Redemption's Edge Read Online Free Page B

“We’ll get you home. I promise. You’ll be buried on your land.” He watched as his friend’s mouth curved slightly before his eyes rolled back and his body went slack. Pat Hanes exhaled his last breath.
    Luke stood over them. He’d grown used to seeing men injured and dying. Most times, he didn’t know them and could put the carnage behind him. This time, though, it was different. In a few short months, Pat had become a friend, someone he and Dax could trust. His end came much too soon.
    “Did you mean it?”
    Dax looked up, his face stoic, eyes grave. “About burying him on his land?”
    Luke nodded, already knowing the answer he’d hear.
    “Yes.”

    Splendor, Montana, Spring 1866
    Rachel choked on the dust that swirled around her skirts as she made her way to the general store. It surprised her that the road could be so muddy while dust clogged the air. Her uncle’s clinic had been quiet the last few days. She suspected the weather and windstorms to be part of the reason, and took advantage of the slower pace to clean the clinic and purchase supplies for the home they lived in at the back of the property.
    The old-timers, those who’d lived in Splendor more than a few years, talked of how mild the winter had been this year. In Rachel’s mind, the large snow drifts and freezing temperatures seemed harsh. It was hard for her to imagine it being worse. The frozen ground of the winter had begun to soften, creating a never-ending mud pool on the main street. She stomped her feet outside the store’s entrance and pushed at the door, losing her balance for a moment as the strong winds propelled her inside.
    “Quite a blow we have out there today, Miss Davenport.” Timmy, the store’s teenage clerk, stood on a small stepladder, arranging items on an upper shelf. “Haven’t seen too many people today.”
    “I’m not surprised. It’s not too easy to get around with the mud and wind.” Rachel rearranged her bonnet and tried to brush off the dust clinging to her dress.
    She glanced around at the full shelves and variety of merchandise Timmy’s father stocked and, once again, marveled at how he kept the place so organized and clean. She suspected most of it was due to Timmy’s hard work.
    He jumped to the ground and walked behind the counter. “What can I get for you?” The boy had a broad, infectious smile that couldn’t help but put people at ease.
    Rachel pulled a piece of paper from the cotton reticule her mother had given her before leaving Boston. “We’ll need flour, sugar, coffee—” Rachel halted as the door to the shop slammed open and a man appeared in the entry—tall, dirty, and trail weary by the look of him.
    “Where’s the doctor?”
    Rachel walked forward, taking tentative steps. The combination of crusted dirt, hard features, and abrupt manner warned her to be cautious.
    “I’m Rachel Davenport, a nurse at my uncle’s infirmary. He’s a doctor.”
    Dax’s gaze focused on the young, beautiful woman before him. Her manner and dress indicated she came from privilege, her voice told him she was from the North.
    He hadn’t seen anyone this lovely in months, maybe years. That doesn’t matter now , he told himself, and pushed the thought aside. “It’s my brother. He’s come down with something. He’s running a fever and says his head is pounding.”
    His voice held the familiar accent of the South and Rachel wondered if he’d fought in the war.
    She shot a look at Timmy. “I’ll be back for everything later.” Rachel pushed past the man and rushed outside to the buckboard to see a man covered with a blanket, hard coughs racking his body, overcome with feverish delirium. Beside him lay a coffin, the smell of embalming chemicals seeping through its seams.
    “Follow me.” She didn’t wait to see if the man would heed her order. She pushed open the door of the clinic, threw her reticule down, removed her hat, and turned toward the entrance. “In there.” She pointed to a