AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Damn.” Daniel’s insides went watery. A lung shot meant the wound could prove fatal. “I need to get you to a doctor.”
“Can’t. Home.” Rafael straightened in the saddle. “Doctor won’t do anything Ma can’t do.”
If he took Rafael to the doctor in Stockton—likely the same doctor the men his brother had shot would see—the jig would be up. Everyone would know Rafe was the man who held up the stagecoach.
Besides, until recently there hadn’t been any doctors around. Men healed or they didn’t. A few years back when one of their vaqueros had been thrown from his horse, he’d broken ribs and been spitting blood the way Rafael was. Madre had wrapped his ribs and kept him in his bed. He’d been as good as new in a month. A doctor couldn’t do any more. Trying to get Rafael to San Francisco and a doctor who didn’t know him would likely aggravate the injury Rafael had.
Glancing over his shoulder, Daniel didn’t see any sign of pursuit, but they couldn’t wait around. He would have to patch Rafe up enough that he could make it home—fast.
He drew up alongside his brother. “Is anything broken?”
Rafael moved his shoulder in a small circle. “Doesn’t...seem so.”
Daniel tugged off the stupid poncho Rafael had thrown at him just before stealing his rifle and galloping off this morning. He wished he hadn’t followed or that he’d turned back sooner.
He should have lassoed him, would have, if he’d had any idea that Rafe would stop the stage as if he were robbing it. When Rafael had tugged his poncho over his face, he should have realized.
Using his bowie knife, Daniel hacked the bright material into strips and knotted a makeshift bandage around his brother’s shoulder. Then he tied Rafe to the saddle, just in case he passed out. That his brother didn’t protest knotted Daniel’s neck.
“We have to go,” said Daniel. He scanned the horizon, looking for a dip or a cluster of trees and shrubs that would indicate a waterway. They were at least twenty miles from the edge of their ranch. Making sure they didn’t leave tracks leading straight back would make it thirty, but the detour had to be taken.
He took the other horse’s bridle, headed toward what looked like the best possibility and prayed that no one would come across them.
Hours later, they finally drew their horses to a halt in front of the house, and Daniel dismounted. Fortunately, their hands were all out on the north range with the cattle.
Rafael was trying to untie himself, coughing. He’d said next to nothing for the past hour they’d run the horses toward the ranch. His face was chalky, but he’d held his own for miles and miles of hard riding.
“Madre!” Daniel shouted.
He untied Rafael. Dismounting, Rafael collapsed. Daniel staggered under his brother’s solid weight.
“Madre!” Daniel shouted again. “I need your help.”
Rafael opened his mouth, but ended up coughing again. He gestured and they turned to step onto the long wooden deck.
“I am cooking. Do not shout at me,” their mother retorted.
Rafael pointed at his chest and then raised his hand toward their house. “Tell...her.”
Daniel steered his brother, who was now weaving like a drunk. “Ma, Rafael’s hurt.”
Their mother appeared in the open doorway, her dark eyes open wide. She took one look at her older son and ran forward to help. Her footsteps shook the planks under their feet. “What happened?”
“He’s been shot,” said Daniel.
“What did you do, Daniel Werner?”
“I kept him from being killed,” Daniel told her, not that he expected his mother to appreciate that fact.
“How could you let him get shot? On the day his bride comes?” demanded Madre.
“Leave him ’lone, Ma,” said Rafael. “Not his fault.”
Their mother narrowed her eyes and glared at Daniel. In his younger days, he would have expected the paddle when she looked at him like that. Now he was just tired of everything being his fault. Defending himself to his mother was just wasted breath. He’d stopped trying years ago.
“Let’s just get him inside. You’ll need to plug the hole in him and get him bandaged up.”
“You’ll have to get Anna.” Rafael panted.
“No.” He couldn’t go get Anna. The moment when they had locked eyes crowded out his other thoughts. For that one minute all the rest of the world had melted away, and he could see nothing but her. Her image was seared into his brain.
Daniel shivered.
His brother’s bride had gotten a good look at him, too, the best look at him of anyone on the stage. Granted, he’d pulled the poncho up to his eyes, but if anyone would recognize him, it would be her.
“She can’t know,” Rafael groaned.
“Why not? Daniel, what is going on?” Madre likely would have put her hands on her ample hips if she weren’t helping to support Rafael.
“Tried to stop stage,” said Rafael.
“Why would you do that?” She lapsed into Spanish, calling on the saints and muttering indignations.
“He wanted to see Miss O’Malley. But people who stop stages are generally robbers.” Daniel glared at his brother.
“Did you do nothing to stop them, Daniel?”
“He...tried,” huffed Rafael.
His brother’s shortness of breath worried Daniel.
Madre shot him a dark look as they maneuvered Rafael through the doorway. “It was just a misunderstanding.”
“There was a gunfight,” Daniel said. “I don’t think anyone is going to call it a misunderstanding.”
“You shot at people?” screeched Madre, but she was looking at Daniel.
Rafael met his eyes, and Daniel closed his.
“No, Ma. Daniel didn’t shoot at all,” Rafael said and then stopped to pull in some breaths. “I did.”
“You would not defend your brother?” she demanded of Daniel.
“God, Ma.” Daniel tensed and then lowered his voice. He had no idea where the girl who helped Madre about the house was. She might be in earshot, although he hadn’t seen her. “It wasn’t my intention to help him stop a stagecoach. Now we can’t let Miss O’Malley know, or who knows what she’ll do.”
“Listen to him, Ma.” Rafael heaved in a whistling breath. “’S right. Anna can’t find out.”
“Oh, my poor angel.” Madre stroked Rafael’s hair.
All the way home, Daniel had just been thinking he had to get Rafael home before he collapsed, but now a hell of a lot more problems had to be dealt with.
“No one can know that it was Rafael, Ma. Otherwise they might arrest him.” Of course, he’d be arrested, too. And they’d both be hanged. Daniel’s throat tightened as if a noose were already strangling him.
“Go...get her...late,” mumbled Rafael. “If no one...”
If no one picked her up, people might wonder what was amiss. If even a whiff of suspicion came their way, they might suspect Rafael had something to do with the gunfight. It wasn’t fair that a lot of the new white settlers looked down on people of Spanish descent, but they did. He would have to go get Miss O’Malley. And Rafe was right; it had taken them so long to get back, he’d be late.
“Did they see your horses?” asked Madre. “You will have to get rid of them. Shoot them.”
A shudder ran down Daniel’s back.
He looked out at the winded animals that had galloped their hearts out getting them home. His mount bore a white blaze on its forehead and the single stocking on its back leg made it identifiable, and even though Rafael’s horse was a solid dun, the color was unusual enough to stand out. “I’m not shooting the horses.”
“Then you will get your brother hanged over a misunderstanding.” Madre glared at him. “You will shoot the horses.”
“Because that wouldn’t be a dead giveaway that we were involved,” muttered Daniel. She couldn’t be serious.
“You will do as I say,” Madre hissed.
“Ma,” Rafael protested on a puff of air. His voice was too faint. Madre turned her attention back to her favorite son.
“We just need to take care of Rafe.” Daniel steered his brother through the door, bearing most of Rafael’s weight.
“You still have to get rid of the horses,” she said.
Madre was right. The horses had to go, but he wasn’t shooting the poor animals.
“I’ll set them loose in the hills. I’ll tell the sheriff and your—” Daniel found himself unable to say bride for some strange reason “—your Miss O’Malley that the horses were stolen overnight, and you’re out tracking the horse thieves. That’ll explain why I’m picking her up and provide cover if anyone recognized our horses.”
“Good thinking,” Rafael murmured.
They passed through the long front section of the house into the open courtyard. “Get him patched up enough to hide his injury. Plus Miss O’Malley will need her own room.”
