Sweetwater (Birdsong Series) (13 page)

BOOK: Sweetwater (Birdsong Series)
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She nodded.

More than once, they had to stop and reposition Adam on his
horse. He was gravely wounded, and Blake didn’t know if he could save him.
Just a few blocks from his office, they crossed paths with the sheriff. He had
heard the gunshots and had come to have a look see.

“I don’t have time to talk to you, sheriff, but Emily should
be able to fill you in. She is in a state of shock, so go slow with her.
There’s a dead body back by the line shack. The bastard that did all this, got
away. I think I got a piece of him, though. Can you take Emily back to the
hotel and bring Cassie to my office. She may have to say goodbye.”

The sheriff helped carry the unconscious soldier into the
doctor’s office and helped put him on the surgical table. Then, as Dr. Donovan
had asked, he escorted Emily back to the hotel where they would need to wake up
the staff and return a pretty young lady back to see her beloved, perhaps for
the last time.

Dora was chosen to awaken Cassie and get her dressed.
Cassie didn’t cry, but her fingers couldn’t quite manage the buttons on her
frock. Surely, this was a mistake. It was dark outside and Adam had returned
to Fort Hays. He couldn’t be seriously hurt, lying in the doc’s office. Dora
laced up Cassie’s boots and led her down the stairs.

“I’ll go with you, pet. We must hurry. Adam’s hurt very
badly,” Dora whispered, her own heart near to breaking for the sweet young
couple. She prayed that they would be able to see all their plans come to
fruition. She prayed they would enjoy a long and happy life, together.
“Hurry, dear.”

Blake managed to stop the bleeding, but Adam was extremely
weak. He had suffered a lot of internal damage and lost too much blood. The
knife protruding from his chest had been huge and jagged, making a very unclean
wound. Even if he survived the attack, he would more than likely have to fight
an infection that could be just as serious.

Cassie was ushered into the office, where she saw her
beloved lying very still on the table, covered only by a thin blanket. She
walked slowly and carefully up to his side, where upon she took his hand and
held it close to her heart.

She marveled at how remarkably handsome he was, even while
being gravely wounded. His beautiful soft hair, the color of a raven’s wing,
still shown with blue highlights and curled just a bit, down over his noble
forehead. Adam’s nose was still straight and strong with an aristocratic
flare. His cheekbones and jaw were still finely sculpted, as if cut from a
marble bust. She knew his shoulders were broad and well muscled and his legs
were long and well formed. Surely, he was the finest example of masculine
perfection she could ever imagine, thus, he was too strong and too good to die.
It would not happen, she told herself. He had promised they would be
together, forever.

Slowly, his eyes opened as he tried to focus upon Cassie’s
silver blonde beauty. Adam smiled and squeezed her hand.

“You look like an angel, darling . . . my angel with
lavender eyes.” He struggled for breath. “I’m so sorry to leave you. I don’t
want to.”

“Shush, Adam. You’re not leaving me. Doc says you’re going
to be fine.” Tears were rushing down her face and she was helpless to stop
them.

“Did I save Emily?”

Cassie nodded. “You’re a hero, darling. Please try to hold
on . . . for me?”

He smiled, knowing he’d done his job well.

“You’re the love of my life, Cassie,” he whispered. “Kiss
me,” he said, barely audible, now. “I want to die with the taste of your lips
on mine.”

Cassie leaned over and put all the love she had into that
last and final kiss. She knew the moment his soul left his body, on its long
journey home. She felt her heart shatter into a million irreparable pieces.
He had shared his last breath with her, and she was honored beyond all belief.

The young woman ran her fingers through his lush dark hair,
one final time, and then turned away, not daring to look back; she ran from the
doctor’s office and headed for the hotel. She needed to be alone.

All the women were brokenhearted for Cassie and Adam, but it
was Emily who felt responsible for his death. It had been her stepfather that
took his life, while he attempted to rescue her. No one knew quite what to
say to her, so they all remained silent and dealt with their own grief.
Morning would arrive in a couple of hours and that would give them time to come
to terms with the tragedy of this night.

Patty was the first to finally speak. “I think we need to
follow Cassie’s lead and all retire to our beds. Life will go on whether we
wish it or not. There will be much to do, tomorrow.” Then she added, “Emily,
dear, we’re so relieved you’ve come home . . . relatively unharmed.” She
reached up and gently brushed her fingers over Emily’s bruised and torn cheek.

“You need to let Blake see to your face, darling, and
please, don’t blame yourself for any of this. Adam was doing his job and Lucas
is a mad man. We love you and we want you to stay safe.” She kissed Emily on
the other cheek before ascending the stairs. “Good night, all,” she called
down.

Dora nodded. “You sleep in tomorrow, Emily. When you’re
ready for your breakfast, just ring the bell. I’ll take care of you and
Cassie, myself.” She kissed Emily on her undamaged cheek and slowly climbed
the stairs, appearing much older than she had only that very morning.

Emily’s eyes took in her surroundings. The deserted lobby
looked exactly the same, with its flowers overflowing the imported vases and
the Persian rugs scattered across the highly polished floors. The clock on the
stairs was quietly ticking, keeping its usual hypnotic rhythm. The town, at
last, was sleeping peacefully, and the stars twinkled in the black sky
overhead. Yet, all of their lives had been turned upside down and forever
altered this evening.

Through it all, she discovered memories, long ago abandoned.
Dusty had not been the cruel young man she thought him to be. How could she
have forgotten all the kindnesses he had shown her when she was a child? True,
she was only four or five years old, but he hadn’t been that much older
himself, and he’d taken so much abuse in her stead. Over the years, he too,
had been a prisoner of sorts, held captive by the man they most despised. Now,
he was gone. In the end, he’d given his all for her. He died for her, as did
Adam. How was she going to be able to live with the guilt?

Emily lay face down on the settee, burying her sobs in the
elegantly appointed pillows. She cried for the terrible loss of Cassie and
Adam’s family. She cried for the years wasted, separated from her brother.
They could have, perhaps, been a real family, and now it was too late.

“Emmie,” Blake’s deep voice whispered in her ear, cutting
through her pain. “Darling, come upstairs. It’s time to go to bed.” He held
out his hand and helped her sit up. He kissed her lips and the tip of her red
and swollen nose.

“You must rest now, and so must I. There’s plenty of time
for all of this, later. I won’t allow you to get sick, angel.”

Emily gazed up into his tired but compassionate face. He
was the love of her life. She knew it at that moment. Maybe she had always
known it, but was too stubborn to admit it. She wanted to spend the rest of
her life with him and she would soon tell him so . . . but not yet. Too much
had happened, and there was still so much left to do. She nodded and
obediently followed the good doctor up the stairs.

Blake held both of her hands in his, while he kissed her
waiting lips, knowing it would be almost impossible to leave her alone,
tonight, but it couldn’t be helped. Somewhere, Lucas was hiding out and
scheming against Emily. His bullet had not stopped the evil man. Now, he was
like a wounded animal, more dangerous than before.

“You get undressed and crawl into bed, while I fix you
something to help you sleep. You need to relax. I’ll sit by your side until
you fall asleep.”

Emily smiled gratefully for his care and concern, but it was
his arms around her, that she mostly needed. She wanted him to make love to
her, but the good doctor had other things on his mind and she must let him go.

In only a few minutes, Emily had succumbed to an exhausted
sleep. Hopefully, she would not dream of the horrors she had witnessed that
evening. Blake took one last look at the graceful form covered by the
patchwork quilt, and his heart swelled with love for her.

“Sleep tight, my love,” he murmured low, so as not to wake
her. Then, he quietly left her room and proceeded back down the stairs, where
he encountered Whiskey, sitting in a straight-backed chair with his shotgun
resting across his lap.

“Whiskey? You standing guard?”

“Damn right, I am,” he growled. “Ain’t nobody gettin’ by
me, tonight.”

Blake could see the old man’s red-rimmed eyes staring
straight at the doors, his resolve clearly shown in his clenched jaws and the
tight grip he held on the gun.

“It’s a cryin’ shame what happened today. Emily could have
been killed. If it weren’t for you and Corporal Breyer . . .” He paused while
he cleared his throat and shook away the threatening tears. “He was a fine
young man and it don’t seem fair that an old coot like me is still around while
he lies up yonder . . . waitin’ to be buried.” He sniffed, unable to hide his
emotions.

Blake strode over to the big man and put his hand on his
shoulder. “It was his job, Whiskey, and he did it proudly. Before he died, he
asked if Emily was safe. We need to remember his bravery and his selflessness.
He knew what he was risking and he didn’t hesitate for a single moment.”

Whiskey was inconsolable as he covered his face with his
hand. “Poor Cassie. It just weren’t fair.”

“As heroic as Adam was, he did nothing more than what you
would have done in his place,” Blake continued. “Our love for these women
knows no bounds, and we’d gladly give up our lives in protection of each and
every one of them. Look at you, sitting here, guarding the doors. It’s what
we must do until that outlaw is stopped.”

Drying his cheeks with his sleeve, the old man nodded.
“You’re right, Doc. You can count on me. I’ll be fine, now. Just do me a
favor—watch your back.”

“Gladly. After this is all over, I’m going to marry Emmie
and take her away from here. I’m going to put her on a farm. That is, if
she’ll have me.” He smiled, sheepishly.

One side of Whiskey’s mouth turned up, in a lopsided grin,
“She’ll have you, son. I can tell she’s head over heels for you.”

Blake chuckled, and slapped the man on his back. “See you
in a few hours. I got some things to tend to.”

The young doctor entered his empty office, and sighed long
and loud. The corporal’s body had been removed to the undertaker’s and was
being readied for his long trip back home. Adam’s brother would be arriving in
two days, on the morning train. Blake fell into his overstuffed chair, and
grasping his hair in both fists, he leaned forward and cried. He cried like a
child. He cried for all the hurt and pain. He cried for the injustice of it
all. He cried for all the lost hopes and dreams of the future. But most of
all, he cried for the abrupt loss of a chance at love.

CHAPTER NINE

There was a distinct chill in the air that portended the
arrival of snow from off the western plains. Cassie remained in her room,
asking for privacy. She had much to consider and many memories to revisit.

Emily decided to keep to herself, as well. She was
emotionally fragile and bereft. She thought it would be best to stay in her
room and try to regain her composure before facing her friends and hotel
guests. Most of all, she dreaded her first meeting with dear, sweet Cassie.
What could she say to lessen her friend’s grief? Emily simply wasn’t strong
enough to face the day.

After lunch, Emily received a small knock on her door. “Em?
It’s me, Patty. I must speak with you.”

Sighing, Emily reluctantly told her friend to come in. She
sat up in bed, eager to listen to Patty and send her on her way, again. There
was nothing the woman could say to make any difference in the way she felt.

“Emily, I’m sorry to disturb you, but this is fairly
important. Jasper Jenkins is downstairs.”

Emily’s eyes widened in surprise. “The undertaker?”

Patty nodded. “He has questions about your brother, dear.
He needs to know what you would like him to do.” She waited for an answer.
“I’m sorry, but it is crucial that he knows your wishes.”

“Dusty? . . . I forgot.” Looking up at Patty with a look of
incredible despair, Emily groaned.
“How
could I have forgotten my own brother? Oh, God. I’m awful!”

Patty knew Emily was nearing hysterics. She had to say
something comforting . . . and quickly. “Darling, no, no. This is the way
things are always done in these kinds of incidents. You must first deal with
the shock, and then you pull yourself together and you take care of the
business at hand. You’re definitely
not
awful. What happened to you was awful.” Patty watched Emily closely, trying
to read her reaction. “Now, I’ll help you get dressed and we’ll go downstairs
together, and tell nice Mr. Jenkins what you wish to have done.”

Emily looked like a small, lost child sitting on her bed.
Patty would have to be very gentle with her. She chose a soft brown dress,
with little pearl buttons. It was pretty but subdued, perfectly appropriate
for the day. It was too soon for black, Patty decided.

She brushed Emily’s black hair until it glistened, and then
braided it in one long braid coiled around her head, and fastened it with a
pearl clip. On the way out the door, Patty pinched off a blossom from the last
bouquet of the season, and pressed it into her friend’s hand.

“Smell its sweet fragrance, Emily, whenever you need
courage,” she whispered.

The sweet blossom helped, as Emily spoke with the
undertaker. They both agreed that Dusty needed to be laid to rest as soon as possible.
She provided a new suit of clothes and paid for the best casket he had on
hand.

“I want Dusty to be buried in the town cemetery. He saved
my life. He was a hero, Mr. Jenkins.” Her throat ached from the constriction
of holding back her sobs. Only once or twice did she lose control and allow a
tear to escape.

Mr. Jenkins nodded. He was a professional and he treated
all his customers with respect and tenderness. He knew how hard it was for
this beautiful young lady to say goodbye to her one and only brother, no matter
what the circumstances.

“Can we do this today?” she asked.

“I don’t see why not, Miss. He looks pretty good. If it
makes you feel better, I think you should know that he died instantly, feeling
no pain. He was lucky, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jenkins. You’ll come and get me when it’s
time?”

“Yes, ma’am, I will.”

With that decided, Emily was left alone to return to her
room, if she chose. Instead, she went to the kitchen. She needed to see Dora
and Whiskey. She needed her family of friends about her. As she drew close,
the aroma of fresh baked bread assailed her nostrils. It was better than cake,
she thought.

Upon entering the warm and cheery room, she discovered Dora
pouring a cup of coffee for a freshly bathed doctor.

“Blake! I didn’t expect to see you here, but I’m glad you
are.”

“So you finally decided to come downstairs, eh?” he smiled,
flashing his warm brown eyes her way.

“Mr. Jenkins, the undertaker, needed to speak with me about
my brother. Oh, Blake. I completely forgot I had to make arrangements today.
I was so overcome with feeling sorry for myself, I’d forgotten what was really
important.” Her bottom lip started to tremble.

Blake rushed to her side and put his strong arms around her,
pulling her close to his chest. “Now don’t start beating yourself up for being
human. You’ve suffered a great deal and there’s enough guilt in this town for
every one of us to take a share. I love you, Emily Falkenrath, and it is said
I have excellent taste.”

She smiled. “You are too good for me, you know.”

“Ha! I’ll remind you of that statement when we’ve been
together for a good long time and see if you still believe it. Now, would you
do me the honor and sit with me for a spell?”

“Surely, Doc.”

Dora spoke up, “Cup of coffee or tea, sweetie?”

“Milk, I think. My stomach is not too reliable, today.”

“Comin’ up,” Dora said. “By the by, that grinding noise you
hear is Whiskey snorin’ to beat the band. He stayed up all night guardin’ the
doors, but he’s not a young man anymore. Couldn’t make it through breakfast
before he was noddin’ off. Bless his old bald head,” she said lovingly.

All to soon, everyone had to get back to work and Emily
waited to be summoned by Mr. Jenkins.

When the time came, she didn’t want to bother her friends,
and Blake was attending to a broken wrist, so as twilight approached on that
blustery evening, she stood alone at her brother’s graveside to say her final
goodbyes. Mr. Jenkins had chosen the spot for Dusty’s grave, very well, she
thought. It was on higher ground and under the shade of a large tree, now
resplendent in its scarlet fall foliage. Her heart was breaking for all the
wasted years and all the opportunities squandered. She would never again,
forget the sacrifices her older brother had made for her.

“Dusty, I’m sorry it ended like this. I wish we had many
years to get reacquainted. Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for being
my brother. I love you.”

A strong hand squeezed hers, and she turned to see Blake,
tears filling his eyes and a gentle smile on his lips. “That was well said, my
love. Let’s go back, now.”

She nodded, turned around, and was startled to see all of
her friends, even Cassie, gathered at the bottom of the hill. They had come
for her sake, and they had allowed her the privacy she needed to say goodbye.
It was gratifying to see them all, her family—and they were her family,
in the truest sense of the word. Her face lit up, and for the first time in
more than twenty-four hours, she smiled, knowing that things would get better.

“Thank you, all,” she said, as she took Blake’s arm and
allowed him to escort her back to the hotel, followed closely by the small
entourage, walking two by two.

Emily decided she was going to be all right. She was
strong-willed and had a purpose to her life. It was important that she lend
her support to Cassie, just now. Dora and Patty needed her help with the hotel
and Blake needed her for other things, just as she needed him. Dusty was at
peace—probably for the very first time in his short life—and Lucas
was still out there, waiting for an opportunity to hurt her. She had to remain
busy and stay alert.

* * *

Everyone heard the lonesome train whistle blow at the
one-mile trestle. They all sat motionless, watching to see what Cassie was going
to do. Her head jerked up at the sound, and her breath escaped her small body.
It was time. Slowly she rose, and brushed the wrinkles from her skirt. She
patted her curls, making certain she looked presentable. Adam’s brother would
be on that train to take him home, and she wanted his approval. With her
little black bonnet and shawl in place, she was ready. Forcing her shoulders
back, she held her head high, and with great determination, she walked through
the front doors, followed closely by Dora, Emily, and Patty.

Once again the whistle blew, announcing the train’s arrival.
Mr. Jenkins had his finest, black draped wagon waiting at the depot. Riding
in from the opposite end of the street, was a column of finely dressed soldiers
from Fort Hays—friends and officers of Corporal Adam Breyer.

The little group from the hotel slowed their pace, as they
drew nearer. Cassie was starting to falter, her courage began to wane, that
is, until she saw the tall, black-haired man, with the warmest eyes, step down
from the train. He looked about the crowd, and when spying her, his face lit
up and he smiled Adam’s smile. Cassie’s heart twisted in her chest, as she
almost collapsed in Blake’s waiting arms.

The man ran up to her, immediately. “Oh, my dear. I’m
terribly sorry. I know I must be a shock to you. We do share a resemblance.
You’re Miss Cassie Miller, yes?”

Cassie nodded. “You’re Adam’s brother?”

He reached for her delicate gloved hand and held her
fingertips to his lips. “Yes. I’m Benjamin Jason Breyer. I know much about
you, Cassie, and you’re every bit as beautiful as he said you were. Adam wrote
more than a few letters describing your many virtues. You made him extremely
happy, and for that I am eternally grateful.”

Holding out his hand, Blake introduced himself. “I’m Dr.
Blake Donovan. I wired you. Do you have any questions, sir?”

“Hello, doctor. I do have some questions, but I dare not
ask them in front of the women. May I take you aside?”

“Certainly.”

The two men walked amiably together, until out of hearing
range. There, they conversed and Blake described the crime scene the best he
could. “What he did was extremely brave and he did it to save the woman I
love. I can never repay that debt.” Blake’s face was deeply etched with the
pain and exhaustion of the last few days. His eyes reflected his pain, but
also his gratitude.

“Dr. Donovan, Adam was meant to do just what he did. From
the time he was a young boy, he came to the rescue of small animals, young
children, and even lovely damsels in distress. Once, when he was seven, he
tried to rescue an older lady of thirteen,” he smiled at the memory. “Of
course, he failed, losing a tooth in the process, but he was proud of his
efforts. He’s always been a hero. I guess he was just born that way.” He
smiled wistfully, remembering his little brother fighting off a large dog to
protect a small kitten or an injured bird.

Shaking his head, trying to clear his mind, he asked, “How
is Miss Miller holding up? Adam was planning on asking her to marry him. Did
you know that?”

Blake nodded. “Yes, I knew. That very night, he proposed
marriage. Cassie was thrilled. She is very much in love with your brother . .
. still. She’s taken it hard, but she’ll come around eventually. These women
are strong and they’ll survive.”

Tears formed in Mr. Breyer’s eyes. “I so regret meeting her
under these circumstances. Adam deserved to be happy and I know she would have
made him so. Now . . . I think it is time I get back to the others. Thank you
for telling me what happened, Dr. Donovan.”

The two men walked back to the train, where the military
column was slowly removing Adam’s casket from the wagon, with much pomp and
ceremony. Several of the men were openly weeping. It was quite obvious that
these were personal friends of the corporal.

His brother walked over to the draped casket and laid his
hands upon the lid. He bent his head close and spoke words for his brother’s
ears, only. Then standing, slowly, he followed the body onto the train.

A few minutes later, he once again stepped down from the
car, after having seen to the securing of the casket, and walked directly over
to Cassie. He needed to tell her something.

“Benjamin,” Cassie said softly. “I need to return this to
you. Adam told me that all the men in your family wear a ring, such as this.”
She reached up and untied a delicate pink ribbon from around her neck. As she
pulled it up through her blouse, he saw the glint of gold, suspended from it.
It was their family signet ring—Adam’s ring.

Cassie held it out to him, noticing it was the exact match
for the one that he wore on his little finger.

A lump formed in the man’s throat, as tears cascaded
unashamedly, down his face. When he could speak, he gently touched the ring,
as if a part of Adam was still a part of it, then he looked through sorrowful
eyes at the beautiful young woman, so bravely standing before him.

He reached out and took Cassie’s hand and curled her fingers
around the ring in a tight clasp. “Adam gave his ring to you, Cassie. He
wanted you to have it, and so much more. I would consider it an honor if you
would keep it and cherish it. It belongs to you, my dear.”

The two people fell into a tearful embrace, holding onto one
another for strength and comfort. For several minutes they said nothing, but
took solace in the presence of the other.

The train blew its whistle. It was time to depart.
Everyone said his last goodbye and Mr. Benjamin Justin Breyer stepped aboard
the train for the final time, to escort his brother home. With a powerful jolt
and a loud burst of steam, the train pulled slowly away from the station. The
soldiers mounted their horses and saluted their fallen comrade. The
townspeople that had gathered to see the young man off, slowly dispersed. Only
the Birdsong staff remained in the street. They watched until the train
disappeared from view.

Then, as they wandered back to the hotel, Cassie stopped and
gasped. “I didn’t tell Mr. Breyer how much I loved Adam.”

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