Chapter Thirty-One
The shot rang out like thunder, loud and sudden. Pain flared white through Weston’s shoulder, dropping him to the ground before he was able to do anything else. He felt the way his breath was knocked clean from his chest. His right hand clawed at the earth, as his left gripped the warm wound.
“Nora!” he gasped, forcing himself to lift his head. “Take her…Take her and run!”
Mary Jane was screaming. He couldn’t see her, but he could clearly hear her. Her cry was high-pitched and terrified, calling Nora’s name over and over.
Nora dropped beside him. “Weston…”
“Go!” Weston tried to shove her away, but his arm was useless. The joint burned and throbbed, like it wasn’t part of him anymore.
“I’m not leaving you,” she hissed “Did you hear me? I’m not leaving you!”
Her hands were on him, tugging at his shirt, trying to see the damage, as he slowly put his right hand on the ground. He heard himself groan; it was a pitiful sound that escaped without permission. Stay strong, Crane. Be a man and stay strong.
He instinctively looked at his wound. Blood poured fast between Nora’s fingers, soaking through the fabric.
What had started as a dark bloom beneath his collarbone was now crawling across his chest, reaching the hem of his shirt like a spill across the floorboards.
The cotton clung to his skin, turning the pale fabric to rust. Every breath seemed to push more of it out.
It felt warm at first, then it started cooling once the wind hit.
He could feel it running down his side now, slipping into the waistband of his trousers, seeping into the dirt beneath him. The smell of it…it was metallic, thick, and too sharp in his nose. He knew what it meant. Don’t think about it now, Crane. Save them first.
But Nora didn’t seem like she was going anywhere. Her hands kept pressing hard into the wound. Her apron was red now, too, soaked through to her knuckles. “Mary Jane!” she called out. “Get inside the barn! Lock the door!”
“I don’t want to go there alone!” the little girl gasped. Weston had never seen her cry this much and it felt like her cries hurt more than anything else at this moment. “I don’t—“
“Well, ain’t this touching,” Nash’s voice cut in, laced with mockery.
Weston’s head turned him. Colter was still holding his rifle slung casually across his arm, as the fire behind him made his silhouette burn like a devil.
“I didn’t ride all the way out here for some foolish family drama,” Nash called down. “You think I came to watch a widow cry over a dying man? But I must admit…if the situation wasn’t this bad, you could’ve sold tickets.”
His grin curled at the corners, the same grin Weston had seen when he first saw this man. Snake smile, rotten straight through.
“I came to end this,” Nash said, lifting his rifle to his shoulder. “So here’s how it goes. He dies”—he looked to Nora—“you come with me, and the girl grows up quietly and gratefully. I’d say it’s a pretty good deal, don’t you think?”
Trembling, Nora started to rise. “I’d rather burn before I go anywhere with you,” she said. Weston could hear her voice shaking with fury. “You hear me, Colter? I’d rather die right here, with him, than make a single step with you.”
“Don’t you move,” he barked. “Both of you…stay right there.”
Just then, Nash took aim again, right at Weston’s chest. Weston braced for the shot. He wanted to move, to shield her, to shove her behind him, to do something, anything…but his body wouldn’t answer. His arm lay heavy and numb at his side, as well as the rest of his body.
He turned his head and looked at Nora. Her hands were still pressed against his wound. Her eyes were burning like she could fight off the whole world, but also…she was scared.
He wanted to tell her that he was sorry, that he would’ve married her twice over if he could. That she was the only light he’d known in his lonely, dark life. Unfortunately, the words wouldn’t come. So he looked at her and hoped she could see everything left unsaid right here, in his eyes.
Then he closed them. Lord, if You’re listening…let it be fast. Don’t let her suffer by watching me die. Don’t let the girl watch me die. And if You can, if there’s still mercy left in You…take care of them once I’m gone.
He breathed in, and waited for the crack of the gun.
Just then, Western heard something. At first, the sound was so faint he thought it was in his head, like a dull, rhythmic pounding. But it soon grew louder.
Nash’s head snapped toward the noise, with his finger still hovering at the trigger. “What the…?” he muttered.
It was coming from the edge of the eastern tree line. Riders, two, maybe three of them. He wasn’t sure, but they came fast, closing in on the yard with rigid determination.
Weston didn’t know who it was. But it can’t be Colter’s men. He looks as surprised as I am.
Through the drifting smoke and flickering light of the fire behind them, shapes emerged blurred, backlit by the flames chewing through what was left of the house.
It can’t be…Cade?
Riding hard at the front, there he was, as the fire threw macabre light across his face. Behind him came two more riders, with their weapons already drawn, and their shouts breaking through the crackle of burning timber.
“Drop the gun, Colter!” Cade roared. “Now!”
Nash froze for half a second, then turned around. His rifle was still raised. Weston thought he might do it, pull the trigger in desperation, try to finish what he started, but instead, he bolted, turned on his heel, and started sprinting toward his horse as the flames flared brighter behind them.
However, he didn’t make it far. One of Cade’s men slammed into him from the side, driving him into the dirt. The rifle flew from Nash’s grip, skidding across the yard. Another man leapt down and grabbed him, twisting his arms behind his back and shoving his face into the ground.
“Let me go!” Colter insisted. “This isn’t over, you sons of—”
A knee dropped to his back, and he stopped moving. Weston blinked through the smoke. The fire painted everything in shades of red and black. Heat washed over him in waves. He could taste ash in the back of his throat.
But through all the pain and chaos, he saw Nora, still crouched beside him, with blood on her hands, with her hair tangled, and her eyes locked on Cade and the men holding Colter down. The fire lit her like a flame itself.
Weston felt his body finally begin to let go in relief. The panic that had gripped his chest loosened, and in its place came a weightless kind of knowing. My girls are safe.
However, the sounds around him started warping. They were now muffled and strange, like they were coming from underwater. Voices blurred. The crackle of fire became a distant roar. Cade’s shouting, Mary Jane crying somewhere behind him, all of it drifted to the edges of his mind.
But Nora…her voice kept cutting through the haze. “Weston?” she cried. “Weston, can you hear me, Weston? Please, stay with me. Stay with me!”
He wanted to answer. Just a word, at least say her name. But his mouth wouldn’t move right. His body didn’t feel like his anymore. Everything was too heavy, like the ground was pulling him down into it.
The heat of the fire mixed with the cold creeping into his limbs. He felt Nora’s hands pressing hard into his chest, trying to stop the bleeding. Her dress—or what was left of it—was soaked through and sticky against his skin.
He thought he should be in pain, that burning kind of pain that makes a man grit his teeth. But somehow, it was dull now, like someone had cut the edges off it. His thoughts moved slowly, scattered like dropped pearls on the floor. Is this…it? No. This can’t be it…it can’t be.
He turned his head slightly, just enough to see her. Nora looked like something from a dream. Her face was streaked with ash, and her eyes were wild with fear, while her hair glowed orange at the edges from the firelight.
“Still here,” he mumbled, barely hearing his own voice. “Ain’t gone yet.”
“Don’t you dare,” she whispered, choking on the words. “Don’t you dare leave me, Weston Crane.”
He wanted to tell her not to cry, that he was trying, that he heard her the first time she called his name. But everything blurred, her face, the flames, even the black sky above them.
What remained was her voice, and nothing else. “Stay with me, Weston,” she whispered between her sobs. “Weston, please…please, stay.”
He tried to hold onto that sound. Somewhere just beyond the dark, he heard boots crunching through the scorched grass. “Is he still breathing?” he could hear Cade asking urgently.
“Barely,” Nora answered in desperation. Weston felt her hands move. She gently brushed the hair from his forehead.
“He needs a doctor, now,” Cade said. “The saddle’s ready. ”
“Can we take him on a wagon?” Nora asked. “I don’t think he can ride.”
Just then, Weston dragged in a breath. Unbearable pain bit down on him again. But he heard them. He forced his eyes open. Firelight swam across the sky. Cade’s silhouette hovered above him. When he turned his head, Nora was kneeling beside him.
Weston coughed, losing that little air he had, but he grit his teeth and nodded. “Let’s go,” he said with a determined sigh.
Cade didn’t waste a second. “All right,” he said. “Easy now.”
Cade’s arms hooked under Weston’s good shoulder. The world tilted sharply as he and Nora lifted him. Agony tore through his side, white-hot and merciless. His legs buckled beneath him, but Nora was there, arms around his waist, holding him upright.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered.
Weston gritted his teeth, swallowing the groan clawing up his throat. Then he turned his head just enough to find her face. “Stay,” he rasped, “with Mary Jane. Don’t let her be alone.”
Nora shook her head, her eyes shining with tears. “No, I’m going with you. I won’t—“
“She needs you,” he said, each word costing more life in him than the last. “I’ll be fine.”
“You’re not—” her voice broke. “You’re not fine, Weston.”
“He’ll be safe with me,” Cade interfered, helping him get on the horse. “I swear.”
Nora helped guide Weston’s foot into the stirrup, then braced him as Cade and another man lifted him into the saddle. His head swam. The world dimmed again at the edges.
Weston’s knees nearly gave again, but he sat upright in his saddle, just long enough to meet Nora’s eyes. “I’ll come back,” he said. “I promise.”
The horses slowly started moving. Weston felt the sway of muscle and hoofbeats pounding through the earth beneath him. Cade rode close beside him with one hand steady on the reins, while the other one kept reaching out every now and then, to keep Weston from sliding sideways.
“Easy now,” Cade said. “That’s it. You’ve got this, Crane.”
The wind stung his face, filled with smoke and dust. His shoulder throbbed with every jolt, every heartbeat. His hands were clenched on the saddle horn, and he felt his fingers slicked with blood.
The world tilted in and out. Time unraveled. He couldn’t tell how long they’d been riding. Minutes? Miles? It all blurred. He forced his head up and stared ahead, willing himself not to fall.
“You still with me?” Cade called over the wind.
Weston tried to turn his head but didn’t have the strength to do so. “Yeah,” he said, as loudly as he could.
“You’re gonna make it,” Cade said, sounding like he really meant those words. “Just hold on.”
Weston almost forgot Cade was on duty. There was no badge in his voice now, just grit and care. This ride didn’t feel like a sheriff hauling a man to help. It felt like riding with a friend.
Just then, Weston heard more hooves somewhere behind them. It can’t be… did he get away? Again? Soon, someone called his name.
“Weston!”
Nora was riding hard to catch them with her hair tangled by wind, and her skirts dark with blood and soot. She pulled up alongside Cade, breathless and concerned.
“I left Mary Jane with Sadie and June,” she said quickly. “They showed up moments after you left.”
Weston tried to speak, but Nora didn’t let him begin. “I told you…I’m not letting you do this alone,” she whispered. “And please, don’t worry about her. She’s safe with them. Sadie and June won’t let her out of their sight.” She put her hand on his leg, grounding him like only she could.
Cade gave a sharp nod. “Good,” he said. “Then we ride. Let’s move.”
They pressed on. Every move jarred Weston’s body like a blow.
The pain burned like coals under his ribs, seeping deeper the longer he stayed upright.
His vision started blurring again at the edges, but he stayed.
He stayed for her, for the girl, and for everything they’d already fought for all this time.
The dark rolled past them, but somewhere ahead, he soon saw a faint glow, like a lantern swaying behind glass.
“We’re here,” Nora said, with her breath caught in her throat.
“That’s right,” Cade agreed. “We’re almost there.” He then put his hand on Weston’s good shoulder, and shook it just enough to keep him tethered. “Just stay with us, Crane. That’s all you need to do. Stay with us. You hear? We’re almost there.”
Weston blinked hard, forcing his eyes to stay open. The shadows ahead began to change and soon, the doctor’s office came into view. It sat at the edge of town like a promise. Its windows were glowing soft and gold like fireflies in the dark. He focused on the light. Almost there. Almost—
All of a sudden, the world reeled sideways. Weston felt himself slipping from his saddle. Nora’s voice called his name. And just like that, the world went quiet.