“Four.” Trace’s expression was devoid of fear, but provided no signal for her to act upon. Men gathered all around, laughing and throwing down bets. They were gambling on her decision, making death a joke.
“Five.” There was a time to fight and a time to surrender. The latter would not mean defeat. It would merely provide another opportunity to save the day. Besides, she needed to see to her brother.
“Six.” She raced back to the bush and threw her bag in the center. It would be safe there and maybe she’d have a chance to get it later. Better than having her weapon confiscated from the start.
“Seven.” She took a deep breath and stepped from the bushes. A riotous fight broke out among the gamblers and the man with the gun shot a bullet into the air. The noise stopped and all eyes fastened on her.
“Smart move woman.” This was a new man on the scene. The next development she and Trace had been waiting for. “Get over here and join your husband.”
Gen covered the distance slowly, taking in the scene. By her wagon sat Andrea on the ground with Nick’s head in her lap. She was attempting to muffle the sobs. Gen picked up her skirt and rushed toward them instead, the change of direction bringing hideous laughter from the men.
“Tough luck, Trace old boy. Your woman appears to care more for the wounded than you. She’d have likely let me shoot you.”
Gen’s eyes silently pleaded with Trace and hoped he understood. He was still standing, but Nick lay helpless on the ground. Surely, he’d not believe the mockery of the reprobates. She dropped to her knees when she reached the couple by the wagon. Nick’s chest raised and lowered and she sighed with relief. Andrea pointed to the bloody stain in the middle of his shirt. Shaky fingers unbuttoned and pulled the garment off to the side out of the way. She examined the injury and smiled at Andrea.
“The bullet barely skinned his flesh passing straight through all those inches of extra fat around his middle. He’s just passed out. He’ll come around.”
Gen stood to her feet and headed for the back of the wagon. A voice from behind stopped her.
“Where do you think you’re going, little lady?”
“This man needs medical attention and I plan on giving it to him.”
“Well, lookie here, boys, we got us a doctor.”
“I’m not a doctor. You’re a lousy shot. Anyone could fix his injuries,” Gen said.
“Now maybe I didn’t plan on killing the cowboy. Just wanted to stop him from getting in the way.”
Gen ignored him and looked at Trace. “Could you get a fire going? Stick your knife in the blaze until it’s red hot, then bring it to me.”
Trace moved into action and thankfully no one stopped him. She picked up the pace and the man who’d held her husband at gunpoint now made his way toward her. He didn’t hinder her progress, but stood watching while she rummaged in the back of the wagon for the bag of medical supplies she’d brought along. When he offered a helping hand, she clutched the supplies tightly against her waist and stepped down from the wagon unassisted. Gen hurried toward her brother.
“He’s coming to,” said Andrea when Gen dropped down beside the couple.
Gen rubbed a hand over his brow. “Bad time to wake up, brother. I’m about to cause you pain.”
His grin was edged with agony but it encouraged Gen. “Wouldn’t be the first time, little sister.”
She passed him a rope to put between his teeth. “Want this to bite on or a taste of whiskey?”
“The rope will do. Wouldn’t want to offend the Good Lord so close to knocking on his pearly gate.”
She chuckled. “There’s no heavenly meeting planned for you today. You are far from death’s door. It’s no wonder the bullet slowed down and slid clear of that extra weight around your belly. You need to cut back on those second pieces of pie.” Gen spoke as she cleaned the wound and the area surrounding it.
“Sorry I’ve been such a jerk about your choice of husbands. I worry about you.”
“Don’t bother yourself concerning my love life. It appears yours is in a much sadder state.” Gen chanced to glance at Andrea and noted something deeper brewing behind her eyes, something her previous declarations of not caring contradicted.
“Thank you for tending to my brother in my absence. I appreciate it.”
“He’s always been so kind to me and I’ve returned it with childish anger.” Gen noted a flicker of hope pass over Nick’s face but Andrea spoiled it all when she added, “Terrance would be so disappointed in me.”
Gen gulped at the hurt that lodged on her brother’s face. The inconsiderate girl did not know when to quiet her tongue. She wondered what Nick saw in the immature Miss Andrea Friskin.
Trace moved in from behind and passed her his hot knife. “The wound looks clean, Nick, but I need to close the hole. It’s going to hurt.”
“I’m getting used to the feeling.” Gen knew he meant emotionally but smiled and pushed the rope between his teeth. “Bite down hard. It won’t take long.”
She puckered the wound closed, and pressed the knife over the top to sear it. In response, his body surged upward and a stifled scream filled her senses. Tears gathered in her eyes knowing she caused such discomfort to her brother. She loved him. When she noticed his body finally relax, she knew he’d fainted. Gen finished up her nursing and stood to her feet.
“Where is the baby, Andrea? Shall I bring him to you?”
“I don’t know. One of the men came and grabbed
