The Outlaw of Cedar Ridge. Lori Connelly

gaze drifted over Ben. The rise and fall of his chest offered small comfort. Evie reached over, brushed back matted hair and found a good-sized lump near his right temple. Tears stung her eyes. She half filled the bowl with water and started to wash the blood off his face.

      Anger snapped along strained nerves. Evie shot a glance over at the sheriff. “What do you know?”

      “Your husband is a lucky man.”

      “Lucky?” Her gaze became a glare.

      “One of your neighbors saw his mare, riderless, if he hadn’t I doubt we’d have found Ben in time.”

      “Neighbor? Mr. Talbert?”

      He shook his head. “Thomas Sullivan.”

      “Was he the one who hurt Ben?”

      “No ma’am.” Sheriff Green straightened from his crouched position. He hung the pot she’d filled over flames that danced along sticks.

      “But he knew where Ben was?”

      “Tom showed us where he’d seen the horse.”

      “Had seen? He didn’t go after her?”

      “Well, ma’am, I’m afraid Tom spotted her at some distance and didn’t feel inclined to investigate.”

      The shame burnt her cheeks. “He didn’t care about a loose, saddled horse because he recognized Sugar.”

      “He knew it was your husband’s mount.” Sheriff Green cleared his throat. “Anyway, Ben was near there, at the bottom of a small ravine.”

      “How did you know to look there?”

      “Just like chasing down a wounded animal, we followed the blood trail.”

      Evie turned to stare at John with wide eyes, horrified at the images those words invoked. “You what?”

      “I think you’ve helped enough, go on home now.”

      John had the grace to mumble an apology as she watched him take his leave. A hand touched her upper arm. “You all right?”

      Startled, Evie looked up at the sheriff. “I’m fine.”

      “You look-”

      “Tired? Scared out of my mind?” Although she attempted to sound calm and in control, her voice emerged thin and strained. “I’ll survive.” Evie got up, walked outside, and tossed the fouled water out of her bowl. “When will the doctor get here?”

      “Soon I’m sure.”

      All of a sudden, Ben groaned. Evie spun at the sound and hurried to her husband’s side. His eyes open, he stared up at her. Pain etched deep lines on his face.

      Her fingers lightly touched his. “Ben.”

      His lips moved in a sad attempt at a smile. “Hey. Pretty. Lady.” He drew in a breath between each word as his gaze swept the room. “Where am I?”

       Chapter Three

      “You’re home.”

      Ben looked up at her. His eyebrows drew together. “Home?”

      “Yes.”

      “I…” His eyelids fell shut. “Don’t … ”

      “Ben? Ben?”

      Only silence answered. Evie stared down at her husband for a moment longer. He didn’t move or make a sound. Her shoulders drooped. Concern knotted her stomach as she moved over to the fireplace and filled her bowl from the kettle.

      Without a word, she strode back to Ben’s side. Evie lifted the blood soaked towel from his shoulder then dropped it on the floor. Nerves stretched taut, she dipped a fresh cloth in the hot water and started to clean around the wound.

      “Mrs. Rolfe.” The sheriff paused. Evie glanced up. The tall man pulled up a chair near her, sat down. With a cautious expression and a gentle, careful tone, he asked, “Do you know who’d want to hurt your husband?”

      Evie looked back down at Ben. Her eyes burned but she refused to cry. She scrubbed off the last bits of dried blood and dirt. “Ah … ” Her task finished, she laid a fresh towel over torn flesh. “Other than Mr. Talbert, I … ”

      “You think Mr. Talbert is responsible?”

      “I don’t know, but the other night some of his men-”

      A welcome sound drifted through the walls, sending a wave of relief over her. Evie held up a hand and shook her head when the sheriff started to say something. She thrust the bowl on the dresser, almost running to open the door.

      In front of the cabin, a buggy rolled up. A slight built man dressed in all brown from trousers to string tie stepped out of the vehicle. With short light brown hair, plain features and wire-rimmed spectacles, the medical bag in his hand was the only thing of note about the man.

      “Mrs. Rolfe, this is Dr. Black.” The sheriff walked up, offering the introduction as she motioned the other man inside.

      “We’ve met.” She addressed Sheriff Green then turned her attention back to the doctor, clasping his hand. “Thank you for coming.” She gestured to Ben. “He’s bleeding badly.”

      “Let me take a look.”

      Dr. Black moved directly to the bedside and set his bag on the dresser. With quiet efficiency, he examined her husband. A guttural moan escaped the wounded man’s lips. Evie walked over to the foot of the bed as Ben opened his eyes and lightly touched his leg.

      “The doctor’s here.”

      Ben looked up at the man beside him then down at Evie. He tried to move then stilled when the doctor placed a hand on his chest. His breath labored, perspiration covered his face. Pain twisted his expression into a grimace. She averted her gaze to stare at the blazing fire.

      Dr. Black laid a hand on her arm. “I’ll need hot water and whiskey if you have some.”

      After a few seconds, she nodded then with a swish of her skirts, stepped away. She reached up on the shelf and pulled down the large flour tin. Cheeks aflame, Evie avoided the men’s curious gazes as she dug out the bottle she’d hidden. That it was half-full startled her a moment then, with a sigh, she put the container back. Ben had obviously found it.

      Her mouth twisted into a travesty of a smile, she handed the liquor to the doctor. She moved to the hearth, lifted the heavy, steaming pot from over the fire then set it down on a folded cloth in the middle of the table. After that, she added soap and some bowls then hovered, watching the doctor spread out his own supplies.

      “Your husband is in good hands.”

      “I know.” Although grateful for the reassurance, her voice came out hollow.

      “You know Dr. Black?”

      Evie nodded. Her gaze never left the doctor as he helped her husband swallow some whiskey. He turned from his patient, washed his hands then started on Ben’s shoulder. She watched him clean out the wound without a noticeable flinch but her eyes widened as he threaded a needle. When the sharp metal pierced her husband’s flesh, she felt the blood drain from her face.

      Saliva gathered in her mouth. Poise crumbled. She swayed but couldn’t look away. Evie heard the sheriff speaking to her as if from a distance.

      “Ma’am … ma’am, maybe you should step outside?”

      Her mind fuzzy it took a moment before Evie understood what he’d said and her gaze swung to him. She stared at the tall man a few seconds, blinked then stumbled outside. Crisp, cool air feathered her face.

      “You were telling me about some men?”