“Take a deep breath, pixie,” he said softly. “Just take a deep breath and relax. I know it hurts, but it will all be over soon.”
Her lashes opened and she looked up at Trevor with the amazing green eyes that captivated him. “Trevor, what happened.”
He was about to reply when Olivia forced her way in, placing her face directly above her sister’s. “You were shot, you little fool. If it weren’t for this ranger, you’d be dead. Now lie still and let us take care of you.”
Serena’s eyes darted from Olivia’s disapproving frown to Trevor’s frustrated face. “Why am I so tired? I just want to go to sleep...”
“Because you’ve lost a lot of blood. But I’m about to get you stitched up to make sure that stops.” Olivia turned her attention to Trevor. “I need you to keep her still. I have to make sure there isn’t anything that has been cut inside her that is causing the bleeding.”
Serena reached for Trevor’s hand and he grabbed it, holding it tightly. “Just look at me, pixie. No matter what you feel, just look at me. If it hurts, just squeeze my hand.”
“Hah.” Olivia grabbed a thin, metal tool to move things around inside the wound and identify the point where the blood was coming from. “You must not know Serri. She doesn’t know how to stay still.”
Trevor locked his eyes with Serena’s and brought her hand close to his face. “Focus, pixie. Focus.”
Olivia began to gently probe the wound and Serena’s expression of pain cut right to Trevor’s heart. He squeezed her hand gently, reminding her he was there, and she squeezed back, channeling her pain into her grip with him as he had instructed. Her eyes stayed fixated with his, and she was breathing in short gasps.
It felt like it had been an eternity and yet it had only been a couple of minutes when Olivia triumphantly claimed, “Found it!” Her fingers stayed in the wound, though, and she looked expectantly at Trevor.
Trevor didn’t want to break eye contact with Serena, but he had to. Slowly, he turned his head and looked at Olivia with his eyebrows raised in question and in irritation.
She returned his look with one that was equally as irritated. “You need to stitch it,” she said, as though talking to a simpleton.
His eye ticked. This was certainly not an area of expertise for him.
“Wouldn’t it be better if you did it? Like you said, you need small hands, not ones like mine.”
“There is something in her chest that must have been severed by the gun shot. If we don’t stich it up, it will continue pumping blood, even if we just stitch her wound closed, and she will slowly bleed to death. Your hands are too big to get in here and hold it, and it is incredibly slippery. So the sooner you stitch it up, the sooner Serena will have a chance to live.”
Chapter Six
Trevor immediately reached for the needle and the long strand of hair from a horse tail that served as thread. He reluctantly released Serena’s hand and threaded the needle and set about the task.
Olivia had been right. It was slippery. It took him five tries before he finally had the needle through the tissue and began to stitch. Serena didn’t make a sound, but balled her hands into fists at her sides. Finally, it was complete and he quickly began to stitch up her wound, as neat and even as he could possibly make it, under Olivia’s watchful eye. When he had finished he wiped around the wound and saw that no more blood leaked forth and he bowed his head in gratitude. “Thank God.”
Olivia began to clean up, but kept an eye on Trevor. “Not bad, Ranger Trevor. You seem to know Serena rather well. How did you meet?”
Serena had fallen asleep and Trevor pulled the sheet up over her and faced Olivia. “I caught her spying on my rangers.”
Olivia chuckled. “That sounds like something she would do.”
“We started talking and discovered we have several things in common, and several things we don’t agree on. But, in answer to your questions, yes, I’d say I know Serena some. She is a complicated woman, and I don’t know that anyone will truly know her ‘well.’”
Olivia smiled. “You know her better than most. I’ve never seen anyone able to keep her that calm.”
Trevor was beginning to feel a little embarrassed and realized it was time for him to go. “She’ll be alright now, won’t she?”
“She should. You did such a good job stitching her up, she shouldn’t get an infection. Do you want to stay for some lunch? You saved my sister’s life, it’s the least I can do.”
“No, thank you, though.” He tipped his hat to her. “There are some Indians still out there that we need to capture.”
“Indians are running around here in town? And they are dangerous?”
“Very.”
Olivia fingered her collar nervously. “I need to clear out the cocina. We can’t put our customers in such jeopardy.”
Trevor frowned. “It would be safer for you to keep your customers here but lock up the cocina. They are at even a higher risk if they are out in the streets.”
Olivia nodded, but he could tell by the look in her eyes she was afraid. “I’ll help you lock everything up and I’ll explain to your customers what is happening. If they choose to leave, it is at their own expense.” Trevor stepped out into the hall. “Do any menfolk live here? Or is it just you ladies?”
“My grandfather lives here, but he isn’t capable of helping us. You already know Cade... he’s wrapped up in everything going on with the council house meeting.”
“Just go ahead and start locking up the cocina. Aim for any area that someone might be able to fit through...”
Olivia nodded, then dashed off towards the front of the house where their customers were. Trevor looked back at Serena one more time before following behind Olivia.
“Olivia, where have you been? I need the tripas right away.” The middle sister, Angie said as soon as she saw Olivia, but her voice faded when she saw Trevor walking towards her. “Who are you?”
“This is Ranger Tre—”
Screams erupted in the dining area, and Trevor instantly reached for his gun. Angie began to head towards the dining area to find out what the problem was when Trevor grabbed her arm and pulled her backwards. “It’s probably an Indian,” he whispered into her ear. “You need to go to the back of the house with Olivia. Stay in Serena’s room and don’t come out until you hear me say it is all safe.”
Her eyes were wide with fear and confusion, but she did as he said, and followed Olivia back to Serena’s room. He heard the door close and heard something large slam against it. These women had a good idea of what could come their way if they weren’t protected.
Holding his gun in a firm grip, he crouched down and moved towards the dining area, where customers were still screaming. But the screams had turned more into pleas for their life. How many Indians could he be facing? He had to make a plan on how to handle the situation, no matter how many there were.
Cautiously, he peeked around the corner and saw men and women crouched against the walls, trying to hide behind the tables from the lone Indian that circled the room with a massive blade. His eyes were crazed in fear, and it was obvious he knew he was being hunted by the way he continued to look out the windows.
He didn’t say anything—he only paced back and forth, occasionally lunging towards one of the patrons and laughing as they cowered in fear from him. His blade had blood on it. Which meant he had already seriously hurt or killed at least one person. The blood looked fresh, so it wasn’t from the council house meeting.
Trevor pulled back, leaning his back against the counter. The Indian was going to die. That much was certain. If they didn’t kill him immediately, they would make him an example and hang him in Market Square, the Texans trying to prove to everyone they were superior to the Comanche.
He could try to save the Indian and help him escape. But where was the justice in that? The Indian had obviously committed a crime, and he had to be met with justice, or the entire balance of the world would be off. No, Trevor wouldn’t help hi
m escape.
But he would make sure he didn’t go to the gallows and be humiliated in front of all the Texans. He would let him go out like the warrior he was. Drawing a deep breath, he stood and stepped around the corner and into the dining area, his hand gripping his pistol tightly. The sound of his spurs hitting the wooden floor drew all eyes to him, especially that of the wild-eyed Indian.
Trevor spoke in broken Comanche the best he could recall. “You don’t need to hurt anyone else. You are already well-respected as a warrior. Any more deaths that happen here will be with you. None of us care who gets blamed, as long as there are Indians to take the blame. Stop now, and you might be saved.”
Trevor knew his words would infuriate the warrior. They didn’t live a life where they surrendered, or gave up on something. They lived a life where they were brave until their very last breath. And Trevor had intended for it to be that way.
The Indian let out a loud war cry and charged at him, his blade raised, and Trevor pulled his trigger. The sound of the gunshot reverberated through the room, and then there was absolute silence. There was no sound from the Indian lying on the floor, which didn’t surprise Trevor. He’d shot him straight through the heart so he would die instantly. He died a warrior’s death, exactly what any Indian warrior wanted.
The smell of gun smoke wafted to his nose, and he realized he was still frozen in position with his gun drawn. Slowly, he put it back into the holster and rolled he shoulders, trying to shake off the tension. He walked over to the prone Indian and kneeled down, closing the lids over his eyes out of a gesture of respect. Then he hooked the man under the arms and pulled him out onto the porch and then into the street.
He hurried back into the cocina and closed the door, and brought down the large wooden bar across it that was only meant to be used during emergencies. He imagined it had only been used once previously... during the battle for the Alamo when Santa Anna had reigned down his fury.
He tried to explain to everyone that they needed to stay inside because there were still Indians on the loose, but he could tell several of them didn’t understand him. He gestured for all of them to wait and he hurried to the back of the house and knocked on Serena’s door. “It’s Trevor,” he said in a calm tone. “It’s safe to come out now, but I need you to talk to your customers. I’m not the best with Spanish.”
There was the sound of something large and heavy being moved away from the door and slowly it creaked open. “Ladies...”
Olivia stood with a shotgun leveled at him and Angie had two pistols, and from the way she held them he had no doubt she knew exactly how to handle them. “Where is the Indian?” Olivia demanded.
“Out in the street. Dead.” Trevor remained calm in front of them, not wanting them to get nervous at all.
With relieved sighs, they lowered their weapons and stepped aside for him. They must have known he wanted to see Serena, wanted to see some color returning to her cheeks. She was still far too pale, but her breathing was even, and she was on the path to recovery.
He turned back to face the other two women. “I’ve got to say I’ve yet to meet a family quite like yours. But I’m dam—darned glad that I did. I’ll be on my way now. There’s a lot of things that require my attention.” He glanced over at Serena. “And, please, please keep her out of trouble.”
Angie laughed. “Sorry, ranger. That job is all yours.”
Trevor tipped his hat to them as he cautiously exited the back of the house and a smile crept upon his face. He didn’t mind the idea of having that job at all.
When Serena opened her eyes, everything around her was dark. The remnants of her nightmare still clung to her, and she was still falling, falling into a dark hole with no way out. “No!” she cried out, but her voice was hoarse.
Suddenly, there was the flash of a match light and the lantern next to the bed was lit. Angie’s sweet face looked back at her. “Oh, Angie! I just had the most terrible dream.” She began to push herself upright before Angie could warn her and she gritted her teeth against the extreme pain and fell back on her bed. “So, not all of it was a nightmare,” she whispered.
Angie rubbed her eyes wearily and yawned, then leaned towards Serena. “What you did was beyond foolish and irresponsible today. And it’s the exact same thing I would have done had I been in your place. You were so brave! And you tried so hard to save lives. I just wish it had worked.”
“So do I,” Serena said forlornly, remembering the faces of the chiefs as they realized they’d been betrayed, and then their faces contorting in pain as they were riddled with bullets.
“We’ve been hearing a lot of outrageous stories, but we think we’ve been able to piece together what really happened. Is it true that the young girl captive was really rough looking? Like they had beaten her and assaulted her?”
Serena looked up at the ceiling and saw the shadows dancing above them. “The marks on her body were a terrible thing to see,” she finally admitted. “But it was the look in her eyes that made it unbearable. It was as if someone had ripped her soul from her body. As if all of the hope she had ever had in her life was gone. I’ll never forget that look, Angie. I’ll never forget it. And she’s a few years younger than me. To have all of that taken from you so quickly... I just can’t imagine it.”
Angie’s fingers wiped at Serena’s eyes where tears had started to gather. “We’ll make it through this, Serri. We have gotten through much worse than this.”
“Worse than this?” Serena’s eyes jerked to Angie’s, tone incredulous. “This is just the beginning. Because of the failed peace agreement, and the horrible massacre, they will be out for blood. No one is safe anymore!”
“Serena, you’re frightening me!”
“Good. And I’ll frighten every last person in this town if I have to so they’ll understand exactly what they’ve done. They killed them, Angie. They boxed them up in that room and killed them.”
“Serena, you’re hurt. I think you’ve confused some of the things that happened. The Indians attacked our men first. We had no choice but to engage. Our men were in trouble.” Angie’s brow was furrowed with confusion.
“That’s not exactly what happened,” Serena said, feeling tension build in her shoulders, which only served to remind her of the pain of her wound. “The council delegates were going to keep some of the chiefs as hostages until they returned all of our people they held hostage. But one of the chiefs had already explained that the hostages were being held by different tribes and he couldn’t force them to do anything. When the army went and blocked the doors, that’s when the Indians made a move. They were frightened and angry. Can’t you see why?”
Angie sat back slightly. “I think you may be a little too sympathetic to the Comanche. About thirty minutes ago, a Comanche soldier rode to the top of a hill—close enough to be seen but not close enough to be shot at.”
Serena tried to sit up but cringed as her wound protested and she fell back onto the bed. “And? What happened? What was he doing?”
“He was waving a white flag of peace and said they would bring the hostages as long as we agreed to release some of their people.”
Serena was trying to breathe but was finding it difficult. “They—they had hostages?”
“When we agreed, they came back only a few minutes later with several white women and children. They had lied to us earlier at the council house when they had told us they couldn’t bring us any more hostages, Serri.”
Serena swallowed hard. All of this time that she had fought for them, even tried to protect that, which had earned her a bullet wound to the chest, had been for nothing. They had lied, and hurt innocent people. For a moment she thought she was going to throw up.
“What have I done?” she whispered to herself, forgetting that Angie was in the room with her.
“You did what you thought was right, Serri, and no one will fault you for that. I just thank God that the ranger, Trevor, was there to take care of you. You would have died if he hadn
’t acted so quickly.”
Serena focused on Angie. “What did he do?”
“You don’t remember? He was the one that removed the bullet from your chest. And then he brought you here as fast as he could so Olivia could tend to you. He’s the one that stitched you up. You don’t remember any of that?”
Don’t let me fall, Trevor.
Stay with me, pixie. Insult me or slap me or something. Show me that feisty woman I know.
I have a lot of faith, pixie. Especially in you.
Vague memories flashed through her mind. She could see his concerned face hovering over her, could feel his gentle touch as he tried to take care of her. She even remembered the tension in his face as he dug around for the bullet, urging her to relax.
“I can tell you’re starting to remember some.” Angie’s voice teased. “He is an incredibly good-looking man. And a Texas Ranger. You know Abuela and Abuelo would be very happy.”
Serena rolled her eyes. “I know exactly what Grandma and Grandpa would say. Why marry a man that risks his life every single day?”
“Every single man who lives in Texas and is trying to get by in life here is risking his life every single day.”
Serena shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
Angie sighed heavily. “There’s one more thing, Serri.”
Serena blinked at the shadows on the ceiling, wishing she could wipe her memory of all that had happened. But it would be burned into her brain for the rest of her life. “What else, Angie? Did I help free some of the Indian hostages, too?”
Angie gripped her hand, and Serena’s eyes flew to hers. Angie looked like she didn’t want to tell her anything. She looked as if she were on the edge of tears.
“Angie? What is it? What’s wrong?”
“They killed Talking Wolf. One of the Indians must have come across him when trying to escape us. It appears as if Talking Wolf tried to stop him. He lost the fight.”
Texas Heat Page 6
