Chapter 3
Lottie stuck the barrel of her rifle out the window. She stiffened and waited for the shot that usually rang out whenever she made any movement.
Only silence met her—the same silence that had fallen over the ranch since the gun battle that had raged a short while ago.
It had been a strange fight without any shots directed her way.
From what she’d been able to tell, Vinnie and his men had been exchanging gunfire with someone else. But she still didn’t know who.
She hadn’t felt safe enough yet to stand up and peer out the window to observe for herself what had taken place. Just because there was a lull in the shooting didn’t mean it was over.
Enrique had also put his gun out the window, and no one had shot at him either. “I think they’re gone,” he signed.
The house was growing dark with the shadows of evening, but she could still see Enrique enough to understand what he was communicating.
“I will check.” He started to stand without waiting for her response.
“No.” She shook her head, but he wasn’t looking at her.
Instead, he crept to the side of the window and glanced outside. Again, no shots rang out.
Maybe Enrique was right that Vinnie and his men had gone home.
But what if that person—or new group of men—happened to be more dangerous than Vinnie?
She wasn’t na?ve enough to think her troubles would go away once Vinnie finally learned that he wouldn’t be able to coerce her into giving him the ranch.
Enrique surveyed the landscape, then he moved away from the window and flattened himself against the wall. “A rider is coming,” he signed.
She crouched low again. “Only one?” she motioned.
He nodded.
The thud of a horse echoed in the quiet, drawing closer to the house. A moment later, the horse and rider came to a halt in front of the house.
Neither she nor Enrique moved. Instead, they waited for the newcomer to call out to them or to at least identify himself.
Once again, however, the stillness was eerie.
After the shooting that had just taken place, this visitor surely didn’t expect them to open the door and step out. Not without some sort of exchange.
As long seconds dragged on, all that came from outside was the nervous whinny of the horse.
Finally, Lottie crept toward the door. When she reached it, she didn’t open it. Instead, she leaned against it. “Who are you, and what do you want?”
It was obvious now that Vinnie was long gone. Was this lone person responsible for driving her neighbor away?
She waited for some explanation, but the only sound was soft snorting from the horse.
“Listen,” she called. “You need to tell me who you are and why you’re here.”
More seconds ticked by.
She glanced at Enrique and motioned, “What should we do?”
“I’ll go out,” he signed.
She shook her head. “I will.”
Then, without giving her old ranch hand the chance to protest, she hefted her rifle up and opened the door. Bracing herself for danger, she immediately pointed the rifle at the rider atop the horse.
It was a man, and he was slumped over, face against the horse’s mane.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
The fellow remained motionless.
The horse shifted a step closer to the door, its ears flickering and tail swishing.
Lottie could sense Enrique behind her. He’d obviously hurried after her, knowing he couldn’t stop her but not wanting her to face the newcomer alone.
“Mister?” She glimpsed the bright crimson of blood smeared into the horse’s hair. Was the horse injured? Had it been shot?
Carefully, she scanned the creature and didn’t notice any wounds.
She examined the man next. From his boots, hat, and denim trousers with chaps, she could see he was a cowboy. He was bulky and muscular and rugged.
Maybe he was the one who was injured and bleeding onto the horse.
She knew she shouldn’t approach him all the way, that doing so was asking for trouble. But if he was hurt, she needed to find out.
With the barrel of her rifle, she pressed against his arm.
He groaned and shifted just a little. It was enough for her to view his upper arm and the dark red staining his shirt.
“Have you been shot?” she asked.
He nodded, then lifted his opposite arm. The horse’s reins, which were wrapped around that arm, fell away. A second later, he started to slide from his saddle.
She grabbed onto him, but the weight of him was too heavy. As he dropped down onto her, she felt herself sinking.
Enrique bolted to her side and took hold of the injured cowboy too. Together, they managed to lower him slowly until his feet touched the ground. When he seemed steady, she released him and took a step back. So did Enrique.
She noticed several things about the stranger all at once. The first was that he’d lost a lot of blood and his shirt was saturated. The second was that he was weak and wouldn’t be a threat to her—at least at the moment.
The final thing she noticed was that he was a very good-looking man. He had strong features, deep-set brown eyes, perfectly proportioned eyebrows, a handsome nose, and a chiseled chin and jaw. His face was covered in a thick layer of brown scruff that matched the brown of his hair.
As he attempted to straighten, he grimaced. “Jameson Noble, ma’am,” he managed in a weak voice. “I’d be obliged . . .” His eyes closed and he tottered. In the next instant, he collapsed.
She lunged for him at the same time that Enrique did, managing to grasp him before he hit the ground.
His eyes were closed, and his breathing was labored. He wasn’t doing well and needed doctoring right away. The closest physician was a half day’s ride away in Turnersville, but this fellow couldn’t ride that far for a doctor.
No, the only thing to do was offer their assistance the best they knew how.
Mostly, she could offer Mimmi’s assistance.
The woman had served as a nurse during the War of Secession and had learned a great deal about doctoring during those bloody years.
As a result, Lottie had called on Mimmi whenever the ranch hands had gotten injured.
Mimmi was able to set bones, stitch gashes, bring down fevers, and much more.
Surely Mimmi would help now, even with a stranger.
“Let’s get him inside.” Lottie signed the command to Enrique.
The wizened cowboy hesitated. “Maybe in the barn?”
Lottie shook her head and communicated back with her hands. “It’s too dirty there.” She started to lift the cowboy. What had he called himself? Jameson Noble?
Enrique’s leathery face creased with disapproval, but he bent and assisted her in hefting the injured man back to his feet. The fellow was still conscious but barely, and he shuffled enough that she and Enrique didn’t have to bear all his weight.
As they entered the house, Enrique motioned toward the hearth. She nodded at the bed. It was the only bed, and she shared it with Mimmi. For tonight, they needed to lay their patient there so that Mimmi would have an easier time tending to him.
Enrique shook his head every step of the way toward the bed. But he didn’t resist as Lottie shoved aside the covers with her free hand, then dragged an old blanket out from under the bed to lay out to protect the mattress from the fellow’s blood.
As she and Enrique lowered the man, he closed his eyes, his features taut with pain. When he was finally stretched out, her hands were covered in his blood. She wiped them on his already blood-stained shirt and began to unbutton it.
Enrique placed a hand over hers to stop her.
She glanced up at him.
“I’ll do it,” he motioned.
She hesitated. Was it improper for her to undress this man? Was that what Enrique was worried about?
“I’m fine.” She pushed away Enrique’s hand and continued with her unbuttoning. It wasn’t like she was a stranger to the male physique. She’d been married for close to five years and had two children. She was no longer the innocent young woman who had so easily let Dray charm her.
She wished she’d been smarter and stronger at the time she’d met Dray and had been able to resist him. Instead, she’d let herself get too enamored of him, let the physical attraction take over, and had ignored all the signs that he didn’t really want to settle down with her.
She wouldn’t make the mistake of having another bad marriage, because she didn’t plan to have any marriage again. She’d decided it was for the best if she stayed a widow, mainly because she didn’t need the hassle of a man in her life, was perfectly capable without one.
Even so, she had no issue with taking off Jameson Noble’s clothing. There was nothing wrong with a married woman nursing an injured man. Mimmi had claimed that’s why only married women had been able to become nurses during the war—because they were no longer shy about the human body.
With her fingers growing slicker from Jameson’s blood, Lottie finished unbuttoning, then began peeling away his shirt. Even though blood coated him, she couldn’t deny that he had a remarkably well-defined and muscular chest.
He also had what appeared to be two bullet wounds.
As she gently tugged the material away from the deeper one, she glimpsed the tip of a bullet lodged in his arm. The other injury seemed to be close to his collarbone, a bleeding gash, but it didn’t seem to have a bullet.
Even though she’d watched Mimmi do many medical procedures over the years, Lottie hesitated as she bent and examined both wounds again. Maybe she needed to bring Mimmi out of the safe room and let her do the doctoring.
But was it safe enough to bring Mimmi and the boys up? Because if Mimmi came up, she would have to bring the boys with her.
Lottie turned her attention to the young man’s face. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing quickly. Had he fallen into a state of unconsciousness? If so, that would be for the best, so he didn’t have to feel the pain when the bullet was extracted.
A small bottle of whiskey was hidden in the sideboard next to the stove. It was one of Dray’s that he’d left behind, and she’d saved it for emergencies. She would try to force a few sips down the fellow’s throat. Even then, he was sure to be in pain.
Enrique had moved the floorboard aside and was assisting Kace and Bo up. They were both unusually quiet as they peered at the bloody, half-naked stranger on the bed.
Right behind the boys was Mimmi, a petite gray-haired woman who was slender, almost fragile-looking.
In Mimmi’s case, looks were deceptive. She was far from fragile—was actually made of iron.
Not only did she have superhuman physical strength and endurance—or at least, it seemed that way with how she handled the boys—but she also had superhuman patience and kindness.
As Enrique helped her up the ladder through the missing floorboard, she didn’t seem to miss a single detail as she surveyed the room, including the man lying in the bed.
“What happened?” Mimmi whispered with a quick look out the window.
“I don’t know.” Lottie dipped her fingers into the basin on the bedside table.
Only a thin layer of tepid water remained, but it was enough to rinse her hands.
“We heard a lot of shooting, then it went silent. A short while later, this fellow showed up in front of our door and said he goes by Jameson Noble.”
Mimmi was now scanning the injured man. “Is it safe for the boys to be up here?”
“We went outside to help Mr. Noble down and didn’t see a sign of Vinnie anywhere.”
Mimmi hesitated. “Very well. I would still like the boys to stay away from the open windows.”
“Agreed.” Lottie dried her hands, a need to hug the boys welling up in her chest. They’d made it through another day.
“Kacey, Bowen.” Mimmi spoke gently. “You may sit under the table for now.”
“Can we watch you?” Kace asked, his eyes round as he stared at Mr. Noble’s bare, bloody chest.
Sudden hot tears stung the back of Lottie’s eyes.
Even if they’d all made it through another day, this was no way to be raising her two boys.
She’d wanted to shelter them and give them a normal life, the type of life she’d never had.
But so far, she’d failed at giving them anything but constant turmoil. Even now.
Had she been mistaken to think the ranch would be a good place for her sons? That they would have everything she’d never had? Or was she being just as disruptive as her own mother had been?
Lottie pressed her fingers into her eyes and swallowed the despair that was swiftly rising. She’d wanted to do better and be better than her mother. But it seemed as though she couldn’t be different, no matter how hard she tried.