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“Greenfield?” Della asked.
He nodded.
“Is this the gal that saved your life last winter?”
He nodded again, never taking his eyes off the privy door.
“The girls will be taking breakfast down to the jail in a few minutes. Why don’t you go on down there? I’ll see to Florie.”
“No, I should—”
“Cord,” Della said sternly. “I saw her run across the yard. She’s going to be fine. I know what to do. I’ll send the girls if I need something. You go on now.” Della pushed him toward the house. “You can come back in an hour or so, she’ll be ready to see you then.”
His heels dug in the dirt. “I—”
“I promise she’ll be fine.”
He’d felt this way once before when told to leave Florie. He’d had to, then, known it was the best, but now—
Della waved both hands, shooing him toward the house. “Trust me, Cord. You need to leave. Go see to your prisoners.”
Cord ran a hand through his hair. It was hell, this thing tearing inside him.
His spine stiffened. He didn’t know much about women, but he did know outlaws, and right now he did have a few questions to ask the Winter brothers. If they were the cause of her bruised cheek, those boys had better pray the escort to take them back to Missouri arrived today.
The muffled voices faded, no longer mingled with the ringing of her ears, and thankfully her trembles had quelled. Florie took a deep breath, fueling the courage to face Cord, and opened the privy door.
A woman stood before her. “Good morning, Florie. I’m Della. My daughters and I live next door.”
An eerie sensation gripped Florie’s spine. Cord was nowhere in sight. Just the woman. She was quite pretty. Her fair hair had streaks of crimson and brown and was pinned fashionably high on her head, and her bright green eyes shimmered happily.
“Hello,” Florie answered hesitantly.
“Cord had to head down to the jail.”
“Oh?” Florie stammered, measuring the distance to the back door of Cord’s house. Her legs felt frail, but she thought she could make it.
“Yes,” Della said, glancing at Florie’s very old and very rumpled skirt. “Having those Winter boys behind bars has kept both him and Spencer busy.”
The howling inside Florie’s head caught her off guard. She reached for the side of the privy. “Winter boys,” she slurred. “Behind bars?”
“Yes.” Della sounded miles away. “They’ve been there a couple days now.”
The sunshine above, the green grass below and the fuzzy outline of Della all merged together and then disappeared.
When Florie opened her eyes, she was lying on a long settee, surrounded by screened walls. The poignant scent of vinegar filled her nose and stung her eyes like boiling lye. She cringed and turned away from the smell, gasping for fresh air.
“Sorry,” Della said, “I know it’s strong, but you’ve been out so long.”
“Out?” Florie rubbed at the dull ache in her temples.
“Yes, you passed out. The girls helped me carry you into the sitting porch.”
Two young girls, maybe twelve or thirteen years old, peered through an open doorway that led into the house. They grinned. Florie attempted to respond, but her mind kicked in. Junior’s brothers were in Cord’s jail.
Florie pushed up, but stopped as her head spun.
“Wow, slow down there, girl.” Della took an arm, easing her upright. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”
“I don’t know.” Florie recalled the apple she’d taken from Cord’s table last night, but couldn’t remember eating it. “Day before yesterday, maybe.”
“Well, here, nibble on this toast.” Della set a small table within reach. “There’s tea to go with it.”
“Water’s ready for her bath, Ma,” one of the girls said.
“Thank you, honey.”
“I have the Marshal’s meals ready,” the other girl announced.
“Go ahead and wrap them up. You can drop them off on your way to school,” Della answered, handing Florie a china cup.
Trying to think beyond the chatter, Florie took a sip, but instantly wished she’d declined the tea. The warm liquid flowed into her empty stomach like a morning milking hitting the bottom of the bucket. She bit into the toast, hoping to calm the sloshing.
It didn’t help.
She swallowed quickly, attempting to force everything back down.
“Oh, goodness,” Della exclaimed, shoving an empty pot in front of Florie just in time.
There wasn’t much to expel, but her stomach convulsed several times, and when it ended, tears dripped from her eyes.
