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Wild Western Women Boxed Set Page 35
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“Hmph. No woman tells me what to do. Always wanting you to fancy up and take a bath.” He scratched at his crotch and Matt figured no woman had told him to bathe in far too long a time.
Matt said good evening and left, ready to spring the trap he and Tom had discussed. He went in the front door of the boarding house.
Beth and Lena Mae rushed up to him. He nodded to Mrs. Tabor, The Widow Nehmier, and Mr. Findley and answered their questions. After a few minutes, he excused himself, called to Davey, and signaled Lena Mae and Beth to follow.
When they were in Lena Mae’s sitting room with the door closed, Beth placed a hand on his arm. “Tell us what happened. Did you find any sign of Ivan?”
“First I have an important job for Davey.” He knelt down and offered a coin to the boy. “This is yours if you can do something.”
“Wait just a minute.” Beth frowned at him. “Don’t involve Davey in anything dangerous.”
That hurt Matt, showed she didn’t trust him any more than he deserved. “I would never put Davey in harm’s way.”
“What is it?” Davey grabbed the coin. “I can do it, Matt. You can count on me.”
“Take Tiger out on the front porch and play like the first day I came. But secretly you watch the livery stable. Can you do that without anyone knowing?”
“Well, sure. I seen you coming a long time before you got off your horse and then came over here.”
“Smart boy. Remember, don’t let anyone know you’re watching the livery stable. The minute someone rides in there, though, you come get me.”
Davey raced to find Tiger and Matt heard the slam of the screen door a few seconds later.
Beth grabbed both his arms and made him face her. “Tell us what happened. We’ve been worried to death about you.”
They’d worried about him? He smiled down at her. “You want the whole thing, or the short version?”
She shook him, or tried to. “Tell us now. Did you find any sign of Ivan?”
“I think I know which building he’s in. Both of you sit down and I’ll let you have the whole thing.” He guided Beth to a chair.
Lena Mae took a big armchair that looked like her favorite place, but instead of relaxing, she sat on the edge wringing her hands. “Do you think he’s alive?”
“Yes, ma’am. They have him locked in the infirmary, so I reckon he could be drugged.” He recounted the whole afternoon, including the sheriff’s part in it, but omitted the fact the sheriff finally recognized him. Time enough for that later.
The clock bonged and Lena Mae came to her feet. “Land sakes, it’s past time supper was on the table. Agnes will be raising a ruckus.”
“I’ll do it, Mama. You sit and collect yourself.” Beth hurried from the room.
Lena Mae followed more slowly. “I’ve got to stay busy or I’ll worry myself sick about that ornery little man.”
Didn’t that beat all? Looked like Lena Mae was sweet on Ivan. Who’d ever have figured?
When supper was on the table and the other residents converging around it, Beth cornered Matt in the hall. “What will I do about Davey?”
“You call him in and I’ll slip out the back and take over. Tell him to take the rest of the night off.” He brushed a curl from her brow and replaced it with a kiss.
“Y—You shouldn’t do that.” But she didn’t move away.
“I know. Didn’t intend to.” He pulled her near and tucked her head under his chin. Dang, she smelled like roses, pot roast, and . . . home. He closed his eyes against the pain those memories recalled. “Can’t seem to help it.”
“Me either.” She burrowed her face against him.
Matt couldn’t let himself hope, couldn’t open himself to that kind of crushing loss again. He set Beth away from him. She deserved a hell of a lot more than he could offer.
Like a man who’d always be around when she needed him. She and Davey deserved someone who could protect them. He’d already proved he couldn’t protect a family.
“I’ll grab some bread and cheese on the way out and let you know what happens. About the time you put Davey to bed, could you light the lamp in my room? Then turn it out when you go to bed. Stay inside the house.” He strode away as if all the demons of hell pursued him. And they did.
Beth felt as if she’d been slapped. Matt had all but run away from her. Served her right for clinging to him. No, he’d held on to her at first as if he hadn’t wanted to release her and, Lord help her, she hadn’t wanted him to let her go. Ever. What had come over her?
And what caused the change in him? What old nemesis chased him? As far as she knew he hadn’t sought liquor since he’d been in Winton Crossing, so maybe he’d conquered that particular devil. Something almost as bad—or worse—nipped at his heels.
She walked to the front door and opened the screen. A hint of jasmine floated on the soft spring breeze and she saw lights in houses near theirs. Folks sat on their porches or strolled to take in the pleasant evening. Hard to believe Matt had stepped out the back door to trap some sort of ruffian. Harder to acknowledge that somewhere in the area kidnappers imprisoned a lonely old man.
Her son looked up and she wanted to clutch him to her to keep him safe from all the evils in the world. “Davey, come in to supper.”
Davey grabbed Tiger and stopped at the screen. He leaned near and whispered without taking his eyes off the livery. “Mama-a-a, Matt gave me a job.”
“And you did fine, son.” She stepped back to let him enter. “He’s taking over for the rest of the night so you can have supper and get some sleep.”
With a last glance over his shoulder at the livery stable, Davey came in. “When’s Matt gonna sleep?”
She’d wondered the same thing. “I don’t know, maybe in the morning. You can ask him when you see him.” Dear Lord, she hoped whatever Matt had involved himself in tonight went well.
Matt slipped down the river and across the road to hide in the shadows. He located a faint outline where Tom had said he’d station himself then set to the task of watching Oslo go about his business. Wasn’t hard, since Oslo was the least active stableman in the state. About the time Matt figured all the mosquitoes in the county had fed on his neck, he heard horses.
Damn. He’d hoped a lone man would come in so he and the sheriff could tackle Oslo and the messenger. Two men approached the stable with their horses at a walk. As if they didn’t want to be heard.
Matt moved closer. One of the men greeted Oslo. “So, what have you to report?” His accented speech labeled him as one of the men from the ranch.
Oslo sounded respectful as a rough man like him could muster. “Ain’t nothing happened since he come back. Reckon he’s asleep by now. Probably cozyin’ up next to that snotty bitch what helps her mama run the place.”
Matt wanted to bust Oslo’s mouth so he couldn’t say anything else bad against a fine woman. Instead, Matt turned to watch the sheriff’s approach. At a signal from Tom, he and Matt stepped into the stable with guns drawn.
“Stand where you are with your hands up.” Tom stepped into the lantern light.
The two men from the ranch whirled, both had guns in their holsters but neither drew. Oslo cowered behind them.
“Throw down your guns.” Matt kept his own guns trained on both men, who dropped their weapons. Oslo worried him. Matt couldn’t get a clear shot at the man if he chose to make trouble. He didn’t know if Oslo carried a gun.
Tom must have shared Matt’s concern. “Oslo, step to the side and throw down your gun.”
A shot rang out and the burn of a bullet hit Matt’s left shoulder, then another. Oslo backed out of the stable and raced for the captured men’s horses. The sheriff fired twice, but Matt heard the drum of hoof beats as Oslo rode away.
Matt braced himself against one of the posts that supported the loft. He held his ground and kept the two remaining men in his sights. “I’ve got them covered, Tom, you get Oslo.”
“Got at least one shot into him.” The sheriff turned, but ha
lted. “Lord Almighty, you’re bleeding like a fountain. Let’s get these two to jail and let Doc see to you. I’ll deal with Oslo later.”
The sheriff pulled out a couple of pairs of handcuffs and locked them on the two culprits. When they herded the men down the street toward the jail, Matt chanced a glance at the Phifers’ place.
Faces peered out the parlor window. He waved to show he could. and then trekked to the jail. His shoulder hurt like the devil and blood ran down his arm and dripped onto the ground. He hoped he didn’t pass out before he got to sit down.
At the jail, Matt slumped into a chair and used his handkerchief to press at his wounds. One of the shots had gone through but the other appeared lodged in his shoulder. Missed anything vital but he couldn’t stop the blood pumping out of him.
Neither of the men would give their names, but both carried letters and other papers in their pockets. Matt recalled enough of his grandfather’s native language to identify the men from their papers. The ruffians appeared to be two of the western-dressed soldiers Matt had seen at the ranch. With them locked in a cell, Tom ordered his deputy to take Matt to the doctor.
Tom yelled when Matt hesitated. “Go on. You’re so gray you’re scaring me. And you’re dripping blood all over the floor.”
The deputy took Matt by the arm and Matt welcomed the support. A few doors away, they reached the doctor’s home with his office at the front. The deputy waited until the doctor answered the door and he’d helped Matt onto a table, and then backed out.
“I’ll leave you here and go help Tom question those boys.”
Matt endured the sawbones’ rough treatment and turned down a drink to kill the pain. The way he hurt, the whole bottle wouldn’t be enough. When the doc poured whiskey on the wound, it stung so Matt couldn’t cuss for trying to get his breath. Pain, lost blood, and fumes combined to make him dizzy. Afterward, he struggled but couldn’t get his shirt and coat on.
The doctor put away his instruments and cleaned up, but kept an eye on Matt. “You lost a lot of blood, son. Better stay here for the night.”
“Folks are expecting me.” Damn, but it felt good to say that.
While the doctor protested, Matt put his shirt and jacket on his right shoulder with his left arm and injured shoulder free.
“Thanks, doc.” Matt stumbled toward the Phifers’ place.
He didn’t know how long it’d been since the fracas, but it seemed days. The boarding house’s downstairs lights beckoned like a beacon. He figured he had just enough steam left to make it inside. He stumbled on the steps but made it up to the porch. When he opened the door, Beth and Lena Mae waited, both swathed in dressing gowns. Beth rushed toward him, then stopped and sniffed.
Her smile of welcome turned to anger. “Drunk! You smell to high heaven of whiskey. I should have known you couldn’t leave it alone for long.” She turned and headed for the stairs.
He tried to protest, but all his fizz evaporated and he fell flat, too weak to stand any longer.
Lena Mae bent over him. “Land’s sakes, Beth, he’s hurt bad. Look at all the blood on his clothes and the bandage. You get back here this instant and help me get this man upstairs.”
Matt tried to rise, but his strength deserted him and he only made it onto his knees and right elbow with his rear in the air like a crawling baby. Dang, couldn’t he be spared a little of his dignity?
Beth knelt at his side and tugged at his good arm. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”
On his other side, Lena Mae pulled at his waist band. “We heard gunshots but you waved and walked away. We thought everyone was all right.”
He mumbled he’d be fine. Or maybe he only thought it, because neither woman responded. They helped him stand and he shrugged away Beth’s help to lunge for the newel post. Thank goodness it was on his good right side. He levered himself up the stairs with the banister rail.
Beth followed behind him pushing at his back. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Matt, I didn’t know.”
He recognized Lena Mae’s voice below them. “Beth, you get him to his room while I make him a stiff drink.”
He half turned so he saw Lena Mae at the foot of the stairs and Beth on the step below him. In spite of the dizziness from looking down, he ordered, “Tea. Sugar. Lots of sugar.”
He navigated the rest of the steps. At the top, he turned toward his room and wished he’d taken Beth up on Miss Pounds’ vacancy. Dadblamed hall had grown to a mile long.
Beth scooped his good arm over her shoulder and guided him to Ivan’s room. His room now. She threw back the cover as she released him.
He sprawled face down onto the bed. The sheet cooled his cheek and the mattress welcomed his aching body. He heard himself exhale in a big sigh. Blessed relief.
She moved the lamp from the window to the bedside table. “Come on, Matt, help me get this coat and shirt off the rest of the way.” Beth pulled at his clothing and he let her. She tossed the garments aside. “Now, feet on the bed.”
She swung his legs onto the mattress but he couldn’t help.
“Turn over.” It took all his effort but he rolled over. She grabbed a boot and tugged it off, and then removed the second one.
He waited to see what she’d do about his britches, but she did nothing. She stood looking down at his bandaged shoulder and touched the bandage with a fingertip.
“You’re still bleeding.”
Lena Mae came in with a mug in her hands. “Land’s sakes, you scared me out of ten years.” She set it on the bedside table and helped Beth raise his head with pillows. Then, Lena Mae stood near the foot of the bed. “I put plenty of sugar in like you said.”
“Thanks, I can handle it from here.” At least, he’d thought he could. But when he reached for the tea, his hand shook so he feared he’d drop the mug.
“Let me help.” Beth pushed his hand aside. “Mama, I see how swollen your feet are. You go to bed this minute.”
“Now that I see Matt’s safe, I believe I will.” She gave Matt’s foot a pat. “You sleep late in the morning, and we’ll bring your breakfast up here when you wake up.”
Imagine that? Thank the Lord he hadn’t stayed at the cramped doctor’s office like the doc suggested. Better to be catered to by these two women while he lay abed.
Beth held his head and fed him tea so sweet he almost gagged.
He pushed her hand away. “Enough. Lena Mae ladled in enough sugar for ten cups.”
“You drank most of it anyway. It should help you. In the morning I’ll bring you some beef, with molasses for your biscuits to rebuild your blood.”
“Nice.” He held her hand to his chest.
She tugged free. “You need sleep.” She turned out the lamp then came back to pull the sheet over him. Light from a full moon poured in the window to outline her. “I folded the quilt back so that if it turns cool toward morning you only have to pull the edge and it will slide right up.”
“Beth?”
“Yes?” She set his boots beside the bed and hung his shirt and jacket on the chair back.
“Please…don’t go yet.” He didn’t deserve it he knew, but he needed her near him. He’d made an error tonight and almost died because of it. Knowing it was mostly his own fault didn’t ease the pain or make the experience any less frightening.
She reached for the chair. “Well, I guess I could sit with you a while.”
“I mean stay.” He patted the bed. “Here. Just for tonight.”
“Matt, what will people think? It’s not proper, even if you’re injured.”
“Who’ll know…or care? I’m wearing my britches and you’re all bundled up. I’m so stove up I can barely move.” He must have lost his mind. Sounded like he begged.
“I-I guess I could sit a bit. Maybe you could tell me about Lionel?”
“Not now. Shut the door and stay beside me.”
Just this once he wanted to experience being in a real home with a good woman. A sample of how life should be, something he could
take with him to savor on all the lonely nights to come. He closed his eyes and prayed.
Lord, give me one night and I’ll never ask another thing.
The soft click of the door sent his eyelids open. Had he disgusted or insulted her so she left the room? No, she padded silently around the bed and slid beside him.
Thank you, God.
“Matt? I’m sorry I yelled at you because I thought you’d been drinking.” She laid her hand on his arm.
“S’all right.” He moved her arm to his chest and exhaled. “Good. You’re here, I feel better now.”
She nestled her head against his shoulder. “Then go to sleep.”
“Beth?”
She raised her head. The moonlight played across her skin and reflected in shades of silver and gold on her hair. “What now.”
“I always thought you were beautiful, but the moonlight makes you even prettier.” He skimmed his hand up her arm. “Kiss me goodnight.”
“Matt Petrov, you are not only the nerviest man, you’re plain out of your head. Go to sleep.”
He pulled her to him and claimed her lips. Softly, so he didn’t scare her. After her treatment from Jeffers, he figured she’d be skittish. She resisted for an instant then leaned into him. He deepened the kiss and she parted her lips for him.
Sweet heaven, he’d never known a more satisfying kiss. He tugged her until she stretched along his body.
When she broke the kiss, she moved her legs back to the mattress but laid her head on his chest. “Why’d you do that?”
“Needed to. For six years. Can’t say I’m proud of wanting you when you belonged to another man, but I won’t deny I thought about you.”
He felt her shudder with sobs, her tears ran wet on his chest. Caressing her back, he cursed himself for as big a fool as Jeffers. “Beth? Aw, honey, I didn’t aim to make you cry. Forgive me. I’d never willingly do anything to hurt you.”
“You didn’t. Matt, I’m ashamed. I hated the person I was when I knew you before. You saw me weak and abused. Heard Lionel yell awful things at me. When you came here, I was mean to you because you’d known me then. I didn’t want to be reminded of those times.”