Duncan reined in beside her. “The whole place looks like a battlefield.”
“It is a battlefield and if you’re here to help, then do it.”
“I don't see anyone.”
She stopped rifling through loose pieces of debris and cocked her head toward the wagon. “Did you hear that?”
There was a weak and distant groan. Catherine saw a muddied, work worn black boot sticking out from underneath.
“It must have upended during the stampede. Zeke was driving. We have to get him out.” She let out a shrill whistle and Wildfire came running to her side. “Good boy.”
She freed her lasso from the saddlehorn, dallying up the front wagon wheel. Duncan did the same to the rear wheel.
“Let's flip the wagon over. When I holler, you have that horse of yours pull.” She made sure both ropes were tight.
“Now! Pull. You too, Wildfire, come on boy.” The wagon came slowly up and over onto its wheels, wood creaking as it bounced on its axles but it held together in one piece.
She ran around the wagon to the man on the ground, checked for bullet wounds and found none. The wound on his head bled profusely, as they are want to do, but didn’t appear too deep. Running her hands over him, she found his right leg broken. “Zeke, are you all right? Zeke, can you hear me?”
She looked up at Duncan. “It’s broken. It’ll need to be set before we can move him. I can’t do this on my own. I don’t have the strength to set the leg properly. Will you help?”
“Sure. I need two straight pieces of wood and something to bind them.” He took his knife and cut Zeke's pant leg open to see how badly the leg was injured. She could see the bone hadn’t broken the skin and there was no bleeding, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. He could stabilize it enough to get the man to a real doctor.
Catherine returned with a couple of loose boards she’d ripped from the wagon as Duncan started to cut off Zeke’s boot. He hesitated when Zeke moaned, clearly in agony.
“Miss Catherine, is that you? What happened?” He was in obvious pain, but still lucid.
She smiled at him and gently brushed the hair back out of his eyes. “I was about to ask you the same thing. You've got a broken leg and I know it hurts, but before we set it tell me what you remember. All I heard was the cattle rushin’. By the time I got out of the timber, it was all over.”
Zeke closed his eyes. “It happened so fast. Roy Walker and his men rode in. Next thing I hear gunshots. I tried to control the team but the wagon got pounded by the cows and tipped...I'm sorry, I don't know what happened after that.” He closed his eyes then opened them wide. “The team! Where's Abel and Bessie?”
She shook her head, “Don't worry, they're fine.”
Zeke nodded then looked at Duncan. “Who's this? A new ranch hand? Replacing me already?” He tried to smile, but winced in pain instead.
She patted his hand. “Don't be silly Zeke, you know you’re irreplaceable. Besides, I can’t let your Sarah and little Jacob go, so I guess you have to stay too. This is Duncan McKenzie.”
“Mr. McKenzie, any friend of James Evans' is a friend o' mine.” Zeke lifted his hand. “But if you continue cuttin’ on my boot, I’m goin’ to kick you with my other leg. They’re the only boots I got.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’ve got to get this boot off so I can set your leg and if you kick me I’ll have to knock you out.”
“No way.” Zeke ripped his hand from Duncan’s and tried to rise, but Duncan held him down.
Catherine grabbed Zeke’s hand and gently held it. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna buy you the best boots in Creede. I’ll make Gordon send all the way to Chicago if I have to. I’ll even make sure that Jacob has a pair to match his Daddy’s.”
Zeke stopped struggling and relaxed. “The best, huh?”
“The best. I promise,”
“Catherine’s promised and I’m a witness. Let’s set your leg and get you home.”
“Can you hold him down while I set it?”
She took a deep breath and nodded.
Duncan turned to Zeke and said calmly, “This is going to hurt like hell, but I’ve got to do it. I’ll be as quick as I can. Yell, if you want.”
“Here, bite down on this, it’ll help.” Catherine handed him the leather sheath from her knife.
“Just get it done.” Zeke closed his eyes, put the leather between his teeth and locked his jaw.
“Wait a minute. You’ll need something to bind it.” She pulled her shirt from her pants and tore two strips from the bottom. She laid the cloth next to the boards within Duncan’s reach.
“All right, hold him still.” Duncan pulled hard with both hands to set the bones back into place, while Catherine put all her weight on Zeke's shoulders to hold him down. Placing one board on either side of the leg, he tied them tight with the strips of cloth from her shirt.
Zeke had not uttered a sound. He’d fainted.
SNEAK PEEK
TAME A WILD WIND
by
CYNTHIA WOOLF
Cassandra ‘Cassie’ Ann Drake O’Malley pulled her little black buggy through the gates of the Circle M ranch, past the bunkhouse and the ice house into the yard in front of the main house. Catherine and Duncan McKenzie were expecting her and waited on the wide porch that wound around the entire house. Their son, Ian, age ten waited by the hitching rail to tether her horse.
“Ian!” RJ hollered. Cassie’s son, Raymond James, called RJ, jumped off before the small conveyance came to a stop, much to Cassie’s exasperation.
Ian, who had the blue eyes and dark hair of their father, grabbed the reins Cassie tossed his way and wrapped them around the hitching rail, then slapped his friend on the back, much as their fathers used to do. “RJ, good to see you. Come look at our new colt.”
The McKenzie girls Elizabeth “Lizzie”, aged seven and Mary, age three, were not to be out done by their brother and ran down the porch steps, their red hair bouncing and shouted, “Sarah!” in unison.
“Sarah Jane O’Malley! You will not jump off this buggy.” Cassie admonished and grabbed the little girl, who was a miniature image of Cassie, before she jumped and hurt herself.
Duncan rushed to help Cassie down but took Sarah Jane first. “Here you go, baby.” he said as he set her on the ground and she took off running for her friends.
“Thank you Duncan. She forgets she’s only two. She thinks she can do everything RJ does.” said Cassie
Cassie put her hands on Duncan’s shoulders and let him lift her down. Even though he was just a friend, it was nice to feel such strong muscles beneath her fingers and strong hands on her waist. Even for a second. Nice to remember she was still human. Not so nice to remember how lonely she was.
“Come on in Cassie before Catherine has a fit,” said Duncan.
The lady in question ran down the steps as quickly as her bulk would take her. Catherine McKenzie was due to give birth to their fourth child at any time. Cassie loved her friend but was envious of her. Though Michael seemed happy with the one child they’d had she’d always wanted more children. She was pregnant with Sarah when he’d died almost three years ago and would love to hold a sweet babe in her arms again. If Michael hadn’t died she might have had another baby. She guessed she’d have to settle for holding Catherine’s right now.
“Cassie! I’m so glad you’re here. I swear I’m going to have this child tonight, I hope you brought extra work clothes,” said Catherine hurrying her friend up the steps and into the house.
Cassie had always liked the house that Cat and Duncan built. It was two story as most were in those days. All the bedrooms were up stairs. Downstairs they had done differently. There was what they called a great room. It was the kitchen, dining room and parlor all in one huge room. There was also another bedroom and an office down stairs. The great room was to the left of the stairs to the upper level. The office and fifth bedroom were to the right of the stairs.
“You know I always pack extra, when I come.
The kids never stay clean and I want them in their play clothes until we all head to town.” Cassie looked at her friend. “It looks like we may miss church this week. Are you all right? I think you should go put your feet up. Come with me.”
Cassie put her arm around Catherine’s waist and guided her to the sofa. “Now, you sit there and let me go make you some nice chamomile tea.” Cassie turned to Duncan. “Sit here with your wife and don’t let her get up. Why didn’t you send someone for me sooner. The babe has dropped and I think we may have a little one soon, maybe tonight.”
Duncan’s face paled. He was always nervous when Catherine was about to give birth. You’d think that after three, the fourth would be no problem, but it was always the same. And at that point, he forgot he was responsible for putting the babe there in the first place.
“Duncan, pull yourself together and get that footstool over here for her feet. Goodness Cat,” Cassie admonished. “Haven’t you been keeping your feet up like I told you to? Your ankles look swollen twice the size of normal.”
Cassie rushed to the kitchen to start the kettle to boil. She had just starting to pump the water into the kettle when she heard a deep, baritone voice coming from the back door.
“Would you like some help with that?” he said.
Cassie dropped the kettle into the sink. “Don’t sneak up on a person like that.”
He didn’t wear a hat and had obviously been washing up for dinner on the back porch. His damp brandy brown hair glistened in the kitchen light. When he got closer, she looked up, way up, into amazing emerald green eyes.
“Sam Colter, ma’am. Sorry to have startled you.” He held his hand out to her.
“Cassie O’Malley.” His large warm hand enveloped hers. She got a shock of awareness from his touch. Something she hadn’t felt in years, passed between them. Something she hadn’t felt since Michael had died.
“I’ve been hearing your praises, Mrs. O’Malley. Since I arrived yesterday, Catherine has been doing nothing but talking about you.”
Cassie felt the heat creep up her neck. “I’m sorry I can’t say the same, Mr. Colter.”
“No problem. I wasn’t expected, or I’m sure Cat would have been singing my praises to you.” He leaned over conspiratorially and whispered. “I think Catherine fancies herself a matchmaker.”
Cassie laughed. “That she does. You’re not the first man she has thrown at me. Sorry about that.”
SNEAK PEEK
RED NIGHT
By
MICHELE CALLAHAN
Chapter One
Timewalker Taken: Alexa, Seventeenth Daughter of Aryssa
Mission: Present Day, Earth - Destroy the Red Death
Talent: Invisibility
Despite years of warnings, Alexa was not prepared for the freezing shock of her journey to Earth. She wanted to scream in agony, but she had no air to breathe in this in-between dimension. Her mother had explained the frigid reality of the time strands, how her naked flesh would feel as if it were being systematically stripped to her bones by endless shards of splintering ice. This one-way trip to the past would last less than a minute. One minute in her own personal Purgatory, and her sins had been many. So, she gritted her teeth and waited. Waited for the agony to subside. Waited for the nirvana of soft green grass brushing at her skin like a thousand tickling fingertips.
Her mother had been Taken, and her mother before her, and so on, since the Archivers had begun recording the Chronicles Of Time. Death or Service. That had been her ancestor’s choice nearly four hundred years ago, and the eldest daughter in each generation now owed the Archiver a life. The family gift -- invisibility -- had been handed down from mother to daughter for seventeen generations. Her heritage swelled her head and chest with pride. But the unrelenting grip of her ancestry also squeezed her with arduous pressure, demanding she not fail. She did not want to be the first of her line to bring her name dishonor. However, a far heavier burden threatened to pull her into the suffocating quicksand of fear. Billions of lives were at stake. Billions.
She would not fail. She was ready. Her mother had ensured that, taught her how to use her gift to cloak her presence, prepared her for the call of the Archiver and the freezing strands. The Taken were never called upon to ride the strands of time unless the assignment was of catastrophic importance. There was no such thing as an easy task. She had also warned her daughter not to fall victim to the pounding of the blood, the passion of her Gift, until it was safe to do so. The distraction would endanger the strand of time she must now, and forever after, walk upon.
Forever. In a strange world.
Alone.
Panic rose in a crescendo to choke her. Then, as quickly as her roller coaster ride through this icy hell began, it was over. Precious air flooded her starving lungs with heat. She lay semi-conscious on the soft ground and tried to get her bearings as a torrent of warm rain crashed down upon her. A single tear escaped and mingled with the rain on her face. Reality squeezed her heart so tightly she feared it would stop beating. She had arrived, unscathed. There was no going back.
Earth, Midnight, May 6, 2013. Unless the Archiver had erred.
Heaven help her then. Heaven help the world.
****
Never once, in all the years of her rebellious youth, had she ever been a thief. How ironic that now, when the fate of this world hung in the balance, everything she had was contraband. She leaned back into the taxi’s sticky plastic seat and hoped the crisp white cotton Capri pants and shirt wouldn’t be ruined by the filth. A twenty-dollar bill burned in her pocket to pay the cabbie. Alexa sunk her teeth into a huge red apple and hoped the fruit would provide enough energy to keep her going for a few hours. Doom Central was calling her name.
Alexa laughed out loud at her own joke and ignored the cab driver’s questioning glance. The overworked cabbie should be used to seeing all sorts of odd things in a city the size of San Antonio. But even here, she knew she was unique. Her waist-length hair was braided and so pale it gleamed silver. Her eyes flashed a vivid blue in a heart-shaped face. Father had always said she was sixty-two inches of trouble wrapped up in a deceptively innocent looking package. The thought made her want to laugh. And cry.
Too soon the cab driver dropped her off at her destination, one of a handful of Biosafety Level 4 laboratories in the country. The lucky place which, in three days time, would be the epicenter of the end of the world. Earth 8 had died a slow and painful death. It took just under five years from the first diagnosed case of “Red Death” for ninety-five percent of the world’s population to be wiped out. And it all started here. No-Where-Ville, Texas. A party like any other…a night colored red with blood.
Yes. She had three more days to track down the two men in charge, erase every piece of data related to the virus, and break into that lab and kill every single cell of “Mutation-6 of Ebola” in existence. M-6 they called it, until it escaped. Then it became the “Red Death”, named for the hemorrhagic nature of the victim’s death. They should have called it, “stupid-what-the-hell-were-we-thinking?”
SNEAK PEAK
KILLING SECRETS
By
KAREN DOCTER
Join Karen Docter on the dark side of danger and romance with Killing Secrets, the first in her Thorne’s Thorns romantic suspense series. Coming soon!
Excerpt
Killing Secrets
By Karen Docter
Four weeks….
Two days….
Sixteen hours….
…‘Til death.
The first time he laid eyes on her, he stood on the threshold of a doorway he dare not cross. He fell into her fathomless dark gaze, unable, unwilling to shake his soul free and, in that one moment, he knew.
She was meant for him to love.
Untouched by the sordid life that flourished around her, she was sunlight in a gray existence. A smile in a dingy room. A joy such as he’d never known. She was a gift from a cold, unforgiving God. Forever innocent.
<
br /> Why God would give him such a precious angel, he didn’t know. But he suddenly knew what he was willing to die for. What he’d kill for.
In that instant of clarity the monster that lurked in the dark recesses of his mind was freed. A creature designed to kill. To live and die. Over and over again. Until his angel ascended once more to her place in Heaven at God’s feet where he couldn’t reach her.
‘Til death parted them, she was his and his alone.
Certain she’d been lost to him forever, the shock of spotting her again in LoDo, a lower downtown section of Denver, nearly brought him to his knees. His brain tried to tell him he was mistaken. She had more curves than he remembered. Her hairstyle and clothes were different.
Tame a Wild Bride, a Western Romance Page 13
