CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel) (19 page)

             
If Gabe ended up dying from his wounds, and if word got out that Amos shot Gabe Williams, his new widow wouldn’t marry him if he were the last man on earth. She most likely didn’t know his name, much less his face. Amos had already spent too much time in a fairy-tale world of his own making.
It was t
ime to let past hurts go and move on with his life.

             
Plenty of women would want to be the wife of a successful rancher. A man who stood to gain a lot more
if fate were on his side
.

             
But if Amos stepped back, Gabe wouldn’t suffer. He wasn’t sure he could allow that.

###

             
Charity opened the door and peeked outside
, blinking against the stinging wind
that chapped her cheeks and glued snowflakes to her eyelashes
. Gabe should have been back hours ago
. W
hat little
bit of
weak sunlight they’d had all day was quickly disappearing.
She shivered and closed the door.

             
She needed to go look for him, but
she
had no idea how to saddle Ruby
, nor was she familiar with the surrounding landscape
.
No help for it. Gabriel might need her.
Squaring her shoulders, she grabbed her heav
y
wool coat. “Sam, Meg, you stay here. I’m going to look for your pa.”

             
“On foot?” Sam glanced up from his bowl of ham and beans.

             
“
Yes
,
I’ll take the lantern. Which direction does he usually head?”

             
“North.”

             
Charity raised her eyebrows.

             
“
That way.” Sam pointed to the back of the soddy. “
There’s a path up the mountain. It’s steep, but you can’t miss
the valley on the other side.
” Sam stood. “Maybe I should go with you.”

             
“No, you stay with your sister.” Charity eyed the rifle over the mantel, then disregarded the idea. She couldn’t load or shoot.
She grabbed the lantern and lit it with a piece of kindling.

             
The wind stole her breath the instant she stepped outside. Sam
had
told her it would warm up again, but with a day like the one
this one
, Charity had a hard time believing it. She lifted
the lantern and trudged in the direction Sam mentioned.

             
Before long, her legs trembled from the strain of making her way up the mountain
side
.
Her foot slipped on a patch of ice
,
and she fell to her knees. The lantern shattered on a rock. The night pushed in on her with all its fearsome darkness.
Her breath hitched.

             
She knew without looking that she sported skinned knees from slipping and falling on the hard ground,
and she had yet to spot a single cow or her husband.
Of course, should she find the four-legged animals, she wouldn’t have a clue what to do with them
.

             
She tugged her coat closer around her and continued, blocking her mind from the pain in her feet and nose. What if she walked past Gabriel in the storm?
He could be lying behind any rock or bush.
There was some visibility, but with her head down against the wind, she might miss him
.
What if he died out here?
Then what would she do? She could always move back to Virginia City, but what about Sam and Meg?
As their stepmother, w
as she their legal guardian?

             
What about her growing feelings for Gabriel? The thought of him lying dead, alone, in the snow, chilled her more than the storm.

             
“Charity O’Connell Williams you’re a ninny.” The wind whipped away her words. Thinking the worst, as always. Most likely she traveled on a fool’s journey
,
and Gabriel was already on his way home. She turned to head back. A whinny came from her right
,
and Rogue stepped from the bushes with Gabriel hunched
low
on
his
horse’s back.

             
“Gabriel!” Charity rushed to him. “What happened?”

             
“Fool woman. We’re in a snow storm.” He groaned.
“Where are the children?”

             
“
They’re safe at home
—w
here we should be
.
” She ran her hands over his leg and side, then
pull
ed
them away sticky. “You’re bleeding!”

             
“Someone shot me. Rogue was on his way home.
You’ve put yourself in danger coming out here.
”

             
Charity stared at the horse and her injured husband. She needed to mount behind Gabriel. Grasping Rogue’s reins, she led the horse to a nearby boulder and climbed up behind her husband. They could share body warmth. She dug in her heels and urged the horse to head home fast.

             
Someone shot Gabriel.
Who could hate him that much?
Charity swallowed
and glanced over her shoulder. Was the shooter still out there
,
or had he run
away
like the coward
he was
? She clicked to Rogue again and tensed, expecting a bullet in the back
at any moment
.

             
Gabriel slumped forward. Charity wrapped her arm around his waist and did her best to hold him in the saddle. Not an easy task considering the difference in their sizes.
She wasn’t sure how she’d get him off the horse and into the house, but Ma always told her she could do anything she put her mind to.
She hoped
that included an abu
ndance of strength when she needed
it
.

             
Gabriel’s blood began to soak through her coat. Her stomach churned. What kind of damage had the shooter done? Would she have to
dig a bullet out of her husband?
She kept her lips clamped tight against the acid
rising
in her throat. She’d need God’s help, if
H
e felt so inclined this once, to help Gabriel.

15

             
Gabriel still had the strength to assist Charity with getting him into the house.
Although he leaned heavily on her shoulders, they managed to
bang open the door and stumble over the threshold
, landing in a pile of torn petticoats and groans
.

Tears welled in Meg’s eyes at the sight of them,
and
Sam bolted the door shut behind them
.
Charity breathed a sigh of relief once
she struggled to her feet
,
and
Gabriel collapsed on his bed.

             
She stared at the widening blood stain on his coat. Squeamish or not, the coat, and the shirt, needed to come off immediately. “Sam, remove your pa’s boots,
then take care of Rogue,
please. Meg, put some water on the stove to heat.” Charity knelt beside her trunk and dug until she located her medic
ine
box.
Please, don’t let Gabriel need the bullet removed
.
The thought of doing so churned her stomach.
She wasn’t used to the sight of blood and torn flesh.

             
The silence behind her alerted her to the fact the children had yet to follow her instructions. Charity turned with a scowl that quickly faded. Sam and Meg held hands as Sam quietly prayed for their pa’s recovery. Charity swallowed against the boulder in her throat. Hadn’t her ma once said something
about
a childlike faith?
She’d like to have that indulgence, she really would
, b
ut once again God threatened to take away someone important to her.  She refused to let
H
im
as long as she had breath in her body
.

She
choked back a sob
and began tugging off Gabriel’s coat.
It wasn’t
easy with him lying injured and unconscious.
“I’ll need that water soon, Meg.” She hated interrupting their prayer, since God might actually listen to children, but she couldn’t stop Gabriel’s bleeding if she had to
take the time to
heat water. “Sam, fetch me clean cloths before
you
head out to the horse.”
Blood seeped into the blanket under Gabriel’s inert body.

Sam thrust
a clean dishtowel
into her hands and watched as Charity pressed
it
against Gabriel’s wound.

“Hurry, son,
and
take care of the horse. I’m going to need your help.” Maybe she ought to
let Rogue
wait, but her husband loved that horse and wouldn’t appreciate it being left out in the weather.
Charity didn’t want him to worry about anything when he woke.

After several moments of pressing the cloths against his side, Charity
unbuttoned Gabe’s shirt.
She chose not to think about what she would see as she
removed it
. Besides the wound, she’d see her husband’s unclothed chest for the first time. She had never seen any man unclothed for that matter.
Red Feather didn’t count, and Charity had done everything possible not to dwell on the Indian’s lack of dress.
She had never even seen her Da without a shirt on.

The sides of
Gabriel’s
shirt fell away, revealing a deep gash
through the fleshy area at his waist
. Charity smiled nervously.
No entrance or exit hole, thus n
o bullet to dig out.
Just a deep gash to stitch.
She supposed
she
ought to thank God for the small favor.
She pressed
another towel
against
her husband’s
wound and waited for Sam to come back. Where was that boy?

He burst through the door along with a rush of cold air. “What do you need me to do?”

“
H
old this against your pa’s wound while I
sterilize
my needle.
W
e don’t need to dig the bullet out. Just clean and stitch.” Charity moved back and let Sam take over. While she worked
on sterilization
, Meg poured hot water over more clean cloths.

Charity scrubbed her hands with lye soap and threaded her sharpest needle. She took a deep breath, knowing she would need a steady hand.
Her hands shook
as if she had the palsy.

Squinting, she took another deep breath, held it, and guided the thread through the eye of the needle. After retrieving the small bottle of spirits she kept in her medicine box, she was ready to work. Gabriel groaned when she poured the liquor across his wound, but didn’t wake.
The guttural sound he made tore at Charity’s heart. She didn’t want to do this. But if not her, then who? Certainly not one of the children
, and the Stoltz
es
lived too far
away to fetch
for help
.

She
exhaled sharply through her nose, then
jabbed the needle through his skin and tried to do her best stitching. Not being a seamstress, she worried about the neatness of the stitches. No help for it. She needed to get the wound closed.

By the time Gabriel was stitched and bandaged, Charity’s head throbbed and the fire had begun to die down. She glanced
at
the children
,
their
eyes shimmering
as they
star
ed
down at their father
.
Her heart
faltered
. She’d been so focused on Gabriel, she’d lost all thought of them until that moment.

Charity couldn’t remember the last time she had been
so
tired.
She convinced the children their pa would be okay and encouraged them to go to bed. She ducked behind her curtain.

Her limbs trembled as she shed her soiled dress and donned her flannel nightgown. She dragged the rocking chair close to Gabriel’s bed
, placed
more wood
on the fire, wrapped her shawl around her shoulders,
and
then
settled in for a long
night
of watching over him.