Dangerous Men (Flynn Family Saga Book 2) (14 page)

Sam took her in his arms and hugged
her.  “Oh, Magpie.  The God I believe in isn’t like that.  You did the right
thing, you hear me?  I would have done exactly the same if I’d had the sense to
go look for him myself.”

Maggie lifted her head.  “If you
had, you might be dead, Papa.  That was a heart attack.”

Sam sighed.  “Did you hear what I
said?”

Maggie shook her head.

“I said you did the right thing.”

Maggie looked away.  “I don’t
believe that.”

Sam sighed.  He kissed the top of
her head.  “Then I’ll have to believe it for you.  For a little while.”

Maggie nodded without looking at
him.

Sam cleared his throat.  “Maggie?”

“Yes, Papa?”

He regarded her levelly.  “Is this
my last season?”

Maggie swallowed hard and nodded. 
Slowly, she grinned.  “That is, if you want to live to see your grandchildren.”

Sam grinned back.  “Grandchildren,
huh?  I think that’s the best bargain you ever offered me.”

Maggie laughed.

Sam put his arm around her and led
her back to the fire.

*  *  *

Every day, Maggie and Flynn rode
together.  Occasionally, he had to scout for water or a passable trail, but
even then, Maggie rode with him.

Once, they stopped in a sheltered
valley.  The surrounding countryside was desert, but the valley had a small
spring that fell into a pool.  Green plants spread out from the pool like a
lady’s skirt when she curtsied.  Tiny yellow flowers dotted the ground.

Maggie dismounted and picked one of
the flowers.  “Oh, Flynn!  It’s beautiful.”

Flynn grinned at her.  He slid off
Scout’s back and kissed her.  “Oh, Maggie.”  He shut his eyes and rested his
cheek against the top of her head.  “Do you remember the day I caught you a
fish?”

She nodded.

He sighed and tilted her chin up.  “I
wanted to show you this valley.  This valley and the canyon and the stone trees
and all the wonders Alexander Ridgeton showed me.  And then—then, I wanted us
to find our own wonders.”

Maggie nodded eagerly.  “I’d like
that, Flynn.”

He kissed her again.

Feelings bloomed inside of her, a
kind of sweet aching that she had no name for.

Flynn drew a deep breath and moved
away from her.  “We have to be careful, Maggie.”

She blinked at him.  “Of what?”

He smiled at her tenderly.  “Of
this.  Kissing.  Touching.  I don’t want to make love to you until we’re
married.”

“Oh.”  Maggie’s face reddened, and
she looked down at her hands.

Gently, he took her chin between
his thumb and forefinger and raised it so their eyes met.  His expression was
solemn.  “To the Lakota, everything is sacred:  the wind that blows the prairie
grass, water that gives us life, the fire that warms us, the earth that
sustains us.”  He smiled.  “And this, especially this, the feelings between a
man and woman.”

Maggie blinked back tears.  “It was
so ugly, what the women did in the saloon.”

Flynn nodded solemnly.  “I know.  I
tried to find solace with one of those girls when I came back from the war, and
it just wasn’t right.”

“Oh.”  Maggie felt small and young
and inexperienced.

Flynn touched her cheek tenderly. 
Then, he grinned.  “It’s all right, Magpie.  I’ll teach you how.”

Maggie gasped.  She put her hands
on her hips.  “Robert Sean Flynn, do you read minds?”

“Nope.”  His grin broadened.  “Just
yours.”  He boosted her onto Patches’ back, and then he mounted Scout.

It was the happiest day of Maggie’s
life.

*  *  *

Finally, they reached Tahoe.  It
was dark by the time they made camp.  Morning dawned clear and cold.  Maggie
shivered and huddled under the blanket Flynn had given her.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”  Ben
stood over her.  “Day’s awastin’.”

Smiling, Maggie got up and followed
the aroma of frying bacon to Frank’s cook fire.  He grinned at her.  “Good
morning, Maggie.  I hope you’ll keep me in mind when you and Flynn start up
your wagon train.”

“As what?  Chief poisoner?”  Flynn
came up behind Maggie.  He laid his hands on her shoulders.  Warmth filled her,
like coffee in a mug.

Maggie turned and smiled at him. 
He kissed her, right there in front of Ben and Frank.  Maggie blushed, and they
all laughed.  She tried to scowl like Sam.  “Who made the coffee?”

Flynn’s grin broadened.  “I did,
Maggie.”

She nodded and poured herself a
cup.  She turned to Frank.  “Do you mean it?  Would you work for us?”

“Of course I would, Maggie.”  He
patted her hand.

Maggie sighed and took a sip of her
coffee.  “How about you, Ben?”

He grinned.  “That depends.”

“Oh.  On what?”

He tilted his hat back.  “Who’s
bossing the outfit, you or Flynn?”

Maggie smiled.  “We haven’t decided
yet.”

Flynn sat down next to her.  “It
will be Maggie.  I’m just not cut out to be a wagon master.”

Ben grinned.  “In that case, I’m
in.  Of course, we’ll have to renegotiate my salary.”

“Be careful, Ben.  Maggie got three
passages out of me for the price of one.  Remember?”  Sam sat down next to Ben
and poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Yup.”  Ben smiled at Maggie.  “And
she earned every penny of it too, especially when cholera hit the train.”

Sam smiled proudly at Maggie.  “Yes,
she did.”

Kate came out of the wagon.  She
smiled at Sam and kissed his cheek.  She sat next to Sam and poured herself a
cup of coffee.  She put it to her lips and hesitated.  “Who made the coffee?”

The men laughed, and Maggie smiled.

“I did, Mrs. Anders.”  Flynn
grinned at her.

Kate grinned back and nodded.  “In
that case...”  She took a sip and sighed.

The morning flew by.  Maggie was
busy making sure the wagons were up to the dangerous climb.  Ben checked the
rigging on the windlass, and Sam checked it again.  Then, they began to winch
the wagons up the steep slopes of Mount Doloroso.  It was dark by the time they
reached the top.  A cold wind blew from the north, bringing clouds with it. 
Maggie looked up at the sky and watched as the clouds scudded across the moon. 
She looked at Sam.  “Papa?”

He looked worried.  Two parallel
lines creased his brow.  “I know, Maggie.  It’s going to be close.”

Maggie shivered.  Flynn wrapped his
blanket around her and then he sat behind her and wrapped his arms around her. 
Between the warmth of his body and the fire, Maggie warmed up quickly.  Despite
her worry, she was happy.  She sighed and leaned back against Flynn’s chest.

*  *  *

Dawn came, gray and threatening. 
Sam looked at the sky and swore softly.

“Sam?”  Ben stood beside him.  “Do
we go or stay?”

Sam hesitated.  “If we stay up
here, and we get snowed in, we could starve to death.  We go.”

Maggie swallowed hard.  She began
to wonder if she would be able to make decisions like that.  She helped get the
wagons ready, and they started the dangerous task of winching them down the
mountain.  The first six wagons made it down safely.

Then, it began to snow.

Sam swore again.  His face was
white, and his breathing was labored.

Maggie touched his arm.  “Papa? 
Did you take your medicine this morning?”

He scowled at her and shook his
head.

Maggie went back to her wagon and
took out the bottle of digitalis.  Sam sighed and drank it.  Maggie bowed her
head.  “I’m sorry, Papa.”

He laid his hand on her shoulder
gently.  “You’re right, Magpie.  I couldn’t help those people if I had another
attack.”

Maggie raised her head.  She
squeezed Sam’s hand once.  Then, she went back to the line of wagons and helped
attach the block and tackle to the undercarriage the next one in line.

One by one, the wagons crawled down
the steep side of Mount Doloroso.  Noon came, and the snow came down harder. 
They didn’t stop for lunch.  They kept on working through the afternoon.  Near
suppertime, the snow stopped and the clouds thinned a little.  Maggie breathed
a sigh of relief.  She helped tie ropes to the Lawson wagon.  The windlass
groaned as the men turned the crank.  Slowly, slowly, the wagon eased down the
slope.  The snow began to fall again, even heavier than before, coating the
rock with a slick, white frosting.

Then, a third of the way down, one
of the ropes snapped.  The whiplash struck one of the outriders in the chest,
and he plummeted off the trail.  His cry faded swiftly as he fell.

Maggie’s heart stopped.  She ran
toward the edge.

Sam grabbed her arms and pulled her
back.  He shook his head.  “There’s nothing you can do for him, Maggie.”

She started to cry.  She walked
back to Kate, who held her gently.

Flynn mounted Scout and rode toward
the stranded wagon.

“Flynn!”  Maggie started toward
him.

Sam shook his head.  “Let him work,
Maggie.”

Maggie shut her eyes and nodded. 
She opened her eyes again.  Flynn tied the end of the broken rope around his
saddle horn.  He held the tension.  Scout took small steps backward as they
cranked the wagon the rest of the way down.  When they reached the bottom,
people cheered.  Maggie could hear it dimly.  Her heart pounded in her chest. 
Flynn took off his hat and waved it to the crowd of travelers.  Then, he turned
Scout and started back up the mountain.  At one of the switchbacks, Scout lost
his footing.  Maggie watched in horror as the chestnut stallion fell over the
edge.  She heard him scream as his cannon bone snapped.

Maggie leaped onto Patches’ back
and rode to the place where the horse had fallen.  Scout lay fifteen feet
below, wedged against a rock.

Flynn was pinned beneath him.

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

Panic seared through Flynn’s body
like molten lead as Scout slid toward the edge.  Instinctively, he tried to
turn the horse, but Scout’s hooves had no traction on the snow, and the two of
them plunged over the edge.  Flynn tried to jump from Scout’s back, but his
foot caught in the stirrup.  They struck a ledge, hard.  Flynn heard Scout’s
cannon bone snap at the same instant that pain clamped its jaws around his own
leg.  Scout screamed and thrashed, sending searing pain from Flynn’s ankle to
his groin.

“Flynn!”  Maggie’s voice broke
through his pain and fear.

“Maggie?”  Flynn looked up at her.

“I’m here, Flynn.”

He swallowed hard.  “Can you—can
you shoot Scout from there?  My pistol is pinned under me.”

Maggie’s face went white.  “I don’t
know.”

Scout screamed again.

Flynn panted against the pain.  “Please,
Maggie.  Try.”

Maggie nodded.  She disappeared for
long, agonizing moments.  She came back to the edge of the precipice, carrying
her rifle, and lay down on her belly.  Her hands shook.

Flynn shut his eyes and clenched
his teeth against the fear that threatened to shatter him.  Scout’s head
flailed up and down, and pain jabbed him with each movement of the stallion’s
head.

“Flynn, can you hold his head
still?”  Maggie’s voice was calm.

Flynn opened his eyes.  He nodded
and pulled gently on the reins.  For a moment, Scout fought him.  Flynn raised
his upper body and reached as far as he could.  He patted Scout’s neck.  “Easy,
boy.  Easy, big fella.  It’ll all be over in a moment.”  Tears burned Flynn’s
eyes, and his throat tightened.

Scout whickered softly and lay
still.

In the silence, Flynn could hear
Maggie’s breathing.  Her face was still white, but her hands had stopped
shaking.  She drew a deep breath, sighted and squeezed the trigger.  The shot
sounded terribly loud in the silence of the mountain.  Scout screamed one more
time and lay still.

Flynn shut his eyes and swallowed a
sob.

“Can you get free?”

Flynn pushed hard until pain edged
his vision with darkness again.  He shook his head.

Sam’s head appeared over the edge. 
He swore softly and then called to the rest of the men.  Flynn’s right leg
throbbed in time to his heartbeat as the men scrambled to bring the block and
tackle down the slippery slope of the trail.  Ben started to tie a rope around
his waist, but Sam shook his head.  “You have a wife and kids, Ben.  I can’t
let you do this.”

Ben stood toe to toe with Sam.  “And
I can’t let Flynn die!”

“I’ll do it.”  Frank pushed through
the crowd of men.  He stood in front of the Major like a bantam rooster
standing up to a bloodhound.  Slowly, Sam smiled.  “All right, Frank.”

They tied a rope around Frank’s
waist and began to lower him down.  The wind caught him, and he swung like a
pendulum.  Flynn shut his eyes.  The motion made him dizzy, and bile rose in
the back of his throat.

“Easy, Flynn.  Don’t move.”  Frank’s
voice sounded hoarse.

Flynn opened his eyes.  Frank’s
face was pale, but his hands were steady as he patted Flynn’s shoulder.  Frank
drew a deep breath and looked up.  “Throw me two more ropes.”

The ropes came down.  Frank tied
one around Flynn’s chest.  The other he tied around Scout’s hindquarters.  “Pull!”

Scout’s weight left Flynn’s leg. 
Frank pulled with surprising strength.  Flynn cried out in pain, but his leg
came out from beneath Scout’s body.

Frank lowered Flynn gently.  He
looked back up the mountain.  “Send down the stretcher.”

That, too, swung in the wind.  The
snow was coming down hard now, and Flynn shivered with the cold.  He closed his
eyes, and for a moment, he thought he was back in Elmira.

“Hold on, Flynn.  The stretcher is
almost here.”  The stretcher clattered against the side of the mountain.  “This
is gonna hurt like hell for a minute, but then you’ll be all right.  On the
count of three.  One.  Two.”  On two, Frank wrestled him onto the stretcher. 
Flynn bit back a scream.  Frank tied Flynn securely to the stretcher.  When he
pulled the ropes tight around Flynn’s legs, the agony edged Flynn’s vision with
black.  “Pull him up, Ben!”

The stretcher jolted upward, and
pain drove Flynn into darkness.  Then, the stretcher struck the side of the
mountain, and pain woke him again.  It was getting dark, and the snow was
falling faster and harder.  Flynn tried to call up to the men to stop, to get
down the mountain while there was still time, but by the time he could make his
lips and tongue function, the stretcher had reached the ledge.  Ben and Sam
swung it up and over, and then Maggie knelt beside him and held his hand.  She
held a mug of something warm to his lips.  He took a sip and made a face.  “Too
sweet.”

“Drink it,” she said sternly.

“What is in this?”

“Sugar and water.  You’re in
shock.  Now drink it before I have to hold your nose and pour it down your
gullet.”

In spite of his pain, in spite of
his fear that he would lose his leg, Flynn smiled.  “Yes ma’am.”

Maggie held the mug to his lips
again, and this time, he drank it.

Sam touched her arm.  “Maggie, we
need to get this wagon down the mountain before the snow is too deep.”  Sam’s
voice was soft, but Flynn heard it clearly.

“Papa, no!”  Maggie’s cry echoed
off the side of the mountain.

Flynn opened his eyes.  “Sam’s
right, Maggie.  I’ll be all right.”

Maggie swallowed hard and nodded.

Halfway down the mountain, he lost
consciousness.

*  *  *

When they reached the valley,
Maggie halted the wagon.  She started to climb into the back.

Sam touched her arm.  “Maggie?  Can
you do this?”

Maggie swallowed hard.  “I don’t
know.”

A horseman rode up.  The rider was
a portly man with white hair.  He dismounted stiffly.  “Good evening, Sam.  One
of your men told me there has been an accident.”

Sam grinned.  “It’s good to see
you, Doc.”  His grin faded.  “Maggie, this is Doc Robbins.  Now, can you take
Flynn’s leg if you have to?”

Maggie shook her head.  “I’m sorry,
Papa.”

Sam hugged her briefly.  “Nothing
to be sorry about, Magpie.”  He turned back to Doc.  “He’s in here, Horace.”

The doctor nodded and climbed into
the wagon.  He probed Flynn’s leg with arthritic fingers and frowned.  “It’s
bad, Sam.  I need a hard surface, whiskey, something to use as a tourniquet.  I
brought my own saw.”

“No!”  Flynn struggled to sit up. 
“You can’t take my leg!”

Doc’s expression softened.  “If I
don’t, you’re going to die, son.”

Flynn turned his face away.  “I’d
rather be dead.”

Maggie’s heart constricted
painfully, as if Doc’s tourniquet had somehow gotten twisted around it.  She
drew a deep breath.  “Let me try to save the leg.”

Doc Robbins frowned.  “It’ll only
have to come off later.  And that’s if he doesn’t die of gangrene first.”

Maggie swallowed hard.  She tilted
her chin up and met Doc’s gaze levelly.  “I know.  I still want to try.”

Doc sighed.  “Sam?”

Sam nodded.  “She’s good at
doctoring, Horace.”

Doc nodded once.  “All right, young
lady.  But I’ll be looking over your shoulder the whole time.”

Maggie nodded.  She kept her face
expressionless, but inside, she felt as if she had swallowed a whole swarm of
locusts.  She went to the back of the wagon.  “Frank, boil water.  Ben, bring
me my medical bag.”

Ben nodded and ran to Maggie’s
wagon.

Maggie jumped out of the wagon and
washed her hands in hot water and lye soap.  Her hands were shaking.  Sam took
her hands and squeezed them.  “I have faith in you, Maggie.”

Maggie shut her eyes for a moment,
and Flynn’s words came back to her. 
To the Lakota, everything is sacred: 
the wind that blows the prairie grass, water that gives us life, the fire that
warms us, the earth that sustains us
.  The wind touched Maggie’s hair.  The
fire popped and crackled beside the wagon.  She heard water hissing over the
flames, water needed to save Flynn’s life.  She felt the soft earth beneath her
feet, rich and fertile, promising life.  Strength flowed into her.

Maggie drew a deep breath.  She
opened her eyes and climbed into the wagon.  Sam climbed in behind her.  Flynn
groped for her hand.  She took it.  His hand was so cold that it frightened
her.  She forced herself to smile and squeeze his hand.  “It’s going to be all
right.”

He looked away from her.

“Flynn?”

He turned back to her.  His face
was pale, and she saw the fear in his eyes.

Maggie drew a deep breath.  “I want
to give you some laudanum.”

“No!”

“Yes.”  She drew a deep breath and
let it out.  “Your leg is broken in several places.  It is going to take a
while to get all the bones lined up.  If you thrash around, you are going to
make my job a lot harder.”

Flynn closed his eyes.  “Maggie?”

“Yes, Flynn?”

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?  That Sam won’t buy you
another horse?”

Flynn opened his eyes.  He shook
his head.  “That I’ll lose my leg.”

“Robert Sean Flynn, I expect you to
dance every dance with me at our wedding.”

“Maggie—”

She put her fingers across his
lips.  “Now, are you going to drink this, or am I going to have to have Sam sit
on your chest.”

Flynn chuckled.  “All right,
Magpie.  And I’ll hold you to that promise.  You only dance with me.”

For a moment, tears blurred her vision,
but she blinked them away.  “You’ve got my word, Flynn.”

He shut his eyes.  “That’s good
enough for me.”

Maggie pressed a small vial against
his mouth.  Flynn took a sip and grimaced.  She waited until he fell asleep. 
Then, she began to cut away his pants’ leg.

Bone protruded through the skin in
several places.

She swallowed hard.  Swiftly,
deftly, she cut into the flesh.  She pushed the bones back into place.  She
grabbed the bottle of whiskey and poured it over the wound.  Flynn cried out in
pain.  Maggie held the vial of laudanum to his lips again.  As soon as he was
unconscious, she stitched up the wound.  She finished binding his leg as
quickly as she could.  Then, she ran from the wagon and threw up.  She heard
footsteps behind her and turned, expecting to see Sam.

Horace Robbins stood behind her. 
His face was solemn.  “Young lady, where did you learn that technique?”

“My grandmother used to subscribe
to a British medical magazine.  After she died, I renewed it for myself.”

Horace nodded.  “Where did you go
to school?”

Maggie’s face felt hot.  “I—I
didn’t.  She taught me everything she knew, and then I just figured out the new
things from the magazine.”

Horace sighed.  “She must have been
a remarkable woman.”

“She was.”  Tears stung her eyes,
and her throat ached from trying not to cry.

Horace squeezed her shoulder. 
“It’s all right to cry now, young lady.  The worst is over.  If you ever want
to settle down and practice medicine in one place, I could use a good
assistant.”

Maggie smiled tremulously.  “Thank
you, sir.”  She tilted her chin up again.  “But Flynn and I are going to start
our own wagon train next year.”

Horace met her gaze evenly.  “He
may still lose the leg, Maggie.”

Maggie nodded.  “I know.  But at
least he has a chance now.”

Horace smiled.  “Yes, he does. 
Good night, Maggie.”  He turned and mounted his gelding and rode off as the sun
rose behind the mountains.

Kate came out of the wagon.  She
walked swiftly to Maggie and scowled.  “You, young lady, are going to bed.”

Maggie shook her head.  “Flynn
needs me.”

Kate nodded.  “Yes, he does.  Which
is why you need to take care of yourself.”

Maggie nodded.  She staggered back
to her own wagon.  She climbed in and fell asleep the moment she lay on the
narrow cot.

When Maggie finally woke up, the
sun was already above the trees.  She grimaced when she saw that she had slept
in her clothes.  She splashed water on her face and climbed into Sam’s wagon. 
Flynn’s face was pale, and beads of sweat dotted his upper lip.  Maggie took a
clean cloth from the trunk at the foot of the bed and wiped the sweat from his
face.

Flynn’s eyes opened, and he grasped
her wrist tightly.  “My leg?”

Maggie smiled at him.  “Still
there.”

Flynn sighed and shut his eyes.

But Maggie was worried.  His hand
felt hot to the touch.  She bit her lip.

“Your breakfast is getting cold,
Maggie.”

Maggie left the wagon reluctantly
and went to Frank’s cook fire.

Frank looked up as they
approached.  “How is he, Maggie?”

Maggie smiled.  “He’ll live, thanks
to you.”  She kissed Frank’s grizzled cheek.

Frank blushed as red as the checked
tablecloth he always laid across Sam’s table.  “I didn’t do nothin’.”

“Except risk your life.”  Sam
slapped him on the back.

Frank’s blush deepened.  “Flynn
would have done the same for me.”

Sam nodded solemnly.  “Yes, he
would have.”

Frank ladled up a plate of eggs. 
Maggie’s stomach growled.  Sam laughed.

*  *  *

For three days, Flynn lay feverish
and delirious.  Then, one morning, Maggie climbed into the wagon.

The stench was overpowering.

With shaking hands, she lifted the
blanket that covered Flynn.  The flesh between the bandages and Flynn’s foot
was black.  “Papa!”

Sam climbed into the wagon and
sniffed.  He turned back to the opened.  “Ben!  Get Doc Robbins!”

“Jennie!”

Maggie shut her eyes.  Her chest
felt as if a mule had kicked her.  She drew a deep breath, opened her eyes and
went over to Flynn.  “I’m here, Flynn.”  She took his hand.  “I’m right here.”