The pain in his ribs flared, stealing his breath.
Lord, please. We need a miracle.
Gunshots cracked the air. How many guards had come running?
The men holding him jerked and spun.
What was this? They seemed surprised, their attention snapping to the new threat.
Through the chaos came a sight he could barely believe. He must be dreaming. Out of his mind from pain. Or maybe unconscious.
Horses galloped into the fray, and were those…Jude and Miles? And Two Stones too.
Hope surged through him. Where had they come from? This had to be a hallucination.
But the bullets whizzing around them were very real. The man holding him jerked, his grip loosening. Gil fought to get his arms free, pushing through the fire in his middle.
The scene unfolded like something out of a dream, surreal and impossible, yet undeniably real. An answer to a desperate prayer.
Two Stones leapt from his horse beside Gil, slamming into the man who still held him. They grappled on the ground, fists flying and grunts filling the air. Gil staggered back, his ribsscreaming with each movement, but he couldn't give up now. Not when Jess needed him.
Jude appeared at his side in an instant, hands gripping Gil's arm. "Let's get out of here." He tried to hoist Gil onto his horse, but Gil fought him.
“Jess. We have to get her.” He pointed at the trees where she struggled against her captor. Even in the shadows, he could see the way she fought with every ounce of her strength. She must be terrified.
Jude’s gaze flicked from Gil to the chaos erupting around them.
Bullets whizzed past, the sharp cracks of gunfire exploding in the night.
“Miles,” Jude shouted. "Take Gil and cover me!" He swung onto his horse and plunged his heels into the gelding’s side.
Having mounts definitely gave his brothers an advantage.
Miles was already standing beside his mare, firing at the advancing guards. Two Stones had dispatched the man who’d held Gil and now leapt onto his own horse, leaning low and to the side so he wouldn’t be a target as he shot toward the guards clustering in the trees.
There were so many of them. No shots came from the direction where Jedidiah had been, though. Either he lay dead or he’d moved around to join his men.
Gil turned back to Jess in time to see Jude had reached her and somehow freed her. He was now pulling her onto his mount.
Thank You, God.
They had to escape.
Jedidiah’s men seemed to have multiplied by ten. Even so, somehow, none of their shots had landed—either in horse or human.
Gil moved to his youngest brother and reached up for the saddle. “Let’s go!” But his rib made it impossible to pull himselfup. The struggle alone lit his body on fire. He collapsed sideways on the saddle, sapped out.
Then Miles pushed him up, and Gil landed in the seat. He hunched low over the animal’s neck, grabbing his ribs to quell the flames inside. The pain seared hot, stealing his focus. He could only make out blurry movements in the black around him.
Miles climbed up behind him, and the horse pivoted, then shot into a run.
The animal’s pounding hooves shook every part of Gil, keeping him in that hunched position. One hand pressed hard against his ribs to hold them together, the other clutching the saddle to keep himself aboard.
Jess. He had to make sure Jude got to her. Had the guard harmed her before his brother intervened?
Had she’d been struck or injured badly enough to hurt the baby?
His stomach nearly cast up its accounts right there.
