Redemption's Edge (8 page)

“Janie,” Mrs. Weston replied in an unsteady voice.

Rachel closed the door and joined her uncle beside the little girl.

“We need to get her fever down.”

Rachel went right to work, gathering what they needed. She’d begun applying a cold cloth to the girl’s face and chest when the door slammed opened.

“Doc, you got to come quick. There’s been an accident and we need your help.” The dirt-covered cowboy pulled his old hat off when he spotted Rachel.

“Son, I’ve got me a sick girl. I can’t go now.”

“But our foreman, Hank Wilson, has been shot. Pelletier, the new owner, said to get you right away.”

Rachel glanced up at the mention of Dax. “Perhaps you should go. I can take care of this.”

Charles looked at his niece, then at the cowboy. “Where’s the bullet?”

“In his shoulder, near his chest.”

“Rachel, I can’t be in two places at once. You have good experience with bullet wounds. You take my bag and head out to the Pelletier ranch. See what you can do while I tend to the child. She has a high fever and may convulse. You don’t have as much experience with the reactions of young children to illness. I’d better stay with her. Take what you need from the cupboard.”

“But—”

“Rachel, you’re a solid nurse and, frankly, better than most doctors I’ve seen. You go. Do what you can for Mr. Wilson.”

She bit her lower lip, deciding it would be futile to argue further. She grabbed her uncle’s medical bag, inserted a few items from the shelves, and turned toward the waiting man.

“I need to get the buggy ready.”

“You ride behind me, ma’am. It’ll be quicker.” The cowboy jammed the hat back on his head, grabbed the bag from her, and dashed out.

“You’re sure…?”

Her uncle glanced up. “Go. You’ll do fine.”

She followed the man outside, offering a brief explanation to Mr. and Mrs. Weston before closing the door. Rachel grabbed the hand he offered and, in one move, he swung her behind him.

“I’m Bull Mason, ma’am,” he called back to her as his horse galloped out of town.

“Rachel Davenport,” she answered, but doubted he’d heard.

It didn’t take long before she saw the ranch house in the distance. Bull stopped and helped her down, handing Rachel the bag before escorting her inside toward a downstairs bedroom. She walked into the room and halted at the sight of Dax leaning over the injured man, trying to stop the bleeding, while an older woman wiped the man’s forehead with a cloth.

“General.” She nodded at Dax as she set the bag down and opened it. “Let me see.”

Even under the circumstances, Dax couldn’t keep a wry smile from forming. It vanished when Rachel pulled back the bandage to examine the wound.

“Rifle shot?”

“Appears so.” Dax stood and pulled the chair away to give Rachel more space. “What can I do to help?”

“Hot water, alcohol, bandages—and wash your hands if you’re planning to help.” She didn’t look up, focusing all her attention on the injured man.

“All right. Everyone out.” Luke herded the others out of the room. “I’ll get the water and alcohol. Bernice, will you grab some bandages?”

She nodded and scurried away, returning a moment later with a handful of makeshift bandages and a couple of towels, handing one to Dax, who’d finished washing his hands in a basin on the nightstand. Luke walked in with a pan of hot water and a bottle of whiskey, then left, closing the door behind him.

Most of the men didn’t leave. Instead, they congregated outside on the porch, talking of the shooting and possible man, or men, behind the action. The only other person with Hank on the western edge of the property was Bull and from his description, the person who pulled the trigger rode a large roan, like the one Drake had ridden onto the ranch several days before.

“Was there anyone else with him?” Luke asked as he leaned against the porch railing, arms crossed.

“Not that I could see. Odd, as I figured him for someone who’d give the order, not pull the trigger.” Bull rubbed a hand over his unshaven jaw.

“But you’re sure it was him?”

Bull paused a moment. “He sat on a big roan, dark hat—same as Drake. Wish I could’ve seen his face.”

“May not be good enough for the sheriff.” The others looked up at Luke’s comment, then glanced at each other.

“We don’t have a sheriff. Haven’t since ours showed up dead a few months ago. Shot in the back.” Ellis threw the piece of leather he’d been working on to the ground.

“The town can’t find a replacement?” Luke asked.

“No one wants the job.” Bull walked down the steps. “I’ll be in the barn.” Even though the ranch often used Noah Brandt as a blacksmith, Bull could do a good job when they couldn’t get to town. It was often the way he chose to think and blow off steam.

Luke watched Bull disappear into the barn. He thought over the man’s words and wondered how hard it would be to attract a lawman to this isolated town at the foot of the Territory Range. The land mass stretched north and south between the border of Montana and Idaho. It seemed a good place for anyone who wanted to start over or get lost. Luke wondered which category he and Dax fell into.

“There it is.” Rachel mumbled more to herself than to the other two who hovered over the bed. She made a slight sound of satisfaction as the bullet clinked into a metal bowl. “Alcohol.” She reached over to accept the bottle Dax offered and poured a generous amount on the hole, then looked up at Mrs. Wilson. “He’s fortunate. The bullet went more into the shoulder area and didn’t clip a lung. Overall, if there’s no infection, he should be ready to ride in a few weeks.”

“I’ll let the men know.” Dax walked to the door, then turned back. “Nice work, Miss Davenport. Thank you.”

The door closed behind him, allowing Rachel to take her first deep breath since she’d arrived. She didn’t know what about the man triggered such intense reactions in her. She’d never experienced anything like the surges of heat, racing heart, and halting breath that seemed to occur around Dax Pelletier. Rachel had seen many men in her job as a nurse. He was, quite simply, the most compelling man she’d ever met.

It had been all she could do to keep her focus on the injured man and not the feelings an innocent touch of his hand would arouse. The reaction unnerved her. She’d wanted to reach over and stroke his arm, touch his face, but held her curiosity in check.

“Miss Davenport?”

The sound of her name pulled Rachel out of her rambling thoughts. “Yes?”

“I can sit with my husband now. You’re probably exhausted. Why don’t I fix you some coffee or tea so you can relax a bit?”

Rachel let out a sigh. “Tea would be wonderful.”

Minutes later, Bernice returned and handed her a cup.

“He’ll be in pain for a while. I can leave some laudanum, if you’d like.” She sipped at her tea and felt the tension flow out of her.

“Hank has no use for that kind of stuff, but you can leave it.” Bernice sat down and took hold of her husband’s hand.

“I believe I’ll get some fresh air.” Rachel walked out the front door to see that everyone had dispersed. She chose a seat in a large rocker and leaned her head against the back, closing her eyes. She must have lost track of time because when she opened them again, the sun had begun to set and Dax stood over her, a slight grin on his face.

He’d been watching Rachel for a long time, her face now eased of the tension he’d seen while she worked on Hank. She seemed to be in a deep sleep, her eyelids fluttering as the cooling breeze washed over her face. At one point, she started, then settled back when whatever menace haunted her had passed. He’d wanted to stroke his knuckles down her cheek, feel the softness and the warmth. More than anything, he wanted to kiss her, feel her lips against his.

“I’m sorry. I must’ve dozed off.” She started to rise, then stopped as Dax placed a hand on her arm.

“No hurry. Supper’s almost ready. You need to eat before we head back to town.”

“Town? Oh, I’d forgotten. I rode out with Mr. Mason.”

“I’ll be taking you back.” Dax took a seat next to her, stretching out his long legs and crossing them at the ankles, folding his arms over his chest.

She stared over at him, swallowing a lump in her throat, already dreading such close proximity to Dax on the ride back. She couldn’t recall ever being physically drawn to a man, at least not to more than a handsome face. Dax Pelletier elicited feelings that were so much more than she ever thought possible, as if a magnet drew her toward him. At the same time, she found it difficult to form a cohesive thought. The entire situation seemed ridiculous.

“I could borrow a horse and get it back to you later.” Rachel shifted to her side in an attempt to create more space.

“No. I’ll take you back.” Dax didn’t say how much he looked forward to riding back with her sitting in front of him on Hannibal. He’d been thinking about it the entire time he’d watched her sleep, thinking about slipping his arm around her waist and holding her tight against his chest as they rode back to Splendor.

Not that anything would ever come of it. He and Luke planned to stay a few weeks, get an understanding of the value, then put the ranch up for sale. Neither had a desire to be tied to a place in the northern reaches of the country, no matter how beautiful or tempting the majestic scenery or the woman who sat next to him. Someday, he might regret the decision. For now, it wasn’t a part of his future.

“Tell me about Splendor.” Dax did have an interest in learning more about the town. However, what he needed now was to hear her voice.

Rachel relaxed and leaned back in her chair. “Well, let’s see. It’s a wonderful town. Everyone is friendly and obliging, always offering what they can to help out a neighbor. About anything you need is available. Not extravagances, you understand, but the basics. I sometimes miss the type of merchandise available in Boston, but not often.” She paused a moment and closed her eyes. “Reverend Paige and his wife are perhaps the nicest people I’ve ever met. They have this…I don’t know…welcoming way about them. Everyone is accepted at their church.”

Dax followed her lead and closed his eyes. “So tell me what you
don’t
like about it.”

“Dust storms, although there’s been just one since I’ve been here. Apparently, they rise up in minutes and, before you know it, you can’t see three feet in front of you. A slight one blew through town the day you and your brother arrived, but they get much worse. When the storm blows through, it leaves grit and dirt everywhere.”

They sat a moment in relaxed silence. Dax could hear her soft breathing and wondered if she’d fallen asleep.

“The sunrises and sunsets.”

“What?” Dax asked, his brows drawing together in a confused frown.

“I love the way the sun peeks up over the eastern mountains and cloaks the town in a soft, yet brilliant light. At sunset, the sky can turn the most amazing shades of pink, orange, yellow, and violet. I’ve never seen anything like it. It truly takes your breath away.”

He glanced over to see her smiling as if she were picturing the scene she’d described.

“You’ll stay then?”

“For a while, at least. I’ve been here since early fall, so not quite a year. According to the people who’ve been here the longest, the winters are the worst and I’ve lived through one already.”

“Was it bad?” Dax had fought through harsh winters during the war and never imagined ever living through them again.

She chuckled. “If you consider snow storms that last a week, leaving mountains of snow behind then, yes, it was a challenge. At the same time, it was exhilarating in a way I can’t describe.”

Dax let her voice wash over him. Something about the tone and intensity worked on his senses, causing his body to respond. He shifted in his chair, attempting to hide his body’s reaction.

“When the snow melts, the grasslands turn an almost translucent green. The countryside is thick and lush. I’d run my hands over it, marveling at the silky feel.” She ran a hand along the arm of her chair in a slow movement, almost stroking it.

Dax watched her hand travel along the wood of the chair, caressing it, and let out a groan.

“Are you all right?” Rachel gazed over at him.