Sagebrush Bride

by Tanya Anne Crosby

  “O’Neill—y’ double-crossin’ bastard!” came Magnus’ sleep-hoarse voice.

  With a savage war cry, Cutter thrust O’Neill’s body off Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth automatically fumbled for the boy’s body, trying to reach him, to help him—drag him to safety at least. Her duty—the motions so inbred that she didn’t immediately think of her own safety, or even Katie’s.

  Another shot whined overhead, coming from the opposite direction this time, and somewhere she heard feet scattering for cover. “Help me, Cutter—he’s hurt!”

  “Not hurt!” he snapped. “Dead! Now get a move on, Doc!” Cutter seized her by the hair, jerking her backward without apologies. “Chrissakes, woman,” he snarled when she resisted. “Can’t fix this one either! Let go!” Coming near to dragging her, he withdrew deeper into the night, pulling Elizabeth up by her waist when he could, trying not to harm Katie as he dragged them both behind a small boulder, barely sufficient for cover. Above them, bullets sang. One struck the stone, ricocheting into the darkness.

  Cutter drew his Colt out of his gun belt and pressed it into Elizabeth’s hand. “Stay low and shoot straight!” he demanded. “Gotta untie Katie.”

  “B-But I—I can’t see!” Elizabeth gasped, her hand as shaky as her voice. “I can’t see to shoot!”

  “Chrissakes!” Cutter reached out and pointed the gun in the general direction he intended for Elizabeth to fire, and then, in the same fluid motion, withdrew his knife from his boot, nudging Elizabeth when she didn’t immediately obey. “Just squeeze the damned trigger!”

  Another volley of shots whizzed overhead, but Elizabeth could no longer tell whether they were coming or going. She froze. “A-Anywhere?” she asked frantically, her fingers shaking violently.

  “Anywhere but at me!” Cutter shot back, shoving her head down without warning. “If y’ can’t see—don’t bother looking. Just keep the gun steady and squeeze the trigger.” At her back, he quickly found and slashed at the rope between Katie’s wrists, freeing her arms from around Elizabeth’s neck, then her feet. Jerking her from Elizabeth’s hold with a muttered curse, he removed the gag from Katie’s mouth and urged the child onto all fours. He shoved Elizabeth down again when her head came up too high, and belatedly it occurred to him that she hadn’t yet fired a single shot. He nudged her, hard. “Shoot!”

  Having freed Katie, Cutter turned, surging upward against the boulder. Aiming his carbine straight into the night, he fired, reloading at once. His ears straining to pick up the sounds he needed, he fired again, repeating the process with calm proficiency. Then again, reloading as swiftly as he fired. Hampered as he was by his dull-as-ditchwater senses, and the lack of light to see by, Cutter was surprised when a grunt of pain ensued. But he smiled into the darkness and fired again.

  Elizabeth squeezed her own trigger. As she fired a shot, another bullet struck the boulder, splintering rock and then ricocheting, interring itself into the ground nearby.

  “Katie,” Cutter said, his voice tortured, turning to catch her by the arm. “You trust me, don’t you?”

  Things weren’t going quite as he’d planned. Hell, he’d hoped Elias would get back before he was forced to go in. But he’d heard Elizabeth whimpering, and had reacted purely on instinct.

  Terrified as she was, Katie’s head bobbed once in acknowledgment as she responded with the anticipated trust of a child.

  Cutter felt the gesture more than he saw it. Relief washed over him, because he sure as hell needed her trust. “Good girl!” he said, while his mind groped for a solution. He’d forgotten Elizabeth couldn’t see distances. It only stood to reason she’d be blind as a bat at night. He’d planned to send her along with Katie, covering their backs while they ran for safety, but Elizabeth would likely lead them straight to hell that way. No, Katie was better off without her. Thing was, he wasn’t about to leave Elizabeth stranded, either—not knowing which way to run when the time came. If he left her now… he wasn’t certain he could make it back. He felt trapped between the devil and the deep sea.

  He shook his mind clear and gripped Katie’s hand firmly. “All right now, Katie. Listen to me… I want you to crawl—straight as you can—fast as you can. I… ” Hell, he had no choice. He couldn’t let her go unprotected. “I’ll be right behind you,” he relented, his gut twisting.

  Katie nodded again, but her little body tensed, and Cutter ruffled her curls in reassurance.

  “I’ll be right behind you,” he repeated. Overhead, shots waned momentarily, then stopped for an instant, and Cutter shoved. “Go!” he hissed.

  Katie scurried over the ground as quickly as her little hands and feet could carry her, and it was all Cutter could do to keep up.

  It took Elizabeth a terrified moment to realize what had happened, that she was alone. But the instant she did, fright struck like cold steel into her heart. Desperately she tried to keep the panic from clutching her by the throat, smothering her breath. Her heart hammered with fear as she squeezed off the last shots in her revolver. But even before the last click, Cutter materialized from the darkness to seize the gun from her hands, as though he’d anticipated it. He resheathed it, and then jerked her down to her knees as another round of lead immediately flew over their heads.

  Keeping low to the ground, Cutter led the way, jerking Elizabeth forward each time she lagged behind, the touch of his hand clammy on her arm. Finally, ducking bullets, they reached a much larger boulder. “Katie?” Cutter whispered as he dragged Elizabeth behind it.

  Katie mumbled something unintelligible, and Cutter immediately rose against the boulder, leaving Elizabeth to do her part. She searched out Katie in the darkness, railing her name softly. With a frightened little whimper, Katie plunged into her arms, and Elizabeth urged her to keep silent.

  The darkness was a mixed blessing—hiding them but shielding the men who fired on them. As the moments lengthened, gunfire became more sporadic, each side thinking to conserve ammo, each side aiming to win.

  It was with relief that Elizabeth sensed the coming of daylight. As the first pink streaks of dawn stretched across the brightening sky, she huddled close to Katie, trying to cause the least possible distraction. Watching Cutter intently, she soothed the child, ran fingers through her curls, rocked her.

  Her heart lurched as Cutter wavered suddenly on his feet.

  Blinking hard, Cutter shook his head to fight away the darkness. In spite of the fact that night was waning, shadows were beginning to converge in his mind, closing in swiftly. There was no doubt about it now. He’d fought it off as long as he could.

  He didn’t have long.

  Again, he blinked and shook his head, staggering to his knees. He knew better than to panic. Panic would lay them all six feet under. But his strength was fading quickly. He turned abruptly, his back slamming against the boulder as he fell backward, his hair and clothing soaked with sweat. Without a word, he lifted his Colt up out of his belt and began to lever bullets into the firing chamber.

  “Cutter?”

  Seeing his eyes close briefly, Elizabeth startled. Crying out, she slid Katie off her lap and threw herself at him.

  “Cutter!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  Immediately, Elizabeth began searching for a wound, tears pricking at her eyes, threatening to obscure her vision. With the last of his strength, Cutter thrust her hand away and continued loading, but she returned stubbornly, probing him, holding back her sobs as she searched him.

  Sweat trickled from Cutter’s brow as he passed the loaded weapon to Elizabeth.

  “Where?” Elizabeth demanded, desperation taking over. She could sense him fading, and still had no notion what it was that was wrong. “I don’t see where you were shot!” She was losing hold of her control. Dear God, Cutter couldn’t die. He couldn’t leave her! She loved him. “Cutter,” she moaned.

  “Lizbeth, gal… we’re in a tight… ”he told her, wavering on the brink of unconsciousness. Shadows flitted before his eyes as he
handed her the loaded Colt, butt-first. He swallowed nothing. His mouth was dry as death. “Need your help,” he told her hoarsely.

  Elizabeth shook her head, shoving the gun away, denying him. She was terrified that if she touched the gun, he would slip away. Desperately she continued to probe his body for the mysterious wound, confounded that she couldn’t find it.

  Cutter looked at her blankly, his eyes narrowed and glassy. “Elizabeth,” he said firmly. “Take the confounded gun… point it at the bad guys… and shoot.” he thrust it at her weakly. “Take it,” he entreated softly, blinking as his eyes crossed.

  Fighting her hysteria, Elizabeth snatched the odious gun from his hands, fully intending to lay it aside while she continued to search him, but the moment she did, Cutter’s eyes closed, and he slumped to one side.

  “No!” she cried, clutching his shoulders in desperation. “Oh, no—Cutter, no!”

  Lead shattered into the boulder, flinging shards of stone. One chip hit Katie in the arm. At once Katie began to shriek, scurrying closer to Elizabeth. Elizabeth shoved her down to lie beside Cutter, her instinct for survival taking over. Saying a short prayer for all their souls, she rose to her trembling knees. The gun wavered in her hands as she peered over the boulder, only to face panic once more.

  Oh, God! She could see nothing! Nothing at all! She shook her head, denying the position she was in, and turned, sinking down despondently against the cold stone. But it was no use. Denial would accomplish nothing.

  “Dear God, have mercy on our souls,” she said with a catch, and resolutely came back to her knees, fully expecting to look death in the face.

  She couldn’t see anything beyond the swaying grass—not even the boulder she and Katie and Cutter had used for shelter earlier. Everything, everything, beyond her field of vision was a hazy predawn blur of gray and rose. Another bullet whistled past, just missing Elizabeth.

  At her feet, Cutter groaned, startling her.

  “Just a scratch,” he said deliriously, his teeth setting against the pain.

  Elizabeth felt torn, wanting to go to him, and knowing she couldn’t possibly. She peered over the boulder again. Another bullet whizzed by, missing her, though barely, and she squeezed one of her own off accidentally. Her hands quivering, she muttered a curse she’d learned from Cutter and glanced back over the boulder, pointing her gun shakily, but not firing.

  She couldn’t see anything to shoot at and didn’t dare waste bullets. Oh, God… she couldn’t kill what she couldn’t see! And she couldn’t see anything!

  Not true! she told herself. You can see all you need to! Don’t panic. “Do not panic,” she told herself firmly.

  Biting her lower lip almost painfully, she held her breath, and waited. For the longest moment, there was nothing. Nothing at all. The sound of gunfire stopped abruptly, and only the sound of the breeze stirred through the grass.

  With every second of silence, her fear mounted.

  And then suddenly she tensed, seeing a face… oh, God, a face… a bearded face! Magnus was on his belly, coming like a snake through the grass!

  He was grinning—knowing that she was incapable of staving him off alone. But he was wrong. She could do it! Keeping her hand as steady as she was able, she tried with all her might to focus, squinting as he came closer, waiting for the right moment.

  Closer.

  “Aunt Lizabeth!” Katie squealed in fright.

  “Stay down, Katie!” Elizabeth squeezed the trigger, but it merely clicked, the chamber empty. Cutter had missed one. How many bullets had he loaded? She couldn’t remember.

  “Cutter?” she whimpered.

  Magnus’ grin widened. Emboldened, he came to his knees, rising swiftly to his feet to rush at her.

  Panic threatened to set in. Some part of Elizabeth wanted only to toss down the gun in her hand and throw herself at Magnus’ mercy, knowing there was no way possible for her to fire and hit her intended target… even if there were bullets… but there had to be! She’d watched Cutter load it!

  There had to be!

  And she had to try. Magnus would kill them all without hesitation. That had been his intent all along, she reminded herself bitterly. Bolstering her courage, she straightened, steadied the gun in her hand, and focused hard on Magnus’ beard.

  With a hopeless cry, she squeezed the trigger again. Adrenaline sped through her as the gun discharged. Again she fired. And then again. And then again.

  And then she blinked, disbelieving her eyes. Before her, as though in slow motion, Magnus wavered a moment, then fell to his knees in the grass, clutching his ribs… an arrow piercing his heart. Blood gurgled from his mouth.

  Oh, God… an arrow!

  Elizabeth stared at it for a dumbfounded moment. She watched as he dropped the gleaming silver gun to the grass and then collapsed atop it. Shocked, she turned to see that Katie had buried her face into Cutter’s side.

  And then she looked up… and saw another face approaching, a face with eyes as black as Cutter’s. But it was familiar and she didn’t scream, despite her moment of fear. She swallowed, realizing that it was the very same Indian who had come upon her and Cutter in their sleep. The same one who had spoken to Cutter. Who’d thanked her for the sage she hadn’t purposely placed on his brother Black Wolf’s grave. She shook her head, as though disbelieving what she saw. The Indian came forward and bent over Magnus’ body, placing a hand before his nose and then at his throat.

  “Enaa’e.”

  Elizabeth shook her head frantically, not understanding.

  “Enaa’e!” He pointed at Sulzberger and made a quick slicing motion with his hand. “Enaa’e!”

  “D-Dead?” she stammered. “Dead?”

  The Indian seemed to understand her, and he suddenly pointed away from them, in the direction Sulzberger had come from. “E-e tdhtahe!”

  “C-Colyer?” she asked, pointing timidly in the same direction. “D-Dead, too?” She tried to recall what Cutter had said about death in the Cheyenne tribe. “Seyan?” she blurted. She pointed in the same direction the Indian had, once more, hope spiraling in her breast. “Colyer… seyan?”

  The Indian’s brows collided, though he appeared amused, not angry. He shook his head and pointed again. Then, turning, he held out his hand. Two of his fingers ran across his palm. “Ee’tóhtahe,” he repeated.

  Elizabeth shook her head, still not understanding.

  Suddenly his arms flew wide, and his fingers curled, claw-like. He shouted the word again and lunged at them. Katie screamed, hurling herself into Elizabeth’s back, her arms flying about Elizabeth’s neck.

  Elizabeth didn’t dare move.

  “Ee’tóhtahe!” the Indian said again, pointing at Katie. He mimicked Katie’s fear, running in a circle with his hands high in the air. His mouth was agape with a scream that never materialized.

  The image was so comical that if Elizabeth hadn’t been so dazed, she might have actually laughed. As it was, he stopped suddenly, and she flinched at the suddenness of his movement as he again pointed in the direction Sulzberger had come. Just to be certain she understood, he turned his palm up once more and ran his fingers across it. “Ee’tóhtahe!” he repeated.

  “Afraid,” Elizabeth whispered with a nod. Her heart pounded fiercely, yet she knew instinctively that he’d meant neither of them any harm. Colyer had run away afraid, she surmised. She made the same running motion with her fingers, and nodded again at the Indian. “Colyer ran away afraid,” she concluded, and then she began to pry Katie’s arms from around her neck. She brought Katie around to embrace her. “He won’t hurt you,” Elizabeth assured, knowing in her heart that it was the truth. “He means to help us.”

  The Indian nodded and smiled, as though he’d again understood. He looked down suddenly and kicked Sulzberger’s body violently. Elizabeth winced, but Sulzberger didn’t stir.

  Satisfied that the Indian had come in peace, Elizabeth wasted no more time in returning her attention to Cutter. With Katie still clutchi
ng at her, she turned and began to examine him under the Indian’s watchful gaze. Quickly she began to unbutton his shirt, removing his arms from his sleeves. He was much too heavy to remove it completely, so she left it for him to lie upon.

  As Elizabeth probed Cutter’s arms, she was vaguely aware that the Indian was dragging Sulzberger away from them. When he was gone finally, Katie eased her grip, though she didn’t release Elizabeth completely. Her little fist clutched at Elizabeth’s skirt.

  Katie’s whisper was shaky. “I-Is he a Indian, A-Aunt Lizabeth?”

  Elizabeth nibbled her lower lip as she met Katie’s frightened gaze. “Yes,” she replied.

  “Is h-he a good Indian?”

  Elizabeth couldn’t tear her gaze away. There was so much of her own emotions mirrored in Katie’s eyes. “Yes, he is,” she answered with more certainty than she felt. Swallowing, she returned her attention to Cutter.

  “Is Uncle Cutter gonna go to heaven, too, Aunt Lizabeth?”

  Elizabeth was startled by the innocent question; her eyes flew to Katie’s. Tears stung her own eyes, but she held them back, containing them with anger. “I don’t know,” she replied honestly, her voice breaking. She averted her eyes to Cutter’s chest, laying her hand upon it. She bit into her lower lip to keep from crying out loud. His breath was shallow, too shallow, and his flesh was raging with fever. Fear lodged in her throat as she turned him slightly, peering underneath his back.

  Nothing.

  His color is good, she told herself. As long as he was still feverish, he was fighting. But how could he be feverish if he’d only just been shot? She shook her head. It wasn’t possible. And then she recalled the shots that had killed O’Neill. Had Cutter been hit then, too—all those hours ago—and said nothing of it? It still didn’t make sense.

  “Katie,” she said, trying not to give in to hysteria, “turn around, sweetheart.”