The WESTWARD Christmas BRIDES COLLECTION: 9 Historical Romances Answer the Call of the American West
Page 28
Closing her eyes, she tried to relax on the hard floor. At least the room wasn’t moving as the train had been for the past three days. Her thoughts drifted to Arizona and what life there would be like. She hadn’t wanted to leave New York permanently, but Poppa had made up his mind, and she had little choice. He was her only living relative, and she couldn’t bear being so far away from him. She wouldn’t miss the cold Northeastern winters, but how would she adapt to the hot weather? The rugged lifestyle of a territory? She was used to living in a large home in the city. She yawned and felt herself drifting off.
Beth jerked awake. She’d been dreaming of the train ride—of the constant movement. She sat up, suddenly aware that it wasn’t the train but the floor that was vibrating. What in the world!
A man near the door surged to his feet and rushed to the window. People all over the room stood. The man opened the door and stepped out. Beth rose, her heart ricocheting in her chest. What was happening? Were they experiencing an earthquake?
Lizzie and her father slept on, but Beth walked toward the door. The man hurried back inside, and Beth heard a loud explosion.
“A rider just told me the river’s flooded. That sound is the bridge washing away. Looks like we’re stuck here, folks.”
Cade Maddox pumped the bellows, heating the fire at his forge. “The repairs on your wheel should be done soon, but I don’t think you should try gettin’ home tonight. You aren’t likely to get far with all the mud out there.”
Jasper Everly stood just inside the door of Cade’s blacksmith shop, staring out at the drizzle. “Maybe so, but there ain’t a dry spot left in town, what with all them train folks stayin’ over tonight.”
“What about your daughter’s house?”
Jasper shook his head. “They don’t have no room there, not with all of her young’uns.”
“You’re welcome to stay here. Your wife and daughter can have my bed, and we can sleep in the barn. I’ve got a big pile of fresh hay on the other side of my—” The ground beneath Cade’s feet shook, and his gaze collided with Jasper’s. Cade rushed to the door and stared down the street.
“Sounds like a flash flood,” Jasper said.
A loud crack rent the air, followed by the splintering of wood. “There goes the bridge.”
Jasper’s wife, Charlotte, rushed through the grassy area between Cade’s shop and the small house next door. “What was that?”
“We think a flood took out the bridge.” Jasper scrubbed his hand across his chin.
No thinking about it. Cade knew that sound. It had happened before. “I’ve got to go see if anyone needs help.”
“Go.” Mrs. Everly swatted her hand in the air. “I’ll stay with Annie.”
Already untying his apron, Cade nodded his thanks and took off at a run toward the river. Jasper limped along behind him.
At least the town, which had been built on a hill, was safe. No danger of it flooding. The train passengers Jasper had mentioned weren’t getting across the river anytime soon with the bridge washed out. Sure was a good thing they had stopped in Advent and hadn’t tried to cross, or the whole kit and caboodle of ’em might have been washed downstream. He jogged past the few small shops, drawing closer to the roaring water.
“Help! Over here.”
Cade raced to the river’s edge, pausing to catch his breath. As his gaze adjusted to the darkness, he searched the area. Lightning flashed. The bridge was gone, washed downstream. Jasper lumbered up behind Cade, breathing hard. Lightning flashed again, and he spotted a man holding on to a long tree root and struggling to climb up the side of the slick bank. The roaring water threatened to snatch him away any second.
“Jasper, if I lower you down, can you get ahold of the man?”
“Yep. Just don’t let go.”
“Hurry! I’m slipping,” the stranger yelled over the roar of the water.
Cade wrapped his meaty hand around a cottonwood and locked wrists with Jasper. Lightning zigzagged across the dark sky, and Cade’s heart dropped. A hundred feet upstream, a downed tree headed in their direction. “Make it fast, Jasper. Trouble’s coming.”
His friend stretched out his arm, just brushing the stranger’s fingers. He tried again, reaching farther. Cade felt as if he were harnessed to two horses, each one pulling him in a different direction. He gritted his teeth and held on, stretching as far as he could. Lighting lit up the sky again. The tree had closed its distance by half and was racing toward them.
Jasper grunted. “Got him.”
Cade pulled with all his might, straining against the weight of the two men. Muscles coiled, he yanked hard, and all three men fell into a pile on the shore as the tree splashed past them. Relief made Cade weak. They’d saved the man’s life.
He worked himself out from under Jasper and stood. “Are you two all right?”
“I’m fine.” Jasper pushed himself up and swiped his muddy hands on his dirty pants.
The stranger groaned and grabbed his leg. “I—I think it’s broke.”
“I heard there was a doctor among them train folk.” Jasper scratched his beard. “Want me to go see? They’s held up in the old hat shop.”
Cade nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll bring the man.”
“My name’s Jack Garner,” the man said, holding on to his leg.
“What were you doing in the river?” Cade leaned over to examine the man’s leg, hoping for another flash of light.
“I was crossin’ upstream, headed home from a day of huntin’. Didn’t hear the water until it was too late—” Mr. Garner’s voice cracked. “Lost my horse—best mount I’ve ever had—and my mule, which was carryin’ the deer I’d downed. My wife’s gonna be frantic.”
“Sorry.” Cade exhaled a loud breath, pained over the man’s loss, but for the moment, he had to remain focused on helping the man. “This is gonna hurt.”
Mr. Garner nodded. “Go on.”
Cade lifted the man into his arms, ignoring his groans while absorbing his weight and pain. He muttered a prayer. Mr. Garner had lost a lot today. He just hoped his leg wasn’t too bad off and that he didn’t lose his life, as well.
Chapter 2
Beth had just sat back down, hoping to fall asleep quickly, when the door rattled open and a muddy man rushed in. A lady on the right side of the room groaned at the disturbance.
“There a doctor in here?”
“Over here.” Her father pushed up from his pallet and stood. He pulled his spectacles from his vest pocket and plunked them on his nose. “I’m a doctor.”
“Gotta injured man comin’ in who got caught in the flash flood.”
Her poppa grabbed his medical bag. “Beth, bring my blanket and come assist.”
“Yes, Poppa.” She tucked Lizzie’s blanket around the girl’s neck and rose, her whole body aching. She longed for sleep, but someone was hurt, and tending him was more important than rest.
A tall, thin man who’d been sleeping right below the lantern on the left stood and turned up the flame, casting flickering light across a third of the room. “I’ll move so you can have the light to see by.”
Beth smiled and nodded, but a commotion at the door drew her gaze. Her heart thudded at the sight of a huge man carrying another man as if he were nothing but a five-pound bag of sugar.
“Bring him over here.” Her father looked at her and frowned. “Beth, the blanket.”
She jumped into action, chastising herself for gawking. It was just that the man filled the whole doorway. She flipped the blanket across the floor and stepped back.
The large man laid the injured one down as gently as if he’d been carrying a child. As he stood, his gaze locked onto Beth’s. Her heart thumped again as she stared into his black eyes. She couldn’t look away as he straightened to his full height. Thick, black hair had fallen onto his forehead, and dark stubble framed his chin. The man was all muscle and brawn. He winked and then grinned.
Beth’s eyes widened, and she forced her gaze back to the injured m
an. Of all the nerve.
Mr. Brown—at least she thought that was his name—set down a bucket of water. “Thought you might have need of this.”
As her father cut away the groaning man’s pant leg, she found two clean cloths in his medical bag, wetted them, and handed them to her father. She was well aware of the big man behind her. Why did he affect her so? Did his sheer size intimidate her? Or was it his handsome, dark looks?
It made no sense, because the man was covered in mud and smelled like he’d worked all day in a barn. Yet he had helped a man in need. Or maybe he’d also been caught in the flood.
The stove door creaked open, and Beth glanced over to see the big man feeding wood into it then shutting the door. He rummaged through the pile of wood, collecting several long sticks.
A man on this side of the stove mumbled something about all the ruckus and pulled his blanket over his head.
“I’ll need you men to hold the patient down while I set his leg.”
“Nooo,” the wounded man moaned.
“Has to be done if you want to walk again.” Poppa stood and moved around to the man’s feet, while the two men who’d brought in the patient held down his shoulders.
She realized that the injured man had lost one of his boots. He was soaked to the bone. Once his leg was set, they would need to move him closer to the stove.
A loud cry arose, followed by a pop, and the deed was done. Poppa sorted through the sticks the brawny man had collected and kept two, placing them on either side of the patient’s leg. Beth handed Poppa a roll of bandages, and he began wrapping the leg while the brawny man held the sticks in place.
It touched her heart that he’d had the foresight to know they’d be needed and had found them without being asked. The man was smart as well as caring enough to help another man in need. She looked down and swallowed hard as her gaze collided with his. What was it about this man that drew her? Why … she didn’t even know his name.
Cade stared into the flame of his forge, the fire reminding him of the beautiful copper-haired woman assisting the doctor. No, not copper exactly. Maybe cinnamon. It had been hard to tell in the dim lighting of the empty store.
Who was she? The doctor’s wife? Daughter—sister?
Why couldn’t he shake her image from his mind?
“Want out, Pa.”
The tiny voice from across his blacksmith shop drew his gaze. He smiled at his daughter, who stood inside the fenced-in play area he’d made to keep her safe. “Pa has to work, sweet thang.”
Annie’s lower lip stuck out in a charming pout, and she plopped down on her blanket, hugging her rag doll. Cade blew out a sigh. He didn’t like keeping his daughter in the small pen, but she liked to wander and got into things. His greatest fear was that she’d get burnt. A blacksmith’s shop was no place for a little girl. If only Mrs. Gardner hadn’t moved away. If only Nellie hadn’t died and left him with a three-year-old to care for alone.
“You still got that young’un in that cage?” Fred Simons grinned as he entered the smithy.
Annie hopped up and reached out her arms to his friend. “Out. Pease.”
Fred chuckled. “Ain’t that the cutest thang—how she says please. Care if I pick her up for a bit?”
Cade shook his head, relieved to have someone give Annie some attention. He pulled the molten horseshoe from the fire, set it on his anvil, and slammed his hammer down, making a familiar clang.
Fred tossed Annie into the air, and she squealed her delight. He settled her in his right arm and leaned against one of the beams that supported the roof. “Did you hear there’s an agent with the Children’s Aid Society in town?”
The hammer froze in midair. Cade looked up, his heart pounding. How many times since Nellie’s death had he considered giving Annie back to the Children’s Aid Society? He placed the hammer down and dropped the horseshoe into the bucket of water near his feet. A loud hiss filled the room as steam rose.
“What’re you gonna do?” Fred pulled Annie’s hand away from his spectacles.
“Don’t you have somebody to bury—or some teeth to pull?”
His friend chuckled. “Nope. You saved that man last night, and I heard tell he’s most likely gonna make it. Good thing there was a doctor in town. Now, don’t distract me.” He tickled Annie’s belly, and she laughed. “How can you even consider doing what you’re thinkin’?”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?” Cade crossed his big arms and glared at the nosy dentist/undertaker.
“Because you’ve only mentioned it a dozen times or so. Don’t see how you could give up this darlin’ little thang.”
“I don’t want to see her get hurt. And with Mrs. Gardner gone, I don’t have anyone to watch her.”
“Maybe I could help. Business is pretty slow these days.”
While Fred had good intentions, the man was given to drink at times. Cade couldn’t risk Annie being in his care if that happened. “Thanks, but I’d rather find a woman to do that task.”
Fred snorted and rubbed his hand over his balding head. “Good luck with that. I’d like to find a woman to marry up with, but there just ain’t none ‘round here.” He set Annie back in her pen then straightened, his eyes gleaming. “Did you see that doctor’s pretty daughter? Woo-wee! She’s a beaut’.”
Cade didn’t like Fred admiring the woman, and it irritated Cade that it bothered him. She was nothing to him—and she’d be leaving as soon as the tracks were repaired and the train could be backed out of town. There’d be no going forward for a long while. Not until the bridge was replaced.
He glanced down at Annie. How many times had he contemplated returning her to an Orphan Train agent? Nellie would turn over in her grave if she knew, but she didn’t—and she didn’t have to eke out a living while caring for an active youngster. It would break his heart to give her up, but he had to consider what was best for Annie. She needed a mother, not a father who worked constantly to forget the hurt of losing his beloved wife.
Fred stretched. “Guess I’ll mosey along and see if I can catch me a glimpse of the red-haired gal.”
Cade followed him to the open door and watched the man saunter down the street. Fred was probably a good twenty years older than the doctor’s daughter, so there was little chance she’d fall for him. He kicked the door frame, frustrated that it mattered to him. Sure, the woman was pretty. And she’d been so calm and capable helping out last night with the wounded man. But she surely had loftier dreams than settling in a tiny town like Advent.
It would be nice to have a doctor though.
A shrill scream behind him nearly made his heart jump clean from his chest. He spun, his eyes aiming for the pen. Annie wasn’t there.
Her loud screams filled the smithy. He raced around his workstation. She was lying in the dirt—right beside an ax he was going to repair. Blood covered her lower left arm.
Cade snatched her up and ran to the house. He grabbed a towel off the table and wrapped the wound, all the time murmuring to Annie. “Shh … baby, it will be all right.”
She threw back her head and screamed as he held the cloth tight against the wound. She tried to pull away and pushed at his arm with her free hand. He was afraid to remove the cloth to look at the wound.
“God, show me what to do.”
The doctor!
He bolted out the door and ran down the street. People rushed out the doors of the nearest shops.
“What happened?” Arnold Peavy, owner of the small mercantile, hollered.
“Annie’s hurt.” In less than a minute, he reached the building he’d taken the wounded man to last night and charged inside. His gaze searched the room until he found the doctor’s daughter. “Where’s your father?”
She rushed forward, concern etching her face. “He rode out to a farm to check on a man whose wife was sick.”
The sight of blood had never bothered him, but seeing his daughter’s blood dripping on the floor and hearing her pain-filled wails nearly did h
im in.
The woman latched onto his arm and tugged him outside. “Sit down before you fall. I’ll get some supplies and clean the wound.”
Cade cuddled Annie while carefully holding her injured arm. “It’s all right, baby. Don’t cry.”
He wasn’t cut out for this. He could feed and clothe the girl, but he wasn’t father material. This proved it.
Beth rushed across the room to the stock of supplies her father had purchased and stared at them. She wasn’t a nurse, but she had assisted her father on a number of occasions. What would he do? She rummaged through the supplies and pulled out a roll of bandages, a bottle of carbolic acid, and some salve.
“Who’s that crying?” Lizzie stood, holding her dolly under one arm.
“A little girl got hurt. I’m going to help her.” Beth smiled, hoping to reassure her ward.
“Is there something I can do to help?” Mrs. Buchanan, one of the train passengers offered.
“I’ll need water, preferably boiled if you can locate some.”
The woman nodded. “We’ll scour the town for it.” She pivoted, a woman on a mission. “Harold! Aaron! Let’s go find water.”
The rush of feet sounded behind Beth. She stood, trying to still her trembling hands. From the looks of all the blood, the girl’s arm would need suturing—something she’d never done. Please, Lord, send Poppa back—fast.
The big man who’d brought in the injured man last night sat on the bench in front of the shop, hugging his wailing daughter. He looked so distraught. Beth was surprised at her desire to comfort him, but his daughter was her focus. She returned to his side, set her supplies down, and brushed her hand across the girl’s head. Lizzie walked around Beth and leaned against the porch railing, watching. Beth wanted to shoo her away but didn’t want to scare either child.