Nevada Nights Read Free

hair. When he had first spotted the slim figure on the horse, he had thought it was a young boy. Close up, despite the ill-fitting clothes, he realized she was an extraordinarily beautiful girl.
    "We’ll need a wagon," he said abruptly. "Where’s the nearest place?"
    Without looking up, she replied, "The convent." She motioned with her head. "Over the hill back there, and then head west for about five miles."
    He left without another word. Cameron worked a long time cleaning the wounds. Tearing Sister Leona’s heavy muslin petticoat into strips, she applied a tourniquet to stem the flow of blood.
    Sister Leona’s eyes fluttered open, and she moaned.
    "You’re going to be all right, Sister Leona," Cameron whispered. "A man has gone to the convent for the wagon. He should be here soon."
    She offered a silent prayer that he would hurry. She couldn’t bear to see Sister so deathly pale.
    When at last she heard the creak of the wagon’s wheels, relief flooded through her. As the stranger walked up, Cameron discreetly placed the remnants of torn petticoat across Sister’s exposed skin. He bent and lifted her large frame as easily as though she were a feather. Running ahead of them, Cameron discovered layers of soft quilts and down pillows strewn in the back of the wagon. He set her down gently in the mounds of quilts and settled the pillows closely around her. As Cameron made a move to climb in with Sister, he clamped his hand tightly around her wrist, sending a spasm of shock through her.
    "Do you know how to drive this thing, girl?" He watched her through narrowed eyes.
    "Yes, but—"
    Gruffly, he interrupted. "I know you don’t want me tending her. But she may be bleeding inside. She can’t be jarred. Now, if you drive slowly, I’ll hold these pillows carefully about her so she isn’t caused any more pain than is necessary."
    He stared at the girl, who paused, undecided.
    "Do you understand?"
    "Yes," she said resolutely. She turned and climbed to the driver’s seat. Picking up the reins, she called over her shoulder, "Tell me when you’re ready."
    "Just let me tie up these horses to the back of the wagon," he muttered.
    In a few minutes he climbed in beside Sister Leona, wrapped her gently in the pillows, then said, "All right. Slow and easy."
    Those few miles back to the convent were the longest Cameron had ever known.
    Dear God , she prayed. Please don’t let her die. She is the dearest, sweetest sister. And all of this happened because I selfishly wanted to ride today. Please keep her safe.
    Several times Cameron turned and stared at the stranger. His naked torso glistened with sweat. His brows were drawn together in a frown, his mouth a thin, taut line of concentration. Though the heavy form of the nun wrapped in all those pillows must have sorely strained his muscles, he never relaxed his grip or flexed his arms for even a moment.
    When at last the wagon entered the gates of the convent walls, the late evening sun had cast long fingers of gold across the slate roofs and gleaming cross of the chapel.
    A dozen sisters, with Mother Superior and the doctor from town in the lead, hurried toward the wagon. When the horse halted, the stranger eased his hold on the still form of Sister Leona, and stiffly, he climbed down. Cameron hurried to stand beside the wagon as the doctor knelt down next to Sister and began a brisk examination. He nodded in satisfaction and signaled for the stranger to carry her inside. The rest of the subdued crowd trailed behind.
    The sisters, knowing they could do nothing for Sister Leona at the moment, moved off to find chores to occupy their minds until they could hear the doctor’s verdict. Many of the sisters hurried to the chapel, where they would keep their silent, prayerful vigil.
    Cameron couldn’t tear herself away from the room. She stood just outside the door, watching as the stranger eased Sister gently onto her bed. By the time he had walked to the door, Reverend Mother and the