Outlaw's Bride Read Free Page A

her husband had been killed.
    â€œWhere is he?” Mattie asked her son.
    â€œI’ll show you,” Andy replied.
    â€œNo, I want you to stay here. Just tell us where.”
    Andy shook his head stubbornly. “I’m going.” He climbed into the back of the wagon and held on to the seat to keep his balance. “Follow the road for a little ways.”
    Mattie’s gaze collided with Kevin’s and she shrugged helplessly. “Let’s go.”
    A mile down the main road, Andy directed them to a turnoff. A few minutes later, he pointed ahead. “Over there, where Herman is.”
    A few hundred yards more and they arrived at the site. Andy jumped down from the wagon before Mattie could stop him. She climbed down and joined Kevin, who knelt beside the wounded man.
    Recognition struck her immediately—Mr. Beaudry. She pressed a palm to her mouth.
    â€œIt’s that gunslinger, Ma,” Andy said.
    She nodded faintly. “Clint Beaudry.” The severe lines of his brow had disappeared, smoothed by unconsciousness, and his pale complexion gave his features a marblelike appearance. He no longer appeared dangerous, only … vulnerable.
    Mattie shook aside her sympathy. Beaudry was no better than an outlaw.
    â€œMattie, I need your help,” Kevin said urgently.
    Herman moved aside so she could kneel on the other side of Beaudry. “What do you want me to do?”
    â€œThe bullet went right through his side, so he’s got two open wounds. When I sit him up, I need you to dress the entry wound while I take care of the exit wound,” Kevin said with calm authority.
    Mattie took the thick dressing from his outstretched hand and helped him raise the stranger to a sitting position. She detected woodsmoke underlying the metallic tang of blood and realized the stranger must have camped out last night. Guilt gnawed at her conscience. If she hadn’t turned him away, maybe he wouldn’t have been shot.
    Working together, she and Kevin removed Beaudry’s ruined shirt. Her breath caught at the ragged hole in the gunfighter’s side. Blood oozed from the wound, and Mattie pressed the thick dressing over the bullet entry.
    â€œWrap it up, bringing the bandage around his waist and covering the front dressing to hold it in place, too,” Kevin instructed.
    Mattie leaned close to Beaudry to wrap the fourinch-wide cloth around his torso, and his long hair brushed her cheek as his masculine scent invaded her nostrils. Her stomach muscles clenched and her chest grew tight, forcing her to take shallow breaths. She concentrated on her task, but her gaze flitted across his smoothly muscled back. A scar marred his left shoulder—a mark of his violent profession.
    She hastened to finish her task. “I’m done.”
    Kevin nodded in approval and lowered the injured man—right into Mattie’s lap. Her arms instinctively moved around Beaudry’s shoulders.
    Herman and the lawman joined them.
    â€œYou figure it was a Colt or Winchester that got him, Doc?” the sheriff asked.
    â€œProbably a Winchester. There’s no powder marks and the bullet went all the way through,” the doctor replied.
    â€œI heard a rifle shot ’bout ten minutes afore me and Andy found him,” Herman added.
    Kevin pressed his spectacles up on his nose and glanced around. “If I had to guess, I’d say this man was shot by someone in those rocks up there.”
    Sheriff Atwater nodded. “That’s what I figured, too.” He pointed to the sorrel tied behind the wagon. “There was blood on the horse’s neck.”
    â€œAre you saying he was ambushed?” Mattie demanded, desperate for anything to take her mind off Beaudry’s warm skin searing her with awareness.
    â€œThat’s exactly what we’re sayin’, Mattie,” Herman said. “There’s horse tracks leading away from this fella.”
    Unwanted compassion