High-Riding Heroes

by Joey Light

  Blessedly, hands were reaching down, many, many of them. Unconsciousness wanted to take over as they pulled her and then Joe through the hole. Air. Cool air. She gasped and it ran down her throat and into her lungs, burning almost as badly as the smoke. Water. Wet. Frigid. The icy, cold spray of it dribbled down her face and onto her clothes.

  As she was carried away from the scene, she fought to clear her eyes enough to find Wes. She did. He was running. Running for dear life, clutching his daughter in his arms, her head, arms, and legs flopping like the big gray bunny she always toted and held even now, toward the waiting ambulance. Rescue workers ran alongside administering oxygen. Victoria covered her eyes hoping if she couldn’t see it all, it wouldn’t be happening. But when she dared to look, the barn was fast becoming a heap of cinders. Joe was hurt and was being loaded onto a stretcher. Katie might be dead. Victoria prayed to die.

  Bright lights. Burning lights. Voices. Smoke. Fire. Katie! Oh God, the little girl…have to get to her. My responsibility. My fault. She can’t die. The noise rushed to a deafening roar. Her brain shot messages to her limbs to move but they wouldn’t. She fought. Sirens filled her head and red and blue lights flashed behind her closed eyelids. She was suffocating. She opened her mouth to draw in air, but there was none.

  Crash. Sparks. Flames. Darkness. A tunnel. Long and cool. Someone said her name, slowly, over and over. A hand. The hand of someone she cared for stroked her. She moved toward it.

  Opening her eyes to stark white and a glaring light hurt. She drew her hand up to cover her eyes and found it was stiff and sore. Katie! Joe! Wes! Terror stilled her heart as she remembered. She began to tremble. Opening her mouth to speak, she felt as if she had swallowed a cat with its claws bared. “Katie!” she croaked.

  Then she was in his arms, being pressed against him as he said her name over and over. He rocked her and thanked God and fought the tears that threatened to spill.

  “Katie” was all she could say when she had so many words she wanted him to hear.

  At the weak sound of her scratchy voice, Wes wept. It didn’t matter that Buck stood behind him. It didn’t matter that cowboys don’t cry. He held her and stroked her and let his fear and desperation flow from him. She made it back. She was alive.

  Head bowed, Buck turned and walked slowly toward the door. His hand on the knob, he turned and looked back at them. What had he done? He had never intended any of this to happen when he prepared the fake will…when he figured a way to… A single tear slipped down his age-roughened cheek. He yanked his hat down a little lower and crept quietly from the room.

  To quiet her, he talked to her in a soothing tone. “Katie is okay. A little shaken up. They have to keep her and Joe here a few days for observation but they’re fine. And so are you.” He kissed her forehead, her cheek, her lips, and her hands. “You tore your hands up pretty good. Splinters and a few stitches. Your lungs are still battling with the smoke but in a few days you’ll be right as rain. And you can come home.”

  Home. The word struck her like a baseball bat to the gut. Home. Where was that? Certainly not Glory Town, where she had caused so much trouble. Certainly not the old Wild West town she had cared about and then hated. She held tight to the man she loved so desperately and began to steel herself against what she knew she had to do.

  She had caused too much hurt. Almost death. If there had ever been a minute chance that they could be together, it was gone now. Gone. Vanished. And by her own hand. There was nothing left for her now. Nothing. She couldn’t be the person she wanted to be, pretended to be. It didn’t matter that she loved Wes. That she loved Katie. It couldn’t matter that they loved her. She was no good for them. Never could be after this. How could she live with the knowledge that just because she looked for revenge she had turned Katie over to Joe while she proved a point? Katie had been left with Victoria. That is where she should have stayed.

  Victoria looked at Wes. The traces of tears were gone now. Dark shadows traced under his eyes. One hand was bandaged and she could see his arm was burned. His skin was smudged black. Lines of concern creased his forehead. He was exhausted…and lost. He appeared relieved. There was no look of blame. No hate in his eyes. But he must feel it. She had endangered his child. She had been irresponsible and stupid. But then he had tricked her. Manipulated her. And maybe laughed at her. She pushed his hands away.

  “I want to be alone, Wes,” she cracked. “Leave me alone.”

  If she had hit him with that crowbar, it would have hurt less. “Leave you alone? Not ever again. No. I’m going down the hall to see Katie in a few minutes, but then we’re both going to come back and stay with you a while. Because Katie and Joe were overtaken by the smoke and fell to the ground, they were saved the worst of it.

  It seems as soon as we made the hole in the back wall, air coursed in to them. They’re both okay.”

  He looked at her as if those words were all it was going to take to convince her that things were as they were before. She closed her eyes to his look. “Get out.”

  Stunned, Wes picked up her hand and pressed it to his lips. Too much. It was all too damned much. The nightmare run to the hospital in the back of the ambulance watching them work on his little girl. The knowledge that Victoria was back there somewhere. He had seen them pull her through the hole. Seen her gasp to draw in air. But what condition was she in? How badly was she hurting? The agony had cut through him even in his dazed state.

  Now she was telling him to go away. Shaking his head and realizing everyone was just too emotionally charged to make sense, he bent down and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Lady, I’ve got some things to say to you and not you or anybody is going to keep me from saying them. I never betrayed you. Not like you obviously think. You’ll hear me out. But right now we’ve been through a rough time and I understand. This isn’t the time or the place. Victoria, don’t look at me that way. I almost lost you. You were almost killed.”

  “Me!” She struggled to sit up and slid back down on the cool sheets. “What about you and Joe? And my God, what about Katie? You think this is all about me? You’re crazier than I thought. Get out and stay out. There’s nothing to talk about.” Her body was racked with a coughing spell and her throat burned like hellfire.

  He stroked her back and waited till she settled. “This is only making you worse. I’m going to sit with Katie for a while but I’ll be back.”

  Taking her hand in his, he lifted it to his lips and laid his mouth on the only spot that wasn’t bandaged. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to block the look in his eyes and the pain in her heart.

  Walking to the hallway, he asked the nurse to make sure Victoria was comfortable and then moved one door down and slipped inside to see his daughter.

  She was asleep. Pale and sooty, she lay so still beneath the white sheet. God. He could be looking at her lying in a pine box. Satin all around, little ruffles. He closed his eyes and quietly murmured, “Thank you, God.” He shook his head. He couldn’t dwell on what could have happened. He would go crazy. Stark raving mad. His Katie will be fine. Joe will be fine. And his Victoria had run into the flames to save them both. Everything will right itself, he told himself as he settled in a chair and laid his head down on the bed next to his daughter’s tiny hand that he held so gently. Cool. The sheets were comforting and soft and he was so tired. So damned tired.

  Alone. That was what she deserved. Alone and empty. When Wes left the room, he took all the life with him. She hurt. It hurt to breathe. But the real hurt was deeper, sharper, more lethal.

  Looking around the bed at all the wires and tubes she was hooked to almost made her laugh. So much to keep her alive when she felt so dead inside. Betrayal. The word kept floating around in her hazy brain. The original burst of energy she felt now quickly left her limp and hardly able to move.

  Misery. She had never known the meaning of the word until now. Anguish. Distress. As if there were some magic to protect the suffering, she closed her eyes.

 
; Hearing the door swing open, she looked for Wes but instead a very businesslike nurse came in and injected something in one of the tubes that fed her veins. Victoria watched her walk back out again.

  If he never came back to look at her, to talk to her, it would only be right. Her eyelids were so heavy. Her chest hurt. But if she closed her eyes, if she gave in to the pain in her heart and body…she might never wake again.

  A shadowy form moved slowly toward the bed. “Who…” her mouth seemed stuffed with cotton and her lips wouldn’t form words.

  A warm hand reached out and touched hers, tentatively. It felt good. Contact. Loving, gentle contact. But it wasn’t Wes. She knew his touch so well. It wasn’t his voice. “Who…” Clouds clogged her brain as drug-induced sleep forced her to give in.

  The pain subsided. Thought processes shattered. Light faded. The arms that were wrapped around her made her feel better. The voice, low and consistent, lulled her. She snuggled deeper into the embrace and a low sigh escaped her lips. Darkness took over.

  Nick moaned and brought her lax body closer to his. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her but if he did she wouldn’t like him anymore. He couldn’t risk it. But he had been so bad. It was all for her. All for her. He rested his cheek against hers, pressing his mouth to hers. Brushing her hair back, he reveled in the softness. His headache was better now. The nurses wouldn’t let him in before. He had simply waited. Then Wes had left and he didn’t ask anyone this time.

  The sight of her lying there. Machines connected. At first nothing registered except her and then it all became so painfully clear, one at a time. Wes should have been more careful! Hadn’t he found a pack of cigarettes by the barn? Victoria had warned him not to smoke in her barn. He had heard, being only steps away that day. A pain ripped between his temples but he didn’t take his hands off Victoria to press his palms against his head. Looking at the ceiling, waiting for relief, he found her fingers with his.

  The bandage made him look sharply down, only causing the knife in his head to slice even deeper. Wes had almost killed his Victoria. He hated Wes. Wes had to go away. And Nick had to make him. Her fingers tightened on his only slightly but enough to make him look back at her. Kissing her eyelids, her cheek, he murmured, “All right. All right. Nick is here. Your Nick is here.”

  A passion stronger than the pain racked his body. His muscles contracted, threatening to stop his heart. He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t let Wes know he was here. She snuggled even closer to him and the gesture brought tears to his dark eyes. He wanted to stay. He wanted to soothe her all over. He ran his hand down her arm and brought her fingers to his lips. He had to go. Right now or they would discover him. He would come back, when they had taken the needles out. He could move her then and he would come back and take care of her.

  Kissing her fingertips, he slipped from the bed and laid her hand gently back against the sheet. He studied her sleeping face for a long time. No one had a right to take her away from him. No one had a right to do that. A low sound started in his throat and made its way to his lips. The pain in his head stabbed through him like Morse code. Dot. Dash. Ice pick hard and hot, the distress threatened to force him to his knees.

  Holding his head, he made his way across the room toward the door. Stumbling once, he went down on one knee. Off balance, he righted himself and bumped into the wall. He used it to find his way out.

  The flames licked at her dress. The heat burned her face, her eyes. Dark, swirling clouds of smoke forced their way down her throat, choking her. Opening her mouth to draw air, she only sucked in more smoke, yanking away any air left. Flailing arms and legs, running, lungs expanding and contracting. Katie’s face, laughing and then crying, eyes wide open and scared and then closed and still. So damned still. She heard Wes’s voice calling her, directing her away from the terror, but she couldn’t move. Nothing responded to her movements. Nothing.

  She saw Wes running away from her, carrying Katie and that stupid rabbit. Wait. Take me, too. I’m dying. That’s good. I should die.

  Burning. Burning up and curling into a ball of blackness, Victoria fought. The voice became soothing, like a light sprinkling of cool water. She moved toward it, fighting through the fog and hell to get to it. Her throat hurt but she screamed his name.

  His head flew up from where he had nodded off. Grabbing her flailing arms, he threw himself over her body to keep her from yanking all the tubes and needles out of her limbs.

  She pushed up and out of the nightmare like a diver coming up to punch through the water after a deep jump from the high board. There was air there even if it did scrape her throat and bring tears to her eyes. A small light on the bedside table was clicked on. Clearing her vision, she made out his form. He was poised over the bed looking to be ready for anything that might happen next. He looked scared, tired, concerned, and beat. Totally beat.

  He scooped her up in his arms and held her. “It’s okay. It’s over. It was just a nightmare. Relax, Victoria. You’re safe. Everyone is safe.” He held her as he had Katie and prayed.

  He offered her water from a straw and she sipped. It was golden and as good as ice cream on a warm, humid day. Now that she was fully awake, the guilt, the terrible dread of what happened pinned her to the mattress. She tried to move as far away as she could from the man whom she had hurt and who had hurt her.

  Not understanding, but permitting, Wes sat back in his chair. “Can I get you something to eat? More to drink?”

  She rolled her head back and forth on the pillow and looked away from him. He didn’t like that at all. He didn’t like the trapped look in her eyes or the desperation he felt in his gut.

  He shook his head. He wasn’t a begging man. At this point, what he was or wasn’t didn’t enter into it.

  “Don’t turn away from me. Not now. Not when I need you so much.”

  Nothing mattered. Nothing. “Failure,” she muttered.

  “What does that mean?” He moved his chair closer and took her bandaged hand in his.

  “I’ve failed again. Washed out in Virginia society because I refused to live each day as the townspeople figured I should. They thought my volunteerism was notable until they figured I was too attached to the veterans and spent way too much time with them. It wasn’t proper, the things a young lady would see there. Then I failed to catch the rich, acceptable husband my mother expected me to after David and I split up. I really messed up with David. I could have stayed. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe…I should have stayed.”

  Tired, Wes swiped a hand over his face. Patience and understanding. She was probably out of her head. She wouldn’t even remember all this when she was better. All he had to do was hang on and be patient. That’s all she needed. But he was so tired and she shouldn’t be feeling this way. He resented it. “And been unfulfilled all your life. No one is expected to live a life as a lie. No. You haven’t failed at anything.”

  “Failed Uncle Henry, whoever the hell he was…I’ve never even seen a picture of him. Every time I mentioned his name to anyone here, I would get a warm smile and a pat on the back…and nothing. Screwed things up. And then you. I almost got your daughter killed trying to get even with you. Damn you.” She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that wanted to fall and opened them again.

  The muscles in his gut contracted. “Close your eyes. Go back to sleep. It’ll be morning soon and you’ll feel better.”

  She tried to pull her hand from his. He shouldn’t be consoling her. She should be dead.

  “I love you, Victoria. Sleep now. We’ll have all the time in the world to talk this out, later.” He brushed his cool hand over her forehead and pushed her hair away from her face.

  “Don’t love me, Wes. Don’t. You don’t have to play the role now. The jig’s up. The worms are out of the can.” Her words were slurred as sleep fought to take over. “I’ll never believe another word you say. You lied. Buck lied. Everybody lied.”

  Wes propped his chin on his hand and watched her. “I�
�ll love you, dammit. Don’t tell me not to.” He was glad when her words became only murmurs. Her breathing eased and she drifted away. Everything he ever wanted was there in that hospital bed, hovering between living and dying. Oh, not physically. But mentally. He wouldn’t let her go away from him. He wouldn’t let her broken heart keep them from understanding and working things out. He felt the perspiration break out across his forehead. But this was so important. Vital. And the human spirit was sometimes so fragile. Hers had certainly been put to the test.

  As much as his battered mind and body wanted sleep, he didn’t close his eyes. He watched over her. The cowboy and the Easterner.

  Dawn was breaking. A thin stream of gray light forced its way through the slats of the blinds. Stiff and sore, Wes stood up and walked around the room, stretching his sore back and stressed limbs. He looked back at Victoria. She was quieter now, resting.

  Peering through the blinds, he watched as the city came to life. So different from Glory Town. Miles of traffic stretched along the highways. Rigs bound for other states lined the edge of the truck stop. In homes along the way, bacon sizzled in the pan, coffeepots dripped their miracle aid to coping with the ensuing day. Kids raced around the house getting ready for the school bus. Mom popped a load of clothes in the washer and checked the calendar to see if PTA was meeting tonight.

  Mundane things. To some, drudgery. But at this point, all J. Weston Cooper wanted was to go back to Glory Town and deal with the niggling little problems he faced every day. Things that might have proved boring now would seem so very welcome.

  As she hovered between drug-induced sleep and wakefulness, Wes reached under the bed for the bag he’d brought home from town. Pulling out the soft white teddy bear with the big brown glass eyes and the sewn-on smile, he set it next to her on the pillow, and sat back for a little while longer. He’d have to leave. He had to see to Katie. He knew his parents were with her but he had to be there, too. To hold her hand. To watch for her beautiful little smile.