Cora's Pride (Wilderness Brides Book 1) (16 page)

“Nathaniel,” she cried. He lay face-down in the dirt. Blood soaked through his shirt where a gaping hole had ripped the buckskin below his right shoulder blade.

He moaned again, his knees drawing up to his body. “Cora,” he rasped as his hands braced into the dirt, trying to push up off the ground.

“Lie still, Nathaniel. It’s gonna be all right.” Cora’s voice trembled. She looked toward camp. Anna came running, along with Patrick and Caroline.

“He’s been shot,” Cora called frantically.

Anna was beside her in the next instant.

“Caroline, get linens and water,” Cora ordered, her voice trembling. “We have to stop the bleeding.”

“Cora,” Nathaniel rasped again.

She leaned over him. Her shaking hand touched his face. “I’m right here,” she whispered, blinking away the tears that blurred her vision. “We’re going to take care of you. Just hang on, please, Nathaniel. Hang on.” She reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. With a moan, he slumped into the dirt.

“You have to hang on. You promised. You promised you wouldn’t be like the others. You can’t leave me,” Cora called frantically.

Anna grabbed her by the shoulders. “We have to get him back to the wagon. Where did that shot come from?”

Cora stared up at Anna. Fear and cold fury raced through her. She couldn’t think but one thought. “I don’t know,” she hissed. “But he saved my life.” Tears rolled down her face. “He pushed me aside and took that bullet for me.”

W
ith Anna’s help
, Cora managed to get Nathaniel to his feet and to the wagon. Caroline and Patrick had moved aside crates and sacks to make room for him to lie on the straw mattress that had served as a bed for her sisters. His wound bled heavily, soaking his shirt on both sides.

“I need linen to stop the bleeding.” Cora issued orders to everyone around her. Her sole focus was on the man who drifted in and out of consciousness. His eyes fluttered open and a grimace spread across his face. He stumbled forward, but leaned heavily on her. Cora struggled to keep him upright.

“You have to help me, Nathaniel,” she groaned. “Can you climb into the wagon?”

He nodded and braced his hands on the tailgate, then pulled himself into the bed of the rig. He immediately fell forward.

“Crawl to the mattress.” Cora gasped for air as she pulled and tugged on his uninjured arm. He was as heavy as lead and wouldn’t budge. “Come on,” she hissed. Her heart pounded in her chest. She didn’t want to do any more damage to his injury. She hadn’t even been able to check to see how badly he was wounded yet.

Fear for Nathaniel’s life gave her strength. Closing off the thought that he must be in extreme pain, she leaned forward and yelled in his ear. “Move, Nathaniel.”

He must have heard her. With an agonizing groan, he dragged his body forward and onto the mattress. He went limp instantly.

“Nathaniel?” Cora’s heart pounded up into her throat and a jolt of dread sliced through every inch of her.

He lay on his stomach, his head pressed against one of the linen pillows. Cora reached her hand under his neck. She breathed a sigh of relief when her fingers found his pulse. It was weak, but it was there.

“I need that hot water,” she called to no one in particular.

Cora lifted his injured shoulder, eliciting another groan. She cringed and let go, for fear of causing additional pain. The bed of the wagon creaked. Anna ducked in through the back and pushed her way past the trunks.

“Here’s some water. I’ve got Patrick starting a fire. This will have to do for now until the water in the kettle gets hot.”

Cora glanced up and smiled at her friend. Her lips trembled.

“Help me get his shirt off,” she whispered. “I don’t know if it’s better if he’s on his back or on his stomach. Can you hold him so I can remove his belt?”

Anna tugged Nathaniel’s upper body sideways while Cora unbuckled his hunting belt. It fell against one of the trunks with a dull thud. Memories of the time she’d asked him to remove that same belt flooded her mind. A quick smile passed over her lips. Weeks ago, she’d thought he’d stolen her horse and she’d threatened him with a shotgun. Now, he might not live to see another day, and she was desperate to help him.

“I’m not going to let you die,” she said through gritted teeth with a firm resolve. Tugging and pulling, she managed to peel his shirt up and over his head. She tossed it outside.

She pressed a towel against the gaping tear in the flesh on his back, then quickly reached for another to push against the hole in his chest.

“Is the bullet still in there?” Anna asked, her eyes wide. She averted her gaze from the bloody sight.

“I don’t think so. It looks like it went straight through.”

Anna sighed audibly. “That’s good, right? At least we don’t have to worry about removing a bullet.”

Cora nodded. “Yeah, I think so,” she answered weakly. But how much damage had been done inside?

“Lay him onto his belly, Anna. I’ve got a towel pressed to his chest. That should help stop the bleeding on that side.”

Gently, they rolled him back onto his stomach. Cora lifted the towel she still pressed against his back. The cloth was soaked crimson.

“Once the bleeding stops, I can clean and bandage the wound.”

“There’s so much blood. It might not stop on its own. He might need stitches,” Anna said, her eyes going wide. Her face was already pale. “We’ve never stitched up a person before. We’ve never done anything like this. I don’t know the first thing about doctoring up a gunshot wound.” Her voice rose in pitch with every word she uttered.

Cora raised her head to her friend with a determined stare. She clamped her free hand around Anna’s wrist. “If that’s what it takes, then I’ll sew him up.” Their eyes met and held. Anna nodded.

“What’s keeping that hot water?” Cora called. Tears welled up in her eyes. She brushed aside Nathaniel’s hair that clung to his damp face. His skin had turned cold and clammy. At least she could see some movement from him that he was breathing.

“I’ll go see what’s going on outside.” Anna scrambled from the wagon. She looked as if she was going to be sick.

Cora adjusted her seat next to Nathaniel, tucking her legs up underneath her. She leaned over him, pressing the blood-soaked towel to his wound. The tips of her fingers were caked with his dried blood. A quiet shudder passed through her. She had no knowledge about gunshot wounds. The worst she’d ever tended was Patrick’s skinned knees.

Her free hand reached out and touched the hard planes of his muscles along his back. He was lean and strong. It was inconceivable that in the blink of an eye, this healthy man could lose his life.

“Don’t you dare die on me, you hear?” she whispered as a tear dripped onto his shoulder and rolled down his arm.

Nathaniel stirred. His eyes fluttered open and a faint smile passed over his face. “Wouldn’t want to do anything to make you mad,” he rasped, his words barely audible.

His head turned slightly away from the mattress and his unfocused eyes looked up at her. “I’m sorry,” he added just as his eyes fell closed again.

Cora leaned forward. She touched her trembling fingers to the thick stubble on his face.

“What are you sorry for, you silly man? I’m the one who’s sorry.” She squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed. “For everything.”

Nathaniel shifted. He moved his hand to rest on her lap. Cora’s eyes flew open. “You’re an amazing woman, Cora Wilder.” His words were labored and laced with pain. “Let me see the spark in your eyes.”

Cora shook her head. He was babbling nonsense. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I’ll be good as new in a while.”

“You saved my life,” she breathed and leaned in closer.

His faint smile was back. “I promised I’d always keep you safe.”

Her chest tightened at his words. He’d kept all his promises. Warmth flowed through her, squeezing at her heart.

“I love you, Nathaniel Wilder.” The tips of her fingers caressed his cheek and she leaned in lower to touch her lips to the corner of his mouth. Nathaniel groaned.

“I’ve been wanting to hear you say that,” he rasped. “Kiss me again.”

She had to strain her ears to even hear him. His eyes closed and his head relaxed into the pillow with a low moan, but the smile remained on his lips.

Cora wiped at her face and sniffled. She pressed her lips to his cheek, but there was no response. She closed her eyes, imagining the way he’d kissed her a week ago. Why had she agreed to his foolish arrangement of a marriage in name only? And why was he so damned honorable?

Cora lifted her head. “I want you to break your promise to me, Nathaniel.” She smiled, and wiped away fresh tears.

She lifted the towel away from his gaping wound. Blood instantly trickled from the hole. The cloth in her hand was saturated enough that she could probably wring it out. Her head darted around until her eyes fell on a fresh piece of cloth. She grabbed it and pressed it against the wound.

“Dammit, I need more linen,” she called heatedly. “Caroline, tear one of my petticoats to make some bandages.”

Seconds later, her wide-eyed sister scrambled into the rig. She glanced toward Nathaniel and a gasp escaped her mouth. Averting her eyes, she reached into one of the trunks and pulled out a petticoat. She began ripping large strips from it, starting at the hem.

“I was helping heat water. I thought you had it handled.”

“I don’t have it handled.” Cora’s voice grew loud with frustration and fear. She punched at the trunk next to her and winced at the pain. “I don’t have anything handled.” She ran a trembling hand over her face, swiping back some hair that had come loose from her braid. If the bleeding didn’t stop, Nathaniel would die.

Cora straightened and filled her lungs with a deep breath. He’d been there for her and saved her life too many times for her to fail him now. It was her turn to save him. The only way the bleeding would stop was if she sewed up the holes. She glanced at her sister who stared back at her with a stunned expression.

“Put pressure on that wound so I can find my sewing kit.”

The words had barely left her mouth, when the distinct sounds of hoofbeats reached her ear. Dread rushed through her, making her tremble all over again. Had the shooter returned?

“Hold that towel to his wound.” She grabbed for Caroline’s hand and pressed it down on top of Nathaniel’s injury, then scrambled from the rig.

Squinting into the late afternoon sun, her head darted around the camp. Anna pulled Patrick close to her, while Josie stood next to them, holding their rifle in her hands. Her sister shot Cora a fearful look.

Two riders approached, slowing their horses from a gallop to a walk. Before the strangers reached the camp, Cora rushed to where she’d dropped Nathaniel’s rifle.

The two stopped their horses a short distance away. Their eyes slowly roamed through the camp, lingered on Nathaniel’s horses, then rested on Cora.

One of the riders raised his hand in greeting. “Howdy,” he called.

She stepped forward, the rifle held high. Her eyes narrowed. These men looked vaguely familiar. They were both clad in buckskin britches and shirts, much like her husband. On closer scrutiny, the similarity to each other in their facial features was striking, as was their resemblance to Nathaniel.

The young man who’d called out a greeting, and who couldn’t be more than a year older than Caroline, pointed at Nathaniel’s horses.

“Are you the owner of those horses?”

Cora swallowed. “Who’s asking?”

The youth smirked and stepped from the saddle. Cora’s knees went weak as he strode toward her.

“Travis Wilder, ma’am.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder to the other young man still sitting on his horse behind him. “That’s my brother, Trevor.”

Cora expelled a loud sigh of relief. She lowered her rifle, and rushed up to him. “You’re Nathaniel’s brothers?”

The youth cocked his head to the side, clearly surprised by her question. He assessed her through narrowed eyes.

“Yes’m. Nate was supposed to bring back supplies for winter. He hasn’t come home yet,” he said slowly, still scrutinizing her. His gaze swept over the rest of the camp, resting on Anna, Josie, and Patrick.

“Nathaniel’s been shot,” Cora blurted, unable to hold back a sob. “He’s in the wagon. I was trying to get the bleeding to stop when you rode up.”

Travis Wilder’s face instantly turned serious. His brother jumped from his horse’s back and rushed to the wagon. Travis was right behind him, and Cora followed on their heels. Without stopping, the first youth, Trevor, leapt up onto the tailgate. Seconds later, he called out from inside the wagon.

“Trav, I need some horsehair.”

Travis sprinted back to his horse.

“What are you doing?” Cora called into the wagon.

“You got a needle?” Trevor asked from inside. The question was directed at Caroline, who still held the towel to Nathaniel’s back.

“In my sewing kit.”

“Let me have it.”

Cora climbed up into the wagon after darting a quick glance at Anna and Josie, who stood by with wide eyes, clutching the rifle in front of her the way Nathaniel had taught her. Patrick looked at Cora, then at the young man who ran toward her. He reached up and handed her several long strands of hair from his horse’s tail.

“You got any whiskey?” Trevor asked.

“We don’t have any alcohol,” Caroline stammered.

“We’ve boiled some water,” Cora chimed in and motioned for Anna to bring her the kettle. She handed Trevor the horsehair and set the kettle on one of the trunks. Could she trust him to doctor Nathaniel’s wound? He was so young.

“Guess it’ll have to do.” Trevor dipped the hair in the scalding water, then quickly threaded the needle Caroline held out to him.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Cora inched her way into the wagon, squeezing between some sacks of flour and a trunk to get to Nathaniel.

Trevor shrugged while focusing on his brother. “I’ve sewn up a bullet hole or two, but mostly wounds from arrows or stabbings. Learned real good from a healer up on the Yellowstone.”

Cora shook her head. “Please, help him. Don’t let him die.”

Trevor stared at her as if she’d sprouted another head. He studied her silently for a moment.

“Nathaniel’s my husband,” Cora answered his silent question. His brows shot up instantly.

Outside, Travis smirked. “Get him fixed up, Trev. I gotta hear it from Nate before I believe it.”

Trevor peeled his eyes away from her and looked at Caroline. “Move that cloth so I can see what I’m looking at.”

Caroline did as he asked. Blood immediately oozed out of the wound before Trevor stuck a finger into the gaping hole, eliciting a moan from Nathaniel. He squirmed and his face contorted into a grimace. Cora clenched her hand into a fist to stop from reaching out to the youth and yanking his hand away.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” She glared at Nathaniel’s brother. How could he be so callous?

Trevor raised his eyes to her and grinned. “You’re really his wife?” he asked, disbelief in his voice.

“Yes, and I’m not going to stand by and watch you torture and kill him,” Cora huffed. “I would expect you to go about this without hurting him any more than he’s already suffering.”

Trevor stared at her as if she were daft. “I was making sure the bullet was out.” He blinked and shook his head, then leaned over Nathaniel.

“Nate, can you hear me?”

A low groan was his answer.

“Nathaniel?” Cora leaned forward, scooting closer. She slipped her hand in his. A weak squeeze was his response. “Hold on, Nathaniel. Your brother’s going to fix you up.”