Lori Connelly

The Outlaw of Cedar Ridge


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his bag shut. Evie walked him outside. He waited by his buggy while she fetched a small bag of dried apples and a crated chicken.

      “Would these cover what we owe you?”

      “It’ll do.” The doctor accepted the offering. “I’ll be back out to check on Ben tomorrow.”

      Arms crossed at her waist, Evie watched him set what she’d given behind the black leather seat. He climbed in, snapped the reins and drove off. Her shoulders slumped. Alone and solely responsible for Ben, she felt weighed down with worry.

      Evie went back to the cabin on leaden feet. Once satisfied her husband rested easy, she sat down, closed her eyes but minutes later remained wide-awake. Though far past tired, she couldn’t settle down. She got up and changed into a clean dress of blue calico, tidied the room, fussed with Ben’s blankets then reached down, pulled out the laundry basket.

      After she propped the door open, Evie carried the clothes outside. She soon had water boiling in a large pot hung above a fire and tossed in the stained items. The hot, unpleasant job took up a good portion of her afternoon. She yawned often as she hung the last of the laundry up to dry. The sound of a moan floated out of the cabin while Evie kicked dirt on the fire. She hurried inside straight to her husband.

      “Are you all right?”

      “Could I have some water?” he rasped.

      “Of course.” She filled a mug from the kettle and returned.

      His hands shook as he took it from her, which sloshed the lukewarm water over his fingers. Evie put her hands over his to steady them. Ben raised his head, took in a few long sips then pale, shaking, he laid back.

      “Thank you, Evie.”

      “You remember me?” Tense, hopeful, worried, she hesitated a second then took the mug from his slack grip, putting it down on the dresser.

      Ben cleared his throat yet his voice emerged husky. “Of course, you’re the pretty lady who’s taking care of me.”

      “So you don’t know who I am?”

      “Other than your name, no.” He paused a moment, coughed, then continued in a soft, forced tone. “But I’m guessing I should.”

      Evie couldn’t keep the words inside. “I’m your wife.”

      “Oh.” He closed his eyes, his exhaustion obvious. “That’s … ”

      Ben drifted off again. Evie stomped her foot so frustrated she wanted to scream. She needed him to stay awake more than a blessed minute and talk to her. Her fingers tangled with his as she sank down on the rocker. Tears filled her eyes then spilled over, trailing down heated cheeks. She needed him.

      The remainder of the day passed in the same manner. When Ben stirred, they would exchange a few meaningless words. Evie gave him more sips of water and late in the evening, she managed to coax some broth into him. By the end of the very long day, little had changed.

      The need for sleep at last overcame her shortly after dark and Evie nodded off in her chair. A glancing blow to her upper arm woke her some time later. She opened her eyes. In the low, flickering light from the dying lamp Ben flailed, not wildly but with soft jerks as if in his dreams, he fought.

      “Ben.” Her tone low and pitched to comfort, Evie leaned over him. She captured one of his arms, holding it to the mattress. “Ben, wake up.”

      Her husband quieted but didn’t respond. Still weary, Evie started to relax, and then what she felt sank in. Heat radiated from his skin. Panicked she jumped up, grabbed the pail and dashed down to the creek without pausing to take the lamp. She stubbed her toes, snagged her dress on a thorny brush and almost fell into the running water but the terror that so often paralyzed her in the dark simply didn’t register. She filled her bucket and hurried back.

      Through the night, Evie soaked rags in the cold water then applied them to his heated forehead. His skin never stayed cool long before it burned again. Every so often Ben would mutter gibberish then thrash about until she soothed him.

      Her back ached fiercely by morning light. Evie straightened away from the bed with her hands pressed hard against the base of her spine. She yawned so wide and long her jaw hurt. Noise penetrated her fog of exhaustion. She went to the window and peeked through the curtains. The little black buggy was a most welcome sight. She stumbled over to the door, eager to let the doctor inside.

      After a quick exchange of information, Evie let Dr. Black take over Ben’s care. On the verge of collapse, she pulled her rocker across the room out of the way. She sat down, leaned her head against the high back, closed her eyes and slept.

      The next few days passed in a blur. Evie rested whenever Dr. Black was there. Naps at odd hours became routine. At the end of the week, a touch on her shoulder woke her from one. She blinked up at the tall man for a moment until her wits gathered.

      “Sheriff Green.” Evie sat up straight, pushing her hair out of her face. “Do you have news?”

      “Well Doc just said he believes the fever broke.”

      She sagged back against the chair. “Thank God.”

      “I came out to speak to Ben. Clearly he’s in no condition for that now but … ”

      An uneasy feeling knotted her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

      “Perhaps we should talk privately?”

      “All right.” Evie glanced over at the man who sat next to the bed and looked almost as tired as she felt. “I need to step outside with the sheriff for a moment.”

      Dr. Black acknowledged her words with a nod. She stood and led the sheriff outside. Her gaze swept the area as she emerged from the cabin. She took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air.

      Sheriff Green moved in front of her. “Ma’am you’re aware your husband has … irritated folks?”

      Evie could barely contain an unladylike snort. She arched an eyebrow and answered in a tone as dry as late fall leaves. “Yes.”

      “In the time you’ve lived here he’s made questionable deals, caused trouble in town drinking and brawling, there’s more than one accusation of cheating and he’s suspected of-”

      “Your point?” Her voice lowered to just above a whisper. That his words were true made them no less difficult to hear. “Are you trying to say Ben deserved what happened?”

      “No ma’am, but I’m warning you some might see it that way.”

      “Who? The person or people who hurt him? Do you know who did it?”

      “The men Talbert fired were overheard celebrating that your husband was hurt. They also had his horse.”

      “So you arrested them?”

      “I did when they started a fight and tore up the saloon. But those are the only charges I’m holding them on.”

      Evie shook her head, confused. “Not for attacking Ben?”

      “I’ve no proof of that.”

      “But you just said-”

      “It’s not a crime to be happy that a man got beat up.”

      “But…” With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she tried again to protest. “ They-”

      “All swear they had nothing to do with it.”

      “They had his horse.” She enunciated each word with force.

      “They claim they found it wondering loose, knew the mare belonged to you and were going to return it.”

      Heat burned across her cheeks. “So you’ll do nothing.”

      “Not much I can do ma’am. I rode out here hoping Ben could tell me something, some detail that might help but-”

      “Dr.