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Joseph had started after his horse again when one of the dogs, who’d gone off to explore, set up a frantic baying. Logan couldn’t see the dog, but the sound came from about ninety yards back along the road, in the direction of town.
The fool dog had probably found a badger hole or scented a coyote. But Logan found himself running hard toward the sound, with Joseph passing him as they spotted the huddled figure in the moonlight.
It was Chase Calder.
“Was he with you tonight?” Logan demanded as they approached.
“No. I swear it.” Joseph flung himself down beside Webb Calder’s son. “Chase, are you okay?”
Chase was slumped next to the wagon road, with his feet in the rut. He raised his head; his face, pale in the moonlight, wore a dazed expression. “My horse,” he muttered. “Can’t find . . .” His voice trailed off as he recognized Joseph. “Are the others okay?” he asked.
“I think so,” Joseph said. “Buck rode off, and the major here dragged me away from the fight. Cully and his dad never showed up.”
“Let’s have a look at you.” Logan crouched beside the boy for a quick inspection. The only damage he could find was a red crease running from the top of his ear across his temple to the outer tip of his eyebrow, where he must have been grazed by a bullet. Logan had seen wounds like it in the war. This wasn’t good.
“How do you feel, Chase?” he asked.
“Okay, I guess. Head hurts some. Can’t walk too well. Where’s my horse? Need to get home . . . Dad’ll kill me.”
Logan gripped the boy’s shoulders. “Listen to me, Chase. I need to get you to the doctor, right now.”
“No . . . just take me home. I’ll be okay,” he argued.
“Not this time.” Logan turned to Joseph. “I’ve got to get him to town, and I’m going to need your help. Stay with him while I bring my auto. Then you’ll have to be very brave. Catch your horse and ride to the Triple C. Find Webb—or have someone find him for you. Tell him Chase has been shot and is on his way to the doctor’s. Have him meet us there. Understand?”
Joseph nodded. “Yes. But my folks—”
“They’ll be worried. But there’s no time and nobody else to do this. Stay with him. Keep him talking if you can. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Pushing his weakened leg to the limit, Logan raced back to the house, found some blankets, laid them in the auto’s rear seat, and drove back to where he’d left the boys. He found Chase lying on his side and Joseph frantic.
“I tried to keep him talking, Major, but he just slumped over like that. Now I can’t wake him up!” Joseph was on the verge of tears. “Is he dead?”
Logan checked for a pulse and found it. “No. But he needs the doctor. Now get your horse and go. Can I count on you to do this, Joseph?”
“Yes, sir.”
Logan scooped Chase into his arms and carried him to the car. Laying him on the back seat, he arranged the blankets to cushion and support the boy’s head. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat. After making sure Joseph was on his horse, he headed out as fast as he dared drive without jarring his passenger.
If he’d guessed right, the passing bullet had fractured Chase’s skull. A blood clot was forming beneath, putting pressure on his brain. Kristin would need to drill into the spot to relieve the pressure, which was increasing as the clot grew. She might have done the surgery during the war. But could she do it here? He had every confidence in her skill. But that was out of his hands. All he could do now was drive and pray.
* * *
The drive from the ranch to town seemed to take forever. By the time Logan pulled up to Kristin’s gate, night was beginning to fade from the sky, and the birds were waking in the trees. He climbed out of the auto, opened a rear door, and lifted Chase in his arms. The boy mumbled and stirred as Logan carried him up the walk to the porch. He didn’t open his eyes, but at least he was alive.
Balancing his burden with one arm, he rapped on the door with his free hand. Impatient, he tried the latch. The door was locked, but he heard a stirring from inside, and a familiar, muzzy voice.
“Hold on, I’m coming.”
He heard the click of the bolt. The door swung open to reveal Kristin in her robe, still sleepy-eyed, her dark hair half falling over her face. She stared at him, stunned into silence, but only for a moment.
“That’s Chase Calder! What’s happened to him?”
Logan stepped inside. “He’s been shot. A crease on the head, but I think—”
“Later. Get him back to my surgery.”
Logan carried him through her office and back to the immaculate room where she did procedures. The long, adjustable table was covered with a clean sheet. He laid Chase on it. Again, the boy stirred and muttered something about a horse. But his eyes remained closed.
