to Gracie’s ingenuity, she’d escaped and had been found by Trevor. Mendez and his men had died of poisoning unrelated to their kidnapping plans, but Lou couldn’t shake the feeling this place wasn’t safe anymore. He didn’t want Mary to see the depth of his worry, though. She had enough burdens to carry.
Feeling exhausted yet unwilling to surrender consciousness, he met her gaze. “Trevor and I buried Mendez. You don’t have to worry about him. But our cover is gone....” He paused for breath. He’d been shot before, stabbed, even, but never had he felt this tired.
“Take the medicine.” A note of stubborn finality crept into her voice. “I will speak with you about this later.”
Lou blinked hard against the tide of sleep pulling his lids closed. Mary wavered in front of him, holding out some foul-smelling concoction. She pressed the spoon against his lips, and he grabbed her wrist. Keeping his gaze pinned on hers, he swallowed but didn’t let go of the delicate bones beneath his fingers.
Her eyes widened, and a blush spread across her face at his touch. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip.
“Thank...you.” He struggled to speak without slurring, to give her a reassuring smile.
“You shouldn’t talk right now.” She lifted her other hand to his brow, smoothing his hair with warm, firm fingers. “I hear the wagon. James will be in at any minute.”
It seemed only a second to Lou until he heard his ranch hand and old friend James in the room. “Got him laudanum. Some Oregon grape root, too.”
Mary rose and disappeared from Lou’s view. He stifled the urge to shout and demand someone help him up from this bothersome bed. They came back, James smirking down at him.
“Had to go and get yourself shot, boss?” He swiped the hat off his head and rubbed the gnarled mass of hair above his ears. “Leave us with all the ranch work while you catch them bootleggers, and now look at ya.”
“Can you watch him for me?”
“I don’t need watching,” Lou told Mary crossly, annoyance temporarily strengthening him. “Get a message to Hayworth that I need to be moved. Maybe to headquarters.” Surely his superior would approve a move under the circumstances.
James bent over him and squinted. “You sayin’ the ranch ain’t safe?”
“Not with me here. These people mean business. If Mendez found us, chances are someone else...will...too.” Lou struggled for breath, hating the weakness of his body. If he’d just gone with his gut instead of standing in the road like a yellow-bellied pansy, he might be flushing out criminals at this very moment.
Now he was trapped here. Forced to see Mary every day, when every second just looking at her made him remember more and more of his past. It didn’t used to be this way. He didn’t like how things had changed.
He aimed to get out of here before things spiraled out of control.
“Let us take care of you.” Mary swished over, bringing medicine with her. “Here, gently now.”
Lou took the medicine, unable to fight the droop of his lids any longer. Mary’s and James’ voices became distant murmurs, then faded away.
He wanted sleep, but instead images from the past flashed through him. His mother and father. His brother with his wife. His niece, Gracie.
And Abby.
Sarah had named Abigail after her mother. He moaned, thrashing his head, willing the images to leave. To stop assaulting him.
His chest burned, but he couldn’t tell if it was the wound or his heart.
More laudanum. That was what he needed.
“Mary,” he whispered.
Nothing.
“Mary.” He tried again, forcing his windpipe to push out more air. A creak followed his plea, but he didn’t smell her.
An odd sound cut through the air. Like a...giggle?
He cocked an eye open. With the medicine swimming through his blood, the room tilted to the side. The doorway wavered, and for a second he thought he saw a thatch of blond hair beneath the doorknob.
“Abby,” he breathed. A hard rush of pain splintered through his chest, cutting off his air and making his eyes burn. Just one more look. After all these years, he wanted to see her one more time.
He waited. A second later the door creaked again, and Abby poked her head through. She shot him a wide smile that showed off teeth with a gap between them the size of Texas. Had he missed her losing teeth, then? It seemed she’d just started cutting them.
Sarah said she ate everything in sight. A smile curled up inside Lou like a soft blanket over his heart. “Abby, come here. Give Daddy a hug.”
Her giggle sprinkled through the air, light and fuzzy, followed by a sweet rush of darkness that took him to a warm and gentle place.
* * *
Lou Riley was seeing dead people.
Unable to shake the morbid thought, he opened his eyes. Bright morning sun poured through the window, highlighting the suspiciously clean lines of his room. Mary had been in again, dusting and cleaning. He groaned, wincing as a nasty throb of pain jolted through his temples.
His chest felt better, though. He tried shifting in the bed. His bandages crinkled with the movement, and a definite soreness invaded his muscles. No fever, no infection, which was a good thing. He’d be glad to discontinue this medicine, glad to get his head turned straight, glad to put an end to the dreams plaguing his sleep.
“There you are, sleepyhead.” Mary floated into the room, her hair a shiny ebony in the morning light. Her features appeared smooth and even, a hint of worry not evident. He must be doing great.
Despite his aches, he grinned at her. “Right where I’ve been the past week.”
“Oh, not that long.” Blushing in response to his flirtatious smile, she set a tray on the bed.
Lou sniffed the air. “Pancakes?” he asked hopefully.
“Yep.”
He took a closer look. “Is that a...rattler?” He glanced at Mary. The burnished rose color of her cheeks deepened.
“I was experimenting with shapes. A little artistic license. I’m not sure how that was placed on the tray.” She frowned and didn’t meet his eyes.
Interesting. He took the plate she held out to him and loaded up. Days of no food had made him famished. His stomach hurt just looking at it all. But that snake... A frown took possession of his mouth.
He settled against his pillow, carefully moving the plate to his lap. “You know, my mom used to make me and my brother animal-shaped pancakes.”
“Really?” Mary fiddled with the sheets on the bed.
“Oh, yeah.” He nodded, never taking his gaze
