Page 7 of Mail-Order Tess (A Mail-Order Mystery #2)

Seven

“ T ess!”

Wade jumped off his horse and ran for the wagon. The sharp smell of kerosene wafted toward him, and he cringed. Whoever had been shooting at her had obviously missed, but the right shot could’ve set the whole thing ablaze. They might still.

He reached her slumped form on the wagon seat.

“Sheriff, some help!”

Sheriff Walker hurried to the wagon. “Hand her down to me, Wade.”

He did, and together they got her away from the wagon and onto the ground.

“I’ll get the horses,” the sheriff said and took off.

Wade cradled Tess’s head in his lap and gently patted her cheek. “Come on, honey. Wake up… come on now.”

Her eyes fluttered open then widened when she saw him. “The wagon… kerosene!”

“Yes, we know,” he said soothingly. “Don’t worry, we’re a safe distance away.”

Her hand went to the back of her head. “I fell…it hurts…”

“Here, let me help you sit up.” He eased her up and scooted behind her to support her. “Where did you hit your head, honey?”

“Back here.” She touched the spot and winced.

Wade gently moved her hand and searched for the wound. When he pulled his fingers away, they were streaked with blood.

“We need to get you to Doc Griffith right away. He’ll fix you up.”

Sheriff Walker returned, leading the horses and quickly tying them to a nearby tree. “I think whoever took a shot at her is long gone. One of us should drive the wagon back. I’ll do it.”

“And I’ll take Tess,” Wade said. He wasn’t about to let her ride in a wagon full of leaking kerosene. Mr. Tindle was going to have a mess to clean up. Wade would help and ask him questions at the same time. But right now, he needed to take care of Tess.

He turned his attention back to her, taking in her frightened eyes. “You’re okay, sweetheart.”

She shivered. “Am I? It doesn’t feel that way. I don’t understand what’s happening. Why is someone trying to kill me?”

“Because they think you have something they want. And I’m afraid Henry must be involved.” He hesitated. “The answers have to be in his diary, but I haven’t deciphered enough yet.”

“Well, I wish you’d hurry up.” She tried to climb to her feet and failed.

“Not so fast, honey.” He caught her and steadied her. “Here, let me help.”

He got her upright, but she lurched to one side. “Whoa there, sweetheart. Give yourself a minute.”

“She can ride my horse back,” Sheriff Walker offered.

“I don’t want to take a chance on anyone getting another shot at her, or her falling off. She can ride with me, and you can drive the wagon. We’ll stay close together.”

The sheriff nodded. “Good idea. Miss Pendergrass, do you think you can make it back to town? Can you ride?”

Tess put a hand to her temple and closed her eyes. “I’m not sure. I… I don’t feel very well.”

“You might have a concussion,” Wade said gently. “If you can get on my horse, I can get you to the doctor.”

She nodded but swayed again.

“Let’s give you a few more minutes,” he said, holding her elbow to steady her.

She looked at him with pain clouding her eyes. “I’m sorry to be such a bother.”

“A bother?” he said, surprised. “Sweetheart, someone just tried to kill you again, and you still managed to stop that runaway wagon after bumping your head. You’re no bother at all. In fact, I think you’re very brave.”

A strangled laugh escaped her. “I don’t feel very brave.”

“Trust me,” he said. “You are. Isn’t that right, Sheriff?”

“Oh yes,” Sheriff Walker said with a grin. “You’ll have every woman in town clucking about this for days, including my wife.”

That brought a small smile to Tess’s lips.

“Let’s get you on my horse,” Wade said, guiding her toward Magpie. She was a strong, fast mare, but gentle. She’d hold still while they got Tess in the saddle.

It took both Wade and the sheriff to get her settled. When Wade climbed up behind her, Tess let out a soft groan of pain.

“Your head hurt badly?” he asked.

“Only when I laugh,” she muttered.

He chuckled. “I’ve heard that one before. At least you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

“Where have you heard that before?” she asked. She leaned against then jerked forward.

Wade slipped an arm around her and pulled her against his chest. “Rest your head on my shoulder, sweetheart. There’s no shame in it. Not when you’re injured like this.”

She let out a long breath and did as he said. “I can’t keep my eyes open.”

“You keep those pretty green eyes open, Tess.” He turned his head to look at her. “Come on now, honey. Open your eyes.”

She did…then squinted at him. “The sunlight hurts them.”

“I know it does, but you’ve got to keep them open. Don’t fall asleep on me, you hear?”

She swallowed hard and tried again, but her eyelids drooped.

Wade gently popped his shoulder upward. “Nope. Keep those eyes open, honey.”

She opened them again and gave him a tired glare. “You’re not my friend right now.”

He grinned. “Well, I’d like to be your friend.”

“I suppose since you keep saving me, we should be friends,” she mumbled.

Wade could hear her voice weakening. He had to get her back to town and fast. But if he pushed Magpie into a canter, it might jostle her too much.

“We will be friends,” he said softly. “I’d like that very much.”

She smiled faintly but didn’t answer. At this point, it was probably too much effort to speak.

“Keep your eyes open for me, honey. Before you know it, Griffith will be fixing you up.”

“Martha…”

“Don’t you worry about Mrs. Tindle. She’ll be fine. I’ll see to it.”

“The wagon…”

“Sheriff Walker has the wagon, sweetheart. You don’t have to worry about a thing. Just focus on staying awake for me, okay?”

She grunted, and he didn’t like the sound of it.

He urged Magpie into a fast walk, but no more. The rest of the way back to town, he murmured words of comfort and did everything he could to keep Tess alert, shifting his shoulder every so often to draw her attention.

They couldn’t get back fast enough. And once he had her settled with the doctor, Wade was going hunting.

Doc Griffith was a kindly older man with white hair and a pair of spectacles perched on his nose. He peered at Tess and smiled. “Well, that’s a nasty bump you have there, young lady. Thank goodness it didn’t bleed too bad.”

Tess cringed. Her head still hurt, and her stomach rolled. “I’m going to miss work,” she murmured. “Martha will be upset with me.” She closed her eyes against the pain and grimaced.

“Don’t you go worrying about Mrs. Tindle,” the doctor said. “She’ll be fine.”

“I’ll go help her myself if I have to,” Wade offered.

Tess looked over at him, and a weak smile tugged at her lips. “Thank you for bringing me here. I never would’ve made it back to town on my own.”

“Then it’s a good thing you weren’t that far from it,” the doctor said. “Maybe a little over half a mile? That sound about right, Wade?”

“About that,” Wade said, settling into the chair on the other side of the bed. He took one of Tess’s hands in his. “Doc Griffith will take good care of you. I want you to stay here until I get back, and then I’ll take you home.”

“Where are you going?” she asked, curious.

“There are some things I need to do,” he replied. “Nothing for you to worry about. You just rest and feel better, now, you hear?”

She nodded, wincing again as the movement made her head throb.

“Careful how you move, Miss Pendergrass,” the doctor warned. “You’ve got a concussion. Best we keep an eye on you for a few hours.”

“But what will Pastor Adams and Winnie think?” she asked suddenly, the thought coming out of nowhere.

She didn’t even know why she said it. Only that the idea of being a burden weighed heavily.

If she couldn’t work, she couldn’t earn money.

And without money, how could she ever repay the kind pastor and his wife for letting her stay?

“Stop worrying,” Wade said, as if reading her thoughts. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then stood. “I’d best go.” He left the room.

“Fine young man, Wade Atwood,” Doc Griffith said. “You could do a lot worse.” He smiled and tugged the blanket he’d placed over her a little higher. “Now, you rest a bit. I’ll be just down the hall.”

“Can I sleep?” she asked, relieved she was no longer slurring her words.

“You can close your eyes but try not to fall asleep just yet. Maybe I should fetch someone to come sit with you for a spell. Let’s see…who could I ask?”

Tess forced a smile. “I guess it doesn’t matter, seeing as how I don’t really know anyone in town yet.”

“Hmmm…” The doctor tapped a finger against his chin, then patted her hand. “I’ll get some work done, and if I think of someone, I’ll fetch them. In fact…” He gave her a twinkle-eyed smile. “I think I have the perfect person in mind.” He smiled again and left the room.

As soon as he was gone, Tess closed her eyes and groaned at the persistent throbbing in her head.

How did I get myself into such a mess? Henry Bonner was proving to be more trouble than he was worth, and she hadn’t even met the man!

And thank goodness for that. Whatever kind of trouble he’d gotten himself into, she wanted no part of it.

She didn’t know how long she lay there before the doctor returned, this time with a gangly youth in tow. “Here we are, Miss Pendergrass.”

Tess blinked up at the wide-eyed, bespectacled teenager hovering behind the doctor. “Hello. Have we met already?”

The boy pulled off his hat and grinned. “Sort of. I’m Fletcher Vander. You’ve met my grandmother, Mercy Vander.”

Doc Griffith smiled, clearly pleased with himself. “Have a seat, Fletcher, and talk to the lady while I take care of some things.”

Tess watched the doctor disappear down the hall, then turned her attention to the lanky boy now seated beside her bed. “Hello again,” she said.

He smiled and twisted his hat in his hands. “So…um…what happened to you?”

Tess wasn’t sure how much to tell him. If she mentioned the truth, he might spread it all over town and send folks into a panic. Best to keep the part about someone trying to kill her to herself.

The problem was, how long would it be before whoever was after her hurt someone else because of her? Maybe she should leave town altogether. But of course, she had no money. She was stuck in Independence for the foreseeable future.

“Well?” Fletcher prompted. “Can you tell me, or do you want me to shut up and leave like most folks do?”

She mustered up a sympathetic look. “Why do they do that?”

“Oh,” he said, fidgeting in the chair. “My mother says it’s on account of how I talk a lot. Father says the same thing. I get it from my grandmother.”

Tess smiled faintly. “Somehow, I can see that.”

“Really?”

Her smile broadened, despite the ache in her head. “Really.”

Fletcher smiled back, stopped twisting his hat, and proceeded to talk her ear off. If the doctor’s intent was to keep her awake, he’d found his solution. Now, if only she could find one to keep her alive.