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so would she.

Conner worked on the man until he finally relaxed and plopped down on a chair near the patient. “He’s breathing, and his heart is beating.”

Elsie thought they were the best words she’d ever heard, and she silently thanked the God whom she’d ignored her whole life.

“Can we put him on a horse?” the man who was holding her asked.

 “No,” Conner told him. “We can’t move this man for a few days yet. He actually died for a few minutes. The injury bruised his heart.”

The man who wasn’t holding the knife stood. “So, he has to stay here?”

Conner walked to the sink and poured water from the bucket on his hands. “If you want him to live.”

The man who was holding the knife to her throat tightened his hold on her. “If he dies, she dies.”

Conner dried his hands and walked over to them. “Look, I’m the doctor, not this woman. Kill me if he dies. She has nothing to do with it.”

“Who is she to you that you care so much?” the tall one asked.

Conner looked at Elsie and said, “She’s just my hired assistant.”

The man with the knife put it back into his sheath. “All right, Doc. If he dies, you die.” He turned to Elsie and said, “You can leave now.”

“Wait!” The other man blocked the door. “Are you crazy, Gus? She’ll go get the sheriff. He’ll know how and why Mac got himself shot.”

“How’s he gonna know that, Pete?”

“He knows the bank was robbed today, and he is probably pretty sure he shot one of us, so when he comes here, he’ll know we was the ones that done it.”

Gus scratched his head. “I guess yer right.” Gus grabbed Elsie by her shoulder and plopped her down in the chair. “Looks like you get to live, but I can’t let you leave.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Elsie saw Bertie peek in from the kitchen. She brought a finger to her mouth to warn Bertie, who caught the warning and closed the door quietly.

“We haven’t had our dinner yet,” Elsie said. “I’d be happy to go into the kitchen and rustle us up a quick meal.”

“Good idea,” Gus said, “but one of us will have to go with you.”

Elsie strained to come up with a reason why they didn’t need to go with her. She finally blurted, “There’s a backdoor off the laundry room. That’s the only way out besides this clinic door. One of you men could stand outside the backdoor to make sure I don’t run out.”

The men looked at each other as if trying to decide what to do.

“I think Conner put a roast in the oven earlier. I know I’m hungry,” she added.

Gus ordered Pete to stand outside the backdoor and then nodded at Elsie. “Be quick about it.”

Once in the kitchen, Elsie pulled Bertie into the sitting room to explain the situation.

“I think it’s best if you stay out of sight until I serve them dinner. Then, I think you should run down to the sheriff’s office and bring him here. Use the backdoor.”

“All right,” Bertie said. “I’ll hide in your room. There’s a ham in the oven and—”

“I’ll find everything, just go—quickly.”

Bertie ran into the room that was now Elsie’s, while Elsie went into the kitchen and dished up a plate of ham, mashed potatoes, gravy, and squash for each of them. It took her three trips, but she finally brought all the food out to the clinic.

Gus called Pete back inside, and the men gobbled down their meals. Conner ate, but he checked on his patient frequently. Elsie could tell by the look on Conner’s face the situation worried him.

She collected the empty plates, took them into the kitchen with one of them following her, and returned to the clinic, hoping to see Sheriff Babcock storm in at any moment.

Chapter Eight

Elsie fidgeted as she waited for Babcock to burst through the door to arrest the men, but nothing happened. Didn’t Bertie go to the sheriff’s office? Maybe she did, and the sheriff hadn’t been there. Something was wrong. She watched Conner fuss over the patient—his forehead creased with concern. Elsie remembered how he’d asked the men to take him instead of her if their partner had died.

What an honorable thing to say. It warmed her heart, but cooled when she thought about what might happen if the man died. Conner dead? It made her realize how much she cared for him. Despite his cool manner, he was an upstanding and moral man. Were all church-goers like him? Was believing in God what made him so kind?

The sheriff didn’t rush into the clinic as Elsie had imagined. Instead, he walked in casually, stood in the doorway, and said, “Looks like you two are busy tonight. I rarely see the clinic lights on so late, so I thought I’d check and make sure everything was all right.”

Conner nodded at the patient. “This man is in a delicate condition.”

The sheriff walked over to where the patient was lying, putting his back to the other two men who were still sitting against the wall. Then, he turned, quick as lightning with his gun out and pointed it at the men.

“Drop your gun belts!” he ordered. When the gun belts hit the floor, Babcock said, “The knife and sheath, too.” The knife in its sheath hit the floor. “Can you kick those weapons into the corner, Mrs. Van Gates?”

Elsie did as he’d instructed. She noted that it was the first time anyone had addressed her as such, and it sounded so wonderful she smiled, despite the situation.

In his thundering voice, Babcock ordered, “Now, put your hands behind your heads.” When the men complied, he walked over, took the roll of rope from

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