Brodie's Gamble (14 page)

“We caught a suspect.” He spoke deliberately, his voice clipped. “There has been no trial, and therefore, no conviction. I’d suggest you wait until the jury makes a verdict before you print more than what I’ve just told you.”

“But, Sheriff…”

Harold’s voice faded away as Brodie walked into the clinic, closed the door behind him, then let out a frustrated breath.

“How is she?”

Sam leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, as if the woman in the other room wasn’t fighting for her life. “She hasn’t woken up yet. Doc says that may be good given the injuries to her head, legs, and arms. If she hadn’t twisted to the side at the last moment, the horse would’ve crushed her skull instead of grazing it. You know, Brodie, she may never wake up.”

“Aye. I’ve thought of that. I’d appreciate it if you’d stay a little longer. I need to send a telegram to Denver and get a message to Mr. Fielder. It’s time he began to prepare for her trial.”

Sam pushed away from the wall. “You’re an optimist, MacLaren, which may be good—as long as Fielder doesn’t mind spending his time preparing for a trial that may never happen.”

Chapter Nine

Circle M Ranch

“Where did that lass go off to now?” Audrey MacLaren mumbled to herself, standing on the front porch, watching the sun begin to set.

“What has you troubled, Ma?” Quinn called out as he reined Warrior toward the house.

“And who says I’m troubled?” She didn’t stop staring at the far end of the property Heather had ridden toward that morning.

“Ah. It must be Heather again.” Tossing the reins over the post, he took the steps two at a time as his brother, Bram, came out of the barn. “Didn’t Caleb ride with her this morning?” Quinn didn’t worry about his sister when one of the lads rode with her. If she weren’t so stubborn, determined she could best any man on the ranch, he wouldn’t worry at all. It was her pride, the need to constantly prove herself that antagonized most of her kin and caused their mother to fret.

“Fletcher and Sean followed her when she rode off without Caleb. That boy’s going to wash his hands of her.”

Quinn shot a look at Bram, who stifled a chuckle. Although Caleb tried to hide it, everyone knew he had feelings for Heather. Strong ones. No matter how much he denied the attraction, he couldn’t keep from staring at her when he thought no one watched.

“You speaking of Caleb?” Bram asked, knowing full well her meaning.

“Aye. She’s too obstinate to see the man he’s become, and he’s too stubborn to push her.” Audrey turned toward the front door. “I’ve supper to finish. If the three aren’t back in an hour…” She glanced over her shoulder.

Quinn nodded. “Aye, Ma. Bram and I will go find them.”

Bram crossed his arms, staring after his mother as she closed the door. “How long is this to go on?”

“You mean Heather going off, doing whatever she pleases with no thought to the rest of us?” Grabbing Warrior’s reins, he walked toward the barn, Bram keeping pace with him. “God forgive me, but there are times I wish she would do what she threatens and find a place at another ranch.”

“She’s a lass, Quinn. Other than to cook or clean, who’d hire her? Ranchers around here don’t want women in the saddle, acting as wranglers.” Bram shoved his hands into his pockets as they entered the barn.

“There are plenty of women who work alongside men.” Quinn thought of one in particular. Emma Pearce, a good friend of Jinny, Brodie’s younger sister. Where Jinny wanted nothing more than to marry and have children, Emma rode alongside her father as a wrangler. Unlike Quinn’s sister, Heather, though, Emma also had no problem helping her mother with cooking and cleaning.

“Aye, but they’re family, like Heather. Her dream to ride out on her own, get away from the rest of us, is the lass’s fantasy.”

Quinn pursed his lips, wondering if Bram was right. Her contemptuous ways and arrogant behavior alienated the family, but could be an asset for a rancher in need of help, such as the woman who owned the spread south of them.

“Maybe old Mrs. Evanston will offer her a job. She’s been having trouble finding men who want to stay around and take orders from a woman.”

“Aye. And Heather has been spending most of her time on our south border, right next to the Evanston ranch.” Bram headed outside, his gaze landing on riders. “Fletcher and Sean are coming in.”

“Heather?”

“No sign of her, Quinn.”

They waited, seeing the huge grins on their cousins’ faces. Neither lost their smiles as they dismounted, walking up to Quinn and Bram.

“You won’t believe this, lads. Mrs. Evanston offered Heather a job, and she took it.” Fletcher chuckled, then saw the surprised looks. “It
is
good news, right?”

“I told her we’d let everyone know.” Sean’s smile faded at the disbelief on Quinn’s and Bram’s faces. “It might be best coming from one of you.”

Bram clasped Quinn’s shoulder. “Ma won’t be pleased, but this may be what Heather needs.”

Quinn nodded, staring at the house as his mother came outside. “Aye, but Ma won’t be happy she made the decision without consulting the family.”

“As Brodie did?”

“Aye, Bram.” Quinn’s voice held a note of sadness and resignation. “The same as Brodie.”

“I’ll find you right away if you get a reply, Sheriff.” Ira Greene leaned on the counter, his mind working. “I know it’s none of my business, but besides the sheriff in Denver, you might want to send messages to a couple of the banks.”

Brodie wondered if his meager budget allowed for more, then shrugged. “Do you have names of bankers in Denver?”

“Sure do. From what I hear, the town is going through a rough time. Still rebuilding after the fires a couple years ago, but there are at least two banks doing a good business. I’ll send your message to both of them.”

Brodie cocked his head. “How do you know all this, Ira? Denver’s over a thousand miles away.”

Ira chuckled, bending down to scoop up a stack of papers. “I get and send telegrams from all over. With the war between the North and South still going on, the number of messages grows all the time. You learn a lot in my business.”

“Aye. It seems you do.” And he was glad for any information Ira could help obtain about Maggie’s family. After two years, he had no idea if they were still anywhere near Denver. At least he had the foresight to get their names from Maggie when they’d returned from the cabin with Colin.

He couldn’t get his mind off her lifeless form when he’d carried her to the doctor’s office. She hadn’t made a sound, opened her eyes, or given any indication of life. If it hadn’t been for her shallow breathing, he’d have thought she’d been killed. Trampled by a horse in her panic to get away from him. She’d clung to life, and he wanted nothing more than to believe she would pull through. If Maggie lived, she’d need an attorney.

It was time for him to talk with August Fielder, let him know they’d found Maggie. He’d indicated he might be interested in representing her. If he accepted her case, Brodie needed to tell him all he’d learned at the cabin. She needed the best defense possible.

Brodie had been lost in thought when his head snapped up at the sound of people crying out. A second later, he felt a strange pulsing sensation under his feet.
Earthquake
, he thought, grabbing the railing to steady himself as he watched men and women, panic on their faces, stream outside.

Doctor Jonathon Vickery grabbed both sides of the bed, trying to steady it as a shockwave jolted the building. Maggie hadn’t come out of her unconscious state, and the doctor knew the slight rocking wouldn’t make any difference. He believed she would eventually wake up, but not from being jostled out of her coma. He was more concerned about his medicines and supplies stored behind closed doors.

“Deputy, are you still out there?”

When the door pushed open, Sam held the doorframe to keep his balance, then let go when the trembling stopped.

“Do you need me, Doc?”

“Not if that’s the end—” He stopped when another jolt rocked the building. This time the doors of the medicine cupboard popped open. “Grab those before they fall.” He nodded toward the bottles rocking back and forth, ready to tumble to the floor at any moment.

Sam let go of the door, losing his balance, then righted himself to grab two bottles. Bending down, he set them on the floor as a stronger tremor ripped through the building, this third one stronger, lasting longer than the others. He heard a loud crash out front and what sounded like the front door slamming open. Screams filled the air outside, and Sam knew he had to see if he could help.

“Are you all right here, Doctor?”

“If the tremors stop, then yes. I know you need to check on the rest of the town. I’ll take good care of Miss King while you’re gone.” Doc Vickery looked down at Maggie’s still form, seeing no change. “Go ahead, Deputy. Come back or send Sheriff MacLaren when you’ve taken care of everything.”

Sam glanced at Maggie, nodding before heading out the door. What he saw stopped him in his tracks. Buildings under construction had come apart, broken wood scattered everywhere. Many of the signs attached above shop entrances lay splintered on the ground. Shattered glass covered the boardwalk. People walked around as if in a trance, some still holding onto posts or rails, fearing another shockwave.

And he had yet to check the other streets, or see Brodie.

Rushing across the street, he put his arm around an older woman who staggered, her hand trying to stop the bleeding from a wound on her head.

“May I help you to the doctor’s office?”

She gripped his arm. “Yes, young man. I’d appreciate it.”

Looking toward the clinic, Sam saw several people already congregating at the entrance, waiting to see Vickery.
One doctor for all these people
, he thought, escorting the woman through the front door, ignoring those already waiting, then nodding at a man who stood so she could take his seat.

“I’ll be back in a moment.” Sam knocked on the room where Maggie slept, then poked his head inside. “Doc, there are a number of injuries. What do you want me to do?”

Vickery was already preparing his bag, stuffing it with medicines and bandages.

“Go to Buckie’s. Tell them we need tables cleared and the help of the ladies. Most of them will be glad to do whatever is needed.” Then he glanced at Sam. “Assuming there are any tables still usable and the ladies aren’t panicked.”

“What about Miss King?”

“Send one of the ladies back here. All she needs to do is keep watch on the patient, then come for me if she wakes up.” Vickery snapped the bag closed. “Tell them I need as much hot water as possible.”

“I’ll leave right now. Oh, there’s an elderly woman out front with a severe head injury.”

“Tell her I’ll be right out, Sam.” Vickery checked Maggie one more time, securing her blankets, then grabbed his coat as Sam knelt in front of the woman.

“Doc will be right out to check on you.” He glanced around at the others. There must have been at least twenty people waiting. “The rest of you need to walk down to Buckie’s Castle. Doc wants to set up a makeshift hospital there.”

Ignoring the grumbling, Sam dashed outside, running toward the saloon. He had a moment of panic seeing the windows blown out, both swinging doors hanging from their hinges, and the large sign on the ground, broken into three pieces. Stepping through the opening, he let out a breath. Other than broken bottles and scattered chairs, the place looked to be in good condition. He stepped to the bar where the dazed bartender stood, hands fisted at his sides.

“The doctor needs the use of the saloon and your ladies to help with the injured. He also needs as much hot water as possible.”

The bartender continued to stare, his jaw slack. Sam slammed his fist on the bar, getting the man’s attention.

“Did you hear what I said? We need your help. Now. The injured will be here any moment.”

“I think they’re already here.” The bartender’s gaze moved to the door where men and women formed a crowd, some with broken arms or legs. “I’ll get the tables ready and heat the water. Would you go upstairs and check with the ladies?” With that, the man started to move, signaling to others in the saloon to help.