Finn by Chloe Emile

Author:Chloe Emile [Emile, Chloe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chloe Emile Romance

Chapter Eight

Finn saw the horse first. It was leisurely munching on grass alongside the trail, its reins hanging loose across the saddle—Patch’s saddle.

Maggie pulled up her reins when she saw the horse. “Where’s Patch?” Her voice cracked slightly as she slid from her mule. “Where is he, Finn?”

“Take cover over by that rock, Maggie. And for God’s sake, keep your mouth quiet!” He watched as Maggie ran for the rock and hid behind it. He slowly went up to the horse and grabbed its reins. He took his Colt out of its holster and walked steadily forward. His eyes scanned the horizon, and then he looked around the area near him.

Patch was lying across the narrow trail, his lariat trailing from one hand and stretching past his head disappearing in the tall grass.

Finn knelt next to him. “Patch! Patch!” He saw an arrow stuck in his friend’s chest and immediately noticed that the arrow went through Patch’s shoulder and was stuck deep into the ground, pinning Patch to the dirt. Finn put his hand on Patch’s chest. “You’re okay, Patch. I’m gonna fix you up as good as new.”

Patch’s eyes watered, and he whispered, “Six of ‘em, jus’ like I said, Finn. They killed all the others. All ten.” He wet his lips with his tongue. “Scalped them all. Somethin’ spooked them, or they would have scalped me too.” Any other time, Finn would have reminded Patch that he didn’t have any hair, but the humor was lost when he stared down at the pool of black surrounding Patch.

“Quiet now, Patch. I gotta get you fixed up. I’m going to get Maggie, and then we can move you to a safer spot.”

Patch tried to laugh. “I’m not going anywhere, Finn.”

Finn hurried back to the spot where he had told Maggie to hide. “Come on Maggie. Patch’s been hit. He has an arrow clear through his shoulder. We gotta get him to safety and fix him up.” He glanced at her shortened skirt. “Did you save that material you cut off?”

She nodded. “In my saddlebag.”

“Good. We’ll use it for bandages. Come on. He’s lost a lot of blood, but I think he is going to be okay.”

She hesitated.

“This is no time to become a docile little lady, Margaret Mae Ditmar!”

As if he had poked her with a red-hot iron, she ran quickly to her saddlebag and retrieved the material. She glanced up at him. “And we’ll need your whiskey, Finn, like you used on my hand.”

“That’s why I brought it. Never know when someone might need a swig.”

She glanced at her hand. It had festered slightly, but otherwise, she was fine. She knelt next to Patch, visibly controlling herself when she saw the arrow sticking out of his shoulder and pinning him to the ground. She put her hand on his forehead. “You are going to be all right now, Patch. We’re here with you.”

His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled. “Why, lookie here. My own angel of death, and such a pretty little angel at that.

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