Leather and Lace

Chapter 15

When the dishes were washed and the kitchen tidy, Bonnie and Casey walked toward the pasture where the horses grazed. The hot sun beat down on their sunbonnets, making Casey’s head much too warm. For a moment, she considered tossing it aside, but her face was already brown from the sun. According to Rose, ladies were supposed to have milk-white skin.

She picked up the unmistakable smell of horses, and a longing to ride free tugged at her heart. If there was ever anything she missed about the past, it was riding as fast as the wind and breathing in nature.

Bonnie talked incessantly, first about poor Sarah and her illness, then on to the topic of the women at church. Only at Rose’s place had she ever heard one woman talk so much. Casey always thought those girls talked so much because they were lonely.

Casey wanted to ask what had happened to Morgan’s wife, but the right words never seemed to form. Perhaps she’d see a family cemetery while they were here, but even that wouldn’t tell her how the woman died.

“Don’t you think Sheriff Kahler is handsome with his black hair and all?” Bonnie said.

Hard to think of a man being handsome when you’re afraid of him. “I hadn’t time to think about it.”

“I really wanted him to join us today. He and Morgan are old friends, which still left us plenty of time together.”

An invisible knife twisted in the pit of her stomach. She felt as though she were at the top of a cliff and had to find a way down. “Are you and the sheriff courting?”

“Not really. Ben wanted Morgan’s permission, but he hasn’t been around. But Mama says Morgan’s changed and wants to talk to Grant and me. My dear Shawne, our oldest brother chases away every man who looks this direction.” Bonnie attempted to sound light, but frustration laced her words.

“What does he do, run them off with a shotgun?”

“Almost. He’s . . . oh, very protective. Seriously, he loves us all. I’m sure of it. He simply has a difficult time showing it.” She shielded her eyes from the sun.

Bonnie stopped to gather a bouquet of daisies. Not far away, horses grazed. They lifted their noble heads, shook off a few pesky flies, and promptly ignored Casey and Bonnie.

“What are you looking for in a husband?” Bonnie gave Casey a sparkling smile.

She pondered the question. She wanted to keep the mood light, but she saw Morgan’s face, heard his voice, and recalled his rugged features. Then she remembered her past and the unanswered questions about him.

“I’m not looking, but all teasing aside, I’d like to have a man who’s my friend. I’d want him to lean on me when he has a problem, and I’d go to him with any problem. I want a man who will love me and make it a pleasure to keep his house and bear his children. Above all, he has to love God.” The latter was a new addition to her list but very important.

Bonnie tucked an errant blond lock behind her ear. “When you find him, see if he has a brother. How did you meet Morgan?”

The sound of horse hooves shattered any answer Casey might have formed as a rider galloped toward them. Behind him two others rode slowly. Bonnie studied the approaching men. Her face suddenly blanched. Casey saw the alarm, and a thousand fears flashed through her mind. “What’s the matter?”

“One of those men has been hurt.” Bonnie gasped.

The first man pulled his heaving mount to a quick stop. “A bull got Rafael. Gotta get the wagon.” He spurred his horse on to a dead run.

Casey stared at the two other riders lagging behind. One man hunched over his saddle. She picked up her skirts and raced toward them. Already she could see red staining his shirt. “Hurry, Bonnie. We need to help.”

“I can’t,” Bonnie replied in a near whimper. “The blood—I can’t stand the blood.”

Casey ignored her. Only the injured man occupied her thoughts. The bull had gored him through his shirt and vest. She’d seen enough knife wounds to know how quickly a man could bleed to death. His head lay on his chest. One of his arms dangled alongside the horse’s neck, and another clutched his pierced side. Blood oozed through his fingers and dribbled down over his shirt and chaps. The second rider held the injured man’s reins.

“Let me help. He’s bleeding way too much,” she said. The two lifted him from his horse and onto the ground.

He moaned and struggled to breathe. How often had she heard the anguish of wounded men? His hand slipped aside, and she instantly covered the puncture with her hand. “We’ve got to stop the bleeding.”

She glanced about. Bonnie stood at a distance, quaking at the sight. “Bonnie, rip a strip of my petticoat for a bandage.”

Bonnie shook her head.

Casey wanted to scream at her, call her a coward. “Bonnie, please!”

Still, she refused to budge.

Casey stared into the face of the Mexican man kneeling beside her. Jocelyn had introduced him earlier during the noon meal as Jesse. “I need your help.”

“What do I do?”

“Tear my petticoat into a long enough strip to go around him at least once.” She turned her attention back to Rafael, not once giving Jesse an opportunity to refuse.

“Gracias, senorita, for helping my young friend.”

Rafael’s boyish face twisted in pain. “You’re going to be just fine,” she said in Spanish. “What did you say to make that bull so mad?”

Rafael attempted a feeble smile. Casey lifted her blood-soaked hand and placed the makeshift bandage over the wound. “Can you lift him?” she said to Jesse.

Wordlessly, he obliged. She slipped the cloth under and around Rafael’s chest, covering the puncture. Thankfully, his slight frame permitted her to double the remaining portion of the bandage over the wound. Already, the bandage seeped red.

Gratitude radiated from Rafael’s dark eyes, and Casey grasped his hand, knowing the touch of another often gave hope. “I will pray for you,” she said.

A rider raced toward them.

“Senor Grant,” Jesse said. “He help us.”

Casey heard the respect in the man’s voice. She realized he considered Grant an equal, not a boy.

Soon Grant kneeled at the injured man’s side. He spoke to Rafael in Spanish and reassured him that a rider had gone to fetch the wagon. “You bandaged him?” Grant said, then glanced at her. “Of course you did. You have blood all over you.” He peered up at her. “I wonder if I should carry him. The jostling of the wagon might do more harm than good.”

“Can you manage?”

“He’s small, wiry. I could at least meet the wagon midway. Better than sitting here doing nothing.” Grant bent to examine the bandage before picking him up. “Looks good and tight. Jesse, would you bring back my horse?”

“Sí,” he replied.

Grant swung a gaze over his shoulder. “Thank you, Shawne. You probably saved Rafael’s life. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She glanced ahead several feet to Bonnie, who hadn’t taken a step since the ordeal began. “Your sister’s not well, though.”

Grant hoisted the man into his arms. “She can’t tolerate anything.” His voice echoed in disgust. “Can’t depend on her at all.” The rumblings of a wagon came from the distance. “Guess I won’t have to tote him far.”

“I’ll take care of Bonnie.” Casey wiped some of the blood from her hands onto the grass, then stood and ventured toward Bonnie. The stains on her dress would have to stay until she got back to the parsonage.

Bonnie’s lips quivered, and she glanced beyond Casey’s face. “Will he live?”

“I believe so,” Casey said. “Although he’s lost a lot of blood. Take a few deep breaths until you feel better.” God, help me. I’d like to slap her, and I know that’s not the way You want me to be.

“I’m sorry. I simply couldn’t move.” Bonnie wrung her hands. “How ever did you take care of him?”

“Comes natural, I think. Are you able to walk back?”

Bonnie nodded and avoided Casey’s scrutiny. “Usually I faint, but this time I didn’t look at what was going on.” She broke into sobs. “Oh Shawne, if left to me, poor Rafael would have died. Mama will be so angry and disappointed. I am so weak—and the rest of the family will be frightfully upset with me.”

At the sight of Bonnie’s tears, Casey’s heart softened. She had no right to judge the younger woman’s reaction to the injury. What if Bonnie knew the life she’d led with a gang of outlaws? “Some folks handle things differently than others.”

Bonnie lifted her dainty chin. “I’ll tell Mama about what happened. Not that she’ll be surprised.”

The two walked back to the house in silence. Obviously the sight of blood still shook Bonnie, for she quietly wept. How odd for a girl who grew up on a ranch to become so upset over a little blood.

At the house, Bonnie told the story to her mother word for word, leaving out nothing. Casey listened with no desire to add any of her own reflections. Later, after Jocelyn had tended to the wounds and Grant had rode after the doctor, Jocelyn pulled Casey aside.

“Thanks for what you did out there.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

“I believe Rafael will be all right. Frankly, my daughter worries me. Do you know what I’d have done?”

Casey eyed the woman squarely.

“I’d have made her help whether she wanted to or not. That boy could have died.”

She nodded, knowing well what Jocelyn meant. Managing a ranch the size of the Double H and rearing Bonnie and Grant took a strong woman. Casey wanted to be just like her. For a moment she wondered if Morgan wanted that kind of woman too.

*****

On Monday morning, Morgan rode into town to see Ben Kahler. He hadn’t heard about Rafael’s injury until late Sunday afternoon. Pride nearly caused him to explode with what Casey had done. The praises from his family and Jesse fortified his belief in her ability to live a life free from those who wanted her dead. He regretted not telling her himself, but by the time he returned from the cabin, she’d elected to ride into town with Grant and Rafael to meet the doctor, who had been out on another case. That’s my Casey, tending to those who are hurt.

Now, as he made his way down the streets to Ben Kahler’s office, he deliberated how to handle seeing his old friend. Amends needed to be made with Ben, but Morgan also needed to find out about the Jenkins gang. Using friendship to help Casey ground at his resolve to live for the Lord.

He tied Twister to the hitching post and glanced around at the town. If Jenkins discovered Casey was here, he’d tear the place apart. Innocent people would lie dead in the streets, people he knew and cared for. Whether Casey agreed with him or not, Morgan intended to start working on her case. He no more believed she was guilty of all the crimes credited to her name than he doubted God’s hand in bringing the two of them back together.

Stepping into Ben’s office, he found his friend at a clean desk, reading a newspaper.

“Is this town so quiet that you have to find things to keep busy?” Morgan said. “Your desk is clean except for that stack of wanted posters.”

Ben dropped the paper, and a wide grin spread across his face. He stood and grabbed Morgan’s hand. “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday you were heading into town? We could have gone fishing.”

“I’m right. Kahlerville is much too tame for you. Of course, the folks here owe that to you.”

“I think a few other folks had a hand in it, too. Sit down. How long are you home?”

“Permanently. I left the old Morgan behind.”

“So seeing you in church yesterday wasn’t to please your mother?”

“Nope. Me and the Lord are back on speaking terms, or rather I started listening.”

“Good. I’m glad, real glad.”

“Well, Sheriff Kahler, I have a question for you.”

Ben raised a brow. “Fishing? Hunting? You name it.”

Morgan laughed. “Are your intentions honorable when it comes to my sister?”

His face reddened. “How’d you know?”

“I’m a lawyer, remember? I’m supposed to look for signs of guilt. And by the way you two were eyeing each other yesterday, I doubt if either of you could recall the sermon.”

“Guilty. And, yes, I have honorable intentions. I want to come calling on Bonnie.”

“You didn’t need my permission. We’ve always been like brothers. Couldn’t think of a better man to come courtin’.”

“Thanks. I might just ride over your way tonight. Want to head over to the boardinghouse for some coffee, catch up on old times?”

“Sure, but first I want to know if you’ve heard anything about Jenkins and his bunch. I may be finished chasing after him, but he still needs to face a judge.”

Ben nodded. “I read everything I can get my hands on about that gang. The last I heard he was spending most of his time looking for his woman.”

“I heard she left him. Can’t blame her.”

“She has a price on her head, too. I’d like to get both of them.”

“I’d rather find him.”

Ben shrugged. “And I’d like to be the one to catch the whole gang. You know, I found myself studying every redheaded woman in this town. I even took a second look at Miss Flanagan, the woman who’s taking care of the reverend’s wife. Makes me ashamed of myself.”

“You’re just wanting to be the lawman who ends the Jenkins gang. You probably want a dime novel written about you.” Morgan forced a laugh while his insides churned.

Ben leaned across his desk. “It has crossed my mind.”