Texas Twilight (23 page)

“So, everyone at the ranch now knows?”

He nodded.

“Did Brandon go all the way—”

“That you’re going to have to hear from him.
But, if I were you, I’d give him some time to cool off. I’d wait
until tomorrow at least.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

John had a bad feeling. He hadn’t exaggerated
when he told Charity he’d never seen his friend so angry. Over the
years Brandon and his sister had had their ups and downs, with
plenty of antics and theatrics from Charity, to be sure. But,
Brandon was a man, and one that could just be at the end of his
rope. “Well, I don’t think you have a choice.”

She nodded then gave him a wobbly smile.
“You’re right. I don’t have a choice. But, tomorrow I’ll explain,
make him see why I had to come. He’ll understand. He’ll forgive me.
That’s just his nature.”

She leaned over and kissed John’s good cheek,
making his heart lurch. Damn, he

hoped it was true. It would be a sad day
indeed without Brandon around. The sheriff was already part of the
McCutcheon clan, and it was too strange a thought to even think of
anything different.

Charity went over to her pitcher and poured
some water into the basin, splashing her face. “Tomorrow is a new
day,” she said.

He nodded sympathetically. That it was. A new
day for him, too. For him and Emmeline.

S
hots woke Lily
in the middle of the night. Sitting up, she brushed the hair from
her eyes with shaking hands. Blinking to adjust to the darkness,
she looked across the hallway to her Tante’s room. It was difficult
to see, but the tiny bit of moonlight coming in through her aunt’s
window showed that she still slept soundly.

Flipping her covers back, Lily rose and
pulled on her heavy wrapper and hurried out of the bedroom. The
white kitty, which had been sleeping beside her, hopped down and
followed behind. In the upstairs sitting area she lit one candle
and looked around to see that everything was as it should be. Loud
voices came from the alley, and a door banged. She hurried down the
stairs, careful of the flame, and lit the lantern in the kitchen.
First she tried the front door to make certain it was locked. Then
at the back, when she pulled the curtain aside to peek out, she saw
several men gathered around as two more carried a person toward
John’s office. Tucker was out there too, and when he saw her
looking out, he hurried to her door.

“What happened?” she asked, letting him in
and closing the door. “I heard gun shots.”

“Don’t know exactly yet, but someone at the
hotel took a bullet.”

Lily gasped. “It wasn’t Charity, was it?”

“No.”

“Or Emmeline?”

Again Tucker shook his head. “No. A man. They
carried him into Doc’s office.”

“Is it bad? Do they have the gunman?”

Again Tucker shook his head, causing his
tousled brown hair to fall into his eyes. Apparently quite
comfortable with her now, he used his stump to brush it away.

“What?” she asked. “There is more you are not
telling me.” Her imagination took flight, cooking up all sorts of
horrible things. “What is it?”

“Well, a women seems to have been roughed up
some, too. She’s already at the doc’s office. Looks like she’ll
die.”

“Was she from the saloon?” Lily felt guilty
for having voiced such an indelicate question, but saloon girls
lived a dangerous life.

“No. She was a guest in the hotel. Someone
broke in, then stabbed her when she woke up and screamed. That’s
when the other man came to help her and got shot. She was in the
same room John used to have.” He gave her a strange look and
started for the door. “I better go now and see if they need my
help. Keep your doors locked. Sheriff Dane and the deputy are out
doing a search. You’ll probably see ‘em walking around, so don’t be
scared. “

Lily stifled a shiver. The kitten wound
around her legs until she picked her up. “Thank you for filling me
in.”

“John asked me to check on you and also
Charity and Emmeline at the hotel.”

After letting him out and securing the lock,
Lily made the rounds again, checking the windows even though she
was confident they were bolted.

There were footsteps out front and then a
knocking on the front door. She hurried over and pushed the curtain
aside just enough to see the sheriff. She unlatched the door and
opened it a few inches.

“Sheriff?”

“Good evening, Miss Anthony,” he said. “I’m
sure you’ve heard the commotion going on the last few minutes. I
was wondering if I could come in and have a quick look around.”
There were several men waiting by their horses.

“Now, Sheriff?” Lily glanced over to a small
clock on the fabric shelf and saw that it was fifteen minutes until
three. “It’s late and my aunt is sleeping.”

“I understand, but we’re conducting a search.
I must insist.”

Reluctantly, she opened the door and let him
in. He walked around the shop, glancing in corners. He pulled back
the drape to the dressing room and when he found it empty, let it
swing back into place. He nodded as if satisfied.

When he placed a foot on the first step
leading to the bedrooms, Lily came forward. “Please, Sheriff. My
aunt has not been well. If she wakes up and sees you, she will be
frightened to death. I just came from up there and assure you there
is not anyone there who should not be.”

His shoulders relaxed and he took his hat off
and ran his hand over his face, then exhaled. “Fine, then. I want
you to let me know if you see anything suspicious.”

John pulled the sheet up over the woman’s
face then stood, looking at her. When they’d brought her in, she’d
been clinging to life by a thread, and a frail, worn one at that.
He and Bixby had tried everything to stop the bleeding from the
stab wound, but it was like trying to dam the Mississippi.

With nothing else to do for her, he went over
to the examination table and looked at the chest wound of the other
patient Bixby was preparing to work on. Tucker was holding the
ether cloth over the man’s nose and mouth.

“Get me the tweezers,” Dr. Bixby said.
“Cotton and the bottle of alcohol.” John did as he asked, and the
older doctor poured the clear liquid into the bleeding wound then
swabbed it with the cotton. He took the tweezers and forceps and
explored around inside the man’s chest until he stopped, then felt
again.

Moving his hand slowly, he worked the
instrument until he had the bullet and pulled it out. A fresh wave
of blood bubbled up from the small hole. “Pour some more whisky in
there. Then cover it with cotton and bandage it.”

“Everyone okay over at the hotel?” John asked
Tucker, as he did as Bixby had asked him to do.

“Scared but alive.”

“And Lily?”

“She was awake and peeking out her
window.”

Just then Brandon came into the examination
room, pulled a chair from under the desk and turned it around. He
straddled it, then watched John mop up the blood from the man’s
body. Bixby left the room.

“You look like hell,” John said, meaning it.
“You been drinking yourself to death?”

Brandon shook his head and motioned to the
man on the table. “He going to make it?”

“Too soon to tell.”

“Was he able to say anything before he went
under?”

“Don’t think so. But, then, I was working on
the woman.”

Brandon grunted. His bloodshot eyes looked
tired and his face strained. John knew this man as well as he knew
any of his brothers. He could see he was hurting.

“I spoke with Charity tonight.” John tried to
see where his comment might take him.

The nickel Brandon was twirling in his
fingers stilled.

“She’s extremely upset about the whole
mess.”

“That’s a might hard to believe. Charity
always has things under control. Don’t you know that by now, John
Jake?”

John, finished with the patient, went to the
basin and washed up. He let the comment go while he dried his hands
and went to the door. “Come on. I’ll put on a pot of coffee. I
don’t think we’re going to be getting any sleep tonight. Got some
things I want to talk to you about anyway.”

“If one of those things is Charity, don’t
waste your breath.” He got up and followed his friend into the
kitchen, plopping down into the chair. Tucker remained in the
examination room with the injured man, and Bixby had retired to his
room.

“Just so you know, part of this mess with
Charity running off lies at my door. I should have returned her
letters promptly. She’d written several in my last months at school
and then here, and I didn’t get back to her. She may not show it
all the time, Brandon, but she’s sensitive. She was worried about
me.”

Brandon waved him off, obviously not ready to
let his anger go. “That’s a croc—”

He stopped abruptly. “Said I wasn’t going to
talk about her.” Several moments passed. “How you like Rio
Wells?”

John stirred up the coals in the woodstove
and put the coffeepot filled with water on to boil. He then scooped
a half cup of grounds from a can and carefully put them in the
coffee basket, placing that into the pot. “It’s not Y Knot, if
that’s what you want to know,” he said with a chuckle, then looked
over his shoulder at his friend. “But, it’s not that bad, either.
I’m getting to know the people and that helps. Sure is hot, though.
That’s hard to like.”

Brandon leaned back in his chair, relaxing.
“Understandable. What the hell is that smell?”

John came and sat while they waited for the
coffee to perk. “Sulfur spring just over on the next block. It’s
not always so bad, but sometimes it stinks to high heaven.” He
leaned forward toward Brandon and lowered his voice. “There is
something I need to discuss with you. Actually, your showing up
today was like an answer to a prayer.”

H
e now had
Brandon’s attention. “Bixby told me about the fiancée.” Brandon’s
brows knitted together in thought. “What’s her name?”

“Emmeline Jordan.”

“I’m flabbergasted. Nobody from the ranch
said anything about her.”

“That’s because I haven’t broken the news
yet. Only Charity and my relatives here know. I was going to tell
them in my next letter.

Brandon grunted. “The ones you never
write?”

John shrugged noncommittally. “Yeah, but,
that’s not what I’m talking about now. A bounty hunter showed up in
town a few days ago looking for a stolen jewel and the person who
took it. Just so happens that I have that said item locked up in my
safe.”

His friend’s eyes narrowed. “Does he
know?”

“No. I’m not sure he’s not after it himself,
to steal. Or else, perhaps he’s trying to fix a botched job.”

“How did you come by it in the first place?”
Brandon asked, life coming back into his eyes with the subject at
hand. He was a lawman through and through.

“Lily Anthony found it in her aunt’s
possessions after coming into town on the same stage I did. It was
soon after the Comanchero attack. She’s certain it doesn’t belong
to her aunt because they were down to their last penny and her aunt
would have said something about it if she’d had something of that
value. If I say anything about having it, one of us will be
suspect, or maybe all of us will. I don’t know. Maybe you can do
some digging without it looking suspicious.”

Tucker came out of the room.

“He still out?”

“Yeah.” Wearily, the boy headed for the
stairs.

“Thanks, Tuck, you’re a real help.”

“First thing in the morning,” the boy
mumbled, “I’ll let the undertaker know he has a body to pick up.”
He slowly ascended to the upper floor, leaving John and Brandon
alone.

“Go on,” Brandon said.

“
The
man’s name is Lector Boone. Boone said it was a robbery in Boston
and he was working for the owner on getting it back. I have no way
of checking out his story, or any of the information, because the
telegraph lines have been down since I’ve arrived. I’ve been
wondering about
that
too.”

“Well, you wouldn’t want to send a message
from here anyway. I’ll go back to San Antonio tomorrow and send
some wires and do some checking around. See what I can dig up.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. The way I see it, the sooner the
better.”

John didn’t like butting into his friend’s
business any better than he liked anyone butting into his. But if
Brandon up and took off before Charity had a chance to speak with
him and set things straight, she was going to be an emotional mess.
John had enough experience with his sisters-in-law, and Charity
herself, to understand a bit about how the female psyche worked. “I
agree—”

“But?”

Brandon was looking straight at him with a
“keep out of it” look in his eyes. His jaw was set in a determined
expression John knew all too well.

“Just take a moment and speak with my sister
before you do. She really wants to explain some things to you. Have
a heart.”

“Like she did?”

John held up his hands. “I understand.”

“No. Don’t think you do.” Brandon opened the
hand he had fisted on the table and worked his fingers. “What went
through my head when I couldn’t find a trace of Charity in Denver?
Because a certain ticket operator was out with the pox, it took me
days to learn she’d purchased a ticket to Rio Wells. Once I figured
out she was on her way down here, my fear turned into something
completely different. Can’t stop my feelings, John Jake. They’re
just there.”

“I guess she didn’t think anyone would be
checking up on her so soon.”

“Well, she guessed wrong, didn’t she?”

John figured this was a stone wall he wasn’t
going to get over tonight. The pot was now perking rapidly and the
smell of coffee permeated the air. John got up and sliced some
day-old bread, then retrieved the crock of butter and the small jar
of peach preserves. He set it all on the table and grabbed two
cups. After filling both cups, he set the coffeepot back on the
stove.