Montana Surrender

by Simmons, Trana Mae

  Prudence drew another stroke on the paper and Jessica recognized the outline of a rifle. The rifle pointed at the clouds, and Prudence added a puff of smoke beside the barrel.

  "Yes, I know," Jessica said. "Storm was shot. Your brother shot him."

  Slowly Prudence nodded agreement before she turned her face up to Jessica. Leaving one hand on clouds, she placed her other hand on her heart.

  "You like Storm?" Jessica said in amazement. "But I gathered from your brother's conversation that this Storm rav...." Jessica couldn't bring herself to say the word. "But Tobias said Storm hurt you, Prudence."

  The violent shake of Prudence's head told Jessica emphatically that Prudence didn't agree with her brother.

  "Storm didn't hurt you? Is that what you mean, Prudence?"

  An affirmative bounce of the tousled brown curls indicated Jessica had at last gleaned the message Prudence meant to send her.

  "Have you told your brother, Prudence?"

  Prudence hung her head and pointed her finger at her ears. Then at her lips.

  "I see. He won't listen to you when you try to explain."

  A hopeless look filled Prudence's brown eyes when she looked back up. She pointed at Jessica, then touched Jessica's heart and pointed back to herself. The hopeless look gave way a little to the question in her eyes.

  "I see. And, yes, I do like you and I am your friend. If there's any way possible, I'll try to make your brother understand, Prudence. I'll be your words for you."

  Prudence leaned over and gave Jessica a hug before she rose to her feet. She pointed to the bedroom door.

  "Yes. You go on back to bed now," Jessica said. "I'll be there in a while."

  Prudence pointed to her head and widened her eyes.

  "No, I won't forget, Prudence," Jessica said quietly. "I promise you."

  After Prudence went into the bedroom, Jessica stared at the closed door for a moment. "I sure as heck don't see how I'm going to get anything through the mind of that pig-headed brother of yours, though," she whispered. "But I've promised you I'll try, and try I will."

  Jessica turned back to stare into the fire. Just what had she gotten herself into here? She had a ranch back in Wyoming demanding her attention — a ranch her father had carved out from the prairie with his own hands — a ranch Mr. Olson would claim in less than three weeks now.

  She and Ned had only come into this beautiful territory to search for the gold Uncle Pete assured her would lie at the end of his map. She needed that gold — needed it to get her own life back in order.

  Prudence's brown eyes, deep with trust as they had been before she went back to bed, rose up in front of her. How could she walk out on this small child-woman now? Obviously Prudence had laid all the trust she held at bay from the rest of the world after her ravagement at Jessica's own feet. She had to find some way to help Prudence.

  And what damage would this revelation of Prudence's have previously done to the man named Storm? Tobias had mentioned a court hearing — and an escape from prison. Storm had evidently been wrongfully convicted of the rape. What was Storm, whoever he was, doing in the territory again, where the entire population was probably on the lookout for him?

  Had she walked into a star-crossed lovers situation — where Storm and Prudence were trying to overcome the odds against their love? Why didn't they just run away together? Had it been a man she loved, Jessica told herself, a man like....

  Suddenly the frown on Jessica's face as she stared into the fire deepened and she slowly turned her head. Something scratched at the door. Up here in the high country, it could be any sort of wild animal. When she glanced at the uncurtained window beside the door, she could swear she saw a head duck back down below the pane of glass.

  Jessica rose slowly from the rug and stilled the rocking motion behind her when she bumped the chair. No sense looking around for her rifle — she clearly recalled leaving it in the scabbard of her saddle. Before taking a step, she picked up the fireplace poker. Bare feet flinching at the coldness they encountered on her way across the wooden floor, she gripped the poker firmly and forced her legs forward.

  She paused a moment at the door, then lifted the latch as she raised the poker over her head. The door swung back on silent hinges and she gasped in surprise.

  Chapter 11

  "Shhhh, Jes. For God's sake, don't scream."

  "Ned." Jessica lowered the poker and stared at the small man standing in the full light of the moon. "What in the world are you doing sneaking around out there? Why didn't you just knock?"

  "Lower your voice, Jes," Ned whispered. "Don't wake up Tobias."

  "He's dead to the world, Ned," she whispered in return. "But Prudence is sleeping restlessly."

  "Too restlessly for you to get your things and slip out, Jes?"

  "I don't know. What's going on?"

  "We need your help, Jes. I'm afraid that man out there's going to bleed to death if you don't come. I had a medicine kit in my saddlebags, but nothing Elias or I did seemed to help. I know Mattie taught you something about nursing bullet wounds."

  "You found the man Tobias shot? You found Storm."

  "That's his name, all right. At least that's what Elias says."

  "Where are the horses?"

  "Cinnabar's still in the corral, Jes. You'll have to catch and saddle him. You know he won't stand still for me."

  "Wait for me there, Ned. I'll find some way to slip into the room and get my clothes."

  Prudence's eyes opened the moment Jessica slipped inside the bedroom door.

  "Shhhh," Jessica said unnecessarily before catching the incongruity of the sound. She shook her head, then sat down on the side of the bed to take Prudence's hand in her own.

  ""Ned's back, Prudence. Oh, I forgot, you haven't met him. He's my friend, and he went with Elias a while ago. You do know Elias Gant, don't you?"

  The glow of the moon coming in the window showed Prudence's eyes lighting up and a smile curving her lips.

  "They came here with me to tell you and Tobias about Eloise, Prudence," Jessica continued in a whisper. "And when Tobias told us he had shot Storm, Ned and Elias went out to look for him. Ned says they've found him and he's hurt. I know a little about nursing the injured and Ned wants me to come help them."

  Prudence sat up and grabbed Jessica by the shoulders. Her throat muscles worked. "Huh...huh...."

  "Shush. I will, Prudence. I'll help your Storm. At least, I'll do everything I can. But right now, you have to let me get my clothes and go. I'll leave a note for your brother on the table and tell him Ned and Elias couldn't find Storm. I'll...oh, he probably won't believe that Ned just came back for me and we left in the dark to go back to town, but I don't have time to think of a better excuse. I'll see you in town tomorrow. All right?"

  Prudence pulled Jessica close and hugged her briefly before she dropped her arms and rose from the bed. Taking Jessica's riding skirt from the nail where it hung, she held it out to her.

  Once Jessica was dressed, Prudence held her arms out again. Jessica pulled the girl into her embrace and laid her cheek against Prudence's. A second later, she slipped out the bedroom door, holding her boots in her hand. The door even cooperated, she found herself thinking with a smile. It didn't even squeak.

  "Think you can find it now, Jes?" Ned asked as he pulled his horse up near the crest of a ridge.

  "Of course, Ned. Why, we're almost half way back to town and I always was good at remembering the country we crossed."

  "Good. Then I'll get goin'. Hope there's enough darkness left for us to do this."

  "It's only about midnight, Ned. But you'll have to ride hard. I don't see how you're going to get a wagon out here without someone from town seeing you, though."

  "I ain't worried about that, Jes. I'm worried 'bout getting it back into town."

  Ned nudged his gelding and left her sitting in the darkness.

  Not waiting until Ned's hoofbeats faded, Jessica urged Cinnabar down the hillside, trusting to
his sure-footedness in the darkness. At least they had crossed most of the rugged country getting here. She didn't have to worry as much about Cinnabar stumbling in the grassy valley she rode across. She glanced upward gratefully at the full moon.

  Soon the light of a small fire glowed in the distance. As Jessica approached the fire, Cinnabar cocked his ears upright and stopped. The stallion turned his head to one side and Jessica heard a whisper.

  "Jessica? Is that you?"

  "It's me," she called back in answer to Elias's voice.

  Elias stepped out from behind a sheltering rock. "Thought it was, but I wanted to be sure. Come on. He's over here."

  A moment later, Jessica knelt by the blanket wrapped figure beside the fire and gave a start of recognition at the same time as her heart twisted in agony. The night sounds receded around her, enclosing her and the man in a cocoon of silence.

  Storm. She could finally put a name to the face that had haunted her dreams. Storm. Elias's friend Storm was the man who had set her senses blazing the night before they came into Baker's Valley. Storm had been the man who kept her from dying in agony from a rattlesnake's bite.

  The deathly pale face lying on the blanket belonged to the man she had tried without success to push from her mind. Unconsciously, her hand went out to caress his wane cheek. Her fingers encountered a frightening coldness and she stifled a gasp of alarm.

  Oh, God, she prayed silently, please don't let this wonderful man be dying.

  Jessica drew her hand back guiltily. Storm. Prudence's Storm. The man Prudence loved, despite her brother's hatred of the man. How could she let herself remember the wonder she felt in this man's arms when he belonged to the poor mute girl she had left back at the little cabin?

  Her face narrowed in a frown. And how could he hold her and kiss her that way when he had another woman in his life?

  Elias's voice broke into her thoughts. "We've got to do something fast, Jessica."

  The world crashed back around Jessica, shattering the mixture of wonder and concern holding her in its grip. But she couldn't quite stop herself from just once more laying her hand on the cold cheek. She brought her fingers up through the silky hair, pushing it back from his face. Drawing her hand back, she gazed down at it in puzzlement as she rubbed a small ball of something sticky between her thumb and forefinger.

  "Jessica," Elias said insistently, finally galvanizing Jessica into action.

  Jessica hurriedly wiped her fingers on her skirt and looked up at Elias. "The bullet. Where did it hit?" she demanded.

  "It's high on his shoulder. Here. I'll show you."

  When Elias pulled back the blanket, Jessica caught her breath at the sight of the blood-soaked bandage. She forced her fingers to reach out and begin to unwrap it.

  "A shot like this shouldn't kill a man, Jessica," Elias said. "It's the bleeding. He's bleeding to death."

  "The bullet's still in there, that's why," Jessica told him in a shaking voice. "It's going to have to come out before the bleeding will stop."

  "Have you ever taken out a bullet?"

  "Not by myself," she said tightly. "I helped Mattie once when one of our hands shot himself by accident while cleaning a supposedly empty gun. God, I hope I can remember what she did. Do you have a knife, Elias?"

  "Yes, but...."

  "Put it in the fire to heat the blade. We may have to cauterize this when we get the bullet out."

  "Oh, lord," Elias breathed.

  Jessica ignored him and stared down at the angry, black-fringed hole on Storm's shoulder. The blood only seeped out now, but it would probably be pouring again by the time she dug out the bullet. Her stomach lurched. She hoped he hadn't lost too much blood already to withstand the loss of any more.

  "Do you have water, Elias? And a pail?"

  "Yes. Ned and I cleaned him up before, but the blood just came back."

  Jessica turned and dug in the medicine kit. "Here." She handed Elias the bullet probe. "Put this in the water and boil it."

  Without waiting to see if he complied, Jessica removed a bottle of antiseptic from the kit. She snorted in disgust at the lightness of the bottle and, holding it up to the firelight, found it empty. She dropped it and bent her head over the pack again, fingers groping until they encountered another bottle. Smiling in satisfaction, she pulled out a brown jug.

  "Whiskey," she said to no one in particular. "It'll do just as well. It's a good thing he's unconscious, though."

  But the moment she poured a measure of whiskey over the wound, Storm lurched and gasped. Black, pain-filled eyes stared up into Jessica's face. He clamped white, even teeth over his lower lip to stifle his groan of agony, but it rumbled in his chest anyway.

  "Storm, I'm sorry," Jessica said as she laid a comforting hand against his cheek. "The bullet's still in there, and we have to sanitize the wound so I can get it out."

  Storm covered her hand with his own and held it tightly when she would have pulled away.

  "Pretty lady," he whispered. "Is it you? Or are you a ghost?"

  Jessica laughed softly, though it took every bit of effort she could manage to rearrange her jumbled thoughts. The pleasure racing up her arm from his touch shook her to the core. How could she feel this way about a man lying wounded — perhaps dying — beside her?

  "You were supposed to be the ghost, Storm. Remember?"

  "I remember, pretty lady. And I guess you must be alive. I sure as hell wouldn't have ended up in Heaven if I were dead."

  "Don't say that."

  Elias knelt beside Jessica. "Do you two know each other?" he asked in astonishment.

  "Do we, pretty lady?" Storm's black eyes remained caught in the web flowing between the two of them. "You seem to have found out my name. Shouldn't I know yours?" he asked, though he full well knew the answer.

  "It...it's Jessica. Jessica Callaghan."

  "Jessica."

  Never had she heard her name said so tenderly before. She nodded.

  "I hope they don't call you Jes," Storm said. "It doesn't suit my pretty lady at all."

  Jessica laughed shakily and pulled her hand free. "Well, they do," she said. "And sometimes Jes suits me just fine. Now, you stay quiet and save your strength. This isn't going to be easy for either one of us."

  "I'll save what strength I can, Jessica. But I can't promise to stay quiet when you start digging for that bullet. Hand me a piece of wood to bite on."

  Elias reached behind him and picked up a piece of wood suitable for Storm to hold between his teeth. He glanced at the fire as he handed it to Storm.

  "The water's boiling, Jessica," he told her.

  Jessica stilled Storm's hand when he started to put the wood in his mouth. "Here." Picking up the whisky bottle, she held it out. "You better drink some of this first."

  When Storm tried to raise his head, Jessica quickly slipped an arm behind his neck to assist him. She smiled down at him as his eyes thanked her for a second, but his head wobbled weakly and she shifted so she could pull his head against her breast. Lifting the bottle, she placed it against his lips.

  "Do you need some help, Jessica?" Elias asked.

  "No. I can manage."

  Lord, she wished she could hold him like this for the rest of the night. She didn't want anyone intruding on the sweet wonder filling her as she held him close. Shaking her head to clear it, Jessica forced herself to remember Storm's wounded condition. She held the bottle up again and urged him to take another swallow.

  As soon as Storm complied, he went limp in her arms. She immediately set the whiskey bottle down, then gently lowered him to the blanket. After she brushed back a raven tress, she looked over at Elias.

  "He's passed out again. It will be easier on him this way."

  "No," Storm whispered. "I'm not out, just weak. But go ahead."

  Jessica nodded and forced her strangely reluctant fingers to dig into the medicine pack again. She pulled out some clean bandages and a pair of tongs to fish into the water pail for the bullet probe
when Elias held the pail out to her. Laying the probe down on a piece of clean cloth, she allowed it to cool for a moment.

  "Do you want some more whiskey?" she asked Storm.

  He only shook his head, gritting his teeth at the pain the movement caused.

  Jessica steeled herself and picked up the probe. It was still too warm, and she quickly dropped it onto the stack of bandages. She wrapped the top one around the handle and caught her lower lip between her teeth as she reached for the broad shoulder.

  What seemed like an hour later — but could only have been five or ten minutes — Jessica stared down unbelievingly at Storm. His eyes, though half shuttered in pain, still remained open. The firelight reflecting in the ebony depths left no doubt as to that. She watched him take the stick from his mouth and hold it instead of tossing it aside.

  "Are you going to have to cauterize it?" he asked in a surprisingly steady voice.

  "I...I don't think so," she replied with a shake of her sable curls. "It doesn't seem to be bleeding that much. I think I can stop it now with a pressure bandage."

  "Good." He flung the stick aside. "Then do it. I've got to get out of here."

  "You can't ride!" Jessica said with a gasp.

  "I have to," he returned flatly.

  "He's right about that, Jessica," Elias confirmed. "If he can't ride at least a ways, we'll never get him back to town before daylight. I told Ned we'd meet the wagon part way."

  "I'm not going into town!" Storm said emphatically.

  "You're not going to have much choice, friend," Elias informed him sternly. "If you think I'm going to leave you out here injured and alone, you've got another think coming. Idalee would have my hide."

  "I can't. Elias...."

  "You know as well as I do that no one will see us bring you in, Storm. But we've got to get moving. Jessica, can I help you hold him while you bandage that wound?"

  "Please, Elias. But I'm still not sure the ride won't kill him."

  "He's tougher than you think, Jessica," Elias said enigmatically. "He's had to be."

  Storm proved the truth of Elias's words. It took both of them to get him to his feet, though, and Jessica believed they never could have gotten him on the horse if not for the well trained paint. At Storm's command, the horse knelt on his front legs and allowed Storm to lean on his neck while Elias helped lift Storm into the saddle.