A sad thing it was.
Absently, she wondered if Lucas was asleep or if he, too, was restless that night.
Camille shook her head. The musings of a schoolgirl were the things she needed to avoid.
Her heart was fragile when it came to Lucas McKade, which scared her almost as much as the nightmare.
The next morning
"Who's the loud snorer in the cell?" Brogan scowled up at him when Lucas walked into the jailhouse. "You didn't write up anything."
The man was in a bad mood and Lucas wasn't about to ask what caused it. "I did. It's in the top drawer. Drunk and disorderly. Took a swing at me. Brought him in to sleep it off."
When Brogan didn't open the drawer, Lucas walked over, pulled it open and took the sheet of paper out. "Here."
"I'm making a mistake, aren't I?" Brogan asked looking toward the front door. "To get married. It's not a good idea. Too many enemies."
The reason for his friend's mood did not surprise Lucas. Since taking notice of Camille, he'd gone back and forth when considering if he should pursue a relationship. "Every day we live as lawmen, we take chances. Can you imagine living without her?"
The Scot remained quiet; his attention remained on the door. "I think it's a stupid idea. I told Sarah last night that I didn't know if it was a good idea to put her in danger."
Lucas' eyebrows rose. "I bet that didn't go over well."
"Not at all." Brogan slumped. "She's very cross with me. Asked me to leave and not speak to her today."
"It's only three weeks until the wedding. You can't very well call it off."
"I don't know what to do." For the first time since knowing him, Lucas wasn't sure what to say. If anything, Brogan was the more self-assured, always in control of the two. However, Lucas understood more than anyone the reason for Brogan's state of mind.
"You should marry her."
There was anxiety in his friend’s gaze. "Why?"
"Because it’s your destiny. Why else would you fall in love? Brogan, you should be dead. When I dragged you here after the shootout, I doubted you'd live long enough to make the trip. But you did. Not only that, you recovered. It’s part of a plan. Besides, none of us are guaranteed tomorrow. No matter what happens, being married to Sarah will be something you'll never regret."
"When did you become so wise?" Brogan's lips curved into a rare smile. "You almost make sense."
Lucas gave his friend a bland look. "I'm just speaking the truth, brother."
"You may want to remember what you said when your turn comes up.” Brogan stood and stretched. "I'll wake up the prisoner and send him on his way."
"I can do it," Lucas said. "Why don't you go speak to Sarah?"
"Not yet. I better give her time to cool down." Brogan shook his head and sat back down. "She's liable to knock me on the head with one of those walking sticks they keep in the clinic."
A lone rider caught Camille's attention. The man was hunched over as if either tired or hurt. When he dismounted, his steps were unsteady. He staggered in the direction of her shop, his watery eyes scanning the buildings. Her heart thumped as she rushed to lock the door and pull the curtains closed. She peeked from a corner of the side window to see the man looking away, as if distracted by someone calling out to him. He weaved unsteadily before going to the side of a post and holding on to it.
Lucas came into view. The men talked for a moment before the stranger slumped over. Lucas caught him and lowered the unconscious man to the ground. The deputy looked up to her window. Hopefully, Lucas wouldn't come and ask for her assistance.
The sick man seemed familiar. She never forgot a face and for some reason, his made her nervous. Whoever the man was, he had to be from her past.
At Lucas' whistle, two men rushed over and, together, the three of them lifted the sick man and carried him away.
Camille let out a long breath. She went to the door to ensure it was latched and then went up the stairs to her living quarters. She'd keep the shop closed. Hopefully, there would be a way to find out if the stranger was gone or maybe even dead before she'd be comfortable enough to open again.
Lucas waited until the doctor examined the sick man. Finally, Dr. Sutherland came out to the front room. "Weak from loss of blood, but he'll make it. Lucky man, the shot went clean through his side."
"Who is he?"
"Says his name is Frederick Williams. From Montana somewhere. Claims to have been shot by men who held him up about twenty miles from here."
There was coughing from the examining room, but it soon quieted. "Seems interesting he rode past your clinic and didn't stop.” Lucas walked toward the small examination room to find Williams lying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling.
"Mr. Williams, I hear you'll be all right."
The man's narrowed eyes slid to look at him. "Is that so? Who are you?"
"Deputy McKade."