He heard a girl’s gasp. “What happened, Ma?”
“Let me see. I want to see,” cried a little voice much too young to see so much blood.
“Keep him back, Alice,” said Beth.
They were all safe. All accounted for. Nobody he cared about was going to die today, except himself, of course. He had prayed for death during the war. Each day, each night, he’d prayed not to have to do it one more day. Not to have to watch his men die. And then he didn’t pray at all.
He forced his eyes open. Keeping Lorelei safe had been his first prayer in a long time, and the first one God had ever answered. He tried to smile at her. Her blue eyes shone bright with tears. They were bluer than the sky haloed around her head. Ah, Lorelei, don’t cry, he wanted to say, but all he managed to do was lick his dry lips and sigh. But she was safe. She would have a life safe from him.
He let his eyes drift shut, let the darkness in, let the pain overwhelm him until there was no pain at all. His luck had finally changed.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Lorelei wished they wouldn’t stop. A doctor should have been brought to the wounded man, not the other way around. The dust the posse kicked up was enough to choke Lorelei. She hated to think of what the red cloud did to Christopher.
She wiped the mixture of sweat and grit from his brow, then checked the bandage. Blood dotted the white cotton strip in a faint red oval, but didn’t soak through the first layer. Though his bleeding had slowed, it was still a miracle he hung on to life at all. He’d lost more blood than she considered humanly possible. Moving him to Arriba was insanity.
Yet since Garrett Douglas, the federally appointed United States marshal of the New Mexico territory, had ridden onto Jay’s farm with his posse of men, his word had become all-powerful. Her twenty-four-hour vigilance at Christopher’s bedside, her efforts to keep him alive using every means at her disposal including sheer force of will, mattered not. Marshal Douglas had decided Christopher needed a good doctor. An eastern doctor.
After a one way argument, Douglas only pretending to consider Lorelei’s opinion, Arriba became their destination. Though there were no doctors in Arriba, Douglas reasoned they could telegraph a decent doctor in Santa Fe.
“How’s he doing?” Douglas stood at the back of the wagon.
“His fever won’t break. The water from Jay’s well might have cooled him off,” she said more rudely than she meant.
Unfortunately, Marshal Douglas didn’t appear put off. He climbed into the wagon’s bed and crawled across the planks, ducking his head beneath the canvas they’d stretched across the buckboard’s sides. He paused to check the thickness of the mattress that swallowed most of the wagon’s space.
“Do you think he’s comfortable enough?”
The fear in the man’s voice deepened it. That he was uncomfortable seeing Christopher so helpless showed in the nervous dart of his gaze. They had been friends since they were boys, she had heard him say. She didn’t have an exclusive on loving Christopher Braddock.
“The traveling is taking its toll. I’ll just be glad to get him to Arriba.”
“And into the hands of a qualified physician.”
Lorelei stiffened but dropped her gaze and said nothing. Didn’t they know she would walk across fire to see Christopher recover? Even give her own life. She didn’t see how a doctor could do more.
“I’m sorry, Miss…” He hesitated.
“Sullivan.” She glanced up. He didn’t even know who she was, much less that she would be Christopher’s wife. Nor could she tell him. The promise she’d made to Christopher the last night they had been together prevented that.
“You’re Corey Sullivan’s sister.” He studied her with cool brown eyes.
She wondered if he had truly forgotten her name or had just been trying to trick her. Suddenly she felt like she was being questioned.
“Yes. That’s right.”
His sharp features softened. The look of suspicion eased. “Sorry again. I can’t remember the last time I slept. I’m too used to interrogating people.”
He ran his hand over his stubbled chin. “I’m grateful for all you’ve done for Chris. His parents will be grateful, too. They’re very wealthy.”
“I don’t want a reward,” she said too sharply. She hadn’t known Christopher’s parents were wealthy. Discovering that his father was a United States senator had been even more of a shock. Why hadn’t Christopher mentioned any of this to her? For some reason she had assumed his parents were dead. That he was as alone as she.
“You deserve a reward. You have to be exhausted. Why don’t you climb down and stretch your legs?”