Читать книгу The Outlaw of Cedar Ridge - Lori Connelly - Страница 8

“You’re home.”

Ben looked up at her. His eyebrows drew together. “Home?”

“Yes.”

“I…” His eyelids fell shut. “Don’t … ”

“Ben? Ben?”

Only silence answered. Evie stared down at her husband for a moment longer. He didn’t move or make a sound. Her shoulders drooped. Concern knotted her stomach as she moved over to the fireplace and filled her bowl from the kettle.

Without a word, she strode back to Ben’s side. Evie lifted the blood soaked towel from his shoulder then dropped it on the floor. Nerves stretched taut, she dipped a fresh cloth in the hot water and started to clean around the wound.

“Mrs. Rolfe.” The sheriff paused. Evie glanced up. The tall man pulled up a chair near her, sat down. With a cautious expression and a gentle, careful tone, he asked, “Do you know who’d want to hurt your husband?”

Evie looked back down at Ben. Her eyes burned but she refused to cry. She scrubbed off the last bits of dried blood and dirt. “Ah … ” Her task finished, she laid a fresh towel over torn flesh. “Other than Mr. Talbert, I … ”

“You think Mr. Talbert is responsible?”

“I don’t know, but the other night some of his men-”

A welcome sound drifted through the walls, sending a wave of relief over her. Evie held up a hand and shook her head when the sheriff started to say something. She thrust the bowl on the dresser, almost running to open the door.

In front of the cabin, a buggy rolled up. A slight built man dressed in all brown from trousers to string tie stepped out of the vehicle. With short light brown hair, plain features and wire-rimmed spectacles, the medical bag in his hand was the only thing of note about the man.

“Mrs. Rolfe, this is Dr. Black.” The sheriff walked up, offering the introduction as she motioned the other man inside.

“We’ve met.” She addressed Sheriff Green then turned her attention back to the doctor, clasping his hand. “Thank you for coming.” She gestured to Ben. “He’s bleeding badly.”

“Let me take a look.”

Dr. Black moved directly to the bedside and set his bag on the dresser. With quiet efficiency, he examined her husband. A guttural moan escaped the wounded man’s lips. Evie walked over to the foot of the bed as Ben opened his eyes and lightly touched his leg.

“The doctor’s here.”

Ben looked up at the man beside him then down at Evie. He tried to move then stilled when the doctor placed a hand on his chest. His breath labored, perspiration covered his face. Pain twisted his expression into a grimace. She averted her gaze to stare at the blazing fire.

Dr. Black laid a hand on her arm. “I’ll need hot water and whiskey if you have some.”

After a few seconds, she nodded then with a swish of her skirts, stepped away. She reached up on the shelf and pulled down the large flour tin. Cheeks aflame, Evie avoided the men’s curious gazes as she dug out the bottle she’d hidden. That it was half-full startled her a moment then, with a sigh, she put the container back. Ben had obviously found it.

Her mouth twisted into a travesty of a smile, she handed the liquor to the doctor. She moved to the hearth, lifted the heavy, steaming pot from over the fire then set it down on a folded cloth in the middle of the table. After that, she added soap and some bowls then hovered, watching the doctor spread out his own supplies.

“Your husband is in good hands.”

“I know.” Although grateful for the reassurance, her voice came out hollow.

“You know Dr. Black?”

Evie nodded. Her gaze never left the doctor as he helped her husband swallow some whiskey. He turned from his patient, washed his hands then started on Ben’s shoulder. She watched him clean out the wound without a noticeable flinch but her eyes widened as he threaded a needle. When the sharp metal pierced her husband’s flesh, she felt the blood drain from her face.

Saliva gathered in her mouth. Poise crumbled. She swayed but couldn’t look away. Evie heard the sheriff speaking to her as if from a distance.

“Ma’am … ma’am, maybe you should step outside?”

Her mind fuzzy it took a moment before Evie understood what he’d said and her gaze swung to him. She stared at the tall man a few seconds, blinked then stumbled outside. Crisp, cool air feathered her face.

“You were telling me about some men?”

Evie started. The sheriff had followed her outside. She turned and found him right behind her. “I was?” Movement caught her eye. On her left, a few yards away, was a horse, picketed. “Oh, yeah, yesterday late afternoon…” She heard a groan, paused, flicking a glance back at the cabin. Worried, on edge, she couldn’t stand still, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Some men showed up, mad about Eddie Talbert getting hurt.”

“Do you know who they are?”

“Other than they must work for the Talberts’?” Evie shook her head. “I’d never seen them before.”

“Would you or your husband recognize them?”

“Ben wasn’t here and I doubt I could. They were riding all around, yelling, and firing shots. I was scared.” The doctor appeared in the doorway and gestured for her to come. Evie took a step toward home then stopped, looking back at the sheriff. “But Mr. Talbert would know. He told me he fired those men.”

“Interesting.” He inclined his head. “I believe I’ll head out now ma’am. I’ll be back out soon to speak to your husband.”

As the lawman loosed his horse, Evie walked away without another word, ducking back inside. She scooted around Dr. Black and moved to Ben’s side. He rested, eyes closed. She leaned down, brushing a damp lock of hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Is he going to be okay?” Her gaze went to the man next to her in the midst of drying his hands.

Dr. Black gave her a kind smile. “I need some wide strips to bind his ribs.” He waited until she moved to the table and started to cut the sheet before he continued. “I’ve stitched up the knife wound.” With swift, sure motions, he took the cloth from her and worked it around Ben. “He’ll likely have a nasty headache given the size of that goose egg and these ribs will take a while to heal.”

His neutral tone and carefully chosen words didn’t escape her notice. Evie put the scissors down, watching him finish the binding with her arms hugged around her waist. “So you think he’ll be okay?”

“As long as that shoulder doesn’t get infected, yes.”

Dread settled in her gut. Her mouth dry, she didn’t speak for a moment. She inched closer. “Is that likely?”

“All we can do now is pray.” His gaze held compassion.

“I will.” Evie moved back to the bedside. Her hand touched Ben’s arm for needed contact. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The doctor started to repack his bag.

“What do I owe you?”

“It’s late. I’ll be back tomorrow to check on him.”

“But-”

He patted her hand. “We’ll settle up then.”

“All right.” She didn’t have the heart to protest further.

“The best thing for him is sleep.” Dr. Black shrugged into a light jacket and donned a narrow brimmed hat. He gestured to the bottle still covered with bits of flour. “If he wakes up in too much pain, give him more.”

Evie walked him to the door. The control she’d held so tight threatened to fall apart. Emotion inexplicable, tears gathered. She exhaled a shaky breath. “He could’ve died.”

“But he didn’t.” Gentle fingers cupped her chin, tilting her face up so Evie looked into his eyes. “The best thing you can do for Ben now is get some rest. You need it.”

“I will.”

Without another word, the doctor left. Evie sank down in the chair beside the bed. Weary, she laid her head down, resting her cheek on Ben’s arm. Her eyes drifted shut. Sometime later a touch on her hair startled her awake.

“Doll.”

“Ben?” She lifted her head and opened her eyes to look at him. At first, he didn’t respond. His eyes still closed, she thought perhaps he’d fallen back asleep.

“Hurts.”

“What hurts?”

“Head. Side. Shoulder. Everything.”

Evie pushed up her feet, poured some liquor in a cup. She slid an arm under his shoulders and helped him up enough so that he could drink. He never opened his eyes or spoke again. She settled Ben back down then eased away from him. His breathing deepened, in minutes it was clear he slept.

Unable to go straight back to sleep herself, Evie moved around the room, restless. She threw his stained clothing and towels in a basket then pushed it under the bed. Exhausted, her head throbbed. She started to clear the table and swayed. One hand reached out, pressed against the wood surface and steadied her. After a moment, she trudged back to Ben’s side, resigned to sleep again in the chair.

The night seemed endless. Every time her husband made a sound, Evie jerked awake, fear clawing her heart. It took long moments to calm each time. When morning arrived at last, she felt worse than the night before.

Her eyes burned. Muscles stiff and aching, Evie stumbled through chores then returned, collapsing onto her chair. Hours passed. Her hair went uncombed, face unwashed, dress unchanged, she did nothing but sit by Ben who mostly slept until the doctor arrived around noon.

As Dr. Black checked her husband over, he woke for more than a moment.

“What happened?”

Evie leaned close and spoke softly. “You were attacked.”

“I was?” Discomfort clear, he responded with effort. His eyes closed. For a second she thought Ben had fallen asleep yet again, and then he spoke again. “By who? Why?”

“I was hoping you’d tell us.”

“I don’t know. Sorry.” He took a breath. “So I’m at your home.”

“Our home.”

“Our home?” His eyes opened. He turned his head to look straight at her, brow furrowed.

A childhood memory of a man who’d fallen from a horse stirred and concern filled her. “Do you know who you are?”

“You called me Ben.” He took an audible breath. “But my full name is Benjamin, Benjamin James Rolfe.”

“Thank God.” Relief cascaded through her.

Swollen lips attempted to form a smile. “So what’s your name, sweet lady?”

A shiver went down her spine. His words pierced her bubble of cheer. Unease crept over her. She stared at him for a full moment. “That’s not funny.”

“Not trying to be.”

“It’s all right,” Dr. Black inserted. Evie started. She’d forgotten his presence. His low tone a clear attempt to soothe her, the doctor continued. “Go ahead tell him your name.”

“Evie, I’m Evie.”

“That’s a right pretty name,” his words slurred.

“So you said the first time you heard it,” she muttered but her words went unheard. He’d fallen asleep again. Evie turned her gaze on the doctor. His somber expression didn’t comfort her. “Is it normal to sleep like that?”

The doctor nodded. “His body needs the rest.”

“Okay.” Evie accepted that easily and moved on to the question that burned inside her. “Why doesn’t Ben know me?”

“Well, head injuries can rattle a person for a time.”

Worry sharpened her tone. “There was a man where I grew up who forgot everything, everyone, had to learn to dress and eat again like a baby. Is that what’s happening to Ben?”

“I’ve heard of such cases.” Dr. Black took her hand, patting it with his other one. “But Ben knows who he is and that’s a good sign. Give him time, let him recover.”

“Then you think he’ll remember me?”

“Likely.”

“But he might not?”

“Let’s not borrow trouble. Wait a few days. See how he does.” He squeezed her hand then released her and stepped back.

Dr. Black turned to the table, snapping his bag shut. Evie walked him outside. He waited by his buggy while she fetched a small bag of dried apples and a crated chicken.

“Would these cover what we owe you?”

“It’ll do.” The doctor accepted the offering. “I’ll be back out to check on Ben tomorrow.”

Arms crossed at her waist, Evie watched him set what she’d given behind the black leather seat. He climbed in, snapped the reins and drove off. Her shoulders slumped. Alone and solely responsible for Ben, she felt weighed down with worry.

Evie went back to the cabin on leaden feet. Once satisfied her husband rested easy, she sat down, closed her eyes but minutes later remained wide-awake. Though far past tired, she couldn’t settle down. She got up and changed into a clean dress of blue calico, tidied the room, fussed with Ben’s blankets then reached down, pulled out the laundry basket.

After she propped the door open, Evie carried the clothes outside. She soon had water boiling in a large pot hung above a fire and tossed in the stained items. The hot, unpleasant job took up a good portion of her afternoon. She yawned often as she hung the last of the laundry up to dry. The sound of a moan floated out of the cabin while Evie kicked dirt on the fire. She hurried inside straight to her husband.

“Are you all right?”

“Could I have some water?” he rasped.

“Of course.” She filled a mug from the kettle and returned.

His hands shook as he took it from her, which sloshed the lukewarm water over his fingers. Evie put her hands over his to steady them. Ben raised his head, took in a few long sips then pale, shaking, he laid back.

“Thank you, Evie.”

“You remember me?” Tense, hopeful, worried, she hesitated a second then took the mug from his slack grip, putting it down on the dresser.

Ben cleared his throat yet his voice emerged husky. “Of course, you’re the pretty lady who’s taking care of me.”

“So you don’t know who I am?”

“Other than your name, no.” He paused a moment, coughed, then continued in a soft, forced tone. “But I’m guessing I should.”

Evie couldn’t keep the words inside. “I’m your wife.”

“Oh.” He closed his eyes, his exhaustion obvious. “That’s … ”

Ben drifted off again. Evie stomped her foot so frustrated she wanted to scream. She needed him to stay awake more than a blessed minute and talk to her. Her fingers tangled with his as she sank down on the rocker. Tears filled her eyes then spilled over, trailing down heated cheeks. She needed him.

The remainder of the day passed in the same manner. When Ben stirred, they would exchange a few meaningless words. Evie gave him more sips of water and late in the evening, she managed to coax some broth into him. By the end of the very long day, little had changed.

The need for sleep at last overcame her shortly after dark and Evie nodded off in her chair. A glancing blow to her upper arm woke her some time later. She opened her eyes. In the low, flickering light from the dying lamp Ben flailed, not wildly but with soft jerks as if in his dreams, he fought.

“Ben.” Her tone low and pitched to comfort, Evie leaned over him. She captured one of his arms, holding it to the mattress. “Ben, wake up.”

Her husband quieted but didn’t respond. Still weary, Evie started to relax, and then what she felt sank in. Heat radiated from his skin. Panicked she jumped up, grabbed the pail and dashed down to the creek without pausing to take the lamp. She stubbed her toes, snagged her dress on a thorny brush and almost fell into the running water but the terror that so often paralyzed her in the dark simply didn’t register. She filled her bucket and hurried back.

Through the night, Evie soaked rags in the cold water then applied them to his heated forehead. His skin never stayed cool long before it burned again. Every so often Ben would mutter gibberish then thrash about until she soothed him.

Her back ached fiercely by morning light. Evie straightened away from the bed with her hands pressed hard against the base of her spine. She yawned so wide and long her jaw hurt. Noise penetrated her fog of exhaustion. She went to the window and peeked through the curtains. The little black buggy was a most welcome sight. She stumbled over to the door, eager to let the doctor inside.

After a quick exchange of information, Evie let Dr. Black take over Ben’s care. On the verge of collapse, she pulled her rocker across the room out of the way. She sat down, leaned her head against the high back, closed her eyes and slept.

The next few days passed in a blur. Evie rested whenever Dr. Black was there. Naps at odd hours became routine. At the end of the week, a touch on her shoulder woke her from one. She blinked up at the tall man for a moment until her wits gathered.

“Sheriff Green.” Evie sat up straight, pushing her hair out of her face. “Do you have news?”

“Well Doc just said he believes the fever broke.”

She sagged back against the chair. “Thank God.”

“I came out to speak to Ben. Clearly he’s in no condition for that now but … ”

An uneasy feeling knotted her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

“Perhaps we should talk privately?”

“All right.” Evie glanced over at the man who sat next to the bed and looked almost as tired as she felt. “I need to step outside with the sheriff for a moment.”

Dr. Black acknowledged her words with a nod. She stood and led the sheriff outside. Her gaze swept the area as she emerged from the cabin. She took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air.

Sheriff Green moved in front of her. “Ma’am you’re aware your husband has … irritated folks?”

Evie could barely contain an unladylike snort. She arched an eyebrow and answered in a tone as dry as late fall leaves. “Yes.”

“In the time you’ve lived here he’s made questionable deals, caused trouble in town drinking and brawling, there’s more than one accusation of cheating and he’s suspected of-”

“Your point?” Her voice lowered to just above a whisper. That his words were true made them no less difficult to hear. “Are you trying to say Ben deserved what happened?”

“No ma’am, but I’m warning you some might see it that way.”

“Who? The person or people who hurt him? Do you know who did it?”

“The men Talbert fired were overheard celebrating that your husband was hurt. They also had his horse.”

“So you arrested them?”

“I did when they started a fight and tore up the saloon. But those are the only charges I’m holding them on.”

Evie shook her head, confused. “Not for attacking Ben?”

“I’ve no proof of that.”

“But you just said-”

“It’s not a crime to be happy that a man got beat up.”

“But…” With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she tried again to protest. “ They-”

“All swear they had nothing to do with it.”

“They had his horse.” She enunciated each word with force.

“They claim they found it wondering loose, knew the mare belonged to you and were going to return it.”

Heat burned across her cheeks. “So you’ll do nothing.”

“Not much I can do ma’am. I rode out here hoping Ben could tell me something, some detail that might help but-”

“Dr. Black told you Ben might not remember.” Her hands twisted together. A band tightened around her chest.

“I hope for your sake he does.”

Wearing a calm mask, she met his gaze. “Why?”

“I can’t hold those boys long and I’ve heard ugly rumors.”

She stiffened. “Rumors?”

“Those boys are locals. They all grew up here.”

“And we’ve only been a here a few years.”

The sheriff nodded. “Word about the Talbert boy has gotten around. There’s not a whole lot of sympathy for your husband’s injuries. In fact there’s some anger directed at him still.”

“I see.” Her stomach rolled.

“Ma’am I’ll do my best but I’m only one man.” His serious tone and the concern in his gaze, slammed his message home. The neighbors likely wouldn’t help if someone decided to hurt Ben again and the sheriff couldn’t protect him.

“I understand.” Her hands clasped tight together. “Anything else? I should get back to my husband.”

Sheriff Green studied her for a tense moment. “I brought your horse back. She’s in the barn.”

“Thank you.”

“I checked the saddlebags. They were empty. Did Ben have anything of value?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Has he brought home any extra money?”

“What are you really asking?”

“It’s important I have the facts ma’am. Did he have any –?”

“No. There’s no money here. You’re welcome to look if my word isn’t good enough.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Dr. Black strolled from the cabin. “I need to get going.”

“Of course.” Evie managed a stiff smile. “Thank you.”

Without waiting to see either man off, she stepped into the open doorway. Evie paused there. Her fingers gripped the wood frame hard. The sound of hooves and wheels faded as she stood, staring at Ben who slept yet again. Her head bowed. Worn out, she felt alone, abandoned.

A surge of fury suddenly crashed over logic. Her chin lifted and she glared at her husband. Evie stomped across the room, snatched up a pot, set it down hard on the table. A quick glance showed Ben undisturbed.

I’m tired of understanding.

Lips tight, Evie shook her head. Being patient. She put chicken broth and dried vegetables in the pot then hung it over the fire on a hook Ben had fashioned. Feeling alone in the same room. Her actions jerky, she pulled a small crock off a shelf then opened the towel wrapped around the half loaf of cornbread.

Her hands shook as she cut off a couple of slices then smeared butter over them. Movements slowed. Tears fell.

Evie looked over at Ben. Hair fell untidy across his forehead, his face a patchwork of charcoal smudges, a few more colorful bruises and pallid skin. I almost lost you.

Drained she made no effort to wipe her cheeks. Slowly she moved her chair back next to the bed. She grabbed her snack, poured a mug of coffee and sat down. Without enthusiasm, she washed her food down with bitter liquid. When she finished, Evie reached out and touched his chest.

Her fingers lingered, moving in a soft caress. A dark brown mat of hair spread out over his upper body until it disappeared beneath his bound ribs. Evie laid her palm flat on his lower belly a moment then pulled back. Sadness whispered. She’d all but forgotten how it felt to touch him. She stared at the dregs of her coffee, and rocked herself for comfort.

Ben cleared his throat. The young woman didn’t respond, just kept rocking. He cleared his throat again, louder. She stilled a second then faced him, her expression a polite mask.

“Good afternoon.”

Though pain tugged at him, Ben studied her, curious about the stranger who claimed to be his wife. Hair, a rich, deep golden brown, tumbled from a haphazard braid to fall about a pretty face with even features dominated by eyes an intriguing sky blue. With sun kissed golden skin and a strong yet gently curved body, she was exactly his type of woman.

“Is it? I feel weak as a kitten.”

“You’ve had a rough few days.” Her voice had a low husky quality. “Are you hurting?”

His head pounded, his whole body ached and any deep breath brought pure misery. “Oh yeah.”

“I can get you some-”

“Not now thank you … Evie … is that right?”

A flash of emotion disturbed her expression. “Yes.”

“And … Did you say you’re my wife?”

“I did.” Her flat, almost lifeless voice disturbed him.

A spasm of pain seized him, commanding attention. Sweat bathed his face. It took little time before it became tolerable but each second that ticked by worsened his mood. Everything felt out of his control.

Patience fled. Ben challenged the woman, skepticism clear in his testy tone. “How is that possible?”

“Standing before a minister and affirming vows before God and witnesses has that effect,” Evie snapped; her voice frost.

Her words hung in the air. Anger flashed in her eyes before they went flat. Ben didn’t know how to respond. Her certainty troubled him but what the doctor had suggested just couldn’t be right. It couldn’t be. Irritated, uncomfortable, he shifted.

“What are you doing?”

“I want up.”

Her lips pursed in disapproval but Evie helped him without protest. Tremors shot through his body, stealing his breath as he moved into a seated position. Lastly, she had Ben lean forward and stuffed a folded blanket behind him for support. He sagged back against the padding.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Stilted words reflected the awkwardness between them. Evie paused, studying him a moment. “Hungry?”

“A little.”

In minutes, she brought him some thin soup and water. He devoured the food then handed her back the empty bowl. Though now every breath spread splintering pain, he took a few sips from his cup, one hand pressed against his aching ribs. What little energy he had left started to fade. Even so, he was determined to address her claim.

“Do you have proof?”