Depending on the Doctor (Nevada Bounty Book 2)

by Margaret Madigan

  Holy Christ, that image hit me and took my breath away, and I filed it away as ‘for future reference.’

  “And now?” she asked.

  “Now I know you’re all those things, but you’re wily, too. If you’d asked me when I first met you, I would have guessed you weren’t capable of lying; or making a dishonest deal with anyone like Clyde. I’d say if you made the deal, you’d live up to it no matter what.”

  She frowned and looked away, a dark cloud passing over her features. “You’re right. I surely would have. For a long time, and until very recently, I assumed I knew the difference between right and wrong, that I could always identify it and make that choice, the right choice. I’ve always lived like that, by a strict moral code. I even thought I should make those choices for other people, especially people I loved, when I thought they were choosing wrong.”

  If Randall was anything like his father, I imagined that moral code had been drilled into her from an early age. “You don’t seem that…”

  “Uptight? Judgmental? Dogmatic?”

  “I was going to say strict. You don’t seem that strict now.”

  “I’ve lived a very sheltered life; first with my parents who dragged me around from one tent meeting to another where I was never out of their sight or away from their influence. Then Father promised me in marriage to a man who helped promote his business.”

  That information startled me. “You’re married?”

  She laughed and looked back at me. “No. Father sent me out to Carson City to meet my future husband, dowry in hand, but when the man met me at the train, it turned out he was a charlatan. He made arrangements for us to marry, took the dowry, and then abandoned me. At the alter, no less.”

  “I imagine your father wasn’t too happy about it.”

  “No, he wasn’t. In fact, he was so angry, he blamed me and when I asked him to wire me the money for train fare home, he refused.”

  “He left you stranded in Carson City? What kind of father does that?”

  “He said if I’d been prettier or sweeter or meeker, maybe the man wouldn’t have abandoned me.”

  Tears shone in her eyes, but the set of her chin said she refused to cry about the past. “Lydia, you are pretty and sweet, and any man who wants a meek woman is an idiot. I like spunky women.”

  She blushed even harder and my trousers suddenly felt far too tight.

  “Father would have disagreed.”

  “Well, your father was a fool and you’ve been better off out from under his influence, haven’t you?”

  “I have. He passed not long after that and Randall took over his ministry. He was even less interested in helping me than Father had been. I was lucky enough to find the advertisement for a teacher in Palmer, and once I was there I met Beth and she took me in. I don’t know what I would have done without her, but I still have a hard time trusting people.”

  “Understandable, when the one person you’re supposed to be able to trust betrays you.”

  “Which is what I thought about when I made that deal with Clyde. I thought, I’ve spent my whole life being honest, living by the rules, being a good girl, doing what was expected, but Clyde is the exact opposite. I don’t trust that he’ll keep his word at all. If I make him angry, he’ll just shoot me. So why should I be truthful with him? I said what I needed to in order to keep us alive and buy us time, and he thinks I’m the kind of girl who will keep her word.”

  “See? I was right. You are smart.”

  “And wily?” she asked, a proud sparkle in her eyes.

  “Yes, and definitely wily. Maybe all you needed was more experience to gain some perspective about that moral code of yours.”

  “Maybe. I suppose necessity really is the mother of invention. You never know what you’re capable of until put on the spot.”

  A whistle sounded ahead of us, as we approached a bluff. Clyde whistled in answer. There were several men up above the trail guarding the entrance to a pass.

  Pete rode up between me and Lydia, a grin on his face. “We’re home.”

  “Where’s home, exactly?” Lydia asked.

  “Hole-in-the-Wall,” he said.

  I groaned. Just what we needed was to be herded into the most remote, difficult to get into—and out of—desperado hideout in the country.

  Riding into a bandit hideout wasn’t exactly what I’d expected. The narrow, winding trail through the pass was, indeed, the perfect entrance, but when the trail opened into a secluded valley the beauty of it took my breath away. The last orange rays of the setting sun shone over the top of the canyon walls, casting long shadows over the camp. A creek rushed along, rippling shadows and light, and several cabins were scattered through the valley. As we approached a pair of them built close to one another, I tried to catalog the rest of the building and noticed a corral, a barn, and a couple of other buildings.

  We rode to the larger of the nearest cabins and dismounted. My back and hips ached from sitting in the saddle for so long, and I’d have given pretty much anything for a bath, but more than anything I really wanted to lie down somewhere and sleep. I’d begin the process of dealing with the repercussions of our situation tomorrow.

  Light filtered from the cabin windows, and when the door opened it spilled around the form of a man, onto the porch.

  “Welcome back, boys. Did you take a good haul?”

  “Yeah, Billy,” Clyde said. “We lost Ernie, though.”

  “Sorry, Lyle,” Billy said.

  Before Lyle could answer, Clyde started giving out orders, “Pete, you and Jed bed the horses; Dom, you and Lyle deal with Ernie. We’ll bury him tomorrow. Slim, help me with the money.”

  I cleared my throat to get his attention.

  “The two of you go inside. Billy, this is our new cook, and doctor. Put her in my bed and find him a place in the bunkhouse with the boys.”

  My knees about gave out on me. I wasn’t ready to pay up on my deal just yet. I would have fainted if Emmett hadn’t wrapped his arm around my waist and held me up.

  “She’s not sharing your bed,” he said. His tone didn’t invite discussion.

  “I beg to differ,” Clyde said, his tone more amusement than anything. “She made a deal.”

  “I need to sleep,” I said. “I have to be up early for breakfast.”

  Clyde said, “I don’t need you to be awake.”

  I shuddered at the prospect. In theory it had sounded like a good way to keep us both alive. Now that I faced the reality of sharing a bed with him, it made my stomach roil.

  “No,” I said, trying to sound as decisive as possible. “Not tonight.”

  He glared at me for a painfully long time before he said, “Hmpf,” then turned to the laden horses and began unloading their loot.

  When he didn’t say anything else, Emmett pressed me from behind and guided me up the steps of the porch and into the cabin.

  Billy, who’d answered the door, did indeed only have one arm, the left having been amputated below the elbow. He noticed me looking. “Lost it in the war,” he said, a grin on his boyish face.

  It didn’t miss my attention that when Emmett saw Billy’s arm, he blanched and turned away.

  “I’m Lydia,” I said. “This is Emmett.”

  “Go ahead and hang your coats there on the hooks,” Billy said. “You want some coffee? I don’t have much to eat right now except some beans. Didn’t know when to expect the men back.”

  “Yes, thank you,” I said, hanging my coat then sitting on the bench on one side of a long table. While he fetched the coffee, I surveyed the place that would be our home for a while, anyway.

  The building wasn’t all that big, but big enough to have a large stone fireplace at one end, used for cooking and heat, with the table running parallel. At the other end of the cabin were two bunks, a settee and a couple of chairs, a dresser between the bunks, and trunks at the ends. A shallow loft hid above the fireplace.

  “Clyde ain’t never shanghaied nobody before,” Billy
said, setting empty cups in front of us, then going back for the coffee pot.

  “Our choices were limited to execution or servitude,” I said, pouring the coffee. “Servitude seemed the better of the two options.”

  Billy sat across from us. “Clyde’s not too bad. He’s fair, and takes care of us. Most of us saw combat in the war, and when it was over we didn’t fit in anywhere anymore. Here we do.”

  “Not much chance we’ll fit in here,” Emmett said. He sipped his coffee and eyed Billy with distrust.

  “You’re a cook?” Billy asked me.

  “I am,” I said.

  “It’ll be a relief to turn over that duty. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind doing it, but with one hand, it’s not so easy.”

  “Will you help me? Three hands will be better than two,” I said, offering him a friendly smile. Emmett and I could use all the allies we could get here, and I sensed Billy would be a good place to start. I had a feeling Billy was sort of an unofficial good luck charm, a mascot of sorts, so having him on our side could prove useful.

  He grinned. “Of course I’ll help.”

  I took a sip of coffee, then stood with the intention of getting a look at what sort of setup I had to work with. “Those men are going to be hungry after a long ride. Do we have anything to feed them?”

  “Lydia, you’ve been riding all day, too,” Emmett said. “You don’t owe them anything. They’ve done fine this long without you, they’ll survive another night.”

  “He’s right, ma’am. There’s enough beans for now. You should get some rest.”

  I considered them both for a moment. I was very tired, and I’d have to be up early to make breakfast. “I suppose,” I said.

  Emmett stood and came around the table to take my hand in his. “Where do we sleep, Billy?”

  Billy shuffled his feet, shifting from one to the other. “Well, Clyde said Miss Lydia should sleep in his bed…”

  “And the lady said no,” Emmett said.

  Billy shot Emmett a pained look. “I know it ain’t really any of my business, but why would you let Clyde have your woman?”

  Emmett’s brows shot up in surprise. “What makes you think she’s my woman?”

  “Well,” he glanced down at our hands then back up. “The way you look at each other, and how you touch. I just thought you belonged to each other.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Did we really give off that impression? Certainly he’d been protective of me, and I appreciated that. I’d assumed it was because of what he owed Randall, but every now and then I’d catch him looking at me in a way that, as absurd as it seemed, suggested he was attracted to me. I let myself consider for just a moment what it would be like to belong to Emmett Wilder. He was handsome, and thinking about the way he’d kissed me made my lips, and other parts of me, tingle in anticipation of more. He took my breath away, made it difficult for me to think straight, and I felt like I always blushed in his presence. But beyond those confusing physical reactions, I knew he was an honorable man despite his protestations to the contrary.

  None of that mattered much, though, because if we ever got out of the Hole in the Wall, I had to go to Omaha, and Emmett would go back to his life. If we didn’t get out of Hole in the Wall, apparently I belonged to Clyde. I might be able to put him off for a while, but short of killing him, I doubted I’d be able to put him off forever.

  “It’s a complicated situation, Billy,” I said.

  Emmett looked at me, his face a study in frustration, anger, and confusion. He looked like he wanted to hit someone, or break something. Finally he said, “You’re right. She’s mine. My responsibility. She made an agreement that would keep us alive, but it’s not one I’ll allow her to keep.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have much choice,” I said, snatching my hand out of his and propping my fists on my hips.

  “There’s always a choice, you just have to find it.”

  I threw my hands up then dropped them, slapping the sides of my legs. “That’s exactly what I did. If I hadn’t, we’d both be dead right now, and you know it,” I said, tired of his judgment.

  “Maybe, but now we have a much bigger mess to fix.”

  “At least we’re here to fix it, aren’t we?”

  Billy chuckled. “You two sure fight like a couple.”

  “Ungrateful,” I grumbled under my breath, turning my back on Emmett. My skirts swished, a decisive dismissal. “Billy, where can I sleep?”

  “The two bunks on the right—top and bottom. You pick which one you want, and the doc can have the other. Unless you want to share,” he said, winking at me.

  “Ugh,” I said. “Men.” Shaking my head, I stomped over to the bottom bunk on the right, yanked the covers back and threw myself into it.

  Lydia’s rigid back didn’t invite conversation. She was tired, anyway, and talking would only lead to more animosity.

  “I’m going out back,” I said to Billy.

  He just grinned an annoyingly smug grin and held his coffee cup up in salute.

  I ignored him and grabbed my coat before heading outside. Out on the porch, the sun had finally sunk far enough that the stars were visible overhead in the dark sky. I huddled deeper into my coat. It was damn cold, and the clear night only promised more of the same.

  I’d need to get a feel for this operation quickly. I’d never let Clyde get his hands on Lydia, so I’d have to come up with some way to keep them apart while I assessed how to get hold of some supplies and horses, then create a distraction to allow us to escape.

  It was a big order, and difficult to fill. But not impossible. Now that we were there, I had to admit Lydia had a point in that it was better to be alive with the opportunity to solve the problem, rather than dead, which was a lot more permanent. Unfortunately, the worst of it wasn’t just being held captive by bandits, it was the added issue of Clyde’s lascivious intentions.

  I needed to give him a reason not to touch her.

  I headed down the steps and around the back of the cabin toward the privy, puzzling over the problem. Whatever I told him needed to be believable, so telling him she had an illness wouldn’t work because she had no symptoms to speak of.

  After I’d done my business, I headed back to the porch. I dug my icy fingers into my pockets, and looked forward to snuggling under some warm covers.

  When I rounded the front of the house, Clyde stood on the porch smoking a cigarette.

  “Evening, Doc,” Clyde said. The words were friendly, but he hadn’t given me any reason yet to trust him, so genial or not, caution seemed a good idea with him.

  “Evening,” I said, climbing the steps and giving him some distance. I headed for the door, because the last thing I wanted was to be alone with Clyde.

  “She your wife?” Clyde asked.

  I paused with my hand on the door. I didn’t think we’d given that impression of our relationship, and I sensed, given the way he watched me, that it was important how I answered. If I said yes, would he back off? Would that solve our problem, or would he just kill us as he’d originally planned? Neither of us wore a ring, and we didn’t particularly act like we were married, so I didn’t think he’d accept it if I said yes. He’d assume I grasped for an answer that would keep us both alive, and keep Lydia out of his hands.

  “No. Not yet,” I said.

  “Promised?”

  I leaned a shoulder on the rail post and shrugged the other one. “More or less.”

  He looked confused. “What’s that mean?”

  “I got her in the family way, so I planned on making things right. She insisted we travel to Omaha so I could meet her brother,” I said, making up the story as I went and unsure what the result would be, but as a salesman—and even as a doctor—I’d always been good at reading people and although Clyde was a no good outlaw, I had the impression he lived by a twisted sort of honor. Accosting a pregnant woman conceivably went against even his shady principles. But if he believed I was in love with her, he might thin
k twice and do it, just out of spite. “That’s where we were headed when you showed up.”

  His interest indicated the story had hooked him, but he wasn’t sold yet. “Why didn’t you say something earlier. You were ready to let me kill you both.”

  I snorted, “Her brother’s an evangelical minister, so I’d almost rather die than marry into that family. I suppose I hoped maybe you’d think twice about killing a woman.”

  It wouldn’t hurt to play to what few morals he had.

  He sucked a long drag on his cigarette, and looked out over the meadow and creek, illuminated by a bright full moon. Lydia’s and my future depended on my salesmanship, and Clyde’s gullibility. I hoped I’d done enough.

  He finally dropped the cigarette stub and crushed it under his boot. “Fine. I ain’t never had to force myself on a woman, anyway,” he said, and with a sly smile he added, “but since she’s expecting, and you’re likely to be here a while, we’d better get you hitched all official like. Wouldn’t want that poor babe to be a bastard, would we?”

  Aw shit. “‘Spose not.”

  “Don’t look so hang-dog. You were going to have to marry her anyway. I’ll grant you, she ain’t the prettiest thing to be saddled with, but she was good enough for you to sample already. And she ain’t the worst I’ve ever seen. So you may as well get it over with.”

  It was one thing to insinuate Lydia and I were promised, but quite another to actually marry her. On a purely theoretical level, I had no qualms about marrying Lydia. I’d be lucky to have her as my wife. But on a practical level, marrying her meant making Randall family, and I doubted he’d find that acceptable, given my past. The last thing I wanted was for Lydia to learn about what I’d done.

  I tried not to choke on my words. “May as well. How do you suggest we manage a wedding? Where are we going to find a minister out here?”

  “Dom’s Catholic. Used to be a priest, but had trouble with all the rules so he left his church.”

  “So he’s not a priest anymore?”

  “They didn’t kick him out, he just walked away. He’s still technically a priest.”