Buell's lips drew up in a tobacco-stained snarl that passed for a smile. "Ain't got none. Ain't got nuttin' but what they got on. Bunch a dirty little beggars—"
"That's enough from you, Mr. Buell," Doc told him coldly. He was aware that the boys were gathering close to him, putting him between themselves and Buell. He glanced around at the uncertain faces. "Is this all of them?"
Buell shrugged. "Whaddaya care? If some of 'em runs off, that won't hurt Mrs. Taylor's feelin's none, I don't imagine."
Doc looked at him, disgusted. "You're quite wrong, sir." He drew himself up. "Mrs. Taylor is a kind person. She wouldn't want any of these boys to – be lost."
Buell turned to walk away. "That's your problem now, Doctor. Eighty-five dollars worth of problem. Fix it however you can."
Doc watched him, suddenly realizing his intent. "The wagon stays," Doc called after him. Buell stopped, turning slowly to look at him.
"That weren't part of the deal."
"How do you expect these boys to travel the rest of the distance?"
"I don't care. It ain't my—"
"The wagon stays."
"We'll walk," one of the boys muttered from behind him.
Doc held up a hand for silence.
Finally, Buell gave a nod. Snatching his hat from his head, he slapped it against his thigh. "All right, dammit. Keep the wagon. Take the little bas—"
"Enough!" Doc thundered, stopping Buell mid-word. He turned his back on Buell, facing the boys. The two oldest were much more than fourteen. He met the defiant silver stare of the boy who'd spoken up earlier. "Is everyone here?" he asked kindly.
The boy looked around, then nodded. "Looks that way."
Doc nodded toward the hotel. "Let's go find you boys a meal and a bath." He started toward the hotel, but the boys didn't move. They stood in a wary half-circle, eyeing him as he walked away. He turned to look back at them. "What's wrong?" He motioned for them to follow. "Come on, let's go eat—"
The older boy with the odd mercurial gaze stepped forward. "To tell you the truth, Doctor, we ain't too trusting of anyone." He glanced at where Buell stood, just inside the stable door. "You head off over to the hotel, we're gonna be walkin' the rest of the way to Mrs. Taylor's. That wagon won't be here when we get back."
"Why, you little—" Buell began. Sudden anger colored his face.
"Mr. Buell. Have you further business here?" Doc asked. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "If not, may I suggest that you buy yourself a horse and head back for New Mexico Territory?"
"I plan to spend the night here! Get started in the morning."
Doc's lips drew together in a grim line. He turned to the teenager. "What's your name, son?"
"Sam. Sam Johnson."
"Well, Sam," Doc said, handing him twenty-five dollars, "you're in charge – for now. You all go get some lunch, and then get started on the baths."
"But—"
Doc shook his head. "I'll see to this business about the wagon and be along, shortly, Sam. I'll need to stop at the mercantile and get some new clothes for everyone." He looked at Sam's dirty, bare feet. "Then we'll get boots. I think there'll be plenty of money for what we need to do. But we don't have a lot of time." He looked meaningfully over the rims of his glasses. "So, the sooner we get started, the better."
Sam nodded reluctantly, pocketing the money. "Let's go!" he called, turning for the hotel. "Let's go eat!"
Doc watched the boys run down the street, confident that Sam could handle them for a short time. Then, he turned back to look at Buell. "Let's you and I have a talk, Mr. Buell. Shall we?"
Chapter 13
Allie didn't turn away. "Jay has a point," she murmured. "Especially if you intend to stand by what you've told him – be the father he's dreamed of for so long." A wistful note crept into her voice.
His lips curved up in a faint grin. "Are you asking me to marry you, Allie?" He relaxed back onto the bed, grateful for the pillows at his back.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, her breathing suddenly uneven. "Yes. I guess…maybe that's exactly what I'm doing."
The hopeful longing mingled with hurt in her features when he didn't answer immediately. Couldn't she understand he was trying to protect her? He had to make things safe for her again with the townspeople of Spring Branch. How was he was going to do that? He damn sure wasn't going to allow her to see what he really felt – he couldn't fool her. When he left this time, she and Jay must be protected, no matter what the cost to himself.
"Brandon?"
As the tension ran through him, he forced his expression to remain impassive. More curtly than he'd intended, he said, "It's not so simple as you think, Allie. There are several problems with your proposition."