by Linda Broday
“Sure.” Saying a prayer, Tally lifted the light blanket. “It soaked the new packing but maybe it happened before you applied the pressure.”
“Possible. I’ll work a bit longer and change the packing, then we’ll know more.”
Rebel pushed back a loose tendril of hair and tugged up the low bodice of her red satin dress. “I came to help, Doctor. I can feed, warm a rock, or anything else you need.”
“I can use every hand.” Using her head, Dr. Mary motioned toward a crock on the table. “Rebel, ladle out a few spoonfuls of milk and warm it. It’ll soon be time to feed the little one.”
Tally moved to the bed and took Josie’s lifeless hand. “Has she woken at all, Doctor?”
“No, but that’s not unusual. Sleep might help her regain strength…if we can completely stem the hemorrhage. Come and apply pressure while I change the packing.”
Tally moved to the doctor’s side and did exactly as she said.
Jack appeared at the door with a plate of food. Dr. Mary thanked him and set it aside, then changed Josie’s packing.
“The trick seems to be working,” Dr. Mary announced. “The blood is slowing.” She washed her hands and sat down at the table to eat.
Rebel removed some heated water off the stove and set a small container of milk in it to warm. When the saloon girl allowed herself to think about someone else, Tally marveled at her competence. This painted a very different picture from the woman so full of laughter who’d been hell-bent on rekindling her romance with Clay. Tally found her heart going out to Rebel and kicked herself for judging too harshly.
No one spoke. Tally shivered. Even though Josie’s skin was cool beneath her touch, death hovered much too close for comfort. Time appeared to be measured by the sound of the hammers outside as work on the town commenced.
Each nail driven in was another triumph for the living—as long as Tobias’s hammer alone stayed idle.
The doctor stuffed the last bite in her mouth and came to relieve Tally.
Weak cries, no louder than a kitten’s, came from the tiny babe. Tally picked up the fragile life from a box near the stove, then cradled the child against her. She hummed a soft lullaby she remembered from her childhood so long ago, before the world turned dark and ugly.
Despite the soft hum, the cries continued. Tally walked to the bed and laid the tiny bundle under the blanket, the baby touching Josie. Suddenly, a hush settled over the dwelling.
It seemed as though by some strange sense the child knew she was with her mother.
Tears bubbled in Tally’s eyes. She leaned over. “Wake up, Josie. Your daughter needs her mama. Don’t you want to see how beautiful she is? She needs a name.”
But Josie slept on.
Tally went to the window and gazed out across the town. Luke stood apart from the outlaws around the fire, staring into the horizon, the plate of food in his hand untouched. Deep pain lined his face until it more resembled a cratered minefield. In this state, he seemed unable, or unwilling, to name the child. His little daughter needed what no one could give.
Tally didn’t want to consider the possibility, but if the child gave up fighting, how would they word her marker? Nameless child of Luke and Josie?
Pain-riddled memories of Creedmore suddenly rose. Tally’s lip trembled.
She knew she’d have to tell Clay her secret. But how?
And would he still want her?
Twenty-one
The following gray morning held no cheer. The sky reflected the concern on each face. Clay rolled a cigarette and lit it, his gaze moving to Luke, sitting alone by the campfire, staring into the flames. His heart ached for his friend, and he knew no words to ease the pain reflected on his face. Luke could face down and kill a man at twenty paces, but he’d be entirely lost without the woman who’d weathered good times and bad by his side during their short marriage.
Movement at the window captured Clay’s attention. He met Tally’s stare through the thick pane of glass, worry lining her beautiful features. Never had he felt so helpless.
No gun or bullet could fix the enemy Josie and Luke fought.
Clay breathed deeply of the humid morning air and rose. His search for Violet found her with Belle and Tobias January. Satisfied she was looked after, he strode to the dugout. At least he might be of help to Tally.
A twist of the knob opened the door and he met Tally’s eyes. “If the doctor can spare you, come and take a walk with me before I start work today. I need to know you’re all right.”
Tally managed a smile, such as was possible under the circumstances. “Dr. Mary, can you do without me for a bit?”
Muted light through the open doorway glinted off the doctor’s bullet necklace. “Take a break. You’ve earned it. Besides, Rebel’s here, and we’ll feed the babe. I’ll go check on Montana once you’re back, but I hear Belle’s taking good care of him.”
“Okay.” Tally reached for her shawl hanging on the back of a chair and threw it around her shoulders. “The fresh air will do wonders.”
A light knock sounded on the door, and Tally opened it to find Tobias. The old man handed her a burlap sack. “I found a patch of yarrow. Sort of figured you might run low.”
Dr. Mary appeared beside Tally. “Tobias January, you’re a saint. I don’t know how you knew, but I could kiss you.”
The grizzled old man’s face flushed. “Glad you can use it. Tell me if you need more.” Tally added her thanks and Tobias left.
Clay put his arm around his wife, and they went out together. “Violet’s with Belle, so don’t worry. Let’s go check on our house. I’d like to see what you think.”
Tally snuggled against his side and Clay anchored her there, loving the feel of her body next to him. He cast her a sideways glance. “I’m glad I convinced you to come. I needed to be alone with you for a few moments. Just us.”
“I’m sorry our routine got upended. I miss our private time too. And the dancing.”
Something about the way their boots struck the rocky ground brought a sense of peace to Clay’s soul. He hoped it did to Tally as well. She looked very pretty in that new calico dress. He didn’t think she’d had many new clothes in the last few years, and he loved making her eyes light up.
“Though it’s only been a short time, it seems forever since Josie screamed out in the night.” He glanced down at her, marveling how the sun’s rays coming through the clouds caught on her hair, bringing out the fiery glints mixed with gold. Tally reminded him of shifting, ever-changing smoke—elusive, impossible to contain, and at times hard to see through. Just when he thought he had her all figured out, she showed him how little he really knew.
Tired lines deepened around her eyes, but you’d never guess the depth of her exhaustion by the way she kept on taking care of everyone. He had no idea how she kept going, kept giving.
His voice trembled. “It’s difficult to watch Luke. I’ve never seen anyone so broken.” He tightened his arm around her a little more and buried his face in her hair. “But I would be too if it were you lying in that bed so near death.”
Tally’s voice was soft. “I think Luke’s afraid to give the babe a name. Maybe afraid once he does, she’ll die.”
“I disagree. I think he’s waiting for Josie to wake up so she can help with the chore. They only had a boy’s name picked out.”
“Just goes to show you can never tell about these things. I just pray Josie makes it.”
“I’m worried what Luke will do if she doesn’t.” Clay didn’t know how he’d keep living if anything happened to Tally. Strange that they’d only been married a month and yet he couldn’t remember what life was like before her. He’d waited ten years for her to come along, and when she had, she’d filled every inch of the empty loneliness.
He placed a kiss at her temple. “Do you think Josie and that baby girl will make it?”
“Me, either. She sure took care of Houston’s daughter Gracie last year after Gracie ate some jimsonweed and almost died. Houston and Lara feared they’d have to bury the child beside the trail in Indian Territory.”
“The doctor was out there in the middle of nowhere?”
“Nope, she was in the nearest town. Houston and Lara rode like the devil to get Gracie there in time to save her.” Clay guided Tally around a pile of lumber and into their framed-in house. They had yet to put up walls and the roof.
Tally gave a pleased cry. “I didn’t dream you’d gotten so far along. This is wonderful!”
“What do you think?”
“It’s everything I dreamed of. I can see how much larger it’ll be than the dugout. This house is everything I ever imagined it could be, and we’ll be very happy here. You’re a magician, Clay, the way you adjusted the plans you’d already made to give Violet a room to herself.”
His words came out raspy as he moved behind her and folded his arms across her chest. “I devote myself to things of importance. Baby girl needs her own space. And I made another small room next to ours, just in case we should have a child.” Clay nibbled behind her ear, noticing a strange look on her face. She was probably thinking of Josie.
“Yesterday, Rebel confided in me that she once had baby, a boy. But he died not long after she gave birth.” Tally turned, her eyes searched his face. “Did you know about that?”
“News to me. Must’ve been after I left Cimarron. What did she say?”
“Not a lot, but she gave Josie’s babe some thick lamb’s wool that she’d kept from that time.” Tally laid her hand on Clay’s stubble-rough jaw and he wished he’d taken the time to shave. “She was sobbing, simply heartbroken remembering her son. My heart went out to her.”
For a long moment, he searched his mind, trying to remember Rebel back then, whether she’d said anything, but drew a blank. In that life in Cimarron, she’d been as carefree as she appeared to be now.
“Did she mention who the father was?”
“No. From what I gathered, it could’ve been one of any number of men.”
Yeah, there was always someone in her bed. Damn this gray morning. He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry to hear about that. Rebel likes to pretend nothing bothers her, but it does.”
“I’m learning there’s more to her than I ever thought.” Tally was silent a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was barely louder than a whisper. “I knew a woman like her at Creedmore. I didn’t like her too much at first and thought she was selfish and a backstabber. But she saved my life one night.”
The blood stilled inside him. This was important. “Tell me more.”
“You’ve heard enough.” Her face appeared made of stone.
He coiled a fiery lock of her hair around his finger and held it to his nose, breathing in her fragrance. “Talking might help put it to rest.”
A tremble went through Tally and he held her closer.
“Maybe.” After a long pause, she spoke. “I talked back to Slade one day, spat in his face. He exploded and went crazy. Said he’d break me one way or another. Full of rage, grabbed me by the throat, squeezing the life from me. I was gasping, couldn’t breathe. His eyes held this strange glitter, and he kept ordering me to call him master.”
“The bastard!” The words exploded before Clay could stop them. He’d kill the vermin the first chance he got, and that was a promise. The need to ride out and close Creedmore’s doors once and for all rose up in overpowering waves, but so many things made it impossible to leave. He bit back a curse.
“I struggled with him, clawing at his hands. Blackness began to close over me. A woman named Felicia appeared, wearing very little. She tugged on him, saying she’d show him a real good time, until he finally released me and went with her.” Tally gave a wounded cry and Clay watched shadows darken her blue eyes.
“What happened to Felicia?”
She pushed herself away from him. “They killed her.” The sharp words could’ve sliced through steel.
“Dammit! Don’t let the memories get to you, darlin’. That place and Tarver don’t deserve a second thought. As soon as I can arrange to leave, they’ll be nothing but dust.”
A cry rose up and she covered her mouth with a hand.
“What is it?”
“Slade Tarver. He’s not going to give up, Clay.” She gripped his shirt. “Do you think they’ve come back?”
“No. Pete and Otis made sure they wouldn’t. They have enough just trying to get back to Creedmore to give you a thought. And if they ever make their way here again, it’ll be the last mistake they ever made.” He’d empty his gun into them without one moment’s hesitation. He planned to take care of them long before that though.
Little by little, the fear in her eyes left and the tension eased from her body.
Clay buried his hands in her hair. “Did I tell you how beautiful you are today in that blue dress? I’m the luckiest man on earth to have you.”
A tiny smile curved her lips as she slid her arms around his neck. “You have a silver tongue, my handsome husband.”
He captured her lips in a kiss he prayed she’d remember for a long time, letting his hands drift down her curves to her luscious bottom. He lost all track of time. It was just Tally and him and their hunger for each other’s touch. They kissed and caressed, whispering quiet words of hope. He yearned to see her naked and run his hands over her bare skin, but that wasn’t an option in broad daylight with three dozen men milling about.
Footsteps dragged him from the sensuous haze surrounding him. A man cleared his deep voice. “Sorry to interrupt.”
Irritation climbed up Clay’s spine. Scowling, he swung around to see Jack grinning like a fool and snapped, “I’ve shot a man for less than this.”
“So have I.” Jack didn’t budge.
“Do you mind if I spend a little time alone with my wife?”
“Dr. Mary needs Tally,” Jack answered.
“She’ll be along in a minute.”
“Stop it, Clay.” Tally punched his arm. “The doctor needs me.” She gave the former lawman a smile. “Sorry, Jack, Clay’s a bit cantankerous. Is there a problem with Josie?”
“I’m not exactly sure. Dr. Mary just sent me to fetch you.” Jack shifted the weight from his hurt leg. Clay had tried to get him to see a doctor about it back when he got shot, but he’d refused. Fool man. “Something’s wrong with Rebel though,” Jack said. “She ran crying from the dugout.”
“Oh dear. I was afraid of this.”
Clay took her hand, and they followed Jack back to the compound. Rebel was nowhere to be seen. “Would you like me to help you find her?”
“No, Dr. Mary wants me. Thank you for the lovely, peaceful hour.” She kissed him and hurried toward the dugout.
“Mama, Mama,” Violet cried. “Wait.”
The girl tripped over Bullet and sprawled in the dirt. The dog was licking her face as though offering an apology. Clay and Tally reached her at the same time. Clay dusted her off while Tally wiped her tears.
“Are you hurt, honey?” Tally gently kissed her cheek.
“My knees,” Violet sobbed. “I heard you coming and was afraid you wouldn’t stop. You’re always with the doctor.”
Clay hugged her close. “Baby girl, your mama has to take care of Miss Josie and the baby right now. She still loves you just as much as ever.”
Violet touched Tally’s face. “Do you, Mama? Do you love me as much as Josie’s new baby?”<
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Tally kissed Violet’s tear-stained cheek and smoothed back her hair. “Of course I do. There’s no contest. You’re my daughter and I’ll always carry you deep in my heart. Clay, bring her into the dugout so she can be near. Her being there for a little while won’t hurt a thing.”
“And I can hold the baby?” Violet asked hopefully.
“Honey, she’s much too fragile right now.” Tally gently rubbed the girl’s back. The love passing between his wife and daughter brought a lump to Clay’s throat.
He picked Violet up and carried her into the dugout, where he sat her on a chair. “You be a good girl and do as your mama says.”
“I will, Daddy.”
Clay kissed her cheek. “I love you, you know.” He rose and squeezed Tally’s hand. “I’ll only be a step away if you need me.”
The baby’s weak cries filled the room. He’d never heard a more pitiful sound.
“You don’t know what a comfort your presence is, Clay. Now go, so I can work.” Tally shifted away from him to speak to Dr. Mary. “What’s happened?”
Twenty-two
“Josie’s taken another bad turn.” Dr. Mary’s grim voice filled the dugout.
A knot formed in Tally’s stomach. She pulled her gaze from Clay’s disappearing form and got her thoughts back on the latest crisis. “What can I do?”
“The baby needs to be changed and fed. I have my hands full with Josie, so if you can tend the babe, I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure thing, Doctor.” Tally set to work, talking to Violet the whole time.
After putting a replacement rock in the oven to heat, she set a bit of milk warming, then changed the baby. In no time, the baby went back to sleep in her box beside the stove, tiny belly full and snug in the toasty lamb’s wool.
Luke came in a little while later and sat with his daughter, staring at the life he and Josie had made. He glanced up at Tally and the corners of his mouth quirked in a fleeting smile. “I’m going to shoot any half-grown boy that looks at my daughter. I know that much right now.”