Tornado survivors screamed and ran as chaos reigned. Logan shrugged out of his jacket and took charge. "We have to stop it before it gets out of hand and kills us all. Caroline, check the woman. Holt, come with me. You, there!" he called toward two men who stood around in shocked inactivity. "Help put out these fires!"
Caroline rushed toward the wounded woman's voice and found her bleeding profusely from a cut in her upper thigh. She stripped off her petticoat and tore it into stripswhich she used for bandages, first on the woman, then on a child she pulled from the railroad car and finally on the puncture wound in Logan's arm.
Under his direction, the men succeeded in containing the fire. He then directed efforts to assist the wounded and free those trapped inside the railcars and beneath large pieces of debris. As soon as his conscience would allow, he left in search of the missing.
With the fires put out, an uninjured passenger took a quick count which showed they had seven dead, fourteen injured and four unaccounted for. Eight passengers and one crewman had made it through the storm relatively unscathed. Caroline was thrilled to discover that one of the injured was a physician. He had a lump the size of a small fist on his head, but once his thoughts cleared, he set about sewing up cuts and splinting broken bones.
A half hour after the tornado struck, Holt returned to the site of the wreckage with the discomforting news that he'd located two of the missing, both dead. Of Cade, he'd seen no sign.
He turned right around to continue the search in another direction when a shout alerted them to a rider approaching from the east, a second riderless horse trailing behind him. "It's Logan," Holt said. "I can tell by the way he sits a horse."
"Where did he find a horse? Two horses?"
"There's no telling. He's lucky that way."
As Logan drew closer, Caroline realized that he wasn't alone. "Look, Holt. He has someone with him."
This time it was Holt who took off running, but when he halted abruptly, Caroline's heart sank to her toes. The figure riding in front of Logan was slumped over double. Like deadweight. Caroline recognized the green plaid shirt. Cade.
"Doctor? Doctor Barnes? We need you!" she called as Logan rode up. She wouldn't believe that Cade was dead. She wouldn't! She hurried to make a place for him, spreading out a blanket, then urging the doctor to hurry along as Logan rode up to them.
He handed Cade down to a waiting Holt. "He's alive. He's still alive."
"My God, what happened to him?" Holt asked.
Caroline's breath caught. He was covered in blood from head to boot. In a day of horrific sights, this was one of the worst she'd seen.
"Goddamned barbed wire." Logan slid from the saddle and helped Holt carry their friend to the blanket. "He was wrapped in it completely."
"How did you get it off?" Caroline asked even as her gaze went to his bloodied hands.
"It was bad. I didn't have any clippers of any kind. My knife wasn't any help. I started to leave him and ride back for a tool, but then I heard a pack of coyotes." He briefly closed his eyes. "I had to unroll him."
"Jesus," Holt murmured.
Logan cleared his throat. "Think his legs might be broken. One of 'em for sure."
"Let me have a look," the doctor said.
Cade's skin was torn in too many places to count, everything from slight scratches to deep, ugly gouges. The doctor cut away his trousers and revealed that not even the heavy denim had protected him. Standing by with wash water, Caroline felt the tears rolling down her face.
"Let me do this," Logan said, taking the bowl from her hands.
"I've been nursing other men...."
"I know. But I know my brother, too. He wouldn't want you to see him this way."
His brother. These men were brothers, weren't they? They were family. And Logan's and Holt's hearts were sick with worry. She gave his shoulder a squeeze, then turned away. There were plenty of people who needed help.
Caroline lost track of time as she tended to those unable to tend to themselves. She spent a few extra minutes with the train's engineer, who said he'd experienced a religious conversion and asked her to pray with him. He thanked the Lord for numerous blessings, including the fact that the train had carried fewer passengers than normal. As he spoke, Caroline realized that today's disaster could have been much worse.
Maybe Logan's Guardian Angel existed after all.
"Hey, lady?" a man called. "I can use some help here."
Caroline turned to assist him and while she kept a smile pasted on her face, her heart sank. He sat propped against the back of a seat that had been ripped from one of the passenger cars, and she recognized him as one of the rough-looking men whose entry to their railcar caused Logan to change his seat. Despite his grimace of pain, something about the look in his eyes made her uneasy.
"What is it?"
"I have this pain." He winced and rubbed his thigh, then shifted his hips as if trying to get comfortable. "Think you could take a look at it for me?"
"Are you wounded? Bleeding?"
"I'm aching something fierce."
She tangibly felt the avid gazes of his three companions and in that moment, she knew to beware. "Let me get Doctor Barnes."
He reached out and grabbed her skirt. "I want you, pretty gal." He tugged hard, pulling her to her knees, then he grabbed her hand and shoved it onto his crotch. "Rub my ache."
The gunshot bit the dust at the man's feet. "Let her go now or the next one goes in your head," Logan said.
The villain's grip loosened enough to allow her to snatch her hand away. Logan leveled a deadly glare on the man as he helped her to her feet. "You all right, honey?"
"I'm fine." She smiled down at the vermin while tugging a knife from her pocket. "Consider yourself lucky that my husband showed up. I grew up on a cattle ranch. I learned castration at an early age." It startled a laugh out of Logan, which Caroline considered a victory.
"C'mon." He pulled her away, saying, "You are some woman, Caroline Grey. A little scary at times, but damned fine."
"You wanted to know more about me, know this. I don't let anyone push me around."
Once they'd moved beyond earshot of the men, the smile slipped from his face. "I need to talk to you about something."
That sounded ominous. "Cade?"
"He woke up, so that's a relief. He said just enough so that we could tell his brains aren't scrambled. Doc thinks only one leg is broken, but all those cuts..." He shook his head. "Infection is a serious concern."
"Did you let Doctor Barnes look at your arm?"
"It's nothing. Piece of wheat stuck into me, that's all. Look, Caroline, we need help. When we don't show up at the next station they will send someone out to search for us, but the telegraph lines are down and the storm ripped up track both ahead of the train and behind it. No telling how long it will take for help to arrive, or how close they'll get to us."
Caroline realized where he was going with this. "Some of our injured can't afford a long delay."
"I won't have Cade survive the storm only to die from infection." He rubbed the back of his neck, and asked, "How well do you ride, Caroline?"
She blinked hard. "You want me to ride for help?"
"I'm going for help, and if you can keep up, I want you to come with me. I can't kill these peckerwoods who insulted you—much as I'd like to. Holt needs to concentrate on Cade, and I don't want to leave you here without protection."
"I can keep up, but I don't know about leaving. Doctor Barnes might need my help."
"There are others here who can fill in for you. Caroline, there is another aspect to this. This storm has delayed my arrival at Black Shadow Canyon by at least a day."
Her gaze swept over the scene and she got a sinking sensation in her stomach. "I did think of that."
"My first priority has to be sending help to these people here, but I'll keep going just as soon as that's done."
Caroline's head fell forward and she stared at the ground. "Holt will stay with Cade. Of course. I didn't think it through." Her gaze locked on a single wild dandelion, one spot of beauty amidst so much ugliness. "You plan to go into Black Shadow Canyon alone."
"Yes, but I'm not worried about that. It may well be safer that way."
The reminder of the reason why Logan, Holt and poor Cade had been on this train, part of this disaster, brought the guilt roaring back. The urge to confess all hovered on her tongue.
"I spoke with the engineer and pinpointed our location," Logan continued. "The closest town is about a four-hour ride south of here. Next one on the rail line is twice as far away. We'll get word to those who need it fastest if we head south, so that's where I'm headed. What do you think, Caroline? Are you able to ride and ride hard?"
The question he asked wasn't the one that mattered. The question was, what was she willing to do? Was she willing to tell Logan the truth when he would undoubtedly abandon her cause?
She stared around at the death and destruction spread out on the plain. She spied Holt Driscoll's weary, worried face as he sat next to the still figure of his friend. So much trauma. So much despair.
What a mistake she'd made thinking that her family's suffering mattered more than that of anyone else.
Shame all but brought Caroline to her knees. She didn't need to think about it any longer. She had to tell him the truth. She
would
tell him the truth.
But not here, not now. He had enough to deal with now.
Caroline eyed the pain etched across Logan's brow, the weary stoop to his shoulders, the worry dimming his eyes. Yes, not now. Later, once they'd gotten help for Cade and the other injured people, she'd confess.
And then she'd watch him walk away. Caroline swallowed hard and asked, "When do we leave?"
According to its residents, Parkerville was a town that refused to die. Ignored by the railroads, it should have gone the way of other small towns by becoming little more than a ghost town. However, a small core of determined families had kept it alive and thriving, and Parkerville remained the center of activity for area farmers and ranchers.
With a population just under six hundred, the town boasted three churches, one school, a post office, a hotel and two saloons. While everyone knew that the two-storied house on the south end of Main Street was a brothel, no one talked about it.
Most important, Parkerville had a telegraph.
The sun had set by the time Logan and Caroline rode into town, and as he'd expected, he found the telegraph office closed up tight. "Let's try over there," he suggested, gesturing toward a well-lit building sporting a sign that read Parkerville Dining and Drinking Emporium.
He peered through the window to ensure it was a suitable establishment for his wife to enter, then led her inside. He wasted no time before announcing, "A twister hit the rail line north of here. Where can I find the telegraph operator?"
That's all it took to mobilize help. Within minutes, the telegraphs had been sent and a relief effort was being organized on the church steps. Half an hour after Logan and Caroline rode into town, the first of the supply wagons headed out.
Caroline breathed a sigh of relief. "What wonderful people. I knew we'd find help here, but I never expected half the town to drop what they were doing and ride to the rescue."
"Salt-of-the-earth folks," Logan agreed, placing a hand at her back to lead her into the Emporium, where he'd been told they'd find a meal. "The minister's wife told me that five years ago a tornado killed three people and destroyed the church and two buildings in town, so they know what it's like."
The aroma of bread fresh from the oven greeted them as they entered the restaurant, and a friendly young man waved them over to a table. "Mr. and Mrs. Grey? I'm Harry Tompkins. This is my folks' place. Ma said for y'all to have a seat, and she'll get you supper right out. Special tonight was chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes and fried okra. Does that sound all right to you?"
"That sounds wonderful," Caroline said with a warm smile for the boy.
"Thank you, Harry. Chicken fried steak is my favorite." Logan waited until the boy had disappeared into the kitchen to add, "I wouldn't care if they were serving shoe leather as long as I could choke it down. I'm starving."
"Me, too."
But Caroline's actions didn't fit her words. When their supper came, she only picked at her food. Well, it had been one helluva day.
He wondered if she might be worried about sleeping arrangements. When he'd inquired into hotel rooms, he'd learned that the county fair had the town bursting at its seams. Logan had managed to talk his way into a room upstairs—one room with one bed. Caroline's eyes had rounded when he informed her of the fact, but she hadn't voiced a protest. Honestly, he couldn't tell what thoughts ran through her head right now. Maybe she was just too tired to think. God knows he was exhausted. He couldn't wait to go to bed. With her.
Be damned if he'd sleep on the floor. She was his wife, after all. That at least got him half a mattress, the way he viewed it.
Not that he expected sex from Caroline. While he wouldn't turn it down, he didn't anticipate that she'd offer. Today had been a bitch of a day that had worn them both to a frazzle. Although, maybe after a good night's sleep...
"Eat your meat, Caroline," he instructed. "You need the nourishment. Besides, it's damned delicious."
She took an unenthusiastic bite. "Logan, if it weren't for the situation with Will, would you ride back to the train to be with Cade?"
"Tonight?" He frowned and took a sip of sweet tea. "Another four hours in the saddle? Can't say I'd look forward to it. I wouldn't be able to walk for a week. It's a good thing I don't have to try. I'm whipped."
"This is the first time you've stopped since the twister hit," Caroline observed. "Of course you are exhausted. You need to rest."
"I won't be sorry to see my pillow."
She pursed her lips and studied him. "You wouldn't do your friend any good if you dozed off to sleep in your saddle and fell off your horse."