Love Finds You in Last Chance, California (33 page)

Alex folded her hands in her lap. “How long do you think she’ll need to stay?”

“That depends on where she’d be going. Can’t go back to working in that saloon till her ribs heal, and that’ll take weeks. But she could leave fairly soon if she’s able to stay in bed and not move around much.”

“I’d like to take her home when she’s ready. If you think I’m capable of caring for her, that is.” She sat up straight and planted her feet squarely on the floor under her chair, hoping he’d see her as the adult she’d become rather than the girl he used to treat for childhood ailments.

The doctor stared over the top of his eyeglasses again, seemingly at a loss for words or else drifting off to sleep—she couldn’t be certain by the blank look in his eyes. He shook his head and ran his hand over his chin. “Sorry. You want to take her home? She’s not a stray puppy, you know.”

Alex almost rolled her eyes at the repeat of Elizabeth’s words. “I’m aware of that, and yes, I want to take her home.”

He leaned forward, his gaze suddenly sharp and focused. “But are you aware of what the young lady does for a living? I mean, do you really think it would be wise….” His words trailed off.

Alex pushed to her feet and clenched her hands at her sides, working to keep her voice calm. “Yes—to both questions. She’s a person, Doc—a person who’s been hurt and needs care. I don’t care what she does for a living; she won’t be doing it at my house, and she’s too broken up to cause any harm.”

“Not physical harm, no. But tongues will wag if you take a woman like her to your home. What do Martha and Joe have to say? Have you consulted them?”

Alex crossed her arms and raised her chin. “It’s my home, but yes, I’ve discussed it with them. Martha isn’t thrilled, but she’s willing to help, as is Uncle Joe.” She wanted to tap her toe and place her hands on her hips, but she willed herself to relax her stance and sink back into the chair. She knew that Doc Stevens cared about his patients—every one of them—and he would be remiss in his care for her as an old family friend if he didn’t question her request. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve thought this through. I’d like to care for Miss Grey, if you think I’m capable.”

He clasped his hands and leaned his chin on his knuckles. “I do. Especially with Martha’s help.” He paused and rubbed the rough bristle covering his chin. “I must confess I’m pleased you’re willing to do this. Not many respectable women would take on someone in Miss Grey’s position. Your father would be proud of you, Alexia. He always loved the scripture about the Good Samaritan, and I must say you’re doing a fine job in living up to that story.” He tapped his fingers on the desk and pursed his lips. “I’ll release her to you on Monday. Another four days in my care and she should be ready to go.” A spasmodic jerk of his head and rapidly blinking eyes signaled a sudden thought. “I imagine you need to get her permission before we move forward.”

Alex stifled a groan. Christy’s desires hadn’t entered into her figuring. She’d been so focused on helping the woman that it hadn’t occurred to her that Christy might not want to come. “You’re right. I’ll speak to her. Would now be a good time, or should I come back?”

“Now should be fine. I’ll see if she’s awake and you can have a few minutes. Just don’t tire her too much.” He placed the palm of his hands on the desk and heaved to his feet. “I’ll just be a moment.”

He disappeared behind the curtain for several moments then returned and motioned Alex forward. “You can go in.” He stepped aside to let her pass and pulled the curtain behind her.

The sound of his footsteps faded and a soft click of the front door signaled his departure from the office. The muscles in Alex’s stomach clenched, and she drew a deep breath. She turned her attention toward the bed, unsure of what her reception might be. Christy lay unmoving, with her back to the room. The wayward tufts sticking out of the braided red hair evidenced an unpracticed hand. A light sheet covered the slender frame, not giving any indication of the damaged body beneath.

Alex took a tentative step and paused. Could Christy have fallen asleep so quickly, or did she not care to see a visitor? “Miss Grey? Are you awake?”

The figure on the bed didn’t stir. Alex tiptoed closer and tried to peek over the still form, hoping to see Christy’s face, but it was burrowed into the pillow. “I won’t bother you, then. I’ll come back another time, when you’re feeling up to talking.”

She turned away and took two steps to the curtained doorway when a soft noise arrested her attention. “Christy? Did you say something?”

“I heard you talking.” The muffled words were barely discernible coming from the depths of the pillow. Her head moved and the red braid shifted. “I’m not going home with you.”

Alex slipped across the short distance and reached a tentative hand toward Christy’s shoulder then drew it back. No telling where she’d been hurt. “Can you turn over, or would you like me to help you?”

A slight shake of the head on the pillow served as her answer.

“All right, then I’ll stand here and talk to your back. You’ve no place to go and Doc Stevens can’t keep you here until you heal. We have an unused room on the ground floor, and I’m offering it to you for as long as you need it.”

“No. I won’t take your charity.” The woman lay rigid and unmoving. Suddenly she raised a hand, placed it against the wall and pushed, rolling herself onto her back. A deep groan emanated from between her parted lips, and Alex saw beads of sweat break out across the pale forehead. “Look at this face. I’m a worthless saloon girl who got what she deserved. That’s what all the townspeople are saying. Admit it.”

She glared up at Alex out of red, swollen eyes that were only half open. Bruises shadowed her cheekbones and chin, where a hard object—probably a man’s fist or foot—had landed repeated blows. The once dainty, clear complexion sported red, black, and blue splotches, and her forehead showed neat stitches just beneath the hairline.

Alex met the stormy gaze of the battered young woman but didn’t flinch. She’d seen injuries like this before, when one of the wranglers had gotten into a brawl, but never on the face of a woman. But there was no way she’d allow Christy to see her dismay. “I don’t care what you look like or what the townspeople think. It’s not their concern who I invite to my home.”

Christy lifted a shaking hand and tugged the sheet up close to her chin. “Then you’re crazier than I thought. Besides, Justin Phillips works for you, and he’s not going to want me on the place.”

“I’ve discussed it with Justin, as well as Martha and Uncle Joe, and it’s settled. You’re coming. You have no place to go and no other choice, unless you’re independently wealthy. But I’m guessing that’s not the case, based on your occupation.” Alex hated the need for the brusque words but saw no other way of penetrating the woman’s stubborn refusal.

Christy’s expression hardened and she turned her face away. “Fine. I’ll come, but only because you’re right—I don’t have a choice. But the minute I’m able, I’m leaving. And I’ll pay you for every scrap of food I eat and every day I take up space in your bed if it’s the last thing I do. I won’t be beholden to you.”

Alex shrugged and tried to hide a smile as the sense of relief at her victory washed over her. “I don’t have a problem with that. Doc says we can pick you up on Monday. And in case you didn’t think of it, you’ll be living in the same house as Toby. I don’t think Justin wants to keep you away from your nephew, if you love him as much as you appear to.”

Christy seemed to brighten at the words and nodded, but she didn’t respond.

Alex took a step back then paused. “Is there anything you’d like Uncle Joe to get from your room?”

Christy drew in a sharp breath then coughed. “Ouch. These blamed ribs hurt—can’t even take a deep breath without pain.” She laid a hand over her chest and smoothed the sheet. “I’d love to say no, but the truth is, I’d like to have my valise. I can have the doc send someone to bring it over, if they haven’t already tossed it.”

“I’ll have Uncle Joe get it. Christy…” She hesitated, not sure of the wisdom of her next question. “Doc says you don’t know who attacked you, or why. That true?”

Christy’s face drained of color and she struggled to shift toward the wall. No sound escaped her closed lips, but her stiff back shouted that she was through talking.

The church buzzed with excitement following the shortened service. Parson Moser had dismissed them early, explaining that he’d never be forgiven if the ladies’ covered dishes and pies wilted in the midday heat. Women scurried from their places and prodded their husbands out the door toward wagons and horses waiting behind the building.

Alex peeked over her shoulder at Justin and Toby standing along the back wall. Justin had declined Martha’s invitation to sit with them in church, giving Toby’s inability to sit still through the service as an excuse. Alex hoped his reason didn’t disguise a deeper motive. His recent offer of friendship reassured her somewhat, but she’d hate to see them slip back into a place of mutual distrust and avoidance.

Toby spotted her and squealed. “’Lexie, I go to a picnic!” The high-pitched voice wafted across the open space, followed by a sweet giggle. Justin raised an amused gaze and met her eyes. Everything in the room seemed to come to a quiet standstill as the look deepened into a question.

Alex drew in her breath and bit her bottom lip, surprised at the nervous flutter in her stomach. She dropped her eyes and spun away, searching for Martha or Elizabeth in the chattering crowd. What had she seen in his eyes? Dare she hope he might want more than friendship? Would he think her bold that she’d held his gaze?

A gentle hand patted her arm. “Alexia, dear.” Martha stood nearby with her eyebrows raised. “Are you all right? You seem to have a bit of color—did you get too hot? It is rather close in here today.”

“It’s a bit warm, but I’m fine.” Alex turned away and ducked her head.

“Well, then, let’s get the food from the wagon and find a place in the shade. Joe’s spreading our blankets, so we’d best get a move on.”

When Alex glanced back at the spot near the door, Justin and Toby had disappeared. He hadn’t waited to walk with them. What if she’d imagined more from his gaze than he’d meant to convey? He’d made it clear that day in her office that friendship was all he desired. A dull disappointment settled inside, coloring the afternoon in a drab shade of gray.

She stepped outside and her spirit lifted at the sight that met her gaze. Families spread large, colorful quilts under the spreading bows of cedar and fir trees. The unmarried miners attached themselves to a variety of families, squatting on their heels and visiting. Squeals from small children erupted as they escaped the confines of their parents and chased one another across the clearing behind the church.

Delicious smells wafted on the gentle summer breeze, starting a low rumble in Alex’s stomach. After her earlier disappointment, she’d thought she wouldn’t be hungry, but the sight of Martha’s heavily laden basket convinced her otherwise.

Martha lifted a covered platter out of the basket, which Alex knew contained deep-fried chicken. “Come here, child, and help me.” She waved a wrinkled hand at the box near her knee. “You unpack that one. It has the dessert and cold-water jug. Too bad we couldn’t get any milk yesterday, but you can’t hardly beat the likes of our spring water, no-how.”

Alex knelt beside the wooden crate and pulled off the lid. “If Mr. Elton finds out that you brought your famous apple pie, I’m afraid he’ll leave his wife’s side and sneak over here for a piece.” The thought of the banker brought back the memory of her father’s loan against the ranch, and a dull ache returned to Alex’s stomach. Why did life have to be so difficult?

She gave herself a mental shake. Just a couple of days ago she’d turned her problems over to the Lord, and here she was trying to pick them up again. Best to leave them lay and not try to figure out all the answers. God had promised to see her through every difficulty with His grace and strength. Sure, the answers might not be exactly what she expected, but they’d always be His best. That’s where trust came in—letting Him make the decisions when her fingers were itching to take the reins.

Martha peeked inside a large gingham cloth at an abundance of home-baked biscuits. “Clarence is more than welcome to a piece. I brought plenty. Never know who might come hungry.” She pushed up on her knees and peered across the small throng of people gathered under nearby trees. “Where’s my Toby-boy? Justin promised to bring him over. He didn’t take him to sit with Frank and Davis, did he?”

Alex rocked back on her heels then pushed to her feet and shaded her eyes against the early afternoon sun. Elizabeth waved at her from a nearby blanket she shared with her uncle Larry, Sheriff Ramsey, and his wife, Sarah. Too bad Elizabeth didn’t have a beau—with her sweet spirit and gentle nature, she’d make some man a wonderful wife.

Parson Moser strolled from one group to the next, apparently intent on greeting each person who’d come to share the festivities with the church family, regular attendees or not. His booming laugh rang out as he leaned over to ruffle Johnny’s hair. The freckle-faced boy grinned up at the older man, but the chattering crowd drowned out his reply.