Never Never (5 page)

“Terry, take over,” he said finally to the oldest of the men. “Keep everyone in the wagons. Do
not
move from this spot, ye ken?”

“Aye.”

“I'll be back.” Mike put his horse into a fast trot down the road. The further he rode, the more amazed he was that the wagon train had travelled so far in fifteen minutes. He figured he should be able to see Fiona and Gavin around the next bend in the road. He took the turn faster than he should've and felt his horse's hooves slide on the slippery leaves, losing traction with the road.

Mike's heart beat in his throat as he loosened the reins, trying to let the animal sort himself out and gather control again. His horse found his footing just as Mike saw Gavin and Fiona's horses standing in the middle of the road.

Both riderless.

M
ike swung down from saddle
, his heart hammering in his chest, his agitated breathing so loud he couldn't hear any other sound. When he got closer he saw the reins of Fiona's horse were tied to a bush. Gavin's horse had pulled free. He peered into the woods and tried to hear voices. The perspiration beaded up on his forehead.

There. A woman's voice, light and snatched away on the breeze. Mike tied Gavin's horse and his own to a sapling, then plunged into the woods.

“Fi! Gavin!” he called. “Where are you?”

He stopped and leaned again a birch tree to listen.

“Da! We're over here!”

Thank the saints
. Mike jogged in the direction of Gavin's voice. The branches whipped back and slapped him in the face. There was no path through here but now he could see bushes bent and broken along the way.

He saw them in the clearing. Two figures. His throat tightened.

There should be three figures.

Fiona stood next to Gavin, her hand over her mouth. Declan lay on the ground, his eyes blinking up at the sky.

“What happened?” Mike said as he reached them. He knelt by Declan and touched his hand. Declan turned to look at him. It was then Mike saw the blood-drenched rag held against Declan's chest. “Jaysus! What happened?”

“Two blokes,” Declan wheezed, closing his eyes.

“Where? In the woods?”

Declan's face whitened and he nodded.

“We need to get him back to the wagon,” Fiona said.

Mike braced himself against a tree for leverage and pulled Declan into his arms. Gavin helped lift from underneath until Mike had a decent grip.

“Just clear the way for me,” Mike grunted. Fiona bent back the bushes in front of him.

“He said he got turned around,” Gavin said. “The bastards must have watched him go in the woods. They hit him, then went friggin' mental when he didn't have anything of value on him.”

Mike focused on getting Declan out of the woods without dropping him.

“Took…took me
sgian-dubh
,” Declan gasped. “The one you gave me, Mike. I tried to…I tried to…”

“He tried to get it back,” Fiona said briskly. “So they used it on him.” She glanced at Mike but her eyes went to her husband's wound.

God! Were they in the woods this far?

“I'll get the horses,” Gavin said as he sprinted away.

Mike's arms were screaming from Declan's weight. The last thing he wanted to do was fall to his knees but he wasn't entirely sure he could make it all the way to the road.

“Stop and rest, Mike,” Fiona said.

“Just clear me a path,” he panted, his sweat cooling on his skin, his legs on fire with every step.

Up ahead he saw Gavin mounted up. He heard the sound of rain hitting the forest treetops but none had yet to fall on them.

“We're there, Mike,” Fiona said, putting her hands under Declan's body. Even that little help made a difference and Mike knew he had the strength to make it the rest of the way.

“I'm so sorry, Mike,” Declan said, tears beginning to stream down his face. “So, so sorry.”

Gavin rode into the ditch and through the first line of trees. Mike felt him grab Declan under his arms and pull him slowly into his lap on the horse while Fiona pushed. Declan groaned. The sudden loss of weight on his arms made Mike stumble and he put a hand out to steady himself against Gavin's horse.

“Ye got ‘im, Gav?” he asked breathlessly.

“Aye, good and solid. Meet you at the wagons.” Gavin turned his horse down the road. By the time Mike emerged from the woods Fiona was already mounted and trotting after them.

Mike looked around, wondering if the blackguards who'd stabbed Dec were still around. The road was silent except for the fading clip-clop of Gavin and Fiona's horses and the patter of the rain on the road.

While he hadn't had time to get a close look at Declan's injuries, he could tell by the amount of blood down the front of him that it wasn't good.

Not good at all.

S
arah was
the first to see Gavin ride up with Declan's limp body in his arms. The gossip had spread like a prairie fire up and down the little wagon train.

Everyone knew Declan had gotten lost. The fact that they'd brought him back was not a consolation to Sarah. She
assumed
they'd find him.

In what condition was the question.

Fiona cantered to Sarah's wagon and dismounted, tossing her reins to one of the women in the back.

“What do you need, Fi?” Sarah called.

“Some place to lay him,” Fi said as she ran to the back of the wagon and began helping the children out of it.

Sarah wrapped the reins around the brake and jumped down from the seat. By the time she reached Fiona, Mike had arrived and was easing Declan out of Gavin's arms and onto the ground.

There was so much blood down the front of Declan it looked like his chest had exploded.

No way
, Sarah thought, as she watched Declan feebly try to sit up.
No way he'll survive this
.

Fiona was all business now. She climbed into the back of the wagon to lay out bedding. Several of the other people in the group had walked from the front of the line.

“Move back. Give him room,” Mike said. He and Gavin slid a blanket under Declan and lifted him up between them and onto the wagon. Sarah saw that Mike's shirt was nearly as bloody as Declan's. She'd hear all about it later. The woods were full of murderers and cutthroats. The wonder wasn't that one of their party was attacked but that it hadn't happened sooner.

Sarah climbed into the wagon with Fiona and pried the first aid kit out from behind the driver's seat where she'd packed it. Siobhan watched the goings on from the comforting arms of one of the compound women. Sarah knelt next to Declan and squeezed his hand.

“Hey, Dec,” she said, forcing herself not to grimace at how white he looked. He squeezed her hand in return.

“I got the bleeding stopped,” Fiona said breathlessly. “It's why it took us so long.”

Sarah peeled away the wadded up sweatshirt Fi had used for padding on Declan's chest.
The bleeding had definitely stopped, thank God. And the wound itself looked shallow enough.

“Hand me that bandage, will you?”

So why does he look like he's at death's door?

“Is this the only injury?” Sarah asked.

Fiona looked at her, her eyes showing panic.

“You think there has to be another explanation for why he looks like this?” she asked.

Sarah glanced up at Gavin where he sat on his horse. The patch across the front of his jeans where he'd held Declan was bright red.

Shit
.

Sarah slid a hand between the blanket and Declan's back. His eyes fluttered back into his head and he moaned.

“Help me move him to his side.”

“It's his front where he's hurt,” Fiona said but she pulled on Declan's arm as Sarah shifted his hip toward her.

He lay in a pool of gore.

“Oh, Sarah,” Fiona whispered. “Oh, please do something.”

“Okay, calm down,” Sarah said, her mind racing. This was well beyond her experience level.

He'd lost a lot of blood—was still losing a lot of blood—from the back wound. She reached for another wad of padding. It wasn't clean but it would have to do. She had to stop the bleeding. She'd worry about infection later. She bound the padding to his back and tied it securely with a cloth belt. Declan had passed out which Sarah hoped wasn't a bad sign. But it probably wasn't good.

“Did you talk to him?” Sarah asked.

Fiona's eyes brimmed with tears as she stared at Declan's face in repose.

“He said two men stabbed him with his own knife.”

“Just the once?”

“I…he didn't mention more than one time.”

“Okay. I want to clean it and see how bad it is but I need to wash up for that. Stay here.”

“Sarah, sure you can fix him, can't you?”

Sarah hesitated. She tried to remember a single other time when Fiona had looked or sounded this helpless. In point of fact, Fiona was usually considered the compound healer. She had an encyclopedic understanding of medicinal herbs and concoctions and kept a good supply for most occasions.

But broken bones, bullet holes and stab wounds were a whole different thing.

S
arah glanced
at Declan and then back at Fiona. What did she want her to say? A lie? What did Fiona think was going to happen when she'd backed her brother so vigorously about leaving the convent?

Is it possible she is really surprised?

“Stay with him,” Sarah said jumping down.

A
n hour later
, Sarah had cleaned Declan's wound the best she could. Fiona had some herbs in her homeopathic medicine chest for fighting infections and, even better, Sarah still had a decent supply of antibiotics. Now that the back wound had stopped bleeding, they needed to keep him quiet and hydrated until they could return to the convent. Sister Alphonse was a registered nurse.

Mike had set up camp in the middle of the road so they didn't even have to move the wagon that Declan was in. The other wagons were shifted off the road and two small campfires built at either end of the makeshift campsite. The mood in camp was somber.

It had rained early that afternoon but not long and not hard. Mike gave orders not to unpack the tents, which suited Sarah just fine. The sooner they got on the way back to the convent, the better.

Nuala O'Connell kept Fiona's little girls with her so that Fiona could stay with Declan. She would spend most of the long night trying to get beef broth and water into him, and checking his bandages and his pulse.

Sarah went to the larger campfire where she knew she'd find Mike. If there was ever a time she wanted to hear him say the words
I was wrong
, this was it.

The relief of knowing the whole mad caper was over—and had ended almost exactly as Sarah knew it would—helped ease the chronic anxiety that lived in her gut.

We're going back and that's all that matters.

When she walked up Mike stood from where he was seated by the fire.

“You look done in,” he said grimly, making room for her to sit. “Come, eat.”

Sarah looked around the campfire. Gavin and Sophia sat opposite them, their little one asleep in Sophia's arms. Several of the women they'd liberated from the rape camp last spring also sat around the fire.

“Siobhan's with Mary and Kev,” Mike said, handing Sarah a plate of roasted rabbit.

“Great,” Sarah said absently. She bit into the meat and realized she was ravenous.

“How is he?” Mike asked.

“Not good. But Sister Alphonse will know what to do.”

“Sarah…”

“How is he, Sarah?” Sophia called from across the fire. “I said a prayer for him.”

“That'll help,” Sarah said with a smile. She looked at Mike. “And on our first day out.”

“I know. It's my fault.”

He looked haggard and Sarah felt her heart soften toward him. She saw his guilt and his misery. It was true that Declan wouldn't be laying in the back of a horse wagon fighting for his life if it hadn't been for Mike's insistence that they go looking for something better. But at least Mike saw that.

“Don't blame yourself too much,” she said laying a hand on his knee. As soon as she felt his leg, firm and hard under her hand, she realized it had been a long time since they'd touched. “I'm sure Sister Alphonse can fix him up.”

“Sarah,” he said, his shoulders sagging.

She reached out to touch his face.

“We're not going back,” he said wearily.

Her hand froze.
Would he really joke at a time like this? Or had he totally lost his mind?

“Of course we're going back,” she said, edging away from him, her food forgotten. “How can you even say that?”

“Sarah…” He looked at her helplessly and then glanced at the wagon behind her with Fiona and Declan in it. “We have to go forward. There's no future for us back there.”

“Well, there might be a future for
Declan
back there,” Sarah said loudly.

“Lower your voice. Fiona's upset enough as it is.”

“You mean you don't want Fiona switching to
my
side which you know she'll do once she realizes you're crazy enough to want to go on.”

“Fiona agrees with me.”

Sarah jumped to her feet. “I don't believe it! You'd sacrifice your best friend for this obsession of yours about a stupid castle?”

“Don't be dramatic,” Mike said between gritted teeth. “Declan is his own man.” But his eyes flitted again to the wagon. Sarah saw the indecision there. The guilt.

“You know very well he isn't any more! And now look where we are!”