One White Rose Read Online Free PDF

weaknesses. Douglas was the complete opposite of him. Nothing seemed to faze Douglas.
    "Parker needs you until I get stronger."
    "I'll be back," he promised once again. "You have to let go of me."
    "Can I do anything to help you?"
    "Sure. Give me a list of the things you need. I don't want to forget anything."
    "There's a list in the drawer in the kitchen. I started it weeks ago." She sounded frantic when she added,
    "I called it my wish list."
    He didn't realize she was crying until she released him and sank back against the headboard.
    "Ah, sugar. Don't cry."
    "I'm just a little emotional today. That's all."
    He had to do something to make her trust him. He checked on little Parker, then picked up his pocket watch, told her what time it was, and put it back on the dresser. When he looked at her again, he saw the fear still in her eyes.
    "You know what you need, Isabel?"
    "It's all down on my list," she answered.
    "I'm not talking about supplies."
    "Then, no, I don't know what I need."
    "Faith. Try finding a little while I'm gone, or you and I are going to have words when I get back." The hard edge in his voice didn't upset her. She was actually comforted by it. He would come back, if only to give her a piece of his mind for doubting him. He was arrogant and proud enough to do just that, and, oh, it was so wonderful to have him snapping at her. He acted as though he belonged with her and Parker.
    "I didn't mean to insult you."
    "Well, you did."
    She tried to look contrite. She didn't want him to leave on a sour note. "I'll find some faith. I promise." There was a definite sparkle in her eyes when she added, "You be careful, sugar."
     

Chapter Four
    Old habits die hard. Douglas had never forgotten how to pick a lock or get in and out of a building without being seen. He'd spent several years living on the streets of New York City, surviving by his wits and his criminal skills, before he met his three brothers and his baby sister, and headed west. Before that, he'd been in an orphanage. Granted, he'd been only a boy when he'd perfected his criminal technique. But it was like making love to a woman. After you learned how, you never forgot. His experience as a petty thief came in real handy now. So did the rain, for it kept the night owls inside their homes. Boyle's men weren't a problem, just an inconvenience. Douglas stashed the buggy in a cove near their lair on the hill overlooking Sweet Creek, then crept up on the four men and listened to their conversation in hopes of gaining some useful information about their boss. He didn't learn anything significant. Other than taking Boyle's name in vain several times because he'd assigned them this miserable duty, the men spent the rest of the time boasting to one another about the number of shots of whiskey they could swallow in a single sitting. They were incredibly boring, and after listening to their whining complaints for almost twenty minutes, Douglas hadn't heard anything significant. He was about to make a wide circle around them and continue on when Boyle's men decided to leave their posts and go back into town for the night. Not only had the weather finally gotten to them, but they were also certain their boss would never find out.
    Their laziness made Douglas's task easier. He made six trips on his sorrel back and forth from the general store to the buggy with supplies Isabel would need, then headed across town to Dr. Simpson's cottage.
    He didn't knock. He went in the back door because, just as Isabel suspected, Boyle was keeping a close watch on the physician. He had a man stationed out front. Douglas spotted the guard leaning against a hitching post across the street with a rifle in one hand and a bottle of liquor in the other. There wasn't anyone watching the back, however. Douglas figured Boyle had ordered one of his men to do just that, but like the complainers up on the hill, he'd probably sneaked home too. Douglas had forgotten that Isabel had told him Simpson was