The Fire in Ember - DiAnn Mills [55]
“If you’re living at the hotel, I’ll have to bring Pa’s fiddle for you to play and sing.”
She glanced back from the doorway, with sadness clearly spreading over her face. “You’re a good man, John Timmons.”
Once the door closed, John lowered the wick until the light disappeared. Weariness slammed against his eyelids. The past two days had kept him in the saddle and craving a bed. For sure he’d sleep past dawn and give his arm a chance to heal. He yawned, feeling his whole body give in to sleep.
Bert … she hadn’t wanted to be here, but Bess had given her the food to deliver. Yet she’d had a rough time saying good-bye tonight and mustering the words to say thanks for a deed she’d already thanked him for.
John’s eyes flew open in the darkness. Bert had been telling him good-bye, not good night. His pint-size imp planned to light out of here. He threw back the thin quilt covering him and reached for his britches in the dark.
Doggone her hide. That woman was more trouble than a pack of coyotes in a chicken house. He fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and did a slow job of putting on his boots with one hand. What was she running from? Obviously she hadn’t figured out he could help her—wanted to help her. This time when he found her, he’d make sure she told him the truth. Every word of it.
Snatching up his rifle, he quietly opened the door. Doc Slader sat in a chair in the parlor reading a thick-bound book. Most likely something about medicine. His wife claimed he read those books more than the Bible. Doc glanced up; his spectacles perched on his nose like a bird on a fence post.
“John Timmons, where are you going?”
Caught. “Sorry, Doc. A matter has come to my attention, and I need to handle it.”
“It can wait till morning.”
John wasn’t one of his nine boys. “No, it won’t.”
Doc wagged a finger at him. “Go on then. But when you take to bleeding again, you’re going to get a lecture so bad that you’ll wish I’d taken you behind the woodshed.”
“Yes sir.”
“I hope the little lady is worth the delay in your arm healing.”
“I — ”
Doc waved him away. “As I said, you and Parker are cut from the same tough piece of leather. Get your courtin’ done and get back here, or I’m coming down to Bess’s after you.”
Courtin'. He was beginning to despise that word.
CHAPTER 24
Mr. Oberlander.” Leah sized up the lines fanning from the man’s eyes, and fear rippled through her heart. “Won’t you come in?”
“Evening, Leah.” He stepped inside, hat in hand. “Are the other boys here?”
“Only Davis. What’s wrong?” She took a breath to gain control. “Please, sit down.” She motioned to a chair at the table. “This is about John, isn’t it?”
“Yes ma’am. That’s why I’m here. But he’s going to be all right.”
She touched her chest as though she could slow her heart’s incessant beating. “I’ve had a bad feeling all day.”
“I’m sure it’s difficult having him work as a deputy during hard times. One of my hands who rode with John and Marshal Culpepper returned a bit ago, and I thought you should be aware of what happened.”
She trembled. “Tell me, Victor. All I can think about is when Frank was shot.”
“The posse found Leon Wilson in an old cabin. From what my ranch hand said, there were nine men who surrounded the place. John attempted to go in after Leon, but he was shot in the arm — just a flesh wound. Nothing serious.” Victor touched her shoulders. “He’s all right. Doc Slader treated him and thought it best for John to spend the night at his home. Mind you, Miss Leah, your son wanted to ride back tonight, but Doc wanted to keep an eye on him.”
Leah nodded, biting into her lower lip to keep from crying. “Thank God, he’s all right.”
“John’s a strong young man. My hand said he was attempting to bring Leon in for questioning without using force.”
She sniffed. “My son, the hero.”
“Yes ma’am.” Victor looked around. “Where are the other boys?”
“Out checking on the cattle. I’ve been expecting them.