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“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.
