“No, ma’am, he didn’t send me here.”
She couldn’t hide her disappointment. “But you’re still going to help our little girl?”
Douglas smiled. The Simpsons’ affection for Isabel pleased him. God only knew, she needed good friends now, and it was nice to know she had two champions in Sweet Creek trying to look out for her.
“Yes, I’m going to help her.”
She squeezed his hand before she let go. “Doctor, I expect I’ll go into the kitchen now.” She waited until her husband nodded agreement before she looked at Douglas again. “You won’t be leaving until I’ve packed some leftovers for you to take.”
“You’ll have to work in the dark, Trudy,” her husband told her.
“I expect I’ll manage. I’ll light a candle and put it in the hallway. No one can see inside, doctor.”
“Ma’am, I really should be heading back to Isabel.”
She shook her head at him and left the library in a near run.
Simpson chuckled. “You might as well relax, son. Trudy isn’t going to let you leave without a bag full of her home cooking. Sit on down in a chair, proper like, and tell me why your brothers have been searching for the Texan. Do you have troubles where you come from that need the law?”
“No,” Douglas answered. “Ryan helped one of my brothers. The fact is, he saved Travis’s life.”
“So you’re wanting to thank him.”
“Yes, but also get back a compass he . . . borrowed.”
“Now, that sounds like a mighty curious tale.”
“I’ll tell you all about it some other time,” Douglas promised. “When I was coming here, I noticed your town has a wire service, and I was wondering why you had to go to Liddyville to send your telegrams.”
“The only way you could have seen the telegraph office is if you’d been inside the general store. It’s in the back room. Why’d you go in there?”
“To get some supplies.”
“Did anyone see you?”
“No.”
“Good,” Simpson whispered. “You broke in, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you snap the lock or break a window?”
Douglas was a bit insulted by the question. “No, of course not. Cooper won’t know I was there unless he does a close inventory.”
Simpson was grinning with pleasure. “I hope you robbed Vernon Cooper blind. His brother, Jasper, runs the wire office, and both the scoundrels are in Boyle’s back pocket. No one in Sweet Creek dares send a wire from here unless they want Boyle to know about it, and that’s why I used the wire service in Liddyville. Just on principle Trudy and I get all our supplies there too. We’d rather go without than give either one of the Coopers our hard-earned money.”
“If Ryan were to show up and arrest Boyle, would the man whose hands were broken testify against him?”
Simpson shook his head. “I expect Ryan will have to find another way to get rid of Boyle,” he said, “or run his henchmen out of town first. Wendell’s too scared to testify. He’s got a wife and two young daughters. He doesn’t dare say a word against Boyle, or his family will pay the consequences. The poor man. He’s got crops that will be ready to harvest in a couple of weeks, and with broken hands he’s going to have to watch them rot.”
“Won’t some of the town help him?”
“They’re afraid to do anything that might make Boyle mad.”
“Why does he want Isabel’s land?”
“He’s telling everyone he wants to put his cattle there to graze. He has a lot of land surrounding his ranch house, but he rents that out to some foreigners who buy cattle down in Texas and have them brought up to his land to fatten up. Boyle’s made a fortune over the last fifteen years, but he’s greedy, and he wants more.”
“If he wants to use Isabel’s land, why doesn’t he do it? She couldn’t stop him, and he has to know that.”
“He doesn’t just want her land, son, he wants her too. He’s real blatant about letting everyone know she’s going to belong to him. Why, he struts around town like a fat rooster inviting people to the wedding. Folks say he started lusting after her the second he saw her.”
“Why is he waiting? He could force her to marry him now.”
“You don’t understand Boyle the way I do. Pride’s involved. He wants her to beg him to marry her, and he figures if he makes her desperate enough, she’ll do just that.”
“Did he kill her husband?”
“If the bullet hadn’t gone through his back, I would have suspected Parker accidentally killed himself. I’m not speaking ill of the dead, you understand. I’m only stating facts, and the fact is that Isabel’s husband was about as useful as a kettle with a hole in the bottom. The man had grand notions about all sorts of things. He treated Isabel good though, real good. And he was kind to crazy old Paddy, even though he knew Boyle would hear of it and be furious.”
Douglas was intrigued. “Being kind to an old man infuriated Boyle?”
“It’s perplexing, isn’t it? Paddy came to Sweet Creek straight from Ireland and had lived here for as long as I could remember. Boyle came along about ten years ago and squatted on the land adjacent to where Isabel is living now. Within a year he started building himself a grand three-story house, and when it was finished, it was as fancy as any you’ll see in the East, I’ll wager you. He filled it with new furniture he had shipped from Europe and then had a big party the whole town was invited to so he could show off the palace. Even Paddy was invited, but something happened that night that started the feud between the two men. No one recollects seeing the two of them together during the shindig, but from that night on, Boyle tormented Paddy with a vengeance. Folks started calling the Irishman crazy then because no matter how often Boyle came after him, Paddy laughed about it. You know what that crazy man told me while I was patching him up one evening? He said he was going to have the last laugh. Can you imagine? The funny thing is, he did.”
“How’d he do that?”
“Well now, I’m getting to that, son. Paddy was dying of consumption. He hung on until one Saturday night, because he knew that was when Boyle always went to the saloon to play cards. I happened to be there that night too, and I’ll tell you it was the strangest dying I’ve ever seen. Paddy had dragged himself out of his sickbed, came into the saloon, and then laid down on the floor. He folded his hands together on top of his chest as though he was already in his coffin and announced he was going to die in a few minutes. That’s when things turned mighty peculiar. Boyle knocked a chair over running to the old man. He knelt down beside him, waving me and everyone else away, and then he grabbed hold of Paddy’s shirt and began to shake him, shouting, ‘Tell me, old man. Tell me who it is.’?”
“What happened then?” Douglas demanded to know, fascinated by the bizarre story.
“It got even more peculiar, son, that’s what happened. Paddy gave Boyle a big toothless smile and whispered something only Boyle could hear. And then he laughed. As God is my witness, Paddy died laughing. Boyle went crazy. He started choking the dead man and screaming vile names at him. Two of his men had to pull him off the Irishman so the funeral cart could come and collect him, and I heard one of his men ask him why he hadn’t killed Paddy years ago. Boyle was still reeling from whatever it was the Irishman had said to him, and all he would mutter was that he couldn’t kill him without knowing. The following day Trudy and I went to say our good-bye to old Paddy, and I swear to you when I looked in that coffin, that crazy old man had a big smile on his face. Isn’t that the darnedest story you ever heard?”
Douglas agreed with a nod. The doctor let out a loud sigh, and then said, “Boyle got over whatever was bothering him as quick as could be and started in pestering Isabel and Parker Grant the following week. No one saw him kill Parker, but everyone believes he did. I expect he thought our girl would fall right into his hands then, being pregnant and helpless and all. That was his big mistake because there isn’t anything helpless about Is
abel. Naturally she’s vulnerable because of the baby, and I figure Boyle, with all his money and power, thought he could snatch her right up.”
“Does he have marriage in mind?”
“Oh, he wants her legal,” Simpson replied. “Since she hasn’t started begging him yet, we think he’s waiting for the baby to come along. He’s a smart one, Boyle is. Most mothers will do anything to feed their little ones. Isabel’s a fine woman, but too pretty for her own good. I lied to Boyle, told him the baby wouldn’t come until the end of September, and Isabel didn’t start showing until she was well into her fifth month, so Boyle has no reason to think I’m lying. I don’t know if the extra time will help much, but I’m hoping Boyle will continue to leave her alone until he sees for himself that the baby’s here.”
“Doctor, the food’s packed up,” Trudy called from the hallway.
Simpson immediately stood up. “What else can I do to help?” he asked.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d send a wire to my brothers telling them I’ll be delayed.”
The doctor motioned to some paper and a pen. “You write it all down, and I’ll see to it first thing in the morning.”
“Do you usually go to Liddyville on Mondays to see patients?”
“No, Tuesdays and Fridays are my usual days, but I could come up with a reason to go early.”
“There isn’t any need for that. Besides, you shouldn’t change your routine.”
“Are you planning to bring in some help soon?”
“Yes.”
“I expected you would,” he replied. “I ought to mention something important first. Boyle’s going to be leaving to attend his annual family gathering in the Dakotas. He’s never missed one in all the years he’s lived here, and everyone expects him to leave real soon. You don’t want him to bring more men back with him, and I know he’ll do just that if he gets word Isabel has evened out the odds. Besides, it’s too risky to move the baby now, and you don’t want to be worrying about Boyle’s men setting her place on fire. They’ll do it as sure as thunder follows lightning if they know you’re inside.”
“How long will Boyle be away?”
“It varies from year to year. There’s just no telling. Last year he was gone six weeks, but the year before he was back in a month. I heard it’s a big family get-together he attends, and because he’s considered to be the most successful of all the relations, he likes to stay a spell to get their adulation.”
“I’m going to write down a second message I want you to send when the time comes, and I want you to promise me that if you hear from Ryan, you’ll let me know. I’d like to have a word with him.”
“How am I going to get word to you?”
“I’m going to come back every Monday night to check in with you.”
“Just to find out if I’ve heard from the marshal? Son, that sounds like you’re getting false hopes up. The chances of locating him are mighty slim.”
Douglas shook his head. “That isn’t my main reason for checking in with you, sir. If I don’t show up, you’ll know something’s wrong, and that’s when I want you to send the second telegram. Do you understand?”
“I do,” he agreed. “You’ll be careful coming back here?”
“Yes,” he promised. “I wish there was a way I could get Isabel and the baby to you and your wife though.”
“You’d be bringing trouble to town if you tried. Boyle checks in on her, and I’m sure that one of his men will take over the duty while he’s gone. If she isn’t where she’s supposed to be, they’ll tear this town apart looking for her. It won’t do any good to take them to Liddyville because he’s got friends there too, and there isn’t another town close enough to be safe for that newborn. You’ve just got to stay put, son. If you don’t let Boyle’s men see you, they’ll continue to leave Isabel alone. You don’t want that monster coming after you. No, sir, you don’t.”
Douglas didn’t agree. “Just as soon as Isabel and her son are safe, I’m going to want Boyle to come after me. Fact is, I’m looking forward to it.”
The doctor felt a cold draft permeate his bones. Isabel’s champion had smiled when he made his last comment, but his eyes told another story. They were cold . . . deadly.
Simpson took a step back before he realized he didn’t have to be afraid. He followed Douglas into the kitchen and whispered additional advice. “When the time comes, you’ll need help, son. There are twenty-four men working the ranch for Boyle, and every one of them is no good riffraff looking for trouble. With Boyle leading them, that makes twenty-five in all.”
“I’m not worried. My brothers will come.”
Simpson’s wife heard the remark. “How many brothers are in your family?” she asked.
“Five now, including my brother-in-law.”
Simpson looked incredulous. “Five against twenty-five?”
Douglas grinned. “It’s more than enough.”
Five
Douglas didn’t make it back to the ranch until almost dawn. Before he unloaded the supplies and bedded down the sorrel, he hurried to the cabin to check on Isabel and the baby.
She was standing in front of the fireplace with the rifle up and ready. When he called her name and softly knocked, she ran to the door, unbolted the lock, and threw herself into his arms. She didn’t mind at all that he was drenched from head to foot.
“I’m so happy you’re home.”
Her arms were wrapped tightly around his waist. He felt the barrel of the rifle against his back and quickly reached behind him to take it away from her. She continued to hug him while he leaned to the side and put the weapon on the table.
“I couldn’t imagine what was taking you so long,” she whispered. “But I never once thought you wouldn’t come back.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “You’re shaking. If you’ll let go of me, I’ll add another log to the fire. New mothers have to be careful. You don’t want to get sick.”
She didn’t want to let go of him. “I’m not cold . . . I’m just very relieved you’re back. Douglas, I was worried about you.”
She was trembling almost violently now. He held on to her so she couldn’t fall down.
“I was worried about you too,” he admitted.
Her face was hidden against his chest. “Did you have any trouble?”
“None at all,” he replied. “I got everything on your wish list and a few extras as well. Then I went over to see Dr. Simpson.”
“But Boyle told me his men are watching his cottage night and day,” she cried out in alarm.
“They never saw me,” he assured her. “I met the doctor’s wife too. She packed up a bag of food and fresh milk for you.”
“Oh, that was nice of her.”
“The doctor sent lots of advice.”
She was patting his chest. He wondered if she realized what she was doing.
“You’re very resourceful, Douglas.” And reliable, she silently added. “How did you manage to get in and out of the general store and Simpson’s house without being seen? Did you break the locks?”
“No, I just jimmied them open.”
“Good heavens, how did you learn to do that?”
“I was a thief a long, long time ago.”
For some reason, she found his admission hilarious. He didn’t know what to make of her reaction. He liked her laugh though. It was filled with such joy.
He forced himself to focus on more practical matters. Pulling away from her, he took hold of her hand and led her back to her bed. “Have you been up long?”
“Most of the night,” she admitted. “So was the baby. He just went back to sleep.”
“Dr. Simpson wants you to try to feed him every hour or so. Is he nursing yet?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Do you think he got enough milk?”
“Yes,” she answered. “He kept it down too.”
She sounded proud of her accomplishment, yet also shy about it. He caught her looking up at him, share
d a smile, and then told her to go to sleep.
“Couldn’t I help you unload the supplies?”
“No.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. I fixed your breakfast. It’s on the counter.”
“I’ll eat after I’ve put everything away and taken care of Brutus.”
“Did you remember to leave money for Mr. Cooper? I’ve never stolen anything in my life, and I’m not about to start now.”
“I left exactly what he deserved.”
Technically he hadn’t lied to her. He hadn’t told her the truth either, yet he didn’t feel guilty about it. He had left Vernon Cooper what he owed him, which was nothing, not a single penny. Cooper had turned his back on Isabel and joined ranks with Boyle, and as far as Douglas was concerned, Vernon and his brother, Jasper, the disreputable telegraph man, should be run out of town. Only then would they get what they really deserved.
Isabel was too excited to sleep, but she pretended to do just that so Douglas would bring in the supplies. Her excitement increased each time she heard him come back inside. She kept count by how often the floorboard in front of the hearth squeaked. Twelve wonderful times she heard the creaking sound, and that meant six trips to the kitchen and six trips back to the buggy. Were his arms filled, or was he carrying in one bag at a time?
Waiting was blissfully excruciating. Finally, she heard the buggy being driven back to the barn, and she couldn’t bear the suspense another second. She threw the covers off, put on her robe and her slippers, and tiptoed into the living room.
She let out a gasp of joy then, for the table and four chairs were stacked high with bags, and there were more on the floor as well. She ran to the table and gasped once again when she saw a large crock of butter, real butter, and another crock filled with coffee. Her fingertips caressed each and every bag, and everywhere she turned, she saw something even more wonderful to cry about. There was beef jerky and ham and bacon and four giant pickles wrapped in white paper. Pickle juice was dripping onto the tablecloth, and she thought that was a most beautiful sight, indeed.