The driver threw out his arm, slamming her back against the wagon bench. "You keep yer hands to yerself, doc." His voice came out rough.
She struggled to free herself, but his arm was like an iron bar across her chest. How could an old man possess such strength? "Let me go."
He shook the reins, though this time she was thankful the mules didn't plod any faster.Lord, help me.
She could leap off the wagon and make a run for it. She might even be able to untie her gelding before he could climb down and catch her.
As though he read her mind, his hand gripped her, keeping his arm locked over her chest. He slipped the reins in the keeper slot, then pulled out a handgun and aimed it at her.
As she stared down the small barrel, she struggled to make her mind work past the strangeness of it. That tiny little black hole could produce a bullet at a speed quick enough to end her life.
And what would happen to Naomi?
The thought jerked her from the stupor like a pail of ice water, washing away the fog.
"What do you want?"
He sent a glance ahead of them, just quick enough to make sure the mules weren't wandering into a tree. Then he narrowed his gaze at her. "A doctor."
A tiny bit of her panic eased. He had someone sick or injured. She just had to convince him to go to her sister before she tended his friend.
She swallowed but took care not to move any other part of her body. "I'll gladly provide medical care if you have someone in need. I already said that. I can't be away from my sister long though. Can you tell me what the problem is?"
He sent another longer look forward, then turned back to her. "You'll see."
Her insides twisted. Why couldn't he just tell her what was wrong with his patient? Why did they have to sneak off the road and into the woods?
She cast a glance around, taking in the dense trees and rocky terrain. If she had to make a run for it, she could follow the wagon tracks back to the road.
But the wagon lurched to a stop. In front of them stood only trees and brush.
The driver kept the gun pointed at her as he moved his grip to her arm closest to him. "You just get down with me."
He half-dragged her off the bench as he climbed down, and she scrambled to keep her feet beneath her. The iron in his grip helped keep her upright.
The driver shoved her through the dense foliage, the branches scratching her face and arms. This wasn’t a trail as far as she could tell.
Suddenly, the trees opened up and they stepped into a small clearing. In the center stood a wood slab building, its walls weathered and leaning a little. The driver led her to the front door and stopped. "Thomas!"
A man's voice called from inside the building. "What d’ya want?"
The driver shoved Dinah forward and pulled open the door. "Got yer doctor."
He pushed her into the building, finally releasing her arm. She stumbled to a stop in a room barely lit by a single lantern. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she surveyed the area.
A form lay on a bed in the corner, barely raising the thin blanket. But then the person pushed up on an elbow, revealing wild bushy hair poking out in all directions.
She forced herself to take a step forward, then stopped. “What’s wrong?” Though the figure looked emaciated, he might still have the strength to hurt her. The driver had certainly surprised her with the power in his grip.
The driver leaned against the door frame, the gun still in his hand. "He took a bad fall. Broke his leg, I think."
She stayed where she was as she spoke to Thomas. "May I see your leg?"
He glared at her but then slowly lowered himself back onto the bedtick, flipping up the ragged blanket to reveal a swollen limb with a badly infected wound on the side of the calf. A putrid odor filled the air, even stronger than the musty scent of the building.
She stepped forward again. The driver hadn’t been lying about the need for medical care. And as bad as that wound looked, the injured one probably had a high fever that weakened him.
She didn’t touch the leg, just bent over to peer at the wound. Though the light was too dim to see well, she could make out a protruding bone amidst the puss and swollen, infected flesh. The gash had festered so badly that he might already be suffering from blood poisoning.
