The Mercenary's Kiss. Pam Crooks
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She slipped her arm behind his neck to help him sit up. “Take a double dose, Pop. It’ll help you feel better.”
He drank the stuff right out of the container.
Skeptical, Jeb took a bottle from the case and scanned the label proclaiming the amazing benefits of Doc Charlie’s Miraculous Herbal Compound.
“Medicine,” Creed said as he read one, too, and pursed his lips.
Quackery was more like it, but Jeb kept the thought to himself. He’d never put much faith in patent medicines or the men who sold them—scam artists who preyed on ailing citizens who’d give away their hard-earned money for the promise of good health and a clear mind.
He tossed the bottle aside. But if this man and his daughter believed in the herbal compound, damned if he would tell them otherwise.
A trickle of the coffee-colored liquid slipped from the corner of Pop’s mouth, and he ran his sleeve across his chin to wipe it away. He exhaled a slow breath and eased back down on the ground.
“Thank you, Elena,” he whispered.
She recapped the bottle. “I’ll get the horses. I’ll be right back. We’ve lost too much time already.”
Jeb had heard enough. His arm snaked out to grasp her wrist, keeping her right where she was. Her startled expression made Jeb wonder if she even comprehended he and Creed were there.
“You can’t take your father with you,” he said slowly, succinctly. She yanked against Jeb’s hold on her, but he held her fast. “You can’t go, either. You’re bleeding, and you—”
“Let go of me,” she snapped.
“You need a doctor, just like he does.”
“Let go of me!”
Again she strained against him, and Jeb marveled at her strength after everything she’d endured.
But he was still a hell of a lot stronger than she was. And he wasn’t letting her go anywhere just yet.
“Ma’am, he’s right,” Creed said. “You need some medical attention before you—”
“They have my son,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Yes,” Creed said. “And we’re real sorry about that. But the fact is, you’re hurt bad. Both of you are.”
Creed was the pragmatic one. Diplomatic and even-tempered most of the time. But impatience shot through Jeb. He cut right to the chase.
“You have any idea who you’re up against?” he demanded.
Her nostrils flared. “Yes! I do!”
“Those men are dangerous.”
“They took my son, damn you!”
“They kill for the sport of it.”
“I don’t care who they are or what they’ll do. I want him back.”
Jeb clenched his jaw. Of course, she did. What kind of mother would she be if she didn’t? He had to try a different tactic, convince her she couldn’t go off half-cocked on the revolutionaries’ trail.
“They’re long gone by now,” he said. “Headed for the border, most likely. You think you’re going to find them by yourself?”
Green eyes flashed. “If it’s the last thing I do.”
“You need some help,” Creed said. “Surely you know that.”
Creed spoke the words Jeb rebelled against saying. Or thinking. An image of San Antonio slid into his brain. The train waiting there. California and all his newfound plans.
“My father and I will go after Nicky,” she said defiantly.
A brilliant, flickering flame appeared over those plans….
“Like hell you will.” Jeb released her.
She rubbed her wrist. “I’m not leaving Pop behind.”
Her father peered up at her. Some of the color had fused back into his cheeks. From the elixir? Or from hope?
“Maybe these gentlemen will help us,” he said.
She turned to Jeb. If she thought he looked nothing like a helpful gentleman, she didn’t say it.
But her contemptuous look confirmed it.
“They could get us to San Antonio,” Pop went on. “We can contact the authorities when we get there.”
“No.” She returned the bottles of elixir to their crate in jerky movements. “It’ll take too long to arrange a search party. Tomorrow at the earliest. I won’t consider it.”
“Elena.”
“I’m not going to San Antonio. I’m going after Nicky. And I can’t leave you behind, so you’re going to have to come with me, do you hear?”
The shrill tone of her voice revealed the panic billowing inside her. Jeb steeled himself against it.
“Are you going to set your father’s leg before you go?” he asked softly.
Her glance darted to the twisted limb.
“He can’t ride a horse with a bullet wound. And that bullet needs to come out. All the blood he’s lost will make him too weak to even stay in the saddle.”
She swallowed.
“Guess you could have him lie down in the wagon. But then, you’d have to right it first.”
Her head swiveled toward the trees, to the wagon wedged on its side between them.
“The harnesses need mending before you could even think about hitching the team. By then, it’ll be dark. Pitch-dark. Going to be hard to find your way.”
Her lower lip quivered. Jeb steeled himself against that, too.
“I can’t leave my father,” she said. “He’s all I have, besides Nicky, and I need Pop to help me find my baby and—”
She halted, her bosom heaving. Jeb clenched his teeth.
He didn’t want to be affected by this woman.
He didn’t want to be needed by her.
He thought of Lieutenant Colonel Kingston. The General. He thought of honor and integrity. Of patriotism. He thought, too, of leaving the country he’d just come back to. One more time. And his plans for California disintegrated like smoke in the wind.
“I’ll help you, damn it.”
She gaped at him. For a long moment, no one spoke.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I can. I’ve been chasing men like them for years for the United States government. And right now, you have no one else.”
“I don’t even know you,” she said.
“You will by the time we get to Mexico.” He rose and headed for his horse. “Creed can take your father to San Antonio.”
“Why should I trust either of you? How do I know you won’t kill us or—or something along the way?”
“Elena, honey.” Pop took her hand, and she clung to his so hard her knuckles turned white. “If these gentlemen had a notion to hurt us, they would’ve done so by now.”
“Oh, Pop.” Her eyes welled with tears, and she burrowed her face against his neck. “I don’t want to go with him. I want to go with you.”
“Did you hear him, Elena? This is what he does. For the United States government.”
“I can’t leave you.”
“Nicky needs you more