His eyebrows lifted. “Is that a fact?”
“It is. Would you care for a cup of coffee before you ride back to town? It’s probably not too warm, but we always keep a pot on the coals.”
“No, thank you, but I would like a cup of water, if you don’t mind. I’ve lived in both the Oklahoma and Indian Territories, and you’d think I’d be used to the heat by now.”
“Early September is almost always hot, even this time of night, but give it another month, and things will start to cool down.” She placed the lantern on a tree stump. “Excuse me while I get your water.” She hurried into her tent, checked on the children, and dipped out another cup of water.
Outside, the light from the lantern created a warm glow, illuminating the doctor. Insects buzzed, and crickets and tree frogs serenaded them from the darkness outside the ring of light. Sarah handed the doctor the tin cup. “Thank you for bringing Jack home. I was worried about him. It’s not like him to ride out at twilight, but I’m sure he had his reasons.” His mind had been on Cora, she was certain of it, but it wasn’t her place to tell the doctor that bit of personal information.
He downed the water and handed the cup back. “If you’ll show me where to put your brother’s horse, I’ll tend to him.”
“I can do it. I’m sure you need to be on your way.”
“I don’t mind.” He walked around to the back of the wagon and untied Jack’s gelding. “Where does he go?”
“We just hobble them in a grassy patch since we don’t have a corral built yet.” They walked a short ways from the tent, and Dottie nickered to her. “This is fine. I can move him in the morning.” She set the lantern down and found the leather ties in Jack’s saddlebags. While the doctor removed the saddle and bridle, she hobbled the gelding. She patted his neck then picked up the bridle and lantern while Dr. Worth lugged the saddle and pad to Jack’s tent.
“A smart man would have removed the saddle before taking the horse out to pasture.”
Sarah smiled. “I suspect you’re a smart man or you wouldn’t be a doctor. I should have thought to take off the saddle, but this hasn’t exactly been an ordinary evening.”
“No, it hasn’t. But I sure don’t mind the company.”
Sarah shot a quick glance at Dr. Worth. She certainly had misjudged him. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that you brought Jack home instead of doing the easy thing and keeping him overnight at your office. I doubt I’d have slept a wink, not knowing where he was. And what would I have told Cody in the morning?”
“Cody?”
“He’s Jack’s son.”
“Oh, that must have been the young boy I saw last time I was here.”
“Yes.” Sarah held back the tent flap so the doctor could deposit the tack in the tent.
“Thank you, again.” She cleared her throat. “How much do I owe you for Jack’s care?”
“Your brother already took care of that. I’ll come back by tomorrow to see how he’s faring.”
“Can you tell me why he kept holding his stomach?”
“It’s badly bruised, most likely as result of someone’s fist pummeling him over and over.”
Sarah gasped. “Poor Jack.”
“You might want to reserve your sympathy, Miss Worley, until you learn the full truth of what happened.”
Once again, Sarah stiffened. “No need for that. I know Jack. He’s not a fighter.”
Dr. Worth offered a sad smile in the flickering light of the lantern. “I hope, for your sake, you’re right. Good evening.” He tipped his hat and stepped up into his buggy.
She watched him go, both grateful to him and annoyed with him. But then, he didn’t know Jack as she did. She smiled in the dark. He’d probably be coming out in the near future to apologize again.
Chapter 16
Carson guided his buggy toward town—at least he hoped he was headed in the right direction. He glanced at the rising moon on his left, making sure it stayed on the same side of the buggy. Thankfully, Sarah lived close to Anadarko. He should see some lights from town any minute.
As the buggy jostled across the barren land, his thoughts turned back to Sarah. His strong attraction to her surprised him, especially after their initial meeting. He’d been wrong that day and had let his prejudice overrule his normal compassion, but then he did think that she and Jack were not caring for Claire as they should be.
He smiled, remembering the stubborn tilt of Sarah’s chin when she was angered and how her dark eyes sparked, even in just the light of the lantern. And the sight of her hair down, flowing clear to her waist like a dark velvet cape, had made his mouth go dry. He still thought she had no business living on the prairie, especially if her brother was going to leave her at night and get into fights. But Sarah was stubborn and determined.
He realized that his grip on the reins had tightened, and he forced himself to relax. That stubbornness he first despised would probably be the very thing that would help her make a home on her land. That was, if some unsavory man didn’t take advantage of her one night while Jack was off gallivanting. The day Carson apologized for how he had misjudged Jack and his sister at their initial meeting, Jack had seemed understanding and forgiving. Was he doing the same thing again—misjudging Jack when he didn’t know the whole story?
As he drove into town, he thought about Sarah and the children out there alone in nothing but a tent. He didn’t like how unprotected they were with Jack passed out thanks to the laudanum Carson had given him for the pain. When he’d visited Sarah’s previously, the family working on the barn had made camp near the river, but he hadn’t seen or heard them tonight. Had they finished the house and left? It had been too dark to tell. But if the house was completed, why was Sarah still sleeping in the tent?
He slowed the horse as he pulled up in front of his office. Instead of driving around to the barn, he stopped. Tapping the seat, he thought over the plan that had taken root in his mind. He didn’t like the idea of going into his house and sleeping in his bed when he was so edgy. There was only one thing he knew to do, so he set the brake, hopped down, and unlocked his office. He quickly penned a note concerning his whereabouts, tacked it to the front door, and locked it. He hurried upstairs, grabbed his quilt and pillow, and drove back to Sarah’s.
After tending to his horse, he tossed his quilt down a proper distance from the tents and sat down, leaning against a tree. His rifle rested in his lap. No one would bother Sarah—or the children—now. He yawned. All was quiet except for the normal nighttime sounds. Before long, his eyelids felt as if they had weights on them. His mind blurred, and he caught himself dozing. Sitting up straighter, he concentrated his thoughts on the pretty woman who slept not far from him—surely that would keep him awake.
Sarah’s bed shook as if she were experiencing an earthquake.
“Wake up! Sarah! Didn’t you hear me say there’s a man sleeping outside?” On his knees, Cody bounced beside her on the bed. “C’mon, Sarah. Wake up.”
A man? Outside? She bolted upright. Had Jack awakened and stumbled out of his tent and fallen?
Cody tugged on her hand. “Come and see.”
Sarah glanced at Claire’s pallet. The girl was sitting up, gnawing on a bread crust. She held it out, grinning, and rattled off a string of jabber. “Where did Claire get that bread?”
“I got it from Miss Zelma. You weren’t awake yet, so I took care of Claire.”
Sarah smiled and mussed his hair. “Could you watch her a bit longer while I check on the stranger?”
Cody nodded and dropped down in front of Claire.
Sarah glanced down at the dress she’d slept in, in case she needed to tend Jack, and now it was hopelessly wrinkled. She couldn’t change with Cody there, so she peered out the tent flap. Claire whimpered. She wanted to pick her up, but she needed to see who was out there first. Sure enough, she could see the man Cody was talking about, near a tree. He looked as if he’d slumped over now. Past the man, an empty buggy sat.
She grabbed her satchel, carried it outside, and then removed her gun. She didn’t want Cody to know where she kept it. Claire started fussing, and she could hear Cody sweet-talking her. She glanced down the hill to see where the Peterson men were, but none were in view.
Sarah crept over to the man. As she drew near, her heart beat faster. Suddenly she stopped as recognition dawned. Dr. Worth? What was he doing here? She stopped beside him and couldn’t help staring for a moment. Since she’d been grown, she’d never seen a man sleeping before, except for Jack when he’d curled up in his bed last night. Dr. Worth’s nut-brown hair was mussed, and his dark lashes fanned his tanned cheeks. His jaw was shadowed with whiskers. With his wire-framed glasses off and his body so relaxed, he looked less intimidating. She swallowed hard as she realized the inappropriateness of what she was doing. She bent down and shook his shoulder. “Wake up, Doctor.”
He mumbled something she couldn’t understand then rolled over onto his right side. Then he suddenly lurched to his feet and spun around, his hand forking his hair away from his eyes. Sarah jumped back and instinctively lifted the gun. As if unsure of what he was seeing, Dr. Worth bent down and grabbed his jacket then fished his glasses from a pocket and put them on. His gaze dropped to the gun, and then a charming grin lifted his lips. “Do you plan to shoot me, Miss Worley?”
“What? Um … no.” She lowered her arm. “Why are you here?”
“To protect you and the children, of course.” He grimaced and bent his body to one side as if stretching his muscles.
“You fell asleep on the job.”
“Sarah! You all right?” She glanced over her shoulder and saw Zelma and the twins hurrying toward her.
“I’m fine.”
Dr. Worth cleared his throat. “Are those the people who are building your house?”
“Yes. I told you I wasn’t alone.”
“But I thought … Well, I didn’t see them last night, so I figured they’d left.”
Zelma breathed heavily as she drew to a stop next to Sarah. “Cody said—a stranger was—sleepin’ up here.”
“He’s not a stranger. Jack got roughed up last night when he went into town, and the doctor was kind enough to bring him home.”
“And he stayed?” Zeke eyed the doctor like a man would a rabid coyote, his twin brother doing the same.
Sarah searched her mind for a reasonable reply. “Um … well, Jack was in pretty bad shape. What if he needed the doctor and he wasn’t here?”
Zach scratched his whiskery face. “That does make sense. Sarah would’ve had to leave them young’uns and ride to town in the dark if Jack had needed the doctor.”
“Or she could’ve come and got Ma. She knows as much as a doctor.” Zeke eyed his brother.
Zelma looped an arm through each of her sons. “C’mon, you two. Things are fine here, and I’ve got breakfast halfway done. I need to get back to it. Sarah, bring the doctor over to eat. It’s the least we can do for ‘im.”
Zelma almost forcibly tugged her sons toward her camp. They didn’t look as willing to go as she did. Sarah was grateful for their concern but glad they had gone. She glanced down at her toes sticking out from beneath the hem of her skirt. She must look a fright. She hadn’t fixed her hair or put on stockings and shoes. Feeling self-conscious, she looked at the doctor. “Thank you for watching over us, Dr. Worth. You’re welcome to stay for breakfast if you like, but I need to return to my tent for a few minutes.”
“I’ll check on Mr. Jensen and then be on my way. I do appreciate the offer, though.”
Sarah spun around, eager to get away from the confusing man. Why had he felt the need to protect them? Because he’d given Jack medicine that would make him sleep all night? It was a kind thing to do, although unnecessary. Still, his sacrifice of a decent night’s sleep disarmed her. Would he do that for any of his patient’s families? She doubted it, so why do it for her? Was it penitence because of how he’d treated her the first time they met?
Cody stepped out of the tent, lugging Claire. The girl grinned and waved, jumping so hard he almost dropped her. Sarah took Claire and gave her a hug then patted Cody on the head. “Come back in my tent. I need to tell you something.”
He looked up at her and nodded.
Sarah sat on her cot and placed Claire next to her. She motioned Cody to come to her then took his hands. His thin eyebrows dipped together in concern. “I need to tell you that your pa got hurt last night.”
His blue eyes, so much like his father’s, widened. “How bad is he hurt?”
“I suspect it will look worse than it actually is.” At least she hoped that was the truth. “He’ll probably be sore for several days and move slower than normal. The best thing we can do is let him rest.”
“And pray for him.”
She smiled. “Yes. That’s true.”
“Can we do it now?”
Sarah nodded, took hold of Cody’s hand, and closed her eyes. “Father, we ask you to heal Jack’s wounds and help him feel better quickly.” And help him tell me the truth about what happened. Don’t let him get drawn back into the life he once had.
“Amen!” Cody said. “Can I see Pa now?”
“The doctor is with him right now. I need to finish dressing, and then we’ll go see if he feels like eating some breakfast.”
“Can I help get it?”
She tugged the sweet boy into her arms. “Of course, you can. That would make your father happy.”
Cody hugged her back. “I love you, Sarah.”
Her insides warmed like hot syrup. She’d missed the hugs she frequently received from Lara’s children. “I love you, too.” She placed a kiss on his cheek then set him back. “Now, run outside for a bit.”
“You want me to take Claire?”
The girl bounced at the mention of her name.
“Thank you, but I think she’ll be fine here.”
“Pa likes pancakes—and coffee. I think I’ll go see what Miss Zelma’s making for breakfast.”
“That’s a good idea.”
The eager boy rushed from the tent, and she could hear him running. She hoped seeing his pa so beat up wouldn’t upset him too much. As she changed Claire’s diaper and gown, she wondered again at Dr. Worth’s actions. Why would he feel the need to come back and protect her? Did he think she was incapable of protecting the children and herself? Or was there more to the situation than she was seeing?
As Luke waited for the railroad attendant to open the stock car so that he could retrieve Golden Boy, he studied the town. Much had changed in the three weeks that he’d been gone. The depot had been finished, and buildings in all stages of construction filled his view. Tents still dotted the area, but it was looking more and more like a town. He patted the pocket that held the telegram informing him that the lot he wanted was for sale.
Golden Boy whinnied, and Luke started forward as the attendant led the gelding down the ramp. The horse spied him and nickered, trotting forward. Luke handed over his claim ticket.
The porter, a brawny man about Luke’s age, nodded and pocketed the ticket. “What do you want to do with that big trunk you had shipped, Mr. McNeil?”
“I’ll need a wagon to haul it. Can you store it in the depot until I make arrangements?”
“Yes, sir. Just hang on to your other claim ticket.”
“I appreciate that.” Luke checked the cinch on his saddle and mounted. He headed for Third Street to find Mr. Brownlee’s store and pay him for the lot. His gut tingled. Before long, he’d be in business.
He tipped his hat at a couple of women walking past. His herd of horses had fared well at Gabe’s, and the several he’d broken in during his three-week stay would only need a bit more work before he could sell them as green-broke mounts.
He reined his horse to a halt at Brownlee’s, slapped his reins over the hitching post, and then strode inside the new shoe store. The familiar scent of leather greeted him. Boots lined the whole wall to his left, with some fancier dress s
hoes on racks in the back. A man assisting a seated gentleman in a suit looked his way and smiled. “I’ll be right with you, sir.”
“No rush. I’ll just have a look at your boots. Never know when a man might need a new pair.” Like for a wedding. All he needed was a wife. He picked up a dark brown boot, admiring the fancy stitching on the shaft. He looked at several more before the customer left without making a purchase. The clerk walked up to him.
He glanced down at Luke’s worn Justins. “I’d say you’re about a size eleven. I like a man who cares for his boots.” He held out his hand. “Herbert Brownlee at your service.”
Luke shook the man’s hand. “Luke McNeil. Seems to me you’d prefer men who didn’t take good care of their Justins. That way you’d have more business.”
“I suppose that’s one way to look at it. Your name sounds familiar.” Mr. Brownlee rubbed his clean-shaven jaw, and then his eyes brightened. “Say, aren’t you the fellow buying the lot next door?”
Luke smiled. “That I am. Got the money in my pocket. You got the deed?”
“Yes, sir. It was a shame my brother decided not to stay. That’s a nice corner lot he had. If the workers hadn’t already started on my building, I would have traded him. Clyde couldn’t handle the Oklahoma heat. Went back to Wisconsin, he did.” Mr. Brownlee walked around the shiny wooden counter and pulled an official-looking paper out from under it. “Just pay me the money and sign on this line, and you’re in business, Mr. McNeil.”
It took less than a minute to conduct their business. Luke grinned the whole time. He had achieved one of his longtime dreams. He was a landowner. Albeit, it wasn’t the ranch he’d thought he’d own, but he would still be working with horses—and running a livery would leave him more time to pursue the woman he loved. Not to mention, the town lot cost much less than what he’d sold his homestead for, so he’d made a nice profit.
He left the store whistling a jaunty tune and more than a little glad Mr. Brownlee hadn’t asked him what kind of business he planned to start. The man might not like being so close to a livery, especially during the heat of summer.
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