Fired Up (2 page)

Glynna veered for the side of the canyon, hard on Vince's
heels. Her children needed no urging; they were outpacing her now, dragging her along.

As they reached the trees, Glynna glanced back to see the slab of stone coming straight for them.

They reached the shelter of a clump of undersized junipers and dashed behind them just as the huge rock hit. The slender trees bent backward, and for a few terrible moments they seemed about to snap and crush all of them.

Janet flung herself against Glynna's legs. Paul grabbed her too, coming from the other side.

The trees held. The rolling stone stopped at last, then tipped over to land flat on its side with a thud that seemed to shake the ground.

Vince charged out of the trees, still carrying Dare. He took a fierce look at the avalanche.

The pass was choked with dirt, and stones still trickled down with a grating racket. But the worst seemed to be over. Some of the tension left Vince's shoulders.

“I think it's done.” Glynna emerged from behind the trees, the children still clinging to her. She inhaled silted air and coughed. “Of course I thought it was done before.”

“Yeah, me too.” Vince, his face coated in dirt, flashed his glowing white smile. “But this time I'm sure.”

His words were casual, but his actions said he wasn't being careless. He walked well away from the pass before he crouched, easing Dare off his shoulder to lay him gently down on a grassy stretch alongside the canyon road. Blood flowed from several scrapes on Dare's face, and two big knots were visible on his forehead. But the ugliest wound was on his back.

Jonas had left the buckboard again, shaking his head. “How much control you got over that horse of yours, Vince? We need the water in your canteen.”

Vince saw puffs of dust in the air where his horse had galloped away. He paused from examining Dare, lifted his fingers to his mouth, and blasted a deafening whistle.

Dare flinched and his eyes flickered open, then closed again.

Glynna wanted to go to his side with an urgency that was shocking. Her children held her back. She realized blood was dripping onto her dress and that she still clung to Paul's handkerchief.

Dabbing at the raw scratches on her cheek, she watched Vince and Jonas tend to Dare.

“What's going on?” Dare slurred his words and tried to roll over.

Vince's horse came trotting around the corner toward them. Glynna noticed its flank was bleeding. Then, far behind, she saw a second horse—Dare's—coming much more slowly, acting skittish, and who could blame it?

A gasp of pain from Dare got her full attention.

Vince, on his knees, tore what was left of Dare's shirt off. Dirt stuck everywhere. Vince grabbed the remnants of Dare's shirt, folded it roughly and pressed it against the gash above his shoulder blade.

Dare groaned in pain and pulled both arms up so he wasn't quite flat on the ground anymore. He propped himself on his bent arms enough to lift his head.

Running footsteps turned their attention. Luke Stone appeared at the other end of the canyon's narrow neck,
barely visible through the thinning grit. “I heard the avalanche.”

“Can you get through?” Vince yelled.

Luke paused and studied the hillside. “Yep, I'll have to do some climbing, but I can make it.”

“Wait,” Vince shouted, “bring us water. We've got some on our horses, but we might be a while rounding them up.”

“Hang on.” Luke turned and ran as if his friend's life depended on it. Another decent man.

Glynna turned back to Dare. “He saved me.”

Jonas and Vince looked up at her tearful statement. Their faces were smeared with dirt, their clothes and hair gritty with dust and gravel.

Glynna felt her eyes burning. “And you both came back for us. You got my children to safety and then came for me.”

A trickle of blood ran down Vince's neck. He'd been hurt pulling her and Dare out of the avalanche and protecting her children.

She'd cried a lifetime's worth of tears in the last year. She'd hoped, with Flint dead, maybe she wouldn't need to shed any more for a while. But this generosity touched her so deeply. “I didn't know there were men like you.”

“‘There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother,'” Jonas said. He heard footsteps again and spun around.

Glynna saw Luke, canteen in hand, charging toward them, running flat out to help his friends. Despite her struggle to stop them, tears ran down her cheeks. She swiped at them.

“Now's no time for crying.” Vince sounded aggravated
by her tears, almost past bearing, which oddly made Glynna want to smile. “We got work to do here. You can cry when you've got nothing better to do. And I think it's best that you pick a time when you're alone. For right now, I need something bigger to stop the bleeding, and you could better occupy your time by helping me.”

Jonas threw off his coat, tore his shirt open, ripped it off and handed it over. In the chill November breeze, Jonas dragged his coat on over his long-sleeved undershirt.

Glynna took a step toward Dare. Only when she tried to move did she realize her children surrounded her still and held her fast. She wondered if they were clinging to her in fear or did they, especially Paul, want her to stay away from all these men?

Vince fought Dare's fast-bleeding gash. Jonas had given up the shirt on his back. Luke was clambering through a dangerous canyon gap. Glynna saw their bond, and because they'd mentioned the war, she assumed they'd met there, but she knew little about these men who were so loyal to each other.

Dare propped himself up a bit higher.

“Lay down,” Vince ordered.

Dare ignored them. His eyes were clearer and focused, though he moved slowly.

Glynna pressed the kerchief against her cheek. She wasn't that steady on her feet, and although she wanted to go to Dare and help care for him, she wasn't completely opposed to her children holding her upright. “Parson Cahill, you said, ‘There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.' What does that mean?”

“It's from the book of Proverbs,” Jonas answered.

Dare added, “Jonas is fond of quoting it when he thinks about us.”

“Us?” Glynna knew they were friends, but this sounded like they were more than that.

“The Regulators.” Flinching as Vince pressed down, Dare didn't say more.

“What's a Regulator?” Glynna should probably leave him alone.

“It's how we all met.” Dare winced.

Then it occurred to her that he might want to distract himself from what was going on. She knew she'd rather forget the pain of being stoned half to death. So she kept talking. “But what does it mean, Regulator?”

“Luke, Jonas, Vince, and I and a whole lot of others teamed up to keep the peace in Andersonville Prison.”

“I've heard of that. It was a prison camp during the War Between the States. In Georgia, wasn't it?”

“Yep,” Dare said. “And as mean and hungry a place as has ever been known on earth.”

“Well, I've heard there were some awful prison camps in the North, too.” Glynna hadn't meant to sound indignant, but she was a daughter of the South, after all.

“True enough, the North had their camps and their harsh treatment, no doubt about it. Anyway, in Andersonville, they called those of us who were in charge of law and order ‘Regulators.' It is a bond between us. It's why we came down here. Luke is one of us. He needed help when he found his father killed and his ranch stolen, so we came and fought at his side.”

“And saved me in the process by killing my no-good husband.”

Dare turned his head enough to look her in the eye. “It was always going to be a fight, we knew that. But our hopes were to lock Greer up for what he did to Luke's father. We didn't go into it hoping to kill.”

“I'm sorry it came to that, but you rescued me from Flint's brutality as surely as you rescued me from this avalanche. Thank you for—”

The sound of stones rolling turned her attention, and she could tell they'd all braced themselves to run. Luke was across the rubble and climbing down. He got on level ground and rushed for them. “How is he?”

“His shoulder is cut and he took a whack on the head. He needs stitches, but he's the only one around here that knows how to set them.”

“I can do it.” Glynna's stomach twisted as she remembered the stitches she'd sewn into human flesh in the past. And the price she'd paid for helping a deserter.

Vince gave her a sharp look. She could feel herself being assessed. At last he jerked his chin in agreement. Which might mean she'd passed whatever test he'd been giving her. Or it might mean he realized their choices were very limited. “We don't have any supplies to do it here.”

“There's a sewing box in my crates.” Glynna pulled away from her children and hurried to the buckboard. Most of the crates were open, as there'd been no sense in nailing them shut for the ride to Broken Wheel. She identified the right one and clawed through the packed clothes until she found the small satchel containing needle and thread.

Whirling back to Dare, she rushed over. “These are silk threads.”

“Let me see 'em.”

Glynna found treating a doctor was more of a trial than treating someone who had no idea what she should be doing. She handed over the thread.

“These aren't as heavy as they should be. Where's my horse? My doctor bag is on it.”

Vince glanced in the direction the saddle horses had run. “I see him and my horse. I can probably catch mine, even spooked like this. He's a mighty well-trained critter. Yours isn't so well behaved, though, and not likely to know my voice. If I catch mine, I can use him to lasso yours, but I'd be a while.”

“No. Let's get this sewed up. This silk thread will do. Just double it.”

“All of you get away from Dare for a second.” Luke held the canteen but didn't hand it over. “You're covered in dirt and sand. Knock it off yourselves before you touch him again.”

“Yep, there's no sense sewing gravel into my back.”

Glynna backed away, as did the rest of them, except Vince, who kept holding down the compress. The rest of them shook the grit off. They kicked up quite a cloud.

Coming back to Dare's side, she knelt across from Vince and held down the pressure bandage while Vince dusted himself off.

“Okay, let's see if the bleeding's stopped.”

She lifted the rags and saw the rest of Dare's back. Three ugly scars. Stab wounds. Old ones. One on each shoulder
and another lower down. She had to clench her jaw to keep from asking about them.

“Dare's covered with dirt, too,” Glynna said. “But most of it's been washed off his back by the blood.”

“Lucky me.” Dare twisted to look.

“There isn't any chance you might feel a bit faint, is there?” Glynna would have preferred him unconscious as she needled him in the back. But she had no hope. The man was wide awake and that was that.

“Nope.” He looked at the needle she was threading. “Are you any good at this at all?”

“
Good
is such a vague word.” Glynna took the canteen.

“So be specific. I don't mind putting off the minute you plan to—Ouch! That's cold.”

Glynna let the water from the canteen flow over the injury. “You've got one main cut on your back.” She thought information might make him feel more in control. “But the skin all around it is scraped and bleeding. The skin is kind of ragged, not like a straight . . .” She felt dizzy for a second and decided to shut up before she talked herself into fainting.

“A straight what?”

“I'm ready now. Be still.” Glynna reached for Dare's back, then paused and looked at Janet and Paul. Janet was pale, her hazel eyes riveted on Dare's back. Paul had his arm around his little sister so tight he might have been holding her up. Glynna's eyes shifted to Jonas. “Can you take the children away? They don't need to see this.”

“I'm fine, Ma,” Paul said, his usual sullen attitude on full display.

Glynna met his glare, worried about her son more every day. “I want Janny to step away. And I don't want her alone. Go on now.”

Jonas rose and went to the children. “I'm going to need help clearing out the back of the wagon so we can carry the doctor to town. C'mon, let's go.” He urged the children toward the buckboard.

“I'll round up the horses,” Luke said and then walked off.

Vince stayed on his knees beside Dare.

“I can ride,” Dare said. He narrowed his eyes, tough guy to the bitter end.

Watching until the children were well away, Glynna bent close to Dare's ear and whispered, “I can do this a lot better without them watching.”

Dare nodded. “Get on with it. You're right it needs to be cleaned before you sew. I'm not sure if that means you know what you're doing, or it's just common sense and you've got some.”

“Well, you're the doctor. Feel free to dispense advice.”

“I'm not a doctor.”

Jonas dropped the tailgate with a sharp clink of the metal chains and started lifting crates. The children pitched in.

It took a long time for Glynna to be satisfied with her efforts in cleaning the wound, but finally she drew the skin into place. “Vince, can you hold it for me?”

Vince, cool as ever, replaced her hands with his.

There was no way around it, so Glynna went right through with the needle in Dare's poor, already-violated flesh. She flinched.

Dare didn't even react.

“You're tough,” she said.

Dare gave her a half smile. “Don't ever forget it.” He then folded his arms so he could rest his head.

Glynna turned to the next stitch. A wave of nausea surprised her. She'd always kind of enjoyed sewing up her first husband. Of course, he'd deserved being stabbed in the back. Which reminded her. “Did someone stab you in the back?”

Looking over his shoulder, his lips curled without a speck of humor. “Yep, I got all three of those in Andersonville.”

“I thought that was where you learned to be a doctor. Who stabs a doctor?”

“You'd be surprised. The list was pretty long.”

“Yeah, we stopped a whole lot of them,” Vince added without looking up from where he held his friend together.

“Were you a bad doctor?” Glynna asked, trying desperately to distract herself from what she was doing—to stave off an unfortunate graying of her vision and buzzing in her ears.

Vince found a real smile. “He was about the worst doctor you've ever seen at first. Not as bad as Luke, though. They found Luke another job.”

“I'm not a doctor.” Dare sounded disgruntled.

“And yet you have a doctor's office and dispense treatment to everyone in the area.”

“There aren't many folks who need anything fussy done. I can handle the basics.”

“You just described about every patient who goes to a doctor,” Vince said with a disgusted shake of his head.
“Why don't you just admit you're a doctor and quit caterwaulin' about it?”

“Can we tend this wound and get to town?” Dare, sprawled on his belly in the grass, glared at Vince over his shoulder.

“I'm going to be at this for a while. Why don't you tell me more about the Regulators and how you became a doctor. I could stand the distraction. Unless you want to talk about me opening a diner. I'm slow getting it opened.”

“You needed to heal up first.” Dare turned to her. His voice was deep with a hint of roughness, like he had some of the grit and gravel from the air stuck in his throat. His blue eyes were kind.

“Broken Wheel is going to be glad to have that diner open again.” Vince seemed willing to talk even if Dare wasn't.

“There'll be nothing fancy. I'm a decent cook, but it's not my greatest gift.”

“Most likely the cowboys you'll be cooking for are worse than you. And they like a meal cooked by a woman. Besides that, a lot of the time they're about half starved, so you'll be okay.”

Glynna didn't think Dare's expectations were overly high, and that was just as well. “So who stabbed you?”

“Just finish up.” Dare quit watching her as if he could put distance between them. All things considered, that wasn't likely.

“Listen, my hands are coated in blood. I almost got buried under a rockslide, and all my earthly possessions are right now being set along the trail to be abandoned. I don't
really mind; they remind me of that no-account rattlesnake I was married to. But I think I deserve something for sewing you back together. You could tell me who planted a knife in your back. Was it one person who stabbed you three times? Or did three people attack you all at once, or—”