Sheila came closer holding the lantern high.
“Is he…?”
“Gone.”
Silence settled heavily between them.
Finally she whispered, “Six men.”
She looked around the moonlit meadow, visibly shaken.But there was no longer any shock in her voice.She simply sounded...well, heartsick.
Suddenly, Caleb regretted that this was the first thing Doc Burnett’s daughter had seen of Colorado.
“If you could gather the horses,” he said quietly, “I’ll get these men loaded up, and we’ll head back to town.”
“Of course,” she answered softly.
Then she looked up at him again.
“I still don’t understand how a man survives with this much violence around him.”
That landed differently than before.No condemnation in it.Just honest confusion — the kind that deserved an honest answer.
Caleb looked away toward the dark mountains.
“Most days,” he admitted quietly, “you just keep moving and hope the next stretch of road’s a little better.”
Something in her expression softened then.
Not trust exactly.But the place where trust might take root, given time.
A cold breeze swept across the meadow.
Sheila shivered.That canvas duster she had on wasn’t enough in the mountains.
Without really thinking about it, Caleb shrugged off his coat and handed it to her.“You’ll freeze before we make Elkhorn otherwise.”
She hesitated.“And what about you?”
“I’ve had colder nights.”
For a moment she simply stared at him, surprised.
Then slowly, she accepted the coat.“Thank you, Mr.Marlowe.”
Caleb gave a brief nod and turned toward the bodies lying beneath the silver moon, uneasy with the thought that Doc Burnett's sharp-eyed daughter had already gotten further past his guard than six, armed rustlers ever had.
ChapterThree
Doc Burnettcarefully peeled away the surgical gauze covering the woman’s wound.The operation had gone as well as could be expected under the circumstances.Holding the lantern closer, he examined the injury above her right breast.
The skin around the bullet hole was swollen and angry red, but so far there was no sign of infection.
That, at least, was something to be grateful for.
Only a few hours had passed since he’d removed the bullet and closed the wound, and now her life rested as much in Providence’s hands as his own.
If her luck held, she’d live.For now.But with these killers holding them prisoner, he didn’t know for how long.The odds weren’t too good that he’d survive this either.
