"No!" Doc stepped forward. "You cannot use that hand!"
Brandon glared up at him, his anger sparking for a moment. But at the concern in the older man's face, it evaporated. He sighed, wincing. "I'm not used to – depending on other people, Doc. Not for anything."
Doc cast a quick glance at the door, reaching to push it completely shut. "I've got something I want to say to you."
"A secret?" Brandon extended his leg as Doc bent to pull off his left boot. "This house is full of 'em, it seems."
Doc pulled the right boot, setting them side by side before bending a harsh look on Brandon. "I'll get right to the point. That – that snake is trying to make Allie marry him."
"You're talkin' 'bout Arnie, I take it?" Brandon turned carefully, stretching his legs down the length of the bed.
"Hell, yes, I'm talkin' 'bout Arnie." Doc squinted over his glasses at Brandon.
"Well…that isn't gonna happen."
"Ah, you don't understand! It's the only way out of this mess – especially now!"
"Now? 'Now' that Allie's shot up his leg savin' my ass?"
Doc raked his hand across his balding head. "Unless she – was to marry someone else."
Brandon shifted, wincing as the bullet hole in his side protested. Doc stepped close, pulling the chair near the bed and began to unwrap the bandaging. "Allie'll shoot me too, for telling you this," he said in a low voice. "I don't know how else to stop it, though."
"Suppose you just spill it, Doc – and let me figure it out."
Doc sighed. "Allie bought this place out from under Arnie Smith. He'd had his eye on it, because of the water rights and the way the ranch is situated between Spring Branch and Hobart. He waltzed in to lay his money down, but Allie had bought it just the day before. Well, he could scarce believe it! Made him mad, at first, her bein' a newcomer an' all. But then, when he rode out to meet her—" Doc broke off.
Brandon thought of the expressive green velvet of her eyes, the pert nose, the kissable, full lips, and his throat went dry. "He was never the same – right?" Who would be, once they'd laid eyes on her?
Doc nodded, and wet a piece of gauze with some peroxide. "Right." He began to clean the oozing wound gently. "He was crazy over her. Wanted to marry her right then and there, but for one small problem."
Brandon chuckled. "Jay?"
Doc shook his head. "Suck it up a minute, Brandon. I've got to apply some pressure – get this bleeding stopped."
A flash of jagged pain lanced through Brandon's side as Doc pressed the gauze against the wound.
"He hated that boy from the moment he saw him," Doc continued. He glanced at Brandon, easing the pressure minimally. "Sorry, son."
Brandon waved him off. "Because Jay's Indian? Or just because he existed?"
Doc gave a short laugh. "Both, I guess." His expression turned wary. "Now, Allie, she's got this idea of making this place into a working ranch – and an orphans' home. She's hell bent to do it – bring in a bunch of boys, orphans all, and set them to runnin' cattle."
A working ranch run by orphans? So that's what Jay had meant. So like Allie to come up with a plan—
"Doc—" Brandon gasped as the older man's fingers pressed a little too heavily again.
"Sorry, son." Doc removed the gauze, flinging it into the nearby waste can with a gesture of undisguised disgust at the topic. "This whole idea of hers has the town on edge. Smith's redoubled his efforts to marry her, to gain control of this place and – of her." Doc looked over his glasses at Brandon, then reached for the salve. "Allie is not a female to be controlled. Certainly not by the likes of Arnold James Smith. She has held out against him for the past four years. Just don't know how much longer she'll be able to hold onto her independence…now that everything's happened like it has."
"When are these cattle and orphans supposed to arrive? Any idea?"
Doc recapped the salve and put it in his bag, then met Brandon's dark scrutiny. "Those boys'll be here inside this week. The cattle, by the end of the month. You're going to have to heal fast and work quick, Brandon. I don't know what Smith will do, but we both know what he's capable of. This is a matter of life or death. Literally."
****
At the soft knock on the bedroom door, Doc looked away from Brandon. "Come in!" he barked.
Jay pulled the door open a crack.
"Well, come on in, Jay. I'm just gathering everything up to leave."
"I saddled Ol' Rooster up for you, Doc." Jay came into the bedroom, the box with the checkerboard and checkers under his arm. Shyly, he set it down beside the bed.
"Thank you, son. I appreciate that, and so does Ol' Rooster." He chuckled. "You have a gentler hand with horseflesh than I do. Ol' Rooster, he always seems to step livelier when you've taken care of him."
Jay grinned, his small chest expanding with pride. "I – like horses," he said, and Doc reached to pat his shoulder.
"He'll be glad to get back here tonight, Ol' Rooster will."