Much Ado About Marshals (Hearts of Owyhee) (2011) (3 page)

The burly blacksmith, Jonas Howard, put the tack he’d been oiling aside and stood, shaking his head. “What’s the bee in your bonnet this time?”

“I just want to get a little air.” She slipped the bit in the mare’s mouth and fastened the headstall.

Jonas flopped the blanket and sidesaddle on Gal and cinched it tight. “Sarah was in here a while ago looking for you.”

Daisy needed to get away from everyone, including her best friend, so she pretended like Jonas hadn’t mentioned his daughter. Daisy had a new
Honey Beaulieu
mystery waiting for her, just the distraction she needed from the handsome man she’d hired to be marshal.

Jonas patted the mare on the rump. “Sarah said the new marshal hasn’t been sworn in yet. You gonna wait until he’s on his feet?”

How did Sarah know that? She turned her head to hide her frown from Jonas. “No, Dad will do it later today, after he closes the store.”

“Doc says the marshal will stay at your folks’ house.”

Her house? She fanned herself and changed the subject. “It’s certainly a warm spring. The snow’s already melting off
War
Eagle
Mountain
, Iris says, and
Jordan
Creek
’s running high. I guess the
Masonic
Temple
’s practically floating.”

Jonas seemed to take her babbling in stride. “That’s what they get for building it astraddle a creek. Don’t make a whole lot of sense.”

Glad she’d diverted his attention, she mounted and wiggled around on the sidesaddle until she was comfortable. “Let’s go, Gal.” She gave her horse a nudge and charged out of the livery.

As she turned onto the street, a man walked in front of her. Gal slid to a stop and Daisy nearly kept on going. She pulled leather and managed to keep her seat, but bit her tongue.

She pressed her hand to her breast and tried to catch just one little breath. Dang it all anyway!

Bosco Kunkle patted Gal on the neck. “In a hurry there, little lady?”

The man who’d brought the marshal to town held out his hand to assist her down. Mr. Kunkle’s pants were dusty and his hair held the crease of his missing hat.

Daisy declined his offer to help her dismount. “I’m so sorry.” And she truly was. That her impulsiveness got her in trouble more often than not was bad enough, but she felt awful when it harmed others. “Are you hurt?”

“Nope.” He picked up his slightly bent hat, dusted it off, and jammed it on his head. “How’s Cole?”

“Cole?”

“Uh, yeah. The marshal.”

“The marshal’s name is Sidney Adler. Why’d you call him Cole?”

Chapter 2

“Sidney Adler, huh?” Cole shook his head. “You have to feel sorry for a fellow with a moniker like that.”

“Yup, that’s what the little lady said his name was, right after she kerplunked back on the leather.” With a dramatic swoop of his hands, Bosco demonstrated her abrupt meeting with the saddle. He shook his head and grinned, showing the gap where a front tooth once grew. “Pretty little thing. I told her that we been calling you Cole for years, and I s’pect you’d want her to call you that.”

Cole blew out a deep breath. All he wanted Daisy Gardner to call him was g-o-n-e. That woman was nothing but trouble. And too damned pretty for her own good. “Enough of that. You have to get me home. Now.”

“No sirree, can’t do it,” Bosco disallowed, shaking his head more than necessary. “Doc Mabry says we can move you over to the
Gardners
’ if we use a stretcher and don’t jar you none, but you could bust that there wound wide open and bleed to death. Doc says the bullet scratched the main artery, and if you start bleeding when he ain’t around to stitch you back up, you’ll kick the bucket for sure.”

Cole knew he’d lost a lot of blood, but he healed fast. This time he’d have to heal damn fast.

He raised his head from the pillow as he drew his Colt from under the sheets and stuck it under Bosco’s nose. “I will
not
stay at the
Gardners
’ house. Move me to the marshal’s office. Move me to the livery. Hell, move me to the butcher shop. But I am
not
staying at the
Gardners
’.” He cocked the pistol.

Bosco’s eyes grew round and he gulped. “Shit-fire, Cole. I’ll take care of it.”

Lowering his weapon, Cole nodded once. “See that you do.”

Bosco stood, sending his chair tumbling backwards.

Cole chuckled. “It’s not loaded.”

“Mebbe, but my drawers is dang-neart loaded. I’ll see you later.”

Cole stared at the ceiling as the door slammed, and hoped Bosco could get them out of this town without causing more trouble. After all, this hadn’t been the only Bosco-induced pickle, just the worst. The two of them went back a long way—shortly after Cole hired on at his first job. Bosco had taken him under his wing, and taught Cole to rope, shoot, and of course, carouse. Few men had bigger hearts than Bosco, even if the poor fellow
was
one ox short of a team.

With nothing to do but count the nails and knotholes in the ceiling, Cole reached into his saddlebag and found his trusty harmonica. It had been his partner through a lot of bad times in the past few years—although he wouldn’t dwell on the dirty deeds of his supposed fiancé and his brother—and kept him company when no person could. He raised it to his lips and softly played “No Home, No Home” as a matter of habit.

Cole let the tune trail off. He stared at the wall, wishing he could get up and ride home. The door opened and he quickly stashed the harmonica.

“I’ll see you in the morning on the stagecoach, then,” chimed a woman’s voice.

Cole pushed himself up and leaned back on his elbows, ignoring the screaming pain shooting down his leg. He saw the doctor standing in the doorway.

“I’m looking forward to it, Iris,” Doc replied.

Iris!
Cole’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He strained to get a look at her, but couldn’t see her, so he settled back down before the doctor had a chance to holler at him. “Leaving tomorrow?” Cole asked Doc in as calm a voice as he could muster, given the circumstances.

“Yes.” The doctor hung his hat on the rack next to the door. “During the good weather, I spend a week down here and three weeks at my office in
Silver
City
.” He picked up a medicine bottle and a strip of bandages, then sat at Cole’s bedside. “Let’s see how you’re doing.”

Gritting his teeth, Cole prepared for the requisite poking and prodding that all doctors seemed inclined to do. He wished the doc would just leave him alone, but he was willing to put up with damned near anything to heal quickly and get the hell out of Oreana.

“Hmmm. The skin around those sutures looks a little red.”

“Doesn’t it always?” After all, Cole thought, it just had a needle and thread poked through it. Besides, the inner thigh area tended to be a little touchy.

The doctor poked some more, then swabbed it with some foul smelling liquid
that
like hell
.
Cole stifled a wince and held his breath a moment until the pain subsided
, which did little good when Doc “examined” the wound again.
.

“You’re lucky, marshal. A little farther up and to the left, and you’d be the best hog-caller in
Idaho
Territory
.” He put away his supplies and lifted his hat from the rack. “I’m going out to see a few patients. I’ll be back at six to help you eat the supper that Miss Gardner’s bringing.”

I’ll bet you will
. Cole silently gnashed his teeth at the thought of the doctor mooning over Daisy.

Doc opened the door. “Oh, and her father, Cyrus Gardner, will be over about then to swear you in.”

“The preacher?”

“No, he’s the mayor. We just use him for a preacher sometimes.”

Cole was grateful to hear the door shut with Doc Mabry on the other side of it. He needed to put some serious thought into escaping from this lunatic town. If Iris came along with her father and sister, Bosco and he would be the honored guests at a necktie party.

* * * * *

What a day. Daisy pushed past the bushes and led
Gal
into the outer cavern and tied
the mare
to a hitching ring that Daisy had installed a few years back. She took the saddlebags and felt her way into the cool, inviting inner section. Only she knew about this secret cave—it had been hers since the
Gardners
moved to Oreana when she was little. She’d
brought
odds and bits here since then, and stored her
most precious
treasures in
a
trunk salvaged from the mercantile’s attic.

She opened the lid and pulled out her lantern and a thick quilt. She lit the lantern, then spread a blanket on the cave floor next to the artesian spring and took the new book out of her saddlebag. Oh, to be a Pinkerton agent like Kate Warne! Or maybe even start her own detective agency. She sat cross-legged and began reading
The Great Bullion Robbery: A Honey Beaulieu Mystery
. Soon swept away into a world of villains and intrigue, she became Honey Beaulieu for the entire hundred pages.

Almost two hours later, after an exciting read, she rubbed her eyes and closed the book. The advertisement on the back cover drew her attention. A fingerprinting kit! Her heart leapt a bit as she remembered a news article of a case in
Arizona
solved by identifying the culprit’s fingerprints. Daisy had the silver dollar that the robber had dropped. If she could get prints from it, maybe she could identify him. And better yet, if she steered the marshal toward the true robber, the townspeople would be impressed with her choice of a lawman!

She ran out of the cave and brushed the dust and wrinkles out of her mother-approved day dress. Her mare was well rested, so made the thirty-minute ride back to town on the sidesaddle in twenty.

As Daisy rode up to the livery, she glanced at her timepiece. Nearly four o’clock! She had to hurry.

Jonas met her at the door and took the reins. “Have a nice ride?” he asked as he helped her down.

“Sure did. I spent a little too much time, though.”

He chuckled as he took off Gal’s bridle and buckled a halter on her. “That you did, Daisy. I’ll brush the mare down. Your dad wants you to tend the store, so you better get over there.” He led Gal to her stall.

Daisy touched both hands to her bonnet to make sure it hadn’t been blown askew and tucked a few stray locks of hair under it. Her hair usually looked a fright so she doubted anyone would notice. Then she hastened down the dusty street to
Gardners
’ Mercantile, dodging the new scythes on display as she hopped onto the porch.

Sarah Howard and her mother, Ruth, stepped out of the store just as Daisy reached for the doorknob.

“Hi, Sarah,” Daisy greeted, suppressing her need to gasp for air due to her brisk trek.

Sarah grinned and clasped her hands to her heart. “Have you seen the new marshal? I hear he’s gorgeous!” She was in the marriage market, too.

“Yes, I took his dinner to him,” Daisy replied more abruptly than intended.

Mrs. Howard smiled then, in that knowing way of hers. Daisy wondered just what this woman did know, and hoped she’d be as wise when she got old. Ruth must be forty if she was a day. “Good afternoon, Daisy.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Howard.” Remembering her manners, she smiled back. “Would you two like to visit and have some lemonade and cookies?”

“Thanks, but I need to get along and start supper for the boarders. Sarah, you can stay and chat with Daisy for half an hour. No more.”

Sarah kissed her mother on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom.” She hooked her arm around Daisy’s. “Tell me absolutely
everything
about him!”

“Who?”

Sarah giggled. “You know who. I bet he’s intolerable handsome!” She sighed and flipped a blonde ringlet away from her face.

Irritated by Sarah’s inquiry, Daisy led Sarah into the store. “Let’s find that lemonade. I’m parched.”

“There you are,” her father said. He stood behind the counter, wiping his hands on a towel. “I got merchandise in today. Your mother and I put out most of the stock, but she had to go start supper and I have a few errands.”

Daisy attempted to look appropriately guilty.

“I want you to stock the medicine bottles, then go help her cook.”

“It won’t take me long,” she assured him, then moved to the end of the counter. “May Sarah and I have some lemonade first?”

“Yes, but you’ll have to make some more.” He took off his apron and hung it on a hook beside the storefront door. “I need to have a talk with that marshal of yours—he’ll need a deputy until he’s up and about. Tell your mother I’ll be at the house at six.”

“He’s not my marshal,” she protested, but her father had gone.