Loving the Lawmen

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Loving the Lawmen Page 80

by Marie Patrick


  His opponent butted his head into Ev’s, at the same moment reaching for and closing blistered fingers around Ev’s neck in a breath-stealing grip.

  Ev inhaled, but the fingers circling his throat denied the smallest breath. His eyes teared, and his vision grayed. Momentum carried him upward and back. He ended straddled atop the man where Ev struck out blindly. Fist pummeled after fist, connecting with his opponent’s head. Bones crunched. Answering pain jolted up Ev’s arms, but he kept striking. One fist landed in the soft flesh of an eye. Ev’s fingers opened and gouged as his other fist continued to pound.

  The constriction around Ev’s throat loosened. He sucked in air and struck on until he became aware of something beating on his shoulders. He realized the man beneath him lay slack. Snarling, Ev turned on his new attacker. At the last moment he shifted his aim, and his fist glanced off Kiera’s shoulder.

  She reeled with the blow, nonetheless.

  “Kiera!” He lunged for her, caught her and rolled to hit the ground with his back, protecting her from harm.

  Except that he hadn’t. He’d hit her himself. Panic roared through him. His hands rushed over her, checking to see how badly he’d harmed her. “I’m sorry Kiera. Please, Kiera. Tell me where you’re hurt. I’ll fix it. I promise. I’ll make it up to you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

  She shook in his arms.

  She was crying. He clasped her to his chest. He’d give whatever life he had left if it would keep her from pain and harm.

  She pushed at his chest though she still shook. “Let. Me. Up.” She gasped the words as if she couldn’t breathe.

  He released her. She fell sideways to lie beside him. Her chest heaved, and she curled onto her side. “Ha, ha, ha … ”

  She wasn’t crying. She was laughing. What the heck did she think was so funny about him attacking her, hurting her? Was she laughing at him? He hurt too much to share her amusement. Waiting, he lie there, temper on the rise.

  When she’d laughed herself out and sat grinning before him.

  “Want to share the joke,” he managed to grit out.

  “It isn’t funny. Not really.”

  “Funny enough for you to go off in gales.”

  “I’m sorry about that, but you caught me off balance. I wasn’t expecting you to try to hit me.”

  Instantly contrite, Ev frowned. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “I know.” She smiled.

  Something tightened around his heart. Not a surprise, considering the fight he’d just been in. “I was berserk. That crook tried to kill us in our sleep.”

  “You should have woken me. I’d have shot him. That close I probably couldn’t miss.”

  “No time.”

  Her expression sobered, and her lips took on a stern bent.

  “You’re injured and running a fever and in no shape to beat a man senseless.”

  He cast a glance at where the man, he now recognized as Cream, sprawled. “But I did, didn’t’ I?”

  She nodded. “I can’t say I’m unhappy about that, but I am worried about you recovering. I’ll get our friend tied up then you’ll let me take a look at every nick and scratch.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  • • •

  Whoever tied the ropes binding his wrists and ankles had done a good job. But his hands should have been tied behind him. As it was, getting free would be easy once he figured out how. He’d been working at the bindings since the woman had fallen asleep, and he still couldn’t get loose. When his efforts wore him out he rested, trying to think of how to get free, so he could kill these two and vamoose out of here. As he surveyed the small space of the cave with his one good eye, his glance fell on the marshal’s badge. It was one of those pointy star deals. With a little work the edge of one of those points could cut through the ropes. All he had to do was get the thing.

  He was lucky, the marshal never noticed. Too gone in fevered dreams to be aware of when his captive rolled across the cave and fumbled the badge off the marshal’s chest. Cutting the rope took time, but the marshal and the woman slept on. He was so focused on them that once his bonds broke he failed to notice the wolf that had crept into the cave and now crouched at the marshal’s feet.

  Pocketing the badge, he stared at the wolf. He didn’t fear much, but without a gun or a knife, he had the sense to be afraid of the long sharp teeth exposed by the wolf’s silent snarl. Big Si hadn’t paid him enough to fight unarmed against wolves.

  “Fine,” he whispered. “You go ahead and have yourself a nice meal of marshal and horse thief. I’ll just mosey along and leave you to it.”

  He edged slowly along the rock wall, following it around the entrance to outside the cave. Only then did he run, intent on putting as much distance as possible between him and those teeth.

  • • •

  “No! I’ll kill you first.”

  Kiera leapt up grabbing for her weapons to find Ev doing battle with the buffalo robe. Cream was nowhere to be seen. If he’d escaped, he wasn’t an immediate threat, so she’d worry about the claim jumper later.

  She knelt by Ev’s side. What demons did he battle? Who would he kill first and why? The sheen of sweat on his bare torso told her his fever still raged. She got water and a rag and began to bathe him, stroking his face, neck and chest while avoiding his flailing fists. The cool water soothed him, and his battle was short-lived. His arms fell to his sides. When she finished with his body, she went to start again at his head and found his honey brown eyes staring at her.

  “Did I hurt you again?”

  “No.” She shook her head.

  “That water feels good. Could I have a drink?”

  She set the rags aside and got him fresh water to drink. “Tell me who you were going to kill?”

  “Huh?”

  She held his gaze. “I woke up because you were shouting that you’d kill someone first and beating that robe like it was Cream.”

  Ev broke the stare. “Speaking of our guest, where is he?”

  Kiera shook her head. “From the look of those ropes, he must have found something to fray them and decided to clear out. Wildfire’s moved on, and if he travels in the opposite direction he should be okay. Going’s easier that way, but there’s less water. In his condition, he’ll be lucky to survive. Now why don’t you answer my question?”

  Ev turned his head away. “It shames me, because I was fighting my father.”

  “You wanted to kill your father?”

  Ev shook his head. “I wanted to save my mother and sister from another beating. My daddy had a quick and violent temper. He was a preacher, the hellfire and brimstone kind. He saw himself as God’s weapon against sin and evil. ‘Course everything my daddy didn’t like was sin and anything that opposed him was evil. Every time his circuit brought him home, Momma, Lillith, and I lived in fear. I went out looking for work one day—we never had money. Daddy thought money was evil—unless it was his. Anyway, I went looking for work and came home to find him walloping Momma. Momma had told my sister to hide, but I was old enough and big enough, I gave him the beating he deserved, and told him I’d kill him first before I’d let him come back home.”

  Throughout the recital, Ev’s tone had been flat. He reached out for the cup of water.

  Kiera handed it over. She’d listened in silence. She knew the horror of being in the charge of an adult who was callous and cruel and who used any excuse to do violence to those he should cherish. Grandfather held beliefs similar to those of Ev’s father, but at least she’d always had care afterward. From what Ev said, it sounded like the circuit riding preacher didn’t provide much of anything for his family but pain. “Did he ever try to return?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Ev lowered the cup. It shook in his hand, so Kiera took it from him, replacing it with her hand. She gave a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

  “Momma didn’t survive that beating.” Ev continued, his voice not quite as steady, grief lurking behind his gaze. “Her heart was
as broken as her body. She’d dreamed all her life of settling down and raising a family with the man she loved. Well, the man she loved turned out to be a monster who couldn’t settle and probably hated her for wanting him to. In the end, I think she gave up because she knew Lillith and I no longer needed anyone to stand between us and my father. The day we buried Momma, I put my sister on the train to our aunt and uncle in Chicago. I haven’t been back since and haven’t heard anything from Chicago. ‘Course, I’m on the move, so if any mail finds me it’s always months—sometimes years—late.”

  Kiera had no words of comfort. She’d lost her sisters, but at least they were still alive; she hoped. “Yet you became a marshal?”

  “Yes, a representative of the law. The law is impartial. It doesn’t have personal feelings about anyone or anything. The law applies universally, not just to those folks who happen to look at you the wrong way, or pray the wrong way, or look different than you.”

  His voice picked up a passionate note. His hand gripped hers firmly.

  “You could be a sheriff and represent the law. Yet you chose to take work that would make you wander like your daddy.”

  “I’m nothing like my daddy.” Ev growled and glared at her. “And if I wander, it’s because I’ve seen the harm done by trying to settle in one place.”

  She ignored his ire, but her heart hurt. If she didn’t hang, she planned to live the rest of her life in Smoke Valley—with or without her sisters, with or without this man. Part of her wished Ev thought differently, because she did not believe there was any other man she’d want to live with for the rest of her life. One way or another her time with Ev was coming to an end.

  • • •

  Several mornings later Kiera entered the cave with the meager supply of firewood she’d scrounged from spots around the waterfall where the wildfire hadn’t burned. The good thing was that the wood was dry. The bad thing was that the wood was so dry it would burn fast. She’d laid in what might normally be a three day supply—only luck would make it last that long. She set the wood on the pile she’d made near Ev’s left shoulder then bent to check on him.

  A week had passed since the attack and firestorm; Ev’s fever still flushed his cheeks. He wasn’t keeping food down, and the wound on his thigh was swollen and ringed with hot red skin that faded to yellow.

  She might manage to get him on a horse and keep him in the saddle long enough to ride up the cliffside to the pools. But once there, she wouldn’t be able to get the horse to the pool. She’d have to drag Ev over hundreds of feet of rocks. Even in his weakened state he was too heavy for her. She nearly wept with frustration. The means to save him lay a short distance away, and she couldn’t get him there. The best she could do was to fill a skin with water from the healing pool and hope that it would reduce Ev’s inflammation sufficiently to let him survive until help could arrive.

  She wished she remembered more of Spirit Talker’s lessons on medicinal plants, but she’d been too pre-occupied taking photographs of them. If she could get him to the healing, hot spring, that would solve the problem Photographs, now burnt to cinders, which might have helped to identify those plants, if any survived, and maybe keep Ev alive. She’d done what she could, but knew it was not enough.

  She felt his forehead again and found him still impossibly warm. His eyes opened. She waited, her gaze linked with his. Most of the time, he was out of his head, raving about his daddy and momma. However, he had his lucid moments—moments when he refused to admit he needed help. He’d urge her to leave him and run while she had the chance because he’d only hold her back.

  “Good morning, beautiful.” He formed a small smile.

  She tried to smile back at him.

  “What day is it?”

  She wanted to lie, to tell him that only a day had passed, but he’d never believe her. “A week since the fire started.”

  He frowned. “What are you still doing here? If the Shoshone kill Boyd because you waited for me to die, the two of us’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.”

  “I’m giving you the best chance I can to survive. Water from the healing pool is in this skin. You’ll need to soak your wound with it twice a day. Firewood’s here on your left.” She pulled back to let him see the water skin and meager stack of fuel. “The horses have enough feed to last them, and since there’s no grass left, they probably won’t wander farther than the waterfall. Just don’t let them trample you. Other supplies are behind your head. Easy reach, but you’re between them and any hungry critters looking for food. All the guns and ammunition are on your right.”

  “You can’t ride for five days through rough country without firearms.” The strength of his objection blazed in his fever bright eyes though his voice was thready and his lips trembled.

  One corner of her mouth kicked up as she lifted his head to give him water. “You and I both know I couldn’t hit anything chasing me or that I might be chasing. I won’t be stopping to hunt. I’ve got my knife for protection, and that’s all I’m going to need. I’m leaving the photographs with you, so you’ll know I’ll be back with Muh’Weda and Boyd in no time.”

  His mouth formed a thin line.

  She knew he wanted to object but was too weak for any sustained discussion. Besides, he couldn’t stop her, wouldn’t if he could. Her leaving had been his idea. Finally, she hadn’t disagreed. With time dwindling, chances of saving Boyd’s life were greater than chances for Ev’s survival even if she stayed. Nonetheless, she wished he could stop her from going. She wished he wanted her to stay instead of sacrificing his life for Boyd’s. She wished she was the one injured. She wished a thousand different things, but had to deal with the ones she had.

  “It’s still early,” he whispered. “Leave now and make the most of the daylight.”

  She swallowed a protest, knowing he was right. Then she leaned forward, brushing her lips across his. “Don’t die on me. Promise!”

  A dry chuckle twisted his entire frame. “I’ll do my best. I promise.”

  His kiss lingered on her lips, as she went.

  • • •

  The days and nights blended. Ev tried to keep track. Dreams of his father beating him or his sister for some unfathomable sin mixed with brief delusions that Kiera had returned and nightmares of burning wolves attacking the horses. Something must have happened because the horses were gone. He had a vague memory of two wolves roaming just outside the cave. The horses had panicked, and he’d rolled out of the way to avoid their wild charge. He hoped they were okay. His bay had served him well and long and didn’t deserve to become wolf fodder. The wolves should have pursued the mounts. However, his fevered brain planted the pair inside the front of the cave and, waking or sleeping, kept them there. Their hot fetid breath caressed his dreams. Their rough fur prickled his delirium. Why didn’t they just eat him and get it over with?

  He was in and out of fever-induced madness so much that he couldn’t be certain if minutes, hours, or days passed since his last clear moments. The wolves were never present when, shivering as always, he woke, though he could smell them and knew they were near. When he remembered to do it, bathed his wound, stoked the fire, and hoped the feeble blaze would keep the predators away.

  The morning came when he emptied the water skin, placed the last few branches on the coals, and watched them catch. The flame would extinguish before dusk. Freezing to death or feast for wolves, he wouldn’t last the night.

  He prayed then as he rarely did. Prayed for Kiera’s safety, and that the sister he’d lost long ago would forgive him when he met her on his way to heaven or hell. He tried to pray for his father, to forgive the man all the harm he’d done in the name of his god. Ev found the words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t forgive, so he knew he’d end with the devil. He thanked God for the few precious days with Kiera, grateful that he’d had the chance to know her. He closed his eyes on amen, ignored the hunger in his belly, and soon enough slid into the abyss.

  Chapter Nine


  “Ready, Miss Alden?” Lieutenant Eldridge tipped his hat in respect even though Kiera sat manacled in her saddle, the reins of her gray mare held in the firm grip of a grizzled sergeant.

  “If you could give me a private moment with my spirit brother, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Two minutes. No more.” The Lieutenant nodded then walked his horse down the line of troops.

  “I don’t like leaving you alone in the custody of these soldiers,” protested Muh’ Weda.

  “I don’t much like it either, but you can get to Smoke Valley faster than anyone else. I’m counting on you to bring Ev and my photographs to Laramie fast.”

  Neither one of them acknowledged that it would probably be Ev’s body Muh’Weda would bring out of Smoke Valley.

  “You should have headed for Canada the minute the soldiers spotted you trying to get my attention last night.”

  She shook her head. “Even if I could have outrun them, I wouldn’t want to. I need to clear my name. Ev … ” Kiera swallowed a sob. “Ev needs you to bring him to Spirit Talker. If not for Boyd, I’d be with Ev now.”

  Muh’Weda gave her time to compose herself. “I’m sending Boyd with you plus one of my cousins to act as messenger.”

  “No. You’ll need their help with Ev.”

  “I’ll have all the assistance I need. Boyd’s sharper than he looks despite his lack of experience. You need someone on your side to keep you from being railroaded.”

  “I doubt anyone can prevent Big Si from doing that.”

  “Maybe not, but Boyd knows the law. He can slow things down. Maybe long enough for me to catch up with you and help.”

  There wasn’t any help, unless he got those photographs to Laramie before she was hanged, and they both knew it.

  The lieutenant trotted by on his way to the head of the troop. “Mount up.”

  “Time’s up, my friend. Promise me you won’t grieve if the worst happens.” She stretched to touch him but couldn’t quite reach his shoulder.

 

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