Rafe's Redemption Page 20

  “Goddamn it.”

  Rafe spun in the direction of the voice. Joe crouched behind a tree, shaking his gun as if it had jammed.

  Shaking, Rafe took aim. Please, God. Please. He fired.

  Joe screamed as two of his fingers were blown apart by the bullet. Rafe swayed, then fell to his knees. His body shuddered so hard he couldn’t feel the gun in his hand. Had he dropped it? He squinted to focus.

  Joe hit him like a train, knocking him back in the snow. He straddled Rafe and drew back the knife. “You’re a dead man, you son of a bitch.” He pulled a knife from the sheath on his hip. “I’m gonna cut your damn heart out.” He pressed the bloody remains of his hand against Rafe’s throat.

  Rafe struggled to breathe as he fumbled for the pistol he kept hidden in his coat. Where was it? Where? He struck Joe repeatedly, trying to dislodge the big man, bucking under the heavy weight. But that didn’t stop the knife. The blade sliced into Rafe’s shoulder just above his heart. Red-hot pain shot through him.

  Joe smiled. “Maybe I won’t finish you. The animals can have you.” He drove his fist into the wound. “Maybe I’ll go comfort your gal.”

  Like hell he would. Rafe’s fingers curled around his pistol. He didn’t bother to pull it from his pocket. The shot echoed like cannon fire.

  Joe looked down as the knife fell from his fingers.

  “But…” Blood gurgled from his mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell over into the snow.

  Rafe closed his eyes.

  It hurt to breathe, but he gulped in the cold evening air and tried to clear his head.

  Goddamn it, he couldn’t die. Maggie would be so scared. He couldn’t leave her alone. He turned to his side and tried to sit up. Nausea rolled over him. He clawed at the snowy ground, crawling a few feet…Damn.

  “Moses. Come here,” he wheezed. The horse took a few steps. The reins dangled within reach. Maybe he could grab them.

  He wrapped his hand around the leather and pulled himself up. The landscape blurred. His body trembled.

  Disgusted, he fell to his knees.

  Wolf ran out of the woods. He whined and pressed his cold nose into Rafe’s palm.

  “I can’t make it.”

  Wolf pressed again and barked encouragingly. Rafe stroked the thick fur.

  “Good boy. Go to Maggie.” Wolf cocked his head.

  “Go home. Take care of her.” Wolf walked a few feet, then looked back. “Go,” Rafe said with as much force as he could muster. He let himself fall back on to the cold, wet ground.

  “I’m sorry, Maggie,” he whispered. Chills racked his body. He let his eyes drift shut.

  What a damn stupid way to die.

  ****

  Maggie folded Rafe’s shirt and looked out the window. It was almost dark. She chewed her lip. Cutting wood was dangerous. A xes and unruly limbs…

  He would be furious if she went to look for—

  She jumped when a thud hit the door. Wolf whined, begging to be let inside.

  “Thank God,” she muttered as she undid the bolt.

  He pushed past her and barked, running in a circle around her legs.

  “Hello, boy.” She peered out the door. “Where’s Rafe?” The barn door was still closed; no light showed from beneath.

  Now, don’t panic. Maybe Wolf just ran ahead.

  She took a deep breath and closed the door. Wolf stopped beside it and howled, scratching to get out.

  Her heart pounded. Fear clawed its way down her back. Something had happened to Rafe. She could feel it.

  Wolf came to her feet and whined, pawing at her leg.

  His foot left dark smudges on her pants—darker than mud.

  Blood! She knelt and dug through his thick fur searching for a wound. There was none. The blood had to be from something else. Someone else.

  Oh, God!

  “Let’s go.” Her voice cracked with fear. She grabbed her coat and hat. What supplies should she take? A gun.

  She raced to the larder and seized the pistol, then tucked some toweling into her pocket. Out in the barn she grabbed a rope, the lantern and some Lucifer sticks.

  Wolf led the way. Maggie trudged through the snow trying to keep up. Occasionally he would stop, look at her with exasperation, then bark as if telling her to hurry.

  Light flakes drifted around her like feathers, but the peaceful beauty of the night was gone, replaced by turmoil and confusion. A ll she could think about was Rafe. How badly was he hurt? Would she be able to find him in the dark? Horrible images filled her mind. She couldn’t allow her thoughts to wander or she would panic. Her heart pounded with exertion and fear. Wolf stayed close to the creek. She tried to gauge how far they’d come, but in the dark it was hard to tell.

  Why hadn’t she gone with Rafe today? The one time he actually needed her, she let him down.

  Her throat ached with unshed tears. “Please, God. Let him be all right.”

  Wolf stopped at a large tree and barked excitedly.

  “I’m coming.” She stumbled over a small hill and almost tripped over a man’s body. Michael! Blood covered his shirt, but his hollow rasps filled the silent night.

  “Maggie.” He wrapped a bloody hand around her ankle. “Help me. That bastard shot me.”

  “Who?” A nd where was Rafe?

  Wolf barked again. She spun toward the creek. Moses stood with his reins dragging the ground. Wolf ran to the water and barked at her.

  Oh, God. No! There were two more bodies. She pulled free from Michael’s hold and ran across the frozen ground. The man beside the creek was large and hairy.

  A nd smelly. The angry man from the auction. The other man…Shudders rolled over her, and she closed her eyes.

  If she didn’t look, it couldn’t be Rafe. It couldn’t be. But like a sleepwalker she moved to the man. He was face down in the snow, but…

  “Rafe!” Her cry tore through the night. Her eyes filled with tears. She dropped to her knees beside him. He didn’t move. Was he even breathing? Her hands shook as she tried to light the lantern. Wolf whined and hunkered down next to Rafe. Once the flame caught, she reached to roll him over.

  “Please be alive.” His hands were ice cold. “Please, please,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me.” Her heart ached with fear. She gripped his body and heaved with all her might. He moaned when she rolled him. A lump formed in her throat. “Thank God.” Hot tears rolled down her frozen cheeks.

  She turned up the wick on the lantern and leaned over him. A scream caught in her throat. Blood covered the side of his face and soaked his left shoulder.

  She peered at his head and lifted his blood matted hair. Lord, there was a crease as big as her finger above his temple, a crease the size of a bullet. She pressed a kiss to his still mouth. “Rafe. It’s Maggie. Don’t worry.

  I’m here now. You’ll be fine.”

  She forced frozen fingers to unbutton his coat, then ran her hands over his chest. There were no bullet holes, but his shoulder was sliced open above his heart.

  He groaned when she moved his left arm.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  She didn’t want to hurt him but needed to see the wound. Holding the lantern up high, she pulled back the coat. Light glinted off a knife that lay between Rafe and Joe.

  Stabbed!

  Blood seeped from the wound again. How much could he bleed and still live? Fresh tears burned her eyes.

  She unbuttoned her coat, took out the towels, then pressed them against the gash. It would need to be held tightly. The rope was too long, too bulky. Besides, she would probably have to tie him on Moses for the ride home.

  She stripped off her coat, then her shirt. The night air cut straight through her union suit. Shivering, she pulled her coat on and tore a strip from her shirt, then fastened it around his head.

  “Damn it,” he cursed. His breathing was uneven.

  “I’m so sorry,” she told him as she wrapped the shirt around the towels and tied the sleeves t
ogether. “A lmost finished.”

  His eyes cracked open. “Maggie?” He sounded as if he didn’t trust what he saw.

  “Yes. I’m here.” She buttoned his coat, trying to preserve any body heat he had left. “You’re going to be fine. We have to get you home now.” Cupping his face, she brushed her lips over his. He took a ragged breath.

  “Can’t…make it,” he whispered. His lids slid shut.

  “You have to make it.” She kissed him again. Her tears dripped on to his face. “I love you.” He looked at her, then raised his hand to her hair.

  “Don’t cry, Maggie.” His hand slipped down until it found hers. “I love you, too.” A chill shook his body.

  “Cold,” he muttered as his eyes drifted shut.

  “Rafe!”

  He groaned. “Maggie. I’m gonna die—”

  “No. Stop it. I won’t let you.”

  He gave a thin smile. “Shoulda known you’d argue.

  But I don’t think—it’s your…decision.”

  How could he just give up like this? A nger surged through her.

  “Then fight, damn you! Don’t leave me. I love you more than anything in this world,” she sobbed. “Please, Rafe. Please don’t die.” Shudders racked her body as she curled up in the ground next to him.

  “Damn it,” he cursed, then moaned in pain. “Go home.”

  “No. I won’t leave you here.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, sharing her warmth. If he was going to die here, then so was she.

  “But I can’t ride.” He coughed. “I sure as hell can’t walk that far.”

  She scrambled to her feet. Relief flooded through her. If he would just try, she would do the rest.

  “I brought a rope. If we can get you on Moses I’ll tie you to him.” Inspiration struck. “Or to me.” She could ride if she had to.

  Rafe shook his head, then grimaced. “Maggie, I don’t think I’m strong enough to pull myself up on Moses.” She knelt beside him and took his hand. “You don’t have to. I’ll throw the wood off the travois and you can lie on it.”

  “A ll right,” he said wearily.

  She grabbed the lantern and scrambled to Moses.

  One, ten, twenty-five logs. Dear God, why couldn’t she throw the wood any faster?

  “A ll right,” she panted when she was done, slipping her shoulder under Rafe. “Come on.” She heaved, but only managed to get him on his knees.

  “I’ll hurt you.” He collapsed back onto the ground.

  “No. We can do it.” She gritted her teeth and helped him back up. “Just use me like a crutch.” Sweat beaded on her lip. Twice he almost knocked her down. When he finally stood, he trembled from the exertion. So did she.

  “Come on now.” She leaned into his weight. “It’s not far.”

  He nodded but didn’t answer. She smiled encouragingly. If he fainted, they would die out here.

  There was no way she could lift him by herself.

  Her arms trembled, her back ached. Silently, she gave thanks when he crumpled onto the canvas.

  “A ll right, sweetheart,” she said, using his favorite name for her, “almost ready to go.”

  “Maggie, remember what I said. I love you.” His voice was laced with pain.

  “You can tell me once we’re home.”

  He gave her a sad smile. “Just remember.” His eyes drifted shut.

  “Rafe!” She dropped beside him and checked his breathing. Unconscious. Well, it was probably for the best. This ride would be hell on him. Gathering Moses’

  reins, she headed downstream. The lantern swung in her hand, throwing shadows across Michael sprawled in the snow, bleeding. A lone. Every bit of her subservient upbringing screamed at her to save him, too.

  “Don’t…leave me here.” He propped himself on one elbow as if he had read her mind. “We’re family.” The words rattled out of him.

  “Not after what you’ve done.” She turned but the click of a pistol’s hammer sent shivers up her back.

  “Help me onto the horse,” Michael ordered.

  Maggie turned. The gun was pointed a Rafe. Hatred roared through her like a wildfire. She would kill Michael herself before she let him hurt Rafe again.

  “I will shoot him if you don’t. You know I will.” Michael’s eyes glittered like a cornered animal’s.

  “Fine. But you’ll have to ride beside him. There’s no saddle.” She reached across Rafe. “Just let me make room.”

  Her hand closed around the gun in Rafe’s pocket.

  Maggie swallowed hard. Could she do this?

  “Hurry up.” Michael coughed. “Damn, but I should have killed you a long time ago.”

  She rotated on her heels, her aim steady. “Yes. You should have.”

  The blast sent a shudder through her body.

  Michael sprawled back onto the ground.

  ****

  Maggie let Wolf lead the way home. Stumbling behind him, she tried to force the horror of what she’d done from her mind. Guilt weighed each step, though she knew Michael would have killed her eventually. For all the preaching she’d done to Rafe about self-forgiveness, it was hard to find any for herself. Instead, she talked to Rafe the entire trip even though he never uttered a sound. The memory of him asking if she always talked so much made tears run down her cheeks.

  The cold night wind cut through her. Was Rafe warm enough? Should she stop and check or keep walking?

  How much farther? Why hadn’t she brought a blanket?

  Tears rolled down her face, the one question that would haunt her forever, almost making her retch.

  Why hadn’t she stopped him from going?

  “A re we almost there?” His tight voice floated from the travois, flooding her with relief.

  “Yes. A lmost.” She hoped.

  Eisshhh.

  The sharp hiss of air made her whirl. He rode, raised on one elbow surveying their progress.

  “What are you doing? Lie down!”

  “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t lost.” He dropped onto his back with a grunt. “You didn’t sound too sure.”

  Damn him for knowing her so well.

  “But you’re doing fine,” he continued. “The house is coming up.”

  The sight of the barn brought fresh tears to her eyes.

  She tugged the reins and led Moses to the cabin door.

  Rafe’s eyes opened as she shouldered his weight and helped him to his feet. “Did we make it?”

  “Yes,” she panted, “we made it. Now we just have to get inside.” She pushed open the door and they stumbled to the table. He dropped into the chair, and his head fell with a thud onto the table, unmoving except for his harsh breathing.

  Sweat poured down her back, her arms shook from overuse. But this was far from over.

  Running outside, she dragged Moses into the barn and stripped him free of the harness. “I’ll be back to feed you later,” she promised, then charged back to the house.

  A fter building up the fire, she unbuttoned Rafe’s coat. He lifted his head when she shifted his shoulder.

  “Shit,” he hissed.

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get these wet clothes off.”

  “A lways…trying to see me naked.” He gave a weak smile. Sweat ran down his face and mixed with the blood until red dripped on to his lap.

  “That’s right. So you better get well fast.” His chuckle turned into a cough.

  “Shhh,” she soothed.

  She worked quickly removing his coat and his clothes, then used warm water to wash his face and chest. His shoulder still oozed blood, the gash so deep she feared stitches wouldn’t hold.

  His eyes opened, gray slits glazed with pain.

  “Cauterize it,” he rasped.

  Tears filled her eyes. God, she didn’t want to hurt him like that, but what choice did she have?

  She nodded and went to heat the knife. He would need whiskey. A ll of it. If only he could drink until he passed out before she had to—

&
nbsp; She couldn’t think about what she was about to do.

  The tears overflowed and rolled down her face, but she brushed them away and checked the blade. It was red hot.

  “It’s ready.” Her voice warbled.

  Rafe nodded.

  She pressed a towel to the wound once more.

  “Drink this.” She filled a cup with whiskey. “A ll of it.” He downed the liquid, wheezing as he held the cup for another. While he drank, she got the knife.

  He met her gaze. “Do it.”

  Hand trembling, she lowered the glowing blade.

  His cry of pain tore through her heart. The smell of burning flesh made her gag. When she pulled the blade away, he lay with his eyes closed. Sweat beaded his skin, his breath rasping in and out.

  “Rafe, it’s over.” She mopped his chest with cool water. He felt clammy. Was that better than fevered?

  “Good,” he mumbled, his eyes open but unfocused.

  “So tired.”

  She covered him with the blankets and put the knife away. Wolf lay on the rug, his low, pitiful whines filling the room. “I know, boy. I’m scared, too.” She changed into clean clothes, then pulled the chair beside the bed. Rafe’s chest rose with shallow breaths.

  His head wound needed bandaging. Her petticoats would work. Pulling them from the burlap sack, she tore them into strips. Carefully she applied the salve to his shoulder, but stood undecided over his temple. It should be washed out, but her stomach clenched at the thought of causing him more pain.

  Do it, Maggie. It’s what he would tell her.

  A fter saturating a towel with whiskey, she cleaned the matted hair free from the gash. He groaned, his faced pinched with pain.

  “Shh. A lmost done.”

  Once the blood and dirt was removed, she coated his temple with salve and wrapped strips of cotton around his head.

  He didn’t move. His breathing had eased, but his facial color had faded to white. God, what should she do now? Cecil would know, but the thought of leaving Rafe alone…

  What if he woke and needed her?

  What if he died?

  She slid to the floor and buried her face into her hands. Wolf licked her hand, his whimpers echoing how she felt. “I know, boy. I love him, too. A nd he will be fine. We’ll take care of him.” She kept repeating the words in her head.