Brazos Bride (17 page)

Relieved, he said, “I understand. Everyone needs time alone.” He sat on the other end of the boulder with the food between them. He understood more than she knew. He’d heard too many references to her father’s temper and ill treatment of others.

Peering around, Micah saw no one, but he couldn’t relax. What was it about this place that bothered him? Nothing spooky here, yet he had a prickly feeling again, as if someone watched them.

“
Bet you’re thirsty. I’ll get us some water in my canteen.” He stood but froze when he heard a rifle being cocked. He turned slowly and saw the tip of a rifle showing through a space between two huge boulders only twenty feet away.

“
Duck!” he yelled and stepped backward, shielding Hope as he drew his pistol.

A shot blasted through the quiet. Fire burned along Micah’s scalp as he fired, and he fell onto Hope.

Too late. He’d reacted too late. The steady tattoo of hoof beats signaled the culprit’s escape.

“
Micah?” Hope called.

He helped her to her feet and brushed dirt from her riding skirt. “Sorry, guess I’m not much of a bodyguard.” Red, sticky liquid ran into his left eye and ear as he struggled to focus.

“
Your head! Oh, there is so much blood. Sit here while I see how badly you are hurt.”

The earth spun and Micah’s legs turned to jelly. His butt hit the ground and his legs sprawled awkwardly. At the same time, anger consumed him. He’d failed. Again.

As if from nowhere, Eduardo galloped up, his horse lathered. “I heard a shot.”

Micah wiped blood from his eyes and yelled, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Exhaling a loud breath, Eduardo walked toward him. “This is the ranch of my cousin. Unless Hope tells me differently, I can visit whenever I wish.”

Hope gripped Micah’s shoulders. “Eduardo, I am so glad you’re here. Micah is wounded.”

Micah stared at the blood dripping between his fingers to his lap. “How do we know
you
aren’t the one shooting at us?”

As if he spoke to a child, Eduardo said, “By now, even you must understand I would never risk hurting my cousin. She is like my sister.”

“
You expect me to believe you showing up seconds after I’m shot is a coincidence?” His voice sounded far away, echoing as if from a cave.

Hope shouted, “Stop! You are being childish, Micah, while you bleed like a fountain. Eduardo, please get Micah onto his horse. We must get him home and take care of his wound.”

Micah snapped, “I can mount my own horse. Day’ll never come when I need help from some fancied up
vaquero
.” He fought to stand. His legs refused to obey. The sky turned dark as he dropped.

Hope kneeled over her husband. “Micah!” His head had thunked against the boulder as he fell. Thank heavens he’d been sitting down.

His sun-bronzed face had gone gray. He’d saved her life. What if doing so cost him his? She shed her jacket and placed it under his head as a pillow.

She heard strange crying noises, then realized they came from her
.

Please, God, help this man. Tell me what to do.

Eduardo had whipped off his neckerchief. He pressed it against Micah’s wound. “You need to help me, Hope. This bandana is already soaked.”

She ripped a sleeve from her shirtwaist and fashioned it into a makeshift bandage and then handed it to Eduardo. “I will go for help.”

“
No! Stay with me here. We do not know if the killer is still around waiting for you to ride away. Take my rifle and fire it into the air several times while I press on your husband’s wound.”

“
If no one heard the first shot...”

“
They may have. I was nearby, so perhaps others are on their way.” He raised his gaze briefly to hers. “You have a better idea?”

“
No, you are right.” Hope fired three times, then paused before firing three more times. What if no one came? What if the killer returned instead? She glanced at Micah. Because she knew nothing more to do, she fired three more rounds.

The sound of riders approaching made her want to shout in relief. Joel and Zach rode in, followed by her foreman and several of her cowboys.

Joel was first off his horse. “What the hell happened here?”

Hope stepped in front of the newcomers. “We were picnicking when someone shot from those rocks.” She pointed at the hill beside them. “Eduardo just arrived and is trying to save Micah’s life.”

Wooster slid from his saddle. “Red, ride for the house. Bring the wagon. Alejandro, go to town for the doc.”

Joel relieved Eduardo.

Zach stripped off his shirt. “Whew. Beg pardon, Hope, but Micah needs a bandage.” He ripped his shirt into strips and rolled them.

Hope stared as Joel tossed aside her shirtwaist sleeve she’d used as a pad. Already, the snow-white fabric had turned bright red. She couldn’t look away from that stain. He’d bleed to death before they could get him home. She gasped for air, but instead her chest constricted.

“
Sit down, Hope.” Eduardo called.

“
This way, Miss Hope.” Wooster helped her to a log in the shade. “Will you be all right now?”

She waved away his concern. “Yes, yes. Please, just help Micah.”

“
Good thing we aren’t far from the house.” Wooster peered around and muttered, “Where’s the blasted wagon?”

What seemed like days later, Hope heard wagon wheels’ rumble over the rough range. Red drove the horses their way. Maggie and Lizzie rode with him. Seeing the two women was like a gift from God.

When Red stopped, the aunts climbed from the seat into the wagon bed.

Lizzie said, “Now don’t you fret, Hope, dear. We brought quilts and our doctoring box.”

Hope couldn’t stop trembling. “The blood...so much blood.”

“
Head wounds bleed a lot and look worse than they are. We’ll take good care of him, you believe that.” Maggie said.

Four men lifted Micah onto the wagon bed. He groaned, but didn’t regain consciousness.

Lizzie patted a spot beside her. “Come up here with us, dear, and ride alongside Micah. He’ll know you’re here even though he’s unconscious.”

Joel picked up Hope and set her on the wagon. “Damn, er, pardon, I got blood on your clothes.”

“
It does not matter,” Hope said as Red turned the wagon toward home. “Are you coming?”

“
No, little sister. Reckon we’ll try tracking the polecat that shot Micah.” Joel turned to Zach. “You go with them so you can get a fresh shirt. You lead their horses. Ride for us if there’s news.”

Hope knew he meant if Micah died. Even thinking about that possibility drove her near death herself. She looked at the aunts. Although she knew they were very different, she thought of them as one unit because of the way they worked well together and talked alike.

Maggie cautioned, “Sister, don’t let his head bump on the boards.”

Hope leaned forward. “Oh, no, he bumped his head on a rock when he fell. Already he must have a raised lump because I heard the thud when his skull hit.”

“
Now, Maggie, when have I ever done such a thing? I have the pillow cushioning his head, don’t worry.” Lizzie replied.

After she’d removed the bandage, Lizzie wiped blood from Micah’s brow.

“
What can I do?” Hope asked her.

“
Talk to him, dear. Doesn’t matter if it makes sense, just anything pleasant will do.”

“
This is just temporary until we can get him home.” Maggie swabbed the wound with something that smelled vile. As if she did this every day, she skillfully reapplied a bandage and tied it. “Now, help me turn him so I can see about that bump on the back of his head.”

Lizzie and Hope pulled Micah to his side, and he groaned. Hope worried the pain would be more than he could bear.

As if she’d read Hope’s thoughts, Lizzie said, “He’s a strong, healthy young man, dear. He’s survived worse in the War.”

“
H-He did?” She felt foolish knowing so little about the man she’d wed, even if theirs were only a temporary union.

“
Oh, yes, all three of them did. Joel was hurt so we thought he’d never recover, but you just can’t keep a Stone down for long. They’re tough.”

Hope remembered she was supposed to be talking to Micah. She leaned near him and spoke softly. “Remember when we danced at that fandango? You were nice to ignore that I stepped on your foot. When you are healed, we should have an even grander fandango to celebrate.” She took his hand in hers and held it near her heart.

“
I think it will be on the courtyard like before, and we will invite everyone in town and the ranches around us to come. Mariachis will play. We will string lanterns, and serve lots to eat. I will wear my red dress and a jeweled combs in my hair.”

Was that a gentle squeeze or the jostling of the wagon? “We will laugh and dance until we are exhausted, then we will sit and listen to the happy chatter of those around us.” There it was again, a gentle pressure from his fingers.

She thanked God as the wagon pulled up to the house. “We are home, Micah. Soon we will have you in bed and treated so you can recover quickly.”

Two
vaqueros
hurried toward them carrying an old door.

Maggie gently pulled Hope away. “Let the men get Micah up to his room, dear. You can follow them.”

Wooster directed the men who slid Micah onto the door and then hefted him toward the house.

The effect was too much like that of the pallbearers at Papa’s funeral. She stared at the ground to avoid watching.

Consuela met them at the door. “The bed, it is ready.” When the men bumped the railing as they navigated the stairs, she said, “Careful, Señor Micah, he is not a bag of grain.”

In the master bedroom, Micah groaned when Zach and Red eased him onto the massive bed. They tugged Micah’s boots from his feet. Hope worked on his shirt buttons, her trembling fingers clumsy at their task.

Gently, Zach brushed her hands away. “Hope, you go rest a bit. Red and I will get Micah peeled out of his clothes and tucked into bed.”

Hope shook her head. “I cannot leave him. He saved my life or he would not have been hurt.” She collapsed onto a chair nearby. Her cheeks heated as the two men peeled away Micah’s dungarees and shirt.

Maria carried in a pail of steaming water. “The aunts, they say bring this when Señor was in his bed.”

Both aunts bustled in laden with their medicine box and supplies.

The maid bobbed a curtsy to the aunts. “The doctor, he will arrive soon.”

“
We can’t be certain of that, Maria.” Maggie set her supplies on the washstand. “And that wound needs cleaning now.”

Lizzie dipped up some water and used it to soak a cloth. “Zach, pull the sheet up to hide Micah’s nakedness. Don’t know if he’d care if he’s exposed for all the world to see, but it’s offends my sensibilities.”

Grateful Lizzie had voiced her thoughts, Hope stood and met Zach’s gaze. “Perhaps you would move this chair beside the bed so I can be near Micah.”

Zach moved the sturdy wingback and gently escorted her to sit there. Hope clasped her husband’s hand while the aunts tended his head wound from the bed’s other side.

Maggie shaved a strip of hair around the angry, long gash. “He’ll likely have a scar, but the bullet didn’t gouge into the skull.”

Hope was sorry she’d looked, but she couldn’t help herself. “Poor Micah, his hair is so nice. Shaving it away is a shame.”

Maggie barely glanced up from her duties. “He does have nice hair, but don’t worry. It’ll grow back in no time. Now, Hope dear, you just lean back in the chair and hold his hand. You look near to passing out and we’ve doctored much worse than this in our lives, haven’t we, Sister?”

Lizzie said, “My, yes. Hope, I said you can’t keep a Stone down and it’s true. Micah will likely be up and out on the range in a couple of days.”

Ten minutes later, Dr. Ross hurried into Micah’s room, panting from exertion.

“
When your man arrived, I feared it was you who needed me, Miss Hope.” Dr. Ross opened his satchel and rummaged inside. “Hard to believe you were strong enough to ride your horse.”

“
I grow stronger each day, Doctor Ross. But someone shot at me, and my husband saved me by throwing himself in front of me.”

Doc shook his head as he set about treating Micah’s wounds. “Surely no one would shoot at you. Perhaps the person aimed at Mr. Stone here and he misunderstood.” He frowned. “Lotta people still think he killed your father.” His words left no doubt that he was one who believed Micah guilty.

Zach opened his mouth to speak, but Hope cut him off.

Furious at the unjust accusation, Hope snapped, “My husband did
not
shoot my father, and a jury
cleared
Micah’s name.” Hope sent the doctor what she hoped was a searing glare. “Someone aimed at
me
, otherwise the bullet would not have hit Micah when he protected me.”