Wild At Heart (17 page)

Mariah lay in the dirt, her heart pounding faster than it had when she accidentally set fire to her grandma’s heirloom tablecloth. Gasping, she tried to catch her breath. Adam’s body had shielded hers, but her side ached from landing on his arm. Hopefully it hadn’t been his injured one.

Bullets pinged against the boulder shielding her and Adam from the shooter. Mariah lay perfectly still. One late night at finishing school when the girls were telling stories instead of sleeping, Sarah Jane Carson had whispered across the beds, “If anybody ever shoots at me, I’m playing dead. That way they’ll quit shooting and leave.” Mariah’s heroine in her first dime novel had done the same thing, but now Mariah realized what a foolish notion that was. Playing dead wouldn’t dissuade a man with a gun intent on killing someone.

“Mariah,” Adam whispered. “Sweetheart, are you all right?”

Her heart thumped even faster at the endearment. Moving carefully to keep her body behind the boulder, she sat up and dusted her hands. “I–I’m fine.”

“Thank God.”

She pushed up from the ground, her head spinning as her eyes struggled to focus. Perhaps she’d been knocked out and hadn’t realized it. She spat dirt from her mouth and wiped it off her lips with her fingers.

Adam grabbed her arm and pulled her against the warm boulder. “Keep down and stay close to me.”

He peered over the rock, fired once, then ducked back down. He gave her a once-over then plucked a stem of grass from her hair and brushed the dust off her shoulder. His concerned smile made her want to lunge into his arms and cling to him, but she sat still.

“My rifle is with Chief, but he’s gone. I don’t have much ammo left.” He twirled the chamber of his pistol.

Mariah’s mouth went dry. Before the ambush, she’d been worrying about leaving Adam and going home, but now she might never make it that far.

Adam rubbed his gunshot wound. Had he reinjured it in the fall?

She scooted closer, looping her arm around his and laying her head on his shoulder for a moment. He patted her back.

“Don’t worry. Someone will see Chief or Sugar soon and come looking for us.”

She wondered if they could hold off their attackers that long. Loosening her hold, she looked around for something she could use as a weapon. She thought about her heroines and wondered what they’d do in such a situation.

The attackers resumed firing. Mariah jumped. What did she know about being brave? She was just a city gal from Chicago who made up stories about valiant men and women. Tears blurred her eyes at the thought of her grandmother suffering when she learned Mariah was injured or killed.

Adam peeked up and fired. He ducked down again and checked the chamber. “Four more shots.” Leaning to the right, he scanned the trail.

Mariah hoped help would come in time. She’d been such a fool to not take the man’s threat more seriously when he assaulted her. Turning to the side so Adam wouldn’t see, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. If she were going to die, there were two things she wanted to do. She’d just opened her mouth to tell Adam who she was when the firing started.

Once again, she’d failed.

But more importantly, if this was her last day on earth, she wanted Christ to come into her heart.
Just ask.
It still seemed too easy, but now wasn’t the time to argue. She glanced heavenward as Adam fired another shot.

God, if what Adam and the others say is true, then please come into my heart. Forgive me of my sins and for my stubborn ways. I believe Jesus is Your Son, sent to save me from my sinful ways. Please watch over us, and send help in time.

“Got one!” Adam slid down beside her. “There’s only one left.”

“Bullets or men?”

Adam grimaced. “Both.”

“Don’t you think someone will hear the gunfire?”

He shrugged. “They’ll probably think that we’re still shooting targets.”

She lowered her head and fiddled with the dirty lace edging of her blouse. It looked as if they might not make it out of this, but inside, she felt lighter. Perhaps God would give her the courage she needed in her last hour.

“Hey, don’t give up yet.” He lifted her chin and traced her cheek with his finger then rubbed his arm. “I’m not good with words. I wish I could draw you a picture to show you how I feel about you.”

She couldn’t help wondering what that drawing would look like. Would the love she saw in Adam’s eyes show forth in his artwork?

“You’re very talented. No matter what happens, I hope you’ll keep drawing.”

“I’d like you to have one of my sketches—once we get out of this, uh… predicament.” His melancholy smile tugged at her heart. He peered over the boulder again. “The man I shot hasn’t moved, but I can’t see the other one.”

“Adam, there is something I need to tell you. I’m not who you think I am.”

He darted a gaze at her but went right back to keeping watch. “Let it wait. I need to keep my attention focused right now.”

Mariah hung her head. How many times had she debated telling him—tried to tell him?

As much as she longed to have the news of her identity off her chest, she feared Adam would feel lied to. Would he still care after she told him?

The tone of Mariah’s words scared him. Sweat trickled down his temple, and he swiped it against his arm. What did she mean she wasn’t who he thought?

Adam could hear the gunman calling to his partner, but he couldn’t see him. And he wasn’t sure if he’d killed the downed man or just winged him.

He despised killing. As an artist, he longed to show people the beauty of God’s creation, not the dark side. But both were part of the world. If not for the dark things of life, many people would never realize their need for God. When troubles come, many people turn to God. But sometimes they let their problems stand between them and their God.

That’s what he had done.

But no more.

One more shot—that’s all he had. But no matter what, he couldn’t let that man get Mariah. He’d die before letting that happen.

Lord, You reckon You could help us out here?

Pebbles dug into his knees, and his arm ached. Mariah sat next to him, her head resting against her knees. He wanted to believe she was praying. She’d asked enough questions about God and the Bible the past few days to fill a book.

God, please don’t let her die without giving her heart to You.

He thought of his mother. Thought of Anna and Quinn. He should have told them his dreams instead of worrying about their reaction. Even though the ranch was Quinn’s, he would have encouraged Adam in following his own dream. Adam had shortchanged them both because of his own feelings of guilt and inadequacy. Having renewed his heart with God made him see how he’d been living under the shadow of guilt for far too long.

“Hey, McFarland. You ain’t getting out of here. I’ve got plans for that pretty city gal.”

Mariah gasped. “It’s him. The train robber.”

Adam recognized the man’s gravelly voice, too. Since the man had most likely broken out of jail last night, the sheriff would be looking for him—and the sheriff would probably come straight to the Rocking M—unless he was dead.

“I know y’all’s been doing some shooting practice and gotta be low on ammo.”

Adam’s skin crawled. They’d been watching? Why hadn’t they attacked back then instead of waiting?

Because this was the perfect spot for an ambush. If he hadn’t acted so quickly and fallen to the ground just when they had, he and Mariah would have been exposed without any place to hide. This boulder was the only thing big enough on this side of the trail to hide behind within a hundred yards.

And yet the outlaws had lots of cover—and water. With the creek behind them, the outlaws could far outlast him and Mariah. The sun crept overhead. Soon it would shine on them, making them hotter and thirstier. How long could Mariah hold out without water?

C’mon, Quinn. Hank. Anybody.

He hunkered down as the outlaw fired off another volley of shots. A shuffling of running footsteps moved his way. Adam peered at the train robber, who dodged behind a tree. He was making his move—getting closer.

The man’s evil chortle sent shivers up Adam’s spine.

“What’s he doing?” Mariah rose up to get a look, but Adam shoved her back to the ground.

“Stay down. He’s trying to get closer.”

The trunk didn’t totally cover the man’s body, but Adam wasn’t willing to risk using his last bullet for less than a sure shot.

The vile laughter came again. “I’m guessin’ you’re out of bullets or you’d be shooting at me. Gonna have to kill you, McFarland, for shooting my little brother.”

“What’s that?” Mariah leaned sideways. “Oh, look!”

The sound of horses’ hooves was music to Adam’s ears. Help was near.

The train robber muttered a curse and ran toward his horse. Adam stood, knowing he’d get one chance to stop the man. Mariah wouldn’t be safe with him on the loose.

He fired.

The man lurched and fell. Adam darted toward him.

“Adam, no. Wait.” Mariah’s cries echoed behind him.

Though shot in the leg, the outlaw stood and hobbled for his horse. Adam ran after him, his mouth dry. The man lifted his gun and fired again. Adam dove for the dirt.

The outlaw cursed and raised his pistol. Adam knew he was done for.

The empty chamber of the gun clicked. The thief threw it away and lunged at Adam. The weight of the bigger man’s body landed hard on Adam’s. They struggled, grunting and throwing punches. Adam swung his fist at the man’s jaw. Pain spiraled through his hand.

The outlaw seized Adam’s wounded arm. Adam cried out. The man grinned and threw a punch right in the same arm, as if remembering the gunshot wound. Blackness swirled, sucking Adam under, but he fought back.

He forced his eyes open. The outlaw blurred from one to two. A sickening grin twisted the man’s features. Adam looked over the outlaw’s head to see the rock he held. The man leaned his arms backward, readying to strike. Adam lifted his left arm to block the blow.

Suddenly, Adam saw a shadow and heard a
thud.
The rock fell behind the outlaw. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he fell backward. Wielding his own pistol like a club, Mariah came into focus. She turned concerned eyes on him.

“Are you all right?” She knelt beside him. “You saved us, you know?”

Four horses skid to a halt, slinging dust and pebbles. Mariah sneezed and squeezed his hand. “It’s over, Adam. How badly are you hurt?”

“Woo-wee, did you see that little lady club that man?”

Adam recognized his ranch hand’s voice as he laid his head back down, thanking God for sending help in time. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll be fine.”

“What happened here?”

Adam opened his eyes, unable to ignore Quinn. Mariah patted his chest and looked up.

“Those men attacked us. That one”—she pointed to the man she’d just knocked out—“he’s the train robber who shot Adam. The other man is the one who accosted me in town.”

For once Adam was relieved that Quinn took over, barking orders and making sure the outlaws were tied up and on their way back to jail. Relief washed over him to learn the other outlaw was unconscious and not dead.

After a few minutes, Adam allowed Mariah to help him sit up. His arm still throbbed and his knuckles were swelling, but the rest of him wasn’t in too bad of shape.

“Here, drink this.” Mariah lifted a canteen to his mouth, and he drank fully, grateful for the cool water.

He offered it to her, and she, too, had her fill. Then she pulled out her handkerchief and dabbed her mouth. He’d love to place a kiss on those pretty lips, but that would have to wait until they were alone. But he wouldn’t wait long—wouldn’t make the mistake he had before in not telling her how he felt.

He’d come close to losing her today, and he was so thankful to God for second chances.

Mariah walked over to Chief and patted his nose. “You’re such a good boy, going home and getting help for us.”

She kissed Chief’s muzzle, bringing a smile to Adam’s lips and making him not a little envious of his horse.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he thought about how Mariah had risked her own life to save him. She bravely, without hesitation, knocked out the outlaw who was bent on sending him to his Maker.

Adam swallowed. Perhaps Drew Dixon was right. Maybe women do save the day.

Once in a while.

Mariah stood at the parlor window watching for Adam. In spite of her objections and Quinn’s, he’d insisted that he go to town to give a report to the sheriff about the ambush. She worried about his arm. When the train robber had clutched it, Adam’s handsome face had contorted in pain. Anger had surged through her, and all she wanted was to help him, even if it meant rendering the outlaw unconscious.

“Feeling better?” Anna stopped beside her and handed her some water.

She nodded and accepted the glass. “Yes, a bath works wonders.”

“I may enjoy working with the horses and even the cattle some, but I do relish a nice, warm bath. Leyna’s fixing bratwurst. I’m going to see if she needs help. You stay here and wait for Adam. I’m sure he’ll want to see you as soon as he returns.” With a saucy grin and a giggle, she sauntered out of the parlor.