Kissing in the Dark (43 page)

Stone won their battle and tore himself away.

“Stop him,” Duke yelled, but the words were a croak. He grabbed for Stone’s arm, but other hands pulled him clear.

Radford was there, crouched beside him, yanking open Duke’s coat. “Where are you hit?”

Duke batted his hands away. “Get Stone. He’ll take Cora.”

“She’s okay. Faith has her.”

“Get him, damn it . . .”

“We did.” Boyd pointed to the judge, who was lying facedown in the snow.

Kyle lifted his fingers from Stone’s throat. “He’s dead.”

A huge stain covered the back and side of Stone’s coat, but Duke’s pain-dazed mind struggled to comprehend what happened. Stone was dead.

Shot.

By Radford. Who wouldn’t touch a gun. But today he had killed a man to save Duke and his family.

“You shot him . . .”

“And the bullet might have hit you, too,” Radford said, pushing Duke’s coat over his shoulder.

“Rad, you shot him. You couldn’t . . . you shot him . . .”

“Hold still, damn it!”

Radford had killed men in the war and it had torn his life apart. A deep, cutting sorrow pushed a sob from Duke’s throat. “God, Rad, I’m sorry.”

“The man didn’t leave us a choice.” Radford’s jaw locked and he yanked Duke’s shirt open. Buttons flew, and Radford grimaced at the sight of Duke’s shoulder. “Jesus, you’re a mess.”

“Feels that way. Will you—”

“No!” Radford gripped Duke’s jaw and stared him in the eye. “I killed a man so you could live, and goddamn it, you’re going to.”

Boyd and Kyle brought Duke to his feet, and that was the first time since jumping Stone that Duke noticed what was going on around him. Cuvier was carrying Cora and helping Faith into the house. Iris was jogging down the street with Aster and Doc Milton hurrying behind her. Sheriff Phelps was racing toward them from the other direction, with Adam a few paces ahead, his boyish face filled with fear and anguish.

Everything receded in a black haze, and Duke’s body grew heavy.

“Put him down,” Radford said.

His brothers lowered him to the snowy ground, then knelt on either side of him.

“It’ll torture him if we lift under his arms,” Boyd said. Duke wanted to agree, but his tongue felt too thick to move.

“We won’t need to. Remember those chair races we used to have when we were boys?” Duke couldn’t answer Radford, because his head was reeling. “We’re going to give you a ride and see how fast we can get you to the house.”

He felt Kyle and Radford reach beneath his legs to lock their hands on each other’s arms and form a sling chair. Boyd moved behind him, locking his hands on Radford’s and Kyle’s forearms to provide a back support, which Duke needed because everything was moving in a nauseating, dizzying swirl that made it impossible to sit up.

Radford, being the eldest and the one who always gave the count when the four of them combined their strength to do the impossible, gave the nod to move.

Duke’s last conscious moment was feeling his brothers lift him in their arms.

Chapter 39

Stabbing pain jolted Duke from the black nothingness he’d been drifting in. He groaned and squirmed away from whatever was digging in his shoulder.

“It’s almost over,” his mother said.

He felt her fingers smoothing his hair back, then a cool cloth wiping his forehead. He forced his eyes open and saw Doc Milton and Aster bending over him, working on his shoulder, and his brothers standing near the bed. His mother was seated beside him.

“Is Cora all right?” he asked, but the black swamp sucked him under before he heard his mother answer. It seemed like a second later that another sharp pain jerked him back the surface, but it was Aster, bandaging his shoulder.

Faith was at his side wiping his face with a cold cloth. She tried to smile, but her lips quivered and tears slipped down her cheeks.

“It’s bad?” he asked, his voice gravelly and slow, his mind so groggy he fought to keep his eyes open.

“Doc got the bullet out, but you’ve lost so much blood.” Her jaw trembled. “Oh, darling . . .”

He understood the fear in her eyes. He himself had seen strong, healthy men die from festering gunshot wounds.

Faith’s cool hands felt good on his face, but he was slipping away.

“I love you, Duke,” she said.

Her tremulous voice lifted his heart, but the heavy black swamp swallowed him again.

When he woke, Faith was gone.

His brothers stood around the bed, and his mother sat beside him, holding his hand. “It would please me immensely, Duke Halford, if you would stay with us a while longer this time. A mother can only take so much worrying, you know?” She looked drawn and ashen, sitting there with fear etching grooves between her eyes.

“You shouldn’t worry,” he said, his voice hoarse. “It makes you look old.”

She laughed and sobbed at the same time. “You always were too honest.”

“Promised Dad I’d always tell the truth.”

She felt his forehead like she’d done hundreds of times before, but he’d never seen fear in her eyes. Worry, yes. Fear, no. His injury was bad, and the strain on his mother’s face confirmed it.

“How long have I been out?”

“About four hours.”

He turned his fingers up and grasped her hand. “I’m sorry Radford and I upset you with our argument.”

“That is nothing for you to worry about now.” She smoothed her palm over his knuckles. “You’ve been so little trouble, always my helper, then my keeper, then the town protector. You’re a good man, Duke, and a good son. You deserve a long, happy life. Your wife and children need you. I need you.” Her voice broke and her chin trembled. “And your brothers . . . it’s always been the four of you.” She kissed his cheek. “They need you too,” she whispered, then hurried from the room.

Duke felt woozy, but he needed to talk to his brothers before he got sucked under again. A spear of pain shot through his shoulder, and he struggled to ignore it. “You could have gotten yourself killed, Boyd,” he croaked.

Boyd arched his eyebrow. “Did you have a better idea?”

“No. Not one. Thanks for being there.” He directed his thanks to all of them, forcing himself to confront the truth. “Will you look out for Faith and the children if I . . . if this turns bad?”

One by one his brothers nodded, gravely silent.

Radford gripped his hand. “Damn it, Duke, I saw men get their legs and arms blown off in the war, and they survived. If they can pull through that, and I can fight my way back from being half-insane, you can fight your way through this.”

“This may be bigger than me,” Duke half-whispered.

“Bullshit.” Boyd laid his hand over his brothers’ clasped hands. “You’ve always said nothing is impossible if the four of us tackle it together.”

“That’s right.” Kyle covered their hands with his. We’re here, Duke, and none of us is quitting. Got that?”

Duke got it—their strength, their commitment, and their love. His brothers would be there for him, no matter what.

Chapter 40

Adam stood outside Duke’s bedchamber door, unable to stop shaking. He’d gotten to Radford, he’d brought the sheriff, but he didn’t know if he’d gotten them in time to save Duke.

Duke’s brothers and mother were in the room with him now. Aster and the doctor had taken the bullet out of his shoulder. Faith slipped in and out of the room, but Cora whimpered the whole time she was away. No matter how many times Faith told Cora the judge was dead, Cora insisted he would come back and get her. She was terrified of the man. And like Adam, the thing the little girl feared most was that her new daddy would die.

Nobody was telling Adam anything, and that’s why he couldn’t move away from the door. No matter how many people came and went, he didn’t budge. Not even when Duke’s brothers Kyle and Boyd brought their mother out to wait with the others in the parlor. Not even when Duke groaned, and Radford’s low murmur responded; Adam didn’t move, because if he left that spot, then his silent plea to Duke might not be strong enough to reach him.

The door opened again, and Radford Grayson came out, his face drawn, a fat tear streaking down his left cheek. He wouldn’t cry unless Duke was going to die.

Adam’s heart cramped, and a big, ugly sob burst from his mouth. He hung his head, not even caring that his nose was starting to run. Nothing mattered now. Duke was the only man he’d ever looked up to. Ever loved. The only man who’d ever been nice to him.

“Come here, son.” Rebecca’s father pulled him into a hug, and Adam sobbed like a five-year-old against the man’s hard chest. All Adam knew of having brothers was from the memories Duke had shared with him. Without Duke’s stories and his advice, Adam would have to guess how to become a decent, honorable man—like the sheriff, his father, his friend.

“He’ll pull through, Adam. I know my brother, and he won’t let us down.”

Adam stepped away and wiped his nose on his sleeve, ashamed of his tears. “Sorry I messed up your shirt.”

Mr. Grayson pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and handed it to him. “I owe you an apology, Adam. Your interest in Rebecca was no reason for me to suspect you of bad intentions.”

Adam dried his face on the soft cloth. “I should have stayed away like you said, sir.”

“Rebecca told me what happened when you two met in the gorge.”

“I didn’t know she would be there.”

“I know. I judged you unfairly. You’re an intelligent, courageous young man, and today your quick thinking protected your family.”

Adam shook his head. “You did that, sir.”

“No, Adam. If you hadn’t done what you did, my brother could be dead.” Mr. Grayson gripped Adam’s shoulders and looked him square in the eye. “Thank you.”

o0o

As soon as Faith got Cora put to bed, she hurried to her bedchamber to check on Duke. Adam was sitting in the hall with his head against the wall, sound asleep. He hadn’t budged from the spot since Duke was carried into the bedchamber twelve hours earlier.

Faith squelched her urge to kiss her brother’s forehead as she’d done so many times when he was a round-cheeked baby, but Adam was more man than boy now, and her fussing would embarrass him. She would wake him so he could see Duke, but first, she needed to see her husband alone.

Duke was sleeping when she entered the room. Dr. Milton said he was doing as well as could be expected, but Faith understood too much about wounds to feel comforted. Duke’s face was drawn and white as the pillowcase. The sheet and blankets were drawn up to his chest, leaving his shoulders exposed. A bulky bandage covered his left shoulder, and she gave thanks that the bullet hadn’t hit his chest and struck his loving, forgiving heart. His mother and Kyle were with him in the room, but they stepped outside with the doctor as Faith entered.

She laid her palm on her husband’s hot forehead. He had a long struggle ahead of him. He’d lost a lot of blood and was subject to infection and fever and a host of other things. Her stomach twisted in a knot of worry.

He opened his eyes, but they were glassy and didn’t focus.

“You know what I noticed about you the night of the lawn party when we were dancing?” she asked, clasping his right hand with both of hers. “That your voice was as deep and smooth as that cello in Damon’s band, that every word you speak is music to my ears.” She brought his hand to her chest, hugging it, wishing she could hug him. “I would love it if you’d talk to me.”

She waited for the musical sound of his voice, but only his lashes twitched. The doctor had given him a large dose of laudanum to blunt his pain.

“I want to grow old with you, Duke. I want to spend my life loving you.” She kissed his lips and stroked his cheek, willing his glazed eyes to see her. “My husband, my lover, my dream come true—I love you.”

His body tensed and his eyes sparked, then they drifted closed on a long sigh.

She lowered her cheek to his chest, listening to his heart beat, praying it would grow stronger each hour. She hoped his sigh meant he heard her. If this was their final exchange, she wanted the last words he heard to be “I love you.”

An hour later, she was bathing his face when he woke, groaning in pain. The doctor tried to give him more laudanum, but Duke turned away. “I need to see Adam,” he said, his voice grating and weak.

Faith hurried to the hall and woke her brother with a gentle shake. He jerked awake and stared at her with round, fearful eyes. “Duke wants to see you,” she said.

His eyes lit with hope. “He’s awake?”

She nodded, and he scrambled to his feet and slipped into the bedroom. Faith stood aside with the doctor while Adam made his way to the bed.

Duke grimaced in pain as he manipulated his good arm from beneath the covers. He gripped Adam’s hand and tugged until Adam was sitting on the mattress beside him. “I understand you’ve been waiting to see me,” he said, sounding more alert but also in more pain.

“Yes, sir.” Adam lowered his chin, but Faith could see his throat working, and she knew he was crying. “I saw the gun in Stone’s hand, and I wanted to warn you, but I couldn’t get the words out.”

Duke hooked his hand behind Adam’s neck and pulled the boy into a one-armed hug. Emotion clogged Faith’s throat. So that’s why Adam had needed to see Duke; he needed Duke’s manly shoulder and his forgiveness.

“I saw the gun too, son.”

Adam sat up, his face wet. “You knew Stone had it?”

“Yes. And I knew he’d try to shoot me, but I wanted to get that revolver away from him before he could hurt someone else. I knew the risk, and I took it. You did everything right, Adam. Without your help, Cora and I might not be here. You did exactly what I told you to do, and that means a lot.”

“I wish I could have got Cora away before Stone grabbed her.”

“And I wish I could have wrestled that revolver away from Stone before he shot me or pointed it at your sister’s head. We both did the best we could.” Duke sighed, then winced, and Faith could see the effort it took him just to talk. “I need a favor,” he said.

“Yes, sir. Anything you want.”