Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
The worry clawing at his chest died the instant Violet threw herself at him and kissed him. Her desperation seemed to match his own, and he forgot they weren’t alone and pulled her into his body, angling his head to kiss her back as if no one was watching.
The feel of her in his arms seemed to calm the panic he’d been trying to fight. Since the first gunshot went off, and that bullet hit the wall beside their heads, he’d been fighting to keep calm.
He’d already been furious at the thought of Edwin grabbing her face hard enough to bruise, but hearing her yell his name while a few idiots at the saloon took their fight to the street left him half mad with overwhelming anxiety.
Getting her to safety had been his only concern.
Now that he knew she was safe, his only thought was making sure she’d never be put into harm’s way again.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to let her out of his sight after this.
Fear, unlike any he’d felt in years, made his chest ache to the point it felt like his heart was ready to explode and it wasn’t only the gunfight that caused it.
It was Violet, and the knowledge he could lose her without even really knowing her.
He’d pushed her away time and time again and she was still there, invading his every waking thought and fool that he was, he knew she was so far under his skin now, he’d never get her out.
Was what he felt for her some form of love? Possibly, but he wasn’t going to put a label on it. Not yet. He couldn’t. He had his own heart to protect. He’d had it torn out once. He wasn’t ready to do it again.
Noise from the others in the room finally registered, and he broke the kiss and looked over Violet’s head.
Everyone present was watching them. He cleared his throat and took a step away from Violet, dropping his arms to his side.
“It’s safe to leave now,” he told them. “The sheriff has everything under control.”
The women, children, and the few men who had been hiding there for safety slowly left, their murmuring voices a soft echo in the small space.
Violet was still looking at him when he turned his attention back to her.
The look in her eyes made something in his chest clench tight.
Everything she was feeling was right there on her face to see.
She cared about him. Despite him trying to push her away, her grandfather was right.
She had feelings for him and damn his soul, he had to admit, if only to himself, he cared about her as well.
“What happened?”
Her voice seemed to break whatever spell had them standing there staring at each other.
He shifted on his feet and looked toward the front of the store they were standing in.
It was a dress shop, if he had to guess.
There were ribbons and bows hanging on wooden dowels suspended from the ceiling, and all sorts of lace and sateen fabrics were stacked high on display racks.
There was glass on the floor from a broken window. A stray bullet must have hit it. Luckily, Violet had been in the back store room away from the danger when it had.
“Just some drunks trying to settle a gambling dispute down at the saloon,” he finally answered her. “The sheriff has them in custody.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“Not that I could tell.”
She nodded and let out a breath. He motioned her toward the front of the store and he followed when she headed back out onto the sidewalk. They both stopped and stared at those still lingering by the saloon.
As shoot outs went, this one was pretty clean. No one died, which was always a plus.
Commotion from the hotel drew their attention. There were several men on the sidewalk looking into the restaurant. The window had been shot out there as well.
Violet sucked in a sharp breath. “We forgot Bonnie’s food.”
Josiah looked at his watch. It was close to noon now. “It’s nearly lunch time. Let’s head over and check on her and Archie first, and I’ll go back to the restaurant and grab her something.”
Archie was awake when they let themselves into the doctor's office. He still looked feverish, but smiled when he saw them.
Bonnie had that wide-eyed look of someone starting to fear the sound of gunfire. He couldn’t say he blamed her. It took a bit getting used to and as small as Silver Falls was, there wasn’t much shooting going on in town there. Well, other than when Archie was shot.
Bonnie stood when he shut the door behind them and said, “What happened out there?”
Violet told her everything that went down and he filled in any blanks in her story. The doctor came in midway through the telling, and after a few questions about Archie’s well being, and a few from Violet about when Archie would be all right to travel, he left them alone.
“I guess I need to put an ad in the paper about a new doctor for Silver Falls while I’m here. With Doc Tibbens not being able to do much anymore, we need a new doctor. It isn’t convenient to run to Elkin every time someone has something more serious than a cold.”
Bonnie nodded. “Doc Tibbens is getting up there in age.”
“He is,” Violet agreed. “Are you still hungry, Bonnie? The shooting happened right after we left the restaurant and—”
“—No, I’m fine,” she said, cutting Violet off. “The doctor's wife actually brought in something for us not long after you left earlier.”
“Oh, well, that’s good.”
They talked for a few more minutes before they said their goodbyes and headed back outside.
“So, what now?” Violet asked.
Josiah looked toward the sky. It was well past noon. If they left now, they’d not make it back by dark, and he hated trying to maneuver a wagon after the sun went down. “It’s too late to try to pull the wagon back home today, but we can rent a few horses and probably make it by nightfall.”
“What about the preacher?”
The preacher? Damn. He’d forgotten all about him. That had been his number one priority after getting Archie seen to. How could he have forgotten already?
Because he’s no longer a priority.
“Right.” He looked down the street both ways as if the man was going to pop around the next corner. “I think he may be a lost cause. Besides, the sheriff said there hadn’t been anything filed in his office, so I’m not sure searching for him will produce anything.”
“What does that mean?”
“What does what mean?”
“The sheriff saying nothing was filed. Does that mean we’re not legally married? Or just that the paperwork hasn’t been filed yet?”
He blew out a breath and wiped his hand over his face. “I have no idea.”
She stared at him a few seconds before turning and walking down the sidewalk toward the small newspaper office in town.
He stood by the door when she went in and placed the ad for a new doctor in Silver Falls.
Hopefully, it wouldn’t take too long to find a replacement for Doc Tibbens.
Lord knew the man wasn’t able to do much with his health getting worse by the day.
They headed toward the hotel when she was finished. He followed her without another word and tried to distract himself from the swish of her hips by wondering what she was thinking. She hadn’t said much of anything after their brief conversation about the marriage license and the missing reverend.
He shut their hotel room door, giving it a hard push when the bottom corner tried to catch. Violet’s audible gasp made him turn. “What?”
“Your back.” Her eyes were wide, her mouth gaped open. She was hurrying across the room before what she said fully registered. When she touched his back, he winced.
“Your shirt is ripped and there’s blood.”
He tried looking over his shoulder but couldn’t see much. He did remember something happening to his back, but hadn’t thought much about it. He’d been crouched down near the wall when it happened. “I think it was a nail. I was next to one of the stores and felt something scrape across my back.”
Violet was pulling at his shirt, but stopped to look up at him. “Take your shirt off.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, but the look on her face said she wasn’t taking no for an answer. He did as she asked and took the shirt off, her eyes widening when she got a good look at his back.
“Josiah,” she screeched. “This isn’t a scratch from a nail! You’ve been shot!”
“What?”
Violet ran a finger across his back from one side to the other, just underneath where his flesh was torn. “The skin is open all the way across your back, Josiah.”
“Huh. It must have been a wild shot,” he said. “I felt the sting but didn’t think it was a bullet. I just assumed it was a nail or splinter from the building I was leaning against.”
Her heart was racing as she looked at the bloody trail across his back.
It had to have hurt worse than a nail scratch or a splinter, but she knew how adrenaline worked.
It could numb you from almost any type of pain.
“Well, that's no nail or splinter scratch. It's too wide and there’s too much blood. You were grazed by a bullet.”
She turned and walked across the room to the small dressing cabinet.
There wasn’t much water left in the pitcher, but poured what remained into the bowl before grabbing one of the washcloths the hotel provided.
Meeting his gaze, she motioned to one of the chairs at the table by the window.
“Come sit down and let me clean it for you.”
He strolled across the room in that loose-hipped way he walked and the clomp of his boots hitting the wooden floor wasn’t enough to distract her from the fact he’d been shot.
In a drunken bar brawl, more or less, and a few inches over, and that bullet would have done major damage.
As it was, there was only a deep scratch that would heal with time.