by Kat Flannery
“I wrote to Doctor Philips.”
“Who the hell is he?”
“He is an acquaintance of mine, a doctor in Boston. I needed answers.”
“No, you needed a reason to bully Fern and her sisters out of Manchester.”
“What I do on my own time is none of your damn business, Sheriff.”
“How did you know Fern grew doll’s eye in her home?”
Pete was quiet. He glanced at his wife before hanging his head.
“Lucy told me that Ivy had brought the plant to school. I had no idea what she was planning.”
Fern saw Lucy’s face drop. Her eyes and mouth sagged downward. Without thinking, she pushed May to the ground as two shots went off. Her ears rang, and she tasted gunpowder on her tongue.
“Fern!” Gabe called.
She opened her eyes and saw Lucy lying on the floor across from them. Strong hands gripped her arms as Gabe helped her up. She pulled May to her feet.
Pete lay slumped over his desk, a single gunshot to the chest.
She glanced at Gabe.
“She shot him…and I had no choice but to fire.” He wasn’t boastful or proud. He was the law in Manchester and he’d done his job, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t come with some heartaches, and shooting a woman was now one of them.
She swung her arms around his neck, thankful he hadn’t been injured.
He smiled down at her. “It’s nice to know someone cares.”
She did care, and hoped he could see it in the way she looked at him.
The shuffle beside them reminded her they weren’t alone. May stood off to the side, a sad smile upon her full lips.
“Let’s get you two home,” Gabe said, his arm still around Fern’s waist.
“What about them?” May asked just as Bill Holt came rushing through the door his gun drawn.
“Well, it’s about bloody time you got here,” Gabe said.
Bill could see there was no danger and holstered his gun.
“Damn it, boy, you ought to tell your deputy when things are goin’ to the hogs.”
“I didn’t think this would be the result.”
Bill nodded, went to say something, but stopped when he spotted May.
“I was just about to escort the ladies home,” Gabe said.
Fern sensed Bill’s attraction for the other woman and interceded.
“I am well enough to travel on my own. I only live a short distance from town, but perhaps Mr. Holt could escort May home?”
Gabe smiled.
“You mind?”
“Sure, thing…I…I’ll meet ya out front.” Bill spun around and went outside.
As they followed Bill, Fern grabbed May’s hand.
“I will come by next week to check on you.”
“I’d like that.” May climbed up behind Bill. “Thank you, Sheriff.”
Gabe tipped his hat. They watched until May and Bill disappeared into the darkness.
“I’ve got a few things I need to do. If you don’t mind waitin’ around I can take you home when I’m done.”
She smiled, and he grabbed her hand, holding it gently within his own.
Chapter Fifteen
“Are you insane?” Fern asked.
“She is the only one I know, besides me and Bill, who can handle a gun well,” Gabe said.
“I can do more than handle a gun, Sheriff,” Poppy called from the bed.
“She is still mending. Robby shot her just four days ago.”
“I know, but the Judge I was waitin’ on was found dead west of Manchester this morning. Something tells me the Rainer gang is coming tonight, and I need back up.”
“My sister is not going to be your back up, Gabe.”
She arrived home late last night. He’d refused to let her make the trek alone. She had waited in town while he enlisted a disgruntled Mayor Smith to help him carry Pete and Lucy Miller’s bodies to Adam Kincaid’s, the furniture maker in town, to be fitted for coffins.
“Grab my Winchester, Ivy,” Poppy said as she slowly got out of bed.
Fern raced to her sister. “No. You are not going to do this. I will not allow it.”
“I am good with a gun, and he needs my help.”
Determination enhanced her sapphire eyes, making them brighter. Fern knew she’d not win this argument.
“What if you’re killed?”
Gabe stepped toward them. “She will be on Lou’s roof and will remain there.” It was a warning to Poppy and no one missed his tone. The girl had a reckless nature, and he’d picked up on it in the short time he’d known her.
“I’ll stay there. I promise,” Poppy said to Fern before disappearing behind the changing screen to dress.
She wrung her hands. How was she going to let her sister go? Poppy still had a hole in her side, and now she was being deputized to help capture the rest of the Rainer gang. Oh my, Fern was going to be sick. Black dots clouded her vision, and she sat down in the chair.
Gabe placed his hand on her shoulder. Before leaving last night, he’d left her with one of his tantalizing kisses. She was beginning to like them. They hadn’t discussed any kind of courtship, and she wasn’t sure how he even felt about her. She’d grown to care deeply for him in the short time they’d known each other and not having him in her life didn’t seem right.
“I will keep her safe. I promise.”
“You cannot promise this. She is of her own mind and will do what she wants. I can’t hold her back any longer.” A tear fell from her lashes and onto her cheek.
He knelt in front of her and wiped the tear with the pad of his thumb.
“Her aim is impeccable. On the roof she’ll be safe from any stray bullets and the outlaws directly.”
“You do not need to reassure me of my sister’s skill with a rifle. I know how good she is, but things happen. You cannot guarantee she’ll remain safe.”
His gaze shifted to the floor. “No, I cannot.”
“Then do not ask this of me,” she whispered. “Do not ask it of her.”
He stared at her for a long while before he stood, took his Stetson off and ran his hand through his long hair.
“I can’t take you, Poppy. I’m sorry. Fern is right, you’re still injured.”
“I’m going and you can’t stop me, Sheriff,” Poppy said, coming out from behind the changing screen. She turned toward Fern. “You can’t treat me like a child any longer.” She smirked. “Besides, I’ll peg those sons of bitches off before they know what hit ’em.”
Fern hung her head. She couldn’t let Gabe face the bandits without her sister’s help, and Poppy was right—she was no longer a child. She’d make her own decisions. If there was anything she was sure of, it was Poppy’s impeccable aim. The outlaws wouldn’t know what hit them when she started firing.
“I’ll come back,” chirped Poppy, clad in denims and a cotton shirt. Her long red hair was braided and hung over her right shoulder.
“Make sure you do.” She stood and embraced her. “I love you.”
“Don’t get all mushy on me. I ain’t no damn sissy, never have been, but I love you just the same.”
Fern smiled. There she was. Wild, hot-tempered and ill-mannered Poppy Montgomery.
Gabe grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. “I’ll be back to discuss what we should do about our situation.”
She glanced up at him. “And what situation is that?”
“The one where all I want to do is this.”
He kissed her rough and hard, with everything he had. She flung her arms around his neck, and moved her lips with his in a soul drenching kiss that left them both breathless and wanting more.
“Hot damn,” Poppy said, followed by a long whistle.
She cupped her heated cheeks within her palms and hid a smile.
“You ready?” Gabe asked Poppy.
She strapped on the gun belt, checked her pistols and reached for her Winchester. “Let’s go shoot us some outlaws.”
Fern rol
led her eyes. It was just like Poppy to say it as it was. She watched as they exited the cabin, her sister slightly slower because of the injury.
“I brought a horse from the livery for you,” he said, pointing to the brown appaloosa nibbling on the grass by the porch.
“She could’ve taken Nelly,” Fern said.
“A deputy doesn’t ride a mare.” He mounted his black gelding.
“Poppy wait,” Ivy called from inside the cabin.
“What is it, sprite?”
“You forgot your hat.” Ivy held out the tanned Stetson.
“Thank you. I can’t shoot outlaws without my lucky hat.”
“I know.” Ivy threw herself into Poppy’s side, hugging her.
Fern stepped forward, to warn Ivy of their sister’s injury, but Poppy shook her head.
“Make sure to save me some supper, and don’t eat all the tomatoes, brat.”
“I won’t,” Ivy called.
Fern watched as they mounted up. With one final wave and a whoop and holler from Poppy, off they rode. She prayed her sister and Gabe would come back, and the outlaws would be defeated. With a final sigh, she took Ivy’s hand and together they went inside the cabin.
Chapter Sixteen
Gabe sat on the porch in front of his office. Tommy Rainer was locked in a cell at the back of the building. Gabe could still hear his screams. He’d taken all of Tommy’s clothes, leaving him stark ass naked in the cell.
He snickered. He figured if the outlaws got the upper hand, he’d be able to buy some time while they searched for their leader’s clothes.
He was sure the gang had killed the judge. When he’d been talking with Bill this morning, the outlaw bastard gloated that it’d been his men. Gabe couldn’t beat him bloody, so he did the next best thing…ended the bastard’s rant by taking his clothes. The son of a bitch wasn’t so tough now, what with being naked as a newborn babe and all.
The seams of the old rocker whined as he moved it back and forth.
Tommy’s gang was coming. He’d bet his badge they’d show before dark when the town was quiet and everyone had settled in for the evening. He glanced up and spotted the top of Poppy’s Stetson. He prayed the girl was ready for what was coming. He made a promise to Fern he’d bring her sister back safe, and he planned on keeping it.
Bill was hunkered by a barrel behind the building in case the gang decided to ambush them from behind. He didn’t think that would happen. The Rainer gang was all show and had the bull’s balls to prove it. In each one of their robberies and breakouts they’d come straight into town without hiding their identities, taking what they wanted.
Killing came easy for the gang of rebels; they held not an ounce of remorse for the lives they took. Every lawman they came up against either died in a shootout, or was injured.
He didn’t plan on being either.
He was ready for them. Earlier in the day he’d warned the shop owners and Mayor Smith of what was coming. No one wanted to have any part of the situation and agreed to stay clear of the main road. He wasn’t surprised when none of Manchester’s citizens volunteered to help him capture the gang, he almost expected it. The way they treated Fern was a clear indication of the kind of people that had settled in the town. Unfortunately, Mayor Smith and Pete Miller had influenced them.
Even with Pete gone, and his wife being the one who murdered Sarah, he didn’t feel much would change in their view of Fern and her sisters. It was a shame. The Montgomery girls were kindhearted. He felt responsible for them. They’d come to fill the hole inside of him from the death of his own family. He never thought to find a place where he belonged, but within the cabin walls surrounded by all sorts of plants and herbs, he’d found a home.
The trampling of horse hooves brought his head up. They’d come early. He spotted the cloud of dust on the outskirts of town. His heart raced, but he held still. It took everything in him not to run out into the street and start firing.
Gabe glanced up at Poppy who nodded to signal that she’d seen them. He prayed Bill was ready. The riders came into sight. He counted five men on top of horses, hats low, bandanas covering their mouths and guns held high.
Gabe pulled his Colt from the holster around his waist and waited for the outlaws to get closer. Two shots rang out one after the other, and he watched surprised as two of the riders dropped to the ground. Poppy. He smiled. The girl was hell behind a barrel, and he’d underestimated her again.
The gang skidded to a halt, aimed their guns up to where Poppy was hiding and fired. He ran to the side of the building to shield himself and discharged his gun. Windows shattered, and the bullets hitting wood echoed around him. He fired again. One more outlaw hit the ground.
He aimed his gun when he heard a click behind him. Before he could spin around the gun went off. He dropped to his knees. His shoulder burned, and the gun slipped from his fingers. Damn it, he’d been shot.
His arm hung in an uncomfortable position. The shoulder drooped lower than the other. He could feel the warmth from the blood as it seeped from the wound. He had to get up. He had to protect Poppy. He couldn’t let her face them alone. Where the hell was Bill?
Gunfire surrounded him. He hoped to hell some of it was coming from Bill and Poppy.
Another click.
He spotted his gun, a foot from him. He bit down hard until his jaw ached and lunged for his pistol. A loud bang followed by a thud sounded behind him. He turned. One of the Rainer gang lay dead, a hole blown into his side. Bill limped from behind the building; blood soaked the front of his denims. He’d taken a bullet to the left leg.
“Thanks,” he said.
“The bastard came from the Mercantile. Must’ve come in from the south side of town.”
“How many left?” he asked checking the chamber on his pistol for bullets.
“Two, but she’s got it covered.”
They glanced up at Poppy, hat down low, red hair flying behind her. She wielded two pistols and fired them at the outlaws. Gabe lifted his gun to help the girl, but was too late. The Rainer gang lay dead in the street.
Chapter Seventeen
Fern refused to look out the window another time. She couldn’t see past the porch anyway. It was close to midnight, and Poppy and Gabe still hadn’t come back. Maybe the Rainer gang hadn’t shown, or maybe one of them was injured or possibly dead?
She stood and went about making tea. Keeping busy would take her mind off of what was happening in town. Ivy lay snuggled in Poppy’s bed, fast asleep and snoring. She smiled. The girl was very bright. Today Fern had taken the time to talk and get to know her little sister better. While running the homestead and aiding those who were ill, she’d forgotten to sit and talk with Ivy, making it a priority now.
The girl worried she was responsible for Sarah’s murder by taking the doll’s eye to school. Fern reassured her that Mrs. Miller’s actions were not caused by Ivy’s innocence in being a child. In fact, her teacher took advantage of the girl, using her to do a despicable thing.
Ivy understood, and promised to never take anything from the garden room without asking Fern first.
The door slammed against the wall and Poppy walked through. With one arm around Bill, she helped him into the cabin. The deputy’s leg was covered in dark blood. She made quick work of clearing her sideboard, and pulled it into the middle of the room. Fern pointed for Poppy to lay him on the long wooden table.
“Where is Gabe?” she asked, cutting off Bill’s pant leg.
“He’s takin’ care of the horses,” Poppy said.
“Thank God,” she breathed. “I’m going to need some water and a clean rag.”
Poppy nodded. When she returned Fern noticed the bucket was full of water.
“I didn’t need that much,” she said.
“Gabe’s got a bullet in him too.”
“Damn it, Poppy, why didn’t you say so earlier?”
The bullet had struck in the fleshy part of Bill’s thigh and didn’t look to have hit anyt
hing major. She’d need to remove it and make sure it was cleaned well. No infection would take his leg as she’d learned earlier from Poppy’s injury.
“I need you to boil a pot of this water. Find the whiskey Pa used to drink as well.”
Poppy rushed to do as Fern asked.
Her mind kept trailing to Gabe. How badly was he shot? Was he managing outside with the horses? She squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to concentrate on the task in front of her.
She’d mend Bill first then tend to Gabe.
Poppy returned with the whiskey and helped Bill drink it down. Removing the bullet was going to hurt like the blazes, and the alcohol would numb his body.
“Ready?” she asked Poppy, who placed her hands on Bill’s shoulders.
The girl nodded.
Fern took the long silver tongs and held them above the wound. Saying a silent prayer for God to guide her hand, she took a deep breath, held it and dug the tongs into the hole.
Bill sat up and hollered.
“Hold him still.”
“Damn it, I’m tryin’. The old bastard is strong.”
Fern felt the pellet with the tip of the tong, and with steady hands pulled it from the bloody gash. She looked at the slug and blew a sigh of relief when she saw it was all in one piece. She’d not be digging for any fragments today.
“Let’s get him cleaned and bandaged.” She glanced at the door. Gabe still hadn’t come in, and she worried something might’ve happened to him.
“How badly was Gabe wounded?”
“Shoulder.”
She nodded.
Fern cleaned Bill’s wound with warm water and a little bit of whiskey. She packed the hole full of yarrow and sewed it shut. She leaned back and wiped the sweat from her brow.
“This should do. Keep an eye on him. I’m going to find Gabe.”
“You got it.” Poppy saluted her.
Fern stepped out onto the porch. She was waiting for her eyes to adjust to the pitch black around her, when she noticed the light coming from the barn.
She pulled open the heavy door and saw him sitting shirtless on a stool by the lantern. Blood washed his back, and she could see the wound on the upper right side of his shoulder.