Free Whirlwind Groom by Debra Cowan

seen Andrew settled with Miguel Santos, the nephew of the telegraph operator. He had also completed his nightly walk through town. It was a few minutes past eleven and all was quiet.
    Jake was at the jail guarding McDougal and Davis Lee was free to head for his small house behind Haskell’s that had been provided by the town. Instead, he stood in the street staring at the soft lamp glow in an upstairs window of the Whirlwind Hotel.
    When he had returned with the things Catherine wanted, Josie hadn’t looked any better. He wanted to check on her one last time, knew he wouldn’t sleep until he did.
    Using the key Penn had given him so he could keep an eye on the hotel if he heard something after-hours, Davis Lee let himself in, moonlight marking his way to the corner of the registration desk. He lit the candle always kept there by the old man and carried it upstairs to Josie’s room.
    Mindful of the other guests, he rapped softly with one knuckle. When there was no response, he knocked. Nothing.
    He tried the door and found it unlocked, pushing it open to peer into the room. “Catherine?”
    But it wasn’t Catherine in the chair beside Josie’s bed. It was Esther Wavers. The lamp on the bedside table threw a warm blanket of light around the room and Davis Lee stepped over to pinch out the candle on the dresser.
    Josie was in bed, the blanket on the floor, the sheet down around her ankles. A splint braced her lower left leg and he saw the white gleam of the bandages Catherine had applied over the poultice. At the same time he registered that Josie wore only her chemise and drawers, his attention moved tothe older woman who hadn’t reacted to his arrival. “Esther?”
    He walked to the bed, his attention snagged on the dark hair spread like sable silk across Josie’s pillow. Smoky yellow light slid over her, tucking shadows between her breasts, her legs. Her gossamer-light undergarment fit close to her body, the flush of fever evident even in the muted light.
    Davis Lee dragged his gaze to Esther, concerned that something was wrong. The older woman slumped in the chair, head bowed, hands resting loosely on a water-filled basin in her lap. The steady rise and fall of her chest told him that she was asleep. Relief that she wasn’t dead or unconscious mixed with a surge of irritation. What good was she doing this way?
    Josie made a low, ragged sound, her breath catching in a way that had him turning. He was startled to realize she was crying in her sleep.
    â€œEsther?” He kept his voice quiet and calm, reaching down to take the tilting bowl from her lap.
    Moving fitfully, Josie threw a protective arm across her face. He eased down onto the edge of the bed.
    Esther snuffled softly and his jaw tightened. He bumped the washbasin into her knee.
    â€œHuh?” She jerked awake, blinking rapidly then squinting at him. “Oh. Sheriff?”
    â€œWhere’s Catherine?” he asked tightly.
    She covered a yawn, her voice scratchy with sleep. “Pearl Anderson’s daughter-in-law finally went into labor and there was a problem. Pearl asked Catherine to come so I told her I’d stay with Josie.” Her gaze went to the bed, no doubt seeing the distress in Josie’s face and body that Davis Lee saw. Guilt darkened the older woman’s eyes and she snapped straight in her chair. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Is she worse?”
    â€œI don’t know,” he said evenly. “Was she like this the last time you remember?”
    â€œYes.” She nodded, her wilted bun wiggling loosely on top of her head.
    â€œDo you know what time that was?”
    â€œNo.”
    Josie made more of those choppy sobbing noises. A hardboiled knot lodged in his chest. Was she dreaming or in pain? Catherine had said she might be disoriented, not that she might be delirious. It had to be due to the fever. He placed a hand on her forehead. She was burning