CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
At dawn, Captain Watts and Private Evans saddled up, expressing an urgent need to catch up with the column. But before he left, the doctor gave Jenny Calthrop a small brown bottle that he told her was tincture of iodine.
“Apply to the wounds several times a day to prevent infection,” he said. He smiled. “The good, clean prairie air will help with their recovery. I found tobacco in Mr. Caine’s shirt pocket, so encourage him to smoke. It’s very good for the lungs.”
“I will, doctor,” Jenny said.
“And take care of yourself,” Watts said. “You look as though you’ve been through it.”
“Yes, I have,” Jenny said.
“Maybe one day you will tell me all about it,” Captain Watts said.
The girl said, “My family was killed by some evil people and I was kidnapped. Deputy Sheriff Caine and his vigilantes saved me.”
Watts managed a smile. “And now you’re going home.”
“I have no home,” Jenny said.
“Then maybe I can remedy that,” Watts said. “I’m a widower and I have a daughter about your age. Her name is Clara, and she has a paint horse she calls Geronimo. Perhaps you’d like to come live with us at the officers’ quarters in Fort Concho.”
Jenny smiled. “I think I’d like that.”
“Where can you be reached?”
“Thunder Creek, I guess.”
“Then stay there. As soon as this campaign is over, my daughter and I will come for you,” Watts said.
“I’ll take care of her until then.”
All heads turned to Dan Caine who’d stepped from the tent and now stood shirtless, a thick white bandage around his middle. He was pale and drawn but seemed steady on his feet.
“Easy, Mr. Caine, easy now,” Watts said. “You should spend the rest of this day and at least the next two or three resting. And that also goes for your Indian friend.”
“We’ll spend the rest of this day in the saddle, Captain,” Dan said. “There’s something I have to do in Thunder Creek. And just in case I forget, thank you for saving my life.”
“You might have lived a long, happy life with a bullet in you, but I doubt it,” Watts said. “And you’re most welcome.”
Before the captain rode out, he drew rein beside Dan and said, “Take good care of Jenny. I see fine qualities in that young lady.”
Dan nodded. “So far she’s endured a lot in her life,” he said. “I think now she deserves a chance at happiness.”
“She’ll be happy with Clara and I,” Watts said. “A frontier army post can be lonely for a girl, and my daughter will welcome her with open arms.” The officer extended his hand. “Hopefully I’ll see you again very soon, Mr. Caine. Good luck.”
“You too, Captain,” Dan said. “Good luck.”
* * *
They spent another two days and nights on the trail and on the third day around noon Dan and the others rode into Thunder Creek. The ride had weakened Dan and though his wound showed no sign of infection, it had bled profusely, and the massive loss of blood had made him a very sick man. He rode slumped over in the saddle and Jenny Calthrop had to reach out and support him.
Frank Halder, the boy whose mother had dragged him away from the posse, was on the porch outside Doan’s store drinking a soda pop and was the first in town to see them.
“Deputy Caine is back!” he yelled.
Sheriff Chance Hurd heard that cry and looked out his office window. He saw Dan, and a jolt of alarm went through him.