Heart of a Texan (2 page)

The lying, backstabbing, barn-burning, livestock-killing traitor.
Nate Dolan had been the only rancher Roberta thought had some sympathy for her father. He’d advised him against building the dam, against trying to farm in such dry country, and against making enemies of some of the most powerful men in the county, but he’d defended her father’s right to do what he wanted with his land, no matter how stupid he thought it. She might have been able to admire Nate if he hadn’t been so eaten up with hatred.

“No!” It came out as a cry of anguish. How could the doctor even think of bringing one of the attackers into her house? It was too much to ask of even the most forgiving woman. “I won’t have him in my home.”

“Can’t you take him to town?” the sheriff asked.

“He’s hurt too badly to make the trip. It’s more than a mile to town, and the ruts are deep enough to break an axle.”

“I don’t care if he dies.” That wasn’t really how she felt, but she couldn’t face the idea of offering shelter to one of the men who helped kill her father. How could anyone expect it of her?

“Well I care, young woman,” the doctor stated. “I’ve seen too many men die, and I don’t intend to see this one follow the rest if I can help it. I’ll put him in a bed if you have one. I’ll put him on the floor if you don’t, but he’s going to stay in this house until he’s well enough to be moved. Then, if you can prove he’s one of the men who killed your father, the sheriff can put him in jail.”

“There are only two beds in the house, and my father is lying in one of them.”

“We can take your father’s body into town,” the sheriff offered.

For a moment she was speechless with shock and rage. How could anyone think she would allow her father’s body to be taken away so this man could have his bed? It was a travesty, a sacrilege, an unimaginable affront. “Don’t you touch my father’s body.”

“He must be prepared for burial. Wouldn’t it be better to do it now?”

Roberta recognized the voice of Mrs. Pender, the woman who’d spoken to her earlier. “How can you ask me to put
that
man
in my father’s bed?”

“I’m not. I’m just thinking of your father.”

“It’s the only practical solution,” the sheriff said.

“I don’t care if it’s the
only
solution. I won’t have that man in my house.” She had barely launched into a list of reasons why it was inhuman to ask this of her when four men carrying Nate Dolan walked through the doorway. “Where do we put him?”

“Through there,” the sheriff directed.

Roberta moved to position herself in front of her father’s door and dare anyone to enter, but she could tell from the sheriff’s attitude that he wouldn’t hesitate to remove her forcibly. There didn’t seem to be anyone to whom she could appeal for support. This was cow country, and people had little sympathy for her father’s stand.

“Can’t you take him somewhere else?” Boone Riggins asked the doctor.

“No.” His answer was flat and unequivocal.

It looked like she didn’t have much choice, but she didn’t intend to have anything to do with Nate Dolan. Let the doctor see to him. “Who’s going to feed him and look after him?”

“You are. Did you expect anyone else?”

Roberta couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I’m not touching him. In fact, I wish he were dead.”

The sheriff ignored her. “We’ve got to move her father’s body first,” he said to the men carrying Nate.

Roberta wanted to scream, shout, threaten violence, but no one showed any likelihood of listening. Moments later, several men emerged from her father’s bedroom with his body.

“We’ll take him to the doctor’s office,” the sheriff told her. “He can stay there until you’ve made the funeral arrangements.”

Seeing her father carried out almost caused her to break down again. She wanted to wipe the blood from his lips, straighten his clothes, put slippers on his bare feet. Allowing him to be carried into town in such a state felt like the worst kind of disrespect. She ran to his bedroom and returned with his pillow and the spread from his bed. “Cover him. I don’t want people to see him like that.”

“Take my buckboard,” Boone Riggins offered.

Roberta followed as they carried her father outside and laid him in Boone’s buckboard. She put the pillow under his head. Not until his body was positioned properly did she allow them to cover him with the spread.

“Don’t drive too fast,” she directed the driver. “I don’t want him bounced all the way.” She turned to Sheriff Kelly. “I’ll go into town later today. I want the funeral to be tomorrow.”

“I’ll make the arrangements.”

There didn’t seem to be anything more to say. As she watched the buckboard leave, she experienced a slight thread of resentment that her father was leaving the farm while she was condemned to stay. She told herself that was a horrible way to feel. She’d have been happy to stay in Texas for the rest of her life if it meant her father could still be alive.

“You’ve got to move into town. I’ll hire someone to look after Dolan.”

She had forgotten Boone had followed her outside. She forced herself to think. “I’ve got to stay here.”

“Why? The place has been destroyed.”

“Not the house.”

“You can’t fix the damage to your fields, and there’s not enough left of the barn to keep. Half your pigs have been shot, the cows and mules have escaped, and there isn’t a chicken in sight.”

“Will you ask if someone in town would take the pigs that were killed? It seems a shame to let that meat go to waste.”

“Roberta, stop thinking about the pigs and think of yourself. You can’t stay here.”

“If you think I’m letting Nate Dolan stay in my house without me, you’re out of your mind. The ranchers keep trying to run us out, and I won’t let them win.”

“You can’t make me believe you want to take care of Dolan. If he dies, people will wonder if you killed him.”

Nate Dolan’s presence wasn’t the only reason Roberta wouldn’t leave. She couldn’t allow Boone to hire someone to take care of Nate any more than she could allow him to pay for her to stay in town. Doing so would encourage him to think her feelings for him were stronger than they were. She had her father’s aversion to incurring a debt she couldn’t pay and her own aversion to raising hopes she couldn’t fulfill.

“They’d be right. I think I’m the one who shot him.”

Boone looked startled. “You didn’t say anything about shooting someone.”

“I forgot. It was just after my father had been shot. I heard someone ride up. I didn’t know who it was. I was crying so hard I could hardly see, but I do remember a blue shirt.”

“Don’t say anything,” Boone advised. “Since he was one of the attackers, no one will care who shot him.”

But Roberta did. As much as she hated what the ranchers had done, she couldn’t accept that she might have killed a man. She wasn’t a murderer. She didn’t believe in violence. “I need to talk to the doctor. I have to know what to do.”

“Let me stay here with you.”

“You know that’s impossible. Think of the gossip.”

“You’re already staying alone with a man.”

“One who’s unconscious. I don’t think people will start any rumors over that.” She noticed the sky was getting lighter. “It’ll soon be time to open your restaurant. People must have their breakfast.” Boone was a nice man who owned the most successful restaurant and most popular saloon in town. No woman in her right mind would have turned him down, yet Roberta had. She couldn’t marry a Texan when she intended to return to Virginia as soon as possible.

“I’ll check on you tonight.”

“That’s not necessary.” She turned away before he could attempt to convince her she was necessary to his happiness. Unfortunately, he wasn’t necessary for hers.

She was reluctant to enter the house, but she had never been one to avoid bad news or difficult decisions. She was stuck with Nate Dolan, so she wanted to know how to make him well as quickly as she could. No one Boone could hire would look after him as conscientiously as she because she wanted him out of her house as soon as possible.

She thought everyone had gone until she heard the doctor talking to someone. When she reached the bedroom, the doctor was bending over Nate’s body. He looked up when she stepped into the room.

“Glad you’re back. Mrs. Pender gets queasy at the sight of blood. I need you to help me extract the bullet.”

“What do you want me to do?” She hadn’t thought the sight of blood bothered her, but seeing it smeared over Nate’s chest made her stomach queasy. She resolutely fought the feeling. She expected she’d see more blood before she saw the last of Nate Dolan.

She took the pan of water Mrs. Pender had been holding, dipped a cloth in it, and started to clean the blood from Nate’s chest. A little oozed out of the wound, but it didn’t take long before he was clean.

Much against her will, she became aware of him in a way that was unsettling. Nate’s chest was completely smooth except for a little hair around his nipples, and a trail that disappeared at his waist. His broad shoulders tapered down to slim hips. Even in repose, it was easy to see the muscles that enabled him to wrestle full-grown steers to the ground. Like every Texas cowman, his face and neck were deeply tanned, but his chest was practically white. Nate wasn’t wearing any long underwear. In fact, he wasn’t wearing anything. The doctor had undressed him while she was gone.

Knowing she was in the room with a naked man was something of a shock. It didn’t matter that he was unconscious. He was naked, he was a man, and he was in her house. He wasn’t her father, her husband, her brother, or a relative. He was a stranger, a man she knew mostly by reputation. She doubted the doctor would dress him before he left.

“Pay attention.”

The doctor’s probing had caused Nate’s wound to start bleeding again.

“That’s better,” the doctor said when she’d wiped away the blood. “You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”

“No.”

“Then why are you looking so strange?”

“She’s been through a terrible experience.” Roberta had forgotten Mrs. Pender was still in the room. “I’m surprised she’s still on her feet.”

“I’m not. She’s stronger than she looks. Ah! I think I found it.” Seconds later the doctor extracted a bullet that he held up. He squinted at the blood-covered bit of gray metal. “That didn’t come from a rifle. He was shot with a pistol.”

Roberta’s stomach clinched. She
had
shot Nate.

“He ought to be okay now,” the doctor said, “but you’ll have to watch him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he develops a fever. He could have gotten a concussion when he fell out of the saddle.”

“What do you do for a concussion?” Roberta asked.

“You keep him on his feet and awake until you’re sure he’s okay.”

“He’s unconscious and unable to move.”

“Then you’d better hope he doesn’t have a concussion. We don’t need the biggest rancher in the area suffering from brain damage.”

Roberta felt faint. “What can I do?”

“Watch him. If he wakes up, send someone to let me know.”

“I’m the only one here.”

The doctor looked thoughtful. “I guess you are. Well, take your father’s shotgun and fire away. After today’s ruckus, that ought to bring someone from town, and they can fetch me.”

She was so infuriated that he would refer to the murderous attack as
today’s ruckus
she nearly said something rude. Remembering her father was dead was almost like hearing it for the first time. It was still hard to believe only a few hours ago her father had kissed her good night and gone off to bed with plans to pick beans and tomatoes early the next morning. Boone had promised to buy all the vegetables her father produced. Roberta didn’t know if he needed that much produce, or whether he was trying to buy her affection.

“What do I feed him? When do I feed him?”

“Don’t feed him anything until he wakes up, or you’ll probably drown him. After that, a clear broth for a day or two. Vegetable broth will do, but beef or chicken would be better.”

“I don’t have any beef, and the chickens were scattered.”

“I’ll make some broth,” Mrs. Pender offered.

“Once everybody hears he’s here, you’ll probably have every unmarried woman in town offering food,” the doctor said. “He’s got to be one of the most eligible bachelors in Texas.”

“I would expect her to receive offers of food from
every
woman, unmarried or not.” Mrs. Pender’s tone was less than respectful. “The citizens of Slender Creek are always quick to help anyone in need or distress.”

“So they are.” The doctor wasn’t quailed by Mrs. Pender’s reprimand. “Roberta will need it since some of Slender Creek’s citizens are responsible for her present situation.”

“It couldn’t have been anyone in town, I’m sure,” Mrs. Pender stated with certitude. “Now unless you need me,” she said to Roberta, “I’ll be going. My men would starve if I weren’t there to feed them.”

“Remarkable woman,” the doctor said after Mrs. Pender had left. “Very remarkable. I’m just glad she’s not my wife.”

Dr. Danforth was a widower. Much to the distress of several hopeful women, he had shown no interest in changing his marital state. He said his patients were as much of a family as he wanted.

“How long do you think he’ll be here?” Roberta asked as the doctor was putting the last touches on the bandage.

“A week if things go well. Maybe two if they don’t.”

“What do you mean—
if
things
don’t go well
?”

“Fever or infection, but he looks like the kind of healthy young man who will bounce back quickly if you take good care of him. If he comes through the next day okay, you ought to be able to relax.”

“How can I relax with a sick man in my house for at least a week?”

The doctor looked at Nate’s unmoving body. “I don’t think he’ll be getting in your way.”

“He’s in my way just by being here.”

“Well, he can’t be moved just yet, so you’ll have to get used to it. Now I have to go. Mrs. Millican’s baby has jaundice, and Mrs. Grady’s third boy broke his arm…
again.
Good thing I never had a hankering to be a rich man. This town would be in a mess of trouble if I left.” The doctor gathered his equipment, stuffed everything into one oversized bag, and walked out the door. “At least your patient is young and handsome,” he called over his shoulder. “Be glad it’s not old Mr. Grunwald. I can’t find a nurse who can last half a day without wanting to suffocate him.”