“Her name was Marigold,” Doc said. She struggled to recall the last name. “I can’t quite…Fisher! Marigold Fisher. Tragic situation. Just tragic. Her folks were killed by outlaws a while back.”
“Here?” Fannie said, professing surprise. “In Cold Spring? When was this? I don’t remember hearing about any killings.”
“They didn’t live in Cold Spring proper,” Doc said. “Had a farmstead, oh, ‘bout eight miles out, in the opposite direction from your granddad’s place, which is why you probably didn’t hear of it.”
“What happened?” Daniel asked.
“Well, let me see if I can recall the exact–”
A tiny howl interrupted Doc Hartworth from the crate Daniel had brought inside and set at his feet. Once the first puppy started crying, all joined in, whining loudly.
Ranger, who had come indoors with him, nosed the squirming, whimpering bundles of fur and then looked up at Daniel as if to say, aren’t you going to do anything about this?
Written Fireside: Be Mine, Marshal