Sweetwater (Birdsong Series) Page 11

  “They could have used me in the kitchen, that’s for certain,” Dora exclaimed. “Everythin’ was over salted and underdone, or cooked to a crisp. And Emily, you’d die if you saw what they growed in their pitiful gardens. It’s a wonder they get anythin’ out of ‘em. I missed you girls.” Dora opened her arms wide and tried to embrace all the women at once. Tears immediately sprung up in her happy, but tired, eyes. That set off a chain reaction of tears. Before Blake could get to the door, all the women, and even crusty old Whiskey, were sobbing and laughing and wiping at their eyes.

  Clearing his throat to draw attention to himself, Dr. Donovan stood looking at the joyful reunion. “Is something going on out here?” he asked innocently, trying to conceal his grin. “I’d like some lunch, please, if it ain’t too much trouble. This is still a hotel, isn’t it? And I am a guest here, am I not?”

  Just then, a dirty garden glove sailed past his head. “Since when did you need one of us to fix you something to eat? You know where the kitchen is, Doc.” Emily’s eyes were blazing with amusement.

  Dora pulled away from the jovial group. “No, no, no,” she hollered. “I’ve been dreamin’ of comin’ back here and getting in my kitchen again. I’ll have vittles set out in one shake of a lamb’s tail. How many guests, Patty?”

  “Just two for lunch.”

  “Whoopee! Give me fifteen minutes and then ring the dinner bell. I ain’t had this much fun since . . . well . . . shucks. I’ve done gone and embarrassed myself. But it was fun, wasn’t it, Whiskey, honey?” Her face had turned bright red and a twinkle shown in her bright eyes. She patted the old man on his sleeve before she disappeared into the hotel.

  “Can I give you a hand, Whiskey?” Blake asked. “I need to talk to you about some things concerning me.”

  “Hell, yeah, you can lend me a hand. That woman of mine loves to shop for her gals. We’ve got boxes from nearly ever’where the train stopped. She even bought you some doo-dads. But I sure do love her, Doc. She’s one fine, sturdy lady. Now what’s the trouble?”

  Blake told the big man about the prowler and the broken door. He told him about Emily’s past and about her worries concerning her stepfather showing up.

  “She thinks he may be in town and might cause her harm. I’d rest a whole lot easier if I knew you’d be keeping a close watch over Emmie. In the mean time, I’ll do my best to see if I can’t hunt this varmint down.”

  “This has been goin’ on for too long, Doc. But don’t you worry none about Emily. I’ll guard her and the rest of the gals, with my very life. You just be careful. This man sounds like a bad ‘un. Watch your back, son.”

  Blake nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “I think you got the right of it. Now, let’s get that wagon unloaded before those women come out here and catch us gossiping.” He laughed. It was good to have Whiskey and Dora back home. They belonged to the Birdsong, and the place wasn’t the same without them.

  * * *

  The big clock on the stairs struck eleven and the hotel was finally quiet. A family had arrived by train, and they proved to be a lively bunch. With one set of red headed, twin boys, age five, and three little girls all under seven years, it was a noisy and uproarious group, to be sure.

  Patty loved the children that came to stay. As energetic as they all were, they were just that precious, too. Happy, healthy children were a blessing to everyone around them, she thought. When she had the time, Patty would often organize games and crafts for the children to complete, to help pass the hours. Mr. and Mrs. Gustav Kerber were a delightful couple and their children were adorable.

  It was late, and Blake was still awake. He’d delivered a baby that evening, and he wasn’t convinced the little thing would be alive come morning. Her mama and papa were dirt poor and they hadn’t had the proper foods for a woman carrying a child. The baby girl came early, when her ma fell under the weight of the laundry tub she had struggled to carry. She had been trying to make a little extra money, taking in wash for people, and now, she might lose her one and probably only child, because of it. Sometimes life’s hardships weighed heavily on the doctor.

  He was nodding off, finally, and a good night’s sleep was not far away, when Blake heard a quiet scratching outside his door. He was on his feet instantly, with his colt in his hand. Silently, he crossed the room and stood in deep shadow, adjacent to the door, and waited for it to open.

  Slowly and silently, the handle turned, allowing the door to swing inward about a foot. Pale light shown across the floor, highlighting the bed against the wall. Blake held his breath. The door opened further and a black shrouded intruder rushed in and shut the door quickly behind him, immediately snuffing out the only light entering the room. For a second, no one moved.

  Then the hammer on the colt pulled back, and the noise was deafening.

  “Stop!”

  The shadow threw himself up against the closed door and tried to get away, but Blake had a firm grasp on the intruder’s neck. He couldn’t utter a sound, but he sure could kick. A shoe struck Blake’s shin with the force of a mule.

  “Ow!” Blake hollered, just as it dawned on him that the neck he was holding so tightly, was long and delicate. This didn’t feel right. And that kick was a dainty little shoe, not a boot. Oh, damn it, he thought. What the hell had he done?

  The doctor shut his eyes and forced himself to ask that all-important question before he let go of his victim’s neck. “Emmie, could this possibly be you?” He could barely breathe for fear of the answer.

  His answer came in another swift kick, only a little higher up his thigh.

  “Hey! Watch where you’re kicking, Em!”

  Emily was now coughing and gagging. She thought she might throw up and it would serve this impossible man right. She should die of her injuries, right in front of him. He’d never get over that. She hated him—almost.

  Blake was beside himself with remorse for his actions, and begged Emily for her forgiveness. “Darling, I swear I didn’t know it was you. Why didn’t you say something before you just barged in?”

  “What?” she squeaked.

  “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I just meant that you should have let me know it was you. God, Emmie! I could have shot you. Even a dummy knows that you don’t surprise a man in the middle of the night.”

  “A dummy?”

  “No! You’re not a dummy, Emmie . . . not exactly.”

  “What?” she screeched.

  “I love you, and you’re beautiful and smart. I just meant you sometimes don’t think before you do something stupid.”

  “Stupid, am I?”

  Before Blake could make it worse, Emily had pulled away from his arms and held the door wide open. Giving him one last glaring look that could freeze over Hades, she slammed the door, and retreated down the hall to her own room, where she slammed the door again.

  “Oh, hell!” Blake sighed. He stumbled back to bed, knowing he’d never find the shuteye he needed so desperately, now. He’d made a total mess of things and it would be almost impossible to smooth things over with Emmie tomorrow. It had all been a huge mistake. She’d realize that, in the morning. Maybe they’d even laugh about it.

  No . . . probably not.

  When everyone met in the kitchen, the next morning, the overall mood was distinctly cool. Each and every one, gathered around the well-worn table, had heard the slamming of doors the night before. And by the stormy look on Emily’s usually smiling face, and the look of total chagrin on the face of the handsome young doctor, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had transpired in the wee hours of the night. Curious eyes darted from one to the other, until Dora decided to put an end to the speculation.

  “You might as well come out with it. We all know you had a lover’s spat. Were you less than a gentleman, Doc? Does Whiskey need to get his shotgun?” The older woman was as serious as a snakebite. If he had done anything to harm one of her lambs, he’d have to make things right.

  “No, Dora,” Emily
sighed. “It was entirely my fault.” She turned her magnificent blue eyes up to read Blake’s face. “I am the one who must apologize. I did something stupid and the doc called me out on it. It was I who slammed the doors. Forgive me, all of you, for disturbing your slumber.”

  “Well, we weren’t asleep yet,” Whiskey volunteered, as he winked at his feisty wife.

  “Neither were we,” Patty said supportively. “I was still braiding Cassie’s hair. We hardly took notice of the noise. Did we, Cassie?” Patty asked, raising her eyebrows at the young girl.

  Cassie looked bewildered, but shook her head.

  Blake was the only one in the room not to have said a word. He was embarrassed and angry with himself for having caused such a ruckus. Ordinarily, the doctor was smooth with women. He said and did all the right things, causing them to swoon over him, but since meeting Emily, he seemed to have lost all of his finesse. She kept him in a constant state of turmoil and he couldn’t understand why. In her presence, he always felt as if he was slightly off-balance. One thing he knew for certain—if he didn’t get hold of himself soon, he’d lose her, and that he could not risk.

  The best he could do, at the moment, was sniff and nod his head once. He tipped his hat and left the hotel, looking forward to setting bones and cleaning wounds, but first he was going to ride out and check on a little baby girl. This morning, he needed fresh air and plenty of space to reorganize his thoughts.

  Hubert Anderson came running into the doctor’s office, his face as white as a sheet. Blake could tell he was in shock and would soon, more than likely, pass out. He rushed to the attorney’s side and led him over to the examining table.

  “What happened, Hugh?”

  “Oh, God. It’s all my fault. I was rearranging my bookshelves, making space for another, when the shelf started to fall toward me. I guess I should have removed the books before I tried to move it.”

  “I think that would have been wise,” Blake said rather harshly, as he looked the man over.

  “It was either my hand or my head, so I tried to catch it, as it fell forward. It caught my finger between it and the table. It’s broken, Doc. I just know it.” He shut his eyes and never looked at his hand.

  “Hell, Hugh! You practically lost the damn finger. It’s barely hanging on.” Just as Blake described the wound to the lawyer, the man doubled over and slid to the floor in a dead faint.

  “Hugh!” Blake yelled, as he caught the man up and softened his fall. “I have a talent for saying all the wrong things, lately,” he muttered to himself.

  Hubert Anderson was no small man, and it was all Blake could do, to lift him back up onto the table. Upon further examination of the finger, the doctor knew he would not be able to save it. Quickly, before coming to, Blake decided to finish severing the finger. It would hurt like hell, but it would be better than losing his hand at a later date.

  Sure enough, Mr. Anderson awoke to a bandaged hand minus the pinky finger. It hurt like the dickens, but he was grateful to the doc.

  “Now, close up shop for the rest of the week, Hugh. Go home and stay drunk for a couple of days. Take two of these tablets if the pain gets too bad. Keep the bandage clean and dry. Come back and see me on Monday. If anything pops up before then, you know where I live. I’m real sorry about the finger.”

  “It was my own stupidity, Doc. I’ve been doing a lot of stupid things, lately. I guess it’s the love of a good woman that makes me act this way. Ever since I started seeing Nellie, I can’t seem to think straight. Sure hope this condition is temporary,” he snickered.

  “Believe me, I know just what you’re going through,” Blake responded, shaking his head in resignation. “I hope I survive it. Being in love, I mean.”

  “Well,” the attorney got up, a little unsteadily, and headed toward the door. “If there’s anything I can do for you, you just gotta’ ask, Doc.”

  “As a matter of fact, there is one thing. I’d like for you to put my farm in Emily Falkenrath’s name. She wants a farm, and I don’t care one way or another about that little patch of dirt I own. I know it’s not much, but maybe it will make her happy enough to marry me.”

  “You sure? It’s worth a pretty penny.”

  “Yeah, I’m certain I want her to have it. If you could see her blue eyes light up every time she mentions her farm—the one that got away—it breaks my heart, every time.”

  “Consider it done, Doc.”

  “Thanks.” Blake smiled at his decision. The first objective in his plan was now a reality, and it was time to go on to the next, he thought.

  Cassie waltzed from room to room as she made up beds, swept the rugs, and dusted the tables. She hummed a merry tune while radiating sheer joy at the thought of Corporal Adam Breyer coming for supper. She knew she was in love with the handsome, dark-haired soldier. She loved the way his hair shown blue in the sunlight, so unlike her own blonde tresses. Her lavender eyes were completely different from his deep black ones. They gave off a compelling air of mystery, which she was unable to ignore. The touch of his hand on her skin left her feverish and tingling with excitement. Yes, this was definitely love, she thought, and her handsome corporal was coming to dinner.

  Emily had been working off her tension in the flower gardens in front of the hotel, when the handle on her hoe snapped off. “That’ll teach me to take out my anger on the poor garden,” she grumbled. Looking around, she saw no other tool that could be used to finish the rows. Knowing she would have to call it a day before the job was complete, Emmie made a decision.

  “I’ll have to go and have it repaired,” she said. Without thinking, she grabbed up the handle and the hoe, and marched out the front gate. There was no time to inform anyone of her leaving, but surely it wouldn’t be a problem, as it wasn’t even time for the noonday meal. Jasper could have the handle replaced before she was missed, and she’d complete her chores on schedule. She walked quickly, intending to be back before anyone noticed her absence.

  Unfortunately, Jasper’s blacksmith shop was several blocks down from the hotel. She put one foot in front of the other, and walked briskly past the bank, past the post office, and the doctor’s office. No way was she going in there!

  She continued down the dusty sidewalk, past the Tumbleweed Saloon, past the boot repair, when she heard the little whimper. It sounded like a pup in trouble and it stopped her in her tracks. She listened for the sound. There it was again. It seemed to come from the rear of the boot repair. The tiny sound was soft and it caused her tender heart to flutter, thinking of the obvious distress of the puppy.

  She turned from the sidewalk and crept slowly between the saloon and the repair shop, not wanting to scare the young dog. She wondered what was causing him pain. Perhaps he’d been set upon by a much larger dog, or maybe his mother had abandoned him.

  “Pup?” she whispered. “Where are you, sweetie?”

  The sound grew louder. She was getting closer, when she noticed a rope lying coiled on the ground and running out from under a large crate. Emily put down the broken hoe and picked up the rope, gently pulling on its length. It uncoiled and suddenly stopped. As she bent over to lift the crate, she noticed a large, muddy boot standing just off to her side. Her heart leapt into throat. This was a trap—he’d found her.

  A dirty hand, with filthy fingernails, lifted the crate to reveal a small black puppy, so thin it didn’t have the strength to stand. Its small ribs were clearly defined and its round eyes had given up all hope of a rescue. As she reached for the pitiful creature, a deep laugh rumbled out of the large man’s chest.

  Emily didn’t dare look into his face. She knew what she would see and she knew she would lose all her courage. The puppy came first, she vowed.

  “If it ain’t that no-good bit of a girl, Emily. Been a long time, sweet thing,” the ugly man hissed. “You miss yer pappy?”

  She slowly stood, still refusing to look at him. Emily placed her nose into the soft black fur of the pup, willing Blake to find her. The man’s s
tench was overpowering, making her stomach seize. Against her will, tears filled her eyes and her knees began to tremble.

  “I think we need us a family reunion, what do you say, girlie? A good, long one. I hear tell, you got lots of money, now. Sure could use me some of that, daughter. It’s time you and I got reacquainted.” He grabbed Emily’s arm so hard, she thought it might break, but still, she refused to relinquish her hold on the dog. She felt he was her lifeline.

  “Where is Emily? She’s missed her lunch. Did anyone check her room?” Patty inquired. Now that everyone was watching for unexpected strangers hanging around, it was unlike one of the girls to go off without an escort.

  Cassie answered. “I checked her room and she’s not been in there. She stopped her work in the flowerbed, too. I know, because she was going to take some cuttings for me and I never got them.”

  “She’s probably with the doc,” Dora stated. “After their little quarrel, they probably needed some private time to make up,” she giggled. “Nevertheless, I’ll ask Whiskey to walk about town and see if he can find her.”

  It was late, and Dora was finishing up the dinner menu, while Patty set the table for the guests. Cassie was out on the porch, waiting for Corporal Breyer. She smiled as Dr. Donovan entered, looking tired and hungry.

  “Evening, Doc. Dinner’s ready soon. Adam will be dining with us, tonight.” She brightened.

  “Good evening, Cassie. It’ll be good to see your young man again. He’s a good sort and I approve of his courting you. Is Emily ready for dinner?” Blake needed to be in her company, even if she wasn’t speaking to him. Just gazing upon her loveliness made him feel stronger and filled him with optimism for the future. It had been a rough day. The baby girl didn’t make it.

  “As a matter of fact, she’s been gone all day. We thought she might be with you.”

  “What? All day? Why didn’t someone come and find me? She’s missing, for God’s sake!” He stormed through the doors, giving not a thought to the guests lining up for dinner. “Where the hell is Emmie?” he shouted.