room, a bag in each hand. She dropped them when she saw Joe. "How long has he been like this?"
"He just started. I've been trying to make him comfortable." Elwood feigned concern.
"Did you call for Doctor Spencer?" June asked.
Elwood hadn't even thought to call for the doctor. He masked his irritation. "No, I didn't have time. I didn't want to leave my boy."
June glared at him before she focused on Joe. "Dear, can you hear me?" She rubbed his shaking arms and started singing Mary had a Little Lamb, with compassion showing in her old eyes.
Elwood wanted to leave. He had better things to do than sit with the damn kid, especially after that episode. He wanted nothing to do with cleaning Joe up either. He eyed the scotch on the mantel. He could use another drink.
When he thought it couldn't get any worse, a crowd gathered. He had to keep from pressing his fingers into Joe's arm. The kid did this stuff all the time back at the mine. Hell, he was a constant nuisance and most times Elwood left him alone to deal with the aftermath by himself.
A bystander brought a chair for June to sit on.
"Try to make him comfortable," another person said and a woman wearing a black skirt covered with an apron brought in a blanket and laid it across Joe's restless legs.
Elwood eyed the liquor cabinet.
Joe's legs stopped twitching and his body gradually relaxed. He opened his eyes, glassy and dazed.
"Joe, can you hear me?" June rubbed his hand. "Are you all right?"
The boys eyes filled with tears, and it took all the strength Elwood had in him not to slap the kid across the face.
"Could someone get the boy a glass of lemonade, please?" June asked.
"My head hurts, my head hurts," Joe slurred.
"Would you like me to go for the doctor?" A young man asked.
"He'll be right as rain in a few minutes. Happens all the time," Elwood said as he ignored June's glare and grabbed the Scotch. He downed two glasses before the woman came back with Joe's lemonade.
The crowd disbursed after wishing Joe well. Elwood couldn't stand to be near the kid any longer.
"Seein' as how the boy's come out of it, I've got business to attend to." He left June and Joe in the dining room.
He walked around the back of the hotel to check on Savage. He picked up the chewed piece of rope. Savage was gone.
"Damn mutt. I should've shot him years ago." He whistled for Savage to come. "But the bastard does come in handy now and then."
He wanted to take him along while he collected payment from certain farmers, especially that crotchety Jess Chandler. She had a way of ruffling his feathers. Her and that damn shotgun. She won't mess with Savage, that's for sure. The vicious dog was feared by most men. He whistled again.
"Savage, where in hell are you?"
He scanned the edge of the forest and the street out front. There was no sign of him and he didn't have time to wait. His palm itched for some cash and his throat needed some whiskey. He'd take care of the dog when he got back. He'd make sure the son of a bitch never ran off again.
He glanced back one more time before he headed to the saloon to round up his men. The bloody dog would feel his whip when he found him. He laughed and weaved his way through the people on the boardwalk.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Nora's boots were placed on a rock beside the river. The one she'd sat on while dipping her feet into the cool water earlier. Hands on her hips, she scrutinized the area. She'd tossed her boots to the side, close to the water's edge, but not onto the rock.
Wondering how her boots got there, she pivoted on her heel and searched the area around her. She spotted a large footprint in the mud. The Indian! She ran her fingertips along the edge of the print and thought about the stranger she'd met this morning.
He had scared her half to death, coming up behind her the way he did. Goodness, he even made her vomit. Her cheeks glowed, embarrassed by how easily she'd spooked, but it wasn't until she looked at him that she was truly
"He just started. I've been trying to make him comfortable." Elwood feigned concern.
"Did you call for Doctor Spencer?" June asked.
Elwood hadn't even thought to call for the doctor. He masked his irritation. "No, I didn't have time. I didn't want to leave my boy."
June glared at him before she focused on Joe. "Dear, can you hear me?" She rubbed his shaking arms and started singing Mary had a Little Lamb, with compassion showing in her old eyes.
Elwood wanted to leave. He had better things to do than sit with the damn kid, especially after that episode. He wanted nothing to do with cleaning Joe up either. He eyed the scotch on the mantel. He could use another drink.
When he thought it couldn't get any worse, a crowd gathered. He had to keep from pressing his fingers into Joe's arm. The kid did this stuff all the time back at the mine. Hell, he was a constant nuisance and most times Elwood left him alone to deal with the aftermath by himself.
A bystander brought a chair for June to sit on.
"Try to make him comfortable," another person said and a woman wearing a black skirt covered with an apron brought in a blanket and laid it across Joe's restless legs.
Elwood eyed the liquor cabinet.
Joe's legs stopped twitching and his body gradually relaxed. He opened his eyes, glassy and dazed.
"Joe, can you hear me?" June rubbed his hand. "Are you all right?"
The boys eyes filled with tears, and it took all the strength Elwood had in him not to slap the kid across the face.
"Could someone get the boy a glass of lemonade, please?" June asked.
"My head hurts, my head hurts," Joe slurred.
"Would you like me to go for the doctor?" A young man asked.
"He'll be right as rain in a few minutes. Happens all the time," Elwood said as he ignored June's glare and grabbed the Scotch. He downed two glasses before the woman came back with Joe's lemonade.
The crowd disbursed after wishing Joe well. Elwood couldn't stand to be near the kid any longer.
"Seein' as how the boy's come out of it, I've got business to attend to." He left June and Joe in the dining room.
He walked around the back of the hotel to check on Savage. He picked up the chewed piece of rope. Savage was gone.
"Damn mutt. I should've shot him years ago." He whistled for Savage to come. "But the bastard does come in handy now and then."
He wanted to take him along while he collected payment from certain farmers, especially that crotchety Jess Chandler. She had a way of ruffling his feathers. Her and that damn shotgun. She won't mess with Savage, that's for sure. The vicious dog was feared by most men. He whistled again.
"Savage, where in hell are you?"
He scanned the edge of the forest and the street out front. There was no sign of him and he didn't have time to wait. His palm itched for some cash and his throat needed some whiskey. He'd take care of the dog when he got back. He'd make sure the son of a bitch never ran off again.
He glanced back one more time before he headed to the saloon to round up his men. The bloody dog would feel his whip when he found him. He laughed and weaved his way through the people on the boardwalk.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Nora's boots were placed on a rock beside the river. The one she'd sat on while dipping her feet into the cool water earlier. Hands on her hips, she scrutinized the area. She'd tossed her boots to the side, close to the water's edge, but not onto the rock.
Wondering how her boots got there, she pivoted on her heel and searched the area around her. She spotted a large footprint in the mud. The Indian! She ran her fingertips along the edge of the print and thought about the stranger she'd met this morning.
He had scared her half to death, coming up behind her the way he did. Goodness, he even made her vomit. Her cheeks glowed, embarrassed by how easily she'd spooked, but it wasn't until she looked at him that she was truly
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