Chapter 19 #3
“He sent me with his medical bag. Got it down there.” He motioned toward the stairs with his hat. “We’re to fill up some medicine bottles and fetch a surgery box.”
Sheila had already gone through the room her father used for surgery and consulting. A large cabinet contained bottles of ointments and medicines and supplies. She’d also seen where he kept his box of surgical instruments.
Wendell pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.
“I have a list of what Doc wants right here, made out in his own hand.” He held it so that she could see the writing. “And I don’t mean to push you none, but he said to be quick about fetching these things, cuz my wife could die.”
Even at a glance, Sheila recognized her father’s handwriting from his letters. She had little reason to doubt the man any longer.
The most important news to her, however, was that her father was alive. She lowered the weapon and decocked the hammers.
Relief swept through her so sharply it nearly buckled her knees. Alive. Whatever else these men were, whatever fear they carried into the house, her father was alive.
“Have you found the items that my father needs?”
“We just found his medical room when Dodger got distracted and come barging up here.” He directed a hopeful glance at her. “You being the doctor’s daughter, we could surely use your help, miss.”
Not wanting to leave the shotgun up here, she carried it with her. Wendell stood aside and allowed her to go in front of him downstairs.
In the large room her father used as a surgery and for consultations, she once again felt her stomach clench as Dodger turned and eyed her. He looked at Wendell and then back at her. The disrespectful smirk had returned to his face.
Her father’s medical bag sat open on a worktable. It was the same one he’d carried since she was only a child. The gold lettering of his embossed initials had long faded, but she could still read them clearly.
“Doc said to fill up them bottles inside his bag,” Wendell told her, handing her the list. “Would you mind doing the honors, miss? My eyesight ain’t so good, and I don’t trust this one to do it right.” He jerked a thumb at Dodger.
She couldn’t hold on to the shotgun and do what he asked. Reluctantly, she went over and placed the weapon in the rack where she’d gotten it earlier.
Keeping the worktable between her and Dodger, she took out the empty bottles and examined them. They were all clearly marked in her father’s hand.
The much larger jars were lined up in the cabinet like soldiers on parade. The two men stood aside and watched while Sheila went back and forth, refilling the smaller jars per the list.
“What else did my father ask for?”
“A box of surgical tools.”
Sheila went to another cabinet, took out a wooden case, and brought it back to the table. The case contained a number of instruments, an array of curved needles and cat gut used for stitching wounds. “Everything should be in here.”
She closed the case and the medical bag.
“Before you leave, Mr. Wendell, I’d like you to give me more information as to where your cabin is exactly and when I should expect my father back. I’ve been quite worried about him, as have a number of other people in town.”
“Sure enough, miss,” Wendell replied with a thoughtful nod.
“But…rather than try to fill your head with directions that wouldn’t make no sense whatsoever, I reckon it might be a very good thing if you were to come with us.
You can see how your father is doing yourself, and provide him with company for his ride back. ”
“Come with you?” she asked, surprised by the offer.
She shot a glance at Dodger. He appeared to be in complete agreement, and her stomach sank at the way he was running his eyes over her.
“I don’t think that will be necessary. Thank you for the offer, but I’ll wait for my father here.”
Wendell had moved closer to her, and his dark eyes had lost their friendly look. “That weren’t an offer, miss. You’re coming along.”
In one quick movement, he took hold of her arm and clapped a hand over her mouth.
Sheila fought her assailants, but they were too strong for her. A moment later, she stood with her hands tied tightly in front of her.
Her fear was wild now, but beneath it something colder and clearer began to take shape. She would remember everything. Their names. Their faces. The direction they traveled. Whatever mistake they made, she would seize it.
“I’m a-gonna take my hand off your mouth now, miss. But if you make so much as one peep, we’ll be forced to shut you up, and you won’t like that none. You understand me?”
She looked into his eyes and nodded.
Wendell took his hand away, still holding her arm in a viselike grip.
“Go to the livery stable,” he ordered Dodger, “and bring back a horse for her. No trouble and no noise, you hear? I don’t want no one knowing we’re taking her. And don’t show your face. Got it?”
“Got it.” With one more look at her, Dodger went out. She heard the front door of the house close behind him.
“Why?” Sheila asked. “Why are you doing this?”
“I get a feeling your father needs a little prodding. And you might be just the poke he needs to get the job done.”