Cindy Holby Read Online Free PDF Page B

their house next to the livery since they were the parents of three sets of twins and had Gretchen’s grandmother living with them.
    Jake’s ranch was too far away. He’d likely be staying in one of Ward’s rooms tonight. Zeke Preston, the assayer, was about as friendly as a rattlesnake. There was Dusty…but Dusty was Dusty and about as predictable as the weather. The other few families that lived close to Angel’s End were full up, another reason Leah was chosen to board the preacher in the first place.
    They were waiting on her. As they waited for her mindto stop its dithering, Pastor Key could freeze to death. “I’m sure.”
    “Pris, take the horse over to Jim’s,” Ward instructed as he and Jake picked up the preacher. “Dang,” he grunted. “He’s pretty solid for a preacher.”
    “Go tell Gus too,” Jake said.
    “What if his wife answers the door?” Pris complained. “I’m not walking all the way down there in this weather in these shoes just to be left out on the step freezing my backside.”
    “He’s the mayor, Pris,” Jake said. “He should be told.” He shifted Pastor Key’s shoulders into a better position with his knee. “I wonder how he got shot.” Jake grunted with his heavy burden.
    The wind whipped against Leah’s body and she practically had to bend over to make any headway up the street. With Dodger bounding excitedly ahead of her, she let her mind race with the impossible task set before her.
    Bandages. She’d need bandages. And hot water.
What else?
Something for the pain; no doubt Ward would recommend whiskey. Well then he could supply it.
Oh my goodness, I can’t give whiskey to a preacher.
If only she knew more about herbs and such like the Indians used. What if the bullet was still inside him? They wouldn’t expect her to dig it out would they? Not after she’d failed with Nate. It had been in too deep and she couldn’t get a hold of it. He’d screamed in agony when she tried. Why, oh why, Lord, didn’t they have a doctor in town. Wouldn’t it make more sense to save lives instead of souls? Or course, it wasn’t that often that men showed up shot on the streets of Angel’s End. Only twice to her knowledge.
    She’d been expecting a boarder, not a patient. She’d hoped Pastor Key would spend his time visiting the ranchers and miners that lived around Angel’s End and his limited time at her house would be used for private prayer and preparationfor his Sunday sermons. Dusty had begrudgingly agreed to feed him his three meals a day. Maybe both of them needed a lesson in giving.
And who better to deliver it than a preacher?
    His room was sort of ready. She’d been postponing moving Banks up to the loft, certain the preacher would not show up until spring. Jim was supposed to hang doors to the bedrooms, once he got done making them. She could only hope that it wouldn’t take him too long to finish them.
    Banks stood on the porch. Luckily he had enough sense to put his coat on but the door was open, which meant the house was filling up with cold air. Dodger barked joyfully. Obviously proud of his success, he waited on the porch for Leah to congratulate him. All she could do was touch his head as she hustled Banks inside.
    “Go get your stuff from your room,” she instructed. “The new preacher is here and he’s hurt.”
    Banks watched wide-eyed as Ward and Jake stomped on the porch and into the house with their burden. “What happened to him?”
    “He got shot,” Ward said.
    “Ward!” Leah hissed.
    “Hey, it’s a fact of life. You think he’s going to grow up out here and not know what guns do?” They stood in the hallway as wind brushed by them from the open door.
    “Ward, Banks is Leah’s son. She gets to decide how to raise him,” Jake said.
    “Where are we putting the not-shot patient?” Ward asked dryly.
    “In here.” Leah led them to the second bedroom, behind the parlor and across from hers. She threw back the blanket and quilt. Turned up