An Unconventional Lady Page 10

  When Rascal’s coat gleamed from the attention, Dallas replaced the brush and laid in a fresh pile of straw. He definitely needed a nap.

  When he awoke, the shadows through the barn door alerted him that it was late afternoon. He bolted to his feet and rushed through the house and upstairs to his room. He might not be excited about an evening with Dottie, but he had asked her and couldn’t be late.

  After washing in the basin and donning clean clothes, Dallas made it to the hotel just as the girls were emerging from the building. Annie wasn’t with them. But of course, she wouldn’t be. She lived at home and would get ready there.

  Dottie looked pretty in a green blouse and black skirt. Dallas offered her his arm. “There is a vendor selling ice cream. Would you like one?”

  “That sounds divine.” She clutched his arm with both hands, pressing herself uncomfortably close.

  Dallas sighed. He’d definitely make sure they stayed in a throng of celebrators.

  After they purchased ice cream and sat at a makeshift table of boards placed over logs, Dallas glanced around. At least fifty people milled around the vendors selling not only ice cream, but toys and handmade crafts. It looked as if almost everyone in town took advantage of the throng of tourists to make a few extra dollars. Even a few Indian women had spread a blanket with turquoise jewelry.

  His ma and sisters would love a necklace. If he purchased something for them, would Dottie expect a trinket also? Most likely, and probably a ring. No, he’d have to settle for paying a little extra at the mercantile for his gifts.

  “I can’t wait for the fireworks.” Dottie licked her spoon with the daintiness of a cat, her eyes narrowing. “I’ve never seen any before.”

  “Never?” He focused on his bowl, trying not to notice the sultry looks she sent his way. “Then you’re in for a treat.”

  “The real treat is sitting beside you on a blanket.” She winked.

  Dallas choked. Maybe he could pretend to get ill. Ah. Maybe there was something he could do to make the woman lose interest.

  Annie strolled in their direction, her arm linked lightly with McMurray’s. Dallas’s jaw dropped. She was a vision in yellow.

  “Good evening, Dallas. Dottie.” She nodded her lovely head in their direction.

  Dallas’s mouth dried up, leaving Dottie to answer. “Good evening. You should try the ice cream. Very creamy.” She licked her lips.

  Dallas could feel the blood rush from his head to his feet. His eyes widened as he locked gazes with Annie. She set her lips firmly and tugged Sean away.

  Surely she didn’t think he welcomed Dottie’s forward actions. He shoved aside what was left of his ice cream. Fool. He couldn’t even return her greeting. Not after the first glimpse of her looking as pretty as a sunset.

  When had he started looking at Annie as a woman rather than a friend? Was that why he had a hard time admitting his faults and apologizing?

  A young boy sped past, yelling out that the fireworks were starting. Dallas pushed to his feet and offered Dottie his hand. Maybe the simple gesture would keep her from pressing her body against his. Or maybe not, judging from the beaming smile on her face.

  Did holding hands signify something he didn’t know about? He really should’ve questioned his ma more about the workings of a woman’s mind. His younger sister probably had more wisdom in courting than he did.

  Dottie dragged him toward a quilt next to the one Annie shared with her beau. Dallas exchanged nods with McMurray, then lowered himself beside Dottie. Normally, he reclined back on his elbows. Not tonight. That would put him at the mercy of an unscrupulous woman.

  Chapter 15

  Annie sat with a straight posture next to Sean. What she wanted to do was wear her split skirt and recline back in a more comfortable position. The fireworks would start any second, and she already had a crick in her neck.

  The first riot of color exploded over the canyon. Sean inched his hand over Annie’s. She sighed and brushed a piece of lint from her dress, as if she hadn’t noticed. He scooted closer, and she shifted away. Obviously, the man thought their relationship was further along than she did. When his elbow connected with hers and she ran out of quilt, Annie rolled her eyes and decided to enjoy the fireworks show.

  After all, the man was a pastor. He wouldn’t get too forward, would he? She cut him a sideways glance. He was too close.

  “There’s a hayride after.” Sean’s breath tickled her ear. “Would you like a ride?”

  Her first instinct was to say no, but Dottie’s giggle drifted across the short distance, deciding for her. “Yes, thank you.”

  The fireworks lasted only a few minutes, but that was enough to raise Annie’s patriotic spirit. What a fine country they lived in. God had blessed their great land with freedom. Where a person could follow her dreams and become whatever she wanted. Annie glanced toward the dark canyon. Well, almost.

  She accepted Sean’s help to her feet. They’d taken two steps when Annie heard a cry, then a scream. She whirled.

  A woman fell to her knees at the edge of the canyon. “My boy! He’s fallen over. Help him, somebody, please.”

  Annie let go of Sean and hitched up her dress. He shot out a hand to stop her. “Wait, Annie. Let me.”

  “It’ll take all of us, Sean. If it’s not already too late.” She shook him off and continued, as Dallas shot past her.

  “Get some rope!” He pulled the woman away from the edge. “Someone care for this lady. Annie?”

  “The barn.” Annie gave Sean a shove. He nodded and dashed away.

  Annie gathered the distraught woman in her arms, until Mother arrived to take over. Once she was there, coaxing a cup of coffee into the other mother’s hands, Annie moved next to Dallas. “Thank God the moon is bright. Can you see him?”

  “Not yet. Could you gather some lanterns?” He dropped to his hands and knees, then his stomach, to peer over the edge. “It might not help much, but light seems to lift folks’ spirits.”

  If anyone could save the child, Dallas could. Annie had no doubt. She headed to the barn, spreading word about needing lanterns as she went. When she met Sean coming back, she took the rope from him and directed him into the house to collect every lamp he could find.

  She returned, to hand the rope to Dallas. “Anything?”

  “I’m not sure.” He scooted back and stood. “I think I see something white on a ledge.” He shook his head. “I don’t need to tell you what happened to that poor child if he missed a ledge.”

  Tears clogged her throat, but she couldn’t give in to them. Not yet. “Then we’ll pray he didn’t miss.” She gripped Dallas’s arms. “We’ll pray that he has nothing but minor injuries and is sitting there, waiting for you to save him.”

  Dallas gave a sad smile. “Know for a fact I’m the one to go, do you?”

  “There’s no one more qualified. No one stronger.” Realizing she’d stepped closer to him than was seemly, she moved back, her face heating. One deep breath from both of them and they would have brushed chests. What must he think of her? “God will help you.”

  “Oh, Dallas.” Dottie squeezed between them. “I’ve never been so frightened in my life. Please take me back to the hotel. I feel faint.”

  “Are you serious?” Annie crossed her arms. “A boy could be dying, and you’re afraid I’m getting too close to your beau. If you’re going to faint, there are still plenty of blankets on the ground.”

  “Wait.” Dallas held up his hand. “We aren’t—”

  Dottie spun to face Annie. “Maybe you should go back to yours!”

  “Everything all right here?” Sean set four lanterns on the ground at their feet. “Mr. Baker?”

  “We’re fine.” He bent and retrieved the lamps. “I could use some help shedding light, both physically and spiritually,
it seems.”

  “Sean and I will both help.” Annie glared at Dottie. “Go back to your room. You’re no help here.”

  The other girl opened and closed her mouth a few times, then finally snapped it shut. With a swish of her skirt, she stomped away. Good riddance. Annie shook her head. How could the girl be so selfish? A child might be dying, and there they stood arguing—no, fighting—over Dallas. Shame heated Annie’s face.

  What if their delay cost the child his life? She’d never be able to live with herself.

  By now, Dallas was tying the rope around his waist, as Sean and other men lit lanterns and placed them along the canyon edge. The lamps lit up the immediate area but did little to illuminate the expanse into which Dallas would have to lower himself. He grabbed another coiled rope and looped it over his shoulder. Three men held tight to one end of it.

  Dallas’s lips moved silently. The fact he prayed both lifted and lowered Annie’s hopes. He could be praying he found the boy alive or that the mother would be able to deal with her loss. Their chances of recovering anything other than a dead body, if they could recover it, were very slim.

  Sean and Pastor Carson called for everyone to join hands. “Father, we come to You, asking for Your guiding hand as Dallas steps over the ledge into the danger of the canyon. We pray for his protection and that of the young boy Billy. Please return the child to his mother and Dallas to us. In the name of Your son, Jesus, we pray. Amen.”

  * * *

  Dallas hung backward over the canyon edge while several men held the other end of the rope. This was it. His gaze clashed with Annie’s. He studied every line of her beautiful face, knowing very well it might be the last thing he ever saw.

  He accepted a lantern handed to him by Pastor Carson, flashed what he hoped was a reassuring grin at Annie, then slowly lowered himself over the rim, the men holding the other end feeding him the rope inch by inch.

  “Dallas.” Annie fell to her knees, bringing her face to the same level as his. “Please, be careful.”

  He wanted to draw her close for a kiss, feel her lips against his in case he never had another chance. He figured that would get him slapped the moment he stepped foot back on solid ground. “I will.” Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he continued to lower himself until her face was nothing but a pale blur above him.

  “Billy?” he called into the inky blackness. “I need you to talk to me, buddy. Tell me where you are.” Please, God, let him be able to speak. “Billy!”

  “I’m here, mister.” A voice, faint but unmistakable, came from Dallas’s lower right.

  “Don’t move, son. Keep an eye out for me. You’ll see me before I see you. Don’t let me pass you.”

  “I won’t.”

  With each rappel, the boy’s voice sounded clearer. Thank God he was alive. Now to keep him that way. “Are you hurt?”

  “My head is bleeding, and I think I broke my arm.”

  “How old are you?” Keep him talking; that’s what folks always did in these types of situations, right?

  “Ten. Today is my birthday. Ma is going to be furious. She told me to stay away from the edge, but I thought I was old enough for a better look.”

  Dallas chuckled, remembering all the times he’d disobeyed as a kid. None of them had turned out all right. In fact, several resulted in a switch across his bottom.

  He stopped on a narrow ledge about a hundred feet from the top. The boy sat pressed against the rock face, his arm cradled in his lap. “Son, I reckon your ma is going to hug you more than anything. She’s that worried.”

  Uncoiling the extra strand of rope, Dallas did his best to assess the situation in the dark. First off, they needed a sling for the boy’s arm. He doubted Billy could handle taking off his own shirt. It would hurt something fierce. So Dallas unbuttoned his own. People would have to accept him without his shirt for a few minutes. “I’m going to tie this around your arm. We’ll have to keep it as secure as possible. It won’t feel good when they drag you to the top, but there isn’t a lot of help for it.”

  “I can handle it.” The boy’s voice shook despite his brave words.

  “I’m sure you can, being a grown boy of ten.” Dallas’s foot slipped on a loose rock, reminding him how precarious their situation was. “Let’s get this tied around your waist.” He set the lantern against the cliff face, and then felt around the ground, realizing the ledge was maybe three to four feet wide. How in the world had the boy stopped on such a small bit of rock? Dallas’s fingers came into contact with a stick about two inches in diameter.

  “As tough as you are, son, you’ll still need to bite down on this.” Once the second rope was secured around Billy’s waist, Dallas jerked on it with two hands, his signal for them to pull the youngster to safety.

  Billy cried out with the first jerk. Hopefully, he wouldn’t pass out from the pain. The men above needed whatever help the poor boy could give them.

  Dallas leaned back to watch the child ascend. As he did so, his feet slipped.

  His arms windmilled and he fell backward into space. The rope cut into his waist, so sharply it knocked the air from his lungs. Dallas swung back and forth, then slammed against the rock face, headfirst. It seemed like an eternity before he stopped swinging.

  His heart beat hard enough that he heard it in his ears. He placed a hand on his forehead, where he’d hit the rocks, and took it away sticky. Wonderful. He had another wound for Annie to stitch. Of course, the bang on his head might be the least of his worries, especially since the rope wasn’t moving. What were the other men doing up there?

  He glanced up. The rope was wedged between two rocks. He tried getting traction on the canyon wall, but since the ledge hung over, his legs wouldn’t reach. He braced his feet against the cliff and pushed, swinging like a pendulum, angling his body so his back took the hits instead of his face. After what seemed like eons, the rope started to move. The sharp edge of the ledge rubbed the strands, and Dallas prayed they wouldn’t cut through. It was a long fall to the canyon floor, and he doubted a man his size would be lucky enough to find a ledge big enough to catch him.

  Inch by agonizing inch, he felt himself being pulled upward. He’d have plenty of scrapes and bruises when he arrived, and he couldn’t help but feel some pleasure at imagining Annie tending to him. Annie with her soft hands and fresh scent.

  He shook his head, then grimaced at the wooziness that assailed him. He must’ve hit his head harder than he’d thought. Finally, his shoulders cleared the canyon rim, and he was dragged over the top until he lay in the grass and pine needles.

  Annie rushed to his side, smoothing his hair back from his face. “You’re a hero, Dallas Baker. A true hero.” She looked at her fingers. “And you’re bleeding.”

  “Yep. Guess I am.” Dallas closed his eyes. “I’m going to sleep now.”

  “No, sir, you are not. Sean, help me get him to his feet.”

  He was tugged and pulled until he stood. The world spun as hands grappled at his waist, struggling to remove a rope cinched tight. “I’m done.” Dallas pitched face-first to the ground.

  Chapter 16

  Annie wiped a cool wet cloth across Dallas’s forehead, trying not to watch as Mother dabbed witch hazel on the scrapes across his rib cage and chest. Annie’s face burned. When Mother had told her she’d need her help tending to Dallas after the doc taped his broken ribs, she’d thought she would melt into the floor.

  Now, she struggled to avert her eyes from something she had no right to see. If she did drop her gaze from his face, Mother cleared her throat with the fierceness of a mountain lion. Annie let a small smile tug at her lips. Improper behavior and embarrassment or not, she’d managed a small glance. The sight had taken her breath away.

  “Go heat some water, Annie, and quit staring. The poor man isn’t on display at the mercantile. We�
�ll make him some tea.”

  Annie dropped her cloth into the porcelain bowl. She seriously doubted whether Dallas wanted tea. Coffee seemed to be his drink of choice.

  She headed down the stairs. Two men and a woman waited in front of the small reception counter. “May I help you?” Annie wiped her damp hands on her apron.

  “Ma’am.” A man in a bowler her stepped aside and waved the woman forward.

  “Thank you, sir. My name is Ellen Baker. I believe my son lives and works here?”

  Annie pressed her lips together to prevent her mouth from falling open. Since Dallas’s father had failed to bring him home, had the family sent his mother? “I’m Annie Rollins. We’re happy to have you. One moment and I will show you to your room.”

  Gracious. How would she ever tell her that her son lay upstairs unconscious?

  Mrs. Baker nodded. “I’ll wait in the parlor while you take care of these gentlemen. I’m in no hurry.” She hid a yawn behind a gloved hand. “The railroad ran late. Sorry to impose upon you at this advanced hour.”

  “It’s no trouble, Mrs. Baker.” As the woman moved to the parlor, Annie smiled and opened the registry book for the men to sign. Mother would be thrilled with the business. Two paying guests. Neither she nor Annie would consider letting Mrs. Baker pay for her room, though. “There we go.” She handed each of the men a key and directed them to their rooms.

  Taking a deep breath, she marched into the parlor, ready to tell Mrs. Baker about her heroic son and the subsequent injuries. Hopefully, she wouldn’t find the boardinghouse at fault.

  “Ma’am.” Annie twisted her apron.

  “Yes?” Mrs. Baker turned from the window.

  “Well, um, it’s about Dallas.” She bit her lip.

  “Is he no longer here? Has he headed back to Texas?” Mrs. Baker shook her head. “I was afraid his father might have used more force than necessary. I tell the man all the time that our sons need to find their own way in the world.”