Two Brides Too Many (19 page)

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Nell,” Kat said.

Morgan rushed past them. “I’ll find Judson. Wait here.”

She was supposed to marry the man…was going to marry him, but she hadn’t even heard his voice. “Please, God, let Judson be all right.” Nell whispered the words, then silently recited,
God hath not given us the spirit of fear
.

Kat guided her to a chair. “Morgan has gone to see about him, and he’ll send someone to get us.” Kat’s voice sounded as shaky as Nell’s knees felt. “In the meantime, let’s sit down.”

Nell swiped at her wet cheeks. “He can’t see me like this.”

“No. You’re as white as new dishtowels.”

Nell pinched her cheeks, trying to add a little color to them. At least she had dressed well for the evening. “I’m sorry.”

Kat sighed. “What do you have to be sorry about?”

“Your evening was ruined.”

“It was our evening out, not mine, and it wasn’t ruined. The carriage ride was wonderful.”

Nell had seen how much Kat was enjoying the ride and Dr. Cutshaw’s attention. She reached for Kat’s hand. “You’re right, it was, but—”

“And next time Judson will be with us, and the evening will be perfect.” Kat looked like she wanted to believe what she said. Nell did too.

“But a robbery is violent. He could be badly—” Before Nell could finish, Sister Coleman stepped out of a door at the end of the hallway and walked toward them, her headpiece flopping forward with each step. Nell and Kat both stood and rushed to meet her.

“Have you seen Judson Archer, my intended? Is he…?”

“Dr. Cutshaw is tending to his needs.”

There was something strange in the sister’s demeanor. She didn’t look Nell in the eye like she had last week. Was it pity she saw there?

“What are his needs, Sister?” Kat stood behind Nell. “The sheriff said Judson was robbed. Can you tell us what happened?”

“Let’s sit down, shall we?” The white-haired woman offered a thin smile as they all perched on the few chairs that lined the hall.

“I need to see Judson,” Nell said, her voice insistent.

“As I understood it, Mr. Archer was on his way back to Cripple Creek,” the nun said calmly, “when two men spooked his horse and robbed him.”

“But he was strong enough to make it to the hospital.” Kat squeezed Nell’s hand, infusing more strength.

Kat was right, Nell decided. Judson couldn’t be too bad off if he’d made it to town.

“Yes, well, a miner brought him in on the back of his mule.”

“He didn’t ride his own horse?” Nell heard her own voice climbing the suffocating wall of fear.

Sister Coleman looked up at the stamped tin ceiling. Judson had to be worse off than they were saying for the sister to pause for prayer in the middle of their conversation.

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear
.

Nell pinched the skin on her wrist, bringing some solidity back to her thoughts. Judson needed her. She would take care of him, and he would recover. She’d be strong and sensible like Kat.

“We are going to be married. I need to see him. He needs to know I’m here.”

“Not yet, dear.” Sister Coleman patted her hand. “Mr. Archer knows you’re here. Dr. Cutshaw told him.”

“Good.” Nell rose from the chair. “I’m ready to see him now.”

Kat and the sister both stood, and the nun laid her hand on Nell’s shoulder, her eyes dark. “I’m sorry, dear, but he doesn’t want to see you now.”

Nell’s heart pounded. She looked to Kat for support, but Kat only stared at her in the same disbelief. “That can’t be true! He loves me. I have his letters. Kat, tell her!”

“Dr. Cutshaw is seeing to Mr. Archer’s wounds.” The sister looked over at Kat. “He suggested you take Nell back to the boardinghouse.”

“You must have misunderstood. I can’t leave Judson!”

Kat rested her hand at Nell’s back. “He needs to rest too. Dr. Cutshaw will take good care of him. You know he will.”

“But I—”

“We can come back in the morning when he’s feeling better.” Kat’s eyes radiated compassion and she smiled encouragement—the face of a loving older sister, caring for one of her own.

Nell swept her hair from her face and looked at the nun. “I have to know that he’s going to be all right. How badly is he hurt?”

Sister Coleman placed her hands on Nell’s shoulders and looked into her eyes, her own full of compassion. “He’s going to be fine, dear. He only needs to be tended to, and then a good rest.”

It made sense that Judson didn’t want her to see him banged up and bruised, but how would she wait another twelve hours to see for herself that he would be all right? “You’ll send someone for me if he changes his mind, or gets any worse?” Her voice cracked on the last word.

“We will. You need your rest, and like your sister said, Dr. Cutshaw will take good care of him.”

“Tell him I’ll be here early.” Nell willed her chin to stop quivering. “Tell him I love him.”

“I will, dear. This will all work out, you’ll see.”

She nodded. Judson loved her, and he wasn’t like Kat’s Patrick Maloney. He wasn’t going to leave her alone.

Moments later, Nell and Kat walked hand in hand down the steps of the hospital. They’d only walked a few yards when Nell spotted a mule and a man rounding the corner. Sister Coleman had said a miner brought Judson in on his mule. She’d seen a lot of old men with mules around town, but only one as lean and woolly as Boney Hughes.

“Mr. Hughes!” Nell waved.

The bearded man led his mule over and peered at her and Kat. “Well, if it isn’t the Miss Sinclairs! Whatever are you little ladies doing out at this hour?”

“Was it you, Mr. Boney, who brought in the man who was robbed?”

His whiskered face lengthened, and he removed his hat. “I did, but what does—”

“Judson Archer is my intended.”

“Sakes alive. I done forgot you’d said somethin’ about that at the livery.” He spit, and Nell turned away. “Sorry, ma’am. Some habits are hard to break even in the presence of refined women.”

“Was he badly beaten?”

“Not too bad as beatin’s go.”

“Was he bleeding?” Just the thought of blood turned her stomach, but she had to know.

“I wouldn’t really know, ma’am.”

“How did you find him?”

With a dirty hand, Boney covered his face to hide what looked to Nell like a smirk. What was wrong with him? The man had helped Kat
find the cabin. He adored Rosita. So why would he laugh at her? At Judson? He couldn’t. Her anxiety had to be getting to her. She’d nearly convinced herself of it when Boney turned away and bent in the middle, laughing.

Nell crossed her arms, her head beginning to throb. “You’re laughing? How can you laugh when Judson is lying in a hospital bed, beaten?”

“Sorry, ma’am, but I can’t help myself.” He could hardly get the words out around a snort. “I really am sorry. Truly.”

“You’re sorry about Judson, or you’re sorry for laughing in my face?”

“Both.” He’d practically coughed the word out from behind his hand.

“Then you best tell me what you find so funny about this. I could use a good laugh after being told that my intended was robbed and beaten, and doesn’t want to see me.”

“I would, ma’am, but it’s just too personal.” He waved his hat like a fan, laughing harder.

A man getting beat up and robbed was not a laughing matter. Something else was going on here. She’d find out what it was, and she’d do it right now.

Nell spun toward the hospital door. Kat grabbed for her arm.

“Nell, don’t—”

Nell looked back at Kat. “You can stay or go, but you can’t stop me.”

“I wouldn’t go in there if I was you.” Mr. Hughes stepped in front of her.

“Well, you’re not me.” Nell stomped out around him and off toward
the building. Her sister would either follow her in or not. It didn’t matter. Judson was her man, and no one could stop her from seeing him tonight. She had waited long enough.

Nell burst through the front door, then stormed down the hallway. Judson needed her, and they couldn’t keep her from him. When she heard a man’s yelps coming from a nearby room, she twisted the knob and flung the door open.

Judson lay on the table on his stomach, facing her. She froze mid-step and closed her eyes. But she had already seen Morgan sitting on a stool behind his patient, holding a tool of some sort over Judson’s red, bare backside.

“You? Get out.” Judson’s cry echoed off the walls. “I don’t want you—”

“I’m…I’m sorry,” she stammered. She would have fled if her feet hadn’t grown roots. She felt arms snake around her waist from the back and pull her out of the room. Silently, Kat led her back down the hallway and out the door.

“Oh, my gracious, Kat! Did you see? It was Judson. I wanted to look away, and he told me to go away—but oh, my gracious. I just couldn’t stop staring. His backside—oh!” She grew solemn and whispered, “I think it might have been…cactus.”

Kat’s eyes widened, and she put her hand to her cheek. “Well, Boney did say it was personal.”

Nell couldn’t hold it in any longer. She started to giggle, but as soon as Kat joined her, they both were laughing so hard, tears dripped off their chins.

Poor Judson
.

T
WENTY
-S
IX

W
ith Miss Sinclair out of the room, Morgan continued the task of removing the cactus spines from Judson Archer’s derrière. He couldn’t imagine being any more thankful that he wasn’t this unfortunate fellow. The pain of the cactus ordeal would be torture enough without the horrified look on his intended’s face. She never should have seen him in this delicate condition. But she had, and that probably explained his patient’s sudden silence. Mr. Archer hadn’t uttered as much as a groan since Nell Sinclair’s intrusion and his subsequent outburst.

Morgan certainly couldn’t fault the man for being upset with her. The extrication, as uncomfortable as it had to be, would appear anemic in comparison to the stab of humiliation. Morgan wouldn’t want Kat to see him like this.

Kat
.

He’d thought of Kat first. Not Opal. And surprisingly, he didn’t feel the pangs of guilt over it he would have a week ago.

Morgan continued to extract inch-long spears from Mr. Archer and drop them into a tin bowl.

Morgan had much to be thankful for, especially here in this post-fire community. He had a place to live, even if it was just a basement for now. His doctoring job in this gold mining district was an exciting and unpredictable one, to say the least. In addition, he had the memory of standing atop Tenderfoot Hill beside Miss Kat Sinclair. He had witnessed the awe on her face—an intoxicating mix of joy and wonder.

“Wasn’t she beautiful?”

Yes
. Morgan knew, of course, that Mr. Archer wasn’t talking about Kat. He was glad to see that the man had feelings for his intended beyond mortification.

This is so incredible. Sunbeams waltzing with snow-clad mountaintops
. Kat had said it from the top of Tenderfoot Hill. Yes, she was easy to look at, but there was more. Her fiancé had died. She knew what it was like to lose someone, and yet she was strong and supportive of Nell and Rosita. Best of all, she didn’t apologize for her knowing her mind.

“Those eyes.” Judson Archer sounded like he’d drifted off course too.

“Mr. Archer, I’d say we both learned a valuable lesson tonight. You don’t say no to a Sinclair sister and get away with it.” Morgan stilled his hand while he laughed, and his patient joined him.

“Call me Judson. Sounds like you know the Sinclair sisters. Was that Nell’s sister who grabbed her?”

“Yes, that was Miss Kat Sinclair.” Morgan paused, the forceps midair. “I met her first, here at the hospital, in a similarly awkward situation.”

Judson glanced at his backside. “You can top this?”

Morgan shook his head. “No, not this, I can’t.”

“Nell wrote me about her—all three of her sisters—in her letters. She told me Kat was the writer, but it was Nell’s words that got to me. Did they tell you their father lost his job in Maine and moved to Paris without them?”

“No” Morgan pulled out another spine and laid it on the table. “Only that you are Nell’s intended and that Kat’s fiancé had died.”

“That’s terrible. I hadn’t heard about Kat. The poor girl. In her last letter Nell said one of her sisters had also received a promise of marriage and was coming out with her on the train, but they weren’t due to arrive until June.”

Morgan put the forceps around another spine, and Judson tensed.

“The sheriff said you were robbed,” Morgan said to distract him.

“Two cowboys showed up out of nowhere,” Judson said. “Spooked my horse, then took my coat. I’d gone home to Manitou Springs to tend to my mother in her last days. I’d sold her house and was bringing my inheritance back to fix up my place here with electricity and a claw-foot tub before the wedding.” He let out a breath as Morgan pulled a spine free. “Should have trusted the bank. Now I don’t have any of it. And who knows where my horse is. Good thing Boney Hughes came along when he did.”

That old miner again. He’d come to Morgan’s rescue too, and now Morgan couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to the codger.