Marry Me. Jo GoodmanЧитать онлайн книгу.
truth about his own child,” Cole said.
Will flushed. “Yeah. ‘Course he did.”
“It might account for his dislike.”
“Because Runt’s a girl? What kind of sense is that? Girls are …” He searched for a word that would be the sum of all his scattered thoughts. “Nice,” he said finally. “They’re nice.”
“I agree, but there are entire cultures that believe daughters are inferior to sons and have no value. The Chinese, for example.”
Will wondered what explained Judah Abbot’s thinking. The man was eccentric, but Will had never taken him for a fool, and he’d been married once upon a time. Had Judah held that same prejudice against his own wife? “I reckon there’s no accounting for peculiar notions.”
“Probably not.”
Cole exchanged another bloody rag for a clean one. He saw Runt’s lips part around a soft moan, but her eyes remained closed. He called to Will, “Are you about ready with that thing?”
“Just about.”
Cole folded the last clean strip of sheet and placed it over the one between Runt’s legs. He finished washing her, examining her flesh for more wheals. It struck him as odd that there were no welts on her hips. He would have expected her to twist violently to avoid the blows, thus raising welts on at least one side, depending on where the assailant stood. Realizing that her legs had probably been restrained as well, Cole rolled down one of the socks. Abrasions circled her skin at the ankle.
“Could Judah be the father of her baby?” asked Cole.
Will’s stomach heaved. He waited for it to settle. “That’s a hell of thing to ask me, Doc. I’m just gettin’ used to the idea that he’s a she. I can’t think about how a baby got in him … her.”
Cole didn’t find the deputy’s answer surprising. He rolled Runt’s sock back up, loosely closed her trousers, and tugged on the stained tails of her shirt to give her some protection as Will drew near with the litter. “What about the sheriff? He was insistent that I come out here.”
Will set the litter down as close to Runt as he could. “Are you asking me if Wyatt Cooper could have fathered Runt’s baby? ‘Cause if you are, that makes you about as thick as day-old porridge.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of the sheriff suspecting that Runt was carrying a child.”
“Then he had to have suspicioned Runt was a girl.”
“That’s right.”
“He never said anything.”
Clearly, that troubled Will. Cole said, “Maybe he thought you’d laugh at him.”
“I probably would have.” He considered what Wyatt could have possibly known. “Wyatt’s got an eye for things, better than most folks, I’ve always thought. He started lugging his camera and equipment outdoors again, making photographs the way he used to before he became sheriff. His wife sorta insisted on it. She doesn’t like him underfoot when she’s working.”
As a member of the search committee, and a woman of considerable influence in Reidsville, Mrs. Cooper was among those who greeted his train at the station platform. He knew she owned half of the town’s mining operation outright, and all of the Calico Spur, but he learned these things later from others. She’d simply introduced herself to him as a dressmaker.
“Has Mrs. Cooper ever come out this way with her husband?” he asked, gesturing to Will to support Runt’s shoulders and back again.
Will moved into position as Cole did the same. They easily lifted Runt and laid her on the litter. “She’s met all the outliers at one time or another.”
Cole nodded but kept his own counsel. “Do you want to get your shirt before we leave?”
“Later. Once Runt’s back in the cabin.” He regarded Cole questioningly. “Unless you’ll need me then.”
“No. What I have to do is better done alone. Will the horses follow?”
Will put two fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. His mount tossed his head and turned in their direction. “Dolly will come by and by.”
Cole decided to place his unopened bag near Runt’s feet rather than trust either of the horses to carry it back. “Will you lead? I need to be able to watch her.” Once Will agreed, they bent and raised the poles together, testing the strength of the litter before they straightened completely. It was more difficult for Will because of the awkwardness of gripping the poles slightly at his back, and Cole waited until he was certain Will had a good grasp and balance before he indicated they could set out.
Their progress was slow but steady, and they only halted once when Cole saw Runt’s eyes flutter open. Her stare was blank at first, then so sharp with pain and accusation that Cole felt the edge of both. He thought she might have grimaced, but the dirt and blood smearing her lips could also have accounted for the misshapen curl of it.
Judah appeared in the doorway as soon as they reached the porch steps. He didn’t move aside. His clear intention was to block their entrance. He thrust the tip of the walking stick at Will’s chest, poking him hard. “You can’t bring Runt in here.”
“Move aside, Judah, or I swear I’ll pick your teeth clean with that stick.”
“You think I can’t keep you out?” He gave the stick a flourish. “Do not underestimate my skill, Deputy. I honed my talents for the stage, but they’re real enough. You have seen my Tybalt. He lays Mercutio out. And my Hamlet? The rapier is but an extension of my hand.” Judah parried with his stick, jabbing Will in the abdomen. “You’re not carrying a gun, I noticed. Just the rifle, and I think I can get to it first, what with you having to hold the litter the way you do.” He looked past Will’s shoulder at Cole. “You have something to say, Dr. Monroe?”
“Have you no compassion, Mr. Abbot? None? For your daughter?”
“So you know that now. Do you think it makes a difference? Should I keep company with a whore just because she’s my daughter?”
Will’s knuckles whitened on the litter. “Put down that damn stick, old man.”
Judah made a circling motion with the tip and lunged, driving the breath from Will’s lungs with the sharpness of the blow. Will staggered, lost his footing in the loose gravel at the base of the steps, and bobbled the litter. Behind him, he felt Cole’s grip change and thought they were losing Runt. It took him a moment to realize that Cole was lowering his end to the ground. The piercing whistle that followed made Will instinctively raise his shoulders to shield his ears. He noticed that the sound also halted Judah in his tracks and stayed his hand.
Will’s horse trotted up and sidled close. Cole had Will’s rifle out of the scabbard before Judah realized there was any danger. Sidestepping the horse, the litter, and the loose gravel, Cole raised the rifle and cocked it. His arm was steady, his aim true.
“You might find comfort in the fact that I know exactly where to fire a mortal round. There would be some pain but not much. I suspect you would be dead before you felt it.” He paused, his eyes fixed on Judah’s. “Now, move off the porch, Mr. Abbot, or I’ll shoot you in the knee where you’ll feel it the rest of your life.”
Judah Abbot’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. He offered no response, however, and gradually lowered the walking stick. He used it to support himself as he moved sideways to the left lip of the porch.
“Go on,” Cole said. “Jump.” It was only a few feet, but Cole knew enough about the stiffness in Judah’s hip to know the jolt would be painful and keep him from moving too quickly. As soon as Judah leapt, Cole laid the rifle beside Runt and picked up his end of the litter.
Will nudged the door open with his boot and went inside. “Judah’s bedroom is over there,” Will said, jerking his chin to the right.