Read Online An Outlaw's Christmas by Linda Lael Miller - Free Book Online
Authors: Linda Lael Miller
Ads: Link
secured with rope.
“He was up and around earlier,” Piper replied, staring at the bedstead and wondering whether Clay planned to leave it at the schoolhouse for her or use it to transport Sawyer to the ranch, “but he’s resting at the moment.”
“Up and around?” Clay echoed, pleased. He climbed off the strange conveyance and approached through the knee-deep but already-melting snow. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Sawyer always had more gumption than good sense.”
“He’s wanting his trunk from the depot,” Piper said, as Clay reached her and she stepped back so they could both go inside, where it was warmer.
“I figured as much,” Clay told her, taking off his hat and hanging it from a peg near the door. He’d stomped most of the snow off his boots out on the porch. “Picked it up before I came here.”
Sawyer, who must have heard the commotion, appeared in the doorway to Piper’s room, looking rumpled and grim. He obviously needed more laudanum, and Piper made up her mind to fetch it and supervise the dosage this time, make sure he didn’t guzzle the stuff down again.
“You ready to make the trip out to our place?” Clay asked his cousin, looking doubtful even as he spoke. “I can haul you out there today if you want to go, and in style, too, like Caesar reclining on Cleopatra’s barge.”
Piper felt a pang of sadness at the thought of Sawyer’s leaving the schoolhouse, which was just plain silly, because she ought to be relieved instead. She really ought to be relieved.
Sawyer frowned, puzzlement personified. “Caesar? Cleopatra’s barge? What the devil are you yammering on about?”
“Either way, I came prepared,” was all the answer Clay gave. He was still grinning, proud of his resourcefulness, and he waxed unusually loquacious, for him. “I brought along a kind of sleigh I rigged up last year, out of some old boards—normally use it to haul feed out to the cattle on the range when the wagons can’t get through—even brought a bed along, in case you were ready to head out to the ranch sooner than expected. There’s hay and some grain for your gelding, too, if you’d rather stay put a while longer. In that case, I’ll set the bedstead up for Piper, so she won’t have to sleep on the floor until you’re out of her hair.”
Piper blinked.
“You slept on the floor?” Sawyer asked, practically glowering at her, as though accusing her of some unconscionable perfidy.
“Where did you think she was sleeping?” Clay inquired good-naturedly. “This is a one-room schoolhouse, Sawyer, not a big-city hospital or a grand hotel.”
“I cannot have a bed in my schoolroom,” Piper put in hastily, though neither man seemed to be listening.
“I’ll go back with you,” Sawyer said to Clay, though when he took a step, he winced and swayed on his feet so that his cousin immediately stepped forward and took him by the arms, lest he collapse.
Sawyer flinched and his face drained of color.
Chagrined, Clay loosened his grip, though he didn’t dare let go completely. “I don’t believe you’re ready quite yet,” he said reasonably.
“My .45,” Sawyer said, looking dazed. “She—took it.”
“Never mind that,” Clay told him. “Right now, we’ve got to get you back to bed.”
Sawyer allowed himself to be turned around and led in the other direction, most likely because he didn’t have much choice in the matter. “My pistol, ” he insisted.
Piper glanced toward the cloakroom, where she’d hidden the weapon, climbing onto the food box to push it to the back of a wide, high shelf. She wanted that dreadful thing out of sight and out of reach, so none of her students would stumble upon it, once they returned to school, and bring about a tragedy.
For all that, something in Sawyer’s tone bothered her. Was he afraid the man who had shot him would return, make another attempt on his life and, this time, succeed in killing him?
Maybe, she concluded, but the fact
“He was up and around earlier,” Piper replied, staring at the bedstead and wondering whether Clay planned to leave it at the schoolhouse for her or use it to transport Sawyer to the ranch, “but he’s resting at the moment.”
“Up and around?” Clay echoed, pleased. He climbed off the strange conveyance and approached through the knee-deep but already-melting snow. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Sawyer always had more gumption than good sense.”
“He’s wanting his trunk from the depot,” Piper said, as Clay reached her and she stepped back so they could both go inside, where it was warmer.
“I figured as much,” Clay told her, taking off his hat and hanging it from a peg near the door. He’d stomped most of the snow off his boots out on the porch. “Picked it up before I came here.”
Sawyer, who must have heard the commotion, appeared in the doorway to Piper’s room, looking rumpled and grim. He obviously needed more laudanum, and Piper made up her mind to fetch it and supervise the dosage this time, make sure he didn’t guzzle the stuff down again.
“You ready to make the trip out to our place?” Clay asked his cousin, looking doubtful even as he spoke. “I can haul you out there today if you want to go, and in style, too, like Caesar reclining on Cleopatra’s barge.”
Piper felt a pang of sadness at the thought of Sawyer’s leaving the schoolhouse, which was just plain silly, because she ought to be relieved instead. She really ought to be relieved.
Sawyer frowned, puzzlement personified. “Caesar? Cleopatra’s barge? What the devil are you yammering on about?”
“Either way, I came prepared,” was all the answer Clay gave. He was still grinning, proud of his resourcefulness, and he waxed unusually loquacious, for him. “I brought along a kind of sleigh I rigged up last year, out of some old boards—normally use it to haul feed out to the cattle on the range when the wagons can’t get through—even brought a bed along, in case you were ready to head out to the ranch sooner than expected. There’s hay and some grain for your gelding, too, if you’d rather stay put a while longer. In that case, I’ll set the bedstead up for Piper, so she won’t have to sleep on the floor until you’re out of her hair.”
Piper blinked.
“You slept on the floor?” Sawyer asked, practically glowering at her, as though accusing her of some unconscionable perfidy.
“Where did you think she was sleeping?” Clay inquired good-naturedly. “This is a one-room schoolhouse, Sawyer, not a big-city hospital or a grand hotel.”
“I cannot have a bed in my schoolroom,” Piper put in hastily, though neither man seemed to be listening.
“I’ll go back with you,” Sawyer said to Clay, though when he took a step, he winced and swayed on his feet so that his cousin immediately stepped forward and took him by the arms, lest he collapse.
Sawyer flinched and his face drained of color.
Chagrined, Clay loosened his grip, though he didn’t dare let go completely. “I don’t believe you’re ready quite yet,” he said reasonably.
“My .45,” Sawyer said, looking dazed. “She—took it.”
“Never mind that,” Clay told him. “Right now, we’ve got to get you back to bed.”
Sawyer allowed himself to be turned around and led in the other direction, most likely because he didn’t have much choice in the matter. “My pistol, ” he insisted.
Piper glanced toward the cloakroom, where she’d hidden the weapon, climbing onto the food box to push it to the back of a wide, high shelf. She wanted that dreadful thing out of sight and out of reach, so none of her students would stumble upon it, once they returned to school, and bring about a tragedy.
For all that, something in Sawyer’s tone bothered her. Was he afraid the man who had shot him would return, make another attempt on his life and, this time, succeed in killing him?
Maybe, she concluded, but the fact
Similar Books
