Depending on the Doctor (Nevada Bounty Book 2) by Margaret Madigan Page B

bluffing. I’d sworn when I left Father’s influence that I’d try to live by the rules, to be a good person always, to live if not by God’s laws and the rules of any church, at least by the principles of good and right.
    In my life back in Palmer it was easy to see how to apply those principles. Now it became clear that life could get too complicated for practical application. It crossed my mind that I’d perhaps lived a sheltered life.
    “Well?” Clyde prompted.
    “What other is he talking about?” Emmett asked.
    There were snickers around the room.
    I cleared my throat. “I’ll cook and clean for you, and keep your home or hideout or wherever you live in good running order,” I offered.
    “And?” Clyde asked. He had to know what I’d ask for, and what I was willing to pay for it. I thought that might account for the triumphant smile.
    I took a deep breath and said the words he wanted to hear. “And in return for Dr. Wilder’s life, I’ll do whatever else you ask.”
    “Lydia,” Emmett said, his voice a warning growl. “What did you just agree to?”
    I turned and looked him in the eye, “I saved your life.”
    “My life isn’t worth saving, especially at that price,” he said.
    “I haven’t agreed yet,” Clyde said, “so don’t get too worked up about it.”
    Between the men anticipating a cook and the possibility of their own personal whore, and the silent battle of wills between Emmett and Clyde, I felt like a commodity the two of them could barter over.
    I gave Emmett a little shove in the chest. “It’s my choice, not yours.”
    “Your brother entrusted you to me.”
    I rolled my eyes at him. “I’m not his to entrust to anyone.” I turned to Clyde. “Give me your answer, or we’ll just head out front and wait for Lyle.”
    “Why should I let him live?” Clyde said, indicating Emmett. “I could just let Lyle kill him, and keep you anyway.”
    That had crossed my mind. “He’s a doctor. How often do you or your men get injured in your line of work? Wouldn’t it be useful to have your own doctor?”
    “He couldn’t save Ernie.”
    “You know as well as I do that some injuries can’t be fixed. You all take that risk every time you commit a crime.”
    “Maybe One-Arm Billy’d still have two arms if we’d had a doc to treat him,” Slim said.
    Clyde glared at Emmett for a long, silent moment. “I don’t trust him.”
    “Well, you can always kill him later if it doesn’t work out,” I said, tired of the debate.
    Clyde smiled wide. “All right, then. My answer is yes. I’m going to enjoy breaking the both of you. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll wish I’d just let Lyle kill you.”

I was too furious to speak to Lydia the rest of the day. How could she sell herself like that? Was she that eager to prove she was the nobody she claimed to be? She said she’d done it to save me, but she didn’t know I was even more of a nobody than her. Why was my life more valuable to her than her own?
    I’d planned to negotiate with Clyde for Lydia’s life, but she stepped in and ruined my chances. Clyde would never change his mind, now, not with a better prize in hand.
    We all packed up shortly after the deal was struck and headed northeast, for the gang’s hideout. They’d lashed Ernie to a horse and planned to bury him once they got home. From their conversations, I anticipated only a long day’s ride.
    Lydia couldn’t have misinterpreted my mood, so she left me alone all day. But as the sun worked its way down into late afternoon, she finally rode up beside me. I chose not to look at her; just kept my eyes on the cold, snowy trail between us and Lyle and Slim’s horses in front of us.
    “You’re going to have to get over this eventually.”
    “I don’t have to,” I said. My voice sounded petulant even to me.
    “I saved your life,” she said, keeping her voice low enough that the men in front and in back of us wouldn’t hear.
    “Did I ask you to?”
    “I