The aging woman pushed Allie behind her. ‘‘I’ll not stand by and let you harm the child.’’ She laughed as if almost enjoying the game. ‘‘And I’m not as easy to kill as you might think.’’
The preacher made his first mistake. He touched Victoria. He might have been six-feet tall and thirty years her junior, but when he touched her, he put himself on even ground. She knew where he was.
Victoria shoved Allie backward as she ran forward like a raging angel.
He wasn’t prepared for an attack, not from an old woman. She raked her fingernails across his face before he had time to raise his arms.
Louis screamed. Giving pain might be his pleasure, but he bore no joy when receiving it. His blood looked black in the moonlight as it dripped in his eye and across his face from her scratches.
Louis raised his staff as he shoved Victoria against the railing. The whooshing sound of her breath leaving her lungs combined with the hollow crack of ribs.
Allie watched as he drew in a mighty breath. This blow would be struck to kill. Victoria fought to regain her balance as she turned her head, listening, testing for exactly where he stood behind her. She was alone now and lost.
As the mighty blow lowered toward the old woman, Allie attacked. The knife from her boot filled her palm. Without pulling back to increase the power of the strike, Allie shoved the blade forward into Louis’s chest.
The sharp blade sliced into him between his ribs.
For a moment, he stood before her filled with rage, paused to yet render a blow.
Fear and panic drove Allie. Her knuckles whitened around the handle of the knife as she tried to pull her weapon out of his chest. But it wouldn’t budge!Somehow the blade had lodged between his ribs.
In the length of a heartbeat, Allie saw him start to crumble, his staff falling to his side. Victoria stood before him, listening, trying to understand what was happening.
Allie had to release her knife. She had to pull Victoria from his path or he’d take her with him in the fall.
She had to give up her weapon!
Like a mighty tree that whispers through the air as it first begins to fall, Louis tumbled. His blood sprayed like a warm shower on Allie as she released her knife and pushed Victoria out of harm’s way. As Louis staggered over the railing, the women fell to the floor of the walk.
Allie lay over the old woman, protecting her. At first there was silence, then Allie heard the thud of his body against the hard earth below.
Afraid to move, afraid to believe it was over, Allie clung to her grandmother. But there were only the sounds of the night, and peace.
She rolled away from Victoria. ‘‘It is over,’’ she whispered.
The old woman didn’t move.
Allie brushed the blood from Victoria’s face. Her eyes were closed. Her body limp.
‘‘Victoria?’’ she whispered. ‘‘Victoria!’’ she screamed.
Light suddently filled the walk as the trapdoor flew open. Wes shoved his gun into his holster and knelt at her side.
‘‘Allie, are you all right?’’ His voice was thick with worry as his fingers brushed over her.
Allie made words form into sound. ‘‘Help Victoria! She’s hurt.’’
Wes forced his attention from Allie to the old woman. Gently, he lifted her and carried her to the trapdoor opening, calling orders down to his brothers as he moved. He lowered her to the waiting arms of Daniel.
‘‘I’ve got her.’’ Daniel’s voice reassured Wes. ‘‘Adam is already downstairs making ready. We’ll take care of Miss Victoria. You get Allie.’’
When Wes glanced back to help her, he found Allie was leaning over the railing. He moved to her side and gently slid his hands along her sides, reassuring himself that she suffered no harm.
‘‘Are you all right?’’ He watched the Old Guard below gathering around the preacher’s body. ‘‘Louis is dead. He’ll never hurt you again.’’
Allie circled her arms around Wes’s waist and cried softly. ‘‘I want to go home,’’ she whispered. ‘‘I want to go back to my cave.’’
Wes had no idea what to say. He hugged her to him, realizing how close he’d come to losing her, and he knew without any doubt that he loved her.
‘‘I’ll take you tomorrow.’’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘‘If that’s what you want.’’
‘‘That’s what I want,’’ she answered.
TWENTY-SIX
TEARS STILL SHONE IN ALLIE’S EYES AS THEY WALKEDinto the main room downstairs several minutes later. She felt as though she’d stepped from calm through a tornado to find the other side of the world peaceful once more. No one asked her questions or demanded to know why she’d killed a man. All she saw in their eyes was worry.
Daniel met her at the door. He slipped her knife into her hand. ‘‘I cleaned it for you, Allie. Thank the Lord you had it with you,’’ he whispered as he left the room.
The sheriff pulled himself to a sitting position on his couch when she entered. He gripped his side and fought down the pain with a quick smile in her direction, then turned back to watch Adam working over Victoria a few feet away.
Wes didn’t loosen his grip on Allie’s hand. He knelt beside Victoria’s chair opposite Adam. ‘‘How is she?’’
Adam shook his head. ‘‘Folks her age weren’t meant to take blows like she’s suffered. Daniel and Wolf are bringing a bed down from upstairs. I’ll know more after I examine her, but the longer she’s unconscious, the worse it looks.’’ He placed a cool cloth over her forehead.
Allie studied the old woman carefully. She looked as fragile as fine china. It was hard to believe how she’d fought on the walk. If she hadn’t, they’d both be dead.
Daniel banged in with one end of the bed. Wolf followed with no greater skill on the other end. The two housekeepers and the cook hurried in with linens and a nightgown. They were like bees around a queen, surrounding Victoria after Daniel placed the bed only a few feet from the couch.
While they worked, Adam and Wes stood several feet away.
‘‘I’d planned to take her to her room,’’ Adam whispered, ‘‘but Maxwell here yelled he’d crawl up the stairs and shootmein the leg if I didn’t bring her to him. I think he meant it, that is, if the climb didn’t kill him first. He said he had to see she was alive.’’
Maxwell Hardy stared with worried eyes at the backs of the women as they lifted Victoria into bed. Wes thought of how helpless he’d felt when he couldn’t reach Allie earlier. There was no doubt in Wes’s mind that the sheriff meant every word he’d said to Adam. Even wounded and crippled, he’d still give his last ounce of blood for Victoria.
Wolf, Daniel, and Wes crossed to the cold fireplace as Allie helped the women make Victoria comfortable and dressed her in a nightgown.
Wolf excused himself, saying he had to get back to Jason. Adam had ordered Wolf to keep Jason awake and watch for any change in the boy. Suddenly, the house seemed more like a hospital than a ranch headquarters.
Wes wanted to leave, too. He hated sickrooms. But he wouldn’t go without Allie. He didn’t want to let her out of his sight for a moment.
When Victoria was ready, Adam began his examination. If she’d been a man, he would have stripped off clothing and checked her over totally. But women, especially aging Southern women like Victoria, would never allow such treatment, no matter how badly they were hurt. Adam had to very carefully cover her body as he checked each limb. He’d heard more than one doctor tell stories of women dying rather than returning to a physician who wasn’t quite proper with his examination.
The two housekeepers held the sheet up while he wrapped Victoria’s ribs. Both servants turned their faces away, respectfully allowing her as much privacy as possible.
Victoria moaned a few times as he examined her. She seemed to be fighting to come back to the world. Her body might be frail, but her spirit was still strong.
‘‘Well?’’ Sheriff Hardy asked as Adam ordered the women to mix a powder in a basin of water and brew tea laced with painkiller. ‘‘How is she?’’ The old lawman watched him carefully.
‘‘She’s got a few broken ribs, maybe some bleeding inside,’’ Adam said, looking up at the man so he’d know Adam was telling the truth. ‘‘I can’t tell how much. From the way they’re swelling, she may have broken two fingers of her right hand and has a bump on the back of her head.’’ He glanced at Allie for an explanation.
Allie was surprised no one had asked her what had happened before now. She cleared her throat and forced out the words. ‘‘She scratched Louis, the man who forced us upstairs, hard across the face, giving me time to pull my knife. He knocked her into the railing. Blood dripped from the marks she left on his face, blinding him.’’ Allie fought back tears. ‘‘She hurt her head when I pushed her down so the preacher wouldn’t fall into her and take her over the railing with him. It’s all my fault. He didn’t want to hurt her, only me. She was only trying to protect me.’’
Wes put his arm around Allie’s shoulder, but before he could speak, Victoria’s voice drifted through the air like a weak vapor.
‘‘You’re right, child,’’ she mumbled as she pulled herself back to consciousness. ‘‘It is all your doing that I’m alive.’’
Everyone turned to Victoria. She closed her eyes, fighting back the pain. ‘‘Is that horrible man dead, Maxwell?’’
‘‘Yes.’’ Allie moved closer. ‘‘I killed him.’’
Victoria raised her unharmed hand. ‘‘Hold your chin up, child,’’ she said as though she could see Allie. ‘‘Don’t ever be ashamed of doing what has to be done. There’s enough regret in not doing what you should have done to last a lifetime.’’
Turning her head, listening, Victoria seemed to locate the sheriff. ‘‘Maxwell, have one of the men shoot him again once he’s boxed just to make sure he doesn’t try breathing again.’’
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