Hart the Regulator 6 by John B. Harvey

Author:John B. Harvey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: wild west, old west, gunfighters, gunslingers, billy the kid, texas rangers, john harvey, hart the regulator, western pulp fiction, wes hart
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing

One of the larger pieces of glass had sliced across the side of Emily’s neck, scoring a deep cut from which blood ran easily. Small shards had etched thin red lines across her cheeks and nose and forehead and had caught in her short reddish hair.

The blood from her neck had already soaked the front of her dress, so that her breasts were steeped in it, the material red and bright. Cradled against her, Henry’s face was tattooed with the red impression of the dress’s surface. His hands and his little shirt were blotched with blood. His eyes were jammed tight shut and Emily had to shake him to open them; she shook him fiercely, terrified that something had happened to him, that the blood on him was not her own.

He was all right; he opened his eyes and began to cry and she looked at him and he was all right.

In the center of the aisle B.J.’s arm suddenly pushed up and Emily started, a cry half-formed, but the arm wasn’t moving of its own accord. B.J.’s face was still handsome, the cold blue eyes were open, staring at the roof of the car. One of Waite’s bullets had ploughed into his stomach and left through one of the cheeks of his backside. He was unconscious, but he wasn’t dead. He wouldn’t die for seven hours, the last three of which he would be awake and pleading for someone to put a slug through his brain. Nobody would.

Hart squeezed out from between the unconscious B.J. and the corner of one of the seats. There was plenty of blood on him, too, and some of it was his own. Several of the shotgun pellets had dug into his left shoulder, some passing through, others embedding themselves in the flesh. Something had struck him on the temple - maybe it had happened when B.J. had fallen on top of him - and it throbbed like hell and blood ran steadily down along his jawline and dripped onto his shirt.

He leaned his weight on B.J. and pushed himself to his feet.

He swayed a little from the blow to the head.

The noise in the carriage was appalling. Up by the door, someone was vomiting through his hands.

Hart saw Emily and the boy covered in blood and his breath gagged back in his throat.

‘Is he—?’

She shook her head before the question was asked. ‘He’s all right.’

When Emily spoke tiny bubbles of blood appeared along her lips and burst.

Immediately Hart knelt in front of her and lifted up the hem of her dress, taking the end of her white petticoat between his teeth and tearing it through, pulling the length of material away and starting, as gently as he was able, to bind the wound in Emily’s neck. As soon as he wound one strand round, it darkened and brightened with blood.

He couldn’t understand why she was still conscious.

She looked at him as he tended to her, staring at him with eyes that gave no thanks, that did nothing but accuse.

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