Swept Away (9 page)

She woke up in a room that looked to have seen the business end of a Texas cyclone. Either that or Darius Riker was a complete slob.

There was enough of a mess that it could be both.

She lay in the small bed and listened. There were quiet voices straight below her. Dare spoke in a doctoring kind of voice. His office must have opened for the day.

A look around told her the room did indeed have windows. They were covered with shutters, pulled closed. It was murky, but daylight seeped in.

She wouldn’t be visible if she moved around. But would
the floorboards creak and give her away? She remembered no loud creaking when she’d walked the few feet to the bed last night. No sound when she’d lain on the bed. But she’d paid scant attention.

Then she remembered the moment when she’d awakened in that storeroom and thought Virgil had finally caught her. Just thinking about it made terror stoke her belly, even knowing he was probably dead.

She had to do something, keep busy, or she’d let the ugly memories of her last few years take over. She risked sitting up, very slowly, but she couldn’t risk walking around . . . so she reached for the nearest stack. It was clothing heaped high enough it might possibly conceal a bedside chest.

It was as if Ma Reinhardt were scolding in her head, telling her she was lazy, an idler, ungrateful to the family who’d taken her in.

Taken her in and stolen her land and treated her like a slave.

The terror and the fact that it wasn’t in Ruthy to be idle with or without Ma Reinhardt’s nagging made her reach for a wadded-up shirt on the top and start folding it.

As she worked her way down the pile, she realized exactly
what
she was folding. Women’s clothes. Where did women’s clothes come from in a town with hardly any women? And more important, what size were they? She looked down at her battered dress. It had been in bad shape before she’d taken a long ride on a flooded river.

There was no woman living in this house, of that Ruthy was sure. She’d seen the mess in Dare’s kitchen, after all. No woman would put up with that.

Which meant these clothes were very likely unspoken for.

And she could do one more thing in complete silence. Discard the dress she was wearing for this very pretty green calico.

If Dare wanted it back, he’d probably let her wear it while she washed her other one more thoroughly.

With a quick glance at the locked door, which meant she could be completely private, it was the work of moments to change her clothes all the way to her skin. Feeling more decent and orderly, she decided to make everything within reach orderly.

She set to work.

“Let me in, Rosie.” Luke rapped on her door. “Dare’s bringing breakfast up. His office is empty for the minute.” A clicking of the door’s lock told Luke she was awake and nearby.

The door swung open. “My name is Ruthy MacNeil. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you straightaway yesterday, but I was worried about being found. I’ve calmed down now, and I’d like you to stop calling me Rosie.”

“I like Rosie better.” Luke looked at her red curls and couldn’t hold back a smile. She’d brushed her hair, and instead of tight ringlets, her hair hung in pretty waves. Her clothes were clean, not what she’d had on before. The skin was peeling off her nose so she was still a little worse for wear, but she looked very nice for a woman he’d fished out of a river just yesterday.

“What have you done?” Dare spoke with sharp surprise from behind Luke.

“She’s just letting us in for breakfast, Dare.” Luke frowned at Dare’s tone just as Dare shoved past him.

“You cleaned this room?” Dare held a metal tray covered with food. He’d piled eggs on one plate, side pork on another. A third plate was heaped with fried potatoes, and he’d set a tin pot of coffee in the one remaining corner. There were spare plates stacked beneath the potatoes. Forks and tin cups were dropped into the spare spaces. Luke’s stomach rumbled just from the smell.

Dare set the tray on a small square table. “I didn’t even know there was a table in here. I’ve only been in this room once since I moved in. I opened the door, saw nothing but stacks of junk, and swung the door closed fast.”

“It is a complete waste of time to just sit around.” Rosie centered the tray on the table. “Idle hands are the devil’s playground, you know. Most of the things needed only to be folded and tidied and tucked into drawers or crates that were already here.”

Luke saw one wall of the room stacked with boxes. Tidy boxes. He’d bet she did all of that while she was locked in here.

Dare sank into one of three matching wooden chairs set on three sides of the table; the fourth side was pushed up against the wall under a stack of boxes. There was barely room to pass between the bed and the table. A chest of drawers stood beside the bed, cleared off except for a tidy lace circle with a brush and comb and mirror centered on the lace.

“I’ve had a steady stream of patients for the last couple of hours, which is why I couldn’t get up here until now.” Dare’s voice had more of a bite than Luke liked, especially as it was directed at Rosie. “Someone might have heard you moving around.”

“Yes, I realized that.” Rosie tugged on the corner of the bedspread, already very neat, but apparently she thought
she could improve on it. “If I needed to take a step, I listened for your voice and could tell when you were walking your patients out. Then I’d move to another section of the room and sat quietly while I tidied it.”

“You bought this house with this junk already in it?” Luke sat at the table, complete with tablecloth.

“These things belong to someone else?” Rosie seemed very interested in that.

“I mentioned that the families moved out of Broken Wheel. Whoever owned the house left a lot of stuff behind. It all came with the place, so now I own it. I need to get rid of everything, but I’ve stayed busy doctoring and it’s been easy to ignore it.”

“Get rid of?” Rosie jumped as if she’d been poked with a pin. “So then if there are clothes of a size that might fit me, I could . . . could . . .”

“You could have them, with my thanks for finding a use for them.” Dare made a grand gesture. “There’s nothing in this room I want.”

“How can you say that when you don’t know what’s in here? You might be giving away valuable things.”

Dare paused, his brow lowered as he thought that over. “If you find a satchel filled with gold coins, I’ll kick up a fuss. Otherwise it’s all yours.”

“I’ve been through most everything and there’s not a speck of gold to be found. But that box right there”—she pointed to a crate sitting by itself—“has women’s clothes about my size. I’m wearing a dress, a pair of shoes, and a few other . . . um, garments I found in here.”

Since Luke didn’t see anything on her but the dress, he decided the garments were unmentionables. He was glad she hadn’t mentioned them.

“I would be sincerely grateful for the use of these things—that is, if you’re sure.”

“They’re yours.” Dare poured himself a cup of coffee.

Luke was starving and in no mood to talk about the contents of a junk room. He’d just spent the night in a cramped attic with a ceiling three feet above the floor. So he’d been lying down with few other choices. There was so much junk in the attic, he’d been hard-pressed to find a space big enough to stretch out and sleep. And now, as he considered it, it made sense that Dare hadn’t accumulated this many things in the two months he’d been living in Broken Wheel.

Luke had to admit, it had never occurred to him to tidy up.

“I did a bit of dusting, but the room needs to be scrubbed. I’ll need warm water to do it right.” Rosie began dishing up a plate for Luke. He enjoyed her fussing even as he felt guilty over her serving him.

Not that he could have stopped her.

She had an oddly fierce look in her eye, as if an undone task before her was an insult, a sin she was committing by not setting to work.

There were three empty plates. Rosie waved Dare toward the table. “You haven’t had time to eat either, unless you got a very early start. I haven’t heard you take a break all morning.”

Dare sat as Rosie served him breakfast. She asked, “Did that woman come back last night?”

“Nope. But after she and Bullard left, I had a wrangler come in with a broken arm. Got in a fight over at the saloon. I got a couple hours’ sleep before my first patient of the morning.”

Rosie patted Dare on the shoulder as she set a filled plate before him. That irked Luke for no reason he could understand. But she shouldn’t be putting her hands on a man, and especially not Dare Riker. He’d been around a bit too long to be fit company for a young woman like Rosie.

Since she quit touching Dare right away, Luke didn’t say anything. Instead, he kept plowing through his breakfast.

“I got a chance to talk with Jonas this morning.” Dare picked up his fork. “He’s been up all night. Hingle died and his brother needed company. The funeral will be today, so we won’t see Jonas until after that’s over.”

“You didn’t get called in?” Rosie asked. “Didn’t Mr. Hingle need a doctor?”

“I’ve doctored him ever since I came to town. He’s a lunger, who was a long way gone when I got here. I’ve treated him to the extent I could. Not much to be done for consumption when a man’s as sick as Hingle was. He and his brother knew it and had accepted it. Shame, though, as Hingle was a good man. This town will miss him.”

“You all came to Broken Wheel to help me, and you’re so busy with your jobs I’m going to make things tough.” Luke hadn’t meant to visit his trouble on his old friends, but it had happened anyway.

“What you’ve got to do needs doing, Luke. We need to rid this town of Flint Greer for more reasons than just to get your ranch back and get justice for your pa. I’ve found out Greer was a carpetbagger who came down from the North after the war. He was just starting out when he killed your pa. Since the day your pa died, he’s stolen more land, killed good men, and driven others off their property until he owns almost every square foot of land all the way around town. What he doesn’t own is controlled by
Comanches and Kiowas. There’s no chance for this town to grow with the current circumstances. You’ve got right on your side, and I’ll be proud to back you while we clear out Greer and his hired guns.”

“I mailed all the papers to Jonas because I knew he’d gotten to town. If they got here, Jonas should’ve seen Vince about them and things should be in order to evict Greer.” Luke poured more coffee, thinking of all that lay ahead.

Rosie flinched when Luke poured, as surely as if he’d yelled at her for being lazy. The woman clearly intended to care for all of them—and the rest of the world while she was at it. If she showed signs of boredom, he’d swap rooms with her and let her tidy up the attic, too. That’d slow her down.

“You’re talking about the papers including a letter from a judge?”

“Yep.”

“They’re here, and we’re ready to back you when you serve them.”

Luke looked at his friend and shook his head. “I should’ve never let you get involved. It’s my fight.”

“Couldn’t’ve stopped us, Luke. You were always the kid among the Regulators. You need your elders to help you along.”

Luke’s head came up, annoyed, but it was an old joke. He’d almost missed being teased by his barely older friends. Almost. “I was doing a full day’s work on the ranch when you were still sittin’ on your mama’s lap and sucking your thumb.”

Dare laughed. “Well, you always acted more like a kid than the rest of us.”

“Or maybe you all acted like a bunch of old codgers.”
Luke pounded a fist on the table and made the plates and cups jump and clatter. “I could take every one of you at the same time, if I had a need to.”

Still chuckling, Dare said, “You always were an easy one to stir up, Luke.”

“Guess I’d better not slug a man who’s putting his life on the line to help me.” Since he had no plans to punch his friend, Luke relaxed his fist and went back to his coffee.

“Reckon not.” Dare reached for the pot, but Rosie beat him to pouring. “You’ll spend the rest of the day hiding.”

“I don’t care much for hiding.” Luke took a long drink from his tin cup.

“Tomorrow morning you’d best get up and out early, hide in the hills during the day until we can get everything in place. I expect Big John to ride in soon.”

“What’s a Regulator?” Rosie asked.

“It’s how we met in the war.” Luke knew he sounded curt. She didn’t deserve that. She hadn’t brought it up. “We were law and order in Andersonville. No time to talk about it now. Dare might get a patient any minute.”

“Can I trade places with you, Luke? I’ll spend the day in the attic.”

Surprised, he forgot about Andersonville, to the extent he ever did. He’d thought of giving her that mess to deal with, but he’d’ve never suggested it. Maybe it wasn’t about working. “Don’t you feel safe down here?”

“It’s fine, but it’s all clean now, short of me scrubbing and hauling wash water up and down the stairs. I can’t do that with patients in and out. It sounds like the attic could use some attention.”

Luke groaned.

“You’re a hard worker before the Lord, Ruthy MacNeil.”
Dare laughed and shook his head. “You have got yourself one fine woman, Luke. You planning to hang on to her?”