The Law and Miss Penny Read Free Page B

leg was always a difficult task for Zack, and he knew that he was the least medically inclined of the three Pennys. So Zack turned to the back of the medicine wagon and knocked on the door. "Mariah. Come on out here. The marshal's had an accident."
    Inside the wagon, Mariah was brushing the plaits from her jet-black hair until it hung like a curtain of the finest crushed velvet. She'd changed into a shrimp-pink cotton blouse and a dark brown jacket with matching skirt. The reason she'd stayed inside the wagon and out of sight during their forced departure from Bucksnort was the other change she'd made in her appearance. She'd taken a wad of cotton soaked in mineral oil and smoothed it over the exposed parts of her skin, removing all traces of the greasepaint which made her look more like a Kickapoo Indian. Now that her true, peachy complexion had been exposed, there was no telling what the arrogant marshal would do to her, no matter how effective or authentic her medicines might be. He might even jail her.
    "Mariah, baby," Zack called again. "This poor fool is out for the count, and looks to be hurt pretty bad. Get on out here."
    She opened the door a crack. "I'm out of costume. What if he sees me like this?"
    "I wouldn't worry too much about that, girl. This fellah looks like he's close to dead. Get on out here and see if you can't do something for him."
    Her nursing instincts overriding her fear of being found out, Mariah climbed out of the back of the wagon and knelt down beside the lawman. After flipping him onto his back, she checked his pulse, noting that it was erratic, but strong, and then forced his auburn lashes apart. The whites of his eyes were jittery, and the deep green irises rolled up out of sight. In an effort to bring him around, Mariah slapped the lawman's cheek and said, "Marshal? Are you still in there?"
    More than happy to repeat the procedure, she slapped him again, harder yet, but still he didn't respond. Morgan Slater was out about as cold as a man could get, and completely helpless. For one fleeting moment, Mariah wondered why they couldn't just leave him there in the mud. It would serve him right.
    Instead, she leaned over the unconscious man and said, "You're not only a bastard, but a lucky one at that." Then she glanced up at her father. "Would you ask Oda to get me the smelling salts and our medical pouch?"
    Zack limped off without another word, and as she awaited her father's return, Mariah slipped her hand beneath Slater's head. Feeling an irregular ridge as his scalp met her fingertips, she gently pushed against it. The spot felt a little softer than she thought it should. Concerned, Mariah eased his head back down to the ground, and her fingers came away bloody. She was staring at that hand when her father came hobbling back with her dog, Daisy, bounding along beside him.
    Zack dropped the bag on the ground. "How bad is he?"
    "I don't know for sure." Mariah reached inside the pouch for a strip of clean white cotton to bind the marshal's wound. "But whatever hit him split his scalp open."
    Oda lumbered up beside her husband then, and peered down at the fallen man. "Something split that thick-skulled head? Couldn't have happened to a nicer fellah."
    Chuckling to herself, Mariah snapped a small glass vial apart, cradled the marshal's head in the crook of her arm, and waved the salts beneath his nose. He stirred slightly, and she did it again.
    The first sensation to reach him was an intense chill. He was colder than he'd ever been in his entire life and could feel the few sparks of heat still left in his body flickering, and then slowly dying, one by one. For some reason, he didn't really care. He was content to drift away on that frigid cloud. But then a new sensation swept over him, something bitter, a bright, hot odor that filled the inside of his head with tacks, and nails, and shards of glass. He shuddered violently, and then slipped back down into the sleepy comfort of his icy cave.
    Mariah