Page 42 of Heart of Mystic Valley
It was then Faith realized she was entirely alone. The sense of isolation struck her odd, given the main street was close by.A tingling sense of danger washed over her, setting the hairs on her neck upright.
Before she could react, a rough hand clamped over her mouth, and a strong arm wrapped around her waist. She was yanked backward with such force her feet left the ground. She kicked and thrashed, trying to break free, but her assailant was too strong.
She was dragged into a dark alley. Faith managed to elbow her captor in the ribs, earning a grunt, but he only tightened the grip around her waist. In a swift, practiced motion, the assailant stuffed a handkerchief into her mouth, silencing her cries.
Panic set in as she took stock of her situation. The alley was narrow, the kind of place where sounds were swallowed whole. She recognized the back entrances to a few businesses, but no one was in sight. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat a ticking clock counting down her last moments.
Her captor hoisted her up with ease, throwing her over the lap of a waiting rider. She struggled to lift her head, to see who was beneath the wide brimmed hat, but the rider’s hand pushed her down, crushing her chest. The world tilted and swayed as the rider maneuvered the horse out of the alley and onto the street.
Faith’s thoughts were a jumble, though one image stuck in her head. Joshua, his gaze following her down the street.
Chapter Sixteen
The rider guided the horse down a back street. Faith caught glimpses of the town she’d grown up in, and the people inside the buildings. The millinery with colorful hats in the window, the barber shop where old-timers swapped tales, the livery stable tended by Josiah Jarvis. All of it seemed surreal, a dream she was waking from too soon.
Ahead of them were two other riders, both men, checking the alleys as they rode past. Someone needed to stop them. But the streets remained eerily empty, the storefronts devoid of life. It was as if the whole town had shut down after the explosion. Meanwhile, her world was falling apart.
They neared the edge of town, and Faith’s eyes widened with terror. Once they were in the open plains, her chances of escape dwindled to nothing. She tried to memorize the silhouettes of the men in front of them, the shape of their hats, and the lines of the horses, storing every detail in case she survived this. In case she could one day tell the story.
A shout rang out, cutting through the oppressive silence. The rider pulled on the reins, and Faith’s body whiplashed, her head snapping up to see who’d called out.
It was Joshua. He stood in the middle of the street, revolver drawn, his silhouette stark against the rising moon. On either side of him were Brodie and Nash, their six-shooters aimed at the riders.
“Let her go!” Joshua commanded.
The riders hesitated, and Faith felt the horse shift its weight, ready to bolt. She knew Joshua was an excellent shot, but could he hit a moving target without striking her?
Joshua took a step closer, his eyes locked on the rider. “This is your only warning.”
The rider slowly lifted Faith into the air, and she feared he planned to use her as a shield. Then she felt herself falling. She landed hard on the dirt, her left shoulder taking the brunt of the impact, pain exploding.
A gunshot fractured the air. Faith flinched, expecting to feel the hot kiss of a bullet, but it never came. She looked up to see the rider slumped sideways, clutching his upper arm. With what strength he had left, he kicked the horse’s flanks and held onto the saddlehorn. He galloped out of town along with his companions.
Joshua rushed toward her as Brodie and Nash ran past them, guns firing.
“Faith!” He knelt down, his hands hovering, unsure where to touch. “Where are you hurt?”
She tried to speak, but the handkerchief was still lodged in her mouth. Joshua gently pulled it out, and she gasped for air, each breath a knife in her ribs.
“I’m okay,” she lied. “My shoulder…”
He examined her with the care of a physician, noting the way she held her left arm. “Probably dislocated. We need to get you to Doc Wainwright.”
He helped her stand, hearing her painful intake of breath. “Joshua, who… who were they?”
“I don’t know.”
She grabbed his hand with her good one. “Could they be the bank robbers?”
“Maybe. Probably. I’ll let Brodie and his deputies sort it out.”
She let those words sink in, knowing he was right. But it rankled. She knew turning off her natural curiosity was next to impossible. It was a curse as much as a calling.
He shot her a look she’d seen many times during their friendship. Sliding his left arm around her waist, she leaned into him.
They started to walk, her steps hesitant. She glanced back once, toward the horizon where the riders had disappeared, and wondered if they’d return to complete what they’d started. Faith didn’t understand why they’d targeted her instead of riding out of town right after the explosion.
Faith’s jaw clenched tight against the searing pain radiating from her left shoulder. She blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears threatening to spill over. She refused to cry.
