Fired Up (24 page)

“Don't sew me up.”

Dare drew Glynna's attention from thoughts she couldn't bear. She couldn't do a thing about Tina's suspicions right now. She needed to doctor the doctor, and then she'd straighten out the mistaken notions about her son.

“Why not? I did a fine job of it last time. I think we decided I'm the second best doctor in this town. You can't fix this yourself.”

“Yeah, you did the sewing just fine, but I see a look in your eyes that's scaring me.”

Glynna, drawn to him, her gaze locked on his, knew he'd gotten Tina's unwilling accusation, and Dare wanted to buffer Glynna's pain because . . . because . . . with a barely suppressed shudder she realized it was because Dare thought it was true, too.

Well, the both of them were dead wrong. What they thought wasn't possible, and she dismissed the very idea. She slid her eyes back and forth between the two of them. “We'll talk about this later.”

Dare's gaze sharpened. Tina nodded.

“Paul, help us get Dare off the floor.” Glynna had to worry about first things first. “Tina, you concentrate on keeping that cloth hard against Dare's wound.”

As gently as possible, they moved Dare. He managed to stand, but he was so wobbly that it took all three of them—well, four counting Dare—to get him up and on the bed.

Glynna got the carbolic acid. “Paul, get some water. There are hot wells on Dare's stove. If there's not water in them, start some heating.”

“No, I can run to my place,” Tina offered. “We don't have time for heating water.”

“You're not going anywhere alone, Tina.” Dare was mighty bossy for a man who was bleeding and semiconscious.

Paul hurried out to the kitchen and called back, “There's water in here.” He soon returned with a sloshing basin.

“I'm going to need more rags.” Glynna looked up at her surly son, who quickly grabbed a stack of them off a shelf.

When he'd brought them to her, Glynna said, “Go back to the diner, Paul. Janny's there alone, sleeping. I don't want her to wake up and be afraid.”

Paul looked like he was going to defy her.

When Dare didn't protest Paul's going off alone, Glynna's stomach twisted. Dare thought Paul had done the stabbing, so he wasn't in any danger.

“Do it!” Glynna snapped, her anger at the implications of that knife coming out in her voice. If he wasn't so stubbornly hostile, no one would suspect him of stabbing a man.

In the split second of distraction from Mitch Porter's six-guns, Lana yanked her wrists free and hurled that blasted knife straight at Vince and Jonas. They both dove for the floor. Lana ran, screaming, straight at Asa.

Asa wasn't a man to shoot a woman, so he jumped aside. Vince wheeled to grab her.

“Stop right there or I'll shoot you dead.” Porter's voice carried such dire truth that Vince stopped and turned to face the former sheriff. The man stood there with two Colt revolvers drawn and cocked.

Porter was the back-shooting type. Now that Vince was facing the coyote, the danger was probably past, even though Porter had his guns drawn and Vince's was still holstered.

Lana thundered down Asa's stairs. The door to the outside opened and slammed shut.

“She stabbed Dr. Riker in the back,” Jonas said, shoving past Vince. “Now she's getting away.”

Something mean, maybe evil, shifted in Porter's eyes. Vince couldn't put his finger on it, but Porter didn't look like a man protecting a woman. He had his own reasons for pulling those guns.

“I haven't heard much but snoring from her tonight.” Porter started straight for them. “She didn't stab anyone. She's been right here.”

Then Porter, the arrogant little banty rooster, got too close. Jonas made a smooth, fast move and wrenched both guns from Porter's hands.

Vince didn't wait to talk sense into Porter, but instead turned and ran after Lana. Asa was still standing there,
armed, but he pointed the muzzle of his rifle toward the ceiling and let them go. Asa probably didn't care much what happened so long as they got out of his boardinghouse to do it.

Jonas's footsteps pounded right behind Vince.

“You get back here!” Porter shouted. He was coming, too. Vince ran outside, took a quick look toward town, and saw nothing.

“She'll go into the woods.” Jonas dashed toward the back of the building, which stood near a clump of cottonwood trees. Vince saw that Jonas was now carrying both of Porter's guns. Beyond the trees were jagged boulders and scrub mesquite, arroyos and mesa—some of the wildest land Vince had ever seen. A thousand places to hide if a woman was savvy, and there was reason to think Lana was just that, since she'd disappeared into this land for nearly a month.

And they'd just let her escape into that rugged wilderness.

“She lived off the land after Bullard died,” Vince said. “She knows what she's doing.”

“Let's split up and listen for her,” Jonas said. “She should be running still. We got her knife, and she didn't have a gun, so even if she waylays us, we should be able to overpower her.”

“A rock to the head might slow us down some,” Vince said. He went to the right of the cottonwoods, while Jonas headed to the left. Soon they were swallowed up by the night. An hour left before sunrise, Vince figured. A woman could get herself mighty well hidden in an hour.

Paul didn't budge. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? You want to be alone with him.”

The more her son talked, the more Glynna knew why Dare and Tina suspected him of this. She could see the regret on their faces; they didn't want to suspect him. But his hostility was so overwhelming, it gave them pause.

But not her. She had to get him out of here so she could talk sense into them. Glynna dug deep to find her motherly voice. “I'm not alone with him and you know it. Miss Cahill is here.”

“She won't be for long.” Dare's voice cut into Glynna's effort to be strict.

Tina lifted her head, surprised. “Why not?”

“Because I don't want Paul going out alone, either.”

A terrible tension eased in Glynna. Dare was letting Tina go with Paul. Tina didn't seem to want to leave, but not out of fear of being alone with Paul. No, she wanted to stay and help.

Glynna drew a deep breath. Yes, they had to suspect him, but they clearly didn't really think he'd done it.

“Tina, you're going with him,” Dare said firmly. “Whoever stabbed me, unless somehow Vince and Jonas caught . . . him, is still out there. I shouldn't have Glynna here with only the two of us to keep watch, because I'm not worth much. But Janny shouldn't be alone. Bring me my gun, Tina. That way, at least we're in pairs.”

Tina said, “I'm stanching your bleeding back, Dare.”

“Glynna, take over.” Dare rapped out the order like he'd just gotten promoted to General.

Tina narrowed her eyes at him, unimpressed with his orders, but then she looked at Glynna and nodded.

So Glynna took over pressing on the wound.

Tina got Dare's gun out of the holster hanging from a peg by his front door and brought it to him. When Tina was close, Dare said quietly, “Take the Winchester over the door for yourself. Lock the diner up tight. I'll send Jonas over just as soon as he gets back.”

A lot passed between Tina and Dare in a single glance. Tina went and got Dare's rifle.

She moved to the door, but Paul stood there with his arms crossed, planted. “You're not staying here alone with him, Ma.”

Glynna was fed up. “Dare's got a knife wound in his back, for heaven's sake. To say I want to be alone with him is foolish. Janny will be terrified if she wakes up alone.” Glynna couldn't keep up her bossy-mother tone. Maybe that was the root of all their problems. Too much pleading, and not enough of Glynna being in charge. “She's made such progress lately, Paul. A lot of it because of Dr. Riker's care of her. Instead of insulting him, you should be thanking him. Now go.”

Paul gave her a look so dark, Glynna faltered inside. What was her boy capable of?

Finally his eyes dropped from hers and he whirled away, tore the door open and stormed out, slamming it behind him. Tina dragged it open and hurried after him. If she didn't want to be out alone, she needed to keep up.

When the door clicked shut again, Glynna turned to Dare, who was watching her with kind eyes.

The moonlight came and went as clouds scudded across the night sky. In one moment of brightness, Vince saw a shadow slip around a boulder in the distance.

It all came back to him.

War.

Vince had been a spy. Not just a sneaking-around kind of spy, though he'd done that, too. He'd also been a dab hand at a Southern accent, learned from his mother, who'd married a wealthy Chicago businessman and brought her Southern charm to the North with her.

Vince had gone behind enemy lines, acting like a Reb. He'd enlisted in their service, gathered information, and gone back up North with it. It'd worked right up until he got caught and landed in Andersonville.

He'd lived to tell the tale, and now he found his old sneaking skills all right here at hand. He moved silently and kept to the shadows, watching for any movement.

There she was. She had on a dark dress, but it was a lighter dark than the shadows and boulders. He caught
only a tiny glimpse of her every so often. She was good. He'd give her that.

Moving slow and steady, in utter silence, he closed the distance as she appeared, then vanished, rounding man-high boulders, sliding behind scrub brush.

With his eyes on the last spot, forward and to his left, a sudden motion to his right gave him a start. He clawed for his gun, then froze. A chill shot down his spine as something low, more animal than man, slid away, floating like a ghost on his left again. Definitely Lana. His night vision was as sharp as an owl's, and he saw her crawling. But she was too far from where he'd seen motion from his right. So who had he seen? Jonas wasn't this close, but what if he'd veered this way? It made Vince leave his gun firmly in its holster. He wasn't pulling the trigger at anyone or anything unless he was sure beyond any doubt of what he was shooting at.

Of course, that was always his rule, but Lana's unexpected, ghostly appearance told him just how on edge he was.

Had Porter come out here? What about Asa? Vince couldn't very well holler for everyone to identify themselves.

Vince faded back against a towering cottonwood, studying the terrain, listening, mindful with each breath to remain silent. Then, coming from his right, something dark rushed straight toward him.

Honestly, Dare was as tired of getting stabbed in the back as a man could be. “Finish bandaging, then we'll talk.”

Dare could see that Glynna wanted to tear someone's head off. Too bad his was the only one handy.

He spent every second of her bandaging time trying to figure what to say to keep his head on his shoulders. But more than he was worried for himself, he didn't want to hurt her.

When finally she finished, she released a tight breath as if she'd fought every second for control while she worked on him. “Maybe now you'll explain to me why you think my son's guilty of knifing you in the back.”

“I . . . let me tell you what's been happening, and why we've wondered about Paul but decided he wasn't involved in the trouble.” He added that last part real quick, before she could start yelling at him.

“Trouble? What trouble?” Glynna probably hadn't even connected the avalanche, the fire, and this stabbing.

Dare was sorry he had to help her out. “It was a man-made avalanche.” Dare very gingerly rolled onto his side so he could look at her better. His back didn't thank him.

“What?” Glynna interrupted him, which gave his back a second to adjust to the new position.

“Someone started that avalanche.” Dare propped himself up on one elbow. He needed to have this talk with Glynna where he could hold her, comfort her, keep her from escaping . . . or attacking. “There's no doubt about it.”

“Paul was in the avalanche. He couldn't have started it.” She wobbled as if her knees were about to give out.

“It started just as he was leaving the pass, and we figured out how he could have done it.” Dare reached up and caught Glynna's hand and pulled her to sit on the bed
beside him. “But it put you in danger, so he couldn't have been involved. Everything he does is aimed at protecting you.”

He loosened his grip on her wrist and caressed her rapidly pounding pulse. “Then my house burned down. That fire was set. Someone was mighty careful to start a blaze that trapped me inside.”

“You think my son tried to burn you to death?” Glynna screeched the question, lurching to her feet.

Glynna struggled, and Dare's arm was killing him, so he let her go. “He's threatened to kill me before and even attacked me, remember? And Paul's carrying a mighty big grudge against any man who gets close to you.”

He looked at Glynna, and their gazes locked. The close moments they'd shared were still there between them.

Dare spoke softly. “We counted Paul out when we realized the avalanche was rigged because that endangered you.”

“We?” Glynna sounded sharp with hurt. “So you and your Regulator friends have been discussing whether my son is trying to commit murder?”

Dare didn't answer. She knew it was true. “We assume all three attacks were done by one person. So if he didn't set off the avalanche, it stands to reason he didn't start the fire, and he didn't stab me.”

He tried to sit up, but the attempt to do so made him dizzy. How much blood had he lost? “I could use a drink of water.” He was too weak to speak clearly, let alone be persuasive. “I need to start rebuilding my blood supply, and I need something to eat. A little broth maybe.”

“There's some soup left over in the diner,” Glynna said. “I can go skim some broth off and bring it here.”

“No, I don't like you out alone,” Dare said, knowing his voice cracked with command. He ran his fingers through his hair and noticed his hand shaking. “I think whoever's after me is only after me, but until we know for certain, we can't take any chances. The broth can wait until Vince and Jonas come back. Water's good for now.”

Glynna headed for the kitchen. Dare lowered himself to lie flat on his stomach, weak as a newborn kitten. Here he was, stuck in bed, with a killer to find.

“Any more orders for me, General Dare?” Glynna came back with a tin cup brimming with water. She was as mad as a wounded badger. Dare didn't blame her, yet it didn't change anything.

“I've got just one.”

He couldn't drink the water lying facedown, and he couldn't roll over and lie on his back, propped up by pillows. So with fierce effort he sat up.

Supported by Glynna, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and managed to not fall on his face. She guided the water to his mouth and it tasted like heaven. Then a few seconds later his stomach threatened to empty. He had to turn his head aside.

“Just one?” Glynna glared, but she didn't dump the water over his head like he thought she might. “Well, what is it? To h-have Paul arrested?”

“No, not that.” When her voice broke like she might start crying, Dare was quick to try to head that off. “That's the last thing I want. I don't think it's him, but if no one
could get to that knife except you and your children, I'm not sure what to think.”

Glynna ran her hand the length of Dare's arm, and it took him just a small move—about all he was capable of—to catch her fingers.

“What are we going to do, Dare?”

She might not have realized it, but she said
we
. She was asking for his help. It made Dare feel about ten feet tall. He knew then that she was through handling her son herself. She wasn't up to turning the boy into a man.

“There's really only one thing we can do. . . .” Dare was going to say it and the thought made him even dizzier, and that had nothing to do with the loss of blood.

“Paul didn't do it,” Glynna repeated. “I know he's not capable of it. He's mostly talk. Just because he's had two fathers, both of 'em low-down dirty skunks, doesn't mean he'd try to kill someone.”

Dare nodded.

“I should never have married either of them.” She tore loose from Dare's grasp and wove her hands together as if she were in prayer. “I was too stupid to be able to judge their character.”

“You weren't given a chance to judge their character. Your first marriage was arranged, your second you were a mail-order bride. Where in all that were you ever given a chance to learn the truth about them? It's a waste of time beating on yourself, Glynna. You can't undo the past.” He meant to offer comfort, but a stab of pain coarsened his tone and he sounded harsh again.

Glynna caught her breath.

He cleared his throat. “We just have to go forward with what needs doing.”

“I don't know what needs doing. I can't seem to reach him. He's so angry all the—”

“Your son,” Dare said, cutting her off, “needs an honorable man in his life.” He sounded grim and that wasn't how he'd wanted this, yet he couldn't think what else to say.

Sweeping aside thoughts of Glynna's traitorous first husband and how she'd helped him, he took a couple of deep breaths and forged on.

“Your son needs someone to teach him how to grow up straight and strong. And the way we're going to help him do that”—Dare reached out and caught her hand again, tighter this time so she couldn't escape—“is to get married.”

The warrior in Vince kicked in hard. Instead of ducking out of sight, he turned and dove at whoever was coming at him.

Slamming into the moving form, he knew a woman when he tackled one. This wasn't one.

It wasn't Jonas either, which left one person. Vince drew back a long overdue fist and punched Mitch Porter in the face. Trust Porter to make a sneak attack. They'd made enough noise to bring Jonas running, which meant Lana was getting away.

Vince stood while Porter lay flat, clutching his jaw, mewling in pain.

“What's the matter with you, Porter?” When Vince asked, suddenly it was more than just a passing question.
What
was
wrong with this man? Lana had said something about seeing someone. “You're not involved with Lana Bullard, are you?”

Porter hesitated for too long. “I-I'm just protecting a woman like any decent man would.”

Decent man
left Porter out, which meant Vince had guessed about right.

Jonas ran up. “Did you get her?”

“No, Porter tried to dry-gulch me. It's a good thing you took his guns or he'd've shot me in the back.”

“I would not!” Porter sounded like a ten-year-old boy accused of stealing a pie off the windowsill.

“I'm tired of having to watch out for him.” Jonas dragged Porter to his feet. “And now Lana's gotten clean away. Maybe Luke can come in and track her once it's light. Let's lock Porter in the jail and get back to Dare. He shouldn't be alone with Lana still running loose.” Jonas shoved Porter toward town.

“I'm not going to jail.” Porter stumbled forward, all the fight drained out of him. Now all he had was whining. “It ain't fittin' to lock up a lawman. And I ain't done nuthin' wrong. I was just lookin' out for Lana.”