Dangerous Men (Flynn Family Saga Book 2) (19 page)

Loman met him with a grin.  “Well?”

“It fits like a glove.”

Loman’s grin broadened.  “All right.  I’m going to
work you harder today.”  He swung at Flynn without warning.

Flynn tried to dance back out of the way, like he
used to, and fell.  The fall knocked the wind out of him, but he rolled to
avoid a kick with Loman’s wooden leg.  He realized suddenly that his leg wasn’t
just a liability.  It was also a potential weapon.  Grinning he stood up.  He
kicked out with his right leg.  Loman dodged it, but only barely.  He grinned
at Flynn and tackled him.

They fell together and rolled.  Flynn managed to
connect with Loman’s chin, and Loman’s head snapped back.  He retaliated, and
Flynn saw stars.  Loman held out his hand.  “Time!”

Flynn nodded, panting.

Loman got up and held out his hand.  Flynn ignored
the hand and got up unassisted.  He grinned.  “That felt good.”

“Getting hit?”

“No.  Being able to defend myself.”

Loman rubbed his jaw.  “Well, there’s nothing wrong
with your right arm.”

Flynn laughed.

Loman laughed with him.  He sobered slowly.  “You
caught on quick, Flynn.  Remember, men with two good legs are going to
underestimate you.  You can use that to your advantage.  Before you leave here,
I’m going to have you fight Jonas and a couple of the other fighters.  You’ll
learn what your weaknesses are.  But you’ll also learn about your strengths.”

Flynn nodded solemnly.  “Thanks, Loman.  For
everything.”

“Don’t thank me until you win your first real
fight.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Day after day, Maggie worked with Adonis.  Then, one
rainy afternoon, Pete Tanner rode up the trail.  Maggie's heart stopped.  She
turned and ran to the gate.  Pete dismounted and held out a yellow envelope. 
"Telegram for Miss Kate."

Maggie breathed a sigh.  Then, she ran to the house. 
Kate came out, drying her hands on her apron.  "Mama, there's a
telegram."

Kate came down the steps and took the envelope from
Pete's outstretched hand.  Her hands shook as she opened it.  She shut her eyes
briefly and opened them again.  "It's my cousin, Lois.  There's a smallpox
outbreak in her school."  She turned back toward the house.

Maggie took her arm.  "Mama, have you ever had
smallpox?"

Kate shook her head.

Maggie nodded.  "I'll go.  I had it when I
lived in Manhattan."

"Maggie—"

Maggie turned to her.  "If she's your cousin,
then she's family, Mama."

Kate shut her eyes again.  She drew Maggie close. 
"Thank you, Maggie.  You're the daughter I always wanted."

Maggie nodded, too moved to speak.

Sam drove Maggie to San Francisco in his old,
battered wagon.  He guided the wagon skillfully through the city's traffic
until they came to a tall, yellow building.  The sign said, "Lois Banks'
School for Young Ladies."

Maggie clutched her grandmother's medical bag
tightly.

Sam touched her shoulder.  "Are you sure you
want to do this?"

Maggie nodded, but fear gnawed at her.

Sam hugged her.  "You're my daughter, all
right.  Come back to us, Magpie."

Maggie nodded again, too scared to speak.  She
jumped down from the wagon and walked up the steps.  She knocked on the door.

A red-haired woman opened it.  She wore a white
linen handkerchief over her nose and mouth.  "This house is
quarantined."

Maggie swallowed hard.  "I know.  I'm Kate
Hamilton's daughter.  Her cousin Lois asked her to help."

The woman looked her up and down.  "And she
sent a child?"

Maggie straightened her spine.  "I'm
seventeen.  And I've nursed over a hundred people through cholera, typhus and
smallpox.  Now get out of my way."

The red-haired woman stepped back.  She pulled off
the handkerchief and smiled.  "I didn't know Miss Kate married an
Irishman."

"She didn't.  They adopted me.  I'm Maggie
O'Brien Anders.  Who are you?"

"I'm Clara Roarke.  I'm Mrs. Banks'
housekeeper."  Her smile faded.  "I'll show you to Mrs. Banks'
room."

Like Kate, Lois Banks had her rooms on the first
floor of her school.  There was a small sitting room and a bedroom.  The drapes
were drawn, and it was dark.  Maggie stepped into the room hesitantly. 
"Hello?"

A tall woman, with the same bone structure as Kate,
stepped into the light from the hallway.  Her face was unmarked. 
"Kate?"

"No, ma'am.  I'm Maggie."

Mrs. Banks frowned.  "The young orphan?"

Maggie sighed.  "I'm just small for my age. 
I'm seventeen, and I've had a lot of experience nursing people through smallpox. 
More importantly, I had it when I lived in Manhattan.  So I should be
immune."

Lois Banks nodded slowly.  "I was just
surprised that an adopted child would risk her life for a stranger."

Maggie smiled and shook her head.  "You're
Kate's cousin.  You're family."

Mrs. Banks smiled warmly.  "Thank you for
coming, Maggie."  Her smile faded swiftly.  "But I don't know if you
can do much good."

"Let me look at the patients before we give up
on them."  Maggie picked up the black medical bag.

Mrs. Banks smiled again.  "I see that
everything Kate wrote about you is true.  The girls are upstairs.  Clara will
take you."

Clara led the way up the stairs to the dormitory. 
Maggie smelled the stench of sickness before they reached the first landing. 
Maggie drew a deep breath and climbed to the second floor.

Clara led the way to a room that looked out over the
street.  A young girl with dark brown hair lay huddled on her bed.  "This
is Nora.  She was the first girl to get sick with it."

Maggie opened the drapes.

Nora cried out in pain, and Maggie pulled the drapes
shut again.  She lit a lantern instead and shaded it with her hand.

Her heart skipped a beat.  The girl's face was
covered with lesions the size of quarters, and her eyes were crusted with
smallpox.

Maggie turned to Clara.  "Can she swallow
anything?"

Clara shook her head.  "Just a little
tea."

"Do you have any ice in the house?"

Clara nodded.

"Chill the tea over ice.  Put plenty of sugar
in it.  I'll check on the other patients while you're gone."

Clara didn't argue.  She turned and walked back down
the stairs.

Maggie went into the next room.  It was just as dark
as Nora's.  She went over to the bed.

The girl was cold to the touch.

Maggie's throat tightened.  She covered the girl
with her blanket and murmured the prayer for the dead she had learned as a
child.  Then she went on to the next room and the next.

Three more girls were dead.  Maggie's eyes filled
with tears as she covered their ravaged faces.  She climbed to the third
floor.  All of the girls were still breathing, but they were desperately ill. 
Maggie sighed and walked to the end of the corridor.  In the last room, a girl
thrashed back and forth in her bed.  Her hair was blonde, but the lesions were
just as large as Nora's.  At least they hadn't affected her eyes.  Maggie
smoothed back her hair.  "Easy, easy.  It's going to be all right."

The girl's eyes opened.  They were the deepest shade
of blue she'd ever seen.  "Who are?  What are you doing in my room?"

"My name is Maggie, and I'm here to help.  How
long have you been sick?"

"I don't know."  She sat up suddenly and
groped for a mirror.  She held it in front of her face and gasped.  "Am I
going to be scarred?"

Maggie hesitated.  "It's too soon to tell.  Lie
back now.  Clara will bring you something cool to drink."

"Don't let that fish-eater near me!"  The
girl turned back to Maggie.

"That's an ugly word for someone who has been
risking her own life to look after you."  Maggie's hand curled into fists
at her sides.  She remembered her first day at school and Tommy Miller's fat
face as he chanted the same ugly words.

The blonde girl shrugged.  "Don't you know who
I am?"

Maggie shook her head.

"I'm Elizabeth Barclay.  My father owns most of
this town and the surrounding land."

"Well I'm Maggie O'Brien Anders, and if you
want to get better, you'd better stop acting like a brat."  Maggie turned
and left the room.  She slammed the door behind her.  She heard the sound of
smashing glass as the mirror struck the door.

Clara shook her head.  "I see you've met her
highness, Miss Elizabeth Barclay."

Maggie shrugged.  "She's the one who just got
seven years of bad luck."

Clara started to laugh.  She laughed until the tears
ran down her face.  "Maggie O'Brien Anders, I think I'm going to like
you.  That's the first time I've laughed since Nora got sick."

"Is she your daughter?"

"Goodness, no.  But she's a sweet child.  Her
father makes music boxes, and she gave me one for Christmas."  Clara wiped
her eyes.  "Well, tell me what you need."

"Do you have milk?"

Clara nodded.

"Oranges?"

Again, Clara nodded.

"Good.  They won't be able to swallow solid
food for a while.  Brew lots of tea and chill it.  That will help with the
lesions on their throats."  Maggie drew a deep breath.  "The girls in
the rooms between Nora and Elizabeth are—are gone."

Clara shut her eyes and crossed herself.  "When
Mr. Ned comes, I'll ask him to send the undertaker."

Maggie shook her head.  "No.  Even dead, they
can spread the disease.  Is there a doctor who might know how to dispose of
their bodies safely?"

Clara shook her head.  "None that would come
here."

Maggie sighed.  "Then I'll have to get word to
my father.  He has dealt with smallpox before."

Clara nodded.  "I think Mrs. Banks is very
lucky to have you as a relative."

Maggie smiled wanly.  "We'll see if you still
feel that way when this is over."

Maggie worked through the night.  She stopped in
Mrs. Banks room last.

Lois lay on her bed.  There were red marks on her
face.

"Mrs. Banks?"  Maggie's shook slightly.

Lois didn't answer.  Her head twisted back and forth
on the damp pillow.  Maggie did what she could for her, and then, empty and
drained, she went in search of the kitchen.

The cook handed her a cup of coffee.  "Here,
Miss.  Clara says you've been up all night."

Maggie nodded.  She took the china cup gratefully.

Someone pounded on the back door.  "Mrs.
Flannigan, I know you're in there."

The cook sighed.  "That's Ned Gage, Miss Nora's
brother.  He comes every day to see if we need anything.  Don't worry.  I leave
the door on the chain."

Maggie nodded.  She set down her cup and opened the
door.  "Good morning."

A tall young man with hair the same color as Nora's
blinked at her.  "Who are you?"

"Maggie Anders.  I'm Mrs. Banks' cousin.  You
must be Ned."

He nodded.  "Ned Gage.  How is my sister?"

Maggie hesitated.  "She is very ill, Mr.
Gage."

Ned shut his eyes briefly.  Then, he opened them and
smiled.  "Nora's a fighter.  She'll pull through.  Do you need
anything?"

Maggie nodded.  "Fruit.  Milk.  And ice.  Every
day if you can manage it.  Oh, and iodine and boric acid."

Ned frowned.  "Where will I get those?"

"Try an apothecary.  Or a doctor."

Ned's frown deepened.  "What do you need them
for?"

Maggie hesitated.  "Nora's eyes have been
affected.  The boric acid might save her vision."

Ned's eyes widened.  "Are you a doctor?"

"Not exactly, but I treated the people on my
father's wagon train.  When we had a cholera epidemic, I only lost one in
twenty."

Ned whistled.  "That's dam—darned good.  During
the epidemic here we lost nearly half."

Maggie yawned.  "I'm sorry.  I was up all
night."

Ned nodded.  "Get some rest, Miss Anders.  I'll
get your supplies for you."

"Thank you, Mr. Gage.  And Mr. Gage?"

"Yes?"  He turned back to her.

"Please ask my father to find an undertaker who
knows how to handle smallpox.  Four of the girls are gone."  Maggie's
voice broke.

Ned tried to reach through the crack in the door to
comfort her.

Maggie shook her head and stepped back.  "It's
not safe for you to touch anything in this house, Mr. Gage."  She drew a
deep breath.  "My father's name is Sam Anders.  He's staying at the
boarding house on Fulton Street near the park."

Ned nodded.  "I'll tell him, Miss Anders."

*  *  *

Day after day, Ned Gage came to the back door of the
school with supplies.  Finally, one day, he asked, "Why are you doing
this?"

And Maggie found herself telling him the story of
her life.  "When my father came home from the war, he was... different. 
He drank a lot.  When he got consumption, my mother and moved to my
grandfather's farm."  She smiled at the memory.  "I loved it there. 
My grandfather taught me how to train horses."

"You train horses?"  Ned looked shocked.

Maggie sighed.  "Yes.  And people.  For my
father's wagon train.  Only next year, it will be mine.  Mine and Flynn's. 
We're getting married."

Ned sighed.  "I envy you."

Maggie blinked.  "You envy
me
?"

Ned nodded.  "I've never done anything
interesting or exciting in my life."

Maggie thought about the night she killed the
Vaughns.  "Exciting isn't always...comfortable.  Or nice."

"But it's worthwhile, isn't it?"  Ned's
brown eyes met her steadily.

Maggie nodded slowly.  "Yes, it is."

Ned smiled sadly.  "Maybe, someday, I'll do
something worthwhile."

Maggie tilted her chin up.  "Ned Gage, you've
already done something worthwhile."

He blinked.  "What?  What have I done?"

"You risk your life every day to bring us
supplies.  And thanks to you, the girls are getting better."

Ned drew a deep breath.  "Thank you,
Maggie."  He turned to go, stopped and turned back to her.  "Flynn is
a very lucky man."  Then, he turned and walked away.  His boot heels
echoed in the empty street.

Maggie sat down at the kitchen table and poured
herself a cup of tea.  Clara came into the kitchen and sat down beside her. 
"Penny for your thoughts, Miss Maggie."

Maggie sighed.  "I never thought about whether
my life was worthwhile or not.  I just...lived it."

Clara laughed gently.  "People who think about
it usually end up making a mess of things.  It sounds like you've done all
right, in spite of your troubles."

Maggie smiled and nodded.  "I've got a good
life."  She sighed again.  "I just hope Nora has a chance to have a
good life, too."

"How is she today?"

Maggie shook her head.  "Not good, Clara.  Not
good at all."

After breakfast, Maggie went upstairs to check on
her patients.

Nora's breath gurgled in her chest.

***

Flynn walked into the boarding house just as Sam
arrived.  He frowned.  "Checking up on me?"

Sam shook his head solemnly.  "No.  Kate's
cousin has a boarding school.  The girls have smallpox.  Maggie is looking
after them."

"No!"  Flynn's hands curled into fists. 
"Sam, are you crazy?  She could die!"

"Easy, son.  Easy."  Sam laid his hand on
Flynn's shoulder.  "She had smallpox when she was a kid.  She'll be all
right."

Flynn looked away.  "I hope so."