Golden Feather Press
EMERALD VALLEY

CHAPTER 5

Arriving at Dix's ranch, Francine rode up to the house and slid out of her saddle. While tying Matilda's reins, she noticed the blood on the ground beside the water trough. Where was Dix? Maybe he had gotten himself inside and had patched up his wounds?

She ran up the porch steps and tried the front door. It was locked. Locked? Stunned, Francine stared at the door. Bill had never locked the door while he was alive. She ran to the parlor window and tried opening it, but it wouldn't budge. Shading the light and looking in, she didn't see anyone in the room. As she hurried around the house to the kitchen door, she tried every window along the side, but none of them would open. Discovering the back door locked, she stamped her foot.

Having grown up in Silverton, Colorado with two older brothers, Francine had learned much from them on how to solve a problem at hand. Francine walked around the house and noticed the only window on the second floor that was open was the end room above the front porch.

"Dix!" she yelled at the window. "Dix, are you up there? Are you badly hurt?"

No one answered.

Knowing Dix had to be in the house, and possibly unconscious, Francine ran to the barn to see if there was something she could use to get up to the porch roof, then climb in the open window.

The barn was dark and a horse whinnied. Francine spoke to it and noticed it had oats, hay and water. After searching the building, she found nothing she could use and stamped her foot again. As she was leaving the barn, she saw a corner room with a closed door. Opening it, Francine let out a sigh. A sturdy, wooden ladder leaned against the wall. She was sure it would reach the porch roof.

After struggling with wooden boxes of old horseshoes, barbed wire and scrap metal that she had to drag out of the room to even get to the ladder, her hair was in disarray and her split riding skirt was smudged with rust.

The ladder weighed so much, she had to drag it to the house. It took all her strength to lift one end and tilt it toward the roof. The ladder crashed down on the porch railing, snapping it in half. The ladder and most of the railing fell into the dirt in front of the porch.

Francine stomped her foot and screamed through gritted teeth. She pulled the ladder away from the broken pieces of railing, and continued pulling it until that end was three feet from the porch. Again, she struggled with her end and managed to lift it. This time, it banged against the eave of the porch.

Francine scrambled up the ladder and onto the porch roof. She rushed to the open window and looked in. Dix was lying in bed. Was he asleep or dead? Quietly, she raised the window higher and climbed into the room. Reaching the bed, Francine put her ear next to Dix's face. He was breathing, but what was that pungent odor on his breath? Where had she smelled that before? Suddenly, it donned on her. Laudanum! Had a doctor been here? She pulled away the blanket and saw the bandage around his waist. It had been neatly done, but somehow not quite like a doctor would do. Francine scanned Dix's muscular chest and arms. He was a very handsome and alluring man and she felt drawn to him. She thought of Bryce, the man to whom she was engaged. His gaunt body didn't have any of the appeal that Dix's did.

Francine felt Dix's forehead. It was warm, but not hot, and she wondered about it. Knowing a few things about bullet wounds, Dix should have a fever, but he didn't. Even so, she wanted to put a damp cloth on his forehead. She got to her feet, left the room and went downstairs.

She gasped at the mess in the kitchen. She quickly found a rag, folded it, wet it under the pump, ran back upstairs and placed it on Dix's forehead. Satisfied that he was sleeping peacefully, she decided to stay awhile. When Dix woke up, he may need water or something to eat. It was then she noticed the empty can of peaches on the chair with the spoon still sticking out of it. Remembering the kitchen, she decided to clean it. It was the least she could do for Dix after her father had paid men to kill him.