Mail Order Bride Mishap (Into the West #3)

Chapter 25

Edward’s heart froze in his chest when he saw Fiona stumble backwards from the force of the shot. He was in a void, unable to move, to speak, to hear, released only when she tumbled to the floor, a bloom of red spreading across her chest. Only then did he return to the moment, heard his voice screaming, “No!”

The man in front of Edward, not the shooter, also stared at Fiona’s crumpled body. He seemed paralyzed, only able to swivel his neck around to gape into Edward’s face with matching disbelief. And Edward hauled off and punched the would-be robber smack in the middle of his face, right through the opening of the grille. The thief blinked, then slowly toppled backwards, but Edward was already on the move.

Dodging the other tellers still crouching below the counter, he vaulted over the waist high, swinging entry door, intent only on reaching his wife’s side. But a movement out of the corner of his eye had him veering to the left. It was the shooter, dropping his gun and making a run for the front door.

Like hell he was going to escape, was the next thought that went through Edward’s head, and he launched across the space separating him from the criminal. Once more his aim was true and he tackled that man, his momentum sending them both to the floor with jarring force. He heard the sickening crack of bone as they landed, the scream of pain from the man beneath him. Felt nothing himself.

“Stay where you are, asshole, if you want to live,” he snarled, then crawled toward Fiona’s inert body, immediately forgetting the man he’d just brought down. Reaching her side, he cupped her face with suddenly gentle hands, smoothed his thumbs over her alarmingly white cheeks, lowered his lips to just above hers.

“C’mon, baby, wake up. It’s all over now. You’re safe, sweetheart. Look at me, darling Fee. C’mon, love,” he begged, scooping her against him, tears from somewhere falling onto her closed lids, running alongside her nose, off her cheeks to disappear onto the floor beneath her. She was as still as a corpse.

Vaguely he became aware of his surroundings, heard shouting and scuffling feet, but none of it mattered to him as he sat holding Fiona against his chest, rocking her as his tears continued to spatter down upon her waxy face.

As if he was in a bubble he heard Mr. Davis yelling above him, “Take them to the livery. Lawson has that back room he can lock ‘em into. An’ telegraph the sheriff in Portland. For God’s sake, hurry up. Edward. Ed.”

Edward felt a gentle hand on his shoulder just then, but it took two more verbal attempts before he looked up into his boss’s concerned face. Could hardly keep up with the words that man was saying, so great was his grief.

“…Mrs. Brown has gone for the doc, Ed. Might be best if you take Mrs. Townsend in your office, lay her on your desk--”

“She won’t die, Mr. Davis. I know she won’t. I won’t let her. We just got married,” he heard himself babble, couldn’t control the words spilling from his lips as fast as the tears streaming from his eyes.

“Of course she won’t, Ed,” he heard Mr. Davis soothe. “It’s probably just a flesh wound. They always bleed like a son-of-a-gun. Here, let me give you a hand,” and Edward felt his boss’s hand at his elbow, helping him rise to his feet with Fiona in his arms.

Christ, she was so light, so thin. She felt like she would just melt right through his grasp, Edward thought, tightening his hold on her, clasping her against his chest. He staggered toward his office, hardly aware of the other employees standing about, watching in silence.

Mr. Davis preceded him, swept everything off the huge desktop Edward proudly kept neat and orderly. As he laid Fiona on top of it, Edward once more leaned over her, whispered brokenly, “You’re scarin’ me now, Fiona. For God’s sake, sweetheart, wake up. I can’t take your silence. I can’t take bein’ without you.”