Lizzie and the Rebel

by Stephy Smith

  “Doc? I know I’m in the mountains, but what state am I in?” The one thing he didn’t need was the doc shedding tears that would affect his ability to concentrate on Lizzie. They could put their own war grief aside long enough to save her.

  Doc’s belly shook when he laughed. The tears faded away. “Colorado. You’re in the Rockies of Colorado. Near Mountaintown.”

  “My cousins carried me part of the way. We bought some horses after a week of walking, dragging and carrying. I tried to reason with them, but they said they knew the way. We got lost on that ruthless mountain where they died. Sad thing, they made it through the war unscathed to freeze to death on the side of a mountain.” Frank’s head reeled at the rustling in the bedroom.

  Doc passed more slush and liquid through the open window. Frank repeated his process of bathing and spreading the stinking concoction on Lizzie. Doc stood at the window to wait for a report.

  “Still the same,” Frank called out. “You better get to the barn before you freeze to death out there. I’ll call out if I need you.”

  Frank took his seat by the bed. A tune fired up in his mind, which he sang as if Lizzie could hear the words of encouragement in order to fight for life.

  At the evening report, Frank glared at Doc. “I didn’t get her sick, did I?”

  “You never made it to town, did you?”

  “No. Not that I recall. Course I don’t recall much after meeting up with my cousins, other than the mountain. All four years in the war never prepared me for the swift wrath of this mountain.”

  “I’m sure the sickness was brought by the trapper. He had been in town before it hit Lizzie. That’s why Zeke and Clem burned the trapper in the clearing. That horrid creature wreaked havoc in town. He made lots of enemies there. The people in town are a forgiving bunch, but this was one of those times forgiveness was unacceptable for the trapper.”

  A smile came to Frank’s face. “I don’t know how I would live with myself knowing I hurt Lizzie.” His voice was low and he stared at the open doorway.

  “I know.” Doc nodded in agreement. His chubby hand patted Frank’s arm.

  “Are you from around these parts?” Frank asked out of curiosity.

  “Kind of. I’m from Pueblo. I haven’t made up my mind whether I want to stay here or go back home. I like it here.”

  “Oh.” Frank shook his head and glanced to Lizzie’s door.

  “I’ve been here long enough I’ve heard about most of the town. What do you want to know?”

  “Lizzie. Why is she on this mountain alone?”

  “Trappers came through and killed her family. From what I hear, they held her and made her watch them torture and kill them,” Doc said. “How could someone do that to a child? She was only fifteen. However, she refused to leave this mountain after that. She’s a tough woman.”

  “I guess that’s why she would’ve taken on that trapper by herself. I’m thankful that wolf of hers showed up when he did.”

  “Everyone in town thought she went over the edge when she rescued that animal. This is twice now he’s saved her life. Twice she saved his.”

  “They have a special bond, respect and loyalty to one another.” Frank longed to find that kind of trust without a uniform involved. He knew he could count on the men standing beside him during the war. His doubts of finding that trust now were different. He hadn’t had a choice then.

  “If a man was to win her affections, I would say he would be a lucky man.” Doc’s eyes glistened.

  “When she sets her mind to something, it’ll get done.” Frank shook his head and laughed. “When I first woke up, she told me I was going to take a bath. We had a discussion, a short scuffle on the floor. Next thing I know, I was naked and in that tub.”

  “If she makes it out of this, you might want to just give in to her. Oh, she’ll be weak for a few days, but I have a gut instinct that won’t last long,” Doc said, adding a laugh.

  “If you decide to stay here, watch out for her, will you?”

  “Don’t you plan on staying?”

  “I think I’ve worn out my welcome. We haven’t spoken three words to each other since that night.” The words settled deep in Frank’s own mind. He didn’t like unsettled business. Especially if it was going to involve Lizzie.

  “Winter has just begun. You’ll be here quite a while longer. You’ll figure out a way to get along, or kill each other. That barn gets downright cold at night. But it’s better than being in the open.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Frank raised the corners of his lips.

  “She needs a good man to protect and help her on the ranch. She’s been taking care of it alone for about six or seven years. She needs someone to share her life with.” Doc’s words hit Frank with force.

  “Aren’t there any callers from town? The woman in there is a beauty.” He couldn’t believe his ears. Every man within miles should be beating the door down for her hand.

  “No. Most of the single men moved on. They either went to war or followed the gold miners chasing dreams of getting rich. Not many left that aren’t spoken for by one young lass or another. I had better turn in for a while. I got a gut feeling it won’t be long now before she wakes up and kicks both of us to Santa Fe.”

  Frank needed to know more. This woman’s life commenced into an intriguing story of fight and survival he was certain he would have abandoned if it had been him. Doc’s words ate at his mind. The cruelty of the trappers spurred a deeper hatred than any canyon he’d ever seen. Not that he blamed her one bit after what Doc told him.

  A future without the spirited little woman dimmed. There would come a day when she would ask him to leave, and he would have to stand up and fight for the right to stand by her side.

  He covered up with the quilt and closed his eyes, hoping the doc’s words of her coming to were true. He lay on the floor next to her bed. Time slipped away until the next morning when the knock came on the wooden shutter.

  Frank reported there had been no change other than that the red spots grew paler every day. Soon they would be gone and he hoped he would no longer have to apply the liquid that smelled of rotten feet.

  “Was her pa always a rancher?” Frank pushed to know more about Lizzie’s family. What kept her at the cabin? Was it the death of her family, or something deeper sucking the life from her? This deadly mountain, which had proved time and again how dangerous it could be. Was it the challenge of beating the mountain out of another unwarranted death? What was so special about it?

  “From what I gather, he was. Married a Cheyenne woman and settled on this mountain. Lizzie was the youngest of the brood of five kids. They were hard workers. A respectable family. The word is, her mother showed signs of being as respectable as any white woman in town proved to be. She took a lot of abuse when she first married Mr. George, but she forgave them all.”

  “Do you think Lizzie would have killed that trapper if Spirit hadn’t?”

  “Without a doubt. It wouldn’t be the first one either. They know she’s up here alone and try to take advantage of that. One I heard of tried to force his intentions; she pulled out her pistol and filled him so full of lead he would have sunk a ship. People in town said when she came in with that body, she had been bruised and beaten so bad they didn’t recognize her. He didn’t get his way with her.”

  Anger flared. Keeping his mouth clamped shut, he heard the disturbance behind him. He tried to hide the anger now stored inside him at Doc’s words. He walked to the room and peered in the door.

  Nothing much mattered now. Keeping her alive, making up for the torment Lizzie endured at the wretched hands of brutal men, became his priority. He would defend her mountain and keep her safe until his dying breath. She had a life to live. A life he could give that was far better than the one she held.

  Lizzie rested comfortably for the time being. She hadn’t had many convulsions in the last few days. Her body was lax, and Frank took a deep breath. He was thankful she couldn’t hear the conv
ersations between him and Doc. When she woke, he would let her tell him at her own leisure if she felt like it. If she didn’t, he knew enough that he no longer cared to leave the mountain.

  Frank wasn’t aware of the time his feelings had changed. Only that they had. He didn’t pity Lizzie. He just didn’t agree with the idea of another man trying to take away what rightly belonged to her.

  “I promise you, Lizzie, no one will take your land or lay another hand on you as long as I breathe.” His whisper was barely heard.

  Another week passed and the bouts faded to none. Doc would come by every few days, always expressing his hope that Lizzie would be sitting at the table eating. Frank expressed his concerns along with Doc’s.

  The wait passed slowly for Frank. He wrote several letters and then read her book until his eyes closed.

  Frank moved a chair close to Lizzie’s bed, where he slept. Stirring in the bed jarred him awake.

  “Come on, Lizzie. I just got to sleep.” Frank lazily opened his eyes to see wide eyes staring at him. She squinted down at her underwear-covered body, grabbed the bed covers, and pulled them around her chin. Her eyes searched the room.

  “What have you done, Frank Walling?” Her voice hit him cold and calculating.

  Tears filled his eyes as he jumped and moved to her side. Unashamed drops slid free down his cheeks. He reached for her and pulled her to him, hugging her tight. “You’re awake,” he said, half-laughing, half-crying. “You’re awake.”

  “Remove your hands from my body.” Her flattened palms shoved him away from her.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He threw his hands in the air. A grin sliced his face ear to ear. “Would you like something to eat? I made bacon soup. I can fix you some eggs if you would rather have them.”

  “Bacon soup sounds good. I’m starving. Now would you get out of my room?” She clutched the quilt tighter around her neck.

  With a quick glance and smile, he closed the door behind him. The look in her eyes would have called for running from the room if there would have been something within her reach to toss his way. He was thankful he’d removed the weapons of household and grooming utensils from her grasp.

  Chapter Six

  Dressed in a plain simple skirt and blouse, she walked from the room. With determination, she stomped on shaky legs that were almost too weak to carry her across the floor to the table.

  The urgent need to know what the cause of him being in her room stormed her mind. Anger swirled cold and blinding. Why he’d rearranged the furniture ate at her core. She clamped her lips in anticipation of the impending confrontation with Frank about his actions.

  This was her home. The place she swore to protect with her last breath. Home of her mother’s people, the place her family had died for. Now this man, Frank Walling, invaded her domain. Frank’s magnetism threatened to steal her heart, mind, and soul. She was having none of it.

  Wobbling to the table, she caught her breath, straightened her shoulders, and glared at him. He would more than likely have a logical explanation for doing the things he did. She wasn’t in the mood for logical. She wanted a reason to tear into him. To remove him from her peaceful existence. To be able to get her life back to normal, which she doubted would ever happen as long as he was close.

  “You have some explaining to do and little time to do it in before I fill you with lead.” She didn’t wait for his reply. Her tirade was stronger than her desire to listen to any reasons. “What made you think you could come into my house and take over like you are some kind of king or something? I should shoot you right here and now.”

  Lizzie swore she saw amusement play across Frank’s face. Confusion wracked down her spine at his delight. The fresh smell of him sent traces of heated passion running across her.

  There was no room for passion—heated or otherwise—until she found some answers. He had better come up with them quick. He was well enough by now she could toss him out in the cold.

  A knock on the window frame interrupted the conversation. Doc poked his head in the window. “How’s our patient today?”

  “See for yourself, Doc. She just woke up and is a little confused and, shall we say, grumpy.” Doc’s face stretched further in the window.

  “She made it?” Tears ran down Doc’s chubby cheeks and he started laughing. “I believe she made it.” He peered back in the window.

  Her fists clenched on her hips, Lizzie spoke through locked teeth. “One of you better start talking fast. I’m getting the gun.” She stepped toward the coat where she kept her pistol.

  “You caught the fever from that trapper. You’ve been sick a few weeks. When I found you unconscious in a fit, you had already removed your clothes. Doc slept in the barn for the first week. Then he came when he could. Lots of folks in town died and still are dying from the disease.”

  “I think I remember getting hot last night and sweating. I woke up this morning with you in my room, sleeping on the floor, and my furniture rearranged.”

  Her eyes pulled toward Frank’s sparkling gaze. Butterflies flittered in her stomach. The mere sight of him sent a flush across her cheeks. She lowered her eyelids to keep him from reading her thoughts. It was bad enough she knew what she was thinking. For him to know it would be downright dangerous.

  Just one hug from this man could turn her world upside down. She couldn’t risk her emotions, nor could she trust them to stay loyal to her.

  “He’s been in that chair for several long weeks now. Spirit came to town and stirred up a passel of folks. Some of the men chased him out of town. When they got here, they found you in need of help.” Doc wiped a leftover tear away. His voice brought her back to the present confusion.

  “You say people in town died from this fever? Who? When?” Lizzie’s heart sank for the people left to deal with the devastation of death.

  “There were six in all. More are getting sick every day.” Doc listed the dead, then the new cases he was called on to treat.

  “Can I get it again?”

  “No, or I don’t think so. You should be immune now.” Doc raised a questioning brow.

  “I can come to town and help take care of them without getting sick again?”

  This could be her salvation, to escape being near Frank. Her reason to prevent being alone with him on the cold, destructive mountain. She would be busy with the others to distract her from the need to feel his warm embrace. Her gaze fell to his lips.

  Why were his lips inviting her to touch them, to kiss him with such emotions she didn’t understand? She was grateful he hadn’t abandoned her while she was sick. The emotions ran deeper than just a simple thank you kiss placed on his clean-shaven face.

  What caused Doc to drag her back to the here and now every time her mind slipped into thinking about Frank? Did he read more in her eyes than she knew possible? She lowered her head as the flush rose to her cheeks. Did all men have the perception of reading her mind?

  “Yes. However, you need to wait at least a week. You need to regain your strength before you undertake something like caring for others. It’s a chore to take care of someone with this disease. Well, any disease, for that matter. I would love to have you and Frank both help take care of these people.”

  “Consider it done. I am so sick and tired of staying put in this cabin. A change of scenery would do me a lot of good.” Lizzie glanced at Frank.

  Doc pulled a long breath. “Frank did the most part of caring for you. I told the people in town what he did. At first, you weren’t getting better, but you weren’t getting worse. People in town were dying. They started following what Frank did all along and now most are holding their own for the time being.”

  “My ignorance saved her life?” Frank’s eyes widened.

  “No. Your natural instinct to cool her off did. You opened the window and let the fire die down. The germs escaped as the temperatures dropped. The decline in heat cooled her body along with the slush baths you gave her.”

  “You bathed me?” She leered a
t Frank. Her sweltering concern flushed her face.

  Desire and passion etched its way to her body. One more week with the man lit a fire burning in her core. How much more could she take without branding him onto her skin? Her body screamed out to him, Here I am! Her mind yelled back, Stay away!

  She tried to concentrate on the conversation. Every glance in Frank’s direction sent her mind on another goose chase. His presence and her body’s response to his touch grew more confusing.

  The problem now was him seeing her half-naked when he bathed her. How could she ever face the man again? He had seen her at her worst with no chance of seeing the real person she was. She sighed and listened to his words.

  “Not entirely. I only bathed your face, arms and lower legs. I had to do something, Lizzie. You knocked over the table and broke the lamp in your room. You thrashed around and said wild things. I was scared and didn’t know what else to do. When Spirit came in, I was afraid he would think I was hurting you. I told him you were sick and we needed a doctor. The next day, he flew in the window dodging bullets. Then I heard the men outside.”

  Lizzie ran her fingers through her tangled hair. She chewed at her bottom lip as she tried to digest Frank’s words. Doc cleared his throat.

  “I’ll be back in a few days to see how you feel. If you’re strong enough, I’ll consider you’re offer of help.” Doc rocked back. “You take care of that woman, Frank. Don’t let her push too fast. We need to make certain she’s strong so she doesn’t relapse. By all means, we don’t want to get into trouble again.” Doc walked away, a long, drawn out laugh in his wake.

  What else could have happened while she had been under this stranger’s care? His explanations sounded valid enough. Was he hiding something from her and the doc? Since when had her life turned into one question after another?

  She glanced at Frank, amazed at the ease of his walk. His birdlike whistles of sweet songs filled the cabin. Mesmerized at his happiness, she paused, her heart lightened at his comfort.