Chapter 19 #2
Then she thought of a lifetime spent behind curtains and carriage windows, safe and watched and never free, and she tightened her grip on the shotgun.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Want? You’ll find out soon enough, sweet pea.”
She raised the weapon an inch, pointing it at the man’s chest. “You take even one step into this room, and I’ll blast you back into that hallway.”
“Will you now?” he sneered. “Well, maybe I’ll just test your spunk and…”
A hand appeared from outside the door, clutching his collar and yanking the intruder back into the hallway.
“Dodger, I am sick and tired of you being such an ass.”
“Are you?” The response was low and cool and laden with threat.
“You will do as you’re told. Hear me?” The other man’s voice was sharp and commanding and clearly unimpressed by his companion. “You will follow orders and stop trying to act like such a young tough every dang minute.”
Sheila took a step to the side to see what she could of the other man. The one who had hauled the menacing intruder back into the hall was older, shorter in stature, but hardly lacked in confidence. He wielded authority like a seasoned general.
They stood with locked horns in the dim light of the hallway. Tension sizzled in the air, and Sheila’s hand was shaking as she kept the shotgun up and pointed at them.
“Do you have a problem with what I’m telling you?” the older one hissed into the face of the other. His hand sat on the handle of the pistol in his belt.
The big man took his time answering.
“Not at all, Wendell.” The emphasis on the man’s name carried an unmistakable hint of taunting. “You’re in charge.”
Sheila let out the breath she’d been holding, realizing she’d already taken sides.
“And you just remember,” the man called Wendell continued. “We ain’t even guests in the doctor’s house. We’re on an errand for him.”
Her attention flew to the older man’s face.
“I hear you,” Dodger replied gruffly. “But don’t you never touch me again.”
Wendell took a long moment. “Then don’t make me. Now go down there and fetch what Doc Burnett wanted.”
She waited until Dodger had trudged down the stairs before moving an inch.
Wendell tipped his stovepipe hat to her.
He too was wearing a dark coat. His vest was wool, dark green, and missing two buttons.
The corner of a bandana hung out of one pocket.
He had the sharp features of a bird of prey, but his dark eyes were not threatening when he looked at her.
He had the weathered face of a man who’d seen hard times, and he made her think of the old, seasoned war veterans she’d seen in New York.
Sheila was hardly willing to trust either of them, though, and held the rifle steady.
“I am sorry, ma’am, for busting in here and surprising you. We didn’t mean to cause no trouble. But Doc didn’t say nothing about nobody staying in his house. If we knew, we’d have knocked first afore coming in.”
“How do you know my father?”
“Father?” He removed his hat and ran a hand through thinning hair. “Well, now. That’s another surprise. Doc definitely made no mention of no family.”
“I arrived in Elkhorn this week. We missed each other by a few hours.”
Sheila realized she was revealing too much. She shouldn’t be offering information. She should be asking questions.
“I still want to know how you know my father,” she demanded. “And I want to know where he is.”
He gestured to the gun she still had pointing at him. “Would you mind tilting that a few inches that a way, miss? I don’t want you hurting yourself. Or me, for that matter.”
“Answer me first.”
He nodded. “Fair enough. The doctor’s been staying out at my claim since the middle of the week, tending to my wife.”
“Where is your claim?”
“In the hills about ten miles or so yonder. I have a cabin and a mine that shows real promise. Indeed, it does.”
“What’s wrong with your wife?”
“Attacked by a rogue wolf, the poor thing. The critter got her here…and here.” He pointed to his neck and to his chest. “Tore her up bad, but Doc thinks he can save her.”
The man’s expression was sincere, and he dipped his chin and shook his head as he stared at the tips of his boots.
“That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”
“We’re hopeful, miss. Very hopeful.”
Sheila heard the sound of Dodger stomping around downstairs. “Who is that vile man you have with you? He intentionally frightened me.”
“I’m sure, miss. And I do apologize for Dodger’s manners. He has none. Raised bad, I reckon. Safe to say he don’t understand polite society. He works for me in the mine.”
Everything she was being told was plausible and tugged at the strings of her sympathy. But it was all very convenient, and every word could be a lie too.
“Why should I trust you, Mr. Wendell?”
“I’m just a miner with a hurt woman at home, miss. If I meant to make trouble for you or anyone else, why would I be coming here to Doc’s house looking for medical supplies that he sent me for? What good would they be to a feller like me?”
“What supplies exactly?”