My Heart Stood Still (Sisters Of Mercy Flats 2) by Lori Copeland Read Free Book Online

part, people thought her a fright and left her alone.
    Quincy pulled Creed out of the wagon, giving Eulalie a wide berth when he carried the unconscious man up the rickety steps.
    Upon entering the cabin, Anne-Marie was reminded that Eulalie wasn’t the tidiest of housekeepers. She would gather up anything and everything that she found or traded for, so the furnishings inside the cabin were as much a hodgepodge as the structure itself.
    “Who is he?” Eulalie asked, inclining her head toward Creed.
    “An acquaintance. I accidently shot him.”
    “Shot him?”
    “Eulalie, he’s lost a lot of blood. Can you save him?”
    “Only the Lord can save him.” The old woman looked deeply into Anne-Marie’s eyes. Anne-Marie hated admitting it, but she wouldn’t lie to Old Eulalie.
    “All right, we were trying to outrun the law,” she murmured.
    Eulalie cackled. “Outrun the law, you say? Well, put him on the kitchen table and I’ll take a look at him.”
    Anne-Marie trailed Quincy as he carried Creed to the sturdy wood table.
    “Shoo! Get out of here! Shoo!” Eulalie waved her hands at the dozen or so cats that had converged to greet them. “Anne-Marie, light another lamp so I can have a look at that wound.”
    The cabin reeked of cooking odors and pungent animal droppings. Quincy deposited Creed on the block and then stood to the side. Anne-Marie tried not to stare at the wounded leg, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.
    The leg was swollen, as if all the blood from Creed’s body had pooled in one place. Eulalie’s gnarled fingers probed the torn flesh and Creed moaned.
    “It’s bad… real bad.”
    “Can you help?” The man couldn’t die. For some odd reason, Anne-Marie felt he was the only security she had at the moment.
    “Can’t promise anything, but I’ll do what I can.”
    The smells combined with the sight of the woman poking fingers into the wound appeared to be too much for Quincy. Eulalie and Anne-Marie turned when they heard a soft thud. Quincy had passed out cold on the dirt floor.
    “Well, I’ll make him some good strong tea when he comes to,” Eulalie said. Drawing Anne-Marie aside, she murmured, “Get me some hot water and some rags from the kitchen shelf.”
    The warmth from the fire seeped into her weary bones, but at that moment Anne-Marie was too concerned about Creed to enjoy it. Ascratching in the corner of the room momentarily drew her attention to a small raccoon who had taken up residence; he peered back at her with alarmingly resourceful eyes. A mother cat and four kittens rested on a rug in a corner near the fireplace. As usual, Eulalie had a collection of critters that believed the cabin to be their own.
    Pouring a pan full of hot water, Anne-Marie carried it and the clean rags to the table, stepping over Quincy in the process. He would come around, or she and Eulalie would drag him to the couch later.
    Using Creed’s knife, Eulalie slit the Indian’s breeches from ankle to thigh and peeled the buckskin aside.
    “That buckshot’s got to come out.” Eulalie motioned for Anne-Marie to move the light closer. “Hold the lantern higher.”
    Creed stirred “What’s happening?”
    Anne-Marie bent closer. “Don’t be alarmed; we’re at a friend’s cabin.”
    “Where’s Quincy?”
    She pointed to the crumpled heap lying at the foot of the table. “He fainted.”
    “Never could stand the sight of blood,” he murmured. His eyes closed, and then briefly opened to focus on Eulalie hovering above him. “What’s going—who?”
    Grasping his hand, Anne-Marie held it tightly. “You’re going to be fine. Eulalie is going to help you.”
    His eyes clouded with doubt. “My leg… ” Long, dark lashes drifted shut.
    “He’s out.” Eulalie noted. “Good. Shoo. Get away from here,” she scolded, nudging two of the felines out of the way with toe of her boot. Turning back to the wound, she talked as she worked. “Where are Amelia and Abigail?”
    Sighing, Anne-Marie