Legacy by Al Lacy

Author:Al Lacy [Lacy, Al]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-79934-0
Publisher: The Doubleday Religious Publishing Group
Published: 2011-06-15T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

TWELVE

On Monday, April 4, Breanna Baylor was washing her medical instruments at the clinic when she heard the outer door open and close. Picking up a towel, she began drying her hands as she moved across the room. There was a tap on the door just before she reached it. Turning the knob, she pulled the door open and found Clarence Buffin holding his right forefinger with his left hand. The pain showed in his face.

“Come in, Mr. Buffin,” Breanna said, glancing at his hands. “What happened?”

“You know my assistant over at the store, Earl Long.”

“Yes. Come over here and sit down.”

Buffin eased onto a chair. “Well, Earl and I were doing some rearranging in the office. We were moving the safe and had it almost down on the floor when it slipped out of Earl’s hands. I was able to free my left hand in time, but the entire weight of the safe came down on this finger. I think it’s broken.”

Breanna examined his finger and found that it was indeed broken. While she was putting a splint on the finger, Buffin looked at her with admiring eyes and said, “You know, we’re going to miss you around here.”

“I hope so,” she smiled, “but I’m sure you’ll like Dr. Mullins. As I told you when you informed me that he was coming, I’ve heard many good things about him.”

“Well, if he wasn’t bringing his own nurse with him, I’d have tried to persuade him to twist your arm and see if you wouldn’t stay here.”

Breanna smiled again. “Those kind words are music to a nurse’s ears, Mr. Buffin.”

“How much longer will you be here?”

“I’m booked on the Denver-bound stage on Friday. That will put me in Denver on Saturday, the ninth. That’s the date I gave Dr. Goodwin in Denver. He’s made arrangements for me to live in a small apartment owned by his father-in-law, who’s a retired physician. There won’t be any charge for the apartment because he and his wife want to have a part in my work as a visiting nurse.”

“Wonderful. I think people like you should be treated like royalty. After all, what would we do without—”

Buffin’s statement was cut off by the sound of gunfire. There was a rapid staccato of shots, then a scream, followed by more shots.

Breanna carefully knotted the bandage that held the splint in place and hurried toward the door, with Buffin following.

There was bedlam in front of the bank. Two men were stretched out on the boardwalk. Women were weeping and men were kneeling over the fallen pair. As the nurse and council chairman drew up, Buffin asked, “What happened?”

Several voices spoke at once, saying that Turk Dunphy and his gang broke out of jail, robbed the bank, and rode out of town. Breanna examined both men on the boardwalk and pronounced them dead.

“Where’s the marshal and the deputy?” Buffin asked, looking around.

“They’re inside the jail,” replied a man, just approaching. “Both dead. Hanging by their necks from rafters in the cell block.

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