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Greyson told him everything that had happened since Morning Dove rode from the trees into his pasture. How she’d begged him to help them. When he’d looked him over and determined he needed a doctor, she’d rode all the way into town to get Doc Tibbens, even though she was in no condition to do so. She’d been so exhausted, the moment she made it back to the ranch with the doctor, she passed out and slept an entire day.
“She’s fine,” Greyson assured him. “Cassidy has been tending to her.”
He closed his eyes, willing his body to cooperate. As much as he wanted to go see for himself that Morning Dove was all right, he could barely move.
Greyson left with a promise to let Morning Dove know he was awake. He didn’t see her until long hours later. When she walked into the room, her steps were slow. Dark circles lay under her eyes like smudges against her skin, but the smile she gave him lit her entire face.
“Hey you.” He grinned and lifted an arm, holding it out to her. “Come here.”
She crossed the room as Ben moved over, trying not to grimace too much. Morning Dove slid onto the bed beside him and he wrapped his arm around her, sighing as he placed a kiss on her forehead.
Neither said anything for a long while, content to lie there in the stillness. So much had happened over the last week. He’d ridden so many miles, endured so many trials to get here. But he’d do it all over again for her.
He stroked a hand over her arm, laying his lips to her head. He’d dosed off when she whispered, “Walter is back.”
He blinked into the muted light filling the room.
Morning Dove shifted and lifted her head to look at him. “Doctor Tibbens told me this morning when he came by to check on us. He said Walter had a nasty wound but it should heal quickly.”
“Too bad.”
She grinned and laid her head back down on his shoulder. “He also said Walter insisted on seeing Marshal Lincoln.” She stilled, toying with the bandage on his chest. “Walter lied and told him you tried to kill him. He said nothing of me shooting him.”
“Did he mention to the Marshal he’d already put a bullet in me?”
She stiffened, her hand laying on his stomach knotting into a fist. “Yes, but he said it was self defense. That he shot you only after you shot him.”
Morning Dove raised up on her elbow. “I do not think Marshal Lincoln believed him, but wants to question you. Walter wanted you arrested and thrown in jail.” She rolled her eyes. “He said you could lay in a jail cell as well as you could here.”
Ben snorted, not sure why he was surprised. “And I suppose he painted himself out to be a saint?”
“Of course.” She looked toward the window, staring out through the sheer curtains. “He wants you to hang, Ben.”
“Again?” He smiled when she threw him an exasperated look. “The first time wasn’t enough for him?”
“Apparently not.” She laid her head back down on his shoulder. “Marshal Lincoln forbid us from leaving town. He wants to see us both when you are well enough to answer his questions.”
“Surely he doesn’t believe Walter.”
“I do not think he does, but he is the Marshal. He has to investigate what happened and get everyone’s side of the story.”
“In that case, I think you should give it to him.”
“I have already told him what happened.”
“All of it?” She glanced up at him. “Did you tell the good Marshal how you came to be with Walter?”
She lowered her eyes.
“Didn’t think so. Have you seen Walter?”
“No.”
“Then I think it's time to let Walter know he’s not the only one with something to lose here. He killed your family, Morning Dove, and has kept you against your will for a decade.”
“No one will care.”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
