Fired Up (5 page)

“And me.” Paul must've heard his mother just as he was about to go inside. Of course the boy wouldn't let his mother ride off without him.

Janny was still here. Dare braced himself for the little girl to also demand a horse.

“Sure, you'll go, Paul,” Glynna said firmly. “We'll need every hand. Now get the water inside and help Ruthy gather the ingredients the doctor needs.”

With a sullen jerk of his chin, Paul turned and went inside.

Dare turned to look at Glynna, so delicate, barely healed from Flint's mistreatment of her. Her face scraped up from yesterday's avalanche. Now the confounded woman wanted to ride into a village of possibly hostile Indians. He opened his mouth to forbid it.

“I'm going.” She cut him off before he could say a word. “You've been talking about all the medicine you need and how much work it's going to be to treat the whole village. You need every hand.”

“Not yours. You and Ruthy and your children are staying here.”

“I'm going. Did I not just sew up your back yesterday?”

“What's that got to do with anything? No one's gonna need stitches in the Kiowa village.”

“What it's got to do with anything is, I've done more than
sew up bullet wounds. I've nursed my children through the measles. I've tended fevers caused by festering wounds. I've even set a broken arm. In fact, the only doctor in these parts who's better than me is you, Dr. Riker.”

Scowling, Dare said, “I've told you not to call me that. I've not had proper training, and that means I'm not a doctor.”

“Well, fine then. I'm the
best
doctor in these parts. From here on out, call me Dr. Glynna. I'm going. You can come along and hold the horses.”

Dare thought
hold your horses
was a real good idea—for Glynna. “You've got no place in an Indian village. You saw the weapons we took from Red Wolf. We're going where we're not even sure to be welcome, and we could very likely meet resistance that includes tomahawks and knives and even guns.”

“Red Wolf is here. He must have told his village he was coming for help. Why in the world would we meet resistance? You know very well, we'll be welcomed with open arms.”

Some of the hired men who hadn't wandered out of earshot started coughing, and they pivoted to head for the barn. Dodger said, “I'll just start saddling. You settle this.”

“Red Wolf came here, yes, but there may be others in the village who aren't happy about what he did.” Dare decided to talk slow. Maybe then the half-witted woman would be able to understand just what a terrible idea this was. “And they'll be upset if he doesn't come back. They might take their upset out on us.”

“They won't hurt us. We'll explain about Red Wolf and tell them we have medicine. We'll be fine.”

“We'll be dead.”

“Then you'd better not go, either.”

“I have to go. I can't sit here and do nothing while people are dying for lack of a doctor.”

“Which you are
not
. You said so yourself.” Glynna turned from Dare and said to Janny, “You go on in with Ruthy. You can help tend this sick man, but I'm going to help in the village.”

Dare closed his eyes. “You're not going and neither is your boy.”

“Paul is about as tall as you, and just as fast. And judging by how much time you're wasting arguing when you should be tending that man, I'd say he's smarter than you, too.”

Dare wondered if he knew Glynna well enough to take her over his knee. He reckoned not, but the idea had merit, and he didn't toss it away entirely.

In the meantime, he decided to settle this up quick. “You are staying here at the S Bar S and that is that. I am laying down the law. You're not going and neither is your son.” By the time he was done he was roaring. “And I don't want to hear another word about it.”

Glynna made a point of riding just a pace ahead of Dare.

Glancing at him—back just slightly. She'd had more than enough of men dictating to her. A fact she'd just demonstrated very clearly.

“I can't believe you're riding with us.” Dare glowered at her, but it was just words.

There was no action he could take to stop her, short of tying her up. Thank heavens he hadn't thought of that.

“I should have tied you up and stuffed you into Luke's house.”

Which meant he had thought of it.

“That's your pride talking.” She actually said it politely, trying to soothe his manly feelings. “You'll be glad I came along. I can be a big help.”

He spurred his horse to ride beside her. She resisted the urge to speed her own horse up. No sense starting a race.

“Ruthy could've used the help, you know. I'm surprised we managed to persuade her to stay behind.”

“Well, someone had to stay with the sick man.”

Dare snorted. “You mean the sick man who carried a knife and a tomahawk in his belt? He's never seen Ruthy before in his life and could be a might upset if he wakes up surrounded by strangers.”

“Red Wolf was unconscious. Do you think I'd have left Janny there if I was a bit worried? You can use every hand. Admit it.”

Dare rode closer to her. He took a look at Luke, who was well ahead of them, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Ruthy has a baby on the way, which I still haven't informed her of. Neither one of you women nor your son has a place in this mess. I should've stopped Luke from coming, too.”

“Someone who speaks Kiowa might be the difference between life and death.”

“In this peaceful village that is waiting to welcome us with open arms?” Honestly, Dare's sarcasm was not welcome.

“Dodger said they've got some English speakers, but Luke was hopeful his Kiowa language would make a difference.”

Dare quit nagging her and they rode on, almost companionably for a while—well, more like the battle lines were drawn, but at least the silence was welcome.

Then he turned to her. “So where'd you go to medical school?”

More sarcasm. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You said you know how to sew up bullet wounds and set a broken arm. Nursing the children through the measles . . . I can see how you learned about that. But was it one of your young'uns who had the fever caused by festering wounds?”

With a humorless laugh, Glynna said, “Except for the measles, my training all came from doctoring my husband.”

“Flint?” Dare's eyes narrowed, and he was really watching her now, too interested.

“No, Reggie. Paul Reginald Sevier—was named for his father and his grandfather before him. And Paul is named for the lot of them. We always called my husband Reggie.” Glynna never talked about her first husband. She'd buried her past, right along with Reggie, and good riddance to them both. Why had she brought him up? She would've been better to blame the war for her doctoring skills—which was true, mostly.

“He was a clumsy man?” Dare sounded sarcastic again.

“As clumsy a man as ever lived.” Deciding it was past time to change this dreadful subject, she said, “Well, you learned doctoring somehow, but you say you're not a doctor. Would you care to explain that?”

Dare jerked one shoulder. “I told you, I was in Andersonville Prison. I helped the doctor and ended up learning a lot, but I never went to school. Never did what I should've done to be a real doctor.”

Glynna considered that. “You treated me when Flint knocked me down. I think you're a very good doctor.” She smiled but suspected it was a sad sort of smile. “I'm glad you were there, whether you've had all the right schooling or not. Thank you for helping me when I was so rude.”

Their gazes met, and the only sound was the pounding of the horses' hooves as they moved toward sickness and possible danger.

“You've got the prettiest golden eyes, Glynna.”

The compliment ended the moment. She turned to face forward. “I've heard enough flattery to last a lifetime.”

The bitterness almost echoed across the canyon, though they still spoke quietly. “If my looks are pleasing to men, then I'd as soon be a shriveled old crone. Men have made my life a misery.”

“I don't know Reggie, but if he's anything like Flint, I'd say you're right.”

“He was nothing like Flint, but there are many ways to be a useless excuse for a man, and I've had my share of variety.”

Dare chuckled. “Maybe your luck will change.”

“It certainly will. I'm through with men.” That was a very good reason why she shouldn't be looking deeply into Dare Riker's blue eyes.

“You've got one man there's no getting shut of.”

“No, I don't.”

“Your son.”

Startled, Glynna looked at Paul. “I don't think of him as a man.”

“I promise you, he thinks of himself as one.”

It didn't suit Glynna to let her son come along. But the Indians were probably too sick to be dangerous, and she knew Paul would never let her ride off alone. And for once, he seemed interested. He wasn't glaring and glowering at every word out of Dare's mouth. He was, in fact, riding up ahead between Luke and Jonas, not even looking back to see where his troublesome ma had gotten to.

Maybe being needed would help Paul find himself again.

And then Paul looked back and scowled. He dropped back beside Glynna on her left. That drew Luke's attention and he fell back to ride close on Dare's right.

“How's your back?” Luke asked Dare.

“I'm good.”

Luke snorted but didn't say more. Jonas was soon on Luke's far side, then Vince. The two of them led the pack horses.

Glynna looked down the row of strong men, four of them riding abreast. She felt their brotherhood. She prayed that Paul would learn to trust and depend on these men, but he'd been made suspicious in a hard school.

“How far to the Kiowa camp?” Dare asked.

“Dodger said it's just over an hour's ride,” Luke said. “They're close to a herd of buffalo I saw yesterday.”

“Buffalo, really?” Paul sat up straight and looked interested. “Can we see them?”

“I've never seen one, either,” Dare said. “I wouldn't mind a gander.”

Luke smiled at Paul. “I'll make sure you see 'em, but we've got to go to the village first. When I saw the buffalo yesterday, I figured the tribe would be close to hand and I was planning to ride over and speak to them.”

“Red Wolf won't hurt Ruthy and my sister, will he?” Paul gave Luke a worried look.

“He's not going to be dangerous,” Dare answered in his soothing doctor voice. “The way his lungs sounded and how hot his fever was, he'll be a mighty lucky man to beat this disease.” Dare added, “He came to you, Luke. He'd heard you were back and he came riding, sick as he was, for help. His people must know he was heading for the S Bar S, so there's a good chance we'll be welcomed.”

Luke nodded. “Yep, and there were others I knew too, besides Red Wolf. I went hunting and scouting with him and some other Kiowa boys, and Gil Foster. My pa traded with him and was right civil, not friendly like I was with Red Wolf, but they respected each other, and the Kiowa left us alone. The Comanche were never as friendly, though we did some trading with them. With the Comanche, well, there were a few scares, but nothing bad ever came of it.”

Luke gestured to a line of trees that grew near a narrow canyon entrance. “The stream comes up out of the ground just ahead. We'll have to ride single file down the middle of the water to get through that canyon, then we're close to the Kiowa village.”

Luke's voice took on a tone of command. “Ride mighty careful, and watch for sentries.”

They strung out, and the going was slow in the shallow, rushing water. Glynna had never seen anything as beautiful
as the red stripes in the jagged rocks all around them. When she'd first seen them, riding home with Flint, she'd thought all her problems were solved. The Palo Duro canyon was rugged, but the red was pretty and she'd believed she'd finally found a home.

When the canyon opened up, the gusting of the chilly November wind bent the stunted mesquite. The stiff wind and the scent of junipers helped her turn her thoughts from memories of Flint.

A cottonwood shot up here and there, and grass—some of it short in thick clumps, some tall as a horse—filled in the rocky landscape. They rounded a mesa and spooked a herd of antelope, then minutes later circled another mesa and a wide valley opened up before them. Grazing in the valley was a huge herd of buffalo.

Glynna heard Paul gasp at the magnificent beasts. She was pretty sure she'd made a similar noise. They were riding single file, and her son was right in front of her, trailing Luke.

“Give those critters a wide berth.” Luke veered away sharply from the animals. “They're mean if they take a mind to be.”

Glynna couldn't take her eyes off the herd. A couple of the spring calves took notice of them, and one even trotted in their direction as if curious. But the adults all kept grazing, as if riders were an everyday sight. Glynna had heard of the buffalo hunters and she could well imagine how easy it would be to shoot the big animals.