SOMETIME BEFORE DAWN, TY MOANED, and tossed around on the makeshift bed.

She stopped, took the canteen of willow bark tea and managed to get him to swallow some before he drifted off again. She knelt beside him, bathing his face with a piece of her shirt. “Don’t you die on me, Tyler Roundtree. Don’t you dare.”

Startled by a noise behind her, she jumped and grabbed the rifle. Heart pounding, she stood beside Ty’s immobile body and looked around. Shadows danced in the breeze that carried with it the smell of cow manure, sage and pine. The crack of a breaking limb had her spinning left, rifle aimed toward the sound. A single Longhorn, its impressive rack spanning six feet across, wandered out of the brush. He stopped and glanced at her before swishing his tail and ambling off toward the creek.

Weak with relief, she sat down and rested her head on the travois pole. Who did this? And why? Once you are home, we can figure it out.

It took monumental effort to drag herself back into the saddle and move forward, the only thing driving her was the need to get him help.

Delirious with fever, Ty moaned off and on throughout the day but did not wake.

Mind numb with fatigue and fear, she stopped several times to bath his face, and force more of the tea down, refusing to think it may already be too late.

By late afternoon, she was all but asleep in the saddle, so exhausted she had difficulty staying seated.

When Henry suddenly appeared beside her, she swallowed hard and bit back the tears.

They were safe.

The next five days were a blur as she tended Ty’s wounds, bathed his heated flesh with cool water, and prayed he would survive. She never left their room, using the chamber pot when nature called, depending on Lupe to bring her meals and the hands to do what needed to be done around the ranch.

She dipped the rag, rung it out slightly, and pressed it to his burning skin. “Please wake up, Ty,” she whispered, “please.”

Henry tapped on the door. “Any change?”

She shrugged. “The fever was worse yesterday and last night. He was out of his head most of the time, calling for you and others.” She didn’t mention laying on top of him to keep him on the bed or how he cried for people only he could see to watch out or duck or how he cried out for his mother. And begged someone named Jennie to forgive him.

She cried with him, tried to soothe him with soft words and gentle touches. At last, he rested, albeit fitfully. “I’m not sure but I think his fever is going down some now and he swallows the medicine I give him.” She shook her head. “But he won’t wake up.”

“You need to get some rest, Emma. Sarah made me promise I would run you out for a while so you could.”

Even before he finished, she shook her head. “No. I want to be here when he wakes up.”

“At least go down and get something to eat, and talk to Rafe. He’s worried sick about you both.”

Mention of her father made her flinch. She had not thought of him once during this ordeal and conceded he would be worried. “Of course.”

She swayed when she stood and Henry steadied her. “You’re dead on your feet, Emma. You need to rest.”

She dropped the rag in the bowl and headed for the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Ty struggled against the darkness encasing him, willing the pain to stop. He wanted to know the owner of the soft voice invading his dreams, but every time he tried to wake, the blackness pulled him back. He made progress, though, able to hold off the gloom longer each time.

Something sliced its way through the haze of pain and shadows. Voices? Henry maybe? Or the woman. Images tossed around by his addled mind were nothing more than bits and pieces that overlapped and blended together, their edges jagged and uneven, like some kind of weird patchwork quilt, and made no sense at all. He pushed against the misery, fighting to rouse himself.

His eyelids weighed a ton, and it took tremendous effort to lift them even a slit. Sunlight streamed in through a window to his right. He slowly turned his head toward it, groaning when the movement caused the pain in his head to intensify. Sonofabitch!

“Well, there you are. About damn time.”

He struggled to open his eyes, grimacing at the scratchiness, he blinked several times and tried to bring his friend in focus. He gave up and closed his eyes. “What happened?”

Henry moved the chair closer to the bed and sat. “Doc got the bullets out but infection had already set in.” He ducked his head and blew out a long breath. “If they hadn’t found you when they did, you would’ve died.”

Ty tried to concentrate on what he said but the effort made his head pound. “I was shot?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No.” He took a ragged breath. “How long I been out?”

“Off and on for eight days.”

His eyes jerked open, then squinted at the bright light. “Eight days?”

Henry nodded, reached for the brown bottle on the table and poured a small amount of liquid in a spoon. “I’m under orders to make sure you get this. Supposed to help with the pain and the fever. I’m just glad you’re awake to take it. It’s a bitch trying to get you to swallow when you were out of your head most of the time.”

“Water first. I’d probably choke on it right now.”

Henry helped him drink and gave him the medication.

Each beat of his heart felt like a bomb exploding in his head. If that sour tasting shit would help, he’d drink a gallon.

He lay back down, eyes closed. “Tell me.”

Henry quickly relayed the events of the last week. “She wasn’t happy when I said we didn’t find you and took off to look herself.”

His brow furrowed as he tried to absorb what Henry said. “Sarah did that?” He couldn’t imagine why Henry would let his pregnant wife take off looking for him.

“No, not Sarah, Emma.”

“W—”

“Oh thank God! You’re awake at last!”

Ty squinted at the vision in blue as she hurried forward and placed the food tray she carried on a dresser.

She hastened over and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling his hand in hers. Her smile was radiant. Something about it…

“I was so worried.” She clasped his hand gently, rubbing the knuckles with her thumb. “Why didn’t you call me? You knew I wanted to be here when he woke up.” She directed the question to Henry but never took her eyes off him.

The throbbing intensified to the point he expected his head would explode at any moment. Breath hissing through clenched teeth, he eased his hand from hers and watched as the smile disappeared, highlighting dark circles of fatigue under bewildered emerald eyes.

“Who are you?” he whispered.