Forgotten Honeymoon. Marie Ferrarella

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Forgotten Honeymoon - Marie Ferrarella


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      “They shot him. They shot my brother,” screamed Petula. She crawled over to him as his frock coat darkened with the spread of blood.

      “Don’t cry, Pet,” their rescuer whispered, motioning his sister to stay away. “Don’t come closer. I’ll be all right.” He crumpled and passed out.

      “Get some h-help, Daisy,” Sam pleaded from behind the counter.

      “I’m so relieved.” Daisy released a long breath of air, realizing both men still lived. “I thought you might have been... Just hang on, Sam. I’ll get Doc.”

      “He’s in town. Maybe at his office or M-Meg’s.” Sam paused and took a few breaths. “Sounds like her brother needs help quicker than I do. See if anyone else is hurt.” Pain filled his voice despite his words. “I...I can hold on.”

      “You sure?” She wanted to check and see for herself.

      “Do what you’ve got to do, Daisy. Quick.”

      “Yeah, let me up, Mama. I can’t breathe.”

      Daisy stood and helped her daughter stand. She examined Ollie for any sign of injury and found only minor scrapes from flying glass and splinters caused by the shotgun blast. Filled with relief, she lifted Ollie and hugged her so tightly the child complained again.

      “That’s enough, Mama. You keep squeezin’ me and I’m gonna be a goner for sure.”

      “It’s never enough, honey. Never.” Daisy pulled back and studied the tiny face one more time. She had to keep Ollie safe. This time. Every time. “You sure you’re not hurt anywhere?”

      She frowned. “Just where you hugged me.”

      Daisy set her down and stared squarely into eyes that mirrored her own. “Then do you think you can go find Doc for us? That way I can stay here and help do what I can until he gets here.”

      “My brother,” Petula stressed, kneeling beside him to rest his head in her lap. At the sight of his wound, her words became shrill. “Hurry, he’s all I have.” She brushed her hand across his brow and glanced up at Daisy, her eyes glazed with worry. “Make him stop bleeding.”

      “We’ll get help,” Daisy assured her then hesitated. Memories of the outraged citizens who told her about the hostage-taking rushed in to caution her. Someone outside might think she or Ollie had started the shooting. What if they decided to shoot first and then ask questions? She couldn’t take that chance. “Stay here, Ollie. Let me make sure it’s safe for you to go.”

      Daisy exited the bank and froze, waiting, looking. She had lost her husband to violence as he bled out on some needless battlefield where the opposing forces didn’t know a cease-fire had been called and the war ended. Tears she hadn’t shed when he died suddenly blurred the images before her now.

      She hadn’t been there and couldn’t have helped Knox, but their longtime friendship and practical marriage demanded that she love Ollie enough for the both of them and keep her safe always.

      That single clear thought stemmed the flow of Daisy’s tears and shook her out of her frozen panic.

      A crowd began to run this way and that, shouting words so fast that Daisy couldn’t determine who said what. Someone lay in the street wounded. Another man slumped over a water trough near the livery.

      The blacksmith, a bald giant of a man who often fished with Olivia, reached Daisy first.

      “Oh, Bear, I’m so glad it’s you.” Relief rushed through her. “We need help. There’s been a robbery. People are hurt.” She brushed the tears from her face, her voice breaking as she added, “O-Ollie’s inside.”

      Bear bolted past Daisy only to come to an abrupt halt when a tiny voice said, “No, I ain’t, Mama.”

      Daisy swung around to find Ollie reaching up to tug on her skirt.

      “You scared the hide off me, Widow.” Bear’s exhaled breaths looked as if he was pumping his bellows hard at the smithy. His brown gaze swept over his fishing partner from braids to kid boots. “I thought Tadpole had caught her last catfish.”

      “What are you doing out here, honey?” Daisy frowned. “I told you to wait inside until I was sure it was safe.”

      “But I heard ya cryin’, Mama. Are ya hurt?” Concern darkened Ollie’s eyes. “Ya didn’t give me time to see if ya got hurt.”

      Daisy bent and hugged her. She hadn’t even considered Ollie’s worry for her. Of course the poor baby feared losing another parent. “I’m fine, sweetheart, but I’d feel much better if you’ll stay with Bear until I’ve finished here.”

      Daisy offered an apology to the blacksmith for scaring him then added, “I don’t know where her uncles are today. I think they’ve gone boar hunting. Do you mind if she goes with you to get the—”

      Bear didn’t let Daisy finish the question. He grabbed the seven-year-old and lifted her onto his shoulders. “Don’t worry about Tadpole. We’ll find the sheriff then me and my missus will take care of her.” He motioned up the street. “Doc’s headed this way. He just came around the corner of the mercantile with some men.” His attention refocused on Daisy. “You sure you don’t want me to stay instead? Let you and Ollie go on home?”

      “I’m sure. There’s a lady inside. Her brother’s hurt, and she’s been through a lot. I think she needs another woman with her right now. Since this is our fault, I must stay.” Images of the violence threatened to return, but Daisy willed them away. “Ollie doesn’t need to see any more of this.”

      “Ahh, Mama. I can take it.” Ollie tried to sound tough. “Besides, that stranger’s talkin’ again. Says he needs you to come see to his sister. She’s white as Old Bessie’s milk and bawling like a calf that can’t find her mama.”

      “Go on.” Daisy shooed them away. “She’s probably just scared. I’ll check on her.”

      She watched her daughter’s honey-colored braids bounce against her back as the burly blacksmith trotted down the street. Assured that Ollie had a chaperone who wouldn’t let her get back into harm’s way, Daisy returned to the wounded inside.

      “Where is everybody?” Petula glanced up from fanning her brother. Fear and anger mixed to darken the blue of her eyes against her ashen face. “Didn’t you bring someone? He’s going to bleed to death.”

      “Now, Pet, she’s doing all she can.” His voice sounded weaker with each word. “I’m not the only one hurt.”

      Daisy hurried and bent down beside him, staring at the fistfighter’s face. Pale and splattered with blood, she couldn’t tell if it was from the wound in his shoulder or from something more. She took off her bonnet and pressed it over the shoulder trying to stem the flow. “Are you hurt anywhere else, sir?”

      “Just t-there,” he informed, staring at her as if he wanted to say more but didn’t have the strength.

      There was serious enough, she thought as she noticed his uninjured arm reaching out to his sister, patting her hand to reassure her. He seemed a truly caring soul, his love for his sibling stronger than his obvious pain.

      Daisy felt herself invisibly adding his qualities to Ollie’s list, then realized her foolishness. If he didn’t get better help soon he’d be no part of any list. He would bleed out on this floor. Daisy’s heart beat faster with another fervent prayer that he would survive. She needed to be able to thank him for saving her and Olivia’s lives.

      “Doc and a group of men are just a few businesses away.” She smiled trying to assure him that all would be well and the situation was firmly in hand. “They should be here any second.”

      “Just promise me,” he said, as his breaths became shallow and he looked as if he might lose consciousness again, “make sure my sister is taken care of. She doesn’t handle things like this well.


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