Marry Me (51 page)

“Jack Beatty died this morning,” she said. “That’s your doing. It was typhoid.”

“I don’t know how that makes it my doing.”

“It’s probably better if Coleridge explains.” Standing where she was, she could no longer see her husband at the back door, but when her eyes darted in the direction of the kitchen, so did Judah’s. He couldn’t mask his surprise. He’d been unaware that some time ago his audience had doubled. “Cole?” she called.

He came around the corner so she could see him again. He cradled the Remington in his arms.

“Where’s Wyatt?” she asked. She’d been wondering about the sheriff since Cole first began inching his way into the house.

“Around,” he said. “He’ll be along directly.”

She nodded. “I’m going to go around the table and take the Henry down.” She gave Judah the widest circle she could. To his credit, he was properly cautious about the rifle in Cole’s arms and didn’t make a move one way or the other. Rhyne set the walking stick against the wall and removed the Henry rifle. “You keep it clean, Judah?” she asked, looking it over. “You know how dust and dirt can gum it up.” She ran her hand along the brass finish and then checked its load. The weapon was properly called a Henry Lever-Action Cartridge Magazine Rifle, and there were folks that swore you could load it on Sunday and fire it all week. They weren’t far wrong since it held fifteen cartridges.

“Seems like you might have been expecting trouble,” she said. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen this better cared for except when I was doing it.” Rhyne glanced at Cole. “Judah can’t shoot worth a lick, but when you can empty this in about half a minute, something usually gets hit.” She looked over at his weapon. “Is that a Remington?”

“It is.”

“Henry went into business with Remington, you know.” “As a matter of fact, I did.”

Smiling, she raised the rifle while Cole continued to cradle his. Her stance didn’t waver. Judah’s eyes did. “It’d be better if he heard it from you,” she said to Cole. “I don’t think he has a notion about germs. Probably doesn’t know he’s got rods in his guts.”

Cole nodded when Judah’s head swiveled sharply in his direction. “She’s right. I might have said it differently, but I couldn’t have said it better. You’re a typhoid carrier, Judah. Everything we know points to it.”

Judah jerked his chin at Cole, unimpressed. “What is it that you think you know?”

“You’ve been making people sick for a long time. You have a bacterium … a germ … inside you. It lives in your bowels.”

“That so? Well, I’ve never been sick, so I guess you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cole nodded. “It makes what I’m going to tell more difficult to comprehend, but it doesn’t make it untrue.” In terms so clear and concise that they could not be misunderstood, Cole described the infection, how it was spread, and why Judah presented a danger when he prepared food for others.

“As you discovered,” he concluded, “it’s an imperfect weapon when you want to use it against an individual. You can’t control the timing or the course of the illness. You can’t be certain the target of your enmity will sicken or die.” He tilted his head in Rhyne’s direction and watched Judah’s pale blue eyes follow. “If you wanted her dead, Judah, there were surer ways to do it than by poisoning the town. If you only meant for her to suffer, then I’d have to say you chose your weapon well.”

Judah’s gaze slid back to Cole. “What makes you and her so sure I’m the one that started the fever? What did you say I was? A carrier?” When Cole nodded, Judah went on. “Well, if that’s true–and I sure would be interested in how you prove a thing like that–then it could be I’m not the only one. Besides that, I haven’t been to town all winter.” He rubbed his hip. “And you know I still got the weakness in me from the stroke.”

Rhyne snorted. “Too late for that, Judah. Cole might not have seen you jump out of your chair like you had springs in your backside, but I know he caught sight of the end of your leap. Let’s not have any more talk about weakness unless it’s in reference to your mind.”

The corners of Cole’s mouth twitched. “There you have it.”

“I reckon you think so,” said Judah. “But I told you, I haven’t been in town all winter. I sent Danny Beaufort in a couple of times. Now, if you think someone’s a carrier, maybe you should talk to him.”

Cole shook his head. “We know you’ve been around. That was clear to Wyatt and me the last time we came out together.”

“How’s that?”

“The splinter in your hand, Judah. The one that you got from blowing up a stump using a defective fuse from the mine. That cord was what took Ezra Reilly’s hand and almost took his life. You were fortunate that all you got was a splinter.”

Judah looked down at the appendage as if it offended him. “Hurt like hell, though.”

“I’m sure it did,” Cole said neutrally. “Wyatt figured you stole the cord from the mine.”

“He didn’t arrest me, did he? So he must not have been too sure of himself.”

“It was more like he thought you got what you deserved.”

Judah shrugged. “Being at the mine doesn’t put me in town.”

Before Cole could respond, Rhyne spoke up. “You left that note I told you about with the judge.”

“I
wrote
the note,” he said. “You have me there. But that doesn’t mean I gave it to him. Ask Danny Beaufort how it ended up under Elijah Wentworth’s door.” Judah leaned his hip against the table and folded his arms across his chest. He ignored Rhyne in favor of leveling his gaze on Cole. “You look confused, Doctor. You don’t know what she’s talking about, do you? Rhyne’s got her secrets, don’t ever think she doesn’t.”

“He thinks I’m the judge’s spawn and Delia’s sin,” Rhyne said bluntly. “And I’m not inclined to disagree with him. It improves my pedigree.”

Unlike Judah, Cole appreciated her dark, wry humor. He didn’t attempt to hide his amusement from the older man. “Whether you delivered the note yourself, or had Danny do it for you, hardly matters now. Sir Nigel has sworn to the fact that he employed you at his hotel. There are other employees that will swear to the same.”

Rhyne exhaled softly. While not unexpected, Cole’s confirmation still had the power to squeeze her chest. “Sir Nigel knew?”

Cole shook his head; his eyes never left Judah’s. “No. He didn’t see through Judah’s disguise. Neither did anyone else. There’s a good chance we’ll find the clothes and wig he used in the trunks in the root cellar.” His expression turned thoughtful as he regarded Judah’s stony features. “I expected to find you clean shaven, but I suppose you must have seen Rhyne coming and prepared for her, or perhaps it’s only that you missed your beard. You have a habit of stroking it, I’ve noticed.”

Cole’s gaze dropped to Judah’s wiry beard. “Do you want to take it off yourself?”

Judah didn’t miss the threat implicit in Cole’s question. He unfolded his arms, raised his hands, and slowly and gingerly began removing the beard. The glue made the piece difficult to lift away from his face. His skin was stretched and distorted as he tugged.

Rhyne’s fingers itched to rip it off his face, but the revulsion she felt at touching him kept her away. She tried not to show her disgust when he smiled at her.

“You didn’t realize, did you?” he said, tossing the beard aside.

Rhyne watched it skitter across the table. It looked like a varmint. She swiveled the Henry and fired once. The unnatural creature jumped off the table and fell to the floor where it lay without moving. The bullet splintered wood on the opposite wall.

She kicked aside the ejected cartridge and leveled the rifle at Judah again. Rhyne thought it was probably equal parts fear and astonishment that had made him jump back from the table. Cole, she noticed, held his ground, although his expression had darkened considerably.

“I had an itch,” she told him.

“So it seems.” He returned his attention to Judah. “Perhaps the next time you’re feeling smug, you’ll keep it to yourself.” He inclined his head toward Rhyne. “She has an itch.”

Judah used the back of one of the chairs at the table to steady himself. He scowled at Rhyne, but he didn’t speak to her. In the end, he was the one that looked away. He picked at the remnants of glue on his face, flicked them away, and then rubbed the gray stubble on his jaw with his knuckles.

Cole looked him over. “Rhyne warned me that you could make yourself unrecognizable. I thought of what you’d put on for a role, not what you’d take off. Looking at your face now, I don’t think I’d have known you on the street. It was clever of you to shave.”

“If you say so.” It was an indifferent reply. Even a modest smile would have got him shot.

“It might have worked,” said Cole. “In fact, it actually did, since Sir Nigel never once suspected he’d hired Judah Abbot.” He paused, giving Judah the opportunity to ask what had given him away, but the man had a better rein on his curiosity and pride than Cole had credited.

Rhyne couldn’t help herself as the truth came to her. She chuckled softly, drawing Judah’s attention. She used her chin to direct his gaze to his own hand, the right one, where his index finger was cleaved off at the first joint.

“I reckon that what you’re missing there is something folks’d take notice of, especially when you’re hiring on as a cook.” She shook her head. “That’s not the sort of thing you can hide. All the chopping and dicing and dressing. They were bound to see it.”

Cole thought it was a good thing Judah had no weapon. He looked like a man with an itch. “It didn’t cause you to be recognized while you were employed at the Commodore, but afterward, when the sheriff made his inquiries, it was what identified you.”

Judah folded the offending hand into a tight fist. “It doesn’t mean I did what you said. A man needs to have money in his pocket now and again. There’s always something needing fixed. There’s feed and seed to buy. I can’t always make a trade for supplies. I took work I knew.”

“You know mining and acting and building,” said Cole. “I understand you tried your hand at a lot of trades, but you took up work that experience had shown would cause harm to others.”

“How do you know what experience showed me?”

“You’re right. I don’t know what lessons you learned.”

“Then I guess you don’t have anything else to say to me. It’s an interesting story, the one about those creatures living inside me, but that’s all it is.”

“No, I’m afraid not.
That
I can prove.”

“Prove? How?”

“Samples. That’s why I’m here.” Cole’s regard was frank. “I need to collect some of your urine, your feces, and your saliva.”

Judah didn’t blink. “Just show me where you want me to piss, shit, and spit, and as long as you’re pointing to your boots or hers, I’m happy to oblige.”

“You can make this difficult, Judah, but it won’t change anything. I’m not leaving without the samples.”

“Where’s Wyatt?” asked Judah, his eyes darting toward the windows. “Doctoring doesn’t give you authority.

Where’s the sheriff?”

“He’s on the ridge waiting to pick you off if you step outside without me.” Cole spoke the lie without a flicker of remorse. He lifted up the collar of his coat to reveal the tin badge beneath it. “I’m standing in for that no-account Beatty boy.” He let the collar fall back. “I have a warrant. Wyatt thought that’d be best.” Cradling the Remington in one arm, he reached inside his jacket and withdrew a piece of paper folded into quarters. He tossed it on the table for Judah.

Judah stared at it for a long moment before he picked it up. He began to read as he unfolded it, and when he came to the signature at the end, the irony was not lost on him.

Judge Elijah Wentworth had penned his name with a bold flourish and a steady hand.

Epilogue

Mrs. Theodore Easter
Above Easter’s Bakery on Euclid
Reidsville, Colorado

Coleridge Monroe, M.D.
3 Newton
Reidsville, Colorado

22 July 1885

Dear Dr. Monroe,

After careful examination of the particulars of your position and performance as Town Doctor these ten months past, the Reidsville Physician Search Committee is prepared to retain your services. It is the hope of the Committee that you are desirous of remaining in Reidsville and serving the good folk in this capacity.

The Committee compels me to mention that your extraordinary dedication has not gone unnoticed, especially as it was so evident during the Hard Times of the Fever Outbreak, Further, I must inform you that fifty-six unsolicited testimonials in favor of engaging you as Town Doctor were reviewed by the Committee and provided further evidence of your excellent character and considerable skill (and also the good judgment of this Committee in making you the initial offer).

We eagerly await the favor of your reply and remain hopeful that your interest has not changed.

Yours truly,
Ann Marie Easter
President, Reidsville Physician Search Committee

Cole angled the letter on the desktop so that Rhyne could read it over his shoulder. He merely smiled when he heard Whitley’s small sound of distress. Impatient for news, she was leaning forward from the other side of the desk and trying to read the letter while it was still upside down.

Rhyne gave Cole’s shoulder a light squeeze to indicate she’d finished reading. “Fifty-six testimonials, all of them unsolicited,” she said. “That’s quite something.”

“Yes,” he said. “It is.”

Whitley craned her neck to get a better view of the letter. “Where does it say that? I didn’t see that.”

Cole and Rhyne exchanged glances as Whitley’s avid interest in the letter kept her from meeting their eyes. Before his sister turned herself inside out, Cole rotated Mrs. Easter’s letter so she could read it.