A Kiss for Cade (29 page)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

I
don’t want soup! I want a meal,” Cade demanded.

“It’s not soup, it’s broth!” Zoe took a deep breath, and then she tipped the sheet out from under him. He landed with a bounce on the bare mattress, glaring at her.

“Broth is not soup!” she repeated. “And stop complaining. Since everyone’s gone home, you have the bunk now, not some uncomfortable floor pallet.”

“Broth is broth. It’s runny, flavored water, even worse than soup. At least soup has something in it, like meat and potatoes. A man can’t live on runny water or in this miserable jail.”

“Runny water is all you have. Eat it or go hungry.”

Wearily, Cade sat up on the bunk. He picked up the bowl of broth and stared at it. “I’ll eat it and go hungry.” He took a sip, frowning. “How do I know this is measles?”

“It only makes sense. You’ve been around the sick, and you were out at the Brightons’ place. Did you have the measles when you were little?”

He shook his head. “I’d remember something this annoying—and I sure don’t remember Ma starving me to death.”

Zoe plumped a pillow. “You are the worst patient on earth. All you’ve done is complain.”

He shoved the bowl of broth aside and lay back. “I want out of here.”

“‘Here’ meaning the jail? Or ‘here’ meaning Winterborn?” She knew the answer without asking. He wanted out of Winterborn, away from the measles, from Laticia Wiseman, and from her. He sat up again, reaching for the broth. Tasting another spoonful, he made a face.

“It needs salt.”

“It’s already too salty.”

“You’re trying to starve me.”

“Starving would be too slow, too humane.” She paused. Tapping her fingers on her temple as if devising a sinister plan for his death, she leaned closer to his ear and whispered, “Perhaps I’ve poisoned the broth—yes—or, even better, perhaps I’ll pick some poisonous mushrooms and have Glori-Lee slip them into your food tonight. Poisonous mushrooms. A rather nasty death, but then you’re not going anywhere for a few days. You’ve got time to die slowly, agonizingly slowly. Yes, I must find a mushroom that will cause drooling, foaming at the mouth, maybe nausea, difficulty in swallowing, and bloating. Severe bloating is always a nice touch. Then there’s the hope of delirium, hallucinations, eyes bulging, fatigue, fainting—”

Cade grinned as he set the broth aside and lay back. “Tell GloriLee that I want a steak. A big, juicy one with potatoes swimming in gravy.”

“Don’t we all?” Zoe picked up the dirty linen and left the cell.

“Get me another pillow!” he called.

“Get it yourself.”

“Come on, Red. My head hurts.”

“There’s an extra pillow right beside you.”

“My water’s tepid. I need cool water. My mouth’s dry.”

“You should have drunk the broth. It’s wet.”

“For a nurse, you sure are—”

Zoe glanced up as someone entered the jail. Ignoring Cade, she said, “Hi, Pop. How’s the leg this morning?”

“Stiff as a poker.” Pop limped to the desk and lowered his bulk into the chair. Propping his crutches against the wall, he sat for a moment, catching his breath. “I’ve missed this place.”

“No reason you can’t resume your normal duties.” She folded a blanket and laid it over a chair. “You’ve had the measles, haven’t you?”

“Had ’em when I was a young’un.” He glanced at Cade. “Why you got your face covered with a pillow?”

His reply was muffled. “I feel like that rotten broth.”

Pop chuckled. “Sounds like he’s gettin’ better.”

“He must be. He’s cranky as an old bear. The pillow over his face is his not-too-subtle way of blocking me out.”

Zoe tidied up, stacking blankets in a pile. “Gracie said you called a meeting at the town hall last night. What about?”

“Gracie didn’t tell you?”

“Only that you announced the sickness was measles instead of the fever.”

“That’s what I told them. I thought it’d be easier to get the town together than send someone from house to house.”

“I’m sure everyone was relieved at the news.” She carried a stack of sheets past the cell and stored them on the shelf.

“They seemed to be.”

“Anything else going on?”

“Folks are up in arms about Laticia. Don’t want her comin’ round to cause trouble. You know how she can be.”

Zoe knew exactly how Laticia was. She’d been at the jail twice in the past twenty-four hours, harassing Cade. But Gracie’s hospitality and unequaled pot roast had kept Laticia comfortable in her quarters and likely to stay past her welcome.

“Well,” said Zoe, “in a few days Cade will be well enough to settle his business with Bonnie and Seth.” It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but she had to face reality. Without the children, she might sell the store, maybe wait tables for Glori-Lee. She had tried to hold on to Jim’s heritage, but she was too tired to fight anymore.

The front door opened, and Seth walked in. Pop smiled. “Morning, Seth. How’s Bonnie?”

Seth took off his hat. “She’s feelin’ much better.”

“Stay for a cup of coffee?”

“No, can’t socialize. Came to talk to Cade.”

Pop nodded toward the bunk. “You’ll need to take the pillow off his face so he can hear you.”

Seth stepped into the cell. Bending over, he lifted the pillow. “Kolby?”

Cade blinked.

“Got some bad news.”

Zoe winced when she heard the gravity in Seth’s voice. Was there anything but bad news in Winterborn?

“What?” Cade asked.

“Me and Bonnie can’t take the kids. We had a long talk last night, and we decided we want to have a couple more young’uns of our own to fill that extra room I’m building.”

Cade swung his feet to the side of the bunk and sat up. “What?”

“I know it’s disappointing, but me and the missus don’t think we ought to take on Addy’s kids.”

“But the kids would make you a good family,” Cade argued.

“Four more would likely be a strain, Kolby.”

Cade got up from the bunk and started to pace. The worry in his eyes broke Zoe’s heart. “I was counting on you, Seth.”

Zoe swallowed a leap of anticipation when she realized Cade was slowly running out of options. Surely Seth’s decision would make him realize he had to give the kids to her. He had no other choice.

Seth reached out to shake hands. “I hope you don’t hold it agin me, but I thought you’d want to know now rather than later.”

Cade shook hands, nodding. “Sorry it didn’t work out.”

Seth put his hat on. “Hope you’re feelin’ better soon. When the rash comes, a little bakin’ sody on those spots will help the itchin’.”

Seth left the jail, closing the door behind him. Zoe could have heard a pin drop as Cade sank back to the bunk and put his head in his hands.

Pop sat at the desk, running his forefinger and thumb through his mustache. Outside, Seth whistled to his team, and a moment later his buckboard rattled off.

“Well, now.” Pop lowered his splintered leg to the floor. “Who wants a cup of coffee?”

“Zoe,” Cade called, “get me a steak from Glori-Lee’s.”

“Glori-Lee is right in the middle of cooking dinner. You’ll have to wait.”

“I’m not waiting. I’m hungry. I need to get out of here and take care of business. What was the name of that Amish family you mentioned, Pop? The couple over near Salina? I’ll ride out there after dinner.” He stood up and then swayed before he could take a step.

“You’re not riding anywhere,” Zoe scolded. “You’d scare a body to death, white as a sheet, shaky legged and wild eyed, talkin’ crazy with fever. Get back on that bunk!”

“I’ve got four kids who need a home. They’re not going to get one with me lying around here.” Cade reached a trembling arm out for his hat, holding on to the bunk rail for support. “If you won’t go after that steak, I will.”

Zoe blocked his exit from the cell. “Over my dead body.”

Cade towered above her, his features hard. “I’d prefer to do this peaceful, but I am bigger than you.”

She lifted her chin. “You’re not leaving this cell.”

“Step aside, Red.”

“No.” She crossed her arms and planted her weight. “This could be easily settled if you would only listen to common sense. Bonnie and Seth can’t take the children. Everyone else has children, or doesn’t want more. That only leaves me—me, who is ready and willing to take them, so you can get on with whatever it is you’re in such an all-fired hurry to get on with!”

“Get out of my way, Zoe.”

“I have your gun.” Her chin motioned to the cabinet. “You’re not going anywhere.” His dark look didn’t shake her.

“You think I’d let you disarm me?”

“I did, didn’t I?”

Leaning down, he took a small pistol from one of his boots. The weapon dangled from his forefinger by the trigger guard. “Oops.”

His insolence did not deter her, nor did his cocky attitude. “When you’re sleeping, I’ll get that too.”

“I said, step out of my way.”

She swallowed, holding him at arm’s length when he tried to push past her. “Pop! Help!”

Pop got up from the desk and hobbled to the cell. He paused, his eyes focusing on a corner near the bunk. “Is that Bonnie’s ear-bob?”

Zoe’s gaze swung to the cell floor. “Where?”

“Right there, beneath the bunk. That sparkly gizbob. She’ll be wantin’ that, won’t she?”

Pushing past Cade, Zoe walked into the cell, dropped to her knees, and peered under the bunk. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

“Show her, Cade.” Pop pointed with one crutch. “It’s right there.”

Cade knelt beside Zoe. “I don’t see anything.”

Her head shot up and banged against his when she heard the door of the cell clang shut.

Kolby got to his feet. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Pop turned the key in the lock, a big grin on his face. “I’m doing you a favor, son. You two ain’t comin’ out ’til you decide who’s gonna take those kids. You or her. You got the whole dadburned town in a uproar tryin’ to figure this thing out! And now Laticia’s breathing down our necks. Some of us need relief!”

“Pop! Have you lost your mind?” Zoe ran to the cell door, clasping the bars. “Open this door immediately! The children need—”

“I’ll look after the children,” Pop said. “You just get your business in order.”

“I have ironing sprinkled down, and it’ll mildew!”

“That’s a mighty good incentive to get this over with as quick as possible, don’t you think?”

“Pop, open this door,” Cade demanded. “I haven’t got time to play games.”

Pop hung the key over a hook in the far corner of the room. “Sorry. I can’t hear nothin’ but Ben Pointer’s hammer hittin’ against the anvil.”

“Pop!” Zoe and Cade chorused loudly.

The sheriff limped back to the cell. “You two can stay in there ’til you’re old and gray, or you can sit down and talk this thing out like sensible adults. It’s your choice, but you ain’t leavin’ ’til you’ve worked it out. When you come out of that cell, the arguments will be over, and those kids better have a home.”

Zoe stared at him.

Pop glared back. “Your pa would whup you for actin’ this way.”

“This isn’t fair. Cade has his mind made up. For his own selfish, impractical, improbable reasons, he won’t let me have the children.”

Cade’s jaw firmed. “She’s not getting them.”

“See? He’ll never consent to give them to me.”

“Never,” Cade agreed. “So stop wasting our time, Pop.”

“That’s too bad. You’re talkin’ like you’re going to be in there a long spell. But I have faith in you. If you think about this long and hard enough, the answer will come to you.” He leaned closer to the bars. “I’ll give you a hint. The answer’s right in front of your noses. Has been all along.”

Cade rattled the bars. “Why don’t you just tell us what you have in mind and spare us the trouble?”

“Nope. That’s your job.”

Turning, he thumped out the front door and closed it behind him.

“Sawyer!”

Sawyer sprang to his feet. “Yeah, Pop?”

“Still got that credible stuff?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t let anyone come in ’cept Glori-Lee with the food.”

Sawyer grinned, patting his badge. “Yes, sir.”

Nodding, Pop hobbled across the street.