Ingrid (Walker Creek Brides Book 2)

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Ingrid (Walker Creek Brides Book 2) Page 2

by Miriam Minger


  “No, I don’t need a physician, I just want to go home!” she insisted again, knowing it was futile as the sheriff reined in his horse.

  Her dress all askew from their wild ride, her hair loosed from its bun and tumbling down her back, she had never felt more embarrassed as he dismounted, pulling her with him in one agile move. Without a word he carried her toward the front porch, Ingrid so infuriated now that she began to struggle in earnest and kick her legs.

  “If you don’t let me down, I’m going to scream!”

  “Doc Davis!” was his only response, Ingrid never gladder to see Charles and Molly, his lovely wife, rush from the house. She and the twins, along with Kari, Seth, and Caleb, Molly’s brother, had dined with them several times at their home and they had always been so kind to her. At least now someone would listen to her since Sheriff Logan absolutely refused to!

  “He’s going to say I’m suffering from the heat and having hallucinations, but I’m not!” Ingrid blurted before anyone could speak, though Charles approached at once to press two fingers to her wrist and a cool palm to her forehead. She blinked in surprise, realizing to her dismay that he wasn’t listening to her, either.

  “Take her inside, Sheriff,” Charles murmured as Molly ran to open the door, Joshua obliging the physician and carrying Ingrid into the house. With little ceremony, he turned into the drawing room and deposited her upon a settee, but gently, compared with how he’d grabbed her right off the sidewalk and rode away with her.

  “Doc Davis will take good care of you, Miss Hagen. I hope you’re feeling better soon.”

  Feeling better soon? So overcome by indignation and what she had a good mind to say to him, Ingrid could only stare flush-faced as Joshua tipped his hat and then left the drawing room, the front door closing behind him.

  Suddenly she did feel overwarm, her bodice damp with sweat. She tried to sit up, but sucked in her breath at a swamping sensation of dizziness and fell back upon the settee.

  “I…I don’t know what’s the matter with me,” she said almost to herself as Molly removed her shoes and propped a pillow beneath her stockinged feet. “I felt fine a moment ago—”

  “It’s our Texas heat, Ingrid,” Charles broke in, asking his wife in an aside to fetch a glass of water and some wet cloths. He turned back to Ingrid, adding, “It will take some getting used to, but you’ll be fine again soon. Just lie quietly, please.”

  Ingrid did as he bade her, frightened now that she might faint when the room seemed to shimmer and sway around her. Then Molly was holding her head so she might drink some water while a damp cloth was laid across her forehead that felt wonderfully cool.

  She heard the low hum of voices, Molly saying to Charles, “I added a drop of laudanum to help lower her temperature.” She felt the doctor’s fingers once more at her wrist to check her pulse, and then everything drifted peacefully away…

  Joshua Logan paced the front porch, knowing he had given Charles and Molly Davis the impression that he’d done what he could and intended to leave, but he wasn’t going anywhere.

  At least not until he knew Ingrid Hagen would be all right, his jaw clenched with concern.

  “Foolish young woman,” he muttered to himself, still not believing she had bolted from the schoolhouse and raced down the main street in the full heat of the day.

  Her skirt hoisted to her white-stockinged calves, her petticoat flashing, and locks of blond hair coming loose from her bun as she had fled from him like she imagined the devil was at her heels.

  If she had only given him another moment, he would have apologized to her for his unwarranted accusation of taking a rod to his son—yet he had himself to blame for alarming her with his unexpected appearance in her schoolroom.

  He’d become so angry when he got home from the sheriff’s office to spend a few hours with his children and Emily had sobbed that Davy was still at school being punished. Joshua had left his daughter with their housekeeper, Inez, who lived with the family, and couldn’t have ridden across town fast enough.

  Upon his arrival, there had been no sign of his son, just Ingrid with an eraser in her hand and the blackboard covered with Davy’s careful handwriting. If Joshua had taken a moment to collect himself before uttering a word to her, he would have seen that he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion and spared them both an unfortunate misunderstanding.

  Sighing heavily, Joshua paced to the far end of the porch with long strides and back again, blaming himself, too, for the dangerous malady that had overcome her.

  God forgive him, she was fresh from Minnesota and not accustomed to their Texas heat! He had noted at once upon entering the schoolhouse how overwarm the room had felt, Ingrid’s cheeks two bright pink spots of color. He had been relieved to hear that Davy had already left, though Joshua hadn’t seen him on the way there.

  The children knew to head straight home after school for siesta during the hottest hours of the day, when they enjoyed a nap or simply played indoors. Hadn’t Mrs. Jahn informed Ingrid that this was the way they did things in Walker Creek? Didn’t the woman warn her about staying late after school when even the thick limestone walls wouldn’t offer much reprieve from the blazing afternoon heat?

  Joshua shook his head and sat down on the porch swing, though the rocking motion only heightened his unease instead of calming him.

  He had known today might be rough for him and his children, but it had taken a regrettable turn he hadn’t anticipated. He had every confidence in Dr. Davis’s ability as a physician, but heat exhaustion was nothing to trifle with.

  Why hadn’t he kept Davy home this morning instead of sending him off to school? Joshua had seen first thing that his son wasn’t acting like himself when Davy picked at his breakfast, his usually healthy appetite all but fled. Davy had been short with Emily, too, which wasn’t like his son at all, Davy usually so loving with his younger sister. That should have pointed Joshua to trouble ahead, but he had been preoccupied with his own roiling emotions over Mary’s death a year ago to the day.

  An accidental death that still haunted him for its swift savagery. Her life snuffed out in the blink of an eye when she’d fallen backward while saddling her mare and split open her skull on a shovel.

  Yet what haunted him even more were her embittered last words to him when he had run out after her to the stable.

  “I can’t live this life any longer, Joshua! Never knowing if you’ll come home at the end of the day or end up with a bullet in your back! I hate it—the worry, the fear, and your stubborn refusal to find another way to make a living. It’s squeezed the love right out of me. I don’t want you, I don’t want the children, I just want to catch the train to San Antonio and find another way to live!”

  Then it had happened, Mary wildly waving him away when he’d come closer to try and calm her, and she lost her balance, her outcry cut off as bone struck metal.

  A sickening sound. A death sound.

  Stunned, Joshua had sunk to his knees to pull her lifeless body into his arms; only then had he seen Davy standing at the stable door.

  His young son having heard everything, seen everything, tears streaming down his ashen face.

  Joshua heaved a ragged sigh and rubbed his stinging eyes with his fingers, the horror of that moment something he would never forget. He could forgive Mary for anything—not loving him anymore, deciding to leave him—but saying she didn’t want their children?

  Joshua rose from the porch swing and began to pace again, thinking that Davy should have made it home by now.

  The boy wouldn’t have gone to any friend’s house; he knew Joshua liked for them to sit down to supper together. All he wanted to do was get home himself and hug his children and assure Davy that he wasn’t angry at him for acting up in school—

  “Sheriff?”

  His breath catching, Joshua met Molly’s gaze as she held the front door open for him.

  “Charles thinks Ingrid will be more comfortable in one of the infirmary beds, but he hurt his ba
ck the other day and can’t carry her. Would you give us a hand?”

  Exhaling with relief, Joshua nodded and followed her inside. “She’s going to be all right, then?” He didn’t miss Molly’s inquisitive sideways glance at him, but chose to ignore it as they approached the settee where Ingrid appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

  “She’s fine, Joshua, not to worry,” Molly murmured, Charles stepping away so Joshua could move in closer to the settee as another wave of relief swept him.

  “Yes, you can see for yourself,” Charles interjected. “Her color’s good, her temperature back to normal. A drop of laudanum eased her through the worst of it, but she’ll be waking up before nightfall.”

  Joshua felt a catch in his throat looking down at her, never having seen a woman look more angelic than Ingrid with her silken blond hair and porcelain skin—though her flashing blue eyes earlier had been anything but serene. Without a word he leaned down and gathered her into his arms, the softest sigh escaping her that made him stiffen, his heart skipping a beat.

  “Don’t worry, you won’t wake her,” Molly said, misreading his reaction though Joshua was glad of it.

  He felt strangely unsettled as he carried Ingrid through the house to a side door that led into the adjoining infirmary, but he didn’t want the Davises to think he was doing anything more for her than he would any woman in similar circumstances. He had been charged to protect the citizens of Walker Creek after all. He was just fulfilling his duty.

  “Right there, that bed,” Charles bade him, Joshua taking great care to lay Ingrid down gently, her soft curves not lost on him, either.

  Beauty, intelligence, spirit, determination…Ingrid possessed attributes any man would find appealing, but not him.

  Not him! He had vowed the day his wife had died that he would not inflict the dangerous occupation that had so tormented Mary on any other woman, and that he’d remain a widower the rest of his life. Stiffly, he stepped away from the bed.

  “If there’s nothing else, I should be going. I’ll send out a rider to Walker Creek Ranch to notify Caleb, Seth, and your daughter-in-law that Miss Hagen is here. I’m sure they’ll come straightaway to visit her.”

  “Very good,” Charles agreed while Molly ushered Joshua to the infirmary door.

  “Your quick thinking saved her life, Sheriff, especially since she was hallucinating.”

  “Well, I can’t say for sure that she was,” Joshua said as he stepped outside and turned back to face her. “She claimed an older lady stood in her way and saved her from being struck by a wagon, but I didn’t see anybody. I told her so, too, and that I’d been the one that shouted for her to look out. Yet when I pulled Miss Hagen onto my horse, I saw a tiny slip of a woman come out of a nearby store and cry out for me to hurry. Oddest thing.”

  Joshua turned to go, shaking his head, but Molly stayed him with a hand on his arm.

  “Joshua, I know it’s a year today since your wife passed. We’re grateful for all you do for our town—even on a day like this one.”

  He swallowed hard and nodded, not as much from grief but overwhelming regret that Mary had been so unhappy. “It’s an easier job now that Caleb seems bent on reforming the place. Earlier closing hours at the Red Dog so less riffraff on the streets late at night, drunk and spoiling for a fight. Shutting down the brothel and shipping Beatrice Dubois and her girls to Austin, well, except for one trying to make a new life here and helping out at the mercantile. The town’s never been so quiet.”

  “Yes, it’s a miracle,” Molly agreed. “My son, Seth, would attest to that. He and Kari couldn’t be happier, thanks to Caleb holding to his vow to make amends all around for being such a mean cuss for so long. My brother’s a changed man, there’s no denying it. Speaking of Caleb, I don’t want to delay you any longer from sending word to them about Ingrid.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’d better be going—what in blazes?” Joshua spun around at the sound of a carriage clattering full speed down the street, only to come to an abrupt stop right in front of the Davises’ house. As the sweaty horse snorted and bobbed its head, Old Man Beckham, the town’s longtime undertaker, waved frantically at them.

  “Sheriff, your son’s lying in a ravine near the cemetery! We were driving by and heard him crying. I think his leg’s broke! I left my assistant, Ben, with him—we were afraid to move him. Mrs. Davis, call your husband quick!”

  Joshua didn’t wait for Molly to alert Charles, but was already sprinting to his horse, his heart pounding.

  Dear God, Davy, hold on, hold on!

  Chapter 3

  Ingrid fluttered open her eyes, her blurred vision making it difficult to make out the shapes hovering around her.

  “Oh, Seth, look! She’s awake!”

  Ingrid turned her head toward her sister Kari’s voice, but a sudden throbbing in her temple made her grimace.

  “You’re in the infirmary where we’ve been tending to you, Ingrid. The pain will soon pass. It’s from the laudanum. Just lie still another few moments.”

  Ingrid did as Dr. Davis bade her, recognizing his low soothing voice, too. Vaguely, she remembered hearing his wife, Molly, saying something about laudanum to her husband just before she had drifted into oblivion. Ingrid felt slender fingers squeeze her hand—Kari, she guessed, Ingrid’s vision gradually growing more focused to find her bed surrounded by familiar faces.

  Her lovely sister looked so concerned while her husband, Seth, as tanned and dark-haired as Kari was fair, stood next to her with his arm around her waist.

  Charles and Molly Davis were there, too, though the doctor quickly moved away to a bed on the other side of the room. Another patient? Feeling certain that must be the case, Ingrid didn’t dare to move her head—not yet—to see who might be lying there.

  “Your suggestion that Ingrid remain at the infirmary overnight is a good one, Caleb,” Molly said to her brother, who had crossed from the opposite bed to look down kindly at her.

  Ingrid could not help but be struck anew by the familial resemblance between Caleb, Molly, and Kari, the three of them bearing the honey-colored hair that had set her sister apart from her younger siblings. Ingrid had always wondered why Kari looked different than the rest of the Hagen family, but of course, that had all been explained when Kari discovered they didn’t share the same father at all.

  “I-I’m feeling much better,” Ingrid managed in spite of her mouth feeling as dry as sand. “Not dizzy at all anymore so I’m sure I can go home—”

  “Have a sip of water,” Molly broke in gently, leaning over to lift Ingrid’s head.

  “It’s only as a precautionary measure,” Caleb interjected. “We’d all feel much better if you’d stay the night.”

  “Yes, we would,” Molly said as she placed a cup to Ingrid’s lips. “Drink slowly now, my dear.”

  Ingrid obliged her, the cool water soothing her parched throat as she took several small sips. When her head was raised a little higher, she was finally able to glance across the room to the opposite bed, her eyes widening in shock.

  Sheriff Logan sat with his back to them beside his son, who lay sleeping with his lower left leg protruding from the blanket and sheathed in a plaster cast.

  “Dear Lord, what’s happened to David?” Suddenly coughing from swallowing wrong, her eyes watering, Ingrid tried to sit up even as Molly pressed her back down upon the pillows.

  “Calm yourself, Ingrid, it’s not as bad as it looks. He took a tumble near the cemetery and injured his leg, but it wasn’t a bad break, thankfully. Children are fortunate that way, their bones still pliable. He’ll be up and running around again in a few weeks.”

  “Oh, no, it’s my fault! I disciplined him at school—I didn’t know about his mother!” Ingrid tried to sit up again, this time Kari leaning over her to push her gently but insistently back onto the mattress.

  “Of course it’s not your fault, Ingrid! Seth, please fetch Sheriff Logan over here, will you?”

  His black cowboy hat in hand, Kari�
�s handsome husband nodded and turned to go, but already Joshua had left his son’s side to stride toward them. Tears welled in Ingrid’s eyes as he took the chair Molly offered him and sat down beside her bed.

  “I’m so sorry, Joshua, truly. If I’d only known, I would never have punished him—”

  “Davy’s going to be fine, and I don’t want to hear another apology from you, Ingrid. Are we agreed?”

  She stared at him, silenced as much by him using her given name as that she’d done the same thing to him, a sudden familiarity between them that made her blush to her roots.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Ingrid saw a glance pass between Kari and Seth, and then they both stepped away from the bed. Molly and Caleb went to join Dr. Davis across the room, leaving her alone with Joshua. Ingrid felt so flustered that still, she gave him no answer, while Joshua glanced over his shoulder at his son and then back to her.

  “Like I said, he’s going to be fine. No one to blame other than myself, really. I should have guessed Davy would head out to the cemetery. I would have realized it once I got home and saw he wasn’t there—but him stumbling into the ravine? An accident, pure and simple.”

  “You would have found him before anything happened if not for riding after me instead!” Ingrid blurted, finding her voice at last and not convinced at all that she wasn’t at fault. “I had no idea the heat would affect me like it did. I was wrong to get so upset with you. I don’t know what might have happened if you hadn’t brought me here. Thank you, Joshua.”

  He didn’t reply, as if quietly absorbing what she’d said, just looking into her eyes and she, into his…but then he shifted in the chair and glanced once again at his son.

  “I should get back to him.”

  Ingrid nodded, her cheeks feeling even warmer than before as he stood and walked away without another word. Almost at once, though, Kari hastened to her side, where she pulled the chair even closer and sat down.

 

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