Dorothy Clark - Gold Rush Baby

The hurt in Frankie’s voice tugged at her heart. Viola set aside the fear that had surged at Frankie’s mention of the kidnapper’s partner, and searched for some sort of balm she could offer—remembered that awful moment when she saw the blood spreading across Thomas Stone’s shirt. “Being a deputy can be dangerous, Frankie. Look at what happened to Mr. Stone. Perhaps the sheriff is afraid you will be harmed in a gun battle, or—”

“Ha! I can outshoot any man.” Frankie’s blue eyes flashed. “Our pa took us girls hunting as soon as we were strong enough to heft a rifle. And he taught us to use pistols, too. Lucy and Margie are good shots, but I’m the best. I don’t miss. And the sheriff knows it. I challenged him to a shooting contest tomorrow, just to show him. Figure that ought to make him look favorable on me as a deputy.”

That would be amusing, if she weren’t envious. Viola caught Goldie’s baby hand before she could grab her hair, kissed its pudgy palm. “I wish I knew how to use a gun. Things would have been much different.” She bit off the bitter words, afraid she had revealed more than she intended.

Frankie grinned. “That would have surprised the kidnapper for sure.” Her face lit up. “I could teach you if you want. I got time. No reason for me to be home, with Lucy and Margie gone.”

Viola stared, shocked by the offer, then intrigued. She would never have to be afraid again. Not of Dengler and his thugs, the kidnapper’s partner, any of her male customers or any other man. She would be able to protect herself. She curved her lips in what she was afraid was a rather grim smile. “I would like that, Frankie. When Mr. Stone is recovered, I shall buy a pistol and you can teach me how to use it.”

“Good. You let me know when. Now I’ll go down to the smithy and check with Duncan. If he’s got a couple good, sturdy locks in stock, I’ll come back and put them on your doors tonight.” Frankie opened the door, paused. “If not, I’ll have him make you some. It won’t take him long, if he’s not busy. And if he is, I’ll see to it he gets to them fast as possible.”

Viola nodded. “Thank you, Frankie. You have relieved my mind a good deal.” More than you can possibly know. “Tell Mr. MacDougal to put the locks on account. I will stop by and pay him as soon as Mr. Stone is well enough for me to leave him.” She closed the door, lifted Goldie into the air and smiled up at her. “There, sweetie. Now you will be safe…and so will I.” She lowered the laughing baby to her chest, held her close and hurried to the bedroom to check on Thomas Stone.

“How are you feeling, Thomas?” Jacob Calloway set his black bag down, then pulled back the covers. “That light-headedness and nausea any better?”

“Somewhat. It’s not a problem so long as I don’t try to…lift my head.” Warm fingers circled his wrist. Thomas slid his gaze to the watch in the doctor’s other hand, waited. The watch was tucked back in a vest pocket with no information offered. “Well?”

“Steadier and stronger. It should be back to normal soon, as long as you follow my instructions and drink plenty of water and take broth often.”

“And I’ll be able to get out of this bed then?”

“It’s going to be a few days, Thomas. Aside from the weakness due to your loss of blood, you need to limit movement and give this wound time to begin to heal. I put in some deep sutures to stop the bleeding, but only a few loose ones at the surface. You’ll have quite a scar, but any infection will be able to ooze out.” Jacob leaned down, peered closely at the bandage on his shoulder. “Hmm, we’ve got some seepage here. I’ll cleanse this and apply a new bandage.” He turned his attention to removing the bandage.

Thomas sucked in a slow breath, gathered his strength to talk against the pain. “Look, Jacob, I respect your skill, but—”

“No buts, Thomas.” Jacob delved into his bag, splashed liquid from a bottle onto a clean white cloth. “Hold still now.”

The cloth touched his shoulder, cool and moist. And then the burning started. He gritted his teeth, willed himself not to flinch away.

“There, that’s got it. Now for the bandage…” Soft cloth covered his wound. Jacob’s fingers brushed against his sore flesh, secured the bandage in place. “You will stay flat on your back in that bed until I say you can move, Thomas. Unless you want to rip that wound open and make everything worse. Now, let’s take care of your personal needs, then I will go back to the clinic. I’ll come check on you again tonight.”

A few more days until he could get out of this bed. And then, how long before he could go home to the solitude of his hut? How long must he be here with the baby? And with Viola? The woman pulled at his emotions in a way he had never experienced before, not even with Louise. She was eye-catchingly beautiful it was true. But it was something else. Something he couldn’t put a name to. But it was there all the same. When he’d first looked into her eyes he’d felt that sudden, sure connection. And it hadn’t gone away. It had gotten stronger.

Thomas pulled in more air, set his jaw and stared at the chimney stones against the opposite wall. It didn’t matter how long he stayed, or how strong the draw he felt toward Viola Goddard. He had made a vow to never again subject a wife to the primitive living conditions necessary to his missionary work with the Tlingits and the men swarming up the Chilkoot Trail to the gold fields. He intended to keep that vow. Being the cause of Louise’s and Susie’s deaths was enough guilt and regret to carry.

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