Sarah's Surrender (27 page)

“I got it from Miss Zelma. You weren't awake yet, so I took care of Claire.”

Sarah smiled and mussed his hair. “Could you watch her a bit longer while I check on the stranger?”

Cody nodded and dropped down in front of Claire.

Sarah glanced down at the dress she'd slept in, in case she needed to tend Jack, and now it was hopelessly wrinkled. She couldn't change with Cody there, so she peered out the tent flap. Claire whimpered. She wanted to pick her up, but she needed to see who was out there first. Sure enough, she could see the man Cody was talking about, near a tree. He looked as if he'd slumped over now. Past the man, an empty buggy sat.

She grabbed her satchel, carried it outside, and then removed her gun. She didn't want Cody to know where she kept it. Claire started fussing, and she could hear Cody sweet-talking her. She glanced down the hill to see where the Peterson men were, but none were in view.

Sarah crept over to the man. As she drew near, her heart beat faster. Suddenly she stopped as recognition dawned. Dr. Worth? What was
he
doing here? She stopped beside him and couldn't help staring for a moment. Since she'd been grown, she'd never seen a man sleeping before, except for Jack when he'd curled up in his bed last night. Dr. Worth's nut-brown hair was mussed, and his dark lashes fanned his tanned cheeks. His jaw was shadowed with whiskers. With his wire-framed glasses off and his body so relaxed, he looked less intimidating. She swallowed hard as she realized the inappropriateness of what she was doing. She bent down and shook his shoulder. “Wake up, Doctor.”

He mumbled something she couldn't understand then rolled over onto his right side. Then he suddenly lurched to his feet and spun around, his hand forking his hair away from his eyes. Sarah jumped back and instinctively lifted the gun. As if unsure of what he was seeing, Dr. Worth bent down and grabbed his jacket then fished his glasses from a pocket and put them on. His gaze dropped to the gun, and then a charming grin lifted his lips. “Do you plan to shoot me, Miss Worley?”

“What? Um … no.” She lowered her arm. “Why are you here?”

“To protect you and the children, of course.” He grimaced and bent his body to one side as if stretching his muscles.

“You fell asleep on the job.”

“Sarah! You all right?” She glanced over her shoulder and saw Zelma and the twins hurrying toward her.

“I'm fine.”

Dr. Worth cleared his throat. “Are those the people who are building your house?”

“Yes. I told you I wasn't alone.”

“But I thought … Well, I didn't see them last night, so I figured they'd left.”

Zelma breathed heavily as she drew to a stop next to Sarah. “Cody said—a stranger was—sleepin' up here.”

“He's not a stranger. Jack got roughed up last night when he went into town, and the doctor was kind enough to bring him home.”

“And he stayed?” Zeke eyed the doctor like a man would a rabid coyote, his twin brother doing the same.

Sarah searched her mind for a reasonable reply. “Um … well, Jack was in pretty bad shape. What if he needed the doctor and he wasn't here?”

Zach scratched his whiskery face. “That does make sense. Sarah would've had to leave them young'uns and ride to town in the dark if Jack had needed the doctor.”

“Or she could've come and got Ma. She knows as much as a doctor.” Zeke eyed his brother.

Zelma looped an arm through each of her sons. “C'mon, you two. Things are fine here, and I've got breakfast halfway done. I need to get back to it. Sarah, bring the doctor over to eat. It's the least we can do for ‘im.”

Zelma almost forcibly tugged her sons toward her camp. They didn't look as willing to go as she did. Sarah was grateful for their concern but glad they had gone. She glanced down at her toes sticking out from beneath the hem of her skirt. She must look a fright. She hadn't fixed her hair or put on stockings and shoes. Feeling self-conscious, she looked at the doctor. “Thank you for watching over us, Dr. Worth. You're welcome to stay for breakfast if you like, but I need to return to my tent for a few minutes.”

“I'll check on Mr. Jensen and then be on my way. I do appreciate the offer, though.”

Sarah spun around, eager to get away from the confusing man. Why had he felt the need to protect them? Because he'd given Jack medicine that would make him sleep all night? It was a kind thing to do, although unnecessary. Still, his sacrifice of a decent night's sleep disarmed her. Would he do that for any of his patient's families? She doubted it, so why do it for her? Was it penitence because of how he'd treated her the first time they met?

Cody stepped out of the tent, lugging Claire. The girl grinned and waved, jumping so hard he almost dropped her. Sarah took Claire and gave her a hug then patted Cody on the head. “Come back in my tent. I need to tell you something.”

He looked up at her and nodded.

Sarah sat on her cot and placed Claire next to her. She motioned Cody to come to her then took his hands. His thin eyebrows dipped together in concern. “I need to tell you that your pa got hurt last night.”

His blue eyes, so much like his father's, widened. “How bad is he hurt?”

“I suspect it will look worse than it actually is.” At least she hoped that was the truth. “He'll probably be sore for several days and move slower than normal. The best thing we can do is let him rest.”

“And pray for him.”

She smiled. “Yes. That's true.”

“Can we do it now?”

Sarah nodded, took hold of Cody's hand, and closed her eyes. “Father, we ask you to heal Jack's wounds and help him feel better quickly.”
And help him tell me the truth about what happened. Don't let him get drawn back into the life he once had.

“Amen!” Cody said. “Can I see Pa now?”

“The doctor is with him right now. I need to finish dressing, and then we'll go see if he feels like eating some breakfast.”

“Can I help get it?”

She tugged the sweet boy into her arms. “Of course, you can. That would make your father happy.”

Cody hugged her back. “I love you, Sarah.”

Her insides warmed like hot syrup. She'd missed the hugs she frequently received from Lara's children. “I love you, too.” She placed a kiss on his cheek then set him back. “Now, run outside for a bit.”

“You want me to take Claire?”

The girl bounced at the mention of her name.

“Thank you, but I think she'll be fine here.”

“Pa likes pancakes—and coffee. I think I'll go see what Miss Zelma's making for breakfast.”

“That's a good idea.”

The eager boy rushed from the tent, and she could hear him running. She hoped seeing his pa so beat up wouldn't upset him too much. As she changed Claire's diaper and gown, she wondered again at Dr. Worth's actions. Why would he feel the need to come back and protect her? Did he think she was incapable of protecting the children and herself? Or was there more to the situation than she was seeing?

As Luke waited for the railroad attendant to open the stock car so that he could retrieve Golden Boy, he studied the town. Much had changed in the three weeks that he'd been gone. The depot had been finished, and buildings in all stages of construction filled his view. Tents still dotted the area, but it was looking more and more like a town. He patted the pocket that held the telegram informing him that the lot he wanted was for sale.

Golden Boy whinnied, and Luke started forward as the attendant led the gelding down the ramp. The horse spied him and nickered, trotting forward. Luke handed over his claim ticket.

The porter, a brawny man about Luke's age, nodded and pocketed the ticket. “What do you want to do with that big trunk you had shipped, Mr. McNeil?”

“I'll need a wagon to haul it. Can you store it in the depot until I make arrangements?”

“Yes, sir. Just hang on to your other claim ticket.”

“I appreciate that.” Luke checked the cinch on his saddle and mounted. He headed for Third Street to find Mr. Brownlee's store and pay him for the lot. His gut tingled. Before long, he'd be in business.

He tipped his hat at a couple of women walking past. His herd of horses had fared well at Gabe's, and the several he'd broken in during his three-week stay would only need a bit more work before he could sell them as green-broke mounts.

He reined his horse to a halt at Brownlee's, slapped his reins over the hitching post, and then strode inside the new shoe store. The familiar scent of leather greeted him. Boots lined the whole wall to his left, with some fancier dress shoes on racks in the back. A man assisting a seated gentleman in a suit looked his way and smiled. “I'll be right with you, sir.”

“No rush. I'll just have a look at your boots. Never know when a man might need a new pair.” Like for a wedding. All he needed was a wife. He picked up a dark brown boot, admiring the fancy stitching on the shaft. He looked at several more before the customer left without making a purchase. The clerk walked up to him.

He glanced down at Luke's worn Justins. “I'd say you're about a size eleven. I like a man who cares for his boots.” He held out his hand. “Herbert Brownlee at your service.”

Luke shook the man's hand. “Luke McNeil. Seems to me you'd prefer men who didn't take good care of their Justins. That way you'd have more business.”

“I suppose that's one way to look at it. Your name sounds familiar.” Mr. Brownlee rubbed his clean-shaven jaw, and then his eyes brightened. “Say, aren't you the fellow buying the lot next door?”

Luke smiled. “That I am. Got the money in my pocket. You got the deed?”

“Yes, sir. It was a shame my brother decided not to stay. That's a nice corner lot he had. If the workers hadn't already started on my building, I would have traded him. Clyde couldn't handle the Oklahoma heat. Went back to Wisconsin, he did.” Mr. Brownlee walked around the shiny wooden counter and pulled an official-looking paper out from under it. “Just pay me the money and sign on this line, and you're in business, Mr. McNeil.”

It took less than a minute to conduct their business. Luke grinned the whole time. He had achieved one of his longtime dreams. He was a landowner. Albeit, it wasn't the ranch he'd thought he'd own, but he would still be working with horses—and running a livery would leave him more time to pursue the woman he loved. Not to mention, the town lot cost much less than what he'd sold his homestead for, so he'd made a nice profit.

He left the store whistling a jaunty tune and more than a little glad Mr. Brownlee hadn't asked him what kind of business he planned to start. The man might not like being so close to a livery, especially during the heat of summer.

Luke walked across his land, thinking about where to raise his building and corral. There wasn't room for many horses, so maybe he could rent some of Sarah's land to keep them on. They would be close if needed.

He spent the next hour walking around town, trying to find a crew to work on his building, but all of them were booked with other obligations for a long while. Maybe the family building Sarah's house would be interested. From the work he'd seen before he left for Gabe's, they'd done a good job.

As he rode out of town, he relished the fact that although there was a blacksmith in town, no one he'd talked to knew of another livery. That would be good for his business. He mentally made a list of things he needed to buy—ropes, curry combs, and other grooming tools, farrier tools, a buggy, buckboard, not to mention whatever he would need for his private quarters. At least he was used to getting by without much. There hadn't been room in the bunkhouse for things of comfort. Besides, what did a man need with those? He wouldn't mind a big bed with a thick mattress, and maybe a chair and table, but he didn't require much else.

He tallied up the cost of the things he still had to buy. Good thing Gabe was giving him some of his older tack, saddles, and a spring wagon that he planned to replace soon. That would help, although he'd probably have to spend quite a bit more time in repairs than if he could afford to buy new gear. Hopefully, the day would come when he could. First, he must find someone to construct his building and a place to live, and then he'd see how much money he had left from what he'd saved all these years.

His thoughts shifted to Sarah, and his gut tightened. He'd missed her. There'd been few times since she'd come to live with Gabe that they'd been parted for so long. Dare he hope she'd missed him too?

As he crested the next hill, he reined Golden Boy to a stop and stared at Sarah's brand-new house. It rose up from the prairie as bold as an oak. The two-story house wasn't nearly as large as Gabe's and Lara's, but it would suit Sarah well. She'd finally achieved her dream. Would there be room for him in her heart now that she had?