Tempting the Marshal: (A Western Historical Romance) (Dodge City Brides Series Book 2) Read Free

missed? Fletcher wondered as he covered his eyes with one hand and sighed, trying not to wince when the doctor pierced the wound again with that aggravating needle. For all Fletcher knew, the kid in Zeb’s store tonight might have killed ten men on his way out of town.
    The doctor tied the thread and began to dress the wound. Fletcher’s head throbbed where he’d knocked himself out, but it was his leg that ached the worst, even though he tried to withstand it.
    It could have been a lot worse, he supposed. He’d seen other men shot before, and most times they didn’t live to see the dawn, so in that way, the doc was right. Fletcher should count himself lucky.
    Just then, the door opened. Startled, Fletcher leaned up on one elbow to see Deputy Anderson hurrying inside with a woman in his arms, looking like an anxious groom carrying his bride over the threshold on his wedding night. But this woman was no bride. She lay lifeless like a rag doll in the deputy’s arms.
    “Another casualty, Doc,” Anderson said. “It’s Mrs. O’Malley. I found her in the privy behind Zimmerman’s. She must have gotten in the way of a stray bullet.”
    Dr. Green quickly cleared off another examination table. “Set her down here.”
    Anderson laid her on the table and her face tilted away from Fletcher. He saw the disorderly twist of honey-colored hair at the back of her head, then his gaze fell to the accompanying blood stain on her shoulder.
    This was what happened when men didn’t respect the law. Innocent, law-abiding folks got hurt, and if they weren’t lucky, they got killed, too. He hoped this poor woman wouldn’t be one of the unlucky ones.
    Her long skirts fell over the side and touched the floor like a fancy tablecloth. Fletcher noticed with some interest that she wore men’s work boots.
    The doctor searched for a pulse at her neck. “Was she conscious when you found her?”
    “Yes, but she fainted straight away.”
    Doc began to unbutton her bloody bodice.
    Wanting to do something to help, Fletcher tried to sit up but felt suddenly nauseous and dizzy. He dropped back down and watched the ceiling spin over his head.
    The deputy approached. “Marshal! Thank the Lord! I heard you were shot in the head.”
    “No, just the leg,” he answered.
    “What’s this, then?” Anderson asked, pointing at the bloodstained dressing around Fletcher’s head.
    “Don’t ask.”
    “He knocked himself out on the corner of Zeb’s jewelry case,” Doc answered.
    “Well, I’ll be,” Anderson said. “Your first showdown in Dodge and you didn’t even get to see how it ended.”
    Fletcher ignored Anderson’s teasing tone. “Did anyone catch the guy?”
    “Not yet.”
    “Who’s the woman?”
    Anderson walked around the table, watching Doc examine the wound. “Josephine O’Malley. Her husband was killed about six months ago by some horse thieves. Right in his own barn.”
    Fletcher shifted uncomfortably. “Did anyone ever catch them?”
    Anderson shook his head. “No witnesses.”
    Fletcher glanced at Mrs. O’Malley, her arm hanging limply over the side of the table. “Where was she?”
    “ In the house, I reckon. Now, she keeps to herself. A bit of a recluse. Doesn’t even let her kid come to town. She lives out on her ranch with a bunch of cowhands and that causes a lot of talk in town, if you know what I mean.”
    The doctor glanced at Anderson with disapproval, then began unfastening the woman’s corset. “Deputy, you’ll have to wait outside.”
    Anderson left the office and closed the door behind him. The doctor gathered his instruments.
    “Need any help, Doc?” Fletcher asked.
    “No. But I suggest you look the other way if you’re feeling queasy.”
    Fletcher lay flat on his back and stared at the ceiling, searching for the little spider that had distracted him last time, but as luck would have it, he was gone. So Fletcher turned his attention to the bookshelf, but reading the spines of all those medical books