Castillo's Fiery Texas Rose - By Tessa Berkley Page 0,22

to where I was going to stay.”

“So you’re going to get the bodies.”

“Yep, I made a deal with the undertaker. I told him to meet me at your office.” He turned and looked at Rand. “You say you took my saddlebags over?”

“Sure did.”

“Good. I’ve got something to show you.”

“Lead on, young fellow.” Rand’s eyes brightened. “I want to get this mess cleaned up, pronto.”

But it was not to be. The undertaker was waiting at the office.

“When you get back,” Rand said. Trace climbed aboard the wagon and, with a nod, they moved off.

****

Mary Rose lay in the quiet calm of the doctor’s extra room. She’d picked at her food. Even with the gentle urging of the Widow Hatfield, she’d eaten her fill. Not that she felt like eating much after that little talk with the sheriff when he showed up after the marshal left this morning. She knew there were questions that needed answers. Still, her head was not clear enough to give him any solid clues. If only she could remember what any of those men looked like.

Closing her eyes, she listened to the click-clack of Widow Hatfield’s wooden knitting needles as she added stitches onto the growing blue shawl. She’d told the sheriff that the marshal promised to bring her brother’s body and Moe’s from the spring. She wanted to remain awake for that. It was so important for her to regain control. She wanted to know that her brother’s body was back and that he’d be buried in the churchyard.

Mary Rose’s chest burned with raw emotion. How can I carry on without my brother? They were like a matched pair of horses. Both of them had been determined to see the freight business catch on and grow, and they were close, so close, to making it a success. Her eyes flashed open, and she stared at the ceiling. Who can I get to drive? Will they recover the missing wagon? The dull ache behind her eyes began again. She blew out a deep breath and heard the widow’s needles come to a halt.

“You need anything, dear?”

She turned her face toward the widow’s round one and whispered, “No, I’m fine. I’d just like to get out of this bed.”

Mrs. Hatfield lifted the corners of her mouth. But no pleasant smile could hide the pity in her eyes. It drew Mary Rose’s wrath. She didn’t need sympathy. She needed someone to find the men who did this to her brother and to Moe. Bless her! She wanted revenge. She wanted those men to pay for destroying her life. She wanted to punish them the same way they had punished her.

“I’m right here if you need me or need a shoulder to cry on.” The widow remarked, picking up the pace of her needles.

The sound seemed to mark the passing of time. Mary Rose needed to think of persuasive arguments to get the marshal to help her find these men. If only she had two good hands. She sighed and laid her good arm over her face to shield it from the light.

“Ah, Mrs. Hatfield.” Doctor Martin’s voice made both women jump.

“Land sakes,” the widow gasped, her hand flying to her heart as she captured both needles in one hand. “You gave me quite a fright.”

“Pardon,” he replied.

Mary Rose moved her arm and watched as he came in and opened a cabinet, fishing out a square of blue material, and she caught the twinkle in his eyes, as if he’d startled the widow on purpose. “I’m thinking Miss Thornton might like to get up for a bit.”

Eagerly, she pushed back the covers and attempted to pull her body erect.

“Hold on there,” Doc Martin fussed. He and the widow helped her ease into a sitting position. Mary Rose could tell her heart raced, but it felt so good to be sitting upright.

“No black spots?” he asked, searching her face.

“None.”

With a nod, he leaned forward to tie the ends of the sling around her neck. “This may hurt,” he warned her as he eased her arm inside.

She held her breath. There was a bit of pull, but the pain seemed manageable. “I’d like my robe,” she said, looking over at the widow. “Would you go to my house and get it?”

“Of course, sweets.” The widow nodded. “I’ll bring a brush and a few things to make you look tidy, too. That nice young man will be stopping back by, won’t he?”

“Yes.” Mary Rose’s mouth pulled a bit downwards at the thought of