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Authors: Mary Connealy

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #General, #Historical, #Romance, #Western

Swept Away (8 page)

BOOK: Swept Away
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The chaos might’ve covered a few little sounds but not much.

“I think the baby’s coming!” A woman screamed so loud, Luke felt sorry for Dare’s ears.

“You have to relax, Lana.” A sudden garbled sound made no sense to Luke and he tensed.

There was the sound of something being knocked to the floor and it rolled and bounced against the storeroom door.

“Simon,” Dare said, his voice coming out strained, “help me here. Keep her arms off my neck.”

Luke was all of a sudden glad he’d never made the medic detail at Andersonville. He whispered to Rosie, “Is she strangling him or hugging him?”

Luke felt Rosie shrug. All in all, he was glad to be in a tight little room with a pretty woman who, if she thought about it right, would have to admit he’d saved her life. A little gratitude might be in order on her part.

She swayed, and his arms came up to steady her. He knocked into something sticking out on a shelf and it toppled. Only pure luck made him grab it in time. It felt soft, like a bundle of rags. When he stopped its fall, it hit something solid that slid a few inches. The scratching sound was as loud as an explosion in the tiny room.

Ruthy inhaled sharply.

Lana shouted, “Simon, you get over here!”

Which covered the sounds from the storeroom nicely.

“Lana, honey, I’m right here.”

“It’s your fault I’m expecting this baby and—”

“Let’s get you more comfortable, Mrs. Bullard.” Dare’s voice was loud.

Luke wasn’t sure if Dare was speaking so loudly to reach into Lana’s panicked mind or if he’d heard the noise from the storeroom and was trying to cover it.

Probably a bit of both.

The chaos continued in the other room until Luke started to relax and think about spending the night standing up.
At one point, during a particularly loud storm of wailing tears, Luke worked up the nerve to take a chance on getting comfortable.

“Rosie,” Luke whispered, “did you see how big this room is?”

“I saw a little.” She leaned close to answer, which Luke found almighty pleasant.

“Let’s try and sit. We might be here all night.”

“Mrs. Bullard, I need you to lie down.” Dare sounded surprisingly calm for a man doctoring a screaming woman. It was demoralizing to think Dare had gotten used to it—most likely through hours of practice.

“Doc, you’re my only hope. Simon Bullard, you get that bottle of whiskey over here and give me a drink. I need something to cut the pain.”

“You probably shouldn’t drink when you’re expecting a baby, Mrs. Bullard. At least not often and not to excess.”

Since Luke figured no one should drink often and to excess, it didn’t mean Dare had any idea what he was talking about. Luke figured as soon as he got a chance, he’d advise Dare to take up ranching.

“You’re right—it might be a while before we get out of here,” Rosie whispered back. “If we’re real careful, I think there’s room to sit.” Her hands rested on his forearms, and her quiet words were accompanied by the sweet warmth of her breath.

“Be mindful of the shelves.” Luke had a lot of nerve giving advice, considering he was the only one who’d bumped into anything so far.

“You can’t be in labor yet.” Dare was using a comforting doctoring voice, only at a pretty high volume. Ruthy and Luke were being quiet, so Luke decided this was about
trying to penetrate Lana Bullard’s panic. “It’s too early. But there can be some early pangs and those are real hard on a woman.”

Even through a thick wooden door, Luke could tell Dare was being sarcastic.

Luke leaned real close to keep quiet, but also because he found he liked being close to Rosie. “If we’re going to sit, it’d better be now. She’s bound to tire out and quiet down. You go first. Let me hold your hands to keep you steady.”

“I should have never married you, Simon Bullard. What was I thinking?”

“Well, Lana, honey, you was prob’ly thinkin’ you was gettin’ a mite old and fat to be workin’ abovestairs at a run-down saloon, earnin’ a livin’ on your back.”

A shout of pain cut off Simon’s idiot slice of truth.

“Lana, I told you to relax.” Dare was a brave man and no one could deny it. Luke would’ve made a poor doctor, because along about now he’d’ve pitched both of these fools out on the board-walk.

“Doctor, I’d be lost without you.” Lana sounded almost worshipful, as if her very life hung on Dare’s word.

“And, Simon, I’ve suggested before that you need to put Lana’s past away and
not mention it again
.” Dare was shouting toward the end of that.

“That’s right.” Lana talked over the top of Dare. “You stop throwing my past up at me. Now give me that whiskey.”

“Lana, I told you not to be drinking—”

Clasping her hands, Luke helped Rosie sit without worrying too much about noise. She had tiny hands, but rough, with thick calluses. Luke’s ma and sister were women who weren’t afraid of hard work. And they were about the only women Luke had ever known, and his sister had been
young still when Luke had left home. As a child, Luke had lived far from women—aside from his family. There was Gil’s ma; she’d been a nice lady, but he’d mainly stayed outside playing and didn’t really know her. And there were precious few women in a war. Then he’d been to the mountains trapping and spent some time with Callie in Colorado. The only females there were either married or children. But touching Rosie’s hands and easing her to the floor, feeling her trust his strength as she lowered herself . . . well, it felt right. Familiar, when it couldn’t be. Nice. Real nice.

As soon as he was sure she had settled, he inched into a crouch beside her. Carefully, slowly, he swept his hands around, finding a spot where he could ease himself onto the floor. He found a sturdy shelf behind him to lean against. For a second, Luke wondered if maybe he could get a few minutes’ sleep.

“If I die having this baby, I swear my last act on earth will be dragging you down to Hades with me, Simon.” Lana Bullard was one pessimistic woman, and clearly not real straight on the commonly held beliefs of Christianity.

Luke gave up on sleep and wondered if Dare had delivered many babies before. Luke only knew of one and that’d been a very strange situation. But Dare had practiced medicine elsewhere since the war. And Luke put hard emphasis on
practice
, because Dare had learned all he knew from practicing on unsuspecting patients and reading doctoring books. Not one hour of formal schooling to train him for his profession.

Rosie shifted in the dark as if she was uncomfortable. Without giving it careful consideration, Luke reached out, turned her back to him and urged her to lean on his chest.

She resisted his guiding hands, and he leaned forward until his lips brushed against her curls and nearly touched her ear.

“Use me as a backrest. I’ve got these shelves behind me.”

She relaxed into his arms.

Luke brushed her tangled hair a bit so he didn’t have hair in his mouth and found himself smoothing her hair again and again. And again.

The ruckus in the outer room went on. Luke quit listening because it was just the same thing over and over. Almost like music. Really bad music, salted with screams of pain, threats to Simon, and an almost worshipful tone from Lana toward Dare. But still, there was a rhythm to it.

Rosie’s head slipped sideways, and Luke supported her so she was comfortable in his arms as she slept.

He felt the long day catching up with him too, even in this tiny, uncomfortable room. As his head began the swimming just before sleep, he took a second to hope he didn’t snore.

He hoped Rosie didn’t, either. And he hoped if she woke up before him, she had the sense to be quiet.

C
HAPTER 6

Her bedroom door opened.

“Virgil.” Ruthy jerked away. “No. Get—”

A hand clamped over her mouth like a vise.

Ruthy reached for the knife she’d started bringing to bed, but Virgil had her wrapped tight in his arms. No escape.

Then, in the lantern light, she recognized Dare Riker. All the fight drained out of her. She was in a storeroom, not her bedroom. Dare stepped into the doorway looking exhausted, furrows on his brow as he gazed down at her. Dare asked, “Who’s Virgil?”

Luke leaned forward so Ruthy could see who had her. When she relaxed, Luke let her go, set his strong hands on her waist, and boosted her to her feet. He stood and followed her out of the little room. “So, who’s Virgil?”

Shaking the sleep out of her head, she said, “I was supposed to marry him. He drowned in that flash flood.”

Dare looked back. “I’m so sorry, Ruthy, I didn’t realize. You talked about a flood, but we’ve been so busy I didn’t realize you’d lost someone.”

Nodding, rubbing her eyes, Ruthy added, “Yes. Virgil . . . and his parents. My parents.”

Dare stopped so suddenly Ruthy ran into his back.
Looking at her, he asked, “Uh, does that make Virgil your brother?”

Ruthy thought of that terrifying moment when the bedroom door had opened. She controlled a shudder. “I suppose he was my brother.”

“Where’re you from, Ruthy? Because marrying your brother is illegal in Texas.” Dare had a lantern in his hand so she could see his face well enough. He seemed pretty confused.

Which was fair.

“I was taken in by Virgil’s family when my parents died. The Reinhardts were no relation. Virgil’s ma and pa were determined we’d marry.” Something occurred to her for the first time. “I think they wanted my family farm. We neighbored them back in Indiana.” She thought of what Dare had said for a moment and added, “And marrying your brother is illegal everywhere. But they weren’t even adoptive parents. I just lived with them for the last few years. If they’re all dead, if they stole my farm, I should get it back now. I might be rich if I can get to Indiana.” But they would have sold her farm along with their own when they headed west, and if they’d had money, it would have been hidden in their covered wagon, so she gave up on any hope of wealth.

Since it was a hope that had been born and died in the course of a heartbeat, it was no great loss. Though it was one more thing to loathe about the Reinhardts.

“Well, you can’t go to Indiana. Not right now.” Luke waved a hand past her face as if shooing Dare on.

“I’m from Indiana, too,” Dare said. “What part of the state are you from?”

“Don’t you think we should get upstairs while there’s no
one here?” Luke didn’t like Dare and Ruthy acting like this was some Hoosier reunion. And that was just stupid, but still, Luke thought he and Ruthy oughta get on with hiding.

“I sometimes get patients in the night. When I do, they’re always in a tearing hurry. So come this way.”

They followed Dare out of the room to a door that opened onto a stairway. “Ruthy, you can stay upstairs, in the room on the far left.” Dare shoved a key into her hand. “Lock it. I hope that’s proper enough. If it isn’t, we’ll figure something out, but not tonight.”

It was pitch-dark outside. Ruthy had slept some, but she was still exhausted. How long had Dare been with that crazy couple?

“Luke, you’ll stay in the attic. There’s a stairway you can pull down from my bedroom. But those attic stairs sound like a screaming wildcat when you pull them down. Not even the Bullards could miss that noise. When I bought this house, it was crammed with old stuff. There’s just barely room in both places for one person to lie down. You should be able to get some sleep. C’mon, I’ll show you. Hurry in case those two come back.”

Dare led the way up the stairs. At the top, Ruthy headed for her room. Luke caught her arm and turned her to face him. “Did Virgil inspire you to scream and attack very often, Rosie?”

Ruthy looked into Luke’s eyes and realized how isolated she’d been since moving in with the Reinhardts. Virgil’s crude attentions had only been recent, and Ruthy had always gotten away. But she hadn’t truly been honest with anyone for years. She had a powerful yen to just start talking until every thought in her head had been spewed into the night air.

And then she came to her senses. “We don’t have time to talk right now.”

“Maybe later, then.” Luke’s grip on her arm gentled, then fell away.

“Maybe.” She went to her assigned room. Dare followed, and his lantern showed the room well enough that Ruthy could see a bed. Everything else was jumbled, night-shadowed stacks of who-knew-what.

“Keep this door locked and don’t open it to anyone but Luke or me. If Bullard comes back, sometimes Lana runs him out of the office, then he paces. I wouldn’t put it past him to come up here just out of boredom. See you in the morning.”

Ruthy locked herself in and collapsed on the bed fully dressed. The room was pitch-black without Dare’s lantern. Not even starlight came in, so maybe there were no windows. Or maybe the windows were covered. She didn’t care. She had a feeling she didn’t want to see what was in there anyway.

BOOK: Swept Away
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