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She looked to Whit. He replied with a shrug, adding, “I’m sure we could find something to pad the wagon. Dovie may have some old mattresses and pallets we can borrow. Odell may have something useful, too.”

“I can’t heal if I can’t get some decent sleep,” Garrett pointed out.

She knew he was right, but she still worriedabout making him worse. “Okay, let me ask around. My wagon is at home so I’ll see if we can borrow Odell’s.”

“Thank you,” Garrett said.

It took Spring an hour to get everything ready. Dovie donated two old mattresses. Odell offered to drive and threw in a couple of hides to cover the mattresses and offer more cushioning. Once they got Garrett aboard and comfortable, she placed in a bag clean bandages, a vial of laudanum, and a tin of the salve they’d been putting on his wounds. Word spread that McCray was leaving, so by the time the wagon was ready to go, a small crowd had formed. As she mounted Cheyenne, she saw Jarvis, his secretary, and his daughter watching from the edge, but Matt wasn’t with them. In case of another attack, she was armed with her Colt and a rifle she’d borrowed from Whit. He was mounted on his stallion and would be riding along, too. She gave Odell the okay to pull off, and with her and Whit flanking the wagon, their small party headed out of town.

As they made their way down the road, Spring kept one eye on Garrett and the other on the surroundings. She doubted Ketchum or whomever had been responsible for the attack wouldbe brave enough to repeat it with her, Whit, and Odell present, but she didn’t let her guard down. Visually sweeping the road ahead, she focused on the trees and thick vegetation lining the way. Garrett had been given laudanum before they left town with the hope it would make him sleep for the duration of the journey, and so far, it was working. Each rut in the road tossed him, however, sometimes gently, other times roughly. A few deep holes shook the wagon so forcefully, winces crossed his sleeping face. She worried about him and would continue to until she had him home and in bed.

When they finally reached her cabin, getting him inside proved difficult. The laudanum had him so groggy and foggy-brained, Whit and Odell had to position him between them and wrangle him like a drunk. Once inside, they maneuvered him into the spare room and eased him down onto the big bed.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully.

Odell asked, “You sure you’re going to be able to handle this by yourself?”

“Pretty sure. How about you come check on me tomorrow, just in case.”

“Will do.”

Whit said, “Do you have everything from the wagon? The medical supplies and his clothes?”

She nodded. She’d packed up all his possession from his room at Dovie’s. Spring hadn’t the means to settle his bill but Dovie kindly told her not to worry. Garrett could pay what was owed when he was strong enough to come back to town.

After saying her goodbyes to Odell and Whit, Spring looked in on Garrett. He was beneath the blankets and quilts, and his breathing as he snored sounded less labored than before. The big feather mattress would cushion him in a way the cot hadn’t. Moving him felt right. Having him with her felt right, as well.

She checked on him on and off during the day and each time she peeked in, a sense of peace rose inside. Who knew she’d become attached to a nosy newspaper carpenter. In some ways he was nothing like the men she’d grown up around. He didn’t wear a gun belt and she’d never heard him curse. He’d cooked for her and didn’t mind washing dishes. Kindness seemed to guide his steps, and he offered that same kindness to her freely and without judgment. He’d made her wonder more than once what it might be like to not walk through life as a woman alone.

As promised, Odell dropped by the next day and brought disturbing news. Porter James’s mill caught fire last night.

Spring was shocked. “Was anyone hurt?”

“No, but the place is a total loss.”

“How is that possible? Did he leave a lamp burning?”

“No. Seems deliberately set. Whit said there was a strong smell of kerosene when he rode out to look over what was left.”

Spring thought about Jarvis and his talk of building a mill. “Could Jarvis have been involved?”

“No one knows. Dovie says he left for Cheyenne yesterday afternoon and is due back this evening, but it’s pretty coincidental, don’t you think?”

She agreed. “Poor Mr. James. Is he going to rebuild?”

“No. He says that’s it for him. Once he tidies up his affairs, he plans to go live with his daughter and her family down in Denver. I’ll miss that old codger very much.”

As would everyone else around. He’d helped expand Regan and Colt’s house last year, and did the work on fixing up the boardinghouse that Dovie managed. She thought about Colt’s unfinished hospital. Progress on it had stopped because of winter, and now? Would his small crew of workers be able to continue without his supervision? If Garrett recovered would hebe able to take over the construction when he healed up and returned from back East? She had no answers, but she was sorry Porter James would be leaving Paradise.

Odell said, “Speaking of Jarvis, he wants to meet with all the landowners on Wednesday to discuss what he’s calling an investment opportunity we’ll be interested in.”

“Are you planning to attend?”

“I am. Know thy enemy is the first rule of survival.”

“I’d like to hear what he has to say, too, but I can’t leave Garrett here alone, at least not yet.”

“Understood. I’ll be sure to let you know how it turns out. How’s your fella doing, by the way?”


Tags: Beverly Jenkins Women Who Dare Historical