by Debra Cowan
Davis Lee patiently watched her reload and fire, over and over. “Don’t quit,” he said when she dropped her arms to rest them.
Her forearms throbbed. Who knew it took such strength to shoot a gun?
“You’ll get it,” he murmured. But half an hour later, he looked at her, looked at the cans sitting exactly where he’d placed them. “Can you see the targets?”
“Yes.” A blush heated her face. Why couldn’t she learn this?
He looked genuinely puzzled. “Are you concentrating?”
“Yes.”
“I guess this is gonna take a while,” he muttered.
She loaded the gun again, anger at herself growing in the place of her earlier determination. Maybe the lanky man beside her was the reason she was doing so poorly.
When he stood so close to her, she could smell the strong fresh scent of lye soap and a faint whiff of leather and horse. She didn’t know why he affected her so, but the man could make a painted lady nervous.
Josie tried to push away the overwhelming sense of his presence and focus. She fired, pausing between each shot to take aim. She hit nothing. “I see why it takes a lot of practice to become good with one of these things.”
“I’m assuming you’ve got better aim with that blade you carry.”
He offered more ammunition and she pushed the bullets into the chamber.
“Those are my last bullets,” he said.
“I need more!”
“I didn’t think it was gonna take this many.” He grinned.
She smiled up at him then looked away when she saw the smoldering interest in his eyes. Was he watching her with such fascination because he suspected her real reason for coming to Whirlwind? Or because he felt the same unsettling awareness she felt?
Gripping the revolver with damp hands, she fired until it was empty. She risked a glance at him, catching a pained look on his face.
“That’s enough for today.” He walked to the rocks and began gathering up the cans. The cans she hadn’t come close to hitting.
She waited in a patch of buffalo grass, unwillingly admiring the fluid way he moved, the broad hands that completely covered the cans. “Are you ready to give up on me?”
She held her breath. If he said yes, what would she do? Her skirt caught on a clump of grass and she tugged it loose.
Davis Lee started back toward her, holding the burlap sack full of cans. “It’s all in the practice—” He froze midstep. “Don’t move.”
“What are you—”
“Don’t. Move.”
She frowned at the hard command in his voice, freezing as he’d ordered.
“Snake. I must’ve stirred him up by moving those rocks.”
“Where?” A sudden crackling noise caused her to involuntarily flinch.
Davis Lee cried out, “No!” The bag fell to the ground, cans clanging together.
She recoiled against a sharp blistering stab above her ankle that felt as if a needle had been jabbed into her flesh. A burning shot up her leg.
He whipped out his own gun and fired twice in rapid succession, aiming between her feet. It happened too fast for Josie to react at all.
She stumbled back a step, hardly able to make herself look down, but she did.
A blackish-brown snake with dark, indistinct-shaped markings protruded from beneath her skirts. Even she could identify the alternating black and white rings on its tail, and the rattle at the end. Nausea rolled over her. “Oh, dear.”
She wobbled.
“Are you bit?” Davis Lee rushed up. When he saw that the snake lay unmoving, he holstered his weapon. “Rattlesnake.”
Josie stared hard at the reptile as if she could will it to remain motionless.
“Josie, are you bit?”
“Yes.” She lifted her gaze to his, feeling detached from her body.
He cursed and scooped her unceremoniously into his arms, carrying her a safe distance away. “I’ve got to get the venom out of your leg.”
He reached their horses and tugged a rolled-up trail blanket from behind his saddle, snapping it open and wrapping it around her before carefully depositing her on the ground. He went to his knees beside her. “Is your vision blurring? Are you nauseous?”
“No.” She dragged in air, trying to calm her racing pulse and recall what her father had told her about treating snakebites. “It may be ten minutes or so before that happens. We need to work fast though.”
She already felt short of breath, but maybe that was because she was close to panic. A rattler. She had been bitten by a rattler. She had never even seen a snake, but thanks to her father she knew how to treat a bite. She had to stay as calm as possible.
Pulling the blanket around her to keep warm and try to combat the shock she knew would come, she reached for the hem of her skirt the same time Davis Lee did.
“Lie down,” he ordered. “You need to be still and quiet.”
She knew he was right but needed to do something herself. Pain seared her lower leg as if scalding water had spilled on her.
“Is it burning?”
“Yes.” Tears stung her eyes.
“It’s starting to swell, too,” he muttered.
“Do you know what to do?”
“Yes.” He lifted her skirts to her knees, pushing up the hem of her drawers.
She saw several cuts and scratches around a single puncture just above the top of her boot, the bloody blister forming at the bite that was a few inches above her ankle.
Her breathing grew labored and the burning in her leg intensified. Forcing away the panic that clawed at her, she focused on remembering her father’s instruction. Her hands moved to her bodice. Any constrictive clothing could increase the swelling and push the flow of venom through her blood faster. She shook so violently she could barely unfasten the buttons, but she managed to spread open the cotton fabric then reach for the fastenings on her corset. Sweat broke across her nape and between her breasts.
Davis Lee stared at her leg, jerking off his hat. “I’m going to have to cut you and suck out that poison.”
“I know,” she mumbled. Biting back a whimper at the voracious fire in her lower leg, she fumbled with the hooks down the front of her corset, hoping this would sufficiently loosen her clothing.
He glanced up then froze. “What in the hell are you doin’?”
“Constricts my breathing.” She struggled with the last closure just below her waist. “Anything too tight will spread the venom faster.”
He frowned, but pulled out his whittling knife with its four-inch blade and reached toward her. The whetted steel sliced easily through the thread securing her corset hook. The loosened garment relaxed, freeing her breasts, her ribs, and she dragged in a deep breath.
He moved back to her leg with the big knife. Josie gasped and lifted herself onto her elbows. “No, not yours. Mine.”
“There’s no time—”
“Use…mine.” Sweat dampened her palms as she reached for her scalpel and handed it to him. “If you butcher me with your knife, you might damage my muscle. Use this.”
He took the instrument, pushing her back down before leaning over her leg and aiming intently for the bite.
“Tie your kerchief around my calf about two inches above the puncture, just so it forms a light band. Keep the incision small and in the bite. That will help minimize the damage.”
“I know how to do this. How do you—never mind.” He applied the bandanna.
She shakily slid two fingers beneath the fabric to make sure it wasn’t too tight then turned her head away as he made small, shallow cuts in her leg. Between the burning agony of the wound and the slices into her flesh, Josie nearly passed out.
She was vaguely cognizant of the fact that a man she barely knew had lifted her skirts.
His lips touched her leg, the heat of his mouth lost under the fever of her skin. She felt the starch seep out of her. Her breathing grew more forced; her pulse raced. The wound throbbed ceaselessly.
> “Hang on.” Davis Lee sucked at the wound and spit so often that Josie lost track of time.
She curled her fingers into the blanket trying to keep from passing out. The inside of her mouth tasted as rusty as if she’d chewed old nails for breakfast. Fever built in her leg and moved through her body.
After long minutes, she laid an unsteady hand on Davis Lee’s knee. “You’ve done all you can. It’s probably all right to start for the fort doctor now.”
He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, studying her face as if deciding whether to stop. “I’ll take you to Catherine. She’s closer and will know what to do. She’s a nurse.”
Josie nodded weakly. If they hadn’t acted quickly enough, it wouldn’t matter what a doctor or a nurse did for her.
Davis Lee dropped her scalpel in his saddlebag then moved to her side. “We’ll have to ride double.”
She nodded, so drowsy that she was hardly able to control the movement. Another sign of a poisonous snakebite. She tried to remain calm, knew she had to.
Davis Lee reached to button her bodice but her gaping corset prevented him. He cursed, grabbing hold of the stiff undergarment and dragging it off her body. “You don’t need this damn thing anyway,” he muttered.
Josie didn’t even care that he’d removed it; she only cared about breathing. He clumsily fastened several buttons, half of them in the wrong loop, but her bodice was mostly closed. She found his attempt endearing.
He stood, settling his hat on his head as he stuffed her corset into his saddlebag. “I’m going to lift you into the saddle then climb on behind.”
“I can stand.” Her tongue tingled.
“That’s a damn fool idea.”
“The important thing…is to keep the bite below my heart.”
“You’re fadin’ fast. We’re doin’ this my way.” He knelt and gathered her, blanket and all, in his arms, then gently sat her in the saddle.
Wobbly, she curled her fingers into the sleeves of his shirt. He gently pried them off and folded them around the saddle horn.
“Hang on,” he said.
“All right.”
He slowly released her then climbed up behind her, settling her in the cradle of his thighs. Her vision blurred as the drowsiness leeched her energy. Her head fell against his chest.
“I’ve got you. Don’t worry about trying to hold on.”
She snuggled one shoulder under his arm, her fingers closing weakly on the pommel.
“Okay?”
“Yes.”
He turned his horse, moved toward hers to pick up the reins and they started for town.
“What about your cans?” she asked sleepily.
He looked down at her, sounding amused. “I can get more.”
Agony seared her leg and she felt herself waning, the green grass blurring as they moved. Davis Lee’s strong arm circled her waist and she leaned into him. He was hot. And hard.
The pain jumbled the thoughts in her head. Memories of her parents’ lifeless bodies. Of the first time William had kissed her. Davis Lee’s eyes glittering with suspicion.
With her cheek cradled against his broad chest, she felt safe. And torn. If she survived this, it would be because of him. She didn’t want to owe him. It would only complicate matters once she killed his prisoner.
Chapter Four
He talked to her all the way to Whirlwind about everything from shoeing horses to whittling. A couple of times he thought she lost consciousness, and by the time they reached town, she had.
Dusk settled around them as he guided his buckskin up the main street and toward the Whirlwind Hotel. Davis Lee barely paid any mind to the attention he attracted from the few people who were still about. He saw Matt and Russ Baldwin coming out of Pete Carter’s saloon and hollered for both of them. The dark-haired brothers, easily the biggest men in Taylor County, hurried out to meet him.
Matt, the youngest by a year, reached Davis Lee first. “What’s happened?”
“One of you go for Catherine and one of you come help me!”
Russ, the quieter of the two, turned back and unhitched his bay mare then vaulted into the saddle.
“Tell her I need her for a snakebite.” Davis Lee thought he would never reach the other end of town, but he finally reined up in front of the hotel.
Matt met him there, taking the reins of Josie’s horse and flipping them over the hitching post. His gaze skated over her and interest flared in his eyes. “Who is she?”
“Her name’s Josie Webster.” Davis Lee shrugged off his annoyance at Matt’s fascination. The Baldwin brothers were well-known ladies’ men. “Here.”
When Matt came forward, Davis Lee handed her down carefully then swiftly dismounted.
“Why haven’t I seen her before?” The other man stared at her. “She’s a beauty—”
Scooping Josie out of Baldwin’s arms before Matt could even turn toward the hotel, Davis Lee took the steps at the end of the landing.
Matt hurried behind him. “Why are you bringing her here?”
“Her room is closer than Catherine’s house.”
“She sure is a little thing. Is it bad?”
“I think so.”
The other man opened one side of the double glass-front door. “I’ll take care of the horses.”
“Thanks.” Davis Lee glanced down, concern growing that Josie wasn’t waking. Beyond the staircase, three guests sat in the dining room. He stopped at the registration desk and hollered at the man behind it who was slumped and snoring in his chair. “Penn!”
The old man came slowly awake, blinking.
“Get Esther to meet me upstairs!”
Confusion slowly cleared from the clerk’s lined features as his gaze went to the woman in Davis Lee’s arms. Penn’s eyes widened and he pushed himself out of his chair. “That’s Miss Josie!”
“Yes.” Davis Lee rounded the corner of the desk and started up the staircase.
“What happened?”
“Snakebite,” he said tightly.
Penn shuffled toward the dining room. “Esther! Come quick!”
Davis Lee reached the second-story landing, then Josie’s room. The door was locked. He stepped back to lean over the wooden stair railing. “Get me a key!”
“Coming, Sheriff.” It was Penn’s wife, Esther, who answered him.
He heard frantic muttering, then saw her iron-gray hair as she breathlessly mounted the stairs. As round and soft as Penn was narrow and hard, Esther had a sweet disposition and good hearing, for which Davis Lee was thankful.
He stood aside so the older woman could open Josie’s door. When she pushed it wide, he strode across the room to the bed in the corner. Josie was still limp in his arms. Her skin was waxy, pale as a cloud and Davis Lee’s chest squeezed.
He laid her on the mattress, sitting on the edge of the bed to tuck his trail blanket tightly around her. He wished she would open her eyes or moan or something.
“Should I send Penn for Miss Donnelly?”
“I sent Russ to fetch her.” A trained nurse who had come to Whirlwind only a few months ago, Catherine was the first woman Davis Lee had been in danger of falling for since Betsy, but she’d fallen hard for his cousin, Jericho. And he for her.
Esther moved up behind Davis Lee, peering at Josie over his shoulder. “Poor thing. What can I do?”
“Probably ought to get her boots off.” What had she said about things constricting her? Maybe he had wrapped her too tightly. He loosened the tight cocoon of blanket.
Esther moved to the foot of the bed and unbuttoned Josie’s black boots, slipping them off. Davis Lee lifted the blanket and tugged her skirts up enough to see the wound. Her golden-peach skin was stretched taut and thin. He thought her calf looked more swollen than before but he couldn’t be sure.
Aware that Esther stared disapprovingly at his hand on Josie’s leg, he pushed her skirts back down. “Josie?”
Her eyes remained closed. He took her hand. Finding it clammy, he t
ucked it between both of his and rubbed. She was in shock. Maybe he shouldn’t have loosened the blanket. Where the hell was Catherine? All he knew to do was keep trying to wake Josie. He kept her small soft hand in one of his and lifted the other to her face, patting her cheek.
“Josie? Wake up.”
He cursed under his breath. She was so slight, looked so defenseless lying there. Her lips were barely parted, her lashes dark crescents against her pale cheeks. The rise and fall of her chest was rapid, too rapid.
She opened her eyes.
“Josie?” He leaned over her.
“Sheriff?” she croaked, looking at him through slitted, pain-filled eyes.
“I sent for Catherine. You passed out.” He awkwardly patted her shoulder, his stomach dipping like he’d been thrown from a horse. “She’ll be here soon.” It needed to be now.
“I…can’t see you very well. I’m thirsty.”
Esther hurried out of the room. “I’ll get some water.”
Davis Lee squeezed Josie’s hand, using his other to tuck the blanket snugly around her once more.
“Hurts.” She sounded breathless; her eyes drifted shut.
“Josie, don’t go. Stay awake.” He tapped her chin gently with a knuckle. “Josie.”
Where was Esther? Hell, where was Catherine? What if he hadn’t sucked out enough venom? For all he knew, that stuff was leeching the life out of Josie. The sound of footsteps rushing up the stairs had him looking over his shoulder. Relief pushed through him as Catherine hurried inside, skirts swishing.
“Russ said there was a snakebite.” The raven-haired nurse hurried around him, shoving a small black bag into his chest. She placed a hand on Josie’s forehead.
He stood and stepped back to give his friend some room.
“How long has she been like this?”
“She woke up just a minute ago, but before that at least ten minutes.”
“Where’s the bite?”
“Her left calf, on the inside.”
Rolling up the sleeves on her pale blue bodice, Catherine folded back the blanket and reached for Josie’s skirts. She glanced at him. “I need to look at the wound.”