Iron Will (Grizzly Encounters Book 1)

by Kris Norris

  “And it’s my job to ensure you stay that way—along with the rest of the camp. Weren’t you the one who said you couldn’t treat people if you were the patient?”

  “You would pick now to toss that back at me. But sunset’s still a few hours off. And I promise I’ll stay inside the clinic.”

  “Right. The same place I allowed a man to attack you. I feel so much better knowing that.”

  “Lucas. I didn’t suddenly lose my ability to fight and shoot because some cowboy got in a lucky punch. If there’s even a remote chance Cullen and the crew are under attack, at least one of us should go.”

  Lucas clenched his jaw, making the muscle jump as he glanced at the ceiling, softly counting to ten. “Since I know this isn’t an argument I’ll win, and because I’d never forgive myself if the reverend did, in fact, unwittingly see an impendin’ attack…I’ll go check it out. But you have to promise me you’ll stay put. No matter what. If someone needs your help, they can come to you.”

  “I’ll keep watch.” Joseph motioned to a gun on his hip—one Hollis had never seen him wear before and definitely hadn’t been holstered around his waist earlier when he’d stopped by. “Give her a hand if necessary.”

  Lucas’ eyes narrowed before he discreetly scented the air. Color rose on his cheeks as he fisted his hands for a few moments before cursing under his breath. “See that she doesn’t take any unnecessary risks.” He turned to her.

  She motioned to the door. “I’ll be here, waitin’. I expect you both to make it back in one piece.”

  Lucas gave her a curt nod, looking as if he was going to give her a kiss before glancing at Miller. Her mate sighed then turned, marching out the door and down the steps. She darted to the doorway, watching mud splatter across the road as Lucas jogged to his office. He disappeared inside for a few moments, reappearing with a rifle and an extra saddlebag. He secured both on his horse then mounted, glancing back at her one more time. Hollis smiled, fighting the urge to follow when he nudged his horse into a canter. The echo of hooves died, his silhouette finally fading from sight.

  A strange hollow feeling settled in her chest as she closed the door. While she had complete faith in both his and Cullen’s abilities, it didn’t quiet the nervous roil in her stomach. Especially knowing they wouldn’t be able to access their other halves if things went sideways. Not with the crew looking on. A hand landed on her shoulder and she spun. She’d forgotten Joseph was still in the room.

  She sighed, absently walking over to the window and gazing out. “So, that’s where you were heading earlier? To gather some wood?”

  The floor creaked as he took a few steps toward her. “I find carvin’ settles my mind. Allows me to see the bigger picture when I’m stuck on a problem.”

  She merely nodded. “Since when do you wear a pistol around your hips?” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Do you even know how to use it?”

  A light blush brightened his cheeks before he attempted to draw himself up. “Just because I’m a man of the cloth doesn’t mean I’m any less of a man.”

  “I never said you were. I asked if you knew how to shoot that gun. Because you’re just as likely to injure yourself as anyone else if you start challenging folks without having the skill to back it up.”

  “I know enough.” He motioned to the window. “Is Quinn gone?”

  She frowned. “You saw him ride out of town.”

  “Just checkin’ that he didn’t double back before I did this.”

  Joseph drew his weapon, pointing the muzzle at her. The gun shook in his grasp, but there was no mistaking the feral look in his eyes.

  Hollis turned. “What the Hell do you think you’re doing? Put that away before you hurt yourself.”

  “Sorry, Hollis, but this is for your own good. You need help seeing the bigger picture.”

  She arched a brow. “Did you hit your head? Eat some kind of mushroom? Because you’re not making any sense.” She huffed when he stood there. “And put the damn gun away. I’d rather not get shot.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you. But I need to make sure you’ll come quietly. I promise this is for the best. Once we’re settled some place new, you’ll see. Quinn and James aren’t good for you. They can’t offer you what I can, so…move over to the door. I’ve got a wagon waitin’.”

  She glanced out the window, pieces starting to click together. “You never saw a gang, did you? You lied to get Lucas to leave.”

  “They’re just using you.”

  She tamped down her anger, though half of it was directed at herself. She hadn’t taken the time to put her holster back on after her romp with Lucas. A mistake she greatly regretted.

  Hollis forced herself to take a slow breath. “Joseph—”

  “I mean it.”

  He shook the weapon, backing up in what looked like an attempt to get a better angle, only to bump into a small table covered in instruments. He lost his balance, dropping the pistol as he grabbed for the surface. The gun hit the floor, discharging on impact. Pain seared along her arm, the distinctive ping of the bullet sounding behind her.

  She reacted, retrieving his revolver before he had a chance to do more than stare at the increasing red patch on her sleeve. Then, she opened the chamber and dumped out the remaining bullets, glaring at the man. She didn’t speak as she darted into her room and secured her holster, leaving his pistol on her table before making her way to the counter by the sink.

  Joseph seemed frozen to the spot, his eyes mostly white, his hands shaking. She resisted the urge to knock him over the head, grabbing one of her blades. Her arm throbbed in response as she gently cut off the sleeve, letting the blood-soaked fabric fall to the floor. A long gash marred her biceps, dripping blood slowly down her skin.

  A gasp sounded behind her before the preacher moved off to her left. “Hollis—”

  “Don’t!” She glared at him, noting the way he took a few quick steps back. “Of all the foolish…” She dapped some alcohol on the wound, hissing out her next breath. “If I’d had my damn pistols, you’d be full of holes, right now. What on Earth possessed you to draw on me?”

  She shut down any response with another firm glare. “I suggest you get your belongings and leave. If Cullen or Lucas find you here…”

  He swallowed then shook his head. “You have to come with me. Please. I’ll make it up to you. I promise. We can move—”

  “I don’t love you, Joseph.” She released a weary breath. “I didn’t want to come right out and say it. Didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but that’s a bit of a moot point, now. So, please…leave before the men get back. Because I’m finding it hard to think up a single reason why I shouldn’t simply shoot you, myself, let alone stop one of them.”

  Disappointment shadowed his face before he turned and stumbled to the door. It creaked as he opened it then glanced back at her before heading out. Pain clouded her vision, and she closed her eyes against the bitter sting of tears. She should have trusted her instincts. There was a reason she’d noticed his gun.

  Hollis pushed the nagging thoughts aside, smearing a layer of liniment across the open sore. Another rush of pain seared across her flesh, and she cursed as she wrapped a layer of gauze around her arm, tying it as tight as she could without restricting blood flow. She’d have the change the bandages fairly regularly until the bleeding stopped. Which meant the pain wasn’t going to ebb any time soon.

  She glanced at the whiskey bottle tucked at the back of her supplies, cursing, again, when she realized there wasn’t enough for a decent shot. Now, she’d have to go to the saloon. Irritation bunched her shoulders as she headed for the door, stopping when the thunder of hooves echoed through the wooden slab. The floorboards beneath her feet shook, making her instruments rattle across the table. She frowned. Not enough time has elapsed for Lucas to have made it all the way up the line and back. So, unless Cullen had already been on his way home…

  She darted to the window, looking out as gunshots lit the air. A do
zen men were gathered in the street between the clinic and the sheriff’s office, each holding a weapon. One of the men urged his mount forward, doing a complete circle as he eyed anyone gathered on the street.

  The guy raised his hand, waving his gun. “Rumor has it you have a doctor in your midst. I’m giving you all one minute to bring him to me before I start making patients.”

  Hollis cursed, glancing around the street as best she could through the glass. With most of the crew working, the majority of people left in the camp were support workers. Even Marla was caught off to one side, a box of vegetables in her arms.

  The guy fired a shot into the sky, drawing a few startled screams. “Thirty seconds, Doc. Or I start shootin’ at more than clouds.”

  Calm settled over Hollis as she checked her pistols then headed for the door. She’d spent years dealing with men like this while traveling with her father. A skill she knew she hadn’t lost. The cowboys turned to stare at her as she stepped out of the clinic to stand on the porch, arms at her sides, her twin Colts visible on her hips. She didn’t speak, choosing to wait until they addressed her.

  The man glanced back at his companions then dismounted, letting the reins drop as he strode toward her, his gun still palmed in his hand. He nodded at her, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “Afraid we don’t need a whore, right now. Though, if you give us a few minutes, that might change.”

  Hollis cocked her head to the side, mentally cataloging her best line of defense, as she stared at the man. “I believe you were bellowin’ for the doctor?” She made a point of looking at each of his men. “Though, I don’t see anyone in need of my services.”

  “You’re the camp doctor? You?” The man laughed. “You’re a woman.”

  “That’s mighty astute of you to notice. Now, is one of your men bleedin’ or not? Because I have other patients to attend to.”

  “If you’re the doctor, how come you’re bleedin’? And you’re armed?”

  “I’m armed because I try not to bleed. Doesn’t always work out in my favor. If you’re done wasting my time, Mr.…”

  “The name’s Buford. Thomas Buford. And you are?”

  “Dr. Chambers.”

  “Well, Dr. Chambers, it seems a couple of gentlemen from here got on the wrong side of a fight last night. Killed all but one of my men. Thankfully, my younger brother managed to escape, but he’s not fairing so well, and I’m thinkin’ he’ll die if he doesn’t get some kind of medical care.”

  She looked at his crew, again. “I don’t see anyone here fitting that description.”

  “Poor lad wasn’t strong enough to ride. Which means you need to come with me.”

  “And you thought you’d be able to plead your case by stormin’ in here and shootin’ at people?”

  “You’re talking to me, aren’t ya?”

  “Where are keeping him?”

  Buford laughed. “Do I look like a fool? We’ll escort you.”

  “I never said I’d go.”

  “Suit yourself.” He climbed the few short steps to the landing, stopping a couple of feet away from her. “We can shoot everyone in town, instead, if you’d like.”

  Hollis studied the man. If she’d learned anything from her father, it was how to judge whether a threat was real or not. And based on the look in his eyes and the cocky smile on his face, Thomas wasn’t bluffing. She surveyed the crowd, again, trying to determine if any of the men or women would back her up, when a gun cocked off to her right. She glanced sideways, inwardly cursing as Joseph stood at the side of the clinic, a rifle in his hands.

  He motioned to Buford. “Put the gun down and step back from the lady.”

  Thomas arched a brow, his lips quirking as he made a show of holstering his weapon. Then, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, tossing the match on the ground. “So, even the preachers in this camp are armed. No wonder we haven’t had much luck robbin’ its supplies, other than out on the line.” He took a long draw, blowing the smoke out in a ring. “I sure hope you know how to use that, or you’ll be meeting your maker far sooner than you’d planned.”

  Joseph looked her way just as one of Buford’s men moved. Hollis drew, hitting the outlaw in the arm, knocking him back in his saddle, as she cocked her other pistol, leveling it Buford’s head. She held firm, ignoring the hushed murmurs, her entire focus on the men gathered before her.

  Buford’s smile faded as he glanced at his companion then back at her. “Mighty nice shot. Something tells me you weren’t always a doctor. But you’re outnumbered.”

  “Doesn’t mean I won’t take you and three or four of your men with me to the grave. Is the preacher really worth dyin’ over? Besides, you kill me and your brother’s a dead man.” She held his gaze, knowing she really didn’t have a choice. “So, which is it going to be? My help or a pine box?”

  He didn’t respond for several seconds before laughing. He motioned to his men to stand down then crossed his arms over his chest. “Feisty. I like it. Fine. We’ll leave just as peacefully as we came as long as you come quietly.”

  “It’ll take me a few minutes to gather my supplies.”

  “No. Hollis, you can’t.” Joseph took a step toward her then stopped. “They’ll kill you.”

  “You let me worry about that, Reverend. You just keep the rest of these folks safe.”

  Buford rolled his eyes then motioned her inside. He didn’t speak as he leaned against the wall, watching her put additional supplies in her bag. Her arm protested each movement, the raw wound burning beneath the gauze. She took the time to change the dressing then dropped the bloody bandages in a bowl in the sink.

  Buford glanced at the remnants of her sleeve on the floor by his feet then lifted it up. He inhaled, a feral smile curving his lips before he tossed the ripped fabric beside the bandages. “Wouldn’t want the local wildlife to get attracted by all that blood, now would we?”

  “I suppose not.” She met his gaze. “You never know what might show up.”

  He grinned, leaning in close as he inhaled a second time, a flash of red showing in his eyes. “You mean like maybe a bear?”

  Her breath hitched as she watched the red slowly fade into brown, a set of canines puffing out his upper lip.

  He chuckled. “Did you think your friend was the only one?”

  “How…”

  “My brother saw the guy shift before he escaped. Not to mention the fact you reek of a scent that’s clearly not yours. The kind a mate leaves behind.” His mouth lifted into a smug grin. “Who’d have thought I’d find the answer to two prayers in this bloody camp town.”

  She did her best to school her features, praying he couldn’t tell about Cullen, too. “If you know what he is to me, aren’t you worried he might follow?”

  “Actually, I’m counting on it. You ready?”

  “If you’re a shifter, then why does your brother even need help? Isn’t he like you?”

  “Doesn’t always work that way. So, you’d best hope you can save him.”

  She turned, stopping when he grasped her elbow.

  He leaned in close, a hint of wild animal swirling around them. “If you’re smart, you won’t try anything, because I promise you, my other half isn’t nearly as nice as the man.”

  Buford released her arm, following her out. He held her reins as she tied on her bag then mounted the closest horse. His gaze dropped to her weapons, but he didn’t seem all that concerned.

  The outlaw strode back to his gelding, looking more than calm when the thing reared before settling. He drew it around in a circle, glaring at the townsfolk. “If I think any of you are followin’ me, I’ll kill her.” He nodded at his men, smiling when several of them turned and galloped off. “Stay close, Doc. We don’t want you to get lost.”

  The horse snorted when Buford nudged it into a trot then followed after the other men. He kept his mount next to hers, seemingly indifferent to the way she glanced up the line. His words replayed in her head, but she wasn’t sure what scar
ed her more—that Lucas would follow or that Buford wanted him to.

  The man waited until they’d cleared the town before looking over at her. Red flashed his eyes, again, as he nodded. “And just so you know, if George dies, so do you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Get more ties. I want another three hundred yards laid before we head back.” Cullen moved along the line, directing the next section into place. “Weather’s changing, gentlemen. We need to reach that bridge in ten days’ time or we’ll never beat the snow.”

  The men nodded, the clang of the sledgehammers on the spikes echoing around them. Cullen looked up the line. Just a few more days, and they’d reach the narrowest section, with cliffs rising on either side. Any gunman with an ounce of skill would be able to pick them off. And even though Lucas had made plans to supplement the security, Cullen couldn’t shake the feeling that Buford would do everything he could to capitalize on their obvious vulnerability. Especially after what had happened the other night. Cullen had a bad feeling the situation had escalated beyond supplies and money the outlaws could steal from the line—that he and Lucas had made it personal.

  Cullen ignored the way his stomach clenched at the thought. He should have listened to Lucas and gotten a posse together to hunt the outlaw, and his men, down. Instead, Cullen felt as if he was chasing the bastard’s shadow at every turn.

  “Hey, boss!”

  Cullen turned to acknowledge Frank.

  The man pointed behind them. “Looks like Quinn’s got something important to tell you.”

  Cullen shifted his gaze, locking it on Lucas as his mate barreled toward them, mud flying in every direction. The inklings of fear tightened Cullen’s gut as he made his way toward the sheriff. It didn’t take his increased connection to sense Lucas’ concern or notice the firm press of his lips as he reined in his horse, sliding off the saddle before the animal had fully stopped.

  Lucas tossed the reins to one of the crew, marching quickly toward Cullen. “Where are they?”

  “Where’s who?”

  Lucas darted past him, scanning the area before glancing back. Lines creased his forehead, his increased breath misting in the cool air. “Buford’s gang.”