The Christmas Journey. Winnie Griggs

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “Oh.” She searched his face for a moment, then the tension in her eased. She stood and waggled the canteen. “Better refill this.”

      Ry shifted again, chafing at his weakened condition as he watched her limp toward the stream. She was hurt, yet she hadn’t spoken a word of complaint. How long had she been sitting there, wondering if she’d been responsible for taking a man’s life?

      His opinion of her character rose another notch.

      “How long was I out?”

      “About thirty minutes or so,” she called back over her shoulder. “Had me worried for a while.”

      Again, her light tone didn’t quite cover the underlying strain. He knew it wasn’t all due to the physical pain and exhaustion she must be feeling. The emotional turmoil she’d been through had taken its toll as well.

      She paused to check on the horse before stooping with some difficulty at the stream to refill the canteen. Her action reminded him of what had happened to Scout. Had the animal died of its wounds, or had she been forced to deal with that, as well?

      Either way, he had a lot to make up for. Starting now.

      “Only thirty minutes, huh?” he said as she returned. “It appears you made good use of the time.”

      She shrugged. “I’m used to keeping busy.”

      That he could believe. “Well, you’ve set up a tight little camp here.” Pulling on every ounce of strength he had, Ry propped himself up on one elbow. “I ought to be comfortable enough while you head back to town.”

      Her eyes widened. “What?”

      “Take that horse and ride to town. You can send a wagon back for me. There’s no point in us both just sitting here hoping someone will come along.”

      “Uh-uh. Whether we like it or not, we’re in this together. I’m not leaving here without you, not after all the trouble I went through to save your hide.”

      “And you can finish the job by sending a wagon back for me.”

      “What if Otis comes back?”

      Exactly. He had to make certain she was well out of harm’s way. “Look, Josie, you said yourself Otis was long gone. Besides, I’m not hurt so bad that I can’t hold my own for the time it’ll take you to get to town and send help back. Just leave me one of those rifles and I’ll be fine.”

      She snorted. “Fine my left foot.” Thrusting a rifle at him, she walked off, positioning herself several yards behind him. “Okay, hero, I’m Otis. Defend yourself.”

      Ry struggled to sit up and at the same time swivel his body to face her. He failed miserably. On both counts.

      “Might as well quit trying.” The edge of irritation in her voice exacerbated the ache in his head. “If I was Otis you’d already be dead. And that’s with lots of warning to boot.”

      She stood over him, glaring. “Hang it all, Mister, there’s no shame in admitting you’re hurt. It’s just plain selfish, too—making more work for me. Look at you. All that tomfool twisting and turning set your arm to bleeding again. At this rate we’re going to run out of bandages before we can get you to the doc.”

      Even if he’d had the energy to take offense, Ry knew she was right. For a moment he didn’t even have the breath to speak.

      He flopped back with a thud that amplified the pounding in his head. It was getting colder too. He couldn’t suppress the shiver that wracked his body.

      Josie removed the rifle from his grasp, her brow furrowing. “How are you feeling?”

      “Thoroughly useless.”

      She patted his hand, as if he were some wet-behind-the-ears kid who needed comforting. “Sorry I lit into you that way—ain’t your fault you don’t like being stove up. My ma used to say that trying times were God’s way of keeping us humble and reminding us to look to Him for our strength.”

      She leaned back. “Just think of it as taking a bit of time off from all that rushing around you’ve been doing.”

      Belle! Hang it all, with everything that had happened he’d forgotten all about her cry for help. If only she hadn’t been so cryptic about what she needed from him.

      “Can’t afford to take time off right now.” He shivered again. So cold. So tired. “Belle needs me.”

      He closed his eyes to keep the spinning sky from drawing him into the maelstrom.

      Belle. Josie. Different as night and day. In fact, the only thing they had in common was that they were facing big troubles.

      And he was powerless to lift a finger to help either of them.

      Chapter Six

      Who was Belle?

      Jo tried to ignore her curiosity and concentrate instead on keeping Mr. Lassiter from passing out.

      His eyes drifted closed again and she chewed on her lip. How serious were his injuries?

      “Come on, Mister—Ry—try to stay awake. Just until help comes. It shouldn’t be much longer.”

      His eyes fluttered open. “Sorry. Feeling drowsy.”

      “Talk to me. Where you traveling from?”

      “Philadelphia.”

      “Hah! I knew you weren’t a rancher.”

      That got a reaction from him. “Not calling me a liar, are you? I said I was raised on a ranch. My family’s still there.”

      “But not you.”

      “My grandfather lives in Philadelphia. I stayed with him while I went to law school.”

      “So which do you call home, the ranch or Philadelphia?”

      His face creased in annoyance. “Too many questions.”

      She tried another tack. “So why were you in such an all-fired hurry to reach Foxberry?”

      “Still am. Supposed to meet someone there, someone who asked for help.”

      “You came all the way from Philadelphia to answer a call for help? Must be an awfully good friend.”

      “She is.”

      She? Was it this Belle woman he’d mentioned?

      He lifted a hand, then let it drop. “Sounded urgent. Hadn’t heard from her in years. She must be desperate.”

      He shifted again and winced. “What makes you so sure help is coming?”

      Jo threw another stick on the fire. “Whenever Licorice gets spooked she heads straight for home. As soon as she shows up without me, Danny’ll СКАЧАТЬ