A Kiss for Cade (21 page)

Chapter Twenty-Five

S
tand back, Herschel, you cain’t come in here!”

Herschel Mallard tried to push past Sawyer, but the old man blocked his way. Zoe, kneeling next to Bonnie, watched Cade walk over and break up the scuffle. “What do you need, Herschel?”

“One of my bulls is missing.”

Cade grinned. “Maybe he’s out socializing with the women.”

“Ain’t no time to be funny, Kolby. That bull cost me a pretty penny. Where’s Pop?”

Sawyer butted in. “Pop’s laid up with a broken leg.”

“Who’s takin’ care of sheriffin’?” Herschel peered between the two men standing in the doorway. “What’s going on here?”

Bruce raised his head, moaning. “Go away, Herschel. We all got the sickness.”

Herschel abruptly stepped back. “The what!”

“The fever! And shut the door! That blasted light’s blinding me.”

Cade glanced at Zoe. “Can you handle things here while I help Herschel find his bull?”

She nodded as she patted Bonnie’s brow with a cool cloth.

Cade rode with Herschel to the Mallard farm west of town, the home there a one-room shanty perched on a rocky hillside.

Riding the fencerow, Cade located the trouble toward the back end of the pasture.

Herschel swore a blue streak as he viewed the cut wire. “Rustlers.”

“Most likely. Anyone else had trouble lately?”

“Clyde Abbott’s brother, Saul, lost some steers a few weeks back. Pop never found ’em.”

Cade stood up, dusting off his knees. “I’ll take a look around, but I imagine they’re long gone.”

“Don’t be bringing me back no bulls wearing bonnets.”

Grinning, Cade took the reference to his childhood prank in stride. “You got my word on that, Herschel.”

Nodding, the farmer said, “Good enough.”

Toward dark, Cade rode to Saul Abbott’s farm and knocked on the front door. The smell of meat frying drifted from the open window. It had been hours since breakfast. A young girl a few years older than Holly opened the door. The child was barefoot, her dress faded and threadbare.

“Are your folks home?”

The girl nodded. “They’re layin’ down, feelin’ poorly.”

A man appeared in the background, hitching his suspenders over his shoulders. A heavy growth of reddish beard covered his face. Squinting, he held up a hand to shade his eyes. “Is that you, Kolby? Heard you was back.”

“Hello, Saul. Didn’t recognize you for a second. Are you sick?”

“Me and the missus got somethin’ bad. I cain’t even look at the light without my head feeling like it’s gonna explode.”

“There’s been an outbreak of the fever.”

He took a step back. “The fever? Like John and Addy?”

“Don’t know. Herschel said you had some cattle missing.”

“Did you find them?”

“No. In fact, one of Herschel’s bulls is gone.”

“Those no-goods. Sure would like to get my hands on who’s doing it.”

The little girl pulled on her daddy’s sleeve. “I’m cookin’ side meat, Pa. Can we invite Mr. Kolby to stay?”

“’Fraid he can have it all, sis. Your momma and I don’t feel much like eatin’.”

“How many are in your family, Saul?” Saul was around Cade’s age, so he could have a whole houseful of kids by now.

“Got three young’uns—two boys and Sis, here. Then me and the missus, ’course.”

“Are the kids sick?”

“Not so far.” Saul sank into the nearest chair and held his head.

“I think you and Mrs. Abbott should come with me. We have several cases at the jail.”

“I’d argue if I had the strength, but I think maybe you’re right. The missus is real bad. No need of the younger ones gettin’ this.” Turning to his daughter, he said, “Sis, you go to the barn and get your brothers. You’ll have to see after things until me and your ma get back.”

Around bedtime, Cade pulled the Abbotts’ wagon to a halt in front of the jail. Saul and his wife lay in the back. Cade helped Mrs. Abbott out as Zoe stepped outside.

“Oh, dear. More?”

Cade nodded. “Two more.”

Zoe managed to get Belle Abbott up the steps and into the jail. “I was getting worried. The children had to take supper with Gracie again since you weren’t back.”

“Sorry. I was detained.”

“I told them you’d eat with us tonight.”

He brushed past her.

Sawyer spat. “Here we go again. Same old tune. ‘I want the kids.’ ‘You can’t have ’em.’”

“Be reasonable, Red. I’ve got two more sick people. Stop harping and help me get Belle and Saul settled.”

“Harping!”

“Harping,” Sawyer confirmed.

With a sigh, Zoe returned to the wagon for Saul.

“You too, Saul?” She made room for the two newest patients. Pallets were scooted over, the men’s in the cell, the women’s in the office. The small building was filled to capacity.

Bruce lifted his head off the pillow. “This is getting out of hand. We’re going to have to quarantine the town.”

“I think you’re right.” Zoe wrung out a sponge. “We need to do something.” She turned to Cade. “Frank Lovell rode to Chesterfield today for more quinine. Even paid for it.”

“Frank Lovell? The town skinflint turned humanitarian? Hard to believe,” Cade said. “Sawyer, we’re going to need a quarantine notice.”

Sawyer nodded. “You’ll have to write out the sign. Never learned my letterin’.”

Zoe pulled two wanted posters out of Pop’s desk drawer. On their backs, in bold letters, she wrote, “Quarantined. Stay Out.”

By the time the moon came up, the town of Winterborn was closed to all outsiders.

Chapter Twenty-Six

I
wonder why none of the children have gotten sick,” Zoe said. That evening she and Cade sat outside the jail, leaning against the building’s wall. She closed her eyes. “So far, only adults have been affected. Clyde Abbott’s son is the youngest, and he’s twenty-seven.”

“Maybe it isn’t the fever. Maybe it’s something else.”

“Everyone says it’s the fever. We’ll have to wait until Doc gets back.”

He shrugged. “You should go home. There’s plenty of help here. Glori-Lee is furnishing the meals. Lilith brought over her soap this morning and checks in every few hours.” His gaze went to the open doorway. “And Sawyer is a pain in the neck.”

“He’s trying to be helpful.”

Cade smiled. “Yeah, I guess so. When I was a kid I thought he was strange. But look at him. He’s out there keeping everyone away.”

His eyes grew distant, and she wondered if he was considering his life on the trail. Having few friends to come to his aid, and even fewer to care about him—what must that feel like? During her own troubles, she had always had Addy and Gracie. And the townspeople. They were beside her through thick and thin. “Do you ever miss Winterborn?” she asked.

“At times.”

“But not enough to come back for good.”

He tasted his coffee, and Zoe thought he was ignoring her remark. But he wasn’t.

“I also used to hate the smell of Lilith’s fancy soap,” he said, “but it’s not so bad anymore.”

She was only half listening. Her back was sore from bending over. Other than the Abbots, no new cases had come to light during the night. The patients were stable. Bonnie was better. Zoe wanted to think the worst was over, but her life was in a shambles. Because of the quarantine, no one from the outside could get in to shop at the store. The town trade alone wouldn’t pay her bills. The bank wouldn’t loan her additional money, and she couldn’t take in one more basket of washing and ironing and still help out at the jail.

She opened her eyes, studying the man beside her. Did Cade sense her frustration? He sat calmly drinking coffee, making mundane conversation.

Laying her hand on his arm, she said, “Thank you for helping out. I don’t know how I’d have managed without you. I know you didn’t expect to stay in town this long.”

“I can’t go anywhere until I find a place for the kids.”

Of course. He certainly wasn’t staying around for her sake. “You have a place. You just won’t recognize it.”

“You’re not raising the kids alone.”

She stood up, her hands on her hips. “If I were a man, I’d knock some sense into you!”

“If I were a woman, I’d behave like one.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

G
et out of my way!” Laticia Wiseman’s whip snapped over Harry Miller’s head.

He grabbed the horse’s collar and held firm. “You can’t come in here!” He pointed to the quarantine sign. “Can’t you read, woman?”

Sniffing, the woman peered down her long aristocratic nose. “Obviously you can’t. The sign’s upside down, you fool.”

Harry frowned and turned to stare at the sign tacked to the fence post. He turned back. “There’s sickness in there. Go back to where you come from.”

Raising her whip over her head, she warned him again, “Step aside! I’ve never been sick a day in my life!”

“Don’t doubt it,” he grumbled. “Even the fever would run fast from the likes of you.”

Laticia handed the whip to her driver. “Lash him, Abraham.”