“Somebody shot at us through the door. Colby wouldn’t have been hit if he hadn’t pushed me aside to protect me.”
“Colby’s still breathing,” Jared said, “but he’s badly wounded. We’ve got to get him to the doctor as quickly as possible.”
By now the manager had come up the stairs, and one of the lodgers had come out of his room.
“We need to get him to the doctor before he bleeds to death,” Jared told them.
Getting Colby down the steps was awkward, but the pistol shots had brought people running. In seconds there were more than enough hands to carry Colby.
“What happened?”
“Who shot him?”
“Where are they? We ought to go after them.”
Logan’s only concern was doing everything possible to save Colby’s life, but the hotel manager was more than happy to tell everything he knew. In moments a small posse had formed and was headed back to the hotel. Logan was worried that, even if Bridgette was innocent, she might never get a chance to prove it.
News travels faster than the speed of galloping hooves in a small town. Before they reached Sibyl’s house, Naomi was running toward them. She lost color when she saw Colby, but she didn’t lose her head.
“Take him to my father’s house. It’s only two doors away.”
Naomi led them into the house and through to her father’s office. The doctor was already laying out implements.
“Place him on the table,” he directed as he reached for a pair of scissors. In no time, he’d cut away Colby’s shirt. Logan could tell from the slight intake of breath that Colby was in great danger of dying.
“Naomi is going to help me,” the doctor said. “The rest of you wait outside in case I need you.” With that, the doctor gave his full attention to the patient. As far as he was concerned, they had already left.
The scene that met Logan’s gaze when he entered the doctor’s parlor was the most painful he’d ever seen. Sibyl was trying to comfort a hysterically crying Esther while Kitty stood glued to her mother’s side. Naomi’s brother, Ethan, was holding his nephew Jonathan. Cassie was trying to comfort Annabelle, who was too young to understand what was going on. The Pinkerton had been delegated to take care of Little Abe. Laurie was fully occupied with her small son and the baby. Ben, Naomi’s young brother, had been trying to reassure Peter, but the boy rushed toward Logan when he came into the room, his face ashen, tears having streaked his cheeks, as he struggled not to cry.
“My papa isn’t dead.” He said it like saying it would make it true. “I know he isn’t dead.”
Logan knelt down and put his arms around the stiff, trembling body. “He’s not dead, but he’s very sick right now. Your mama and grandpapa are going to do everything they can to make him better.”
“He didn’t die in the war, and he didn’t die when the Indians shot him,” Peter said. “Mama said now that we live in Cactus Corner, nobody was going to shoot at him ever again. Why did that man do it?”
“I don’t know, but as soon as we know your papa is going to be okay, I promise I’m going to find out. Nobody is going to shoot my brother and get away with it.”
Jared had gone to his wife’s side. Jere left his Uncle Steve and climbed into his father’s lap. Steve got up and came over to Logan.
“When you go after that man, I’m going with you.”
“Thanks, but this is something I have to do alone. I brought this tragedy on this family, so I have to be the one to find the man who did it.”
“Are you sure it was a man? No one saw who fired the shots. It could have been that Bridgette woman.”
“When the manager went to see why people were shouting in Bridgette’s room, he said Wat Pfefferkorn threatened to shoot him. The man has a very bad reputation. I know Bridgette hasn’t been nice to people here, but this doesn’t sound like her.”
“Sibyl says she tried to poison you.”
“The doctor said he thought that’s what happened to Trusty, but there’s no way to know until I talk to Bridgette.”
“I don’t like her,” Peter said. “She said I was a filthy little boy, and that my papa was nothing but a money-grubber.”
“I’m sorry she said those things.”
“Papa said I wasn’t to pay any attention to her, that some people weren’t nice.” The boy started to cry. “If she killed my papa, I’m going to take his rifle and shoot her.”
“You’re much too nice a boy to do anything like that.”
“No, I’m not. Great-Aunt Mae says I’m a young hooligan. She says hooligans always end up no good.”
Logan felt a wave of tenderness for the little boy’s attempt to be brave and proud. He knew the child worshipped his father. For Peter’s sake, if no other, he prayed the doctor could find a way to save Colby.
Time passed with agonizing slowness. Each second seemed to grow into a minute, each minute into an hour. People came to the house in a steady stream, but Steve attempted to turn them away saying they didn’t know anything yet. Mae Oliver and Elsa Drummond used their kinship to Naomi to overrule the boy and took their places inside next to Sibyl and Laurie. At first the others went back home, but after a while some started to stay. They sat on the porch, stood in the yard, or gathered in the street. Before long, it seemed half the town had gathered outside the doctor’s house.
When Mae took Esther into her lap, Sibyl came over to stand with Logan and Peter. “That’s a testament to how the town feels about Colby,” she told Logan. “Your brother is the most admired and respected man in town.”
“And I may have gotten him killed.”
“You didn’t shoot him.”
“If he hadn’t gone with me, he wouldn’t have been shot.”
“From the moment we met Colby on the Santa Fe Trail, he has always been the first one to face danger. You wouldn’t have been able to make him stay behind. It simply isn’t something he could do.”
“Bridgette is in Cactus Corner because of me. That man was in that room because of Bridgette. It’s my fault that he was shot.”
“If it’s anybody’s fault, it’s Bridgette’s. Now stop trying to blame yourself and think of what you’re going to do about it.”
“I’m going after that man.”
“Mae says both of them have left town. Several men followed them, but they were shot at. One of the men was wounded. They said they’d try again in the morning.”
Logan had been so focused on comforting Peter and listening for the slightest sound from the doctor’s office that he hadn’t realized the sun had gone down. “Was the man badly wounded?”
“It’s not fatal, but it is serious.”
“Why didn’t someone bring him to the doctor?”
“No one will interrupt the doctor as long as he’s with Colby.”
So the vigil went on. But as it did, changes started to occur. Laurie and Jared took their two children and Naomi’s two youngest and left for Naomi’s house. Jared said he would come back after they’d fed the children and put them to bed. Women from the town invaded the doctor’s kitchen, and soon the aromas of food wafted into the parlor. The children didn’t want to leave the room, but they were hungry and were soon persuaded to go to the kitchen. In twos and threes the adults left to eat before returning. When Logan refused to leave, Sibyl brought him a bowl of soup.
Esther and Little Abe fell asleep, but Peter remained wide awake. Kitty left her mother, came to sit next to Peter and took his hand. Three more hours passed before the doctor entered the parlor. He looked absolutely exhausted. He hadn’t taken the time to change from his blood-smeared clothes.
“I’ve removed the bullets from Colby. One caused a loss of blood, but it wasn’t serious. The other bullet, however, entered his lung. I was able to remove it and close the lung, but I don’t know if it will be enough. Naomi will stay with him through the nig
ht. I’ll sit with her. If he lives through the night, he’s got a chance. Everybody should go home and pray.”
Peter started to cry. “I want to stay.”
“You need to sleep,” Logan told him.
He rubbed his eyes. “I’m not sleepy.”
“Well, I am. I want to be up early to see your father when he wakes up.”
Peter looked toward the doctor’s office. “Why can’t I stay with Papa?”
“Your mother and grandfather are taking good care of your father. Maybe you can sit with him tomorrow while they take a nap.”
That didn’t make Peter any happier, but he was so sleepy he could hardly keep his head up.
“Let me take you home.”
“I want to go with you,” Peter said.
“I’m sure your Aunt Laurie has your bed all ready.”
“I want to go with you,” Peter repeated.
Logan had no idea how he’d come to be a substitute for Peter’s parents, but apparently he had. “Come on, then. We’ll check on Trusty then go to bed.”
Sibyl was still up when Logan and Peter reached the house. “Is there any news about Colby?”
“No. The best news is that he’s still alive.”
“What’s Peter doing here? Why isn’t he in bed? Laurie must be worried about him.”
“He insisted on coming with me,” Logan explained. “I stopped by his house on the way and told Jared he was with me. I’ll put him in the room next to me. How is Trusty doing?”
“He’s fine. You’d never guess he was poisoned just hours ago. He wasn’t happy when I wouldn’t let him out to find you, so I closed him in your room.”
“Go to bed. There’s nothing more any of us can do tonight.”
Sibyl gave Logan a quick kiss. “I hope you intend to take your own advice as soon as I put Peter to bed.”
“I can put myself to bed,” Peter announced. “I’m not a baby like Jonathan.”
“Of course you aren’t,” Sibyl assured him. “You’re the man of the family until your father gets well.”
Peter teared up. “Why did that man shoot Papa? Mama said everybody likes him.”
“Wat Pfefferkorn isn’t a nice man,” Sibyl said. “Now go to bed. You’ll want to see your father in the morning.”
Logan barely got Peter undressed before the boy had fallen asleep. In complete repose, he looked younger than his nine years, more like an angel than the terror of the neighborhood. Logan could see a young version of Colby in his son. The restless energy, the complete confidence in himself, the willingness to tackle any challenge without hesitation, the passion with which he faced life were so much like his father. Logan wished he could have known Colby when he was growing up. From what Sibyl had told him, Colby hadn’t had an easy time. Logan hoped Colby would have many decades ahead of him to make up for that rough beginning.
* * *
Dawn had yet to break when Logan stepped out of the house. He’d taken great care not to wake anyone except Trusty. They had a job to do. Apparently he hadn’t been as quiet as he thought because Sibyl came into the kitchen just as he was trying to ease the back door open.
“I knew you’d try to go after Bridgette and Wat by yourself,” she said. “Why can’t you wait? There’re at least a half-dozen men in town who’d be willing to go with you.”
“All this trouble is because of me. Trusty wouldn’t have been poisoned and Bridgette wouldn’t have teamed up with Wat if it hadn’t been for me. Colby wouldn’t be fighting for his life if he hadn’t pushed me out of the line of fire. I can’t be responsible for anyone else getting hurt. I have to do this by myself.”
“I understand, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it or agree with it. They’ve gone away so maybe that means she’s given up and won’t come back.”
“Bridgette persuaded my doctor to poison me. When that didn’t work, she tried to poison me herself. When that didn’t work, she hired a dangerous killer to steal my will so she could forge a new one after I was dead. Does that sound like she’s giving up?”
Sibyl leaned against Logan and wrapped her arms around him. “You could give her the money. I have enough for both of us.”
“I think it’s too late for that. She’s gone too far to stop now.”
“Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”
“There are a lot of things you could say, but I hope you won’t say any of them. This is something I have to do.”
“I was sure you’d say that, but I had to try. You will be careful, won’t you?”
Logan folded Sibyl into his embrace. “I’ve fallen in love for the first time in my life. I have a real family for the first time in my life. I promise I’m coming back to you and Kitty. I’m a Holstock. We don’t go back on our promises.”
Sibyl stood on tiptoes so she could kiss him. “I’ll have a lot more of these waiting for you when you get back.”
Logan kissed her back. “And I’ll have a lot more of these for you. Now I have to go. It’ll be light soon.”
Yet he couldn’t resist one last kiss before he left.
The hotel was dark when he arrived, but the front door was unlocked. There was no one to tell him not to go to Bridgette’s room. He managed to get up the stairs without stumbling in the dark. The door to Bridgette’s room was unlocked so he entered. Trusty growled softly.
“I thought that’s how you’d feel about scenting the man who treated you so badly. I’m counting on you to help me find him.”
It was difficult to tell in the dark, but it looked as though Bridgette hadn’t taken anything when she left with Wat. Logan wondered whether she’d been forced or had gone willingly. She’d become such a different person he didn’t really know what she might do. He had Trusty sniff several of her garments. “You have to find her,” he told the dog. Trusty seemed more distracted by the scent of his former owner, but Logan figured it didn’t matter. If he found one, he’d find the other.
Outside again, he mounted up. “Okay, Trusty, find the scent.” Trusty was only part bloodhound, but Logan hoped his nose would be keen enough to follow Bridgette’s trail. The dog sniffed round the entrance to the hotel for so long Logan was afraid he wasn’t going to be able to find a scent to follow. Without Trusty, he would have to go to Camp Verde and hope someone there had seen Wat and Bridgette. “Hurry up, boy. I want to be gone before people start to wake up.” It wasn’t long before Trusty growled and started running toward the west. With a sigh of relief, Logan followed.
Logan had spent many years traveling the Santa Fe Trail, but he’d never really paid attention to the landscape in the morning. He thought he knew what it was like, but sunrise in the Verde River Valley was completely different.
In the dead quiet before dawn, he could hear the murmur of the river as it flowed slowly over rocks or around the roots of the massive cottonwoods that lined its shores. Their thick canopy formed great black blotches against the lightening sky. Three white-tailed deer, a buck and two does, had come down to the river to drink. Apparently hearing his horse’s hoofbeats, the buck raised his head, water dripping from his muzzle. He stood silent for a moment before turning and bounding away. The does followed quickly. A moment later a cougar emerged from the trees farther down and came to the river to drink. He paused when he caught sight of Logan. Trusty had been uninterested in the deer, but he took a strong exception to the mountain lion. Barking furiously, he started toward the cat.
“Get back here,” Logan called. “That cat can tear you to pieces.”
Trusty stopped in his tracks, but he kept barking. The cougar bared its teeth before melting back into a thick stand of cottonwoods, sycamore, black walnut, box elder, and willows.
“Keep your mind on your business,” Logan told Trusty.
The sky gradually turned from a deep gray to dusty blue to a pale backdrop for the red-gold sphe
re of the sun as it rose over the surrounding mountains, turning the river into an ever-changing ribbon of shimmering silver and burnished gold. Morning mist rose from the surface of the water, spiraling upward in crazy patterns affected by the cool air drifting down from the Rim above. Birds awoke, filling the air with their chatter as they fluttered among the bulrushes lining the shore. A lone bald eagle’s gaze followed them as they wended their way along the riverbank. In one spot, Logan saw the sharp-edged footprints of javelinas that had come down to the river to drink.
The river truly was the ribbon of life for the valley. Everything in nature revolved around it.
A deep-throated growl from Trusty caught Logan’s attention. “What did you find?”
It was a battered hat. Logan didn’t know why it lay alongside the trail, but Trusty’s actions told him it belonged to Pfefferkorn. Did that mean Bridgette had struggled with Wat? Logan couldn’t imagine her going willingly with such a man.
“Let’s keep moving,” he said to Trusty. “We’re getting close to Camp Verde.”
Logan wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad. If there was to be any shooting—and from what he knew of Wat Pfefferkorn there would be shooting—it would be better not to endanger innocent bystanders. On the other hand, it was possible the army would be willing to help find Bridgette. Out here, the abduction of a woman was just about the most serious crime a man could commit. They must be getting close because the hair on Trusty’s back was standing so upright he looked like a porcupine.
They had reached the outskirts of town when Trusty drew his attention to a small cabin-like structure standing back in a dense stand of sycamore and black walnut. From the dog’s action, Wat was either inside or had been recently.
“You’ve done your job,” he told the dog. “Now stay here and let me do mine.”
The first thing would be to search the area around the cabin for signs that Wat and Bridgette were inside. Once he knew that, he’d decide what to do next. He dismounted, but hadn’t gone more than a dozen feet when he heard the sound of an approaching horse. “Damn!” he muttered. “I’d hoped to get this done before anybody from town caught up with me.”
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