Beneath a Silver Sky, Page 3

  "Is there anything you need from the room?" Lucas pushed away from the table and stood.

  "No," Brogan replied. "Thank you."

  There was an awkward moment when Brogan lifted up to his feet clumsily. No one attempted to help, as it was obvious he'd not accept it by his firm expression.

  The bell over the clinic door announced the arrival of a patient. Her father hurried away followed by Lucas, who, no doubt, wanted to ask the doctor questions in private regarding Brogan's care.

  "I suppose I should wait a few moments to ensure my new nursemaid gets all the information he needs," Brogan muttered in a bored tone.

  Sarah couldn't stop the soft chuckle. "You have a ways to go before you'll be fully healed. There are some things you'll need help with and, in all probability, will require laudanum from time to time."

  Darkened eyes scanned her face for a long moment and she felt the air leave her lungs. "I understand. I neglected to thank you for everything you did for me. I appreciate it."

  Finally she was able to speak. “Yes...yes, of course. It’s gratifying to see you standing."

  "Thank you." He moved closer and the urge to reach out and touch him overrode common sense.

  She pressed her hand on his bicep. "Take care."

  When his large hand covered hers, Sarah expected her knees would give out and she'd melt to the floor in a puddle. The warmth of his skin touching hers sent waves of heat into her body.

  Abruptly, he dropped his hand and limped in the direction her father and Lucas had gone.

  Sarah sat back down and let out a long sigh. Brogan Hage remaining in Silver City was dangerous. Her heart and mind had followed him out of the room.

  Somehow she had to reel in these new feelings or she would be in deep trouble.

  He was a dangerous man; she had to remind herself of this until it sunk in.

  Brogan Hage was not the man for her.

  Chapter Five

  It didn't sit well with him to ride to the outlying areas in a wagon rather than on horseback, but after several stops to be introduced to families, Brogan was thankful. His back throbbed and right leg hurt so bad he yearned to return to his bed and sleep until it stopped.

  "That's probably enough for today. I have dinner plans with a family in town, so we should head back," Sheriff Douglas said, and Brogan figured he must have noticed his silence. It was much too early for dinner preparations.

  "Sounds good," Lucas chimed in. His friend rode alongside the wagon on horseback and had done most of the interactions with the families. Everyone so far had been accepting of the sheriff's position being taken by two men, one from Montana and the other Scotland. It helped that Sheriff Douglas made the introductions while peppering the townspeople with accounts of all the men had accomplished.

  Although he'd noticed some people regarding him with wariness, most were outright friendly.

  The ride back gave him time to ponder the last few days. He and Lucas were settled into the rooms behind the jailhouse. They'd taken turns spending time with the sheriff, not taking over responsibilities just yet, but learning what he did. More time than not, the job was more of a presence than actual law enforcement. Most of the problems came from rowdy drunks at the saloon and an occasional brawl in the street between men who disagreed over the pricing of goods and such.

  They'd met both Judge O'Heron and Preacher Matthews, the town's clergyman. Both men were reserved in their reception of the newcomers, neither showing any outward reaction. Brogan didn't care either way if the men accepted him, but it was necessary. He planned to make more of an effort to get to know them.

  Now, as he looked to the distance, he let his mind continue to wander in an effort to ignore the discomfort. He'd not seen Sarah Sutherland since leaving the clinic. Yet her face plagued him day and night. Mostly in the evening when he retired for the day, his mind would bring up every moment and interchange they'd had over the last few weeks. The woman was not only breathtaking, but also kind and caring. Everything he was not. For the first time in his life, he was infatuated and, damn it, he didn't like it one bit.

  When she'd touched him the day he left, his entire body had reacted to her. He'd been so very tempted to pull her closer. More than anything, in that moment, he'd wanted to cover her mouth with his and taste the forbidden fruit she was. New sheriff or not, he was not good enough for her. She was pure and good. He, on the other hand, had too many things in his past to be deserving of someone like her.

  "What is that?" Lucas brought Brogan out of his musing as his horse circled a sack on the edge of the river's bank. "Something's in it."

  The sheriff pulled the horse and wagon to a standstill. "Hope it's not a child."

  Brogan and the sheriff watched as Lucas dismounted and neared the sack, and then leaned over to open it. Inside was a litter of puppies. "They're all dead, except for one," he called over his shoulder. "Can't stand when people do this.” He picked up a tiny wiggling bundle and came to the wagon. "Here take him." Lucas shoved the mewling puppy at Brogan.

  Brogan let out a sigh and took the wee creature.

  Lucas always had a soft spot for critters and to be honest, if there was a soft spot in his own heart, it was for dogs. He shoved the pup between his shirt and jacket and it settled almost immediately.

  The sheriff shook his head. "Damn shame, it's probably not going to make it either. Too young to survive without its momma."

  "It'll make it," Lucas assured them.

  The next day, Brogan sat at the desk in the sheriff's office. The brisk air blowing through the open door announced the rapid approach of fall. The puppy slept soundly at his feet in a crate he'd lined with an old blanket. After securing goat's milk, he'd fed it every few hours and it seemed to be thriving.

  "Hello." Sarah stood at the door. In a green and white dress and matching bonnet, she was striking. Her bright hazel eyes met his. "I came to see how you are doing."

  Feeling like a schoolboy at the hard thudding of his heart, he ensured a blank expression and went to the doorway. "Please come in.” He searched the front of the building and down the street for Lucas or Sheriff Douglas. The last thing he wanted was to be alone with her.

  He didn't trust himself to be in close proximity to the beauty. "I just made some coffee. Would you like some?"

  "No, thank you, but I will sit for a bit. Just finished shopping at the mercantile and I am quite tired."

  It was then he noticed the light purpling under her eyes and pallor.

  "Are you ill?" Feeling foolish at pointing out the fact she looked to be not well, he cleared his throat. "Not that you look it."

  Her laughter made him smile in return. In spite of how hard he tried to keep a division between them, any interaction with her felt good. “It's quite all right. I know I must look a fright. I've just gotten over a cold. Had to spend a few days in bed. I feel much better now."

  Unsure what to do when she sat down, he pulled up a chair across from her and lowered into it. "Tell me, Miss Sutherland, how do you manage to travel about town alone? I would think an attractive woman like you would instantly garner a chaperone. Unless you do, indeed, have a suitor who escorts you about?”

  He looked to the empty doorway and cursed inwardly. Why had he asked that? He didn't need to know more about her. The last thing they should do is discuss personal matters. This was a depth he could surely drown in, given the chance.

  "I do not require a chaperone, Mr. Hage. Silver City is a safe place."

  She'd not responded to whether or not she had a suitor and he let it pass. Brogan leaned forward resting his elbows on top of his knees. "I'm glad you're doing better. If I'd known you were unwell, I would have..." He wasn't sure there was anything he could do. Feeling foolish, Brogan searched his brain for how to finish the sentence.

  Sarah's lips twitched. "Brought me soup?"

  "I suppose with your father being a doctor, there wasn't much I could have done to help."

  "How are you settling in Silver
City? Do you miss your home?"

  For a moment, he considered a short reply to not encourage a conversation. However, he realized he didn't want Sarah to leave. Instead, he hoped she'd linger. "It has been an easier transition than I expected. The people seem to respect Sheriff Douglas and take his word that I am a suitable replacement. Lucas, too."

  "I'm glad to hear it." Her gaze lingered on his face and then catching herself, she looked away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

  Although the knowledge she could be attracted to him lightened something in his chest, he ignored the sensation. "As far as missing my home, aye, I do. Although my father was English, when he died, my mother returned with my sister and me to her home near Moriag, Scotland. I lived there from ten and five until leaving to come here."

  "I hear it's beautiful there," she replied. "Huge, misty mountains, very green expanses of land with amazing lakes and seashores."

  He pictured his homeland and it was, indeed, as beautiful as she described. "It is as you say, quite breathtaking. Idaho is equally nice."

  "Nice?" Once again her smile tugged at the heart he'd thought dead long ago. "You are being polite to compare."

  "What about you? Have you lived here all your life?"

  "Yes. I was born in the same house my father and I live in now.” Her smile faltered and she got a faraway look. "My mother died five years ago. It just about killed my father. He fell into a deep melancholy. I was on the brink of leaving for medical school and changed my mind to remain with him."

  "It's admirable you gave up on your dream for your father," Brogan said, admiring her even more.

  "Sometimes I wonder," Sarah said and shook her head. "I am very happy to have remained here. It's interesting how things change over the years. How what was important once, seems not so much later.” She pushed from the chair. "I should go."

  He stood at the same time and inadvertently they were only inches apart and both froze in place.

  Sarah's gaze went to his lips, in perhaps an unconscious request. When she didn't move away, Brogan leaned forward until their lips were a scant breath apart.

  "There's something going on over by the saloon," Lucas called to Brogan.

  With rounded eyes and a soft gasp, Sarah took a step back from Brogan, who did the same.

  Lucas walked through the door and stopped, his gaze going from Brogan to Sarah. "Ah...How are you, Miss Sutherland?"

  "Mr. McKade. I am well, thank you. Was just about to leave. I came to see how Mr. Hage fared."

  There were many questions in Lucas’ eyes when he looked to Brogan. "I see."

  "What happens?" Brogan directed the conversation away before Lucas asked anything else. "Is it safe for Miss Sutherland to walk home?"

  "Yes. I think there's some sort of rally. A man is standing at the saloon speaking to whoever will hear about the encroachment of miners."

  Sarah let out a breath. "That would be Harvey Wild. He is a very unpleasant man. However, other than his attempts to keep miners from his land, he's harmless. Most townspeople avoid him, but he has a small group of farmers that agree with him and will sometimes gather to hear what he says."

  The new lawmen became serious. Brogan wondered how long before he'd learn all the nuances of his new town. "Is the encroachment on people's land a real problem?"

  "For the most part, no. The silver mines are kept to specific excavation sites. You can ride out there and see. The miners there have a large camp and are beginning to build homes and establish their own little town of sorts, just north of here. Some of the younger miners live here in town, sons or husbands of local families."

  She continued. "However, there are gold miners that seek gold in the waterways. Those men are usually loners who don't pay particular attention to where they set up camp."

  Lucas went to the small stove and placed a kettle upon it to heat up water. "Sounds like a bit of a problem. They should ask permission first. Encroaching is a good way to get shot."

  "Unfortunately, it has happened." Sarah went to the door and paused. "I suggest you ride out to the different waterways. Sheriff Douglas can tell you the spots where the miners set up. Harvey Wild's lands are on the south side of the creek. That would be a good place to start."

  "Thank you," Brogan replied taking her elbow. "Are you sure you don't require escort home?"

  Her eyes met his and he tried to decipher the silent message. “No, thank you just the same. I'll be fine.” With her basket on the crook of her arm, she walked away. The enticing sway of her skirts kept his attention.

  "How long do you plan to watch?” Lucas' tone was flat, but with a slight edge.

  He caught himself before replying with a hard remark. Lucas was right; he was acting differently around the woman. He didn't like it.

  He didn't like it one single bit.

  Chapter Six

  The late summer rains made for a beautiful afternoon. Sarah brushed errant strands of hair away from her face as she sat on the front porch enjoying the pitter-patter of rain on the structure's roof. Her mind went to Brogan Hage. Admittedly, it had gone there often since the day of their near kiss.

  She was convinced if Lucas McKade had not interrupted, Brogan would have kissed her and how she'd wanted him to as well. She'd felt the warmth of his breath on her face, noticed the darkening of his gaze when looking upon her lips. He was everything forbidden and yet so desirable, she wasn't sure how much longer it would be before she could keep from humiliating herself by making another excuse to see him.

  Somehow, she would find a way to keep from doing so. Perhaps she'd visit the school and help with the children's lessons.

  Just then, two riders came at a fast pace toward her. One had a man across the horse in front of him.

  Sarah assessed the situation for a moment and then hurried inside to alert her father.

  It took a bit for her eyes to adjust to the dimness of the interior and she hurried past the clinic to where her father sat in a chair, a book on his lap and head lulled to the side. He was napping and she hated to wake him, but it was necessary. "Father, men approach, they bring an injured man." She kept her voice soft to not startle him.

  Immediately, his eyes opened and he blinked away the sleep before standing and leading her out of the room. "Remain here,” he said once they reached the front room. Through the window, she watched as the men pulled the unconscious one from the horse and carried him to the front porch. Her father threw open the door. "Bring him this way."

  Although they seemed concerned about the sick man, they cast wary glances about the room, barely hesitating at noticing Sarah before continuing to look about. They had the look of men who'd been living outdoors. With long, unshaven beards, untamed hair and dirty, sweat-smelling clothing.

  One of the men with a long scar down the side of his jawline gave her a long look as they walked past to take the injured one to the examination room. A cold shiver at the lack of propriety made her turn away and walk to stand behind her father.

  "What happened?" her father asked, already removing the injured man's shirt to examine a rather nasty looking gash on the man's abdomen.

  The men glanced at each other before the scarred one replied. "Barroom fight over a card game."

  Sarah assisted her father in cutting away the man's shirt. She noticed an infected gunshot wound to the man's right upper arm which had yet to heal, but refrained from asking how it had occurred. She didn't have to. The men were either cattle rustlers or outlaws. It was clear by the way they'd lied about how the man received the injury. If he'd been stabbed in a saloon, chances were the man would have been cared for in town by the local doctor. They would not have traveled so far to seek medical attention. The injury was not a gunshot, but a stab wound made with a crude object. In all probability, the injury occurred during a fight, but by someone having to find something, anything, to defend with.

  Once again, the same man spoke. "Can you patch him up so we can go?"

  "I can care for him, but it wou
ld be best if you didn't move him right away. If you gentlemen care to wait in the front room or go refresh yourselves at the local hotel or saloon, I will see after your friend. It will be a while. Even days before he will be in any shape to travel."

  "We ain't got days," the other man finally spoke. "Just patch him up and we'll go."

  Her father, never one to intimidate easily, especially when speaking for someone placed in his care, stopped what he did and met the man's gaze. "If you take him now, he will die. His wounds are infected so he may actually lose the arm. You've put him in my care and, by doing so, I will tell you now. Your friend is very ill. If he survives the next few days, I'll be surprised."

  The statement gave the men pause. The scarred one motioned to the other and they walked out, obviously to talk and decide what they needed to do.

  "Outlaws," her father said, his attention back to the injured man. Sarah studied the man. He was young, perhaps early twenties, slender and from what she could see past the hair on his face, was scarred across the forehead and his nose had been broken before. Seemed the young man lived a hard life.

  "I gathered as much," she replied. "Should I get the sheriff?" Sarah kept her voice low even though the other men were still outside.

  Her father shook his head. "I hope they’ll leave. Although I suspect this may be a son to one of them, so they may insist on either staying or taking him. If that's the case, I'm not sure how we'll handle it."

  At the sound of the men returning, they stopped talking. Sarah brought clean bandages and water to begin cleaning the wounds, purposely keeping her head down and not looking at the men.

  It always astonished her how cool her father remained in situations such as this. If he was nervous about the outlaws, or affected by their presence, he never let on. His hands were steady as he pushed and prodded at the injuries. "You shouldn't have waited this long to find him care. He's feverish.” He spoke evenly, not bothering to look at the men.