The Legacy Read online

  “Cup your hands.”

  Finley held out shaking hands and Noah poured some water onto the calloused palms.

  “Put some water on your face and take some deep breaths.”

  Finley slowly rubbed the cool liquid on his forehead and cheeks. Noah filled the tin cup on the desk, figuring any leftover coffee in the bottom wouldn’t be noticeable to the other man. Nicky had taught Noah how to treat wounds and medical problems, like shock. It had helped more than once out on the range when a cowboy needed attention.

  Noah handed him a cup, and Finley stared down into its depths. After about five minutes, he stopped trembling. Noah kept his tongue in check until he figured the other man was ready to talk. It wouldn’t be much longer.

  “My sheep are innocent. They don’t deserve this.” Finley looked up at Noah with anger in his light blue eyes.

  “I agree with you, Finley. I’m working on stopping it. It’s going to be dangerous and I need to know you’re not going to pack up and run.” Noah squatted down so they were eye to eye.

  “What is more dangerous than what I am doing right now? Each day I wake up and wonder how many sheep I will have, or if I will wake up.” Finley nodded. “I will do whatever you need me to do.”

  ———

  The moon streamed through the open window as the blue curtains fluttered in the sweet evening breeze. Rosalyn snuggled up next to Noah and kissed his chest. Life had never been so wonderful for her. She had a man who loved her, true friends, and more than that, a future. She closed her eyes and sighed, drifting off with the man she loved beneath her cheek.

  The next thing she knew, she was gasping for air as her eyes stung and she smelled smoke. Noah was no longer in the bed with her.

  “Noah?” She coughed and sat up, her head swimming. Everything seemed unfocused and dark.

  Noah appeared in a blur on the floor beside the bed. “The jail’s on fire,” he shouted, then coughed like an invalid. “We need to get out of here as soon as possible.”

  Rosalyn could hardly see him through the smoke. It must’ve been daylight because patches of light poked through the clouds around them. It was early though, probably near dawn. Orange flames licked the window, leaving black splotches behind.

  “We have to go down the stairs.” He yanked the blanket off the bed.

  “Wrap this around you.”

  Rosalyn tried to stand, but dizziness landed her back on the bed. Noah wrapped the blanket around her head, then dumped water from the pitcher on her. She gasped at the cold.

  “Cover your mouth, sweetheart. I don’t know if this is going to work, but we’ve got to get out of here.” He kissed her hard. “I love you.”

  Rosalyn tried to speak but her throat burned too badly.

  “Ready?” Noah helped her to her feet.

  She nodded. He dumped the rest of the water on his head and they started toward the door. The floor felt heated and small hisses of smoke escaped through the floorboards. Rosalyn heard cracks and pops as the building burned beneath them and around them. She’d never felt so scared in her life.

  Noah put his hand on the door and pulled back quickly. “It’s warm, but not hot. There’s no other way out, Rosie, we’ve got to.”

  Rosie.

  He’d never called her that before, and her heart hiccupped when he did. Elsa had started calling her that, but Noah doing it was more than sweet, it was perfect. Rosalyn could have kicked her own ass for turning into a mushy fool when they were fighting for their lives. Still, she snatched the small moment and held onto it tight.

  Noah opened the door and a rush of heat made her eyelashes curl. She buried her head against his shoulder and hung on. They walked out onto the stairs and she peered over his shoulder. Black smoke curled up with sparks of orange and red. It looked like the bowels of hell and they had to get through it to survive.

  He grabbed her hand and started down one step at a time. Rosalyn kept the blanket across her mouth and nose, breathing in small snatches of wet wool. By the time they were halfway down, the heat was intense, the sound of the fire like a roaring monster below. Fear raced through her, fear she’d lose her own life or even worse, she’d lose Noah.

  She gripped Noah’s hand, her nails digging into his skin. When they were almost at the bottom, he slipped. Rosalyn kept hold of his hand, hanging on with every ounce of her strength, nearly wrenching her arm from the socket. He regained his footing and glanced at her through the smoke, mouthing “thank you”. She told him with her eyes that she loved him, and amazingly enough, he seemed to understand.

  When they reached the foot of the stairs, the crackling of the fire was deafening. Rosalyn could hardly see the door through the smoke and flames. They started forward and something pushed at her back, then the floor rushed up to meet her.

  “Rosie! Oh my God.” Noah kicked the beam off her, then used the wet blanket to beat the flames licking at her. At the same time he beat back his panic. He hadn’t expected the building to collapse so quickly and certainly not on top of her. She was not dead—she couldn’t be.

  Rosalyn was alive, just had the wind knocked out of her. Noah would not accept she was anything but unconscious. The fire around them was hot enough to make his skin feel like it was already sizzling. His lungs burned so badly, he tried to hold his breath until he felt dizzy. When he finally dragged in a breath, he coughed so hard, he got a stitch in his side. He had to get out of there fast.

  Noah wrapped her in the blanket and dragged her across the floor on his knees. He saw the door but it seemed to be a million miles away. When the flames got closer, Noah crawled faster. His knees screamed in agony from the heat of the wood and the splinters embedding themselves in his skin. The palm of his left hand blistered and popped but he ignored the pain. He would not die in a fire, nor would he let the woman he loved die because of him.

  A bright shaft of light stung his eyes, and a gust of wind fanned the flames around him.

  “Noah?”

  He was imagining things, he had to be. The voice had sounded exactly like his father, Tyler.

  “Where are you, boy?”

  Noah coughed and sucked in too much smoke again. He choked and continued crawling, sure he was about to die. Rosalyn, however, had to live, no matter what. He’d get her out of that damn building even if he was burning like a torch. Noah had set out to help her, now he needed to save her life.

  When he was ten feet from the door, a pair of boots stepped up beside him. It took too much effort to look up, so he kept on crawling, towing Rosalyn behind him.

  “Her feet are smoking, Noah.”

  The boots stepped away and Noah finally got a breath of fresh air from the open door. He was so close. Just another five feet until they were free.

  The boots were back and the man wearing them squatted beside him.

  “Noah, let me help you.”

  Noah looked up into the blue eyes of his adopted father, Tyler Calhoun. A bit of gray mixed with the black hair around the temples and some wrinkles beside his ice blue eyes were the only changes in the last ten years. He was still as big, hard and fierce as ever.

  On any other day, Noah would be surprised to see him. However, the day seemed to be in another world than the usual, which meant anything could happen. Since he hadn’t contacted his parents in a long time, they didn’t know where he was therefore he must be imagining things. It didn’t matter, he’d take help from wherever he could get it, even mirages.

  “Got…to…get…her…out. Love…her…Pa.” Noah made it to the door and out onto the sidewalk.

  He kept going, dragging Rosalyn behind him until they were both out onto the hard-packed dirt in the street. He lay on his back, sucking in gulps of air until he felt even more lightheaded. Noah heard the bells of the fire brigade and people shouting. Then his father appeared above him again, shaking his head.

  “Trouble seems to follow us, doesn’t it?” He glanced at Rosalyn. “This your lady?”

  “Rosalyn,” Noah whisp
ered.

  When his mother, Nicky, floated into his vision, he knew he was dying. A frown marred the peach-colored freckled face, while green eyes danced with concern. Her reddish brown hair swung from a long braid beneath her flat-brimmed hat.

  “Looks like we got here just in time.”

  Noah tried to laugh but it was more of a squeak. He was either dying or he’d lost his mind. Why would his parents be there? Hell, they didn’t know where he was—he’d deliberately kept it that way.

  Nicky cupped his cheek and the feel of her familiar hand brought a tear to his eye. God how he missed her.

  “We’ll take care of you and your lady. Don’t worry.”

  He shut his eyes and gave into the blackness closing around him.

  ———

  Cool water trickled over his face, pulling him from the pit that had swallowed him. He blinked and focused on the face above his. After a minute, he realized he was looking at his mother.

  “Ma?”

  Nicky frowned fiercely but he could see relief in her eyes. “Welcome back.”

  Noah looked around at an unfamiliar room. He tried to sit up and a coughing fit hit. As he struggled for breath, she rubbed his back until the spasms passed. After he was able to breathe again, he recognized the room as the upstairs of the saloon, if he wasn’t mistaken. He heard voices, glasses clinking and laughter somewhere in the building.

  “Where’s Rosalyn?” His scratchy voice didn’t even sound like him.

  “She’s over at the restaurant with a woman named Elsa.” Tyler stepped into his line of vision. “Tough little thing, almost knocked me on my ass.”

  “Is she okay?” Noah wanted to shake them for keeping him waiting.

  “I’m not sure.” Nicky took his hand in hers. “The doctor refused to see her. He treated you but that’s because apparently you’re the sheriff.”

  “The sheriff thing was a surprise.” Tyler’s blue gaze searched Noah’s for answers. “I’d be mighty curious to hear about it.”

  “I’ll tell you the whole story when I can take a breath without coughing. Water.” He pointed to the pitcher.

  Nicky brought him a cup of water and he drank it in small sips, savoring the cool liquid on his burning throat. His guts churned with anger for the way Rosalyn was still being treated. That damn doctor was about to realize that he couldn’t treat people like dogs and get away with it.

  Not while Sheriff Noah Calhoun was on the job.

  He sat up and swung his legs to the side of the bed. A wave of dizziness made him grip the covers to stay upright.

  “Where the hell are you going?” Tyler frowned, all six foot two of him. Noah might have backed down a few years ago, but not now.

  “I’m going to make that fucking doctor treat her or throw the bastard in jail.” He stood slowly, sucking in a breath at the pain in every square inch of his body.

  “The doctor said you need to stay in bed for a couple of days,” Nicky observed. “I don’t think you’re going to listen, are you?”

  “Not to one word that idiot said.” He met her gaze. “This town treats Rosalyn so badly it makes me—”

  “I got that already.” She touched his arm. “We’ll do what you want us to, but remember, you’re not alone. Your family is here.”

  His family. They’d proved themselves countless times to be his family, that they loved and supported him. Noah had kept a part of himself tucked away from the Calhouns and Malloys. He owed them an apology but that would have to wait. Now he needed to focus on Rosalyn and making sure she was okay.

  Noah hugged his mother quickly, surprised to feel a tremor run through her. Nicky had always been the toughest, roughest woman he’d ever known, and the most loving. Never gave an inch, never backed down.

  “You might want to wash.” She touched his cheek and brought back a blackened hand.

  Tyler snorted and shook his head. “Wouldn’t do any good for your lady to see you looking like a raccoon.”

  Noah hobbled over to the basin and stared at the reflection in the mirror above the bureau. His hair was as black as his face, only the whites of his eyes were visible. His clothes were covered with small holes and tears. He couldn’t even begin to start listing all the places that hurt because the one that hurt the most was his heart.

  He had to get to Rosalyn.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rosalyn heard voices around her. They were mumbling or maybe she just couldn’t hear what they said. Her head hurt and the more she tried to listen, the worse the pain got. So she stopped trying. Instead, she thought about Noah, then she remembered the fire.

  Her heart thumped as she realized he could be dead. She could be lying here and the sounds she heard could be people getting his body ready for burial. Rosalyn cried out soundlessly in protest. Noah could not be dead. Not when she’d just found him. God couldn’t be that cruel.

  The way she figured it, He owed her and she aimed to collect by getting to keep Noah Calhoun from here on out. Rosalyn forced her eyes open and had trouble seeing anything. Her eyes stung like somebody had rubbed salt in them. It was all blurry at first, then she was able to distinguish the window in her room. She was at Elsa’s in her own bed. The voices belonged to Elsa and Marina.

  “Rosie?” Elsa loomed over her. “You’re awake. Thank Mary and all her good nature.”

  Marina appeared with a small smile. “You had us worried there for a while. After the doctor—I mean, we did the best we could but you sucked in a lot of smoke.”

  It hurt to breathe so Rosalyn sucked in little bits of air at a time.

  “N-N-Noah?” she managed to squeak out.

  “He’s over at the saloon in one of the upstairs rooms.” Marina patted her hand. “His parents arrived yesterday during the fire. He was right about his mama. She’s a fierce woman and that husband of hers…”

  Elsa harrumphed. “He’s as big as a brick wall, that ex-bounty hunter. I ain’t afraid of him.”

  Noah’s parents were there? How had that happened? Had he telegraphed them? Elsa’s body felt like she’d been trampled by horses and each deep breath was agony.

  “You need to sleep, honey.” Elsa patted her cheek. “Don’t you worry about a thing now. You and Noah survived. The jail didn’t but nobody got killed and that’s what’s important.”

  Rosalyn didn’t care about the jail, she just wanted to see Noah, to touch him and make sure he was okay. She pleaded with her eyes because talking made her throat feel as if she’d swallowed the fire.

  “I’ll go check on him, okay?” Marina offered.

  Rosalyn nodded, grateful again for finding friends who would help her. She’d lived so long all alone, the bounty of having a family, even if they weren’t really related, was more than she’d ever imagined.

  ———

  Noah stumbled into the doctor’s office and gripped the doorframe. Dr. Ramsey glanced up in surprise from his chair next to the window. A book dropped from his lap as he stood.

  “Sheriff Calhoun, what are you doing out of bed? I told your parents—”

  “You refused to treat Rosalyn Benedict,” Noah ground out.

  “Well, yes, I see paying patients and that girl is nothing but street trash, no matter what you think, without two pennies to rub together.”

  Dr. Ramsey brought himself up to his full height of five foot six and stuck his nose so high in the air, Noah could see clear up to his walnut-sized brain.

  “Rosalyn is my future wife, Doc. Now I suggest unless you want to be arrested and spend a few days locked in Elsa’s cellar, that you get your sorry ass over there and treat her wounds.” Noah pulled the gun from the holster his father had had to help him put on. He cocked the pistol and aimed it at the doctor. “Now.”

  Doctor Ramsey glanced between Noah and his parents behind him and fear replaced the superiority in his beady eyes. No doubt Nicky and Tyler stood with their legs spread, arms crossed or better yet, hovering over their own pistols. Noah would say one thing for his family, the
y knew how to be menacing.

  “Fine then, but I expect to be paid or I’ll take it up with the mayor.” He stepped over to the corner and picked up his medical bag.

  A gold coin flew across the room and slapped the doctor in the chest. He squealed and jumped a foot in the air. Noah had to bite his lip to stifle the chuckle at the man’s reaction.

  “There’s your money, you windbag. Now get your ass over to Elsa’s,” Tyler growled from behind Noah.

  The doctor picked up the twenty-dollar gold piece and tucked it in his pocket. Noah’s opinion of the greed that ran rampant in the town was confirmed again. Give a man enough money and he’d sell his soul for more.

  They headed over to Elsa’s as quickly as Noah could walk. Halfway there, his mother took his arm in hers and half-supported him. He couldn’t even say thank you, he was so afraid he’d fall on his face if he tried.

  When they arrived, Marina was just walking outside. She smiled when she saw Noah, then frowned after realizing Nicky was supporting him. Her dark eyes clouded with concern.

  “You shouldn’t be out of bed, Noah,” Marina admonished.

  “Marina, these are my parents, Nicky and Tyler Calhoun. This is Marina Fuerte, she owns the saloon.” Noah’s vision started to gray and suddenly he was scooped up in his father’s arms.

  Tears blurred his eyes at being held by the very man he wanted to be. Tyler Calhoun had given him a new life and Noah loved him fiercely.

  “Where is she?” Tyler barked at Marina.

  Nicky frowned at her husband. “Nice to meet you, Marina. Could you tell us where Rosalyn is?”

  Marina led the group of them inside and up the stairs, with Doctor Ramsey bringing up the rear. Noah floated in and out of consciousness as Tyler carried him, seemingly without effort, up an entire flight of stairs. When they made it to Rosalyn’s bedroom, Tyler laid Noah down on the bed as gently as he would have a babe.

  Rosalyn’s scent surrounded him and Noah groped for her hand. She was warm and alive beside him. Thank God. She coughed and Noah turned to look at her, shocked by how red and blistered her face was, but her eyes were open and she was alive.