Hitched to the Gunslinger by Michelle McLean

Chapter Twenty-seven

Mercy held the wad of cotton to Gray’s temple while Doc wound some torn linen strips around it to hold everything in place.

She sighed and looked down at him. “You know, if you’d hold still, this would go a lot faster.”

“Or you could just not do it at all, and we’d be done already,” he grumbled.

Mercy exchanged an exasperated look with the doctor.

“Head wounds tend to be bleeders,” the doc explained. Again. “If nothing else, it’ll keep your hat from getting bloodstains.”

Gray griped some more, but he did stop fidgeting, so that argument must have done the trick. Doc finished wrapping him up and stepped back to admire his handiwork. He gave a sharp nod and then fixed Gray with his steady gaze.

“I’d like you to stay here tonight so I can keep an eye on you. Head wounds can be tricky. Mercy, you are welcome to stay with him,” he said, giving her an awkward smile. “There are several cots set up in the next room you are welcome to use.”

Mercy nodded, though Gray was still muttering under his breath and pouting.

The doc turned back to him. “If all looks well in the morning, I’ll send you on your way home. But you’ll need to take it easy for a few days.”

That perked Gray right up. He was giving Doc his full, undivided attention now. Mercy pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, a wave of fond amusement washing over her as she stared down at her grouchy old curmudgeon. Nothing made the man happier than a nap. She shook her head.

“It would probably be best to stay in a quiet room, not have too many visitors for a bit. Get lots of rest,” Doc continued, with Gray nodding eagerly.

Mercy rolled her eyes. “Be careful, Jamison. Any more instructions like these, and he’ll be walking around bashing himself in the head just so he has an excuse to lay about all day.”

Gray harrumphed. “I wouldn’t need an excuse if I’d just been allowed to retire in peace.” He tried to glower at her, but his eyes softened almost immediately. He held out a hand, pulling her in when she took it.

“How are you?” he asked. His eyes strayed to her belly and he reached out, laying a hand on her almost reverently. “Are you sure? About the…”

She cocked an eyebrow, smiling gently. “I’m fine. And yes, I’m sure. Well, relatively sure in any case. My…” She glanced up, belatedly realizing they were having a fairly intimate conversation in front of the doctor, but he had quietly left the room without them noticing.

“My…courses are never late and were due just after our wedding. And there have been signs. I’ve been tired and a few other things. After chatting with Mrs. DuVere…” She smiled again and shrugged, laying her hand lightly on her belly.

A grin pulled at Gray’s lips, though it didn’t quite form all the way, and she furrowed her forehead. “Are you…are you pleased?”

He raised startled eyes to hers. “I…” He paused for a second and then barked out a choked laugh. “I guess I just never pictured myself as having youngins. But…yeah…I think… Yes, I’m pleased.” He laid his hand over hers. “Are you?”

“Yes. Terrified,” she said with a little laugh. “But yes. Though…”

She frowned again, a nagging dread eating at the edges of her happiness.

“What is it?” He pulled her closer so she stood between his legs, half sitting on his lap so he could wrap his arms around her.

“Josiah…”

He pulled her against his chest and rested his head on hers. “He won’t bother us anymore. He’ll have to cool his heels in our jail cell for a day or two maybe, once Sunshine and Preacher get back with him. But I’ll ship him out as soon as we can get some men gathered, along with his gunman. They can explain their actions to the judge down south. And if the assassin wants to keep his neck from the rope, he’ll give up Josiah right quick.”

She sighed and leaned into him. “I hope so. I just wish it was all settled. It was one thing when it was just me he was threatening. But now there’s you…” She drew a gentle finger along the edge of his bandage. “And the baby…”

She was hardly able to get that word out. It seemed so foreign. So unconnected to anything in her life.

She laid her head on his shoulder. “I do feel safer knowing the whole town is behind you. But…” She let out a shaky breath. “I will just rest easier when he’s behind bars. Preferably far away from us.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I know. I promise you, I won’t let him harm either of you. Even if I have to go back to shooting people during my retirement. If ever someone deserved it, it’s him.”

Gray’s eyebrows suddenly shot up to his hairline. “I just realized that if I have to stay home and take it easy for a few days, I’ll be missing my midday meals from Martha.”

She gasped. “Oh, you! Just for that, I think I’ll feed you apple pie every day.”

He blanched in horror. “I’ll tattle on you to the doc. That’s nothing short of torture, and I’m sure there’s some law against treating prisoners inhumanely.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “So you’re my prisoner now?”

“Your willing prisoner,” he said with a wink.

“Ha!” She pushed away from him, but he didn’t let her get too far.

“You have to be gentle with me, woman. I’m injured.”

He pulled her back in, and she pursed her lips, trying to glare at him. But it was difficult to maintain an air of disapproval when he sat there with a bandaged head, his hair sticking up in all directions, looking at her like he was the most innocent angel to ever step foot on the earth.

She sighed and cupped his face. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I can think of a few things,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes. “Your head is still bleeding, and the doctor told you to rest.”

He widened his eyes and rubbed his belly. “I meant that you could feed me. I missed my supper. You have such a wicked mind, Mrs. Woodson.”

“Um-hmm.” She leaned into him. “I’ll show you wicked, Mr. Woodson…”

Their lips met, and she sank into him, the knowledge that she’d almost lost him, twice, settling around her. She trembled and wrapped her arms about his neck, pouring her whole heart into that kiss. He crushed her to him, and the way his hands roved over her, almost as though he was ensuring she was still whole and healthy in his arms rather than from unbridled passion, made her think he was realizing the same thing.

They’d come too close to losing each other that day.

If the doctor hadn’t insisted on them staying in his clinic that night, she’d have taken her husband home and shown him just how happy she was to still have him in her arms. But since they were on strict orders to take it easy, she’d have to be content with wrapping herself around him while they caught a few hours of sleep.

…

“Sheriff. Sheriff?”

Gray cracked an eye open, and his head pounded at even the small bit of morning sun that made it past his eyelid. “What is it?” he ground out, his mouth feeling like he’d just licked all the dust from his boots.

The doc crouched beside his bed, peeking beneath his bandage. But when he went to pull Gray’s eyelids up, Gray swatted at his hand.

“I’m fine. And awake,” he said, groaning as he pulled himself upright. “Sorta.”

He glanced beside him, instantly wide awake the second he noticed Mercy was gone.

He grabbed for his clothes. “Where’s Mercy?”

Doc stood back so Gray could tug on his boots and get the rest of his clothes situated. His head throbbed and his gut felt a bit queasy, but he tried to ignore it. He had more important things to do. Like find his wayward wife. The woman couldn’t seem to help wandering off.

“She’s across the street with Martha, cooking up some breakfast for you, I believe.”

Gray calmed a little. He’d have preferred Mercy stayed by his side, but in the interest of breakfast…Though he did hope Martha was doing most of the cooking.

“How are you feeling this morning?” the doc asked.

Gray sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. “How do I look like I feel?”

Doc’s eyebrow quirked up. “You look like hell.”

“You’re not far off.” He stretched as well as he could without jostling his head too much. “Why’d you wake me?”

“Mr. Sunshine and the reverend haven’t returned yet. We expected them by now, so we’re gathering a party of men to ride out to Banff’s ranch.”

Any remnants of sleep were burned off in a rush of anger. And fear.

Gray reached down and grab his holster, quickly buckling it around his waist and settling his guns into place.

He’d grown quite fond of the kid…though he’d certainly never admit it to him. The thought of something happening to him was more than—

“Doc Fairbanks!” a voice yelled from outside.

Doc and Gray both rushed through the clinic and out the front door. Jed, the man they’d left at Josiah’s to keep an eye on things, sat panting on the steps of the clinic, holding his side. Doc immediately dropped to his knees to examine him, but Jed brushed him away.

“I’m okay, Doc. Just winded. I had to race here from Banff’s.”

Doc’s eyes widened.

“Why? What’s happened? And where are the preacher and Sunshine?” Gray asked, hardly giving Jed time to answer.

Jed shook his head. “Mr. Sunshine and Reverend Connelly showed up first thing this morning, but Mr. Banff was ready for them. Someone must have tipped him off. He either has someone in town who’s been watching, or he was prepared just in case his last gunman didn’t work. But he was ready when they came to get him. They ambushed them. They never had a chance.”

Gray’s blood ran cold, and his hands gripped the butt of the gun on his right hip. He barely noticed he was doing it, but the smooth metal felt good in his hand. Comforting. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, but he kept his hand on his gun.

“Are they…” the doc asked.

Jed shook his head, and relief washed over Gray.

“They’re alive. But injured. The men beat the hell out of them. And Banff’s had them tied up all night. He’s coming here and he’s gathering everyone up. He’ll have at least a dozen men with him, plus Mr. Sunshine and the reverend as his hostages. I’ve never seen him so angry as when they told him he was under arrest. I don’t know exactly what he’s planning,” he said to Gray, “but he’s mad enough that he might try anything.”

Gray nodded slowly. “Then we’ll just have to be ready for him.”

Jed nodded and leaned back against the railing. His breaths were coming easier, though he still dragged in huge lungfuls of air with each one.

Gray’s mind worked furiously, discarding one thought after another. He’d never had to come up with anything too elaborate before. People either steered clear of him or came at him one-on-one. And so far, he’d always been the one to walk away.

But that wasn’t going to work this time. Banff would never have the guts to face him one-on-one. And Gray was fast, but even he probably couldn’t take down a dozen men before someone got a lucky enough shot. Plus, they had hostages. Men Gray didn’t want harmed.

He sighed. He’d enjoyed having friends more than he thought he would, but life, or at least to-the-death fights, was a little easier when his opponent didn’t have so much leverage against him.

His gaze jerked to the General Store. Mercy. She had to be kept away from the coming fight at all costs. What were the chances she’d forgive him if he locked her in one of the cells until it was all over?

Well, standing around making his head hurt with all the thinking wasn’t solving anything.

“Jed, run across to Mrs. DuVere and send her—”

“I’m already here, Sheriff. What’s going on?” he heard Mrs. DuVere say.

Gray glanced up in surprise, his mouth open to question how the hell she’d known—

“Samuel is still gone, and poor Jed here looks like he’s about to pass out. I put two and two together.”

Gray shook his head, gracing her with a small smile. “Your arithmetic skills are truly remarkable, Mrs. DuVere.”

She waved him off, though the smile she gave him was pleased. He filled her in as quickly as he could. “I need you to spread the word to the townsfolk to stay in their homes…”

She was already shaking her head. “We told you last night, Sheriff. You belong to this town, and we take care of our own. If there’s a fight coming, then we’ll be behind you all the way.”

Gray swallowed against the sudden lump in his gullet. “I appreciate that,” he said, pausing to clear his throat, “but the last thing I want is to give Banff and his men more targets. If”—he held up a hand to stop her argument—“there are men who are armed, who know how to use their weapons, and who understand the dangers and are skilled enough to not become targets themselves, then…I would appreciate the help.”

That had been more difficult to say than he’d thought. But if he was going to be a part of this community, then he needed to start accepting all that went with it.

To a point.

“However,” he said, and Mrs. DuVere turned back to him, eyebrows raised in question. “That does not extend to my wife. I don’t know how you’ll manage, but do what you can to keep her indoors, away from any windows, and well away from any danger. If you can figure out a way to lock her in a closet somewhere, I’d be most obliged.”

Mrs. DuVere laughed. “Oh, honey, we both know the chances of that happening are pretty slim.”

He sighed deeply. “Just…try. Tell her she has more than just me to think about now.”

She nodded and walked away.

Gray rubbed a hand over his face and then glanced at Doc. “You still got that gun, Doc?”

Doc nodded grimly, and Gray pursed his lips. “Then let’s gather who we can and get our men back.”