Chapter 2

“Sorry!” Woody’s voice sounded impossibly small compared to the rising gales outside, and she might not have heard it at all if she wasn’t in the habit of listening to every single sound her son made, from the catch of his breath to the words he muttered in his sleep.

“It’s fine. No harm done,” Amy said, straightening. “Do you need me to help?”

“No. Kenneth’s got it.”

“Kenneth?”

Amy spun around and stopped short. A tall man held the door shut against the wind, his hair obscured by a battered hat and his face half-hidden by a dusty bandana. He wasn’t alone, either. A shorter man stood beside him—no, not standing. He was leaning heavily against the wall, the familiar stance of a man in dire pain. The sound of the latch locking boomed in the small cabin, louder than anything Amy had ever heard before. Woody stood by the two men, beaming at her, like he expected a reward for finding the drifters and bringing them directly into their home.

“Ma, this is Kenneth. And Leon.”

The man who shut the door turned toward her and nodded. “Ma’am. I don’t mean to intrude but…”

“Woodrow Michael Northe, I thought I told you to go take care of the animals in the barn!” Amy darted forward and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the strangers. She dragged him back until the table stood between them and the two men, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off them for a second. “What on earth were you doing?”

Woody squirmed within her grasp, but it only drove her to tighten her hold. “I did, Ma. I did exactly what you told me. That’s where I found ‘em.”

In her barn. Two men she didn’t recognize. Her stomach clenched.

“Ma’am, we just need a little help,” the man said in a rush. He held up his hands, palms out. “Leon is really hurt, and if he doesn’t get some help…we’re not going to hurt you. We don’t want to hurt anybody.”

“What were you doing in my barn, then?”

“Resting. The storm is getting worse and Leon needed to rest. We planned to just stop for a few minutes and move on, but Leon can’t even ride in this wind.”

The man spoke quickly, his hands still in the air. The other one, Leon, didn’t move from his place on the wall. She moved her gaze over him quickly, looking for any signs of the supposed injury. He favored his right foot, and the bottom of his jeans was stiff with blood.

“Get him in the chair.” Amy issued the command before she could change her mind. She couldn’t send an injured man out into this storm, even if she didn’t know who he was. She’d never forgive herself. “Get his boot off. I’ll take a look at it.”

She let Woody go, but steered him away from the men, guiding him to sit next to the fire. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the one named Kenneth lead his friend to the chair and darted to the back larder to fetch a bowl of water and a washrag.

“Goddammit, Ken.” She heard the growl as though Leon was right next to her ear.

“I’m sorry. Just hold still.”

“Tell that kid to stop staring at me.”

“Ignore him. And hold still.”

The next thing she heard was a muffled cry, like Leon was biting on his hand to stop the sound. She hurried back into the small room to find Leon sitting on the kitchen chair, his leg stretched in front of him. His ankle was swollen to an impressive size, the skin stretch tight around the broken bone, a shade of purple that was almost black. Woody stared, entranced by the injury the way only a small child could be. Kenneth and Leon wore matching grimaces, but Leon’s eyes were dark with pain.

“What happened?” She crouched at Leon’s feet, frowning as she got a closer look. “Woody, bring my kit. And my scissors.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Amy listened to him scurry off, squelching her trepidation at how eager he sounded. “I’m going to need to cut your pants in order to clean and set it properly. How long have you been riding with it broken like this?”

“He…uh…fell off his horse.”

“I didn’t…”

“A snake spooked his horse,” Kenneth quickly added. “That was about…seven days ago.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck.”

Woody appeared at her side. Amy took the scissors as he set the box of her medical supplies on the floor. Gripping the frozen edge of Leon’s pants, she pulled them taut, blocking out his grunt of pain as it jarred his ankle.