by Joyce Alec
The front door was still ajar. Pulling it shut, she leaned against it for a moment and let out a long breath, feeling a little less panicked now that she’d made it home without any sign of Simon. However, she wasn’t finished yet.
“Annie?”
“I’m here,” she said, as Laura appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. “How is he?”
Laura shook her head. “I don’t know. He won’t wake up, but there’s no more bleeding.”
That, at least, was a good sign. “I know you need my help, Laura, but I’ve just got to lock things up tight. I’ll not be long. It’s important.”
If Laura didn’t understand this, she didn’t give any appearance of curiosity. Instead, she just nodded and stepped back into the kitchen.
Annie threw herself into action. Shutters were pulled and locked. Drapes hung down, keys were turned until Annie knew she was as safe as she could be. Her goods from the mercantile still lay all over the floor. Now, beginning to feel rather fatigued, she took them all into the kitchen. Joe was lying right where Annie had left him, his eyes closed tight. From the glow of the fire, she could see dark patches on his face, growing aware that one of his eyes was almost swollen shut.
Her stomach dropped to her toes. Something was very wrong here.
“Please,” Laura said, coming over to her. “Can you help him? I’ve cleaned up his shoulder with the hot water, but he just won’t wake up!” Panic flooded her expression as she hurried over to Annie, her fingers grasping her arm. “I don’t know what to do.”
Neither do I.
Whilst Annie had often had to help her father out of a few scrapes, she’d never had to deal with a bullet. Steeling herself, she walked towards Joe and knelt down on the floor.
“Wash out one of those cloths in cold water and put it on his forehead,” she said, as Laura wrung her hands. “You’ll find a basin just over there.”
Clearly relieved to have something to do, Laura scurried away at once, as Annie looked down at the man on the floor. He was younger than she’d expected, probably only a few years older than she was, but he was bruised and battered as if he’d been in a fight.
What’s happened to you? she thought, as she ran one hand over his forehead, brushing away the dark hair in preparation for the cool cloth. And who shot you?
Her eyes landed on the hole in his shoulder, seeing it still oozing. Her lips twisted in concern.
“Help me to turn him,” Annie murmured, as Laura came back with the cloth. “I need to see if the bullet has gone straight through.”
A quiet groan came from Joe’s limp form as the two women lifted him carefully. Relieved that there was an exit wound, Annie let him back down slowly. His eyes were still closed, his jaw still slack, but he was clearly in a good deal of pain.
“I think we should stitch it,” Annie said, as decisively as she could. “It’ll close the wound. I haven’t stitched a bullet wound before, but I’ve sure stitched plenty of other things.” She thought back to the time her father had caught himself on a jagged nail, ripping his arm deeply. He’d told her exactly what to do and how to do it and, somehow, despite the fact she’d only been ten years old, she’d managed to do it just right. Since then, she’d stitched more than a few wounds, but never a bullet wound.
“Do you know what to do?” Laura asked, looking down at her brother anxiously.
Annie nodded. “Yes. I just need to get a needle, thread, hot water, whiskey, and something to bandage it. Stay with him. I’ll be right back.”
Half an hour later and Annie sat back on her heels, exhausted. She’d cleaned the wound with the hot water and whiskey, which had made Joe groan aloud again, his eyes fluttering for a moment before he’d sunk back into unconsciousness. Laura had whispered a few encouraging things into his ear, her eyes sparkling with tears whilst Annie had done her best to sew up the wound.
It was a messy job, and certainly, her hands had been shaking at one point, but she’d managed it well enough. There wasn’t any more blood, and despite his bruises and scrapes, he was breathing easier and certainly looked a lot less like he was about to collapse at death’s door.
And, so far, there hadn’t been any sign of Simon.
“Good,” Annie murmured, getting to her feet, picking up a blanket from the chair and spreading it out over Joe. “I think he’ll be just fine now, Laura. You need to get something to eat, I reckon. We both do.”
Laura didn’t move from where she knelt next to her brother, her eyes lingering on his face. “Do you think he’ll wake up soon?” she asked, half slumping to the floor.
Annie, a little alarmed at how pale Laura was getting, reached down to grasp her arm gently. “I’m sure he will,” she replied with as much assurance as she could. “Come here. Sit down. You need to rest before you collapse.”
Thankfully, Laura went willingly and sat down into the soft seat Annie helped her into. Despite the shaking of her own limbs and the tiredness seeping into her bones, she forced herself to make a pot of tea. Setting out the mugs and the small jug of milk, she left Laura to pour the tea before pulling out a few cakes and other baked goods that she’d had left over. She’d been intending to make dinner once she’d arrived home, but now she didn’t think she had the energy to begin chopping up vegetables. The cakes would have to do.
“You sure are awfully kind,” Laura murmured, taking a long sip of her tea before setting it down again on the table. “Taking in two strangers like we are, and then helping Joe with his shoulder.” Her eyes turned to her brother again, her cheeks still far too pale for Annie’s liking.
“Eat something,” Annie said, pushing the plate towards her. “You need to eat, Laura. You’re tired.”
As if snapped out of a trance, Laura jumped slightly and turned back towards Annie.
“Please,” Annie encouraged, gesturing to the cakes. After a moment, Laura took one and bit into it whilst Annie refilled her tea. They were going to need a good deal of sustenance if they intended to stay awake and wait for Joe to recover. Silently, she prayed that something, anything, would keep Simon away from the house tonight. She had enough to deal with already.
Tiredness tugged at her eyelids, but she forced herself to remain awake with an effort. The tea and cakes were helping chase her exhaustion away a little, but she was still done in. However, as she looked at Laura, she felt curiosity nudge at her. Where had this woman come from? As far as she knew, there was nothing past Fair Springs—not for miles. The next small town was Steerhorn, which was more than a day’s ride away. Surely, they couldn’t have come from there?
“Can I ask you something?” Annie asked softly, seeing Laura’s eyes begin to droop. “Do you have somewhere to go? Were you headed into town?”
To her horror, Laura began to cry softly, her head dropping to her chest as her shoulders shook. Stunned at the sudden reaction, Annie sat where she was, not moving, not speaking, just simply waiting for Laura to explain.
“I’m sorry,” Laura whispered eventually, wiping her eyes. “It’s just that this is all my fault.”
“Your fault?” Annie repeated, confused. “How can this all be to do with you?”
Laura shook her head, sniffing as she looked at her brother. “I’m the reason he got shot. I’m the reason he’s lying here now, broken to bits.”
Annie tried to smile encouragingly. “He ain’t broken, Laura. He’ll recover just fine. I was only asking in case there was someone in town waiting for you.”
Slowly, Laura’s eyes met her own. “No, there ain’t anyone waiting. No one knows us here. In fact, it’d probably be best if it was kept that way.”
Something heavy dropped into Annie’s stomach. “You don’t want anyone to know you’re here?”
Shaking her head firmly, Laura wiped her eyes again. “No. I don’t.”
Annie twisted her head to look down at Joe, suddenly fearing that she’d brought something dark, something malevolent into her home, simply by being kind. Was there something about this man, someth
ing about the two of them, that was dangerous? Could she really trust them? Why didn’t Laura want anyone to know they were here?
Annie frowned. “Why?”
“Annie!”
Her breath flew from her lungs. Her body froze in place. Her heart stopped completely for a moment before thundering wildly in her chest, her eyes growing wide with fear.
“Who’s that?” Laura asked, reaching across the table to catch Annie’s hand for a moment. “Annie? Who is it?”
“Let me in, Annie!”
Simon’s voice was loud and fierce, his words slightly slurred. He was back, and he was—as usual—drunk.
“Annie?” Laura was looking at her now with wide eyes, her fingers clutching Annie’s sleeve. “Annie, who is it? Did you send for someone?”
“No,” Annie whispered, trying to push herself out of her chair but having very little success. “No, I didn’t. No one else lives here but me.”
Laura’s white face peered back at her. “Then who is calling for you?”
Annie’s throat constricted. “Simon,” she whispered, fear ricocheting through her and leaving her breathless. “Simon is here. He does this almost every night.”
“But why?”
Closing her eyes, Annie let out a slow breath in a futile attempt to calm her frantic breathing. “He wants my house. He wants my money. He wants me.” Opening her eyes, she looked back at Laura, who was staring at her, horrified. “But I don’t want to give myself to him.”
There was silence for a moment, broken only by the sound of Simon shouting wildly outside.
Then, to Annie’s utter astonishment, Joe suddenly came to life. It was as though the sound of Simon’s voice had brought him back to the present. Laura let out a small shriek of surprise, as Joe clambered to his feet, swaying unsteadily as he looked at Laura first and then at Annie. A puzzled frown puckered his forehead as Simon continued to shout.
“I will have you,” Simon roared, one hand turning the front door handle over and over. “You know I’ll get to you somehow!”
“Sit down, Joe,” Annie said, trying to block out Simon’s threats from her ears. “Perhaps you ought to lie down. I have a room…”
Joe pulled his gun from his waistband. Annie’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening as she stared at it. This had all been one dreadful mistake. She was about to die. This stranger was about to kill her stone dead in her very own home.
“Joe.”
Laura slowly got to her feet.
“Joe, put that down,” she encouraged. “You’re not yourself. You’ve been shot. This here is Miss Annie. She’s helping us.”
“They won’t get you,” he said hoarsely. “I won’t let them.”
The gun wobbled in his hand as he tried to raise it high. Shrinking in her chair, Annie closed her eyes tightly and began to pray silently, thinking it was only a matter of minutes until she went to meet her Maker.
“Joe?” she heard Laura say, a warning in her voice. “Joe, what are you doing? Joe, come back here!”
Throwing herself out of the chair, Annie hurried after Laura, as Joe staggered towards the front door. Her heart was in her mouth, her scream lodged in her throat as she tried to stop Joe from turning the key and opening the door.
“Stay back.”
The warning ebbed through his voice, and although Laura still clung to her brother’s arm, Annie felt herself collapse to the floor. This had all been too much. She couldn’t take any more. The strength left her limbs entirely as Joe turned the door handle, throwing the door open wide. She waited for Simon to charge in, to grab her by the arm, and march her out of the door—only for Joe to lift his arm, his pistol still in hand, and fire out a single shot into the dark night.
4
Everything went quiet. Joe collapsed onto the floor in a heap, Laura stared down at him with her hands covering her mouth. Annie, from where she sat on the floor, waited almost expectantly for Simon to come into the house and take her away. However, as the seconds became minutes, she realized that no one was coming.
And then another, darker fear took hold. What if Joe had shot him?
Her heart shook. It wasn’t that she had any love for Simon, but an armed stranger in her house shooting the town’s blacksmith would raise a lot of questions. There could be blood on her hands.
How she managed to get herself up to standing, she didn’t know, but somehow she got herself to the front door. Looking out into the darkness, she heard a grunt.
Simon was alive.
Relief washed over her. Relief in knowing she wouldn’t have to explain to the town how Simon had ended up dead just outside her house.
Then she heard a horse whinnying. It was followed by the sounds of a scuffle, as though Simon was struggling to push himself up into the saddle, and then the hoofbeats trekking across the sand as he rode away.
She slumped against the doorframe for a long moment, the moon hidden by clouds, as darkness clutched at her mind. Simon wouldn’t be chased away for long. This might only make him all the more determined.
“Annie?”
But then again, there were more pressing things to deal with.
Closing the door slowly, Annie leaned heavily against it and turned the key.
“You’d best get the gun off him,” she said hoarsely. “And then we’re all going to sleep. I can barely stand as it is.”
Laura gave her a jerky nod. “Who was out there?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Annie replied, with a good deal more harshness to her voice than she had intended. “It’s done. Now let’s get your brother back into the kitchen, and then I’ll make up a bed for you.”
“I want to be next to him.”
Annie sighed. “Then I’ll give you a few blankets.”
Not sure how she was going to find the strength to pull the unconscious man back into the kitchen, Annie pushed herself away from the wall. In only a few hours, her entire life had been turned upsides down. Simon had been shot at, she was harboring two complete strangers, and she had bound up a bullet wound to a man’s shoulder. Her thoughts were muddled, her body exhausted, and her spirits sunk lower than ever before. What was she going to do?
“Joe.”
“Annie.”
Annie shook the man’s hand firmly, surprised at the strength that was evident in his grip despite being shot in the shoulder.
“Laura tells me you saved my life,” he continued, in a low voice. “I am sorry for the trouble we’re causing you.”
She held his gaze steadily, taking in the brown eyes and the flecks of gold within them. From all appearances, he seemed quite genuine, but she still had very little idea as to why he’d been shot in the first place.
“I didn’t mean to shoot someone, if that’s what’s happened,” he continued, when she didn’t speak. “Laura told me what happened. I guess I thought it was someone shouting for Laura, and after all that she’s gone through, I just reacted. I sure didn’t mean to hurt no one, especially if they came to help you.”
Annie snorted, turning back to the stove to finish scrambling her eggs. “Simon didn’t come to help me, so don’t worry yourself about that. Besides, I heard him riding away. I’m sure you didn’t injure him too badly—if at all.”
“But he might think it was you with a gun,” Laura replied, as she helped Joe to sit back down in his chair. “What then?”
Frowning, Annie paused for a moment, mid-way through serving the scrambled eggs. She’d not thought of that before. What if Simon did think that she’d been the one with the gun? What if he’d ridden away because he was fearful she’d put it to good use? Up until now, she’d never done anything to try and fight back, to try and force him to leave her alone. Perhaps now, if he thought she’d be willing to shoot at him, he might stay away.
“Then I can’t say that’s a bad thing,” she replied slowly, putting the two plates down on the table before picking up her own. “It’s a long story, but I don’t want that man anywhere near me if I can help it.
Perhaps it’s a good thing you shot at him, Joe. Just so long as you’ve not killed him.”
“Of course,” Joe repeated, watching her closely. “You in some sort of trouble, Miss Annie?”
“Just Annie,” she corrected. “I guess I am in a bit of trouble, but then again, it seems like you are, too.” She arched one eyebrow, setting out the rest of their breakfast on the table. “You haven’t told me how you got yourself shot and pretty badly beaten from the looks of it.” She eyed him closely, seeing the black eye, the deep scratches on his cheek, the redness of his forehead. “And you haven’t told me what you’re doing riding out this way.”
Laura jerked suddenly. “Oh, what about Lark?”
Annie stared at her. Was there another person she didn’t know about?
“Lark is our horse,” Joe explained, seeing Annie’s astonished expression. “Did you find him?”
Understanding at once, Annie nodded slowly seeing Laura settle back into her chair with relief. “He’s in the stables with my mare.”
“Oh, thank you,” Laura replied quickly. “Oh, goodness, Annie, you’ve been so good to us and here we are, two complete strangers to you.” Her eyes dimmed, as she dropped her gaze to the table. “I don’t know what we’re going to do now. We can’t go on like we’d planned, Joe. Not when you’re hurt.”
“I can go on just fine,” Joe replied with a grimace. “Just give me a few days.”
“We don’t have a few days!” Laura exclaimed. “They’ll find us. You know they will.”
Annie, who had been listening to all of this whilst trying her best to appear as though she weren’t paying the slightest bit of attention, looked up.
“Who?” she asked, her gut tightening at the thought of someone chasing after Laura and Joe right in the middle of her house. “Who’s coming, Laura? What are you so afraid of?”
She caught the warning look Joe sent his sister as she turned her head to glance at him, her stomach now twisting and churning about. Setting her fork down, she leaned a little closer to Laura. “If you want to stay here with me, then I need to know.”
