One Texas Night (35 page)

“I have a few questions,” Woodward demanded.

McCord swung up on his mount. “Well, I’m all out of answers.” He did wonder why so many folks seemed to be starting conversations with him lately with that statement. “Why don’t you ride back to the stage station with us and maybe you’ll find your answers?”

“I think I’ll just do that.” Dr. Woodward climbed on his horse. “I plan to ask the other passengers if you forced my sister to go with you, and if you did, sir, I’ll have you know, I plan . . .”

McCord didn’t listen to more. He and the three soldiers were a hundred yards ahead of the doctor before he could get his horse moving. The soldiers stayed right with Wynn, enjoying the entertainment of watching the little doctor try to keep up with them.

When they reached the station, McCord could read all the answers in the tracks, but he said nothing. He waved Clark, the sharpshooter, in from where he’d been hiding in case they’d been riding into a trap, and they all waited for the doctor.

The soldiers stayed on guard while McCord let Dr. Woodward storm into the stage station first. Two minutes later, he ran out and threw up at the side of the porch. “They’re both dead!” the doctor said.

One of the soldiers swung from his horse and read the ground as easily as he might a headline in the paper. “Looks like there were ten or more of them. I’m guessing they came in fast.” He scratched his head. “No shells in the mud, so they didn’t come in firing.”

McCord stood at the door and looked in. “The driver and station manager were already dead by the time Thorn and his men rode in.”

“How do you know that?”

“There’s half a dozen spent shells scattered among the cards by the table. One man who was here last night is missing. A gambler who called himself Frank Sanders. My guess is he shot the others, waited for a while to make sure I didn’t come running from the barn, then lit out with the mailbag. I heard a horse traveling fast sometime before dawn.”

Dr. Woodward wiped his mouth. “If this gambler killed those two, why did the gang ride in?”

McCord shrugged. “Maybe they thought the gambler left something behind. Maybe he took something they wanted. If so, they’re after him and not us.”

“So if we go after the gambler, we might just find this Thorn bandit everyone talks about.”

McCord nodded.

Dr. Woodward straightened and tried to pull himself together. “The flaw in your plan, Ranger, seems to be we have no idea where this gambler went.”

“I don’t have to go after him,” McCord answered. “I know where he’s headed.”

Woodward frowned. “And where might that be, Ranger McCord?”

“Camp Supply. Two people saw him and now know he’s part of Thorn’s gang. He’ll be heading to try to permanently silence me and your sister.”

Chapter 5

Annalane fought to keep awake enough to stay in the saddle as she rode, surrounded by soldiers, toward Camp Supply. The land rolled over low hills covered in the green of early spring, and she wondered how such beauty could ever hold danger.

Sergeant Cunningham fussed over her. When they reached the camp, he showed her to her brother’s quarters, ordered men to bring a bath and a hot meal, then stood guard outside her door so she’d have privacy.

Devin’s quarters were minimal. The room had been set up for four officers to sleep in a room, but the sergeant said all the officers had not arrived yet, so her brother had the room to himself. She managed to find everything she needed in either his supplies or her dusty bag. Soap, a brush, towels, clean underclothes.

She soaked in the tub until the water turned cold, then washed her hair. Pulling her undergarments from her bag, she put them on before wrapping herself in one of Devin’s extra bedsheets. The food was simple: milk, cheese, biscuits with jelly inside, and creamy chicken soup. It all tasted wonderful. When she finished, she curled up on one of the bunks and slept soundly.

The late afternoon sun shone through high west windows when someone tapped on her door.

“Begging your pardon, ma’am,” the sergeant yelled, “but one of the men who went to the stage station just delivered your trunk. He says to tell you that if you’re able your brother would like you to dress and join the officers for dinner in an hour.”

Annalane pulled the sheet tightly around her and opened the door.

The sergeant kept his eyes low as he set the luggage inside. He didn’t look up until she asked if McCord had made it in with her brother.

Cunningham smiled. “Yes, ma’am. He checked to see if I was on guard, then went over to the barracks to clean up. The Ranger always eats with the officers the first night when he’s in camp, just to pay his respects, but he’ll be having breakfast with us come morning.”

She understood. “He’s more comfortable. I see.”

Cunningham shook his head. “I don’t think McCord is comfortable anywhere. It wouldn’t surprise me if he sleeps wearing them twin Colts fully loaded and strapped on. But maybe he feels a little less uncomfortable around his own kind. I’ve heard that his family all died while he was off fighting. Haven’t seen him care about anyone or anything in years, until this morning.”

Before she could ask, he added, “The look he gave me when he told me to take care of you left no doubt about how he feels about you, ma’am.”

She thought the sergeant must have read something more into McCord’s order than was there. Maybe the sergeant was just hoping his friend had changed. All she had to do was listen to know that Cunningham and McCord had the same accent. Not Southern exactly, but uniquely Texas.

She thanked the sergeant as she closed the door, and dressed in one of her plain navy suits she’d worn as a nurse. There had been only enough time and money to buy one good traveling dress. All the rest of her clothes were uniforms or housedresses. Years ago she’d had a few evening dresses and two Sunday dresses, but they’d long been packed away. There never seemed time for such things, and she always worked on Sundays when the nurses with families liked to take off.

Annalane hoped her brother would come to walk her over to dinner, but when she opened the door only Cunningham waited for her outside. He offered his arm and she accepted the gesture kindly. He filled her in on what her brother and the Ranger had found at the station. She knew there would have been one more body on the dirt floor of the shack if she hadn’t left with McCord. The thought chilled her.

Four officers and one Ranger stood as she stepped into the small dining room. Her brother introduced her to each officer. They were all polite, but as usual none gave her more than a passing glance. She was not the kind of woman who drew a man’s attention.

To her surprise, McCord didn’t meet her eyes when he took her hand in greeting.

Devin hadn’t introduced her to him, but the Ranger stepped forward and paid his respects just like the others. He’d cleaned up and had on clothes that looked free of dirt. If he hadn’t been frowning, she would have almost thought him handsome. How could this man of granite, with his cold winter eyes that missed nothing, be the same man who’d kissed her so wildly in the darkness?

She didn’t waste time with nothing words. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“You are welcome.” He finally looked up, staring at her as if he saw no one else in the room. “As I remember, you insisted on going.”

“You could have left anytime after the rain started. Why did you wait?”

He lowered his voice. “I wouldn’t have left without you. If you hadn’t wanted to go with me, I would have remained and fought.”

Annalane stared, knowing he meant every word.

Her brother tugged at her arm, insisting she sit between the captain and a tired-looking man with thinning hair named Lieutenant Dodson.

As Devin tucked in her chair, he said, “I asked one of the men to move your things out of my room and into the new infirmary. You can stay there. It wouldn’t be proper for you to stay in the officers’ quarters. I’m an officer so I belong there, and even though you’re my sister, you are still only a nurse.”

When she raised an eyebrow, he added, as if she’d asked, “The three-room infirmary is finished, at least on the outside. One wide front room that will serve as an office and examining room, one smaller storage room, and a large room to be set up as a small sick ward. Once we get everything out of crates, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of room for a bed in the storage room.”

“Nothing is set up?” She knew her brother had been at the camp over a month—surely he’d done something. It occurred to her that he might not know how. Surely any graduate from a medical school would know how to set up at least an office and examining room.

“I’ve been busy,” he answered. “It’s not my top priority right now. I’m not just the camp doctor, I’m also an officer.”

She nodded, telling herself he was lazy, just waiting for her to do the work. He’d been that way as a child, and no uniform had changed his habits. Pushing aside a nagging worry that he might not have spent all his time away in medical school, she resigned herself to sleeping among crates tonight.

She glanced around at the proper table service and wished McCord were not a table away. He was the only one she felt safe with. He was the only one she wanted to talk to. She smiled. In truth neither of them probably had enough skills to keep a conversation going throughout an entire meal.

It made little sense—the man had barely talked to her—but in a deep, primal way she needed to be near McCord.

The captain was formal and polite, but not interested in talking to a woman. Her brother never spoke to her, except to tell her to answer the questions. Lieutenant Dodson, on her left, was a few years older than she was, thin and pale among the other men tanned by the sun. He told her he was the paymaster. The man reminded her of a hawk, and had the habit of blurting out questions in random order. Her answers quickly shortened to simply yes or no, since she had the strong suspicion he wasn’t listening but trying to think of what to ask next.

By the time the meal was served, she’d formed a shell around herself. The men talked around her as if she were invisible. Her brother related his trip to the stagecoach station, including how the bodies looked on the floor and how many times each had been shot.

When one of the young officers suggested that such talk might not be proper in front of a lady, Dr. Woodward announced that his sister loved blood and gore. She’d been at half the battles during the Civil War and came home to work in a hospital for dying veterans when the war was over, as if she hadn’t had enough after over four years.

When dessert was brought in, Annalane excused herself, saying she knew the men would want to enjoy their cigars with coffee and she was still very tired. They all stood and bid her good night, but she had the feeling that only Ranger McCord’s gaze followed her out.

Sergeant Cunningham waited on the steps to see her to the infirmary. “The boys have been scrambling while you were at dinner, ma’am, trying to clean up at least one of the rooms for you. I’m not sure where your brother thought you’d be sleeping when he ordered your things sent to a half-finished building with boxes everywhere.”

Annalane thought of saying she doubted Devin cared, but she tried to smile as she said, “I’m sure it will be fine.”

When she entered the building, she was met by the three men who had gone with McCord to the station. One looked barely old enough to shave and the other two were like Cunningham—they’d fought for the South. They were all smiling at her.

As the men stepped aside, she glanced into the larger room that would become the hospital bay and she laughed. They’d put a tent in the middle of a room lined with boxes. One of the privates stepped forward. “We figured we didn’t have time to clean the place so we put up a new tent for you, ma’am, with supplies we found in some of these boxes.”

Another added, “You got a lock on the door to the room, so you’ll be safe, but you’ll have your own apartment once you’re in the building.” He lifted the flap. “We put some coals on the grate so you’ll be snug as a bug in here tonight.”

Annalane laughed and clapped her hands. “Thank you, gentlemen. I’ve never had something so grand.” They’d even put a little white tea set by the grate and a rug made from blankets on the floor.

They all smiled and would have watched her move in if Cunningham hadn’t shoved them along. “Lock the door behind us, ma’am. We’ll take turns tonight guarding outside, so all you have to do is yell if you need anything.”

Annalane thanked them each again, locked the door, and stepped inside her very own playhouse tent. She had the feeling a few of the items had been stolen from her brother’s room, but tonight she didn’t care. She was in heaven.

First, as she’d done for years traveling with the supply wagons and medical tents, she unpacked her few belongings and laid them out so they’d be in easy reach when she was called to work. Then she dressed in her white nightgown and warm robe that tied empire style. The hem might be frayed and the lace threadbare in a few places along the collar, but she always felt elegant in her robe.

She sat in front of a little mirror and brushed her hair, then braided it in a long braid. Smiling, she remembered how her mother used to tell her that she might never be a beauty, but she had pretty hair.

Her parents had both died two years ago when a flu hit the city hard that winter. Devin had been in his first year of medical school and couldn’t come home. She’d tried to keep working and deal with the debts. One by one she’d sold off everything they’d had, to pay bills and keep Devin in school. He resented having to join the army because there was no money to help set up his practice, but deep down Annalane had thought it would be good for him.