The Lone Rancher - By Carol Finch Page 0,56

this character at the wedding party. He hadn’t recognized the man as a local and he hadn’t given him another thought—until now.

Setting aside his pistol, Quin dug into the pockets of the dead man’s wet jacket, breeches and shirt. He found a few coins but no identification.

“Damnation!” he growled irritably.

Quin was about to rise to his feet when he felt a presence behind him. He made a grab for the pistol but someone clobbered him over the head. He swayed on his knees when stars exploded in front of his eyes. He took a blind swing at whoever had snuck up behind him but he received another blow to the skull for his effort. A boot heel slammed between his shoulder blades, sending him sprawling beside the dead man.

His last thought, before he blacked out, was that if he wound up with a bullet in his back his last memory would be Boston’s voice ringing in his ears, reminding him that she’d told him so….

Adrianna heard the gunshot in the distance and felt her heart shrivel in her chest. Blast it, she should have pushed the borrowed horse to a swifter pace so she could keep a closer eye on Quin. Now he was likely dead and she was no use to him whatsoever.

Damn him, why hadn’t he listened to reason? If she had been nearby, things might have turned out differently.

She winced, remembering what Quin had said about feeling guilty because he hadn’t been home the fateful day his parents drove to Wolf Grove—and never made it back alive. Now she knew how he felt—angry, guilty and full of regret. She should have pitched a royal fit until he agreed to let her accompany him. She should have descended the tree faster so she could have been on hand to help him spot the bushwhacker….

Her wild, tormenting thoughts trailed off when she heard the thunder of hooves racing to the east. She gouged her horse, then jerked back on the reins when a second horse galloped hell-for-leather to the west in the darkness.

As anxious as she was to locate Quin—to see him, touch him and know he was safe, she forced herself to wait another beat. Sure enough, a third rider headed south. No doubt, there was a gang involved. They had split up to avoid capture—in case Quin hadn’t come alone as instructed.

Once she was reasonably certain the danger had passed, Adrianna nudged her horse, unsure where she was going. In the near distance, she heard murmurs. Alarmed, she halted and pricked her ears. She realized the sound she heard was water rushing over rocks. Phantom Springs, no doubt.

She nudged the horse forward, then swore sourly when she spotted Cactus tethered to a tree. She dismounted in a single bound to rush toward the sound of gurgling water. Her thudding heart ceased beating the moment when she saw Quin sprawled facedown beside another lifeless body that was faceup.

“Quin?” she choked out as she skidded onto her knees beside him. “Quin, can you hear me?”

Nothing. He didn’t respond or move, just lay motionless beside the other man—who looked vaguely familiar. She was too distressed to recall where she might have seen him.

Desperate, Adrianna ripped off the hem of her blouse to dip in the water. Since she didn’t see a bloody wound on Quin’s back she rolled him over, then frowned, bemused. There was no pool of blood or seeping stain on his chest or torso. But she knew for a fact that she had heard a gunshot.

Confused, she rolled over the other man and found the fatal wound on his back. Surely Quin hadn’t shot this man in the back—it wasn’t his style. But why did Quin look as dead as his companion when he wasn’t lying in a pool of his own blood?

Muffling a sniff, she wiped the tears from her eyes, then pressed shaky fingertips to the side of Quin’s neck. She half collapsed in relief when she noted he still had a pulse. Frantic to determine why he wasn’t moving, she ran her hand over his scalp. There were two goose-egg-size knots on the back of his head.

Why didn’t I notice them when I rolled him to his back before? she asked herself. Because she had been expecting to see bullet holes. Thank goodness, she hadn’t found any.

Adrianna grabbed her makeshift rag and blotted the knots on his head. Then she eased Quin to his back to sprinkle water on his pallid face. When that