The Lone Rancher - By Carol Finch Page 0,87

Boston, don’t draw fire,” Quin panted as he tried to prop himself on his elbow.

She didn’t listen to him. When had she ever? She fired off three shots as the bandit darted into the underbrush, then disappeared from sight.

A moment later, Quin heard the sound of two—maybe three—horses thundering into the darkness. He suspected the first thug had taken the second horse and had ridden hell-for-leather. Either that or a third outlaw had been watching from a safe distance. Damn it, he wished he knew for sure!

Quin dragged himself by one arm to reach the downed man. With what little strength he could muster, he shoved the thief to his back. He jerked off the hood to reveal a mop of black hair and dull brown eyes that stared dazedly at him. Bloodstains soaked the man’s shirt.

“Did you purposely kill my parents during the robbery?” Quin demanded in panted breaths.

The dark-haired hombre nodded ever so slightly. “Wasn’t just a robbery,” he rasped. “Murder… You got no idea how deep this goes….”

When he slumped lifelessly on the ground, Quin swore ripely. He’d learned his parents had been murdered, but he still had no idea why this information had surfaced two years later or if their deaths were somehow connected to the rustling and robberies plaguing the 4C for the past few years.

“I’m so sorry,” Adrianna blubbered as she stared at the bloody wound on Quin’s side. “This is my fault. I’m so sorry!”

He sucked in a ragged breath as he slumped to the ground. “Not your fault,” he whispered. “I got you into this.”

Tears erupted as she ripped away the dead man’s shirt to use as a makeshift bandage for Cahill. “Can you stand up? We need to get you to the doctor.”

“I don’t think so,” he wheezed.

Heavens, thought Adrianna, the very thing she had tried to prevent from happening had happened! “Stay here,” she ordered as she sprang to her feet.

“Don’t think I have much choice,” he mumbled dully.

Adrianna dashed off to locate Cactus, then brought the horse to Cahill. The improvised bandage was soaked with blood so she ripped off another section of the dead man’s shirt to tie around his belly. Then she grabbed Quin beneath the armpits and heaved him upward to clamp his hand around the saddle horn for support.

“You listen to me, Quin Cahill, you are going to help me get you on Cactus so we can ride to town,” she raged at him through her sobs and tears. “I love you like crazy and I refuse to lose you. Now help me, blast it!”

Adrianna wasn’t sure how they managed to hoist him onto the saddle before he collapsed against Cactus. After she mounted up, she led Quin to town for help—and prayed nonstop that he would survive.

And damn the man! she railed silently. She had tried repeatedly to draw attention away from him but he had left himself open to attack to draw gunfire away from her. He had taken a bullet for her and that tormented her beyond words.

“Blast it, you just can’t do some people a favor, and you’re one of them, Cahill,” she muttered. “Now look at you.”

He didn’t comment, just lay over Cactus like a feed sack.

Adrianna bawled her head off all the way to town. Anger, guilt and regret hounded her every step. Her attempt to spare Cahill from danger had backfired.

Plus, the dead outlaw had only lived long enough to impart a tidbit of information. The other bandit had escaped with the money—and no more than minor stab wounds on his neck and arm.

Adrianna had no idea whether the third thief had stood guard, then rode off. There was no conclusive sign of him. The third bandit could be dead already, for all she knew.

Even worse, Cahill could be a dead man riding. She might have killed the only man she had ever loved—by trying to protect him! The tormenting thought circled her mind like a vulture. She would give her fortune if it could save Cahill.

Muffling a sniff, she glanced back to see Cahill’s motionless form and pale face in the moonlight. Her heart twisted in her chest and another sob burst from her lips.

It wasn’t enough that Cahill had to deal with that stupid curse and rumors constantly circulating around town. She had become the worst curse of his life…or what he had left of it….

Chapter Fifteen

Quin groaned miserably. He felt like death warmed on a dim flame and he wondered if he was still alive.