Tried and True (Wild at Heart Book #1)

by Mary Connealy

  Inch by inch, Aaron continued to lower Shannon, with Nev taking her legs and lowering her some more. It was still a long reach to get Shannon to the ground.

  Sunrise returned with a horse just as Kylie was trying to figure out what they’d do now. Bailey swung up on horseback and caught Shannon around the shoulders. Aaron lay on the branch on his stomach, still hanging on to Shannon.

  “I’ve got her!” Bailey said.

  Aaron let go. With Sunrise’s help, they eased Shannon the rest of the way to the ground while Aaron and Nev rushed down from their perch.

  Everyone circled Shannon.

  “Let me get a better look,” Nev said, pushing past everyone.

  Bailey blocked Nev. “Get away from her!”

  “I can help. I worked some as a medic in the war.”

  “You’re a doctor?” Bailey couldn’t have sounded more skeptical without just plain calling him a liar.

  “I’m not claiming that. What I did was rough medicine, but I learned some things. I can help.” Nev added more quietly, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

  “No, you meant to kill all of us.”

  “She’s still bleeding. Please, let me help.”

  “I’m right here, Bailey,” Aaron said, “and I won’t let him hurt her.” He had that implacable tone in his voice—not quite as sharp as when he’d given Bailey an order earlier, but hard to disobey just the same.

  Kylie didn’t trust Nev either, but she trusted Aaron. She touched Bailey’s arm. “Let him doctor her.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nev said again. “Let me make this right.”

  Only distantly did Kylie realize that Nev was saying “her.” He had been all along. He wasn’t fooled into believing Shannon was a man. Bailey either, most likely. The disguises were worthless.

  Bailey gave way.

  Nev dropped to his knees beside Shannon. Sunrise moved to the other side before Bailey could. The older woman pulled a pack open that must have come from her horse. She had bundles of cloth and other things Kylie didn’t recognize. Along with every other skill, Sunrise had them beat at doctoring.

  Bailey knelt at Shannon’s head, while Aaron went to Kylie’s side. He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close. They watched together. Nev talked quietly as he bandaged her head wound, then turned his attention to her arm.

  Nev looked up at Aaron. “I hope the arm bone isn’t broken. A bone broken by a bullet is often shattered and rarely heals well. In fact . . .” Nev quit talking so suddenly, Kylie’s eyes riveted on him.

  “In fact what?” she asked.

  Nev shook his head and went back to winding a long strip of white cloth around two sturdy sticks Bailey had scrounged up to be used as a splint on Shannon’s upper arm.

  Bailey caught Nev’s arm so hard he winced. “In fact what? Tell us!”

  Nev became shaky again. He’d been handling things well, but it came back to Kylie real hard that only moments ago he’d been on the verge of killing them, then himself. This wasn’t a strong man, mentally or physically.

  Finally, Nev looked at Kylie, then at Bailey. “Most gunshot bones d-don’t heal. Most end in . . . in amputation.”

  Bailey’s eyes went wide. “No!”

  “You’re not touching my sister with a knife,” Kylie said, her expression firm.

  Aaron’s arm tightened on her waist. She wasn’t sure if he meant to comfort her or hold her back.

  Neville’s eyes flickered fearfully between Bailey and Kylie. “It doesn’t look like the bone needs to be set, but I can’t be sure of anything until we can wash the wound thoroughly. I’m splinting the arm just to keep it still. When I’m done, we’ll need to get her home and in bed. Aaron, you and Kylie figure out a way to move her.”

  “Our house is closest,” Aaron said.

  “The travois,” Bailey said to Kylie.

  Kylie nodded. “We’ll leave the stove.”

  Shannon moaned and tossed her head, the first sign of life. Kylie wanted to cry with relief.

  “Are you done, Nev?” Aaron asked. “If so, I’ll carry her to the main trail.” He waited until Nev gave him a nod before gathering Shannon up in his arms.

  “I’ve done all I can here,” Nev said. “Let’s get moving.”

  The man sounded confident, with no trace of the hatred and killing rage that had driven him out here. Where had it gone? Would it come back when they least expected it?

  Kylie looked at Bailey. Their gazes caught, and they both nodded. They wouldn’t leave this man alone with Shannon. They’d let him care for her—they could see he had doctoring skills—but that was a long way from trust. One of them would stay with her at all times.

  Kylie and Bailey headed for the travois, with Aaron right on their heels carrying Shannon.

  Aaron’s new cabin was now a hospital. And the doctor oughta be a patient.

  By the time Nev finished cleaning and binding up Shannon’s wounds, he decided her arm wasn’t broken, and she’d regained consciousness enough to start fretting about her sheep.

  Sunrise left Nev to his doctoring once she was satisfied he was capable. She brought down a buck and before long had stew ready for all of them. Even vegetable-loving Shannon had a bowl of the stew.

  “I will get to work on this deer hide. We can make a pair of pants and a jerkin for your friend,” Sunrise said to Aaron.

  A good thing, because Aaron had burned Nev’s clothes. He also saw him through a desperately needed bath, which showed Nev’s body to be riddled with old scars and newer unhealed sores. His body would be months healing. Aaron wouldn’t give up until his friend’s mind was healed, too.

  The haircut Sunrise gave Nev reminded Aaron of the one she’d given Tucker. Sunrise had a talent for taming wild men, or at least for taming their hair.

  They got Nev into bed, and with two people in the hospital ward there was now nowhere to sleep. Bailey had led the rest of her remuda here and dumped everything on the floor. The stove was still back on the trail. Bailey had run home to do her chores and then returned, determined to keep a wary eye on Nev, which Aaron understood. Sunrise also looked to be staying the night.

  Seeing his chance to get his brand-spanking-new wife alone, Aaron volunteered to do Shannon’s chores and sleep at her cabin. A fair trade, even if it did mean he’d have to face down a smelly flock of sheep.

  Holding her hand, Aaron led Kylie to the corral. He grabbed her saddle, and she grabbed his.

  Scowling, Aaron said, “Let me do both saddles. This is man’s work.”

  Kylie gave him a pert smile. “I agree, and I like it that you want to take over the manly jobs, but I want to get on down the trail. So, if you don’t mind, rather than stand by and watch while you do twice the work, I’ll saddle a horse.”

  Aaron wanted to be alone with her mighty bad. “At least do your own. The saddle is lighter.”

  “Gladly.” They switched horses and were on their way in half the time.

  As they rode into the setting sun, through the dappled light of the forest, Aaron wondered just how worn out she was. She’d worked hard all morning, packing up her cabin, before all this trouble started. And the day wasn’t over yet.

  It was late enough when they got to Shannon’s that even her sheep came in with little coaxing. They didn’t need to be carried in each night, after all. Shannon was obviously babying them.

  Heading for the house at the end of a dreadful day, Aaron took Kylie’s hand. “I figured something out today, sweetheart.”

  She turned to him and smiled. Her hair was all jumbled, spilled down around her shoulders. There were dark circles under her eyes. Getting kidnapped and tending a bleeding sister made a mess of a woman.

  And yet she was still the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

  “What’s that?” she said.

  “I’ve got a lot more work before this job is done. Shannon is going to need some care before she’s healed up, and I can’t abandon Nev until I’m sure he’s all right. I don’t
know how long all that will take.”

  “However long it takes, we’ll take it.”

  Aaron’s grip tightened. “I do know that when we’re done with it all, when Nev is better, I want to go home.”

  “That’s fine. I can be happy at a ranch in the mountains, so long as I’m with you.”

  She always knew that this was what it meant to marry him, even if she hadn’t liked it. There’d been no other way, so she’d agreed. But now here she was, willingly saying she’d follow him and be happy about it. A woman did that for a man she loved.

  “So if I decide to go home to the Shenandoah Valley, you’ll come with me.” He led her inside another well-built Wilde cabin.

  Kylie gasped. Her eyes brightened. Despite her exhaustion, she suddenly looked wide awake. “Really? You’ve decided to go back? But I thought after today, after seeing how ugly Nev got, even though he seems to have decided to move on past his hate, you know there will be others who—”

  “But that’s what made me change my mind,” Aaron interrupted. “The fact that he’d come all this way made me realize I need to go back. I realized while I raced for you, terrified he’d get to you before I did, that I hadn’t left all that hate behind. It followed me. I was giving up all that was good about my home in exchange for peace. But in the end I had no peace and no home. I decided then I’d take you back to Virginia. I knew that two people who truly loved each other, with God on their side, could make a new life together.”

  “Two people who love each other,” Kylie said. “Are you saying you love me, Aaron?”

  “I am, Kylie Masterson.” Aaron pulled her close. “I knew it before I saw Nev with a gun to your head. As he held you there, though, and I thought he might kill you, the depth of it almost tore me apart.”

  She rested her head against his chest. “When you holstered your gun and took that step forward, I knew what you were thinking. I saw in your eyes you were willing to lay down your life for your friend. The goodness and decency stole my breath, Aaron. And wonderful as it was, if your crazy friend hadn’t had me by the throat, I’d have kicked you right in the backside. I already thought what I felt for you was love, but that’s when I knew for sure, because the thought of you dying was unbearable.”

  Aaron lifted her chin and kissed her until the frightening memory faded, and then he kissed her some more.

  He was a long time saying, “We’ll stay as long as we need to.”

  She said in a rather bewildered voice, “Here? At Shannon’s?”

  He laughed. “No. We’ll stay here in Aspen Ridge. Then we’ll go on to Shenandoah. It won’t be civilized, not at first. But with time I hope I can give you your dream of tea parties and bonnets and . . .”

  Aaron stopped talking and broke into a laugh. He took her by the shoulders and pushed her to arm’s length.

  “What’s so funny?” A furrow of annoyance appeared on Kylie’s smooth brow.

  “I just realized you’re wearing britches.” He laughed again.

  Kylie looked down at herself and back up, blushing. “I forgot I even had them on. I let Bailey convince me to wear them while we moved.” She smiled. “I really do want to live near civilization, Aaron, but there are a few things about living a more manly life that are quite convenient.”

  Aaron shook his head and chuckled.

  “You can quit laughing at me now.”

  He let go of her shoulders and scrubbed both hands over his face. “Don’t you see? I’m apologizing to you for the rugged way we’ll have to live when we rebuild, and all the while you’re standing here in britches and I didn’t even notice.”

  He kissed her long and hard. “I think that civilized world you want so badly back in Virginia is never going to be the same after it meets you, Kylie Wilde Masterson.” As he drew her toward the bedroom, he added, “I know I never will be.”

  1

  AUGUST 1, 1866

  ASPEN RIDGE, DAKOTA TERRITORY/IDAHO TERRITORY BORDER

  Matt Tucker could take people for only so long and then he had to get up into the mountains. All the way up—where he was more likely to run into a golden eagle than a man. He’d wander in the thin, pure air for a week or two, to clear his thoughts. Forget the smell and behavior of men.

  He slung a haversack over his shoulder—the pack contained everything he needed to live—and rambled up a trail that’d scare the hair off a mountain goat. He’d left his horse behind, wanting to travel light and go places even his tough gray mustang couldn’t go.

  This time it wasn’t men driving him to the high-up peaks. This time it was a certain head full of black curls and a pair of shining blue eyes. Not a man—though no one would admit it—which was so odd he almost turned around.

  In fact, he wanted to turn around so badly he walked faster.

  That hair and those eyes were why he wasn’t paying attention, which was a good way to get a man killed in wild country.

  He scooted past a boulder on a trail as narrow as coal-black lashes on bright blue eyes, then rounded a curve as tight as black curls—and stomped on the toe of a bear cub.

  A squall drew his eyes down. A roar dragged them up. He looked into the gaping maw of an angry mama grizzly. He hadn’t heard her or smelled her. Honestly, that was so careless and stupid he almost deserved to die.

  She swung a massive paw, and he had no time to dodge. She knocked him over the side of that mountain. Not a cliff, but the next thing to it. He slammed into an aspen. He bounced off. Dirt flew around him, and he gasped from the pain and sucked a mouthful of grit into his lungs. He plummeted.

  He hit the next aspen so hard his ribs howled in pain. He grabbed, trying to stop his plunge. Branches cracked, and he lost hold. Loosened stones pelted and clattered, falling along with him.

  He snagged. His arms, legs, and torso whipped forward, but his haversack held. It had saved him.

  He heard a roar that brought his head around.

  The mama wasn’t satisfied with knocking him off a mountain. She was coming and coming fast, finding a way down somehow. She was running almost as quickly as he’d fallen, closing in with teeth bared. He had no time to think up any crafty plans.

  With sickening inevitability, Tucker had no choice but to tear the sack’s strap loose from the tree and let himself fall on down, with no idea where the bottom was, only knowing stopping made him grizzly food.

  He rolled on, hitting one tree after another, grasping at trunks, trying to slow his fall. One tumble landed him on his back, and he gained his feet, ran a few steps, tripped over a stone, dove face first, and twisted into a shoulder roll to keep from breaking his neck.

  A long, high yell ripped from his throat. Tucker saw no point in being quiet about this.

  He hit his head hard enough he thought maybe he heard angels singing, or birds tweeting, or maybe both or neither. That bear roared above the music, and Tucker kept on falling. Finally he slammed into level ground and stopped, sprawled flat on his back. He flicked his eyes open, knowing he had to get up and run. The bear was bound to still be coming.

  His blurred vision filled with a cap of black curls and the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen.

  Well, no. Not ever.

  Because he’d seen them before on the roof of Aaron and Kylie Masterson’s cabin. He wanted to just lie there and look at those eyes forever.

  And then that dratted bear roared and those blue eyes, looking at him all worried, glanced uphill and the concern turned to horror.

  The pretty little filly reached down, grabbed Tucker by the front of his shirt, and hauled him upright. What was she going to do, throw him over her shoulder and run? He didn’t think that was going to work. He was about six inches taller and outweighed her by one hundred pounds.

  But Mama Grizz was coming, so someone was going to have to do something. They couldn’t stay here, and Tucker wasn’t sure he was up to moving on his own. Of course he’d only had about two seconds to think about it. He hadn’t really tried.

  “Hang on!”
She shoved him backward, clinging so tight it was like he’d gotten a second pack hooked on.

  She screamed.

  They flew. There was no more rolling. No more aspens. No more rocks. They soared.

  Tucker saw the walls of the cliff rushing past and knew where they were. Worse yet, he knew where they were going to land. “Are you crazy?”

  He’d just been killed by a woman as wild as he was. Well, he wasn’t killed yet. But it was only a few seconds ahead of them.

  The bear roared overhead.

  The black-curled woman shouted, “I hope Bailey’s not too stubborn to tend my sheep!”

  “I hate sheep.”

  They hit the water so hard it was like slamming into granite.

  The water took over trying to kill him as it swept him forward, pulled him under, and slammed him into a wall all at the same time, then threw him over another cliff.

  The Shoshone called this the Slaughter River.

  Those little black curls that had him so curious—and the woman they were attached to—had just thrown him into the worst stretch of water maybe in the whole Rocky Mountains. What did Tucker know? Maybe in the whole world. A stretch so wild Tucker had never heard of anyone riding through it alive, though he’d heard of a few dead bodies being fished out on the far end.

  They hit the roiling foam at the bottom of the waterfall. The first of seven. Each one worse than the one before.

  All he could do now was hang onto the woman and try to keep them both alive, which he very much doubted he could do.

  He grabbed the whip he kept on his belt and lashed them together. It seemed like the gentlemanly thing.

  He slammed up against a rock and was dragged under and took her with him. His attempt to save her might get her killed. Maybe he oughta let her loose. Before he could give that plan much thought, they went flying again. She screamed in his ear fit to leave him deaf for the rest of his life. Of course, his life probably wasn’t gonna be all that long so what did it matter if he was deaf?

  Blast it, all he’d wanted was to go see a few golden eagles. Was that too much to ask?