The Horseman's Bride Read Online Free PDF

idiots had gotten away. If he and Mary had been able to hold them, the marshal would have been called in, and he’d have found himself dragged to jail along with them. Even now, he had to wonder if the men, if apprehended, would be able to identify him. Now would be the smart time to climb on his horse and ride away. But he was in no condition to go anywhere.
    Why had Clara backed his argument against calling the marshal? Was she just talking common sense, or had those big sarsaparilla eyes seen through his facade to the fugitive he was? And if she suspected the truth, why had she helped him? Was it some kind of trick, meant to lull him into a false sense of security?
    Were the women calling in the law even as he waited?
    Jace’s hands had clenched into fists. Slowly he forced his fingers to relax, forced his mind away from the searing pain in his shoulder. Damn it, where was that whiskey? His ears strained for the patter of Clara’s light footsteps crossing the floor. He remembered thecool touch of her fingers, the pressure of her body against his side. He could feel himself swaying, getting light-headed. The pain was intoxicating. Maybe he should just grab the knife, yank it out and try to get to his horse. His hand crept toward knife handle.
    “No!”
    She was here now, rushing across the porch with Mary on her heels. As the screen door slammed shut, she dropped to her knees beside him. One hand clutched a pillow. The other clasped a bottle of cheap whiskey. “Give me that,” he growled, reaching to twist it out of her hand.
    “No.” She moved the bottle aside. “There’s only a little bit left, and we’ll need it to disinfect the wound.”
    “Hell’s bells, what happened to the rest? Have you been imbibing, Mary?”
    The older woman’s mouth twitched. “I’ll have you know I’ve had that same bottle for six years, and it’s only been used for medicinal purposes.”
    “Now, you I’d believe.” Jace’s head was swimming. He fought to stay alert. For all he knew, he could pass out and wake up in handcuffs, on his way to jail.
    “Be still and lie down.” Clara maneuvered him onto the pillow. “You can talk after we get this knife out of you and dress the wound.”
    Jace lay with his head cushioned, trying to imagine her bending over him under very different circumstances. His fantasy didn’t help much. The blade was buried a good six inches in his shoulder. This already hurt like hell. And it was just going to get worse.
    “Here, bite on this.” Mary was pushing something between his teeth. It felt like a table knife wrapped in layers of cloth.
    “Just get it over with,” he muttered around the obstruction in his mouth.
    “Ready?” Clara knelt beside him, the whiskey bottle beside her on the porch. Her nimble fingers ripped away his shirtsleeve, exposing the flesh around the wound. Then her hands closed around the knife. Her eyes narrowed. Her jaw tensed.
    “Now!” In one swift move she pulled the blade free.
    Jace gasped, muttered and passed into darkness.
     
    The knife dropped from Clara’s shaking fingers and clattered to the porch. Blood was soaking Tanner’s shirt and pooling below his collarbone. It seeped into the towel she was using to stanch the flow. She struggled to ignore her lurching stomach. Blood had always made her feel queasy.
    “Let it bleed a little more.” Mary would have tended to Tanner herself, but a bad knee made it painful for her to get down beside him. “It’s a deep wound, and Lord knows what was on that knife blade. The more dirt washes out, the less the chance of festering. That’s the real danger now.”
    “But there’s so much blood. You’re sure it’s safe?”
    “I’ve seen worse.” Mary’s mouth tightened, and Clara knew she was remembering the long-ago day when her youngest son had lost an arm in a threshing machine accident. The boy had survived and grown upto be a teacher. Mary had eventually considered the injury a blessing because, when he