Brazen (3 page)

"Frank!" She ran frantically to her husband's side. He
was unconscious, and his shirt was blood-soaked. She looked up at Tom in horrified disbelief. "What happened?"

"He must have been ambushed. He was shot in the
back and robbed," Tom quickly explained as he dismounted and went to her. "I already sent Harry to town
for the and the sheriff."

"Who did it? Did Frank say anything?" Elizabeth asked
tearfully, kneeling down and taking her husband's hand.
His grip was usually strong and firm, but now his hand
was limp in hers.

"No. He was unconscious when we found him."

"Let's get him inside," she directed quickly, desperate
to do all she could to save him.

With great care, the men lifted Frank off the travois and
carried him inside and upstairs. It wasn't easy, for he was
a big man. They laid him carefully on his bed. Tom stayed
on to help Elizabeth, while the other hands went back
outside.

Elizabeth stripped off Frank's shirt and removed the
makeshift bandage Tom had put on the wound when
they'd found him. She cleansed the wound as best she
could, but there was little more she could do. The bullet
was still in him.

They waited anxiously for Dr. Murray to arrive.

"Why would anyone do this?" she whispered to Tom.

"I don't know, but whoever did do it was a cowardback-shooting him this way," Tom answered solemnly.

Tom left Elizabeth with Frank then and went downstairs to wait. He had been the foreman on the Circle D
for five years, and he admired and respected Frank. If he'd had any idea who'd ambushed his boss, he would
have been riding after the culprit to seek revenge, but he
had no clue. There had been no talk of trouble in the
area or of any outlaw gangs around.

Tom knew the Donovans had had some run-ins with
neighboring rancher Jack Turner over the years. Old man
Turner had no use for Frank, and Frank felt the same way
about him, but their hatred for each other had never resulted in

Elizabeth stayed by her husband's side, anxiously
awaiting the doctor's arrival. Each minute seemed an eternity as he lay so deathly still before her, his breathing
shallow and labored. She desperately offered prayers that
the doctor would be able to save him.

The moment Elizabeth heard the sound of a carriage
pulling up, she hurried to the window to look out. When
she saw it was the doctor, she rushed from the bedroom
to meet him downstairs.

"Thank God, you're here!" she exclaimed.

"I came as soon as I got word from Harry." Dr. Murray
quickly grabbed his bag and climbed down from the carriage. He could see how distraught the normally dignified,
elegant Elizabeth was, and knew Frank's condition had
to be as serious as the ranch hand had said. "Harry will
be along soon. He was on his way to see Sheriff Montgomery when I left."

Elizabeth led him inside to the bedroom.

Her usually vibrant, handsome husband looked so pale
when she reentered the room that for an instant Elizabeth feared he'd died in the moments she'd been gone from
his side.

"Is he-T' she asked, terrified.

Dr. Murray went to examine Frank and quickly reassured her, "No. He's still alive."

"Thank God."

"Why don't you wait in the parlor? I'll call you as soon
as I'm done."

Elizabeth left the room and went downstairs to find
Harry had returned and was talking quietly with Tom in
the front hall.

"Sheriff Montgomery wasn't in his office, so I left word
with his deputy about what happened," Harry explained
as she joined them. "He said he'd send him right out when
he got back."

"Thank you, Harry."

"If you need anything, let us know," Tom and Harry
said, looking as if they wished there was something more
they could do.

"I will."

After they left her time passed slowly for Elizabeth. Not
for the first time in all the years she'd lived on the Circle
D, she cursed the place. None of this would have happened if Frank had listened to her and moved back to
Philadelphia as she'd wanted to do. Her family was there,
and she and Frank would have been safe and happy in
that civilized world. Now here she was, waiting in agony
to hear if her husband was going to live or die all
because someone had shot him down in cold blood.

Tears filled her eyes. Frank was a strong man, a pow erful man. She loved him dearly, but she had never understood his passion for this ranch and this way of life.
That was why she'd wanted Michael to go back East to
college four years before. She'd wanted her son to know
there was a bigger, more refined world out there beyond
the Circle D and Hard Luck, Texas. Frank had been reluctant to let Michael go, but she had insisted.

Elizabeth realized she would have to send one of the
men into town to wire Michael as soon as she talked with
Dr. Murray. Michael had just completed his studies, along
with his cousin Nick, and they were scheduled to embark
on a trip to Europe to celebrate very shortly. She wanted
to get word to him of the shooting before they sailed. She
needed Michael here with her.

Nearly half an hour passed before Dr. Murray sought
her out in the parlor. She got tiredly to her feet when the
physician appeared in the doorway.

"Is Frank going to be all right?" Elizabeth asked nervously, seeing his serious expression.

Dr. Murray went to her. "I think you'd better sit down."

Horror filled Elizabeth. She sank down on the sofa, and
he joined her there.

"Frank's not--?" she began, terrified.

"No," he quickly reassured her. "He's regained consciousness. He's going to live."

"Thank God." Tears of relief and joy welled up in her
eyes.

"But there is something you need to know," the doctor
went on solemnly.

"Yes?" Elizabeth was cautious, wondering why he was
so grim after telling her such good news.

"The gunshot wound was serious, very serious. It's left
him paralyzed from the waist down."

Elizabeth stared at the doctor in disbelief as she tried
to grasp what he'd just revealed. "Frank is paralyzed?"

"Yes."

"But it's only temporary. He'll get better, won't he?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Donovan, but no. He's not going to get
better. Your husband will never walk again." Dr. Murray
hated being the bearer of such tragic news, but he didn't
want to give her any false hope. He waited a moment in
silence, seeing her shock and giving her a moment to
come to grips with what she'd learned. "Frank has been
asking for you. Are you up to seeing him?"

Elizabeth nodded and slowly walked with the doctor
to the bedroom. She paused in the doorway to stare at
her husband as he lay as pale as death on the bed.

"Frank," she softly said.

At the sound of her voice, Frank opened his eyes and
turned his head slightly toward her. "Elizabeth-" It took
all his strength just to say her name.

She ran to the bedside crying and pressed a tender kiss
to his cheek.

"Send for Michael," he whispered hoarsely. "You must
send for Michael."

Philadelphia

"So tomorrow is the big day," James Paden said with great
pleasure as he went to the bar in his walnut-paneled study. "I think this deserves a drink in celebration."

He poured healthy servings of whiskey into three crystal tumblers, then handed one to his son Nick and one to
his nephew Michael Donovan. He took the third glass for
himself and lifted it in a toast.

"To you, Nick, and to you, Michael. Congratulations."

Thank you, sir," they replied.

They all took a drink.

James smiled at the two young men who stood before
him. He was proud of them and what they'd accomplished. They had graduated from the university and were
ready to embark on their trip to the Continent.

James's gaze settled approvingly on Michael. He'd
been worried when his nephew had first arrived in Philadelphia four years earlier. Michael had been a roughand-tumble cowboy then, but no visible trace of his
Western background remained now. Tall, darkly handsome, and perfectly well-groomed, Michael had matured
into a polished gentleman and fit easily into sophisticated
society. James knew that that had been his sister Elizabeth's hope when she'd sent him there to attend the university, and he was glad Michael had made the
transformation so successfully.

"I'm sure your mother and father are very proud of you,
Michael. It's just a shame that they couldn't join us here
for the ceremony."

"It's a busy time on the ranch right now," Michael told
him, fully understanding why his parents hadn't made the
trip.

"You plan to go see them when you get back from
Europe, don't you?"

"Yes. I'll go home for a visit then."

"Good. Now, Nick has been to Europe before, so he'll
be more than happy to show you the sights," James said,
glancing over at his son and smiling.

"I'm looking forward to it."

"We're going to enjoy every minute," Nick said confidently.

"I'm sure you will," his father agreed. "Michael, have
you thought about what you want to do now that you are
done with school? Do you want to return to ranching, or
stay here with us?"

Before Michael could answer, Nick put in, "He does
have certain interests here, you know."

"You do?" James looked at his nephew.

"Karen Whittington, for one, Father," Nick finished.

"Well, should you decide you want to stay on and work
here in Philadelphia, there will always be a position open
for you with Paden Shipping."

"Thank you." Michael was honored by his uncle's offer.

"As for Miss Whittington could do far worse,"
James went on thoughtfully. "Her family is quite affluent
and very influential. Have you proposed to her yet?"

"No," Michael answered quickly. He found Karen an
attractive woman, but their relationship hadn't progressed that far. He wasn't sure it ever would.

"Are you planning to see Karen again before we set
sail?" Nick asked.

"Yes, I'm meeting her later tonight."

"I don't think she's happy that you're leaving."

"She hasn't said anything-"

"From what I know about Karen, I'm sure she would
prefer you to stay right here in Philadelphia with her."
Nick knew how spoiled the rich, beautiful blond debutante was, and he had cautioned his cousin about getting
too involved with her. Karen had a reputation for being
a very controlling young woman.

"What about all your women?" Michael countered. "Do
they know you're leaving?"

Nick was one of the most sought-after bachelors in
town. Many a mother had set her sights on him as potential husband material for her marriageable-age daughter.
He had money and the Paden dark good looks, but he
didn't see the logic in settling for just one woman, when
he could have them all.

Nick chuckled at his cousin's question. "They know. In
fact, I was wondering who was going to show up to see
us off."

"Why don't you hire several carriages to transport all
your admirers down to the station?"

All three men laughed good-naturedly.

A knock came at the study door, and the Padens' butler, Jonathan, came in.

"This telegram just arrived for Michael, sir," Jonathan
announced.

Michael smiled as he took the telegram. He was certain
it was from his parents, wishing him well on his trip. He
tore open the envelope and quickly read the message.

Nick watched him as he read, and he noticed how se rious Michael's expression became. "What's wrong?"

Michael looked up at him, his eyes dark with worry.
Any thought of going to Europe had been instantly banished from his mind.

"I have to go home." There was no uncertainty in his
voice.

"Why?"

"My father's been injured."

"What happened?" James asked worriedly.

"I don't know the details. Mother didn't say. She only
said he's been paralyzed." Michael frowned, trying to
imagine his strong, vibrant father crippled.

"What? Paralyzed?" James was shocked. "You've got to
get back home at once."

"And I'll go with you," Nick offered, ready to help Michael in any way he could.

"But the trip to Europe-I can't ask you to give it up. I
know how much you've been looking forward to going."

"You didn't ask me to give up the trip. I just offered.
Besides, that's what family is for. I'm going to Texas with
you. You might need me."

Michael smiled in appreciation of his cousin's support.
"I'll check at the train depot right away and see how soon
we can depart."

"How long will it take us to get there?"

"Depending on connections, it could take a week,
maybe longer, to reach Hard Luck."

"Then we'd better get going."

"Do you need any money?" James offered.

"No, Uncle James, but thanks."

"Is there anything your Aunt Sarah and I can do to
help?"

Michael looked up at him. "Just pray."