Brodie's Gamble (19 page)

“If you don’t mind, I believe I’ll get some rest.”

Brodie’s head jerked up. So lost in his own thoughts, he’d forgotten about Vickery sitting in a chair across the room. Clearing his throat, he stood.

“You go ahead, Doc. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

Vickery took one more look at Maggie, checking her breathing, broken arm, and state of her bruising, then glanced up at Brodie. “I expect her to have a hard night. Gwen will be here before dawn to relieve you.”

“Sam told me you offered her a job. That was good of you.”

Vickery chuckled. “The offer was more self-serving than you know. I’m desperate for help. Conviction has grown well beyond what one doctor can handle. I’ve sent for an associate from back east. A man I used to work with for a while during the war. If all goes well, he’ll be here within the month, along with his wife and child. Gwen will be helping both of us.” Although the air in the room wasn’t hot, he swiped an arm across his forehead. “She deserves better than working at Buckie’s. It would be different if she chose to stay, enjoyed the life, but she doesn’t. We’ll be helping each other.”

Other than a brief smile and a nod, Brodie had no words to offer.

“I’ll see you in the morning. Let Gwen know to come and fetch me if anything happens before I return.”

“Goodnight, Doc.” He waited until the door closed, then sat back down, taking hold of Maggie’s hand. He couldn’t hold back a groan at the feel of her skin, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and whisper she had nothing to worry about. Instead, he pulled the chair up as close as possible and tightened his grip.

“I’d never say this in the light of day, lass, telling you how beautiful you are or how much I’d like to see you free.” He reached up with his other hand, brushing strands of hair off her face, feeling the slight warmth of her skin. “You truly are a bonny lass, Maggie King. When this is over, I intend to be here for you in any way you want. You deserve your life back, and I want to be the man to help you discover it.”

Brodie’s voice cracked. A month ago, he never would’ve thought his emotions would be tangled up so much with one woman. He’d have laughed at anyone who suggested he’d be tied in knots over a woman accused of murder. It had taken his da all of five minutes to figure out the extent of his feelings for Maggie. Denying it would’ve achieved nothing. He’d never been a good liar.

“When this is over, we’ll take a trip. Maybe on a steamboat down the Feather River to Sacramento. Or go to San Francisco. Would you like that, Maggie? We’d visit the ocean and stay at one of the grand hotels. I’d tuck your arm through mine, letting every man we see know you’re taken.” Swallowing the lump in his throat, he scrubbed a hand down his face and took a shaky breath. “There are so many places I want to share with you, Maggie. So many…” Yawning, he placed his left arm on the bed, letting his forehead rest against it as he continued to hold her hand. “A few more weeks, lass, and you’ll be able to make any choice you want. I hope it will be me…” His voice trailed off as his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep.

Hearing his deep breathing, Maggie slowly opened her eyes, her chest tightening. Turning, she looked at the locks of thick black hair falling across his face, wishing she could touch it, let her fingers slip through the silky strands. With one arm pinned to her side, her other hand locked with his, all Maggie could do was stare.

Brodie’s words couldn’t be true,
she thought. They’d known each other such a short time, and under horrible circumstances. He was a lawman, she his prisoner. Nothing good could come of relying on his words or wishes. Exhaustion, guilt over the accident, concern for her recovery—anything could have prompted his declarations. In the light of day, he’d reconsider, glad she’d been asleep when he spoke of dreams and promises.

Of course, she wasn’t asleep. His deep voice, still marked with a caressing Scottish lilt, had woken her from a particularly vivid dream. An uncommonly peaceful one in which he’d played a prominent role. Maggie’s first thought had been how real and close his voice sounded as he spoke with Doc Vickery. She’d kept quiet, believing sleep would claim her again within minutes. Instead, she’d felt the warmth of his hand taking hers. It had taken all her willpower to remain still and allow his words to wash over her. No man had ever spoken to her as if she were important, worth caring about.

Looking at the man as he slept, she let one lone tear escape, creating a trail down her cheek to her jaw. Again, she was powerless to swipe it away. If only his words were true. The girl who still lived within her prayed they were. The beaten woman who controlled her spirit cautioned her to keep a lock on her emotions and accept reality. Dreams were for girls—not Maggie. She’d left that innocence behind a long time ago. For now, the woman in her won.

The trip to the cabin crept by, slowed by thick fog and a light drizzle. Even with Joel acting as their guide, they’d made a wrong turn twice, forcing them to backtrack.

Brodie thought the early start would prove to be in their favor. He’d woken in the doctor’s office with a start, reaching for his gun before hearing Maggie’s soft breathing and a door open as Doc Vickery walked inside. Brodie had taken one more look at Maggie before leaving to meet Fielder and Stoddard. He’d hoped to be back in town before noon. Now it appeared they’d be on the mountain a good part of the day.

“Up ahead.” Joel picked up his pace, heading for a vague outline still shrouded in fog.

“Wonderful, Joel. Now we can get down to business.” Fielder dismounted, walking straight inside the cabin, then waited for Brodie. “Explain to me what you and Colin found when you brought Miss King here, then the second time when you came alone.”

Brodie went through each visit in detail, leaving nothing out. Fielder stopped him several times to clarify a point or ask a question, then motioned for Brodie to continue. They ended outside next to the all but vanished shallow grave. It hadn’t taken long for the elements to erase the spot where Arnie Stoddard had been hastily buried.

“Do you have anything to add, Joel?” Fielder asked, continuing to glance around as he considered what Brodie said.

“No, sir. I believe the sheriff and I have the exact same opinion on what happened and agree Maggie could not have committed the murder. One question remains, though. If not Maggie, then who?”

Fielder looked at Brodie. “Did you find anything to suspect someone else of riding in, killing Stoddard, then riding out?”

“Nothing. Colin and I found numerous hoofprints, which didn’t prove anything. Finding Miss King’s tracks proved easier since she was on foot.”

Fielder paced around the outside one more time before circling back to the front of the cabin and going inside. He spent a few more minutes satisfying himself they’d learned all they could before joining Brodie and Joel next to their horses.

“I must agree with you, gentlemen. Assuming Doc Vickery’s right that the blow to the back of the head didn’t kill Stoddard, I don’t see any way Miss King could have murdered him. I believe she knocked him out, left, then someone else came along and took the opportunity to finish the job, carry him outside, and bury him.” Fielder rubbed his chin, then dropped his arm to his side. “I can lay out a good case and hope it’s enough to convince a jury of her innocence. The only way to be certain she’s found not guilty is to find the person responsible.”

Brodie had said the same to himself several times over the last few days. He seldom held doubts about his abilities. Knowing the outcome of Maggie’s trial might very well rest on his shoulders, he hoped his skills and experience would be enough. He’d never imagined he’d be facing such a difficult situation within weeks of taking the job as sheriff. And never had he felt such a strong sense of imminent disaster.

Chapter Thirteen

“Syd Stoddard’s drunk and letting everyone at Buckie’s know how he feels about Miss King getting a trial.” Sam slipped his thumbs into the pockets of his vest, staring out the jail’s front window, watching the evening crowd grow at the saloon across the street.

Brodie walked up beside him, shaking his head at people who’d even consider the opinion of Stoddard worth their time. “How are they reacting?” Turning from the window, he stalked back to his desk and sat down.

“As you’d expect.” Sam turned toward Brodie, leaning his back against the wall and crossing his arms. “Most ignore him, others listen, then go back to what they were doing. A few sympathize. I’m afraid it won’t take much to push the rest to his way of thinking.”

“It’s at least another week before the judge gets here. He could stir up a lot of people by then.” Brodie dragged a hand down his face, his mind on Maggie.

“Wasn’t he supposed to be here by now?”

“A change in plans. Seems a group of outlaws decided to rob the bank the same day the judge arrived in Yubaville.”

Sam chuckled. “Seems there’s no end to the number of men who have more grit than brains.”

“I don’t know if it’s grit. My da would call them eejits for having no brains at all. Regardless, the judge must now stay longer in Yubaville. At least it gives Fielder more time to prepare.”

“Morning.” Jack walked inside, stomping his boots on the wooden floor to loosen the dried dirt, then looked up at Brodie. “We got a situation on the River Belle. You might want to come see.”

Smiling, Brodie stood and grabbed his hat. “Did the captain refuse to pay the ladies again?”

The River Belle had become well-known for offering gambling, music, and the services of ladies the captain hand-selected to provide private entertainment for male passengers. Several weeks before, he had a riot on his hands after distributing the wages, shorting the women a significant amount. It had taken Brodie an hour to sort out the mess, obtaining a promise from the captain to either live up to his agreement with the ladies or risk suspension of his docking privileges in Conviction.

“Nope. Seems one of the passengers got into a fight with a few men holding sympathies for the South.”

California had sided with the North in the current war. Although thousands of miles from a majority of the conflicts, the state had become a significant contributor of both money and men to the Union. Few in the region openly voiced their support of Lee’s army.

“If that’s all it is, Jack, arrest the ones who jumped him and get Doc Vickery down there to see to the man.” Brodie placed his hat back on the hook and sat down.

“He’s not the one who needs the doc, Sheriff.”

Sam’s mouth quirked up at the corners. “I believe I’d like to see this.”

“You and Jack go ahead. I’m heading over to the clinic to check on our prisoner.”

Sam and Jack cast quick glances at each other, saying nothing as they walked out.

“How’s she doing?” Brodie pulled off his hat, fingering the brim as he watched Vickery lean over Maggie.

The doctor glanced up, his red-rimmed eyes reflecting the long days and nights he’d been working. “Come over here and see for yourself.”

Taking the few steps to the edge of the bed, Brodie’s eyes met Maggie’s for a brief moment before her expression fell and she glanced away. He could understand how much she must hate him. She’d been so close to getting away, leaving her past behind and reclaiming her life. He’d stepped in, causing her massive physical pain, as well as an uncertain future. Brodie knew he had no right to harbor such strong feelings for her, lying awake at night, wondering why he couldn’t cut her from his thoughts.