by Kit Morgan
Lucas, who couldn’t have been any older than twenty, nodded from his prone position. “Ya bet, sir!”
“Good.” Lucius mounted up, and he and Emma were off, taking a different branch of the trail. They were going to have to get as much distance between them and the Mattson Gang as they could before sundown and, light permitting, well into the night.
After they’d traveled what Lucius felt was a safe distance, he stopped. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just … scared.”
He smiled. “Not so scared you couldn’t climb a tree.”
She smiled weakly back. “No, but I had to break my promise.”
“Promise?”
“To Mrs. White, that I’d stop climbing trees. But I don’t think she’ll mind.”
“I don’t mind. That was a brave thing you did back there. Good thinking.”
“It was all I could come up with.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“Only because the good Lord is watching over us,” she said in all seriousness.
The horses were side by side. Lucius reached over and cupped her face with his hand. “He certainly is. Now let’s keep going.” He gave his horse a kick and they were moving again.
What he really wanted to do was pull her onto his horse, hold her, kiss her … but that was dangerous in more ways than one. He’d never felt such icy fear in his life. If something had happened to Emma, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. What was her brother going to think when she told him? After all, his sister had saved the day, not him.
He shook his head in resignation. The sooner he delivered her, the better.
They rode in silence for the next hour, Lucius glancing over his shoulder at Emma to make sure she kept up. He was in a hurry to get as close as he could to Cutter’s Creek, and as far away as he could from the Mattsons. They might be imbeciles, but they had their moments.
He wondered who this Cletus Higgs was. Probably an up-and-coming bounty hunter trying to eliminate some of the competition. He’d find out the hard way that competition had nothing to do with it – skill did. Likely Mr. Higgs, whoever he was, would get himself shot soon – probably by the Mattsons.
He pushed the thoughts aside and concentrated on the trail ahead, and what he would do once they got to Cutter’s Creek. He’d have to make sure he got Emma to her brother in one piece, collect the other half of his fee and head out of town as fast as he could. Well, and get that blasted annulment … provided he really wanted it. He had a sneaking feeling that Emma didn’t. At this point, he wasn’t sure he did either.
Lucius, you idiot, he thought. You would have to go and fall in love.
15
Cutter’s Creek, four long days later …
“What’s for supper?” Jack Carlson asked his wife.
Willow went to the chair he was sitting in, bent down and kissed him on the cheek. “Pot roast. I hope you’re hungry.”
“What I am is worried. I was hoping to receive word on Mr. Judrow’s progress. Has he found Emma? Are they on their way? We know nothing.”
“We know he made it as far as Clear Creek. Besides, if he did send word, he’d probably get here before it did.”
Jack smiled. “True. The route he showed Howard and told me about before he left cut a straight path between here and where he was heading. Rough going, but still the shortest way.”
She nodded, then caught herself – he couldn’t see her nod, after all – and said, “That makes sense.” Neither of them knew what the bounty hunter would find when he caught up to Jack’s sister, if he caught up to her at all.
A heavy knock sounded at the door. “I’ll get it,” Jack’s cousin, the Rev. Howard Latsch, called from down the hall.
Footsteps followed and Jack tilted his head toward the sound. “Thank you, cousin!”
“You’re welcome,” Howard said as he trotted past the parlor to the front door and opened it. “Lord have mercy!”
Jack sat up. “What is it?”
Willow gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll go see.” She went to the front hall to see what Howard was gawking at, and … “Merciful heavens!”
“What is it?” Jack called from the parlor.
Howard’s wife Mary was next to head to the door. “What’s going … oh my goodness!”
“Oh for the love of Pete!” Jack called. “Will someone tell me what’s happening?!”
Everyone backed up to let a bedraggled Lucius Judrow into the house. Next to him –supporting him – was a pretty young woman. “He’s sick and needs a doctor,” she rasped.
Willow gasped again. “Emma?”
“Yes. Please help him.”
Willow and Mary nodded. “Howard, help us get him upstairs,” Mary said. “Emma, your brother is in the parlor.”
Howard took Emma’s place, putting one of Lucius’ arms around his shoulder. Willow did the same on the other side, while Mary rushed up the stairs to one of the bedrooms, opened the door and checked the bed. Between the three of them, they got the big man up the stairs and into it. “He’s hotter than a stove,” Howard remarked. “I’ll go fetch the doctor!” He raced from the room.
“Let’s get some cold cloths to help bring his fever down,” Mary said. “We’ll let Howard and the doctor undress him.”
Willow nodded and stared at their patient. This was not the same man she’d met almost two months ago. No, this man was sick, weak and looked like he’d lost a lot of weight. One leg hung over the side of the bed – with a grunt, she picked it up and placed it next to the other. “There, that’s better. Oh, Mr. Judrow, what happened to you?” she asked herself more than him.
He groaned, eyes closed, but didn’t answer. Was he delirious? If his fever was high enough, he was.
“He caught a bad chill, then the fever came …”
Willow turned to see Emma standing in the doorway, staring at Mr. Judrow with tired eyes. “And what about you?” She took one of Emma’s hands. It was like ice. She then put a hand to her forehead. “Merciful heavens, you’re burning up too!”
“I had to get him here,” the girl muttered. “He was getting so sick …”
“He’s not the only one,” Willow said.
Emma pulled her hand out of Willow’s and staggered to the bed. “Lucius?”
“You need to lie down,” Willow said. “Right now.”
Emma walked around the bed and did just that – right next to Mr. Judrow.
Mary came into the room, Jack holding on to her shoulder. “Oh my goodness! What’s this?”
“What now?” Jack asked. “What’s happening?”
“You don’t want to know,” his wife shot back.
“Yes, I do – that’s why I asked. Tell me.”
Mary put a hand to her mouth and looked at Willow as if to say, are you going to tell him or should I?
“Land sakes, will one of you tell me what in tarnation is going on?”
Willow took a fortifying breath. “Your sister is lying on the bed next to Mr. Judrow.”
“What?!” Jack exploded. He headed toward the bed.
“Stop, Jack,” Emma said weakly.
Jack stopped dead and gaped in shock. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“It’s fine … Jack …,” she said, her voice drifting.
“It most certainly is not fine! Emma, get off that bed, or so help me I’ll pull you off myself!” Well, he’d have to find her first …
“It’s all right,” she repeated. “We’re married.” Her head fell onto Mr. Judrow’s chest, and she was asleep in a moment.
Jack, Willow and Mary stood speechless. But not for long. “Did I hear my sister right?” Jack whispered in shock.
Willow nodded, then replied, “I’m afraid so.”
Jack seethed. “I don’t care what she said – get her off that bed.”
He was about to go on, but the sound of the front door downstairs opening and closing caught his attention. Howard must have come back with the doctor.
Sure enough, he had, and they entered the room in a rush. “Good heavens!” Howard said.
“I see there are two patients?” the doctor asked.
“No, there’s only one as far as …” Jack started, then caught himself.
“Jack, Emma must be almost as sick as Mr. Judrow,” Willow told him. “Don’t be so hard on her.”
He clenched his jaw. “What happened out there?”
“We’ll find out when they’re better,” Mary said. “Howard, help me get Jack’s sister into … oh dear. Where are we going to put her?”
“Our room,” Jack said. “Willow and I will make do.”
“Very well, then,” Mary agreed. “Help me get her to Jack and Willow’s room.”
Howard complied, scooping the young woman into his arms and following his wife out of the room and down the hall.
The town doctor began to examine Mr. Judrow. “Well, he’s got a high fever.” He turned to Jack and Willow. “I suggest you leave the room, Mrs. Carlson.”
She nodded in understanding. “Of course. Jack, are you coming?”
“In a moment,” he said. “I want to ask the doc here a few questions.”
“I’ll check and see if Mary needs any help with your sister.”
He turned toward her voice. “How does she look?”
Willow paused. She hadn’t paid much attention to the poor girl until she’d collapsed next to Mr. Judrow. “Weary,” she finally said, then left.
When she entered her own room, it was to find Mary covering Emma with a quilt. “She’s burning up as much as he is, poor thing.”
“We’d best fetch something to cool her down as well,” Willow said as she studied the sleeping girl. Emma had to be close to nineteen if she wasn’t already. Willow was only eighteen when she came to Cutter’s Creek a few months ago. “What do you suppose happened to them?”
Mary shook her head. “They could have been caught in a storm or some such thing. Doesn’t take much to catch a chill, even at this time of year.”
“He’s worse than she is, I think,” Willow put in.
“He looks it.” Mary headed for the door. “I’ll go downstairs and start a broth. Why don’t you bring up some cold water and cloths and see to her?”
“I’ll do that.” She looked at Mary. “I don’t think she spoke a word to Jack before coming upstairs. And it’s been a while since I’ve seen him so upset.”
“Let’s not worry about that now. Let’s concentrate on getting these two poor souls well.”
Willow nodded, but wondered. How on earth did Jack’s sister and Mr. Judrow wind up married?
Two days had passed, and Lucius Judrow was still mumbling nonsense. Jack sat at his bedside part of the day, spending the rest with Emma – when she would let him. She was getting better, talking at least, but still needed to rest per doctor’s orders.
From what he’d gathered, they’d had a run in with a gang of half-wit outlaws, who’d pursued them for the last few days. They hadn’t made any fires, and were caught in a series of thunderstorms that frequented the territory and had hit early this year. They’d had to hide out as best they could to avoid their pursuers, eating what food they had left.
To his credit, Mr. Judrow had kept them moving toward Cutter’s Creek, even when both of them took ill due to the weather and their circumstances. He’d given Emma his coat and whatever else he had to keep her warm, including his bedroll. He’d slept wet and cold with no fire to see she was kept safe and sound.
Jack listened to the bounty hunter’s ragged breathing, got up and, using the wall as a guide, left the spare bedroom to go see Emma. When he got there he knocked on the open door, stilling the voices within.
“Jack,” Willow said. “I was wondering where you’d gotten to.”
“Down the hall.” He stepped into the room, his face turned toward her voice. He waited as Willow came to him, took his hand and led him to the chair next to his sister’s bed. He sat. “Emma …”
“Jack,” she said, her voice even.
“How are you feeling today?”
“Better.”
Willow cleared her throat. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone and go fix some lunch.”
“Thank you,” Jack said. He waited until he heard her leave then turned toward the bed. “How are you, Emma, really?”
He listened as she ran her hands over the quilt, a nervous habit of hers. “Fine.”
He adjusted himself in the chair. “I know you had a rough time out there. You must have been very frightened.”
“I … well, wouldn’t you be?”
“Of course, especially now.”
“Because you’re … um …”
“… blind, yes.”
“What if you weren’t?”
He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “A group of outlaws isn’t the same as facing an opposing army. But yes, I’d have been cautious. However, if you were there, I’d have been downright terrified.”
There was a rustle of sheets and quilts as she changed positions. “You, afraid? Why? I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.” There was a pinch of sarcasm in her voice.
“I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you. That’s what would frighten me.” Silence. Jack wondered if she’d stopped breathing. “I love you, Emma. It’s just us now. Mother and Father are gone, our other kin act like strangers. Thank the Lord for Howard and Mary.”
“And Willow?” she asked, her voice softer.
He smiled. “Especially Willow. I don’t know what I’d do without her. She’s been a true blessing in my life. An answer to prayer, really.”
She sighed wearily. “You believe the Lord sent her to you?”
“I know he did.”
She went silent again for a few moments then said, “I prayed most of the way here.”
“You did? For what?”
“That … you’d changed.”
His face fell. “Changed?”
“You and Father were always so hard on me, Jack. Father mostly, but … you always agreed with him.”
“He was trying to do what was best for you, Emma. I wanted the best for you too.”
“He bullied me.”
“He did nothing of the kind,” he said, more firmly than he’d needed to, even to his own ears.
“You weren’t there at his worst. You’d already left to fight.”
Jack bit his lower lip in thought. He’d give anything to be able to see her, look her in the eye. “He loved us.”
“He …”
“What, Emma? He what?”
A long sigh. “I think he loved you more.”
“Nonsense.”
“Then why was he always trying to get rid of me?” Her voice had gone terse and he could only imagine the look on her face.
“Emma, Father loved both of us.”
“I don’t think so.”
“He did. He wanted you married in case something happened to him, to both of us.”
Everything went quiet again and he gave her a few moments to think.
“But why force me to marry someone I didn’t want to?” she said.
“He never forced you, Emma. Nor would he have. He was insistent, I will admit that, but he never would have forced you.”
“It didn’t seem like it to me,” she whispered.
“Is that why you married Mr. Judrow? To spite Father?”
“I already told you why I married him. To protect my reputation.”
Jack rubbed his jaw a few times. He still could barely grasp that the woman at the stage stop, this Mrs. White, had insisted they marry. Then again, maybe it wasn’t a bad thing. People were bound to talk. Problem was, they’d talk just as much about the woman’s crazy logic as the marriage itself. Who knew if Emma had come back ruined or not? He was afraid to ask.
“How is he?” Emma asked, her voice soft again.
“Mr. Judrow?”
“Who else, silly?”
Jack smiled. She soun
ded happier when she spoke of her rescuer. “He’s sleeping. He … ah … asks for you.”
“He does?”
“Uh-huh. He also talks a lot of silly nonsense.”
“I hope you don’t think I’m part of the nonsense.”
“No,” he said. “But he does mutter a lot about cookies, of all things.”
“Cookies! Oh my goodness.” She began to chuckle.
Jack straightened in his chair. That seemed to have struck a chord. “Yes. Can you elaborate on that?”
“No, no. You’d never believe me.”
“You forget that I’ve spent time with Mr. Judrow before he started his search for you. He does love his pastry.”
She laughed out loud. “Yes, he does!”
Jack hesitated before asking his next question. “Emma, are you … in love with this man?”
Dead silence. Jack waited for a minute, but she still didn’t say a word. “I see.” He drummed his fingers on his thigh a few times, then stood up. “Perhaps I’d better go speak with Mr. Judrow.”
“No!”
He sat again and faced her as best he could. “Oh? Why not?”
“Because … he …” She sniffled. “He doesn’t feel the same way about me.”
Jack unclenched his fists, having just realized he’d made them in the first place. “He doesn’t?”
“I … well … no, I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure?”
She was quiet for a moment, then said with a voice full of hurt, “Yes. I’m sure.”
Jack narrowed his sightless eyes. There was something she wasn’t telling him. Just what did happen between his sister and Mr. Judrow? It was high time he found out.
16
Lucius, sitting up in bed, waited for the doctor to finish examining him. “You’re a very lucky man, Mr. Judrow. I’ve seen stronger men than you taken down by a fever like the one you had.”
Lucius knew it wasn’t luck, but the good Lord’s mercy. “Glad to hear I’m on the mend.”
“You’ve been in this bed almost a week now. You can get out if you want, but don’t go taking off. You’re not well enough yet to leave town.”