yankee?”
“You’re a Yankee, Adam?” Addy’s lips trembled and the light faded from his eyes.
“It was a long time ago, pardner, it’s better to forget about it.”
“How can I forget?” William said, his voice edged with bitterness.
“My husband died because of the war,” Mrs. Jamieson butted in.
“So Addy told me.” He took a mouthful of coffee and bit into the cookie. “These sure are good.”
“Thank you.”
“Ma is a fine cook.”
“I know, these are very good.” He shook his head when Mrs. Jamieson offered him another.
“Thanks for the coffee and cookie. We need to sort out this problem.”
“There wouldn’t be a problem if Dodd left us alone,” William said.
“He’s prepared to buy you out, Mrs. Jamieson.”
For a fraction of what the ranch is worth,” she shot back.
“I told you before, I’ll get him to raise the price.”
“And if we don’t accept?”
“We can worry about that when it happens. Just give me a chance to see what I can do. I’m sure we can get a result satisfactory to everyone.” He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. If they had to be driven off their land, it wouldn’t be by him. He felt lower than a pole-cat accepting their hospitality while knowing he was working for a man who wanted to swindle them.
Adam stood. “I’ll mosey along now.
“Can’t you stay longer, Adam?”
“I’m sorry, pardner.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “I have to go.”
“Will you try to help us, Mr. Petrie?” There was a catch in her voice. “We could really do with some help. The townsfolk don’t care about us.”
“Probably because Frank and I fought for the Confederacy,” William said bitterly.
Adam wondered why they would fight for the South when they obviously weren’t from there, not by the way they spoke if he was any judge.
“Have we met before Mr. Petrie?” Puzzlement darkened Mrs. Jamieson’s eyes.
“I don’t think so.” Strange that she should feel they had met before because he felt the same way.
“Thanks for the coffee, Mrs. Jamieson.” He nodded at her brother before walking out the door.
Addy ran after him. “Adam.”
“Yes.” He swung around.
“Here’s another cookie, to eat on the way home in case you get hungry.”
“Thanks.” What a fine little boy he was. His mother came out onto the porch and took her son’s hand.
“Mr. Petrie has to go. We can’t hold him up.”
“Ma’am.” He touched his hat, mounted and rode away. He wasn’t looking forward to his confrontation with Dodd. What the man was trying to do was wrong. Didn’t she have enough problems with a crippled brother, a child and a ranch to run without a husband?
He hadn’t noticed before that the property had little livestock on it. She sure was a stubborn woman. A mighty pretty one, though. As he rode along he tried to work out the best approach with Dodd, who was dangerous. If he didn’t handle this right, he could end up with a bullet in the back.
Chapter Four
An hour later, Adam rode down the main street of Hopeful. A couple of cowboys lounged outside the saloon where music from a tinny sounding piano being played out of tune, drifted out. Next to the saloon was a double-storied house with ornate iron work on it. The local cathouse by the looks of it. Three pretty girls stood on the 2nd floor balcony, in various stages of undress.
“Want some fun, cowboy?” called out a dark haired girl.
He lifted his hat and inclined his head. He was too busy to taste the delights they were obviously willing to bestow on him. The only pretty woman he could think about was Mrs. Emily Jamieson.
He cursed under his breath. A woman like her would want something permanent, a commitment, which he couldn’t give. What was wrong with him? He shook his head to clear it of such nonsense. A refined widow wouldn’t be interested in a drifter like him.
He dismounted outside Dodd’s office and tied Phantom to the hitching rail. The same woman was sitting at the desk. “I’m here to see Mr. Dodd.”
“Oh, Mr. Petrie, you need an appointment.”
“No I don’t.” He strode past her. As he went to push the door open he heard Dodd’s voice.
“Listen, Al, I’ve sent Adam Petrie out there to see that stubborn Jamieson woman. We should have her off the place before the week is out.”
Adam shoved the door open. “You won’t. Mrs. Jamieson said you only offered a hundred dollars for the place.”
“That’s all it’s worth.”
“Sonofabitch, Dodd, it’s worth more than that. It’s not as if you can’t afford it.”
“You were supposed to scare her off, Petrie,” the man called Al said.
“Don’t be so heartless. Give her a fair price and she’ll leave.”
“She had her chance,” Dodd snarled. “I need that place and I’m going to get it with or without your help. Either get rid of her or give me back my money.”
“I wouldn’t try it.” Adam stared Al down, until the man shifted his hand from where it was hovering near his gun.
“I’m not giving you your money back, Dodd. It cost me to ride all this way.”
“You’ll never work for me again, Petrie,” the fat man yelled.
“Do the people around town know you’re going to bring in foreign labor?” Adam regretted the words the moment they fell from his mouth. Normally, he never openly played his hand.
Al turned white and Dodd’s face suffused with angry color. He clenched his teeth so hard a piece of cheroot dropped on his shirt. “Get out, Petrie.”
“I’m going, but if you don’t do the right thing by that widow woman, you’ll be sorry.” He was asking for a bullet in the back yet somehow couldn’t stop himself. He was so mad he could have bit himself.
Stalking outside, he mounted and rode Phantom to the livery stable and handed him over to the boy from yesterday. If ever he needed a drink it was now.
Making his way to the saloon, Adam ordered a whiskey and glanced over to where a group of men were playing cards. As he nursed his drink, trying to work out what he should do next, he noticed one of the men was cheating. It was tempting to call him out. Better not, he needed to keep a low profile here in Hopeful. He sat brooding, taking a sip of his whiskey every now and again.
I’ll leave here tomorrow. There was nothing keeping him in this town. Lamenting the loss of money from Dodd, he wondered why he hadn’t simply done the job, collected his pay and lit out. A man in his position couldn’t afford to have a conscience.
What would Emily Jamieson be up to now? She sure was an attractive woman. Her son was a fine looking boy, too.
Once he had thought about getting married and having a few kids. It wasn’t to be. Was that regret he felt? The sooner he left Hopeful the better, it was putting crazy ideas in his head, making him think things he shouldn’t be thinking. Like how pretty Emily Jamieson was.
He was still convinced they had met somewhere before. Maybe she just reminded him of someone he’d seen, but where? He didn’t really know any respectable women. How could he in his line of work? Saloon girls and fallen doves were the only women he associated with.
It was tempting to get drunk, but a clear head was needed as he had worn out his welcome here, and the sooner he left the better.
He strode over to the Talk and Fork. A nice beef steak should put him in a better mood. The woman from last night welcome
d him with a smile.
“The same table?”
“Yes, and the same meal as last night.”
“I’m Loretta Miller.”
“You run this place by yourself?” He wasn’t in the mood for idle chatter but didn’t want to offend.
“My daughter Abigail helps me.”
“A nice family run place then.”
“Yes. I best be off to get your order.”
Next morning after breakfast Adam decided to ride out and see Emily Jamieson before he left town for good. He wanted to tell her he had tried to get extra money out of Bryson Dodd, but had failed. “I don’t know why I’m doing this, Phantom. Well, I do. I feel sorry for them.”
He would warn them to be careful, that was the right thing to do, then he would ride to, well he wasn’t sure exactly where. Maybe Denver. A couple of wealthy acquaintances lived there and they always had jobs needing his skill with a gun.
There was a real chill in the air and he was glad of his warm sheep skin coat. He didn’t know why he felt so edgy. Phantom was skittish also. Was he being followed? The hair on the back of his neck suddenly prickled.
A shot rang out, followed almost immediately by a searing pain in the side of his chest. It was so excruciating he cried out. Phantom took off and Adam could do nothing except hold on. Someone had ambushed him.
Through blurring vision he saw the canyon walls, which somehow seemed to be closing in on him. He heard the pounding of hooves, or maybe it was his head. He couldn’t hang on much longer. Gritting his teeth he fought to stay mounted. He was weakening. The landscape see-sawed before his eyes. Blackness engulfed him.
“Ma, Ma,” Addy’s frantic yells had Emily dashing out on to the porch. If something happened to Addy life wouldn’t be worth living. It wasn’t her son who was in trouble, but Adam Petrie’s grey horse. It was sweat stained and quivering. Was that blood on the saddle horn?
Addy was trying to grab the reins on the agitated horse. “Leave him be, he might kick you. I’ll get them. You run and get Uncle Will.
After Addy dashed off, Emily carefully made her way to the horse. “Easy boy. Where’s your master? Where’s Adam?” She spoke softly, almost crooning so as not to spook the animal any more than what he already was. Putting out her hand and touching the saddle horn, she felt the stickiness of blood. Her heart rose up in her breast. Something bad had happened. She didn’t doubt it for a moment.
Will limped out on to the porch. “What’s wrong? What’s Petrie’s horse doing here?”
“I don’t know. There’s blood on the saddle. Do you think he’s been shot?”
Going over to the horse, Will said. “Easy boy.” He took the reins from Emily and checked the pommel. “It is blood all right, and a lot of it. See, it’s all over the front of the saddle, not to mention the horse’s neck. Petrie’s been shot up bad.”
“What can we do?” She wrung her hands.
“He’s a gunslinger, it had to happen sometime.”
“Don’t be so callous,” she said. “He promised to speak to Dodd for us.”
“You think he did? It might have just been talk.” His mouth twisted with derision. “Why would he care about us?”
“We have to find him,” Addy broke in on the conversation. “He might be hurt.”
“More likely dead,” Will muttered.
“Dougie can find him. He’s a blood hound.”
“Look, in the name of humanity we have to try and find him. If someone did ambush him, it would be in the canyon,” Emily said, wondering why she wanted to help this man. What was there about him that had her warming toward him, when in reality she should have disliked him for what he was? It was his eyes, there was something in them that made her want to like him.
“That would be the best place to start looking. If he’s bleeding badly, he wouldn’t have got far on foot,” Will said. “Addy, help me saddle up, and I’ll go take a look.”
“No, I’ll go.”
“It’s too dangerous for a woman. What if they’re still around looking for him?”
“At least I’ve got…”
“Two hands he went on bitterly.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” She touched her brother’s arm. “I’ll take the wagon, then if I do find him I can bring him here.”
“Maybe we should all go. Addy can go up with you, and I’ll ride on ahead.”
“Dougie too, he’ll be able to sniff Mr. Petrie out.”
“All right, Dougie can come.”
She didn’t have time to argue, and maybe the dog would be of some help. “You go inside and get Frank’s Winchester, Will, while I hitch up the wagon. There’s a box of bullets in the kitchen dresser. And maybe bring your gun as well.”
Why couldn’t people just leave them alone? Their little ranch wouldn’t be of much use to a man like Dodd. She couldn’t understand why he even wanted it.
She hurried around to the paddock behind the barn and caught Flo, a docile lazy mare who pulled the small wagon, and led her into the barn. She had just finished hitching the mare up and was getting ready to catch and saddle her brother’s horse, when he and Addy came up to her. Will carried his own and Frank’s Winchester. She detested guns, nonetheless, knew how to shoot one.
“I bought some old linen, for bandages, just in case.” Addy helped his uncle saddle up. Because he had a stump he was able to use the arm to a certain extent. She felt like crying watching her once strong brother struggling to perform tasks he would have once done so easily.
The dog sat in the wagon with them, giving excited little woofs as they set off, heading toward the canyon. What would they find there? She didn’t want Addy to see anything gruesome, he was too young, but she didn’t want to leave him on his own, either.
The fence gate was closed. Addy leapt down to open it. The grey horse must have been so terrified he had jumped over it. She glanced around nervously. Silence reigned as they entered the canyon.
“Find Mr. Petrie,” Addy yelled and the dog jumped down and took off barking loudly. He was only a smallish dog, of very mixed parentage although devoted to Addy. The child had few pleasures living out here with no other children to play with.
Addy took off running and she called him back. “Let your uncle and Dougie search.” What if the gunslinger was dead? She didn’t want her son to see that. She wrung her hands in agitation as she waited. What if the gunman was alive, but too badly wounded for her to save? How many men had she tended to who were in that state in a makeshift Confederate hospital during the war? She shuddered just thinking about it.
Addy rushed back. “We found him. Dougie found him. Uncle Will said to bring the wagon. Quick.”
Flo moved as fast as she normally did, which was slow. Emily clicked her tongue and flapped the reins and the horse picked up her pace – a little. She wanted to scream at the animal to go faster, which wouldn’t do any good. The mare was as stubborn as a mule.
After rounding a corner, and at a point where the canyon widened out, Emily saw her brother’s horse. Will was kneeling beside a man. It was Adam Petrie, she recognized his hat which had blown off and lay on the ground nearby.
“Is he all right?” she shouted, grabbing up the strips of linen before stepping down from the wagon.
“He’s alive, doesn’t look very good to me, though. He’s been shot through the chest and the bullet must have just missed his heart.”
“Let me see.” Emily knelt down and nausea rose in her throat. The front of the wounded man’s shirt was soaked in blood and he was still bleeding. Dougie tried to lick his face. “Good boy, now you go and stay with Addy.”
All she could do now was tightly bind the wound over his clothing and hope it would staunch the bleeding until they could get him back to the house.
“Help me get him in the wagon, Will, then ride back and put water on to boil. Um, there’s that salve I always use, get that out and....”
“I know what to get. I’ve seen you working on Frank.”
&nb
sp; “We’ll get him into the wagon. I’ll have to drive slowly and try to miss all the bumps.”
Adam Petrie was a tall man and though he was of slim build, he was so heavy, they had to half drag, half carry him the few yards to the wagon. He groaned loudly as they hoisted him up into the set.
“You’ll have to sit on the outside Addy so he won’t fall out.”
“What about Dougie?”
“We can put him in the back.”
“He’ll have to lean against you, Emily, Addy wouldn’t be strong enough to hold Petrie’s weight.”
That was true. They positioned the gunman so he slumped against her and not Addy. “Go, Will, we’ll be all right. Get everything ready. We can’t afford to waste a minute.”
“I’ll wait until you move off. I had a bit of a look around and I don’t think there’s anyone here now. They probably thought they killed him and took off. Must have been waiting in those rocks for him.”
Emily got Flo going and they moved at a pace that suited the mare – slow. “You are a lazy horse, Flo, but this time I’m glad. We have to be careful not to jerk Mr. Petrie around, so you be careful.”
Her brother soon galloped past, and she nervously glanced around. No-one seemed to be around. The wounded man was a dead weight as he slumped against her. Only sheer desperation, and the fact that she steadied herself with a hand on the wooden side of the wagon, kept her from toppling out. With Flo being so docile and eager to return to her well grassed paddock, Emily could easily drive with one hand.
When the cabin came into view, she could have screamed with relief. She pulled the wagon up as close to the porch as she could. Will came out to help, and between him, herself and Addy, they were able to drag Adam Petrie inside.
“He can have my bed,” Addy said.
“Good idea,” Will agreed. “You can hardly have him in your room, sis, and I can’t offer to give him mine.”
“You’re right. Thank you, Addy you’re very kind, and I’m sure Mr. Petrie will be grateful for it.”
If she lived to be a hundred, Emily would never know how they got him onto Addy’s bed. While she dashed out to the kitchen to prepare what she needed, Addy and Will would get him undressed.
Country Wishes Page 20