Fired Up (19 page)

“Papa Sevier died. We inherited his fortune. With that money, and now free of his father's controlling hand, Reggie became more flagrant in his infidelity. He was gone
more than he was home. I heard rumors that he'd bought a house for a mistress, and he never passed up a poker game. Then my father died and left us more riches. I didn't know how much. It never occurred to me that I should pay attention to our money—there was always plenty. We'd been married nearly ten years when some men came to the door of the mansion we owned in Little Rock to take possession. I laughed. We were rich. It had to be a mistake. I quit laughing when we were thrown into the street.”

“Glynna, I'm sorry—”

“Let me finish.” Raising a hand with a hard snap of her wrist, still facing away from him, she said, “You don't even know all you should hate me for yet, Dr. Riker. There's plenty more.”

“I don't hate you. Don't say that.” He should have, at that moment, gone to her, held her, but he couldn't quite make himself.

“We moved into a smaller house we could afford, because my father had secured some investments so they couldn't be taken by bill collectors. The servants were dismissed and I had to learn to cook and clean. Finally all of my father's money had been depleted and our last move was out into the country into little more than a shack. And then the war broke out. Reggie heard money was being paid to soldiers who enlisted, so he left.”

“He signed up?”

Nodding, Glynna turned to face Dare finally. Her eyes blazing. She was furious, but at him or at her long-ago husband? “He came home after about two months with
money—more money than just what they paid for joining the army.”

“Where did he get the extra?” Dare had a good idea.

“He robbed some of the men in his unit when he ran off. Reggie played this game all through the war. Sometimes he'd come home cut up, beaten. Twice he'd been shot. I learned doctoring. The war ended at last. Reggie no longer had the chaos of war to hide his deceit, but he couldn't stop his thieving. He was caught. At his trial, Reggie told everyone I'd pressured him for the money. They didn't charge me, but they hung Reggie and seized possession of my house. I had two children to raise, and I was a pariah in Little Rock, where so many had died in the war.” Glynna tilted her head at Dare and gave him a broken smile. “And then I read an ad in the paper for a mail-order bride.”

“Flint Greer.”

“There were several to choose from, and I picked the man who was farthest away, hoping my past wouldn't follow me out West. Flint came on the stage to Little Rock and we were married immediately. He seemed very nice, but by the time we'd been married a month he'd slapped me for the first time.”

There was silence at last. Dare was thankful she'd quit. He felt battered by the story.

“And now I look at you and see you would side with all the good citizens of Little Rock in condemning me. Go to bed, Dr. Riker. I'd prefer to stay with my daughter without your company.” She went to Janny's side and sat down, cutting Dare out as if he didn't exist.

“We both need time and rest,” he said. Feeling like the
worst kind of coward, he walked toward the back of his house. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Glynna rest one strong, gentle hand on her daughter's shoulder and bow her head. Dare wondered if she was praying.

It was an idea with merit.

Paul hadn't asked permission to buy a gun. He'd just shown up one morning with it, and Glynna never saw him without it again.

Glynna knew men wore guns on the frontier, men as young as fifteen. And all through the war he'd helped feed their family by hunting. But she still hated seeing that gleaming black pistol holstered on his hip.

And Glynna knew her son was still hostile toward Dare, although it didn't seem to be quite so severe as before. Maybe her son was finally starting to heal. More likely it was because he saw that Glynna was furious with Dare.

Dare still came to the diner for meals and was always polite, yet he rarely looked her in the eye and never said an unnecessary word. She did notice he'd shaved off his mustache. She couldn't look at his face—even though he was none too diligent about shaving—without remembering the moment they'd shared after he'd treated Janny.

The pain was so deep that Glynna thought many times of taking her children and leaving town. She could start a diner in some other little Texas town. Maybe Lana Bullard would
come with her. Knowing how to cook was proving to be a big advantage when running a restaurant. In fact, Lana had kept the diner going all week while Glynna focused all her attention on Janny. Truth was, Lana didn't need Glynna at all. That diner could only barely be considered Glynna's. She didn't own the building, she didn't do the cooking, and lately she didn't even show up. And yet by all accounts things were running smoothly.

Glynna worried about the day Lana figured that out.

Instead of working, Glynna spent all her time in the doctor's house. Dare was often called away, and when he was there, Paul made sure to be there, too. While not exactly friendly, Paul did minimal growling.

Janny, on the other hand, was driving Glynna mad.

“I want up!” Janny's voice, which the child had barely used, and then only at a whisper, for much of the year of Glynna's marriage to Flint, was now working perfectly, frequently, and at top volume.

Glynna remembered her noisy, fussy daughter and was overjoyed to see her rediscover her spirit.

“Let me sit in a chair,” “I'm hungry,” “Read to me, Mama,” “My cut itches,” “Paul's bothering me,” “The bandage is too tight,” “I hurt!”

Oh yes, it was a pure blessing to hear Janny speak—at first. Then Glynna wanted the child to hush up.

“I want to see the sewing in my hand again.”

Just as Janny made that last demand, Dare returned from the Fosters', where he'd checked on the boy who'd had pneumonia. He gave Glynna his usual distant smile, then turned a genuine smile on Janny.

“Hi, Doc.” Janny had taken a liking to the doctor who had dealt her so much pain.

Dare went to her and with his hand he smoothed Janny's unruly hair, pausing to feel for a fever. “You're looking really good today. We're past the time when you should get an infection. You're going to be okay, Janny.”

Dare's voice was warm and strong and kind—except when he talked to Glynna.

“I'm bored, Doc. When are you going to let me get up?”

Glynna had almost forgotten that Janny could talk like this. When she was really young, she'd always been full of stories and questions. She'd grown quiet in the last years with Reggie, especially when he was at home. Then during the year with Flint, Janny had become almost completely silent.

Now Glynna was getting her little girl back.

“I'm going to unwrap it and let you see.” Dare began gently pulling the bandage away. “Right now the cut is still red and puffy, but it's going to keep getting better and better, so don't be upset if it doesn't look good.”

He'd changed the bandage daily. It had looked so vicious and swollen and red that it had terrified Glynna. But Dare had assured her it was doing well. He'd been a perfectly professional doctor in all ways.

But he'd never tried to wrangle another kiss. And the polecat hadn't even given her a real smile. He was just like everyone else, blaming her for Reggie.

Maybe she deserved the blame. She'd never gone to the authorities to turn her husband in. Of course, they'd lived a long way out. There were no authorities.

“I might be able to take some of the stitches out today,” Dare said.

It had been over a week, and normally seven days of stitches were enough. But the cut was so dire that Glynna thought it was much too soon. Dare wasn't asking her for her opinion, so she held her tongue.

As Dare tended to the unwrapping, he looked at Glynna, his expression polite and neutral. “Ruthy's in town. She's invited us all to her house for a meal. She thinks a Thanksgiving dinner is in order and wants to have us out next Thursday.”

“I've lost track of the days.” Glynna tried to remember how long she'd been here tending Janny.

“It's Tuesday. It's been ten days since Janny cut her hand. I think, if we're very careful, we can let Janny get out of this bed and ride in a wagon out to the S Bar S on Thursday.”

Then Dare turned to Paul, who leaned near the window that faced the diner, watching every move Dare made. “Do you want to come, Paul? Jonas and his sister are coming. Vince will be there. Ruthy invited the Fosters, but they want to spend their first Thanksgiving in their own home.”

Paul shrugged, but he didn't say no—much to Glynna's surprise.

Dare turned back to tending Janny.

“I want to go to the ranch, Ma.” Janny was watching her hand be unwrapped like she was anticipating a Christmas gift. “I like it fine now that someone else lives there.”

Glynna hated that house and always would, but she had
to make peace with it for the sake of her friendship with Ruthy, and she knew hating a house was irrational and unfair. “We can g-go.”

Paul gave her a sharp look. It felt as if Paul was now reading her mind. He could tell things were bad between her and Dare. He could tell she didn't want to go to the ranch. Of course, maybe that was no great trick. Maybe everything showed on her face.

The door swung open.

“How's our little knife juggler doing today?” Ruthy came in, her smile generous and full, her red hair shining in the autumn sunlight.

Glynna was glad Dare had warned her of the invitation so she could say yes to Thanksgiving dinner without hesitation. Ruthy and Tina were the best friends she'd had in her life, the
only
friends she'd had for years. It was important that Glynna show true enthusiasm when Ruthy opened her home.

“Mrs. Stone, Dr. Riker said we can come to your home for dinner.” Janny bounced in the bed, and Dare made a scolding noise that kept her still. “He said I'm well enough to be up if we're very, very careful.”

Ruthy sat on the bed on the side across from Dare and very gently, not disturbing Dare at work, gave Janny a hug. Then Ruthy took Janny's healthy hand and turned to Glynna, who stood near the door to the back rooms. She kept her distance when Dare was working with Janny.

“Is it all right with you? If the good doctor here says it's safe and we're very, very careful?” Ruthy echoed Janny's words with a smile.

“Yes, that will be wonderful. Janny is tired of being in bed.”

“Yay!” Janny bounced and threw one hand high.

Dare had the other one in a solid grip or it would've waved, too. “Sit still. I don't know if you understand what I mean by careful, young lady.” Dare's scolding tone was laced with teasing.

Janny laughed. “I'm sorry. I just got excited.”

Ruthy leaned down and gave Janny a loud smacking kiss.

“This looks a lot better.” Dare had the cut uncovered.

Despite her determination to avoid Dare the Betrayer, Glynna couldn't resist coming to stand beside him as he examined the wound.

“It really does look better.” Glynna felt almost light-headed with relief.

Most of the swelling was gone. There would be a terrible scar, but Janny's hand was all right.

“Bend your fingers for me, just a bit.” Dare was all doctor as he pressed here and there.

Janny wiggled her fingers stiffly.

“They're all working. Good.” He puffed out a breath that Glynna recognized as relief, which told her he'd been a lot more worried than he'd let on. Had he feared Janny's fingers wouldn't move? It had never occurred to her. She said a quick prayer of relief that she hadn't had that to worry about.

“I'm going to take out a few stitches.” Dare looked the hand over thoroughly. “A few places, where your hand bends a lot or where the cut was really deep, I'll leave until we get back from the Thanksgiving feast.”

Paul came up to Glynna's side and rested one of his hands on Glynna's shoulder. She hadn't known she needed support, but Paul gave it. She expected rudeness, just because of her nearness to Dare, but her son seemed to know Glynna was nearly overcome.

He studied the wound, and if he had something rude to say to Dare, he controlled himself.

Dare glanced up and his eyes slid past Glynna, who'd assisted so often, to settle on Paul. “Can you help me? I need an extra set of hands, and I think your ma and Ruthy could go have some coffee in the kitchen. I made some earlier. You ladies can take a break from all the doctoring.”

Dare gave Glynna a look she couldn't define, then he rolled his eyes in Ruthy's direction. Glynna noticed Ruthy's fair, freckled skin had turned ash white and her eyes were riveted on the scar.

Glynna got it.

Ruthy needed to get out of here, and it was past time she knew there was a baby on the way. It looked to be Glynna's job to let her know.

“Is that all right with you to help the doctor, Paul? I could stand to let someone else handle this.” The fact that Glynna wasn't perfectly steady said more than words.

“I reckon I can do whatever needs doing.” That was about as close to cooperative as Paul was likely to get.

“Let's go have a cup of coffee, Ruthy.” Glynna walked toward the kitchen.

Ruthy came along so willingly, Glynna knew she wanted to get away. Glynna swung the kitchen door firmly shut, and both of them sank onto chairs with matching sighs.

The sound they made was so similar, their eyes met and they both laughed.

“Was that hard to look at for you, Ruthy?” Glynna had the feeling that any upset Ruthy felt could be tied directly to an expected child, because Ruthy didn't let much get her down.

“I hadn't seen it before.” Ruthy's voice dropped to a whisper, though their voices shouldn't carry unless they got quite loud. “Not since the day she cut it. The poor little girl.”

“For some reason it was too much for me today, though it's so much improved.” Glynna gathered her wits and got them both a cup of coffee, then sat back down. “Does the sight of something like that always make you light-headed?”

Ruthy gave Glynna a sheepish look. “You noticed?”

“You went pale as milk.”

With a little smile, Ruthy said, “I'm not usually such a weakling. It might be because Janny is a child. I reckon that hits a little harder than seeing an adult who's injured. I helped tend Dare when that building blew up on him, and Luke was bleeding, and Vince got shot in—” Ruthy cut off her speech and swallowed hard.

“You mean on the day Flint died? It's all right for you to speak of it.”

Ruthy nodded. “I know you didn't care for your husband, Glynna, but that doesn't make talk of him dying easier to hear.”

“Of course it's easier—not easy, but nothing like if I'd liked the low-down skunk. It occurs to me I've buried two
husbands now. I'm like a black widow spider.” Shaking her head, Glynna changed the subject. “Hmm . . . do you think there might . . . uh, be any special reason you got wobbly, a reason
besides
Janny being so young?”

“I can't think what.” Ruthy lifted her coffee cup to her lips.

Glynna wasn't quite sure how to go on. It might embarrass Ruthy to have someone else tell her of her baby. But Glynna wasn't going to dwell on the day Flint had died. The polecat had come charging into town, thinking Glynna had run away from him, bent on dragging her home. When Dare, Vince, Luke, and Jonas had stood in Flint's way, the man had shot Vince and had a go at killing Dare. With Luke and Jonas at his side, Dare had won that fight and Flint had died. Glynna had been set free and she couldn't regret her husband was dead, but it had left a wound on all of them that it had come to killing the man.

Ruthy took a sip of the coffee, then grimaced and set it aside. “How long has this been on the stove? It smells burnt.”

The coffee smelled just fine, and Glynna decided this was the right moment. “Coffee bothered me a couple of times, too.”

“Well, you've learned to make it much better.”

Glynna smiled. “Do you mean, I've learned to make it much better now that Lana is making it at the diner and Dare is making it here?”

Ruthy's cheeks flushed pink.