Page 61 of Mail-Order Brides Wishes
Shoulder to shoulder they stood at the window.
“Let’s go outside,” Addie said after a few minutes. “We’ll hear them before we see them.”
The night air was cool. The sickle moon provided little light. Only normal night sounds came to them.
“I know something awful has happened.” The words squeaked from Bryn’s throat.
“Flint has certainly encountered some sort of trouble but there’s no way to know what it is.” Addie took Bryn’s hand. “Dear God, protect our husbands. Bring them back safely.” She ended abruptly.
More minutes dragged by as Bryn’s lungs grew heavier and heavier.
“I hear something.” Addie squeezed Bryn’s hand.
Bryn willed her thundering heart and squeaking lungs to be quiet. “I hear it too.” Horses. Their hooves beating out a rhythm. “They’ve come home.”
Addie ran to the barn, lit the lantern, and held it up, providing light to guide the men home. Bryn followed her, her eyes burning from straining for her first glimpse of Flint.
There were four horses coming toward them. One had a strange bundle across the saddle. But apart from acknowledging the fact, Bryn had eyes for Flint only.
He rode into the light.
She squinted. One side of his face was darkened with something. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw it was a body across one horse and a stranger sitting on another. His hands were bound, and a rope connected him to Flint’s hand.
This must be the rustlers Flint hoped had left the country.
Her knees went rubbery. What had happened?
The four horses went to the barn.
Only the doorframe held Bryn upright.
Jayce took the two horses that didn’t belong to the ranch and their riders while Flint stopped in front of Bryn and swung to the ground.
She gasped. Blood darkened his face. Soaked the shoulder of his shirt. “You’re hurt.” The words trembled so badly she wondered if he’d even understand.
“Some. Not bad.”
They faced each other, a thousand unspoken words between them.
“Sorry ta worry ya.”
“You’re hurt.” Of all the words flooding her head, those two were the only ones she was able to speak.
Jayce spoke as he tied one horse to a stall and jerked the man from the second one. “Flint found these two helping themselves to our cattle. One of them wasn’t smart enough to acknowledge their business was over.” He tipped his head toward the body over the saddle. “Same one that managed to discharge his firearm at Flint. His bullet hit Flint though, thankfully, it doesn’t appear too serious.”
Bryn’s inside burned hot and furious. He was shot. By one of these no-good scoundrels. She couldn’t inflict revenge on the responsible one. He was dead. But the other one— She took a step toward him, her fists bundled at her sides, her throat burning with anger. “You no good—”
Jayce stood in front of her. “Take Flint to the house, tend his wound, and feed him.” Although his tone was gentle, he clearly meant to stop her from going further with her anger.
His words made her realize she had more important matters to tend to. She caught Flint’s elbow and they headed for the house. Twice she had to force strength into her legs, especiallywhen Flint faltered partway across the yard. Was he seriously injured? She wouldn’t be able to tell until she got him inside and had a look.
In the house, he stepped away from her hold and sat on a chair, letting out a huge sigh.
“I ain’t never killed a man before.” She detected both weariness and defeat.
“Sounds like you didn’t have any choice. If you hadn’t—” If he hadn’t defended himself, it might be him hanging lifeless over the saddle. As it was, the bullet had come too close for comfort. A few inches to the left and he’d have a hole in his head rather than an injury on one side. How deep had the bullet gone? How serious was his injury? Only one way to find out and she trembled like a leaf in a strong wind.
She pushed aside her light-headedness and forced air into her starving lungs.
