“Let me give you a hand. I’ll wipe the blood away while you tend to the rest of it,” Lin said quietly, reaching with a clean bit of cotton to soak up the oozing residue. “There,” she murmured after long moments. “I think you’ve got it all, Faith.”
Max turned his head sharply to see for himself, gritting his teeth as he recognized the havoc a bullet could bring about, and thankful for the numbing effect of whiskey. Faith was cleaning the edges of the wound, examining the raw area with an intent look. She straightened as she soberly assessed the damage.
“I think we’d better stitch it up,” she said finally. “It’ll heal better if we pull the edges together, don’t you think?” Her query was addressed to Lin, and from the doorway the housekeeper added her opinion.
“I’ve got some good silk thread, Miss Faith,” Katie said, bustling toward the group around the table. The woman had faded red hair, combined with a rounded figure and bluer than blue eyes that twinkled in Max’s direction. She blurred a bit, and he blinked to focus on her, squinting his eyes. Tucked neatly into a dark dress beneath the long apron she wore, she looked the picture of a typical Irish grandmother, he decided. She placed a sewing basket on the table and opened it, drawing forth a spool of black thread.
“That looks fine,” Faith said. “Cut a length, and we’ll soak it in the whiskey before we use it.”
Max watched her closely, noting the steady movement of her hands, hearing the calm tone of her voice through a fog. He reached with his free arm to circle her waist as she stood between his parted thighs, and she glanced down quickly, her eyes still dark with concern. Beneath his palm her flesh trembled, and he felt her heart beating unevenly, there where his hand rested beneath her breast.
“Sit on my knee,” he said quietly, needing her close. “You look wiped out, sweetheart.”
“You’re the one who’s been wounded,” she snapped. “I’m fine.”
“Are you?” He looked up at her, noting the single tear that trailed from the edge of her eyelid to slide the length of her cheek. If he could only think straight, he’d be able to offer comfort, he decided. But it seemed all he could do to sit upright for now.
“I will be, once I have you stitched up and bandaged,” she told him. And then she turned a bit and perched on his thigh, and he felt the shuddering breath she drew. Her head drooped a bit and she leaned her forehead against his for a moment. “You frightened me half to death,” she said quietly. “I was so afraid I wouldn’t get to you in time. And then I feared we’d not make it without both of us getting killed by a stray bullet from those men.”
“Nicholas is going to raise the roof when he gets back home,” Lin said glumly. “Not only has he lost a herd of cattle, he’s lost two of the men who hired on to work for him. Not to mention that his neighbor took a bullet.”
“The one fella Mr. Nicholas hired is still alive,” Katie stated. “He just got a crease in his skull that knocked him out cold. But the other one got nailed in the chest. Poor man didn’t know what hit him.”
“Where are they?” Max asked, aware that he’d missed out on the flurry of excitement following the rustler’s raid, and more than aware that the whiskey he’d consumed was taking its toll.
“The sheriff came by and said that he’d had someone take Shorty into town to the doc,” Katie told him. “The other man doesn’t have any family hereabouts, and unless they can find out where his kin might be, he’ll be buried in the churchyard.”
“Has anyone found any trace of the rustlers?” Max heard the slurring of his voice as he felt Faith’s weight shift against him. He eyed the needle Katie offered; then, as if pronouncing judgment, he nodded approval. With a long look in his direction, Lin chuckled, then dropped the needle in the cup of whiskey, and Max set his mind to considering something other than the mending of his flesh that was to come.
Katie glanced at him, her gaze taking in his grip on Faith, her eyes registering approval as she nodded at his inquiring look. “A hired hand on the next ranch to the east saw the herd being driven across Joe Filer’s land, and he had a notion things weren’t what they should be. So he hightailed it to town to let the law know what was goin’ on,” she told him. “The sheriff’s got a posse out right now chasing down the gang. If anybody can catch them, it’s Brace. He’s a good man.”
Max grinned, reaching for his whiskey glass with shaky fingers. “You had Billy spotted right off, didn’t you?” He looked up at Faith, watching as she held a pad against his wound, waiting while Lin threaded the needle with care and drew out the silk thread into a double strand.
“I had a bad feeling about him,” Faith said quietly. And then she stood as Lin held the needle out to her. “This isn’t going to be pleasant,” she told Max. “Do you want to lie down?”
He shook his head and, leaning his right elbow on the table, propped his brow against his hand, giving her a clear field in which to work. “I’m about at the point of feeling no pain,” he said. “I’ll just sit here and behave myself. Go ahead.”
She drew in a deep breath and began, whispering beneath her breath, giving instructions to Lin to blot the blood from the wound, halting to tie off the stitches as she went. Drawing in a quivering breath, she tied the last knot, then soaked a clean cloth in the small cup of whiskey before her and held it against the mended skin.
Max inhaled sharply, then uttered an oath beneath his breath, stunned by the intense burning of the alcohol against raw flesh. “I’m sorry,” Faith whispered, bending to touch her lips to his cheek. “It has to be clean. I don’t want to risk infection. The back of your shoulder, where the bullet entered looks pretty good. I’ve washed it out as well as I can and I think just a bandage will suffice. It went in at an angle, and it seemed to have missed the bone.”
“I’ve learned lately to be grateful for small things,” Max said with a shaky grin, the pain producing a sobering effect.
“I can’t thank you enough,” Lin told him. “You went beyond the call of duty, Max. Nicholas will be indebted to you for your help.”
“I didn’t do a hell of a lot of good,” Max grumbled. “They ended up with his cattle, and he lost a man, not to mention a nice piece of horseflesh.”
“You did all anyone could have,” Lin insisted. “And now I think you’d do well to crawl into bed. We’ll find you something nourishing to eat, and Faith can stay with you and keep an eye on things.”
“I’m well enough to sit up to the table and have breakfast,” Max said. “At least some coffee.” And perhaps coffee was exactly what he needed, he thought.
He was still there when a horse bearing the sheriff appeared at the foot of the back porch steps. Brace tied his reins to the upright post and made his way to the door, rapping once before he opened it. “How bad is it?” he asked Max, his gaze narrowed as he searched out the wide bandage.
“I’ll live,” Max told him. “The question is whether or not you came up with any of Nicholas’s cattle.”
“I’ve got men out searching the canyons between here and the railroad lines to the north. I had a wire sent directly to the railroad to be on the lookout for cattle with botched brands. They may try to split up the herd and sell them off in small pieces. But I’ll tell you one thing. Those fellas will have a hard time burning over Nick’s brand. And any steer with a fresh iron mark is gonna be suspect.
“Unless they keep them in a canyon for weeks, we may get a line on the gang. They won’t make any money unless they can sell the herd, and we’re a step ahead of them, I think.”
“What about Billy?” Faith asked.
“He’s the only one we managed to get hold of,” Brace said. “Silly fool got himself wounded and fell in front of one of the steers. I think one of the gang turned on him, after he’d outlived his usefulness to them. He was singing for all he was worth when we tossed him into a cell. The doc patched him up and he’s probably facing a long time in prison, maybe even a rope if the judge isn’t in a good mood when he sees him in court.”
> The sheriff looked at Lin. “When is Nick coming home?”
“Not for a couple of days, I suppose,” she said. “He just left day before yesterday. I haven’t decided yet whether or not to wire him the news. There isn’t much he can do from Collins Creek, and his business there is pretty important.”
“He’ll find out soon enough,” Brace agreed. “Maybe we’ll have some good news by the time he gets back. I’d sure like to get my hands on that gang. I’d thought we had the rustlers in this area all cleaned out. But I reckon there’s always another batch of fools waitin’ to take the place of the last bunch.”
Max felt weariness overtake him as the conversation moved on, and when Faith touched his arm and offered him her hand, he rose and allowed her to lead him out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the big front bedroom. “Isn’t this Lin and Nicholas’s room?” he asked as Faith turned down the quilt on the wide bed.
“It will be when the children are a little older. For now Lin and Nicholas use a room at the front of the house upstairs. Directly over this one, in fact,” Faith said, fluffing the pillows and piling them in place. She turned to him. “I’ll help you undress,” she offered.
He glanced to the door and then grinned at her. “I think you ought to close that first,” he suggested. “I’m not real fond of exposing myself to a houseful of womenfolk.”
She shot him a dark look, but moved to the open portal and swung the door into place, then leaned back against it. Her scowl faded as she searched his face, and then she walked slowly toward him.
“I was worried, Max. All I could think of was that you’d come all the way out to Texas for me, and then ended up getting shot. I had this vision of your mother reading me the riot act and your whole family after my hide for exposing you to danger.”
He held out his good arm in her direction and she slid her hands around his waist and clung to him unashamedly. Her head leaned against his shoulder and she cried silent tears, her fingers digging into the muscles of his back. Holding her closely, he leaned his cheek against her hair and shut his eyes. If he’d doubted it before, the certainty of her love became apparent in a new and clear revelation now.
“I’m all right, Faith,” he assured her. “A bit banged up, but I’ll be good as new before you know it.” He felt weakness, invasive and quick, as he whispered the words, and as if she sensed the faltering of his strength, she turned to loop his arm around her shoulder, and led him to the bed.
“Will you lie down with me?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the mattress as she bent to remove his stockings. His boots were by the back door, his shirt a pile of tatters on the kitchen floor when he’d last seen it, and now he dreaded the effort involved in standing to remove the trousers he wore.
“As soon as I get you out of these pants,” she said, hauling him to his feet and undoing the belt he wore. The heavy denim pants fell around his ankles and he kicked them aside, then dropped weakly to the mattress again. Faith watched him closely and bent to lift his legs to the bed.
“I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep awhile,” he told her, aware that his words were slurring even more, the aftereffect of the whiskey he’d downed.
“I know,” she said, tucking the sheet over him, reaching for a damp cloth she’d placed on the nightstand. Her hands were gentle as she wiped his face. The cloth was cool and she wielded it with care, cleaning the dust from his skin, wiping his temples and forehead. Then she rose to carry it across the room, wringing it out in a basin on the washstand.
She returned and used the refreshing cloth on his chest and neck, and he sighed, accepting her touch and the peaceful sound of her murmurs as she tended him. “I could get real used to this,” he said softly as she left him again, returning in moments to sit beside him.
“Did I tell you I love you, Max?” she asked quietly.
He felt his heavy eyelids twitch, and he lifted them to peer up at her. “Not for a long time, sweetheart,” he replied, feeling that he walked on shaky ground. The admission she made so gravely was one he’d waited for over the past weeks. That it might come on the tail of his brush with death made him wonder about the reason for her decision to announce her devotion. He’d rather have heard it when he was hale and healthy.
His eyes closed again and he murmured her name, “Faith,” and then opened one eye to seek her out. “Stay with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said with a smile. And then her face blurred before him and he allowed the darkness to sweep over him.
She’d come close to losing him. The thought vibrated in Faith’s mind throughout the next three days as she kept watch in the downstairs bedroom. Fever was her enemy and she slept but rarely, and then as close to Max as she could get. Rousing when he stirred, she bathed him when the heat of his body alarmed her, then forced Katie’s brew of herbs and tea down his throat when he would have refused a less hardy soul.
Max’s healing was rapid once the fever abated, and when Nicholas arrived home on the third day since the shooting, he was greeted with a barrage of greetings, all of which led him to the room where Max was recuperating. He rapped once on the door, then entered, his gaze seeking out the man who had laid his life on the line for a friend.
Faith watched through the window as the two men clasped hands, her eyes tearing as they exchanged a few low words. Not for these two any suggestion of emotion, but beneath their brief touch of hands and their bandying remarks, she sensed an underlying bond of friendship that would no doubt withstand the years.
Max needed a friend like Nicholas, she decided. He could do no better if he were to search far and wide for a man to stand at his back.
She’d pronounced him able to return to the farmhouse today, and he was eager to do just that, after the noon meal. Their few belongings were packed and ready. A man, newly hired by Lin in order to fill the gap, had been instructed to harness the team and ready the wagon for the trip, and once Max and Nicholas caught up on the news, Faith would be loading him onto the high wagon seat for the short ride.
Brace arrived as they sat down at the table, and Katie brought forth another plate for the lawman. “I’ve never yet turned down a meal you cooked,” he announced, bending to plant a kiss on her cheek. “You’re the best cook in the county.”
Faith laughed aloud as Katie blushed, pushing Brace toward his chair. “What a lot of malarkey,” she said, concealing her pleasure with a great flurry of apron flapping. And then they ate, Brace describing in detail the rounding-up of Nicholas’s herd.
“There were over a hundred head in one spot, inside a shallow box canyon. Those jackass rustlers were just about to begin branding the bunch, had their irons all hot. I don’t think they’d figured on having such a tough time of it, wrestling full grown steers to the ground.” He laughed, reaching for the platter of fried ham and serving himself a second helping.
“We saved them the trouble, just swooped in from three sides and nailed ’em good. The sheriff from over in Garrison brought his men along for the ride, and between us we got a dozen or so men in jail.” He chewed for a moment and then waved his fork for emphasis. “This is a bigger gang than we’d thought at first.”
“Any idea where the rest of my cattle are?” Nicholas asked. Faith watched him, noting the harsh set of his mouth, the taut line of his jaw. Nicholas did not take kindly to being robbed.
“The man from Garrison said he’d do some scouting in that area. We’ve probably lost a number that got sent to the stockyards right off. But the best of the bunch are those they were gonna brand and sell to dealers. They should be back on the range by now. The men were herding them in this direction when I rode out.
“And that reminds me,” Brace said suddenly, reaching into his shirt pocket. “You got a letter, Max. Titus Liberty flagged me down when I left my office and asked me to deliver it when I saw you.” He drew forth a cream-colored envelope with sealing wax on the back flap and placed it in Max’s outstretched hand. “Hope it isn’t bad news from back East.
”
Max shook his head, glancing quickly at the handwriting and stuffing it into his own shirt pocket. “Just some of my family catching up with the latest news, no doubt.”
And then he changed the subject, turning back to Brace and asking quietly, “What about the men who were shot?” That Max was in that same group was not the issue. Faith recognized his true concern for those hired hands who’d been in harm’s way and met a fate worse than his own.
Brace’s eyes darkened as he shook his head. “It sure is a thankless job, deliverin’ bad news to a family. We found out about the dead man. Seems he was alone, but for a sister down south of Dallas. Doc sent her a wire and told her that her brother was buried in the churchyard in town. On the other hand, Shorty is doing fine. He said to give you a message, Nick. He’ll be comin’ back this week, soon’s his head is healed enough for him to ride out.”
“Where’d you get the new man?” Nicholas asked Lin as she stood behind his chair, coffeepot in hand.
“He was asking in town about work and Brace sent him out. I told him I didn’t know how permanent the job was, and he’d have to talk to you about it when you got back home.”
Nicholas shot an inquiring look at Brace and received a nod. “Seems like a good man to me,” the lawman said. “I figured he’d fill the gap, anyway, till you got things under control again.”
The sound of a horse outside the house caught Faith’s attention and she looked out the window, where her wagon and team were being driven toward the back porch, Max’s horse, her mare and the filly tied behind. “I think your chariot awaits,” she told Max. “I’ll go in and fetch our things.”
They were silent as they traveled the shortcut across the fields toward the farmhouse. Max made no offer to hold the reins, and Faith handled her team with automatic movements. The presence of Max’s arm behind her was welcome, and the warmth of his thigh pressed to hers was a comfort, she decided.
Texas Gold (Mills & Boon Historical) Page 19
