Dan stood and lifted his chair without looking at Winter, then slowly began to follow.
Winter held the door open as Dan moved past him into the bedroom. He didn’t seem to see anyone, not his sisters or the ranch hands, or even Cheyenne lying on the bed. Dan simply carried the chair to the corner of the room and sat down, then turned so that his face was in shadows looking away from everyone.
Winter had too much on his mind to try and contact this brother of Kora’s who seemed to have given up on living. He tossed his hat on a dusty dresser and looked around the room. The bed was already made out, a fire roared in the fireplace, and a kettle steamed on a rack. Towels and buckets were in ready along with a stack of bandages and the old medicine kit the captain kept nailed to the kitchen wall downstairs.
Winter glanced at Kora in question.
‘‘When I heard of the blood on your saddle, I prepared,’’ Kora said simply.
The other men who’d helped carry Cheyenne backed away, leaving the room silently. They all looked worried and thankful Kora seemed willing to take charge.
‘‘Thanks,’’ Win answered as he unstrapped his gunbelt and chaps. He was glad she was calm and not near hysterics like her sister. ‘‘We’ll have to cut his pant leg off and do the best we can until the doc gets here.’’
‘‘Not me!’’ Jamie shouted from the doorway. ‘‘I’ve seen all the blood I can handle for one day.’’ She was rubbing at her hands, trying to get all the red stain off.
‘‘Go wash, Jamie,’’ Kora said calmly. ‘‘I’ll help Winter.’’
Jamie hesitated. ‘‘He is going to live, isn’t he? I mean, I hate the man, but I wouldn’t wish him dead. There’s so much blood. He couldn’t have much left in him.’’
‘‘He’ll live,’’ Kora responded as if she were certain.
Without another word, Jamie vanished, leaving Winter and Kora to work together. He was amazed at how skilled she was. With a gaping wound that would make most seasoned cowhands turn away, Kora’s hands were steady. She cut the leather of his pants and mixed cool water in with the boiling to wash away layers of blood.
By the time the doctor arrived, they’d cleaned the wound. Cheyenne was very pale and he hadn’t said a word. His shirt and the sheets were stained in varying shades of drying blood. Winter knew he was very near death, but somehow Kora’s statement about him living eased Winter’s worries. She did all the right things, forcing water down him when he moaned and turning his head sideways when he passed out in pain so that he wouldn’t choke. She covered him in layers of wool to keep him as warm as possible.
Winter sat at the head of the bed and held his friend’s shoulders down as Doc Gage dug for the bullet. Kora was kept busy fetching more towels and water as needed. Cheyenne didn’t fight the pain, but took it silently, only tightening once when the bullet was pulled out.
Finally, after Gage’s nod, they stepped out into the hallway to wait. Winter lightly put his arm around Kora’s shoulder, silently thanking her for everything. She was a woman who must have learned very young to do what had to be done. Despite all Jamie’s yelling, she hadn’t had Kora’s strength. And Win couldn’t even imagine Mary Anna being by his side.
To his surprise, Kora moved into his embrace, circling her arms around his waist and holding tightly.
He felt her sobs against his side more than heard them. Deep, lonely, silent sobs. Winter didn’t know how to react to her sudden need. She’d proved herself strong, so it made no sense that she’d fall apart now.
‘‘It’s all right,’’ he finally whispered, knowing he should say something. ‘‘We did the best we could.’’
After a long while, she looked up, her blue eyes liquid with tears. ‘‘I thought it was going to be you,’’ she whispered. ‘‘When it was your horse, I thought it would be your blood. I was afraid my bad luck had rubbed off on you.’’
‘‘I told you, I believe a man makes his own luck.’’ He didn’t know if she cried because she still grieved and didn’t want to lose another husband so soon, or because she cared that he was alive. With her in his arms, it didn’t matter. For the first time since they’d met, she was letting him close and didn’t seem to be frightened of him. He liked the smell of her hair and the softness of her at his side. He’d never thought he needed a female except once in a while for the night, but a man could get used to Kora quickly. She was a habit already forming, and to his surprise, he had no desire to break away.
‘‘I’m not that easy to kill.’’ He tried to sound light. ‘‘I promised you I’d be home before dark and I almost made it.’’
‘‘In my life, it seems everyone around me is easy to kill,’’ she whispered.
Without thought, he pulled her full into his embrace and held her. She felt so good. After all that had happened today, nothing seemed more right than leaning his face against her hair and holding her so tightly he could feel her chest rise and fall with each breath against his own.
He told himself he was a man that needed nothing, but he wanted her by his side. He admired the way she took care of her siblings, the way she faced him even with fear in her eyes, and the way she took charge making arrangements in details he’d never thought about. He liked her leaning against him now, letting him be her strength if only for a moment.
‘‘Don’t be afraid of me,’’ he whispered. She seemed so frightened of not just him, but of life. How much heartache had she borne?
‘‘I’m not,’’ she answered. ‘‘Sometimes I’m afraid to blink because this will all end. I never figured I’d have a home, or a husband. I’m afraid I’ll awaken and be back in the dugout. Or on the streets of New Orleans without a place to sleep.’’
He turned her face to his. ‘‘What do I have to do to convince you that we’ll stay married for as long you like?’’
Before she could answer, a shadow moved in the foyer downstairs and Winter stiffened. ‘‘Who’s there?’’ he shouted as he reached for the weapon he’d left in Cheyenne’s room.
‘‘Wyatt, ah, Wyatt Mitchell, sir,’’ a deep voice answered nervously. ‘‘I was in the doc’s office when he got the summons, and I thought if there was trouble I’d best ride out with him.’’
The man stepped into the light, and Winter relaxed as he recognized a young gambler from town. Wyatt was a friendly enough fellow, always willing to relieve a man of his extra money at the gaming tables. As far as Winter knew, he was honest, or as honest as any gambler. Which wasn’t saying much.
Winter moved down the first few steps. ‘‘Thanks for tagging along with the doc. You’re right about there being trouble.’’ Win felt Kora’s hand touch his shoulder. ‘‘You’re welcome to stay the night, Wyatt. There’s plenty of room in the bunkhouse. Doc Gage said he plans to sit up with my man until he’s out of danger.’’
The gambler twirled his short-brimmed hat. He was of average height with the kind of polished good looks that only come when a person stays out of the weather. ‘‘Thanks, Mr. McQuillen,’’ he said. ‘‘I’d be much obliged. I wouldn’t want to interfere with you and the new missus, but I don’t much care for riding half the night to get back to town.’’
‘‘You’re not interfering.’’ Kora stood on the step behind her husband with her hand still on his shoulder. ‘‘In fact, you’re welcome to breakfast, Mr. Mitchell. I’ll send Jamie out to fetch you in the morning.’’
The gambler smiled. ‘‘Jamie wouldn’t be that vision in buckskin I saw run through here a while back?’’
‘‘Vision in buckskin?’’ Winter raised an eyebrow.
‘‘Yes, sir. She looked like she’d just washed her hair and face.’’ The gambler laughed, a rich laughter that comes easy to those who laugh a lot. ‘‘She had more water on her than she must have left in the tub. Her garments were wet and clinging to her like second skin. The clothes might be buckskin, but the lady was all woman beneath.’’
‘‘Jamie is my sister-in-law,’’ Winter interrupted the man’s memory before it got out of hand.
Wyatt sobered. ‘‘Sorry, no disrespect intended.’’
Now it was Winter’s turn to smile. ‘‘None taken.’’ He glanced at Kora, then back at the gambler. ‘‘You are a single man, I take it?’’
‘‘Yes.’’ Wyatt rocked back on his heels. ‘‘I never thought much of settling down.’’
Winter took Kora’s hand and moved back up the stairs. ‘‘Neither did I until recently. Who knows, Wyatt? The thought may cross your mind sooner than you think.’’
NINE
