Lydia

Three

Nicholas pushed himself to pace the floor in the doctor's office, determined to heal faster. He didn't have time to stay in bed. He needed to find Jakeson. Every day Nick was laid up was a day the outlaw drew further out of reach. Thankfully, Doctor Caleb told Nick that his wounds were healing nicely. Of course, the bruised ribs would take longer to heal, but Nick expected that. It wasn't the first time he'd received that kind of injury, and it wouldn't be the last.

He stopped near the bedstand and reached for his whiskey bottle. For the moment, the vile drink was the only thing dulling the pain, and Doctor West made certain the room was stocked.

Someone knocked on the closed door, and Nick stopped and looked toward the door. "Who is it?" He only asked because he didn't want Lydia coming back to bother him again.

The door opened slightly, and Anthony Vincent poked his head inside. When his gaze met Nick, the man grinned.

"Drake, old man, you look like a stampede of horses has trampled you."

Nick chuckled, holding his arms to his sides because his ribs hurt to laugh. "And I feel like it, too." He motioned his hand. "Come inside. I might need your help with the case I'm working on."

Vincent entered the room and closed the door behind him. "No, you don't need my help. I'm not a Pinkerton agent any longer, or have you forgotten?"

"Of course, I haven't forgotten," Nick grumbled. "But every day I stay in this room, the outlaw gets farther from my reach."

"You seem to forget one thing." Vincent folded his arms across his broad chest. "No matter how many outlaws slip from your fingers, you always manage to find them and lock them away."

Groaning, Nick rubbed his throbbing forehead. His friend was correct. Nick always found his man – or woman. Yet, there was something about Jakeson that kept him awake at night. Maybe it was because the man had the chance to kill Nick, but he just beat him badly and left him on the road instead. It was as if the outlaw was challenging him to try again, which of course, Nick would do.

"So, if you're not here to help me, why are you here?" Nick hobbled back to his bed and sat on the edge of the mattress.

"Maverick Easton told me you were here."

Nick arched an eyebrow. "Easton? How does he know?"

Vincent chuckled. "His wife knows everything, or have you forgotten that fact?"

"True." He sighed heavily. "Then you just came to visit me?"

"Actually, I arranged a room for you at the hotel. I've come to take you there."

"What?" Nick jumped to his feet, ignoring the pains in his sides. "What makes you think I'm going to stay there? Once Doctor West releases me, I'll be back on my horse, tracking the outlaw down."

Grinning, Vincent shook his head. "That will be a little difficult since you won't be able to get on your horse, and even if you manage to climb on, riding will be so painful, you won't get far."

Nick scowled and threw a pillow at his friend. "I'm not going to let a little pain stop me."

"You will if I chain you to the bed."

Nick huffed. "Then I'll stay right here. At least I know I can get up and move around."

"It's too late. I've already made arrangements with the doctor. Mrs. Hansen at the hotel is preparing your room while we speak." Vincent motioned with his hand toward Nick's clothes. "I'm relieved that you are dressed because I'm not in the mood to dress a full-grown man."