Read Online The Wicked West by Victoria Dahl - Free Book Online Page B

voice barked. “Get the hell out of here.”
    “But he’s—”
    “You’re getting blood on your Sunday dress.”
    The heavy weight lifted abruptly off his chest.
    “Now, get on out of here so I can take a look.”
    Hale lifted his heavy eyes and saw the red tip of Doc’s nose. Hopefully it was early and the man hadn’t been drinking yet.
    A ripping sound tore through the air, and if the accompanying pain was any indication, Doc was tearing his skin wide open. Hale roared.
    “Shirt was dried on,” Doc explained without a hint of sympathy in his voice. His fingers set off another explosion of agony.
    “You sadist,” Hale hissed. “Let me die in peace.”
    More poking and prodding. Hale felt hands holding him down, only vaguely aware of Brady’s worried voice. The light went gray, but Doc’s shout managed to travel through the din. “You ain’t dying, you pussy.”
    “What?”
    “Get him some water.” Rough fingers pried open one of Hale’s eyes. He flinched from the light. “You lost a lot of blood, and your side’s as wide open as a whore’s legs, but your guts are intact.”
    “H-how?”
    “Bullet broke your rib. I bet it hurts like a bitch, too. Every time you move, the broken ends rub together. But it stopped the bullet and bounced it right into your arm. You’ll be fine.”
    “Really?” He knew that was important, though he couldn’t muster up anything more than idle curiosity at this point.
    “Sure. Long as gangrene don’t set in, of course. Now, hold your breath. I’m going to wash this bitch out with whiskey. You ready?”
    Hale wasn’t, but the blast of pain came, anyway.
     
    Hours had passed since they’d taken him inside. Lily’s palms were gouged with nail marks, her feet sore from pacing.
    He’d been shot, she knew that. And he’d looked dead to the people who’d seen him dragged into town. But he couldn’t be dead. Or could he?
    The doctor had stayed for nearly an hour before leaving. Lily had rushed out to stop him, but he’d muttered something about gossiping hens and brushed past her without answering.
    She’d been relegated to the same level of information as the rest of the general public. Those few people who could count themselves close to Sheriff Hale were locked inside with him. Lily was not.
    At the very start of their affair, she’d promised not to so much as greet him on the street, but that seemed a distant and meaningless pledge now. He might be dead. He might be dying. What if she was missing the chance to say farewell? To tell him what a good man he was and how much comfort he’d brought her in this country of strangers?
    And she was so afraid. If he died, how could she live with the knowledge that his warm, powerful body had been reduced to dust? That his hard brown eyes would never soften with a smile again?
    A sob rose up and snuck past her control. Lily brushed the tears away and walked to her door. She could pass for a nosy neighbor. His friends wouldn’t guess the truth.
    Clutching a crumpled handkerchief in her fist, Lily slipped out her front door. The sun hung low in the sky. Perhaps she should wait until dark so the rest of the town wouldn’t see her standing at his door. He’d want her to wait, but what if he didn’t last that long?
    That kind of regret would be too much to bear, so she set her chin high and stepped calmly down to the street. He was her next door neighbor. Of course she was concerned.
    A young man opened the door, his face slack with exhaustion.
    “I hoped to…I’m Mrs. Anders, the sheriff’s neighbor. I hoped to see him.”
    “I’m sorry, ma’am. Sheriff Hale isn’t up to visitors right now.” A star glinted against his shirt, making clear his relationship to the sheriff.
    “I know. It’s only that…I’m so concerned. H-he was shot?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “May I come in?”
    His face crumpled a bit. He could hardly say no to a woman standing on the threshold, but he didn’t want to violate Sheriff