Midnight Marriage Read online

  “I’d rather you stayed.” Her voice had been soft, but he saw a hard light in her eyes. “If Nick gets worse, I’ll have to take off the leg.”

  Rafe felt sick as she lifted a needle and thread. He wanted to believe that Nick would recover, but the last time he’d hoped for anything had been in New Orleans and his mother had died. He’d been a cynic ever since.

  Emily interrupted his thoughts. “He’s so young. The herbs have to work.”

  “I hope so, too.” Dr. Leaf pulled a stitch. “Where’s the dandelion? Can you start that tea?”

  “Sure.”

  Emily left to get fresh water, leaving Rafe holding Nick’s ankle as Dr. Leaf finished closing the wound. The black thread looked out of place on Nick’s skin, but her stitches were as delicate as embroidery. Rafe had seen plenty of fancy stitching—mostly on corsets—but he’d never seen work done with such care.

  She took the final stitch and snipped the thread close to the skin. After setting down the scissors, she rested one hand on Nick’s knee while Rafe continued to steady his ankle. She didn’t speak or bow her head. She didn’t do anything except close her eyes, yet somehow Rafe knew she was praying.

  Just as the sight of her legs had shot an arrow of desire to his groin, the love in her expression traveled straight to his heart. He knew it was for Nick, but that didn’t change the pressure building in his chest as he looked at her upturned lips. She had a talent and he had to admire it. She was also full of hope and he wanted to share it. He wasn’t optimistic by nature. His attitude was bad and his luck was worse. But somehow he felt her goodwill seeping into him.

  It was almost better than whiskey and a whore. Somehow he’d pay her back for what she’d done today. He didn’t have much to offer—just money and his guns—but somehow he’d find a way to thank her.

  Chapter Six

  Susanna put down the towel she’d been using to dry her hands and glanced around the kitchen. Her instruments were clean and stowed in her bag, and the chairs had been put back around the table. Rafe had gone outside, and Emily was sitting with Nick, who had been given her bedroom. The girl would be sleeping with her sisters tonight, while Susanna napped on a pallet at Nick’s bedside. For the second night in a row, she’d be short on sleep.

  “May I have a word with you?”

  She turned and saw Tim filling the door frame with his wide shoulders. Dressed in a flannel shirt and dungarees, he looked as solid as a mountain. “Of course,” she said with a smile. “This must have been quite a surprise for you.”

  “Yes, it was.” He walked across the kitchen, lifted a shawl off a hook and handed it to her. “Let’s take a walk.”

  She would have preferred her own coat, but she was too worn-out for even a small disagreement. After draping the wool over her shoulders, she followed Tim out the door. Side by side, they walked down a path that meandered through a stand of pines and emerged at the edge of a stream.

  Susanna’s heart beat faster when she saw the pretty spot. Swollen with rain, the stream rushed over the rocks and under the willow branches hanging from the bank. With the sun low in the sky, ponderosas cast fingerlike shadows that turned the daylight into a dusky-blue that was her favorite color. Close enough to touch, scrub oaks lined the meadow, giving the spot an air of privacy. Had Tim picked it on purpose? She wanted to think so. After the past twenty-four hours, she would have welcomed a strong shoulder to cry on. At the very least, she needed a friend.

  As they neared the water’s edge, she smiled at him. “It’s a pretty day.”

  “Not in my book.”

  Disappointment dropped in her belly like a stone. To hide her reaction, she crouched at the edge of the stream, dipped her hand in the water and wiped her face. She heard Tim’s boots trampling the grass, then his shadow fell across her shoulders and stretched to the opposite bank.

  “I know it’s none of my business, Susanna. But I’ve got to speak up.”

  She dried her face with her sleeve and pushed to her feet. “You’re angry that I brought Nick here.”

  “No, that’s not it. I like kids. What I don’t understand is how you could have left your house with that LaCroix character.”

  She could have defended herself with the truth, but what was the point? She would have left with Rafe if he’d asked. “I did what was right.”

  “You took a chance for someone who’s not worth it.”

  Susanna saw three shades of red. Who was Tim to stand in judgment of Nick and Rafe? And what right did he have to question her judgment? She had a call on her life. It had been honed by science and education, but the profession of healing ran in her blood. Knowing that anger would hurt her cause, she kept her voice level. “That’s not how I practice medicine.”

  “Maybe it should be,” he insisted. “You take too many chances and today proves it. What if—”

  Susanna clutched the ends of the shawl. “What if Emily had a fever and no one would come? What if Maggie had the croup and couldn’t breathe?”

  He didn’t reply.

  Fed up with his attitude, she let her voice rise. “If I hadn’t left Midas when I did, Nick might have lost his leg today.”

  Tim shook his head. “That doesn’t change the facts. You could have been hurt…or worse.”

  Susanna feared the threat of assault as much as any woman, but she refused to let dread rule her life. Wanting to end the discussion, she made her voice firm. “I appreciate your concern, but I can protect myself.”

  I did it this morning…I killed a man….

  The scent of gunpowder filled her nose. She blinked and saw Zeke Benton’s corpse. Right or wrong, death was an ugly business. She needed to talk about the shooting, but Tim wouldn’t understand. She’d have to wait until her parents returned from back East. Her father would sit her down on the porch, give her a shot of whiskey and tell her a story of his own. She’d listen and they’d talk—all night long if that’s what she wanted.

  Susanna felt tears pushing behind her eyes. After all she’d been through with the Bentons and Nick, she really needed that drink. Instead she swallowed back her upset. It caught in her throat and made her stomach hurt.

  Tim had crossed his arms over his chest and was glowering at her. “Everyone knows you carry a gun. You don’t have to remind me.”

  Why did it matter? If she’d been a man, her skill would have been admired. Even closer to tears, she touched the water with the toe of her boot. “I’d like to change the subject.”

  She’d spoken softly, but her voice still trembled. Tim must have heard it because he came up next to her. “I’m sorry, Susanna. I don’t mean to be irritable. It’s just that I’m worried sick about the Bentons. Chester’s not back, and I’ve got the girls and you to think about.”

  Did being included with his daughters make her more than a friend? She didn’t know, but his voice had softened, revealing the man who was pleasant at church and quick to help his neighbors. Reminding herself that he had good intentions, she tried to reassure him. “I’m worried, too. Let’s hope they went south.”

  “I’d like to see LaCroix disappear with them,” Tim said.

  “How long is he going to be hanging around?”

  “It depends on if I have to amputate. Nick’s not out of the woods.”

  “Good Lord.”

  “I know,” she said. “It’s awful. He’d heal quickly after the surgery, but I’m hoping it won’t be necessary.”

  Tim stared up at the pines and then looked into her eyes. “I feel bad for the kid. For his sake, I’ll put up with LaCroix but I don’t like it. The man’s a bad seed.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It’s written all over him—the guns, the blood on his coat. He even talks funny.”

  Susanna had heard the changes in Rafe’s accent, too. The nuances intrigued her. So did his way with Nick. As the chloroform had worn off, Rafe had been the one to comfort the boy. When Nick had vomited, Rafe had cleaned up the floor and his fancy boots without a wo
rd of complaint. He’d even put Nick at ease by telling him he’d puked a few times himself for less noble reasons.

  Susanna had glanced at Rafe and they had shared a smile. The memory filled her chest with a glow and a yearning she didn’t understand. Putting aside the lump in her throat, she looked at Tim. “I don’t know anything about Mr. LaCroix, but he cares about Nick. That counts for something.”

  Tim frowned at her. “If he cares about the kid, why isn’t he in school?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered. “Does it matter? Besides, Rafe’s teaching him to read. Nick told me.”

  “What else has he told you?”

  “Nothing.”

  While twisting the ends of the shawl, Susanna stared downstream where the water curved out of sight. Why was she defending Rafe? And why had she called him by his given name instead of Mr. LaCroix? She hadn’t lied to Tim, but neither had she told him the truth. She felt dishonest, as if the bounty hunter had corrupted her.

  Tim stepped to her side. “I don’t mean to be so harsh.”

  “I don’t, either,” she answered. “It’s been a hard day.”

  He gave her a crooked smile, the same one she’d seen in church when he invited her to his sister’s house. She didn’t feel a thing—not a flutter in her belly or a tightening in her chest—but she saw a good man. He was respected by his friends, thrifty when necessary and generous when it counted. They both loved children and Midas was their home. Sparks aside, she liked him.

  And most of all, she was sick and tired of feeling alone. With nothing to lose, Susanna decided to take a chance. The Santa Fe Railroad had chosen Midas for its western headquarters and had built a new depot and a fancy hotel. The entire town had been invited to a grand opening that would include a ten-piece orchestra, shipped-in flowers and platters of food. She wanted to go and she wanted to dance. All she needed was a partner.

  She couldn’t ask Tim directly, but she could drop a hint. Keeping her voice casual, she said, “Emily tells me you’re all going to the dance at the new hotel.”

  Tim shrugged. “I could do without the fuss, but my sister shamed me into it.”

  “You might have fun,” Susanna insisted.

  Ask me to go with you….

  When Tim replied by scratching his neck, Susanna held in a sigh. She’d have to be as dumb as a post to say another word. Besides, what did it matter? She often went to social functions alone. Her profession made her unique among women and she enjoyed that freedom.

  But just once, she yearned to go to a dance filled with anticipation. She wanted to wear her blue satin ball gown, sway to a waltz and melt into the moonlight as a man kissed her good-night. She also wanted to see elephants in Africa. Of the two events, the latter seemed more likely.

  “It’s getting dark,” Tim said. “We should go inside.”

  Susanna hugged herself against the chill. “You go ahead. I need a minute.”

  “All right, but be careful. That drifter could be hanging around.”

  Susanna stifled a laugh. Tim didn’t know half the story, and she had to keep it that way. “Rafe’s harmless,” she said. “Now go say good-night to your girls.”

  Harmless?

  Rafe had a good mind to push his way through the bushes and show her just how harmless he was. No man wanted to be called harmless, but even as his jaw tensed, he knew he was being stupid. The lady doctor had kept the roughness of their first meeting to herself, and even more, she’d called him Rafe.

  Overhearing their conversation had been unexpected. Earlier, he’d wandered to the stream in search of a place to clean up. He’d just finished shaving and had put on a clean shirt when he heard them approaching. A gentleman would have slipped away unnoticed, but Rafe had never benefited from being polite. He had needed to know what Dr. Leaf would say to Duke, so he’d stayed behind the hedge.

  Now he couldn’t leave without revealing his eavesdropping. He also wanted to down the whiskey in his pewter flask. Then there was the matter of why Dr. Leaf was lingering by the stream. Maybe she wanted to wash up. He could imagine her opening her dress and rinsing her throat. Maybe she’d wade into the water in nothing but her chemise…or maybe nothing at all. Harmless old Rafe wasn’t above sneaking a peek.

  He also knew how good it felt to get clean and had bathed in the stream himself. Without the whiskers and the dirt, he looked respectable, except for the hair that he wore long on purpose. It was a tool of his trade. With a few swipes of his knife, he could change from “that man with the ponytail” into a faceless drifter.

  But he’d never change on the inside. He was itching for a look at the lady doctor and wanted Duke to leave.

  “All right,” the rancher said. “But be careful.”

  Silence.

  “Susanna? Are you all right?”

  Curiosity was eating Rafe alive, but he couldn’t see through the branches. Was she nodding? Had Duke wised up and pulled her into his arms? Any fool could see that she’d been through hell today. Men forgot their misery by getting drunk. So did some of the women he knew, but kissing was even better.

  Dr. Leaf took a deep breath. “I’m fine. Now go on home.”

  “Only if you’re sure.”

  “I am.”

  The thud of the rancher’s boots made Rafe mad enough to spit. How could he leave her alone? She had tried to hide it, but her voice had a quaver in it. As for that fancy dance, Duke had to be stone deaf to miss the hint she’d dropped.

  Spying on Dr. Leaf no longer appealed to Rafe, but neither did it seem right to make his presence known. She’d be angry that he’d eavesdropped and embarrassed by what he’d heard. It seemed both smart and kind to stay put until she left.

  But then he heard a whimper…a sniff…and finally a sob.

  Rafe knew that her tears weren’t born of weakness. Men got mad and broke things. Women cried and watered the soul. Seeds of hope would grow inside her and reach for the sun. Nonetheless, he wanted to throttle Timothy Duke. If the rancher had possessed a lick of charm, he would have pulled the lady into his arms and kissed the daylights out of her. He’d have chased away the darkness with a touch of fire, but instead the fool had left her to cry alone.

  Rafe thought about pushing through the hedge himself, but he doubted she’d appreciate his company. Instead he wished her well from afar. He even closed his eyes for her, a silent hope for good things. But then she heaved a sigh.

  “I am such a fool,” she said to the trees.

  Like hell, he thought. She was human and needed a friend. Or at least someone to yell at. Anger cured sadness almost as well as whiskey, and Rafe could offer both.

  “Hey, Doc,” he called. “Want a drink? You sound like you need one.”

  A startled gasp reached his ears.

  “I don’t know what you see in that fool,” he added. “He looks like a buffalo.”

  Rafe had just pulled the flask from his pocket when the branches parted and Dr. Leaf emerged on his side of the hedge. Teary or not, the woman was hopping mad.

  “How dare you eavesdrop on me!”

  “It’s a good thing I did. Someone needs to set you straight on men like Duke.” It dawned on Rafe that he’d found a way to pay her back for helping Nick. He considered pushing to his feet but changed his mind. Height gave a man an advantage, but he’d already one-upped her.

  He uncorked the flask and held it out to her. “Drink up.”

  She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  “Are you sure?” Rafe took a swallow and made a show of enjoying it. It wasn’t often that he got to be an expert, and he decided to play it to the hilt. After wiping his mouth, he said, “Forget about Duke. He’s not right for you.”

  She glared at him. “You should have made your presence known.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t. You’d still be mooning over an idiot.”

  “I’m not mooning over anyone.”

  She was telling the truth. Her tears had sprung from a deeper place—the part of her that wo
rried about Nick and was sickened by men like Zeke Benton. Later he’d ask her about Zeke, but he wasn’t done talking about the buffalo.

  “Maybe I should have a talk with old Tim. Dancing’s not that bad once a man figures it out.”

  “Don’t you dare—”

  “It’s kind of nice. You get to hold a woman close and feel how she moves. I like it.”

  Dr. Leaf looked ready to eat him alive. “I don’t want to hear about you and dancing.”

  “Then why are you still here?”

  Before he could annoy her more, she pivoted toward the stream, giving him a view of her shoulders sagging beneath the shawl. Earlier she’d pinned up her braid. Now that halo was drooping and begging to be undone. If she’d been like his usual women, he’d have whispered sweet things and led her upstairs. He’d have kissed her until she didn’t care about anything but the moment. Instead he took another sip of whiskey and felt lonely for them both.

  As the whiskey sloshed to his belly, she turned around and gave him a rueful smile. “I made a fool of myself, didn’t I?”

  “No, Duke did.” Rafe puffed out his chest and mimicked the rancher’s baritone. “I could do without the fuss.”

  Dr. Leaf sealed her lips, but her eyes shimmered with laughter. The look told Rafe everything he needed to know about her feelings for Timothy Duke. She liked him, but she wasn’t in love. Rafe knew from experience that people got cozy for all sorts of reasons, and he suspected he knew the cause of Dr. Leaf’s need. She’d been through hell today and needed comfort.

  There weren’t many things Rafe could do for her, but offering a strong shoulder was one of them. He slid to the side of the rock. “Sit down, Doc. We need to talk.”

  She shook her head. “This is none of your business.”

  “It’s not about Duke.”

  “Then what?”

  “It’s about Zeke Benton.”

  Her eyes filled with relief and her mouth softened into a faint smile. “I lied,” she said. “I could really use that drink.”

  Rafe patted the spot next to him. “There’s room for two.”