Dangerous Heart

by Tracey Bateman

  Someone had brought in a washbasin of water and strips of cloth. She dipped the cloth and squeezed. “How’d you know I was with the wagon train?”

  “Web.” He closed his eyes, and his face took on peace as Ginger pressed the cool cloth against his feverish forehead.

  Ginger shook her head at a stinging realization. Even though Web had assumed she was with the wagon train, he hadn’t thought twice about raiding them? He either hadn’t thought about the possibility of someone’s bullet connecting with her skull, or it was a risk he’d been willing to take. Probably the latter.

  More troublesome, though, was the fact that Buddy was in the middle of the whole thing. “You were part of the raid?” Buddy had never done anything illegal. If he had ridden with Web’s people and drawn a gun, he was guilty, too.

  He shook his head once. “Snuck off to find you.” He moaned, the sound tugging on Ginger’s heart.

  “Don’t try to talk anymore, Buddy. You need to save your strength.”

  “One more thing…The doctor…he’s a good man.”

  Ginger released a deep sigh. “He is. I know he is.” It was the first time Ginger had admitted such a thing—even to herself. But hearing the words from her brother’s lips, she knew he was speaking the truth. And he’d only known the man a few hours.

  The more Ginger saw things with this new perspective, she realized that no matter what had happened that day so long ago, she wasn’t unreasonable enough not to realize the man was mourning his own wife. No one but an out-and-out saint would have dragged himself away from his wife to help one of the men responsible for her death. She knew that now. Still, there was a lot at stake. She dipped the cloth in the cool water and swiped it across Buddy’s forehead. “Grant is a good man, Buddy. I’ve known him long enough to understand that. He would never willingly let a man die. But you have to remember not to let on where we come from. If he knew who we are, he wouldn’t be lifting a hand to help. Remember—his wife died in that raid.”

  “Ginger, I need…” Buddy’s eyes shot to the bucket. She grabbed it just in time and held it until he was finished.

  “Lay still. I’ll tend you.”

  She rubbed the wet towel across his forehead. His face was devoid of color and his skin clammy. His eyes closed, and she knew he’d fallen asleep. Ginger set the towel back in the basin of water and stretched out on the hard ground a few inches away from her brother’s pallet. She rested her head on her bent elbow.

  “God,” she whispered. “Please don’t let Buddy die. He’s all I have left.”

  She watched the steady rise and fall of Buddy’s chest as he slept. How many times had they fallen asleep this way over the last fifteen years? Too many to count, she figured. Before her older brother, Clem, died, he would lay down with her much the same way she did Buddy. Keeping her safe, making sure no harm came to her. And none ever had. Clem had taught her to ride, to shoot, to trap and fish. He might as well have been her pa. Without question, he was more of a pa than Web ever was.

  If only Clem were still alive. He had promised her. One last robbery—the stagecoach bound for St. Louis. And he would take his cut and the three of them would go to Texas, start a new life, maybe on a ranch of their own. Clem had fed into her big dreams of someday being a respectable citizen. Only instead of all of her dreams coming true that day, her worst nightmare had occurred. Clem had been shot by the driver of the stagecoach. But he might have made it if the doctor on board the stagecoach had helped him.

  Pain squeezed her heart at the memory. Clem’s death was as much her fault as the doctor who had let him bleed to death on the Missouri prairie. She had played the decoy, had stood in the road and waited for the stage to come. She waved them down and of course they’d stop for her just like all the others.

  This particular ploy had worked too many times for Web to consider the possibility that the time might come when their tactics would fail. As she thought back on it, she supposed it was like Sam Two Feathers said during his last Sunday sermon around Toni’s campfire when he described the giant crashing to the earth, defeated by a small shepherd boy with a sling and a stone. “Pride goeth before a fall.”

  Web’s pride in the way they’d profited that summer led him to be careless. When the stage driver pulled in the reins and everyone inside was distracted by Ginger’s sudden appearance, Web and his gang rode hard from the woods, shooting into the air to create chaos and confusion. It had worked a hundred times, but this time the robbery went bad.

  How could they have known there was a US Marshal on the stage? The fighting was hot, but when the smoke cleared, Web and the boys took off, leaving Ginger behind and Clem bleeding on the ground from a gut shot.

  “Sarah!” The scream coming from within the stage, mirrored the horror Ginger felt as she threw herself to the ground and lay across Clem’s heaving chest. The stage door flew open and a man jumped out, pulling a woman with him. “Bring my bag!” he yelled to no one in particular as he gently lowered her to the ground. “My bag!”

  “Don’t bother.” Another man appeared, this one wearing a badge. “She was dead the second that bullet hit her.”

  “I’m a doctor. I can save her. I have to save my wife!”

  Ginger’s heart had lifted with hope that only a child can muster in situations like that one. “Hang on, Clem. Please, hang on. There’s a doctor.”

  “Don’t.” He’d barely gotten the strength to speak. “He won’t help. I don’t blame him. I’m good as dead, Ginger. I’m sorry about the ranch. Take care of Buddy.”

  “Hang on, Clem,” she’d sobbed. “I’ll be back.”

  “No. Don’t. Get out of here fast.”

  But Ginger hadn’t listened. She’d never leave him. Soaked in her brother’s blood, she ran toward the doctor. “Help me, please.”

  The man’s brown eyes had lifted silently to hers. Dazed. “What?”

  Fear had hit her squarely the second she saw the pain and anger in his face. “My—my brother. We got caught in that fight. The dirty outlaws shot my brother!”

  “I don’t think so, girlie,” the Marshal had said with a sneer. “He’s one of ’em. And looks like you are, too.”

  Her brother groaned. Ginger clenched her fist as the panic turned to desperation. She grabbed the doctor’s shoulders and shook. “That woman’s dead, but my brother isn’t. I need help!”

  Agony clouded his eyes. “That woman is my wife,” he’d murmured.

  But Ginger hadn’t cared who she was. The only thing that mattered was Clem. He had to make it. “Hurry!” she called to Grant. “He’s dying! Don’t let my brother die!” But it was no use.

  And now Buddy lay sick. Another brother at Grant’s mercy. She knew Grant was doing everything in his power, but the situation itself brought the memories and the pain as though it were yesterday. When she looked down at Buddy, with his dark brown hair than fell over his ears in unruly waves, it was as though she were looking at Clem himself. Even the scraggly whiskers along his jaw mirrored Clem’s. Would he get the chance to become a man? Her sweet Buddy. He couldn’t die. He just couldn’t. In the darkness of the tent, Ginger prayed harder than she’d ever prayed before.

  Grant woke with a start to the sound of footsteps creeping close. His hand went instinctively to the revolver at his side.

  “Grant?” a woman’s voice whispered into the night. “Are you in there? It’s Toni.”

  Anticipating possible trouble from the outlaws, Grant was fully dressed, including his boots. He was on his feet before he answered, “I’m awake.”

  As he stepped outside, he was greeted by Toni’s worried face. “Ginger’s missing.”

  “What do you mean missing?” he asked, his stomach dropping. “As in someone took her, or as in she wandered off alone again?”

  “I honestly don’t know. But it’s very late, and she’s not back yet.”

  “Do you know when she left?”

  “Over two hours ago. She said she had to…well, you know…” Toni
ducked her head as he drew the obvious conclusion.

  “You waited two hours to come tell me? Didn’t you realize she wasn’t coming back?”

  “I’m sorry, Grant.” Her voice trembled with agony and self-condemnation. “I guess I fell asleep, because when I woke up the fire had gone completely out, and it was cold inside our tent.”

  Grant slapped his hat on his head. He’d love to shake Ginger. He shot a glance at Toni. “You’ve done all you can. Go back to your tent. I’ll look for her.”

  Relief crossed her features. “Thank you. I probably should have gone to Sam or Blake, but either of them would have been too hard on her.”

  “What makes you think I won’t be?”

  A soft smile tilted her lips. “Because you care for her.”

  Grant frowned at her words. “I do care for her—like I do all of the members of the wagon train. If she’s run off, I’ll have to report back to Blake. She’s walking a fine line as it is. I can’t keep this from him.”

  “I understand.” She placed a hand on his arm. “Don’t be too hard on her, Grant. I have a feeling Ginger hides a lot of pain. Sometimes, I think she has to be alone because it’s the only time she feels free.”

  He drew a sharp breath at the thought of what might have caused Ginger the kind of deep down pain that would jeopardize her position on the wagon train over and over.

  “Goodnight, Miss Toni. I’ll keep an eye on you until you get back.”

  After she’d made it safely back to the tent she shared with Ginger, he headed toward the makeshift corral to saddle up his horse. When he got there, he realized Ginger couldn’t have ridden off because Tulip was still penned up with the rest of the livestock. He frowned. Where was that girl?

  Then it hit him. He felt stupid for not anticipating her move. His feet made quick steps toward the supply tent, half-expecting to see the guard knocked out on the ground. When he arrived, however, he stopped short at the sight of Nate standing dutifully, rifle over shoulder, guarding the tent.

  “Doc.” Nate inclined his head. “Come to see your patient?”

  Grant nodded. He pushed his hat higher on his head with two fingers. “Has anyone else tried to see him tonight?”

  “Nope. Not since you patched him up and left yourself earlier. Why?”

  “No reason. And yeah, I’ve come to check on him.”

  “You go right on ahead.” He moved toward the flap to open it for Grant, then he looked up. “You don’t got to worry about him going for you. I tied his hands and feet together so he couldn’t attack anyone.”

  Grant’s eyes narrowed as he digested the words. “You did what?”

  “Tied up the prisoner.”

  Grant fought hard not to punch that pleased look off Nate’s face. Instead, he peered closer, leaving no question in his stern expression and firm tone that he was less than satisfied with the news.

  “By whose authority did you tie up a prisoner you were instructed only to guard? You weren’t supposed to enter the tent, let alone initiate contact.”

  Nate’s grin faded. “I—I thought…that is, I thought I’d be able to guard him better if he couldn’t jump me the second my back was turned.”

  “The man has a broken arm, and judging from the size of the knot he received falling off his horse, I’d say he’s got a concussion. Sleep is going to be on his agenda tonight. Trust me, he’s in no shape to get the jump on anyone.”

  “Well, I’m truly sorry, Doc. I didn’t know. But I was careful of that arm and tried not to hurt him. He stretched the other one over so I could tie them together.”

  “That’s very decent of you,” Grant muttered, sarcasm dripping off the words. “I’ll be going inside now. Do not tie up my patient again.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Grant hated to cause a panic, but Nate would have to be isolated now that he’d been exposed to cholera.

  “Go to your tent,” he instructed.

  Nate frowned. “Sir?”

  “That boy is ill, and you’ve exposed yourself. Get to your tent and watch for stomach ailments.”

  Nate didn’t argue, which was a mercy.

  Grant clapped the young man’s shoulder. “Go on now.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As Grant slipped inside, relief filled every inch of him. Ginger lay next to her brother, her hand resting on his unbroken arm. He grinned at Buddy’s unfettered arms and legs. Obviously Ginger had taken the liberty of removing his bindings.

  Good! Grant couldn’t even imagine the sort of pain that poor boy had endured. The position alone would have been excruciating. Nate was an idiot. Grant intended to discuss putting him on livestock detail instead of placing him as guard over anything.

  Knowing that Ginger was safe was enough for Grant. He started to duck back outside, but a slight shiver tremored through her body. Even in sleep, she felt the cold. He took a horse blanket from the corner of the tent and opened it wide. Tentatively, he draped it across her body. As much as he tried not to, he couldn’t help but note the soft curve of her hip as she lay on her side. Swallowing hard, he forced his gaze away from her figure and to her face. Then he caught his breath as he met her open eyes, flashing angrily.

  She shot up to a sitting position. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Covering you up. You were shivering.”

  The anger left her face. “Oh.”

  “What are you doing in here?”

  Once again, her eyes flashed. “I came to check on my brother, and it’s a good thing I did. How dare you tie his hands and feet together?” Her bottom lip trembled. “You’re supposed to help people. Instead, you hurt him.” Grant had never seen her on the verge of tears.

  “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” Ginger demanded. “Well, I cut him loose, and no one is going to tie him up again. I wouldn’t treat a buzzard that way, let alone a boy.”

  “I agree, Ginger,” he said gently. “I’m not the one that tied him up. Nate did. And believe me, I just gave him a sound piece of my mind for doing it too. It won’t happen again.”

  She stopped and her face contorted as it tried to match up her expressions with her rapidly changing emotions. But all she could muster was, “Oh.”

  “Toni was worried,” he said, hunkering down so that he met her eye to eye where she sat, the blanket still covering the lower half of her body. “She came and woke me up to find you.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry her, but I had to spend more time with my brother. Make sure he wasn’t afraid.”

  The words touched his heart. He’d rarely seen a tender side of Ginger, and yet this was the second time in one day that he’d witnessed it. “Why are you staring at me?” she asked, a frown creasing her brow.

  “I just wondered how someone as ornery as you could be so nice to your brother.”

  “Insult me all you want,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m not leaving Buddy. And as long as you force him to sleep in the supply tent, I’m sleeping out here with him. We’re family, and we stick together.”

  “There’s no earthly reason that I can think of that would make it a bad decision.”

  Her expression took a second to slide from haughty to surprised. “Really?” She smiled.

  Grant found himself responding with a returning smile. “I think it would be fine. And probably a good idea to have someone looking out for him since you’ve already been exposed.”

  A yawn stretched her mouth. He didn’t blame her for being exhausted. After all, here it was after midnight, and she had awakened early to the outlaw raid. She had to get up extra early in the morning for water detail, so he should let her get to bed.

  “Since you’re safe and sound, I suppose I’ll go back to bed myself.” He gave her a pointed look. “That is, after I let Toni know you’re fine. You really shouldn’t tell her you’re going to take care of private business and then not come back for two hours.”

  Ginger’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think…
I just assumed she’d be asleep. She could barely keep her eyes from closing when I left.”

  “She woke up and was worried sick about you. When you live in a group like this, you have to be considerate of other people.”

  “I am considerate! Don’t I always get the firewood and always give Toni the best meat even before I take it to Miss Sadie to divvy up the rest?”

  “You’re good to Toni. No one would doubt that you love her like a sister.”

  “Okay, then…”

  “For mercy sake,” came a weak voice from the pallet. “He’s saying when you leave, let people know where you’re going so they don’t worry.”

  “Well, I’m not deaf, am I? I know what he said.”

  Grant took steps toward the pallet. Might as well take a look at the boy since he was awake. Scooting back to allow him room, Ginger stayed close enough that Grant felt her presence a little more acutely than he wished for. One thing was for sure: he didn’t want to feel the feelings he had for Ginger. She was arrogant and rough, but something about her loyalty and softness showed a heart that could be touched. That part of her fascinated him and made him want to know her better.

  “Are they keeping me locked up?”

  Ginger’s expression softened, and she captured Grant’s gaze in a look that conveyed her worry. Obviously, the boy didn’t realize how sick he was. Ginger took the cloth from the wash basin and wiped it across his glistening brow. “Of course you’re not a prisoner. Once Blake sees you’re not going to try anything, he’ll let you go.”

  Ginger stood over Grant’s shoulder blocking the light from the lantern hanging on the other side of the tent.

  “Move back, Ginger,” Grant said. The girl was absolutely hovering.

  A quick examination showed the boy to be in the same condition as earlier that night. Stifling a yawn, Grant stood. “As far as his wounds go, I think he just needs to keep resting as much as possible. His body will heal. It’ll just take some time.” He looked down at Buddy. “How’s the pain?”