“I am.”
Cruz couldn’t hide his dislike for the man in front of him. He knew Hobbs was no good. “And who is this man you think we want?”
“Trent.”
With a curse, Cruz grabbed the reins of Trent’s horse and began leading him toward the house, shouting rapidly in Spanish as he went. The front door slammed open like a shot and Consuelo came rushing out. Together, she and Cruz pulled Trent from the saddle. His head rolled limply, and his breathing was so shallow they could barely see any movement.
Chico Cruz put his hand gently on Trent’s head. “Ah, compadre. It’s a poor end. Someone will die for this.”
Consuelo looked strangely at Cruz, never before having seen this kind of gentleness in him. Suddenly, Katie shoved her aside.
“John?” Her hands were covering him, helplessly, touching and probing as tears welled up in her eyes. “God, I’ve never seen so much blood. How can he still be alive?” Suddenly, Katie gasped, talking to herself. “Oh, thank you, Lord.” Now her hands were strong and had purpose. Consuelo and Cruz were looking at her strangely. “Get Murdock. He’s going to make it. Look at this.” She was sobbing and laughing at the same time. Her strong hands ripped the front of his shirt open to reveal his back and side. “One of the bullets just cut through the meat on his side. It went straight through. The second must have hit a rib as he was turning. The bullet followed it around his body and came out the front. If we can keep out the infection, he’ll make it.”
Cruz surveyed the wounds, at once skeptical and hopeful. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”
“I know. But he’s strong. He’ll make it. He has to.” She turned back to Trent. “You crazy, wonderful man. You weren’t shot with bullets, you were shot with luck.” She was still crying and laughing when she turned to the others. “Come on, let’s go. He will be all right. Go.”
Cruz sent one of his riders for Murdock with a stern admonition to hurry, then helped carry Trent inside. Disdaining the normal trail, the rider went bursting through the brush heading for the backside of the Springs. He’d probably kill the horse, but this was a friend of Cruz, and anyone who crossed Cruz….
Katie was holding him close, covered in his blood, kissing him in relief.
Ben Hobbs clucked at his horse, pointing him toward the gate.
“A moment.” Cruz walked out on the porch.
Hobbs reined in.
“Who did this to Trent?” Cruz asked.
“Reeves and Seaver.”
Cruz held the man in his gaze. “You were with them.”
“I didn’t shoot. Chico, I’m not much good, but this I just couldn’t do.” He paused thoughtfully. “But then, I didn’t stop it, either.”
“Then why did you bring him back?”
“We had kind of a face off at the Army Base Camp a while back. One of my men pulled a gun on him. A dumb kid. Trent killed him. I had my own gun half out of the holster when he turned on me. He could have killed me right then. No one would have said a word. He let me go. I never knew why.”
Chico slowly nodded, “It’s because he is not the killer most people think.” He glanced up. “Are you leaving?”
“Damn right I am. I don’t want to be around when he gets up. That man is gonna be mad.”
“I’ll thank you for him, since he cannot do it himself. I’m sure he will not forget your actions. But Hobbs?” Chico’s voice turned cold and brittle. “Ride far from this place.”
Hobbs walked his horse as far as the edge of the clearing surrounding the ranch house, then went cantering down the trail.
Chico Cruz stood on the porch, foot up on the rail, smoking his little black cigarillo. He knew, with Trent out of the picture for a while, Pagan Reeves might make a move on the ranch. He turned to call his men together.
6
It was late. The moon had come and gone, and the night breeze coming through the open windows was soft and fragrant. Occasionally, a whippoorwill would call into the night, an echoing answer coming later from another valley.
Murdock had come and gone, and Consuelo had gone to bed. Chico Cruz was somewhere around, but Katie didn’t know where. He was always around.
She sat next to Trent, her hands idly playing with his hair, careful not to touch the crease on his scalp. He was lying naked under the blanket—head wrapped in white cloth, along with his shoulder, and hip. On his side, and in the middle of his back, were bruises that were getting blacker by the moment. He had been wounded four times, but with luck he would make it. Thank God, she thought as she bent to kiss his lips.
7
It was dark, and warm. There was a fragrance, bringing memories of sweat and passion, something soft and yielding—
Trent woke with a start, a jagged edge of pain slicing behind his eyes. “This can’t be heaven. It hurts too much.” His voice was hoarse, and halting.
Katie leaned over and kissed him, not surprised he was awake. She had been noticing signs of him waking up for an hour. “Welcome back.” Her eyes suddenly filled with tears again, and she leaned back to keep from dripping on his face.
As he tried to move, she placed a hand on his chest. “Shh. Be still. You’ll start the bleeding again.”
His memory was coming back in bits and pieces, like looking through a fog. “Where am I?”
She watched him closely. “Connie’s ranch. Hobbs brought you here and Cruz is keeping watch.”
“Ben Hobbs?” He gazed at the ceiling, trying to digest that little piece of information. “How bad am I?”
Her hand rested lightly on his arm. “You took a beating, but you’ll live. Lost some meat on your shoulder, and you’ll have one hell of a headache. You were grazed on the hip, but that’s not bad.”
“My chest feels like a horse stepped on it.”
“You were hit in the side and back.” She moved so she could see his eyes. “I was afraid I was going to lose you. I don’t think I could stand that.”
He looked at her quizzically. “You’re not mad? The last time we talked, I didn’t think you thought much of me.”
“I’ve had an attitude adjustment.”
He sighed and looked at her for a few moments. “Good. I have too much to live for to check out now. I’ll be around.”
A few minutes later, after she decided he had been kissed and pampered enough, he posed another question. “I can’t figure why they didn’t come down and finish the job.”
“Reeves and Seaver?” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Yellow streak, maybe?”
“It’ll cost them.” He said softly.
“Not for a while, it won’t.” Her voice was stern. “You lost a lot of blood, and your shoulder may get infected if you’re not careful. It’s not too bad, right now, but you don’t want to break that wound open again. You need your rest.”
He digested that thought a moment, but realized he was too tired to argue. “What do you hear from Big Springs?”
“I asked Murdock about the town when she came to look at your wounds. She said Pagan rode into the Springs right after he ambushed you. He was really bragging it up.” At the look in his eyes, she continued quickly. “Whatever he’s doing now can’t be helped. The people will deal with it the best they can. It won’t do any good for you to go after these men when you’re not ready. You would just make it easy for them to finish the job.”
He contemplated that for a moment. Through the pain in his head, it seemed like he had to formulate each thought separately and move it silently to the next one. “So, what do we do, nurse?”
“Connie told me of a place not far from here, an old cabin hidden back in the hills. We’ll go there and let you mend.”