handkerchief and offered her water from one of the jugs he’d brought inside. Like her daughter, she drank thirstily as he held her silky head. Damn, but she had nice hair, even if some of it was matted with dried blood. Her eyes closed and he laid her back down.
“Stay with me, okay?”
“’kay,” she whispered, but she didn’t open her eyes again.
Cade frowned. This wasn’t a good sign. How much blood had she lost? The wound might become infected. Bringing her inside had been a really bad idea. He should have taken her straight back to town or over to the doc’s place.
“Listen. Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” she replied without opening her eyes.
“I’m going outside to the truck. I’m going to radio Hap to send us some help. It’s going to take awhile, but I’ll get you to a doctor as quick as I can, okay? Miss? Hey. Can you hear me?”
He touched her cheek lightly, but she didn’t move. Her chest rose and fell in steady rhythm. She’d fallen asleep.
Or into a coma.
That thought scared him with gut-clenching intensity. As he squatted beside her, the sound of his truck engine coming to life was like an unexpected thunderclap. Cade leaped to his feet. In three short strides he was at the door.
“Hey! Hey hold it! Come back here!”
Someone was stealing his truck!
Cade raced after the vehicle as it barreled away down the rutted path that served as a road. He shouted to no avail. The bastard had no intention of stopping. While Cade hadn’t gotten a clear look at the driver, he didn’t need to. It had to be his brother-in-law, Luís.
But how had the kid known where he was? How had anyone known where he was?
An icy finger of fear raised the hair on the back of his head.
What if he was wrong? What if that hadn’t been Luís?
In the deepening twilight, Cade controlled a moment of panic. He forced himself to think. The line shack was a long way from the road. Hell, it was a long way from anything. How had Luís gotten here?
Cade surveyed the landscape surrounding the shack. There was no sign of another vehicle or a horse but the kid couldn’t have walked in. A drifter? There was a draw out behind the cabin to the east a ways, and of course the hills behind the shack. It was possible that a drifter had been camping nearby and seized the moment.
It was also possible that the drifter hadn’t been alone.
That thought stopped him cold. The isolation of the line shack was complete. Without that truck he had no means of communication or escape. Cade cursed his stupidity and the bastard who had driven off. His options had just vanished, leaving him stranded with a badly wounded woman and an infant.
Another chilling possibility worked its way forward. What if the woman’s husband had followed him here? A remote chance, but barely possible. He hadn’t really paid any attention to others on the road once he left town.
If it had been the husband, the bastard would have had to leave that little silver car of his out near the road. That meant he walked in, which meant his car wasn’t far away.
If it had been the husband.
Cade couldn’t leave the woman and the baby alone to check out that theory or any of the others. This was a perfect place for an ambush. Once he was out of sight all the bastard had to do was ditch the truck and circle back to the clearing.
Cade swore viciously. Every possibility he could think of presented potential danger. His rifle was inside his truck. The only weapon he had with him was a .38. He was pretty sure it only held three or four rounds.
Cade headed back inside. He lit a second oil lamp and dug his gun out of his gear. The feel of the heavy metal was reassuring. At least he wasn’t totally defenseless.
His pulse hummed with tension as he walked back outside and checked the wood box. Supplies were on the low side, but adequate for tonight. The real blessing was that he’d unloaded the important supplies before the bastard stole the truck. He had food, bottled water, blankets and his gun. What he didn’t have was a radio, transportation, more than one box of diapers or a lot of spare formula for the baby.
He hoped the woman could breast-feed soon or they were going to find out how the infant liked powdered milk. Cade primed the pump and let the water run until most of the brown discoloration was replaced by clear water. He filled a couple of pans with the water and lit the wood-burning stove. After stacking more wood inside, he dragged the table full of supplies over against the front door. At least no one could walk in on them without warning. Finally, he was able to turn his attention to the woman.
Girl, he corrected himself harshly, looking down at her relaxed face in the soft yellow light of the lantern. She couldn’t be more than sixteen or seventeen. Much too young to be married, let alone have a child. If he had that jerk bastard from the crossing here right now, he’d happily beat the man to a bloody pulp.
As far as Cade could see, the girl hadn’t moved. He grabbed the first-aid kit and braced himself for the delicate operation of removing her blouse.
He’d intended to cut the material away from the wound, but given the new situation, he might need to cut his spare shirts into diapers. There was only the one box of diapers tucked inside the bag she’d carried. Who knew how long those would last? He’d have to remove her blouse carefully and try to wash the blood out so she could wear it again.
Fresh blood matted the thin material, adhering it to her like a second skin. Cade frowned. How much blood had she lost? If that bullet had nicked the bone or an artery they were going to be in serious trouble.
If only she wasn’t so pretty. Why couldn’t she have been some fat old hag? He was feeling like a dirty old man for even noticing this one was female.
Taking a deep breath, he undid her buttons quickly. A lacy, white bra that fastened in the front was revealed. He had no intention of touching that! And he carefully averted his eyes from the sight of her small, high round breasts nicely filling the flimsy material. Cade cursed beneath his breath.
This was going to be harder than he’d thought. She lay like a rag doll as he lifted her slight weight and untucked the blouse from her slacks, slipping the white material off her good arm. She moaned softly as he laid her back down.
“Hey. Wake up. It would be a big help if you’d open your eyes and give me a hand here.”
No such luck. Her skin definitely felt warm and dry to the touch. Not a good sign. He’d take bets she was running a fever. He prayed the wound hadn’t gotten infected.
Water boiled on the stove. He let it go and rolled her to one side so he could ease the blouse away from her injured shoulder.
She was as delicate and fragile as a small bird. In back, the material of the blouse had crusted against the wound. He tried to ease it free gently, but the scab broke, starting a fresh trickle of blood.
With a muttered oath, he wadded her sleeve and pressed it against the wound, all the while thinking how badly he wanted five minutes alone with the bastard who’d shot her. At
