by Jane Shoup
Howerton was suddenly there with a blanket. He wrapped it around her, despite the fact she was in a coat. But it was cold in the office; it was freezing. She couldn’t stop shaking.
The stationmaster was talking, asking questions—and Tommy was answering, while looking at her every few seconds. The stationmaster asked more questions, his agitation increasing. “You’ll have to talk to the marshal,” he said more than once.
“That’s fine,” Tommy replied, “but I’ve got to get her home now.”
“Why don’t you send the marshal to me first?” Howerton suggested from the doorway. “I saw the whole thing.”
The stationmaster knew who Howerton was. He pursed his lips and nodded. “You can all go for now.”
“We should go see the doctor,” Tommy said to Em as they left the train station. He still had his arm around her, and hers were around him as well. She was clinging tightly, but she was still shaking.
“You can’t,” Howerton said from alongside them. The rest of the men were waiting ahead. “He’s out on a call. I sent someone for him, but they don’t know when he’ll be back.”
Tommy stopped, wondering what to do. She needed to see a doctor. “We could go to Emmett’s,” he suggested.
“I want to go home,” she said pleadingly. “Please. I just want to go home.”
He glanced at Howerton, who gave a discreet shrug.
“Alright,” Tommy said to Em, who sighed in relief. He looked at Howerton. “Thank you.”
Greg Howerton nodded.
Tommy led her to his horse. “Shall I lift you up?”
She nodded her head.
He let go of her and she took a minute to prepare herself.
“I can go get a wagon,” he offered.
She sucked in a breath and put her foot in the stirrup. He lifted his hands to catch her or support her if needed, but she made it up. He mounted behind her and spurred the horse on, anxious to get her home.
From a short distance away, a dozen men of the Triple H Ranch watched in admiration. As Howerton mounted, he heard someone say, “You know, I used to think Pretty Boy was slow.” He was about to retort, when Sam Blake beat him to it.
“That’s because you’re an idiot,” Sam said. “And his name is Tom Medlin. Not Pretty Boy. We call him Tommy, not Pretty Boy. You got me?”
Howerton smiled with satisfaction and rode out.
Chapter Thirty-One
Back at home, Tommy bundled Em in blankets and started a fire in all the hearths. He left her to go tend to the animals and when he came back, it looked as though she hadn’t moved an inch. He fried eggs and made toast, which she refused. He ate and cleaned up the place and tried to get her to eat again, which she again refused. “At least drink this,” he said, easing a glass of warm milk with a little sugar and a healthy dose of brandy in it into her hands.
She took it and sipped, and he went to warm a pan of water. Returning, he saw she’d had most of it. He sat and gently cleaned the dried blood from her face. She winced a time or two, but didn’t say a word. As he helped her upstairs, he wondered what Sonny Peterson had done to her beside hit her and choke her. That much he knew from the cuts and bruises. Still, he’d never seen a more vacant stare, and she hadn’t stopped shaking. Her breathing, too, indicated she was in a lot of pain.
In her room, he stood at a loss for a moment. But this was up to him. She needed him. “Let’s get your dress off,” he said. “You need to just . . . rest.” She didn’t reply or react, and so he reached for her top button, half expecting her to brush his hands away, but she didn’t. One by one, he unbuttoned her and then eased the dress down around her, cringing at the bruises on her arms. He squatted. “Step out,” he said. He felt the pressure of her hand on his shoulder as she stepped out of the dress.
He stood back up, wondering how much he should undress her. To buy a moment, he carried the dress to her wardrobe and hung it up. Returning to her, he asked, “Do you want me to help you out of this?”
She looked down at herself and frowned, as if just realizing where she was and what he was doing. “I can do it,” she murmured.
He turned and went after the nightgown he’d seen in the wardrobe. When he turned back to her, she was getting into bed. His gaze went right to the bruised welts on her back, and his jaw clenched at the sight. She grunted as she pulled the covers around her.
“You should put your nightgown on. It’s cold in here.”
She didn’t respond, so he walked over and set it in front of her. “It’s right here. I’m going to turn around and you’re going to put it on. You need it on.” He turned and, a moment later, he heard the bed springs creek and then a soft rustling. Then he heard her lie back down. When he looked at her again, she was curled on her side, her eyes squeezed shut, her clenched fists pressed to her forehead. “Get some rest,” he said tenderly, smoothing her hair back.
Her eyes flew open. “Don’t leave!”
“I’m not,” he assured her. “I’m not leaving again.” He stood a minute and then went for a chair. He pulled it beside the bed and sat next to her. “I’ll be right here.”
When Howerton and the other men got back to the ranch, there was a commotion. “What happened?” Howerton demanded.
Mark Hanks looked grim and remorseful. “Johnny Macgregor’s dead. Blue shot him, or maybe it was Mitchell Medlin. I don’t know. But they got away.”
Howerton seethed.
“I only went to take a piss,” Hanks wailed. “I was gone two minutes. Next thing I know, there’s shooting.”
“Shot Johnny in the face,” Clyde spoke up.
“Blue was probably lying in wait for one of you to take a break before he made his move,” Sam stated. “You’re going to have to let it go, Hanks. It’s not your fault.”
“What about tracks?” Quin asked. “We could go after them.”
“Ulrich and Green went,” George Smith replied. He was in command of the operation when Sam was gone. “I told them to track the sons of bitches and then report back. Not that it’ll surprise me a whole hell of a lot if they come back with Blue and Mitchell facedown over their mounts. Won’t bother me none, either.”
Sam nodded.
Howerton swore viciously. He rubbed the spot at the base of his skull that was throbbing. “Where’s Macgregor’s body?”
“Laid out in the shed,” George replied. “It ain’t pretty.”
“Did he have family that anyone knew of?”
Sam shook his head. “No, he didn’t.”
Howerton was grateful Sam knew the men. Sam Blake was a good foreman. “I should have hanged them after they attacked Emeline Wright,” he said.
Sam shrugged. “Tommy stopped that. And we couldn’t have guessed this. They are some bad eggs, though.”
“I feel like shit,” Hanks said.
“I know you do,” Sam replied, clapping him on the shoulder. “I imagine you will for a while.”
Howerton started for the house. “We’ll all feel better when those two are dangling at the end of a rope.”
Em woke in the middle of the night and saw Tommy sleeping on a mattress on the floor beside her bed. Obviously, he didn’t want to lie beside her. And why would he? He must think she was dirty and tainted. She’d told him about Briar and now he knew about Sonny. She felt cold inside and out. Dead. Sonny had always made her feel dead. He always would. She reached down and touched Tommy’s hair. A dark curl fell into her fingers, and she began to cry. He stirred and she withdrew her hand.
“Em?”
She turned over, away from him, holding her breath so a sob wouldn’t escape, but it felt like her damned tears were going to drown her.
“It’ll be alright,” he whispered.
She didn’t answer, because she didn’t believe it.
Chapter Thirty-Two
In the morning, Em didn’t want to get up and face the day, in large part for fear of the disgust she’d see in Tommy’s eyes. But he insisted, and it wasn’t disgust in his ey
es; it was more of a wariness. She certainly would have understood disgust. Her face was bruised, one eye blackened. Her neck bore Sonny’s handprint.
Besides sore, she felt jumpy and strange. Even knowing that Sonny was dead, she still felt watched. Every noise startled her. The only time she felt safe was when she was with Tommy, and so she hovered close to him. At lunch, she made an attempt to eat, but she felt as if she couldn’t swallow.
“You gotta see the doctor today,” Tommy said as they cleaned and put away the dishes. “I thought I’d go get him and—”
“No. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
“Em—”
“I’ll be fine,” she repeated stubbornly, but she moved too suddenly and pain shot through her that made her breath catch.
Tommy dried his hands and then turned her to face him. “I saw the bruises. And that shaking your body’s doing, that’s ’cause you’re hurt, worse than bruises. I can see it’s hard for you to breathe. That’s probably because you got broken ribs. They should be seen to.”
“You could do it,” she pleaded. She was frustrated to feel a tear run down her face when she’d sworn to herself she’d stop crying.
He wiped her tears away tenderly. “I’d do anything for you. You should know that. But we have to get the doctor here. ’Fraid I have to insist on this.”
“Tommy, I don’t—”
“If we didn’t take care of something that causes a problem later, I’d never forgive myself.”
“I don’t want to be alone,” she admitted.
“Either you can go with me—”
She shook her head.
“Then I’ll go to the Triple H, it won’t take any time at all, and I’ll bring back someone to stay with you while I go into town.”
“But I’m fine! Why can’t you just believe me?”
“We’re getting you seen, and that’s that,” he said as he stepped back. “I promise I won’t be long.” He went for his coat and hat, looked back at her from the door, and then left.
She listened to him ride off, then turned and went into Doll’s room. She got the blanket off the back of a rocking chair and wrapped herself in it, but the motion caused sharp pains in her lower back and side. For a few seconds, she thought she would vomit, but she breathed in shallow pants until the sensation lightened, then sank into the chair, staring at the door.
Tommy knocked on the front door of the ranch, and a matronly housekeeper answered with an unexpected, “Hello, Mr. Medlin.”
It took him by surprise that she knew his name. He took off his hat. “Is Mr. Howerton here?”
“Come on in, Tommy,” Howerton called.
Tommy stepped inside, noticing the smell of lemon oil.
Howerton stood in the back hall with a cup of something hot in his hands. “You want some coffee?” he asked.
“No, I’m fine.”
“Janice, get him a cup. Cream and sugar?”
Tommy nodded at the smiling housekeeper.
“Come on back,” Howerton said. “How is she?”
Tommy came toward him, and then followed toward the office. “Not so good.”
“I can imagine. Bastard beat the living hell out of her. God, I hate a woman beater.” They turned into his office. “Have a seat.”
“I need the doctor and she shouldn’t be left alone.”
Howerton sat at his desk. “I’ll send someone for the doctor. Anything he should be told?”
Tommy sat, as well. “I think she may have some broken ribs. I don’t like the sound of her breathing.”
Howerton nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll send someone right away. But, uh, there’s something you should know.”
Tommy tensed. He suspected he was going to be told there was a warrant for his arrest. “What?”
Howerton drew breath, but hesitated as Janice walked in with a tray of cookies and a cup of coffee, which she offered to Tommy. “Thank you, ma’am,” Tommy said.
“Janice, send Ace to town for the doctor. He’s to go to the Martin Farm and see Ms. Wright.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell him to leave right away and to tell the doc to get a move on. As a personal favor to me.”
Janice nodded and left, and Howerton sipped his coffee.
“Thank you,” Tommy said.
“You’re welcome. It’s what neighbors do.”
Tommy took a drink to buy a moment, and the coffee was delicious. The best he’d ever tasted.
“I should have said the Martin-Medlin farm,” Howerton said with a half-smile. “You know, when you left that day—”
Tommy nodded, remembering well. “Yeah, I know. I had some of the same thoughts.”
Gregory laughed, then sobered. “But about this other thing.”
Tommy experienced a pang of anxiety, imagining the next words to be you’re going to be arrested for Peterson’s murder.
“Your brother escaped.”
Tommy blinked. “What?”
“I thought he might run, so I had him guarded by a couple of men, but Blue waited until one went to take a piss and he snuck up with a gun, and either he or Mitchell shot the guard.”
Tommy’s eyes widened. “Shot him dead?”
“Yeah.”
“Who was it?”
“Johnny Macgregor.”
Tommy ducked his head and exhaled forcefully.
“We’re going after them,” Howerton continued. “I’ve got men tracking them now.”
Tommy shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry about Johnny.”
Howerton nodded. “Yeah.” He took another drink and studied Tommy thoughtfully. “You and Mitchell, you don’t have the same father. Am I right?”
Tommy shrugged. “It was never talked about.”
“You don’t,” Howerton stated. “Different men, different blood. And the strength of the bloodline mostly comes from the father.”
Tommy didn’t know what to say to that.
“Mitchell is bad news,” Howerton added.
Tommy nodded. “I know.”
“Blue’s just a pussy who blindly follows. It’s too bad for him he fell in with someone like Mitchell. But he did. And he snuck up on Johnny with a gun. I don’t know which of the two pulled the trigger, and I don’t care. They’ve both done enough and they’re going to pay. I know you wouldn’t have chosen any of this, but that’s the way of it. Mitchell made his bed.”
“I thought you were going to tell me I was being arrested.”
Howerton drew back. “No. It was self-defense. You’re fine on that score.”
Tommy finished the cup of coffee and set it down. “I appreciate everything you’ve done,” he said as he stood.
Howerton smiled a cockeyed smile. “You owe me, but I’m good with that.”
Tommy nodded and left, hat in hand.
The doctor examined Em and then walked out to speak to Tommy, who was waiting in the kitchen. He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, a worried frown on his face.
“That was quite a beating she took,” the doctor commented.
“I know,” Tommy replied grimly. “I saw some of the bruises.”
“Well, you couldn’t have seen them all, so let me just tell you, there’s not too many inches on her that are not black-and-blue.”
“What about her ribs?”
“Bruised. Not broken.” He paused. “You ever been a caregiver before?”
“No,” Tommy replied. “But I don’t mind. Just tell me what to do.”
The doctor shook his head. “Nothing really to do, but let her heal. You do the lifting and heavy work the next few days. She’ll mend. She’s young and she’ll mend just fine. I left a bottle of laudanum for the pain, but she should only use it for a short time. Especially in her state of mind.”
Tommy nodded. “What do I owe you?”
“I stopped by the ranch and Howerton said to put it on his tab.”
Tommy shook his head. “No, sir. We pay our own bills.”
The doctor grinned. “He
said you’d say that, too. But he remembered a favor or two you did for him. Fixin’ his horse’s shoe or something?” He gave a little salute. “Good day, Mr. Medlin.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Four days later, Tommy helped Em on with her coat, watching how she moved. They were going out so he could tend to the stock, and because she had a fear of being left alone. She wasn’t speaking much, never complaining, but he could tell by the way she moved and breathed where and how much she hurt.
He came around and pulled her coat together in front and her gaze locked with his. He lowered his fingers to her top button as he worked it. He didn’t usually do this, nor did he need to, but he had been pushing some boundaries, and, so far, she’d let him. He moved on to the second button. “Wood and the others’ll probably be back tomorrow,” he said. He noticed the flush of her cheeks before she stepped back, nodding. She finished her buttons, so he went for his coat. “Gloves, too,” he said as he put his coat on. “It’s cold.”
“Tommy.”
He looked at her. “Yeah?”
“You came back,” she said curiously. “Early.” It was as if she’d just realized it. “Why?”
“I had a bad feeling.”
She blinked in surprise. “Did you really?”
He nodded and came closer again, wondering if he should tell her about Briar’s spying. But she was so fragile. And he wasn’t letting anyone near her again. If knowing would do more harm than good, which it would—
“I was worried about you, too,” she said quietly. “Before you left. About the talk you’d had with your brother.”
He cocked his head sharply. “What? What talk?”