They brought in an elderly couple yesterday afternoon. Both in rough shape, but alive. Mentioned a young woman who'd been traveling with them. That would be Miss Rose. Yates confirmed.
She said they took everything. Taylor nodded grimly. "Sounds like the Decker gang. They've hit three stages in the last month. Army's out looking for them, but they know the territory."
He paused. The old couple, the Whitfields, they were worried sick about the young woman. Said she was traveling to meet her fiance in California. Yates felt an unexpected twinge at the word fiance, but kept his expression neutral. Did they say anything else about her?
Just that she was from Boston. School teacher, I believe. They seemed fond of her. Met her on the journey and took her under their wing. The sheriff studied Yates curiously.
She recovering all right. She will be. Martha's looking after her. Good. Tell her the Whitfields are at Doc Sullivan's place recovering.
I'm sure they'd be relieved to know she's safe. Yates promised he would and headed to the general store to purchase some necessities for their guest. A few simple garments, toiletries, and other essentials a lady might need. The proprietor's wife helped him select appropriate items, though she couldn't quite hide her curiosity about the woman they were intended for. "Just a traveler who fell ill," Yates explained vaguely, unwilling to invite gossip.
Cedar Springs, like most small towns, thrived on stories about its inhabitants, and he didn't want Bethany to become the subject of speculation. On the ride back to the ranch, his thoughts remained on the revelation that Bethany was traveling to meet a fiance. It was none of his business, of course, but he found himself wondering what kind of man waited for her in California, and whether the man knew the courage and determination his future wife possessed. Upon returning to the lazy K, Yates found Martha in the kitchen preparing a light broth for their guest. "She woke again while you were gone," the housekeeper reported.
"More lucid this time, but still weak. I helped her wash up a bit and change into a fresh night gown. She asked about you. About me? Yates couldn't hide his surprise.
Martha smiled knowingly. Wanted to know more about her rescuer. I told her you've been running the Lazy K for 10 years, came out from Kentucky after the war, and that you're the most respected rancher in the territory. Martha Yates groaned. She doesn't need my life story.
Maybe not, but a woman likes to know whose roof she's under," Martha retorted, unrepentant. "I'm taking this broth up to her now. You can bring those packages up in a bit. Give her time to eat first." Yates agreed and busied himself with ranch business while Martha tended to Bethany.
He reviewed the ledgers, noting with satisfaction that the spring cattle drive had been profitable enough to consider expanding the herd next year. The lazy Kay was prospering, but it was a lonely success. At 32, Yates had built the life he dreamed of, but increasingly found himself wondering if there should be more to it than cattle and land. When Marthur returned downstairs, she nodded toward the packages. She's finished eating and is sitting up.