“Nay!” Bethie heard herself scream, heard what sounded like several shots being fired.
She didn’t realize Malcolm had changed targets until the ball struck her in the shoulder.
Searing pain.
Her own startled gasp.
The swirl of gray sky as she fell from Rosa’s back.
Darkness.
***
The first thing Bethie became aware of was pain. Her left arm seemed to be on fire.
The second was the deep baritone of Nicholas’s voice, the feel of his strong arms around her. “Bethie?” He sounded anxious.
Then she heard his father speak. “We must get her back. I’ve bound it as best I can. The ball passed cleanly through, and the bleeding is not bad, but she needs a surgeon.”
A surgeon? What had happened?
“I’ll ride ahead, fetch the best I can find to the inn.” That was Jamie.
Then she remembered.
Malcolm!He’d shot her!
She struggled to open her eyes, saw Nicholas’s worried face looking down at her. “Malcolm...”
“Easy, Bethie. He won’t bother you again.”
“How’s the lass? Poor thing!” This voice she didn’t recognize. Then she saw his face, remembered. He was one of the frontiersmen from Paxton. He’d been standing in front of Nicholas, talking with him. Their leader. “I never did like that man, but I cannae believe he would try to kill his own daughter. It’s a good thing your father and uncle are fast with a gun and aim true, Kenleigh. We’ll bury the bastard off the side of the road here and be done wi’ him.”
Malcolm was dead? But then what would happen to...
“My mother... we must... help her.”
“Shh, love. Don’t worry about anything. We’ll take care of it.” Then Nicholas spoke to the leader of the frontiersmen. “I’ll send Franklin a message as soon as I’m able and ask him to meet with you this afternoon.”
“Very well, Kenleigh. We’ll send the men home and await Franklin here. But tell me—did the Quakers truly roll cannon into the town squares for fear of us?”
“Aye, they did. If you wanted to lay bare their hypocrisy, you’ve done it. It’s a lesson they won’t soon forget. Now I must tend to my wife.”
“May God go wi’ you both.”
“I’m sorry, Bethie. I know this is going to hurt.” Then Nicholas scooped her into his arms and stood.
She gritted her teeth against the pain as he lifted her onto the stallion’s back and mounted behind her.
***
The next thing she knew she was lying in their bed in the inn. Nicholas sat beside her, his face lined with fatigue and worry. “Nicholas.”
He smiled at her, his gaze tender. “I’m here, love. How do you feel?”
“Thirsty. And my arm hurts.”
He lifted her head, held a cup of cool water to her lips. “The ball passed through the flesh of your shoulder. The surgeon says it should heal cleanly if we can keep it from festering.”
