Chapter 19
The canyon fell silent, broken only by ragged breaths and the echoes of retreating gunfire. Anthony held his ground as he scanned the trail. Something was wrong. Abigail wasn’t beside him.
“Abigail?” his voice cracked. “Abigail! Answer me!”
A faint groan carried from somewhere below. He dropped, eyes sweeping the shadows until he spotted a dust-smeared scarf and pale skin tucked behind a boulder.
“Anthony, I’m hit!” she gasped, pressing her hand to her side.
His chest clenched. He scrambled to her, searching for the wound. A thin graze along her ribs. It was bloody but not deep. Still, fear squeezed his throat.
“No,” he muttered. “You could’ve been killed.”
She winced, forcing a breath. “Not dead. Not yet. But we can’t stay here.”
“Can you walk?”
“Slowly,” Abigail replied.
She tried, then crumpled with a hiss of pain.
Anthony’s jaw tightened. This was on him. He’d dragged her into Vanburgh’s war, convinced himself he needed her mind beside his gun. Now, she was bleeding because of it. He should’ve left her in Silver Cross. It was safer there. Smarter. This was his mistake, not hers.
“Then I carry you,” he said, sliding an arm under her knees and another behind her back.
She clutched his shirt, voice trembling. “Don’t drop me.”
“I won’t,” he promised, hoisting her up. “But hang on tight. We don’t get second chances.”
Bullets cracked from the ridge above, stone splintering near his boots. Abigail pressed herself closer with a startled cry. “Too close!”
“I know,” he replied.
Anthony pivoted, using one hand to fire at the enemies. Then he pushed forward.
The one bandit they had left behind wasn’t pursuing. They had either lost him, or he had chosen to retreat. Either way, luck was on their side.
“Keep your head down, ma’am,” he said.
She managed a weak laugh through the pain. “This isn’t how I planned my morning.”
“Neither did I,” he muttered, muscles straining as he carried her along the jagged trail. Her weight didn’t matter. The guilt weighed more. Every step reminded him that she was bleeding because he put her there.
For a while, they moved in silence, broken only by gunfire and the scrape of boots on stone.
“Anthony . . . are you scared?” Abigail whispered after a while.
He almost laughed, but guilt swallowed it. “Scared?” he replied. “No, ma’am. Careful. But for you . . . I should never have brought you here.”
Her eyes flicked up at him, startled. “You needed help.”
“I needed you safe,” he said. “Now you’re bleeding because of me.”
She tightened her grip on his shoulder. “I chose to come. Don’t you dare make this only your burden.”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Every step felt heavier, and the weight of her body was matched by the weight of his mistake.
She was right. She chose. But if she died, the choice would have been his fault alone.
Gunfire cracked again, forcing them to duck behind a boulder. Dust rained down. Anthony fired two sharp shots as he kept an arm around Abigail. He drove their pursuers back.
“They’re everywhere!” Abigail gasped.
“Fewer than it sounds,” he said grimly. “But enough.”
A sloping ridge appeared ahead, treacherous but fast.
“We’re taking it,” he said.
“You’re insane,” Abigail gasped.
“Maybe,” he said. “But alive beats smart.”
The descent was brutal. Sliding rocks and stray bullets tested his balance with every step. Abigail clung to him for dear life.
“Why risk yourself like this?” she asked.
Anthony couldn’t understand why Abigail even asked such a question. His breath hitched at the back of his throat.
“Because if I lose you, none of this matters, ma’am,” he said. “Not Vanburgh, not Eagle Rock. Nothing.”
Her eyes softened despite the fear. “You mean that?”
“Every word.”
Too much truth, too fast. But maybe she needed to hear it. Maybe he did too.
Loose stone gave way beneath them. He steadied her with one arm. His revolver was raised with the other. When he saw a bandit in the distance, he fired his shot before the man could advance.
Finally, the canyon widened into a plateau dotted with scrub and a fallen log. Anthony lowered her gently, crouching beside her as she pressed her hand to her side.
“I can’t believe we made it,” she whispered.
“You almost didn’t,” he said sharply, pulling a canteen from his gun belt. He held it to her lips. “Drink.”
She sipped, then shot him a look. “Don’t scold me now.”
He exhaled hard, guilt raw in his chest. “Abigail, you should never have been out here,” he said. “I knew the risk. I brought you anyway.”
“And I chose to come,” she replied, her gaze softening. “Don’t take that from me.”
Anthony rested a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t lose you. Not to Vanburgh, and certainly not to my own bad judgment. You understand?”
She studied him a moment, then nodded slowly. “I trust you, Anthony. Even when you scare me half to death.”
A faint grin tugged at his mouth. “Good.”
She leaned against the log, exhaustion pulling at her features, but her voice was steady. “Then let’s keep moving,” she said. “Together. Carefully this time.”
He gave her a nod of agreement. For the first time since the ambush began, the silence didn’t feel like doom.
Anthony rose, scanning the ridges one last time before helping her to her feet. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she said, gripping his arm.
“Then we move,” he said. “No more chances, no more mistakes.”
Abigail managed a faint grin. “That part’s on you.”
He almost smiled in return, guiding her down the canyon with slow steps. Guilt still gnawed at him, but it sharpened into resolve. He would not fail her again.