“Don’t you worry none about me. We’ve got it all worked out.”
“Dell,” Kate stepped out from behind him.
Noah closed his eyes, looking heavenward.
Does she never do what she’s told?
“I’m sorry it had to come to this, Katie.” Dell grabbed her by the arm, twisting her just out of Noah’s reach, and lifting her against his hip, then he motioned to the door with the barrel of his revolver.
Reluctantly, Noah turned his back to the man and headed for the cabin’s small entrance, scanning the ground and the building for anything he could use to his advantage.
Nothing. He lifted the latch on the door.
“Hold up,” Dell said, just before Noah pushed it open. “Put your hands together behind your back there, Deardon. And don’t do anything stupid.”
With a great deal of effort, Noah complied, wincing at the throbbing pain in his injured arm. He blinked back the unwitting tears that had formulated in his eyes and glanced back over his shoulder to try to catch a glimpse of Kate. Dell had her pinned up against the rough bark of the cabin’s exterior wall as he wrapped the rope around Noah’s wrists, the rough threads cutting into his flesh.
“Got yourself shot there, Deardon. Looks like a nasty wound. I’m sorry it’s gone this far, but you left us no choice.”
There it was again—the words ‘we,’ ‘us.’ Dell was not working alone. How many were there?
Kate cried out in a pain as the older man yanked her around, kicked the door open wider, and shoved them both inside the warmth of the little one-roomed cabin.
“You son of a—” Noah jerked his arms, but to no avail. He grew weaker by the minute and stumbled to the floor next to a ladder leading up to a small loft.
“Calm yourself there, Deardon.” Dell laughed. “It would be such a shame if this gun were to go off in such close proximity to Miss Callahan.”
Noah stopped struggling. Dell shoved Kate to the ground on the opposite side of him and bound her hands to his, then secured both of them to the bottom rung of the ladder. Her touch, however minute, gave him hope that they would both get out of this alive.
“Dell, please,” she pleaded. “Don’t do this.”
“I’m afraid there is nothing any of us can do to stop it now.” The old rustler grabbed a large leather pouch down from a hook near the fireplace and tin clanked against metal as he haphazardly began throwing several items from around the cabin inside it. He knelt down next to a wooden box in the corner of the room and pulled out a good-sized canvas bag bulging with what Noah suspected were coins. Maybe a payroll. Dell got to his feet and added the money to his pouch.
“What happened to Cliff, Dell?”
The foreman looked into the fire. “He got thrown from his horse. Happens all the time.” His voice was distant, eerie as he spoke. He looked away from the flames and reached down to a bucket of water that had been sitting at the edge of the hearth.
The fire hissed angrily as he doused the flames, soaking the coals.
At least he didn’t start the place on fire.
Kate’s hands moved frantically as she stretched and twisted, trying to free herself from the ropes. If she didn’t stop struggling, she would wear her wrists raw. He needed to get the knife out of his boot before she did any real damage.
“It wasn’t an accident, Dell.” Noah’s focus was beginning to diminish and he shook his head in attempt to return clarity. “I saw the burrs. An experienced cowpoke like Thomas would have never saddled his prized Arabian with briars under the blanket. Tell me what happened.” While their captor looked the other direction, Noah bent his leg up behind him.
“What makes you think I know anything about that?” Dell picked up a coat from the back of the lone chair in the room. He shoved his arms through the sleeves and slung the pouch across his shoulders.
“Dell,” Kate said quietly. “Why are you doing this? You were like family to me and my da.”
Noah could hear the pain in her voice and he wanted to just take her into his arms and soothe away her sorrows and her fears.
“Katie, I…”
A strong gust of wind blew the door open, knocking Dell forward and to his knees. The blizzard raged outside, storming the cabin with unrelenting ferocity. He bent over, grabbing the back of his head. When he slid his hands down, off his head, they were covered in blood.
“Dad blame it,” he cursed, grabbing an old rag from the edge of rusted wash basin and held it over his wound. “I have to go.”
“Dell, don’t!” Noah warned. “You’re hurt.”
“This ain’t nothing. You don’t know him like I do.”
“You’ll die out there.”
The foreman stopped, his hand holding onto the edge of the open door. “You don’t get it, do ya, Deardon? They hang men like me.”
“I’ll talk to Nate,” Kate pled loudly. “Reason with him.”
“I can’t be late.” Dell trod outside, pulling the door shut behind him.
“What is he doing, Noah? We have to stop him. He’ll die.”
“Kate,” Noah called her name, “we have to get out of these ropes.”
“I’ve tried,” she said. “Dell’s a cattle man. He knows how to tie a knot.”
“Kate,” he tried again, bending his knee even farther to get his boot as close to their hands as possible.
“What?”
“My knife…” Noah fought the weariness that threatened to overtake him. “I can’t…reach…”
“Noah?” Kate’s voice sounded distorted and low.
He couldn’t hold on any longer.
“Noah?”
Blackness surrounded him.
Chapter Fifteen
His boot.
From the awkward position he’d placed his leg, she figured that had to be where he kept his knife. Kate strained against the ropes in an attempt to reach his foot.
“Noah Deardon, don’t you dare die on me!” she yelled, yanking on his hands, trying to wake him. He didn’t stir and panic creeped in, squeezing her chest, her breaths labored and coming more rapidly.
This is not happening. I will not lose him. Not now.
Kate had never been sure she would ever be able to love again. Everyone she loved died and she did not want to face that heartache again. She bowed her head.
“Please, God,” she pleaded, “don’t take him from me.”
She sat there a moment in the stillness, not sure what she was waiting for, but somehow took comfort in the silence. Within a few minutes, the disquiet in her heart slowed and a calming peace washed over her. With a new resolve, she jerked her hands against the ladder rung and the whole ladder slid—just an inch, but it moved.
“Just a little farther, Kate!” she told herself. “Come on.” She stretched again, her fingers lightly brushing the denim material of Noah’s trousers.
He slumped over awkwardly, his leg still twisted behind him at an odd angle. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the pain she knew would ensue, and wrenched their hands against their wooden jailor. It gave just enough that she reached the hem of Noah’s trousers and slid her hands up his boot until she found the knife. Her fingers closed around the hilt and she pulled it free.
Without wasting any time, she worked at the section of rope that bound them to the ladder. Surprised by how quickly the blade sliced through the ropes, she breathed in and then out, slowing down enough that she wouldn’t end up cutting off their hands. She arranged the knife so that the metal edge leaned up against the rope between her own hands and gently moved it up and down until the bindings fell away from her wrists.
Relieved, she quickly turned around, and cut the cords restraining Noah, then readjusted his legs to lie out straight in front of him. She dropped down to him, placing her ear on his chest, watching his mouth for any indication he was still alive. His breathing was slow and staggered.
She closed her eyes in gratitude. “Thank you.”
She sprung upward, lifted her ski
rt, and cut several strips of material from her petticoat to bind the wound on his arm.
With the storm still raging outside, the room grew darker by the minute, making it nearly impossible to see him properly. Kate had to think fast. She couldn’t tell if he was still bleeding or even where the shot had penetrated exactly, so she felt for the hole in his shirt and tied one of the strips around his arm just above that location. It would have to do until she had a little more light in the room.
She’d noticed a stack of firewood in the corner of the room when they’d first entered the cabin, so she stood up, making her way there, and collected a few pieces, carrying them over to the fireplace where steam still rose from the center.
Even though Dell had doused the flames, some of the embers still glowed with heat, so she carefully arranged the logs the way her father had taught her when they’d first moved out to Laramie. She glanced around for anything she could use as kindling to reignite the fire. A small stack of disheveled papers caught her eye and she reached over and grabbed one from the top, but just as she started squeezing it together to be twisted into kindling, she thought better of it. There was a good chance that those papers contained some answers.
There was no time to inspect the documents further, but she couldn’t burn any of them without knowing their contents. She set the paper back on the top of the stack so she could take a look at it later, after she’d seen to Noah and a fire. Before thinking any more about it, she ripped the petticoat from beneath her skirt and made quick work of tearing it into several pieces that could be used to incite new flames.
The material caught fire even faster than she’d expected and she once again expressed her gratitude. With the additional light from the hearth, Kate cut away the damaged material of Noah’s sleeve and saw that the bleeding had already started to clot. She thought back to a few years ago when her brother had stepped on a sharp metal rod that had gone straight through his foot. Her mother had scrubbed it with soap and water, then doused it in vinegar to help prevent infection.
Kate scoured the little cabin, finding several jars of foodstuffs, but no vinegar. When she opened the cabinet beneath the makeshift bed, she discovered several bottles of various liquors and figured they had to be as strong as vinegar, if not more so. She grabbed a piece of her torn petticoat and opened one of the bottles, soaking the rag thoroughly.
The room warmed faster than she had expected and she wiped the perspiration from her brow as she scrubbed off what seemed like layers of both fresh and dried blood from Noah’s unexpectedly sculpted arm. Her mouth went dry as she touched his hot skin, the heat in her cheeks not coming from the fire.
He moaned quietly, but didn’t stir.
She shook her head and returned to her task.
Once she’d cleaned the sticky fluid from around the wound and could see the ridges of the hole properly, it started to bleed again, but only minimally. She placed a bowl under his arm and poured the remaining contents of the brandy bottle over the wound, then bound it with several clean cloths.
Luckily, it appeared that someone had been living in this small cabin, unbeknownst to her, for some time and it was well stocked. There were various food supplies as well as an unusually large stack of blankets, a single chair, small table, and plenty of wood for the fire. If they were going to be stuck here for any length of time, at least they wouldn’t be starving or freezing.
Dell had been staying at the bunkhouse with the others, so Kate wondered who else may have been staying here and if he would be returning. She shook her head, refusing to let fear stop her from doing what needed to be done and right now, she needed water for Noah. So, she picked up the bucket and limped to the door. When she opened it, snow still fell, but the roaring wind had died down to a breeze and the sun—though it was setting—could be seen through the storm clouds.
Thank heaven for small mercies. And big ones.
She bent down and scooped snow into her bucket from the three foot high drift that had been blown up against the door, then secured the latch behind her and hung the container on the hook in the fireplace.
Cold air slipped through the cracks in the door, so Kate kicked the old, dusty braided rug up against the opening at the bottom of the door and stuffed the space between the hinges with a sheet that had been tossed over the corner of the bed.
She looked down at her patient lying on the floor. There was no way she would be able to lift a man Noah’s size up onto the straw-filled mattress that topped the bed scrunched into the corner of the room, so Kate grabbed an armful of blankets from the shelf above a closet with its doors hanging off its hinges, and prepared a makeshift bed on the ground.
Once the chilly floor was adequately covered, Kate knelt down to the side of Noah and attempted to roll him over onto the blankets. It wasn’t quite as simple as she’d thought it would be, and she spent the next several minutes trying to get him situated when he finally stirred enough that he rolled himself over and onto the warmth of the blankets.
Whew.
Kate rolled up a quilt to place beneath his knees, a smaller one for his head, then she tucked a coverlet up around his shoulders and neck, so he would stay warm. She’d done all she could think of to help him. Now, she’d just have to wait. And waiting had never been one of her strong suits.
Before long, she had a nice broth simmering over the fire and Noah appeared to be resting peacefully. If he didn’t wake soon, though…
Stop it, Katie Callahan. He’s going to be fine. He has to be.
Chapter Sixteen
Noah awoke to little paws kneading his chest. A loud purr pulled him from his cumbersome dreams, and he opened one eye to inspect the small, white and fawn-colored fluffy ball of fur nuzzling into his warmth. His hand rested in a curved position against his ear and face where the kitty had taken to suckling his fingertips.
“Where did you come from, little one?” he spoke to the wide-eyed kitten that had seen fit to snuggle up against him. He randomly thought of how much his nephews, Max and Gil, and even little Owen, would have loved having a little kitten to feed and play with back home, but doubted Emma would appreciate it much.
Noah blinked a few times, the reality of what had happened last night striking him with a force that nearly knocked him from the bed and he tried to sit up. Bad idea. The whole cabin seemed to swirl around inside his weighted head and darkness threatened the perimeter of his vision. He lay back down, forcing himself to focus on a single log in the rafters, and within a matter of moments, the crisp clarity of morning returned.
The kitten burrowed his head beneath Noah’s hands, which now rested on his chest. There was no way such a young one could have survived the storm and he wondered where the animal had been hiding that would have muffled his surprisingly vocal ramblings.
“Where’s your mama?” he asked in a voice higher pitched than usual.
“Meow,” the kitten spoke loudly as if in response, confirming Noah’s suspicion that he was hungry.
He waited a few more minutes until the grogginess had passed and propped himself up on his elbows, his arm stiff and achy. He scratched the kitten’s head and laughed as the baby cat nudged his face with its nose.
“I’m trying,” Noah laughed softly, basking in the light that came through the small window.
The storm had lifted, that much was apparent. A light chill blanketed the cabin and he glanced at the hearth still aglow with little red and orange cinders. They were safe. For the moment.
Kate.
The thought of his soon-to-be bride, pushed him up. He gritted his teeth as he held the kitty close to his chest, careful not to crush the fragile little thing. Kate must have been up most of the night, keeping the fire warm, and watching over him.
He found her sitting up against the wall, her legs straight out in front of her on the bed in the corner, with a blanket wrapped up around her shoulders, her eyes closed. She’d been brave. And she’d even shown kindness to a man undeserving of her compassion.
> “I’m a very lucky man,” he whispered into the air.
The sunlight played with the golden highlights in the otherwise dark waves of Kate’s hair, creating an ethereal glow about her. She was simply breathtaking—easily the most beautiful sight he had ever lain eyes on.
Lord, thank you for getting us through the night.
Noah didn’t know what the day would hold for them, but he knew they would face it together.
As he rolled off the makeshift mattress, he was amazed at Kate’s resourcefulness. Not only had she managed to bandage his arm, but somehow, she’d gotten the blankets beneath him. She’d saved his life—there was no doubt. Now, it was his turn to take care of her. He set the kitten down on the ground and the little thing darted from one section of the enclosed room to the other, exploring.
Noah laughed as he walked over to the bed, placed his hand behind her head, and gently guided her down to the mattress. She opened her eyes, one at a time, and smiled.
“You are a sight for sore eyes,” she said, tiredly.
He leaned down and placed a light kiss on her lips. He couldn’t help himself.
“Thank you,” he said in a whisper, and forced himself away from her. “Get some rest. I don’t know how long we’ll have to stay out here. We’ll never be able to tread back in the snow with you still limping on that foot.”
Unsure of what he would find outside, he grabbed one of the blankets and draped it around his shoulders before opening the door. Why he’d neglected to put on his coat before the drive up here was beyond him. It was probably frozen solid in the back of the buckboard.
“Hopefully, Levi and Eamon will know where to look for us.” Noah told her, smiling when he glanced at her and found that she had fallen back asleep.
Good.
He had to believe that his cousin and friend had made it back to the homestead safely and without incident. Rustlers rarely worked alone and if there were more of them out there, no one would be safe until they were caught.
The Deardons Complete Mini-Series Page 31