Leather and Lace

Chapter 6

A chill raced up Casey’s spine. She closed Doc’s Bible and again ran her fingers across the rough binding. Morgan might have died. She’d viewed dead men before, men she’d grown to care for, and she could do it again. Rising to her feet, she laid the Bible on the chair.

“Casey.” Doc’s tone was urgent.

“I’m coming.” She hated her reaction to Morgan, a man she barely knew. He even admitted to using her. But the bullets in his body spoke of something else. Only one other man had ever made her feel that way, and he was dead.

Her boots clicked across the wooden floor to Doc’s side. He smiled. “Morgan wants to talk to you.”

His eyes were open, but his pallor shook her senses as though she looked into the face of a dead man.

“You’re alive.” She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

His eyelids fluttered, but he managed a slight grin. “You crazy girl. How did you get me here?”

She wondered where he found the strength to speak. “Made a travois and tied you to it. I’ve done easier things, but I was too stubborn to let you die.”

He wet his lips. “I wanted . . . to.”

“Oh, I remember.” Her whole body relaxed. “You begged me to leave you.”

A twinge of pain swept across his face, and he gasped at its severity. “I . . . bet I did. I—I feel like I fell over a cliff and bounced all the way down.”

Casey touched her finger to his lips. “Please, you’re too weak to waste your time on words. Rest, and do what Doc says.”

“She’s right.” Doc’s gruffness layered every word. “I’m going to let Casey spoon-feed you some clear soup and have you take a dose of laudanum, but understand it’s gonna take time to get you back on your feet again. You’re one lucky—”

A pounding at the door stopped Doc’s orders in midair. Without a word, Casey hurried into the kitchen. Her body quivered as she snatched up her drying clothes and coffee mug before scurrying back into the room with Morgan. She stuffed the items, along with her rifle, under the bed. In seconds, she had her gun belt strapped to her waist and the Colt in her hand. Doc took the bowl of broth and eased the door shut. Shadows closed in around her. Again the hammering against the door thundered in her ears, and she heard a haunting voice.

“Open up, Doc.”

Her heart hammered against her chest until she feared Tim might hear.

She stole across the room and waited. The idea of shooting her own brother sickened her, but she could threaten.

Her gaze flew to Morgan, who peered at her through the narrowed slits of his eyes. Tim would pump one bullet after another into him. She stepped across the room and covered his head.

“Doc, if you’re in there, open up.”

“Who’s there?” Doc said, and Casey realized he searched for any traces of what might have been left behind.

“Tim O’Hare.”

“What’s the problem?”

The front door creaked open.

“Jenkins got a bullet in his leg, and it’s busted. The bone’s sticking out. Hurting him powerful bad.” Tim sounded tired, and that meant a short temper.

“Where is he?”

“Outside of town, about two hours’ ride from here. I tried bringing him in, but he’s carrying on like a madman.”

The familiar agitation in her brother’s words caused her to shudder. He couldn’t be trusted when he was riled.

“Just let me get my bag and pack a few things.”

“Make it fast. I’m tired of hearing Jenkins bellyache.”

Doc must have lifted his black medical bag onto the table. From the sound of clinking bottles, she assumed he was rummaging through its contents.

“I have splints and bandages, but I need to get extra laudanum from my bedroom,” he said.

Casey cringed at the thought of the painkiller on Doc’s dresser. Normally it would be in the other room where he treated folks. Would Tim suspect anything? She backed behind the door. Her hand wrapped around the handle of the Colt. Odd how something she knew so well could be what she despised the most. Her palm rested on the butt, worn by use.

Doc opened the door, and Tim’s tall silhouette cast an eerie shadow across the wooden planks. Even in the dimly lit room, Morgan’s body could be clearly seen.

“Who’s your patient, Doc?” Tim said.

“She isn’t a patient. I do have a personal life.”

“Well, I’ll be.” Tim said with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “Excuse me, ma’am.”

Doc rummaged through the medicinal items on his dresser. “I’ll be back in a few hours, honey.” He leaned over Morgan’s covered head and planted a kiss atop the blanket, then turned to Tim. “Does Jenkins appear to have an infection?”

He shook his head. “Cut real bad, but nothing festerin’. Say, have you seen my sister?”

“Casey? Why? Did you send her to fetch me?”

“Naw. She lit out and is traveling with some man. He got himself hurt, so I figured they’d have headed here.” Tim leaned on one leg. How well she knew the stance. “ ’Course he might have died.”

“True. Check the undertaker or the saloons. I heard quite a bit of commotion last night.” Doc walked toward the open door. “I need to saddle up my horse.”

Casey held her breath. She recalled Doc’s earlier request to stable her and Morgan’s horses in an empty shed across the way. Thank you.

The front door squeaked shut with the same grating irritation as when it opened. A moment later, the only sound came from a clock ticking on the dresser. Time. Doc had bought her time.

As much as she wanted to leave Vernal, Morgan needed tending until Doc returned. After latching the front door, Casey carried the rocker from the kitchen to Morgan’s bedside and then gently uncovered his head. She contemplated whether to light the kerosene lamp. After much deliberation, she set a faintly lit lamp on the floor beside the bed and hoped no one could see the light through the shade covering the single window. Wrapping a quilt around her shoulders, she eased into the rocker and watched Morgan’s face for signs of distress.

The longer she sat, the wearier she became. Sore tired, she labeled it. Every part of her body ached, even after the hours she’d slept the previous night. Sometimes she thought she could sleep for days. But not now.

I need to sort things out . . . figure out where to go, what to do.

No matter how she looked at the situation, staying in Vernal invited trouble. Each moment she lingered became a death threat for Morgan and Doc. The truth, plain and simple, echoed silently throughout the room. She’d seen enough men die in her day, and she vowed not one more grave would be dug for her sake. She knew little about Morgan, but he’d earned her respect. She’d gone over these things before. No point wasting breath to figure another way out of this mess or the answers to the questions about Morgan.

Casey touched his forehead. No fever. He rested so easily, peacefully. A smile tugged at her lips. She eased back into the rocker and laid the quilt over her lap. Soon her body gave in to sleep.

*****

The next morning at daybreak, Casey awoke with a start. Her intentions of keeping a vigil for Morgan had vanished when she’d succumbed to sleep. Standing, she opened the bedroom door to let in a shaft of early morning light. Doc snored in the next room.

Quietly, she placed wood in the cookstove and made coffee. Before the town came to life, she’d be gone. A short while later, she sat in the rocker beside Morgan’s bed and nursed a hot cup of coffee. A bit of sadness settled on her at the thought of leaving Morgan and Doc. She shook her head. Nonsense notions.

Casey studied Morgan’s bearded face while he slept. Many a lonely night lay ahead when she would want to recall his every line and feature. Amber hair hung to his shoulders, with a touch of curl to the ends that softened his rugged looks. Wiry, knotted sideburns were trimmed somewhat even, as though he disciplined himself to keep a part of civilization alive. Tightly twisted eyebrows capped his deep-set eyes, which now sank back into his head, leaving a cavernous pit below them. No matter that they were closed. She’d always remember the intensity of his turquoise eyes.

“Those circles could bury a man.” Now she knew what Doc meant.

She wanted to stroke Morgan’s cheek, to feel the coolness of his skin just once before he opened his eyes. Yet how would she explain her foolishness if he awoke? Doc praised him as a good man, but those words didn’t necessarily mean Morgan was good for her.

Casey turned and cautiously slipped her fingers through the side of the window shade to view the outside world. The sun’s announcement of morning cast an orange tint to the area around her—not quite real, as though she could relax for a moment. Perhaps the town looked more ordinary than sinister, without any signs of lawless men. Of course, all of them were sleeping away the previous night’s activities. She heard a stirring and glanced back to see Morgan watching her.

“What’s going on?” he said.

“Nothing. It’s quiet out there.” She stepped closer to his side.

“Too bad we’re hiding. We could lift the shades and let in some light.”

“I have a feeling most of Doc’s patients are lying low from somebody.”

“True, but this room is like a tomb.”

“A safe cave,” she said.

He attempted to move his arms and groaned.

“Lie still, or you’ll start bleeding.” Casey set her coffee on the dresser and adjusted the blanket around his neck.

When he tried to raise his arms again, she pinned them to his side. “Don’t try to move, or I’ll tie you to this bed.”

“I think you tried that before.”

“And I managed just fine, didn’t I?”

He glared up at her. “Tough lady, aren’t you?”

“Don’t rile me. This lady packs a gun.”

“And I’m in no shape to fight.” He took a labored breath. “Has Doc said how long I’ll be laid up?”

She crossed her arms. “You won’t like this. He told me yesterday that it’ll take at least a month.”

“A month. He’s crazy. I have things to do.” He started to lift himself up again, but his face registered a stab of pain.

Her temper flared like a spark took to kindling. “You nearly died, and the hole in your chest is going to take awhile to heal. Doc doesn’t need to stitch you up again, and I won’t be here to nurse you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have to leave before the morning’s out. It’s only a matter of time before Jenkins catches up with me. He’s already got men out looking. Don’t imagine he’d be real happy with Doc tending to you or hiding me. The longer I stay here, the more dangerous it is for both of you.” She turned her attention to the outside, fully suspecting Jenkins’s men to be armed and keeping a watchful eye on Doc’s house. I’m so tired of this.

“Use your head, girl. You can’t ride out alone. As soon as I’m able, we’ll go together.”

She shook her head and stubbornly kept her focus on the empty street. Tears threatened to spill over her cheeks, but she swallowed them instead. Tears were for weak females, not hardened women. “I’ve made up my mind.”

“What can I say to change it?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t want to lose you to Jenkins’s vengeance.” He coughed, and she spun around to see if there was blood. She saw nothing.

An awkward silence rose between them, and she turned back to the window. If only she could believe him. She must be more of a fool than she thought. “There’ll be plenty of opportunities for you to find Jenkins. Besides, looks like you slowed him down for quite a spell.”

“I did get him.”

She nodded. “One of his legs is broke and has a hole in it. You can catch him all by yourself. Don’t need me at all. Both of you will be getting around about the same time.”

“Jenkins isn’t what I’m afraid of losing.”

“You’re not making sense.” Her heart pounded.

“Of course I am, and you know it.”

“I won’t risk your life or anyone’s ever again,” she said. “The past is over. I left it in the mountains. Staying here with you and Doc is clearly selfish.”

“Look at me and not that blasted street.” For a weak man, Morgan had no problem spitting out his words. “Even if I asked you to stay with me?”

She didn’t dare turn around. “It’s impossible. It’s stupid.”

“Where are you heading? Jenkins might have the roads blocked.”

She paced the length of his bed. Only a fool would share such plans. “I don’t know.”

“Arizona, Mexico, California?”

Casey met his dour temperament with all the determination she could muster. “If I did know, I’d keep it to myself. It’s best we part and you not know my whereabouts.”

“That is the most illogical statement I’ve ever heard.” Morgan’s pale face reddened.

Their disagreement built a wall between them. At a loss for words, she stared emotionlessly above his head, a trait she’d practiced for years. Don’t feel. Soon you’ll forget.

“You’re being bullheaded about this. I’ll not let you leave without me! Do you understand?” Morgan attempted to pull up from the pillow, but instead he gasped for air.

She forced herself not to tend to him. “I’m leaving, and nothing you can say or do will stop me.” Although she meant the words to sound sharp, tenderness laced them like a fine lady’s handkerchief against rough, calloused skin.

“Your stubbornness is going to get you killed,” he managed through clenched teeth. “Or worse.”

“There’s nothing worse than being killed.” She stepped back. Touching him battled with her good sense.

“Yes, there is. As a woman, you know exactly what I mean.”

She chose not to answer him until she won control over her emotions. “Morgan, you can heal without me. I’d just get jumpy and irritable over every little noise.” She tapped her fingers on the iron bed frame.

The lines deepened across his brow. Any other man would have passed out with the arguing. “How many men can you trust before you get to where you’re going?”

“Probably none.”

“So who’s going to help you?”

“I don’t need anyone.”

Neither of them spoke for several long moments. “How will I know if you’re all right?” His tone softened as though he’d accepted her plans.

She took a deep breath. “I need to write Doc about some things. He’ll let you know I’m all right. Please rest, and I’ll wake you before I leave.”

“That’s real nice of you, Casey. Me and Doc will have a party.”

She shoved aside her fragile feelings and left him.

“I’m not done talking yet.”

She kept right on walking. If she stopped, she’d lose sight of what really mattered. Odds were she’d never see him again anyway. Earlier that morning she’d mentally pieced together a southern route to Robber’s Roost. From there, she’d decide which way to go.

Once she readied her gelding, Doc joined her. “Jenkins was mad and drunk last night. By the time I set his leg and dug out that bullet, he was madder and drunker. He upped the reward on you, then dared the rest of his gang to go after it. None of his men are going to waste any time getting here,” Doc said. “Your leaving is against my better judgment, but you face more danger by staying in Vernal. You be careful.” Doc yanked on the girth. “I’ll be praying for God to guide and protect you. Run on in and tell Morgan good-bye.”

Inside the house, she took one last glance at the tidy kitchen, the clean table, and the absence of a woman. She remembered Doc’s offer to marry her. He would, too. She didn’t doubt it for a minute, but the idea of a man putting up with her past was too much for her to think on. And what kind of a mother would she make?

At the sight of Morgan sleeping, she considered leaving without saying good-bye. She hesitated, then touched his shoulder. As he slowly opened his eyes, she smiled with years of regret tugging at her heart. Uncomfortable with their farewell, she stood with her hands behind her back, her revolvers strapped to her hips.

“You’re much prettier when you smile.” Morgan managed a weak grin.

“I’m leaving now.”

“What about us?” he said. “Do you want to walk away from what started in the mountains?”

“I’m getting away from Jenkins. No need to worry about me.” She shifted from one foot to another.

“You’re escaping from him, but are you also running from me? Believe me, I know there’s something between us, Casey. And you can’t deny it, either.”

She swallowed hard. Something in the back of her mind shouted bounty hunter. It made sense, too. “Don’t do this. Don’t confuse me.” She took a step back toward the door. “I’m going to forget about you. My life is heading in a different direction, and I’m doing what I feel is right for everyone.”

“What is good and right is the two of us finding out what happened in the mountains.” His words were stronger, or perhaps his returning strength bolted behind them.

She shook her head. “You must be getting a fever, ’cause you’re talking out of your head. When you’re better, you’ll see I’ve made the right decision. I haven’t forgotten what you did for me or that you entered my camp to use me for bait. It won’t take long for you to remember those motives and what drove you into the mountains in the first place.” Her words ended abruptly, for Doc stepped in from the outside. “Good-bye, Morgan.”

“God be with you” echoed in her ears.