"Shhhh, Jes. For God's sake, don't scream."
"Ned." Jessica lowered the poker and stared at the small man standing in the full light of the moon. "What in the world are you doing sneaking around out there? Why didn't you just knock?"
"Lower your voice, Jes," Ned whispered. "Don't wake up Tobias."
"He's dead to the world, Ned," she whispered in return. "But Prudence is sleeping restlessly."
"Too restlessly for you to get your things and slip out, Jes?"
"I don't know. What's going on?"
"We need your help, Jes. I'm afraid that man out there's going to bleed to death if you don't come. I had a medicine kit in my saddlebags, but nothing Elias or I did seemed to help. I know Mattie taught you something about nursing bullet wounds."
"You found the man Tobias shot? You found Storm."
"That's his name, all right. At least that's what Elias says."
"Where are the horses?"
"Cinnabar's still in the corral, Jes. You'll have to catch and saddle him. You know he won't stand still for me."
"Wait for me there, Ned. I'll find some way to slip into the room and get my clothes."
Prudence's eyes opened the moment Jessica slipped inside the bedroom door.
"Shhhh," Jessica said unnecessarily before catching the incongruity of the sound. She shook her head, then sat down on the side of the bed to take Prudence's hand in her own.
""Ned's back, Prudence. Oh, I forgot, you haven't met him. He's my friend, and he went with Elias a while ago. You do know Elias Gant, don't you?"
The glow of the moon coming in the window showed Prudence's eyes lighting up and a smile curving her lips.
"They came here with me to tell you and Tobias about Eloise, Prudence," Jessica continued in a whisper. "And when Tobias told us he had shot Storm, Ned and Elias went out to look for him. Ned says they've found him and he's hurt. I know a little about nursing the injured and Ned wants me to come help them."
Prudence sat up and grabbed Jessica by the shoulders. Her throat muscles worked. "Huh...huh...."
"Shush. I will, Prudence. I'll help your Storm. At least, I'll do everything I can. But right now, you have to let me get my clothes and go. I'll leave a note for your brother on the table and tell him Ned and Elias couldn't find Storm. I'll...oh, he probably won't believe that Ned just came back for me and we left in the dark to go back to town, but I don't have time to think of a better excuse. I'll see you in town tomorrow. All right?"
Prudence pulled Jessica close and hugged her briefly before she dropped her arms and rose from the bed. Taking Jessica's riding skirt from the nail where it hung, she held it out to her.
Once Jessica was dressed, Prudence held her arms out again. Jessica pulled the girl into her embrace and laid her cheek against Prudence's. A second later, she slipped out the bedroom door, holding her boots in her hand. The door even cooperated, she found herself thinking with a smile. It didn't even squeak.
"Think you can find it now, Jes?" Ned asked as he pulled his horse up near the crest of a ridge.
"Of course, Ned. Why, we're almost half way back to town and I always was good at remembering the country we crossed."
"Good. Then I'll get goin'. Hope there's enough darkness left for us to do this."
"It's only about midnight, Ned. But you'll have to ride hard. I don't see how you're going to get a wagon out here without someone from town seeing you, though."
"I ain't worried about that, Jes. I'm worried 'bout getting it back into town."
Ned nudged his gelding and left her sitting in the darkness.
Not waiting until Ned's hoofbeats faded, Jessica urged Cinnabar down the hillside, trusting to his sure-footedness in the darkness. At least they had crossed most of the rugged country getting here. She didn't have to worry as much about Cinnabar stumbling in the grassy valley she rode across. She glanced upward gratefully at the full moon.
Soon the light of a small fire glowed in the distance. As Jessica approached the fire, Cinnabar cocked his ears upright and stopped. The stallion turned his head to one side and Jessica heard a whisper.
"Jessica? Is that you?"
"It's me," she called back in answer to Elias's voice.
Elias stepped out from behind a sheltering rock. "Thought it was, but I wanted to be sure. Come on. He's over here."
A moment later, Jessica knelt by the blanket wrapped figure beside the fire and gave a start of recognition at the same time as her heart twisted in agony. The night sounds receded around her, enclosing her and the man in a cocoon of silence.
Storm. She could finally put a name to the face that had haunted her dreams. Storm. Elias's friend Storm was the man who had set her senses blazing the night before they came into Baker's Valley. Storm had been the man who kept her from dying in agony from a rattlesnake's bite.
The deathly pale face lying on the blanket belonged to the man she had tried without success to push from her mind. Unconsciously, her hand went out to caress his wane cheek. Her fingers encountered a frightening coldness and she stifled a gasp of alarm.
Oh, God, she prayed silently, please don't let this wonderful man be dying.
Jessica drew her hand back guiltily. Storm. Prudence's Storm. The man Prudence loved, despite her brother's hatred of the man. How could she let herself remember the wonder she felt in this man's arms when he belonged to the poor mute girl she had left back at the little cabin?
Her face narrowed in a frown. And how could he hold her and kiss her that way when he had another woman in his life?
Elias's voice broke into her thoughts. "We've got to do something fast, Jessica."
The world crashed back around Jessica, shattering the mixture of wonder and concern holding her in its grip. But she couldn't quite stop herself from just once more laying her hand on the cold cheek. She brought her fingers up through the silky hair, pushing it back from his face. Drawing her hand back, she gazed down at it in puzzlement as she rubbed a small ball of something sticky between her thumb and forefinger.
"Jessica," Elias said insistently, finally galvanizing Jessica into action.
Jessica hurriedly wiped her fingers on her skirt and looked up at Elias. "The bullet. Where did it hit?" she demanded.
"It's high on his shoulder. Here. I'll show you."
When Elias pulled back the blanket, Jessica caught her breath at the sight of the blood-soaked bandage. She forced her fingers to reach out and begin to unwrap it.
"A shot like this shouldn't kill a man, Jessica," Elias said. "It's the bleeding. He's bleeding to death."
"The bullet's still in there, that's why," Jessica told him in a shaking voice. "It's going to have to come out before the bleeding will stop."
"Have you ever taken out a bullet?"
"Not by myself," she said tightly. "I helped Mattie once when one of our hands shot himself by accident while cleaning a supposedly empty gun. God, I hope I can remember what she did. Do you have a knife, Elias?"
"Yes, but...."
"Put it in the fire to heat the blade. We may have to cauterize this when we get the bullet out."
"Oh, lord," Elias breathed.
Jessica ignored him and stared down at the angry, black-fringed hole on Storm's shoulder. The blood only seeped out now, but it would probably be pouring again by the time she dug out the bullet. Her stomach lurched. She hoped he hadn't lost too much blood already to withstand the loss of any more.
"Do you have water, Elias? And a pail?"
"Yes. Ned and I cleaned him up before, but the blood just came back."
Jessica turned and dug in the medicine kit. "Here." She handed Elias the bullet probe. "Put this in the water and boil it."
Without waiting to see if he complied, Jessica removed a bottle of antiseptic from the kit. She snorted in disgust at the lightness of the bottle and, holding it up to the firelight, found it empty. She dropped it and bent her head over the pack again, fingers groping until they encountered another bottle. Smiling in satisfaction, she pulled out a brown jug.
"Whiskey," she said to no one in particular. "It'll do just as well. It's a good thing he's unconscious, though."
But the moment she poured a measure of whiskey over the wound, Storm lurched and gasped. Black, pain-filled eyes stared up into Jessica's face. He clamped white, even teeth over his lower lip to stifle his groan of agony, but it rumbled in his chest anyway.
"Storm, I'm sorry," Jessica said as she laid a comforting hand against his cheek. "The bullet's still in there, and we have to sanitize the wound so I can get it out."
Storm covered her hand with his own and held it tightly when she would have pulled away.
"Pretty lady," he whispered. "Is it you? Or are you a ghost?"
Jessica laughed softly, though it took every bit of effort she could manage to rearrange her jumbled thoughts. The pleasure racing up her arm from his touch shook her to the core. How could she feel this way about a man lying wounded — perhaps dying — beside her?
"You were supposed to be the ghost, Storm. Remember?"
"I remember, pretty lady. And I guess you must be alive. I sure as hell wouldn't have ended up in Heaven if I were dead."
"Don't say that."
Elias knelt beside Jessica. "Do you two know each other?" he asked in astonishment.
"Do we, pretty lady?" Storm's black eyes remained caught in the web flowing between the two of them. "You seem to have found out my name. Shouldn't I know yours?" he asked, though he full well knew the answer.
"It...it's Jessica. Jessica Callaghan."
"Jessica."
Never had she heard her name said so tenderly before. She nodded.
"I hope they don't call you Jes," Storm said. "It doesn't suit my pretty lady at all."
Jessica laughed shakily and pulled her hand free. "Well, they do," she said. "And sometimes Jes suits me just fine. Now, you stay quiet and save your strength. This isn't going to be easy for either one of us."
"I'll save what strength I can, Jessica. But I can't promise to stay quiet when you start digging for that bullet. Hand me a piece of wood to bite on."
Elias reached behind him and picked up a piece of wood suitable for Storm to hold between his teeth. He glanced at the fire as he handed it to Storm.
"The water's boiling, Jessica," he told her.
Jessica stilled Storm's hand when he started to put the wood in his mouth. "Here." Picking up the whisky bottle, she held it out. "You better drink some of this first."
When Storm tried to raise his head, Jessica quickly slipped an arm behind his neck to assist him. She smiled down at him as his eyes thanked her for a second, but his head wobbled weakly and she shifted so she could pull his head against her breast. Lifting the bottle, she placed it against his lips.
"Do you need some help, Jessica?" Elias asked.
"No. I can manage."
Lord, she wished she could hold him like this for the rest of the night. She didn't want anyone intruding on the sweet wonder filling her as she held him close. Shaking her head to clear it, Jessica forced herself to remember Storm's wounded condition. She held the bottle up again and urged him to take another swallow.
As soon as Storm complied, he went limp in her arms. She immediately set the whiskey bottle down, then gently lowered him to the blanket. After she brushed back a raven tress, she looked over at Elias.
"He's passed out again. It will be easier on him this way."
"No," Storm whispered. "I'm not out, just weak. But go ahead."
Jessica nodded and forced her strangely reluctant fingers to dig into the medicine pack again. She pulled out some clean bandages and a pair of tongs to fish into the water pail for the bullet probe when Elias held the pail out to her. Laying the probe down on a piece of clean cloth, she allowed it to cool for a moment.
"Do you want some more whiskey?" she asked Storm.
He only shook his head, gritting his teeth at the pain the movement caused.
Jessica steeled herself and picked up the probe. It was still too warm, and she quickly dropped it onto the stack of bandages. She wrapped the top one around the handle and caught her lower lip between her teeth as she reached for the broad shoulder.
What seemed like an hour later — but could only have been five or ten minutes — Jessica stared down unbelievingly at Storm. His eyes, though half shuttered in pain, still remained open. The firelight reflecting in the ebony depths left no doubt as to that. She watched him take the stick from his mouth and hold it instead of tossing it aside.
"Are you going to have to cauterize it?" he asked in a surprisingly steady voice.
"I...I don't think so," she replied with a shake of her sable curls. "It doesn't seem to be bleeding that much. I think I can stop it now with a pressure bandage."
"Good." He flung the stick aside. "Then do it. I've got to get out of here."
"You can't ride!" Jessica said with a gasp.
"I have to," he returned flatly.
"He's right about that, Jessica," Elias confirmed. "If he can't ride at least a ways, we'll never get him back to town before daylight. I told Ned we'd meet the wagon part way."
"I'm not going into town!" Storm said emphatically.
"You're not going to have much choice, friend," Elias informed him sternly. "If you think I'm going to leave you out here injured and alone, you've got another think coming. Idalee would have my hide."
"I can't. Elias...."
"You know as well as I do that no one will see us bring you in, Storm. But we've got to get moving. Jessica, can I help you hold him while you bandage that wound?"
"Please, Elias. But I'm still not sure the ride won't kill him."
"He's tougher than you think, Jessica," Elias said enigmatically. "He's had to be."
Storm proved the truth of Elias's words. It took both of them to get him to his feet, though, and Jessica believed they never could have gotten him on the horse if not for the well trained paint. At Storm's command, the horse knelt on his front legs and allowed Storm to lean on his neck while Elias helped lift Storm into the saddle.
"Better tie my legs under me, Elias," Storm said around the pain shooting through him. "I'm not promising not to pass out."
As Elias complied, Jessica scattered the ashes of the small fire and poured the remaining water over the embers. Moments later, the trio made their way through the darkness in the direction of Baker's Valley.
Twice over the next hour and a half, Jessica had to call Elias back to Storm's side from where he rode ahead of them. Each time Storm would sway dangerously in the saddle, she would unthinkingly urge Cinnabar close to help him regain his balance. The paint stallion would lay his ears back and shy away from what it considered a challenge by the roan stud. However, the paint allowed Elias's mare close.
The second time, she asked Elias if perhaps she should ride behind Storm to steady him.
"Can't," Storm answered her through teeth gritted in agony. "Won't...won't carry double."
"Is there any whiskey left, Jessica?" Elias asked.
Jessica turned in her saddle and pulled the whiskey bottle out of the medicine pack to hand it to Elias. She watched Storm remove one hand from its death grip on his saddlehorn and take a long swallow from the bottle. Then another.
"Better go easy with that, my friend," Elias said dryly. "You'll be swaying in something other than pain."
Storm's paint threw its head up and Elias barely managed to catch the whiskey bottle when Storm dropped it to grab the saddlehorn again.
"Someone's coming," Jessica said, heart in her throat. Both men had made it extremely clear they wanted to encounter no one as they tried to get back to town before daybreak.
"Shhhh," Elias said. "Listen."
Jessica looked over Cinnabar's head, between the ears pointed alertly in the direction ahead of them. A faint jingle met her ears, then a creak of what could have been a wagon wheel in need of grease.
"Ned. Elias, it has to be Ned."
"Probably is," Elias agreed. "But you two stay here while I check."
As soon as Elias disappeared, Jessica saw Storm slump over the paint's neck. She gasped, then slid from Cinnabar's back and dropped his reins to ground tie him.
The paint had no qualms about the woman, standing patiently when she approached. Storm's head lay against the paint's black mane, his silky hairs intermingling with the coarser ones. She gently pushed back the locks hanging down over his face.
"Storm. Storm, it won't be long now. I'm sure that's Ned."
Storm opened his eyes and brought his arm up slowly to capture the back of her head. Whiskey fumes blew around Jessica's face when he spoke.
"Pretty lady. You know, I like that name for you almost as much as Jessica."
He hiccuped loudly and Jessica cut off the giggle in her throat abruptly.
"Shhhh. We have to stay quiet, just in case that isn't Ned."
Her hand caressed the silky locks under her palm. How could a man have such wondrously soft, thick hair? How would it feel under her fingers, thick with lather while she washed it?
Another loud hiccup gave Jessica a start.
"Storm. Shhhh. You've got to quit that."
"S'know how to do it," he said as he nodded his head against the paint's mane. "G...gotta hold s'your breath."
"Then hold it, Storm."
"Need some help." He pulled her head closer to him. "Help me, pretty lady."
Jessica had no doubt as to what he meant. Well, she did have to get him quiet, didn't she? She tilted her head back slightly and allowed his lips to cover hers.
He kissed her softly, gently, yearningly. Oh, so yearningly. She could sense the violent longing in him and it found an answer in her own mind. His hand caressed her sable curls and their lips clung, loosened slightly, clung fully once more.
No fiery passion sparked between them this time — only that tender longing. Jessica wanted to ease not only the pain from his wound, but also the deep shadows that sometimes turned his eyes such a dark ebony. At the same time, she surrendered to the ever-close-to-the-surface desire to touch him, stroking the stubble-covered cheek.
The sound of the approaching wagon broke into their drugged senses, but Storm pulled her back once more when she broke contact with him. He kissed her deeply again for a second, then his head fell limp against the paint's mane.
Jessica's eyes filled with worry and she shook his shoulder gently. "Storm. Storm!" She stepped back from the paint and called toward the wagon, "Hurry. Please hurry, Ned. He's passed out again."
They managed to settle Storm in the wagon bed finally — it took all three of them, the two slight men and one slight woman — and Jessica hitched Cinnabar to the back before she climbed in herself.
"Good idea, Jes," Ned said with a nod. "He might come to and need you. It's gonna be a jolting ride, 'cause the springs under this old thing ain't the best. I didn't have time to check anything out. I just grabbed the furthest one from the livery and snuck a couple horses out."
"Oh, Ned. What if they arrest you for horse theft when you bring them back?"
"I left a note and a five dollar gold piece on the desk, Jes, but I figure on gettin' back and retrieving it before they open. I don't want to have to explain why I needed this wagon in the dark. Never could tell, though. Something might break down and I didn't want them to think I stole it or the horses. I'll think of something, if we don't get back in time."
"Well, we better get moving." Jessica settled herself by Storm's head and drew it into her lap. "It's still a couple hours before daybreak, but you're right about the fact that something could still happen."
It didn't. The ride went as smoothly as possible. In the light from the full moon, Ned made his way around most of the holes in the trail. Elias rode ahead and pointed out the easiest traveling.
Both their eyes missed one hole, though, and Storm groaned and opened his eyes when the wagon jolted over it.
Jessica quickly felt the bandage on his shoulder, detecting no warmth from new blood seeping through it. She picked up the whiskey bottle Elias had placed by her side and held Storm's head up so he could swallow more of the pain-dulling medicine.
Then she wished she hadn't. He began singing to her — muttering almost unintelligibly, really, but with a musical lilt to the words. She made out something about Heaven, a pretty lady, a fireplace. Kids? Did he sing something about kids?
The wagon jerked to a stop and Jessica's head came up. She frowned as she looked around her. They were beside the rocky place in the trail where she had encountered the snake. Why had Ned stopped out here so far yet from town?
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