Behind The Alpha Series Book 3 NALA
Chapter 7

(Chapter song ‘Wounded Wings' by Daniel Tompkins)

PENELOPE

It’s been a hard night for the stranger in the barn.

I only stumbled upon him this morning when I came to water the horses. The bloody hand that marked the barn door had me search. I was stunned to see him laying in the hay. The first thing I noticed was the growing black red stain growing on his shirt.

I dropped my bucket, lifted my dress and ran to him. I fell to his side.

His clothes were not a proper fit at all and he was dirty. I move his hair from his face. I recognize this man.

My mind goes to the charming smile I saw laying at my feet on the dirt road outside the saloon. He didn’t look quite the same, but it was him.

As I look him over, my hands want to touch him, but my etiquette says I should not. I lay my cheek at his mouth. His soft breath tickles my hairs. He’s alive.

I turn to the wet shirt. With slight hesitation, I slowly lift it up from the hem. I gasp at the sight. The bullet hole wasn’t large, but it was black and there seems to be a silver liquid coming from it. I dip a finger and feel it with my thumb. My mouth falls. “Mercury?” My eyes turn to his closed ones.

Miss Atwood has taken to teaching me as well. My father doesn’t believe a woman should have a proper education. I have been learning in secret. One of those is science. Specifically, the periodic tables and its properties.

As I assess the wound, I can’t help but wander my eyes across his strong back. It’s strange. I feel the same curiosity I did for Edward. Drawn to what’s inside. Behind those eyes that sleep so soundly.

I regain my senses. Before I can think those thoughts, I must remove this bullet. Due to my many missionaries, I’ve had to treat many wounds in the poorer towns so, I have some knowledge.

I lean to his ear. “Don’t worry. I can help you.” I kind of smile as I move his hair. He smells of spice and saddle oil. The whiskey is there, of course, but it only adds to the hints of smell that comes from him. I like it.

I stand and run out of the barn to the church. Once inside, I enter the living quarters. I open the floor cupboard and pull out our horse care kit. I grab towels and put a kettle on the cook stove. While that boils, I open the box. Inside are various instruments for injuries and sickness. One in particular is a medicine that will help. I pull out the herbs. We don’t need much. It’s from plants from around a special pool of water my father traded for. They cure anything. They should help the stranger in the barn.

As I crumble the herb into the heating water, I think of his soft, brown hair. His handsome face and deep voice. I see him on his back in the road. At first, I was shocked and offended, but now, I giggle to myself at how silly he looked.

Once the tea is steeped, I take a towel and place it over a medium bowl. I carefully pour the mixture over the towel. I watch the water fall through the towel and the herbs settle on top. Once it’s poured, I wrap the towel up and squeeze. This treatment will be two fold.

I grab a bottle and spoon. I spoon the liquid into the bottle and cork it. I grab the towel and put them both into the box. I run back out to the barn.

Please don’t be dead. The tea took longer than I wanted to be away.

I climb through the hay to him. He hasn’t moved. I unbutton my cuffs and roll up my sleeves.

“It’s a good thing you’re asleep. This will hurt." I lift his shirt again and place a towel under his side. In the kit, I pull out some long forceps used for burrowing maggots and in this case, bullet wounds.

I light a candle and run them through the flame. Cleaning the black and silver ooze coming from the hole in his caramel skin, I insert the ends. It’s deep. I feel it. After manipulating them around, I catch it in the two teeth. I watch him closely for signs of waking. I pay close attention to the rise and fall of his back.

I wet a towel and wash the blood away so I can see. I slowly pull out the round piece of jagged metal. There was a hole in it where a little bit of mercury leaked out. What kind of strange bullet is this?

I drop it on the towel at my knees and I grab the tea. I push him up. “Please don’t wake now.” I slightly wince because I know how this magic feels.

I pour the tea and it enters the hole. His skin sizzles then smokes. The hole starts to shine in the candle light and smoke. His skin becomes almost hot to the touch. I wipe blood as the tea works on the mercury poisoning. We’ve used this several times because a lot of poorer people live in places where their water is tainted. Mercury poisoning is common in both humans and horses. I watch the black retreat. Once it does, I immediately stuff the hole with the wet tea leaves. The hole glows more and start to heal.

I smile. “Good.” I watch the spent tea leaves ooze out as their power closes to the hole I place my hands on either side. “Heal. Remove the unclean from your blood.” I glance his way to his peaceful looking face. His brow moves a bit. I’m sure the pain is uncomfortable in his unconscious mind.

Once the herb is extracted, I again wet a towel and wipe his skin. While I do, it doesn’t escape me how solid his back is. Whatever he does, you can see he works hard. I’m curious to know who he is. Besides one to engage in saloon nonsense.

When he’s clean, I reach for his shirt and see a saddle bag under his chest. I lift him and pull it out. My eyes flick from the bag to him. I notice two bullet holes in the leather.

It's not respectable for a woman to pry into the business of a man, whether husband or stranger, but he is in my barn and I have saved his life. I should be afforded to know who it is exactly I saved.

I bite my lip, knowing I could be in a great deal of upset if he wakes up. I unbuckle the belts and lift the flap. My eyes widen when what’s in the bag registers on my mind. I reach in and pull a handful of banknotes. There’s more. A lot more.

My heart beats fast as I assess what I’ve just come upon. His clothes are not suited. His face is hard, unshaven. His hair unkempt and dirty. He’s also been shot.

I can only conclude one thing. “Outlaw.”

I look to the money and to the man in my hay. I should have good authority to call the sheriff, but I’m taken by his glistening smile. It may look horrid on the surface, but underneath, there’s something there. Just like I saw in Edward.

I lean to his ear. “I apologize. You will thank me later.” I pat his back gently, making sure he’s comfortable and stand with the satchel.

Taking one last look, I leave the barn.

I walk through the woods into town. I know he’ll be cross, but something tells me that’s all he’ll be. If he was any other outlaw, I might not be making the same choice for fear of being killed. With this man, I don’t hold the same fear. No. I hold a different kind. A fear that if I don’t correct this wrong, I will be doing him an injustice to my teachings. I’m doing this for him. I just hope he understands.

With saddle bag in hand, I walk to the bank.

I try the door, but it’s locked. I hold the bag in front of my thighs and look around. Maybe the rear side of the building.

I hear the men talking around the side. I peak my head around and see the sheriff and Mr. Guthrie discussing something. I can only assume my outlaw took these notes during the saloon fight.

I gather myself and step out. “Excuse me.” I say in a meek manner with my head lowered.

Mr. Guthrie steps to me, his face lit. “Miss Williams. I do so apologize. The bank is closed due to some unfortunate…events. Please come back later.”

I nod my head. “My business is not with the bank, Mr. Guthrie. Well, it is. Just not what you believe it to be.”

He crosses his arms. “Alright.”

I lift the saddle bag. “I found this in the woods. I believe it must be yours.”

He looks at it. “I’m sorry, Miss…that’s not…”

“Gimme that.” The sheriff snatches the satchel from my hand. My brow furrows at his rudeness, but I close my mouth. He opens it up and shows Mr. Guthrie.

“My word.” Mr. Guthrie pulls out some notes.

The sheriff eyes me. “Where did you get this?”

“The woods. Between the town and the church.” I repeat.

“Was there a man? A wounded man?” He steps closer than I’m comfortable.

“I’m sorry, sir. There was not.” I know I’m lying, I’ll pay penance for it later, but I don’t feel comfortable with this man. He stirs something inside me. Something whispers on my soul not to trust him.

“Are you sure?! This man is very dangerous! If you’re hiding him…” He gets very close to pushing his demeanor on me and I have to step back. He seems overtly excited about my stranger in the barn. Too excited than any ordinary sheriff.

“I assure you, kind sheriff. I am positive there was no one else around. Now, I have returned the satchel to Mr. Guthrie and I will bid you good day.” I tilt my head and nod. I turn to go and he grabs my arm.

“Sheriff Jackson! Unhand me!” I give him a stern look.

He raises his chin. “You have blood on your skirt.”

I look down and see a spot of the strangers blood on my brown wrap. “Yes…one of our horses got injured jumping the brambles. I had to stitch.”

“Horse blood.” He eyes me carefully.

“Horse blood.” I narrow my eyes.

After a moment, he lets me go. “I apologize, Miss.” He says low as he tips his hat.

“Good day. Mr. Guthrie.” I lean around the sheriff and nod.

“Miss Williams. Thank you for your good deed.” He nods.

“No need. Just doing my duty as a representative of the church.” I pull my shawl up and glance at the Sheriff.

I take my leave and walk back to the barn. The encounter with the sheriff has me rattled. He has business with my stranger, but it feels as though it’s not the business of the Sheriffs house.

I’ll have to be careful for my strangers sake.

I also have to keep an eye out for my father. If he knew of the man in the barn and what I did, he’d deliver his anger again.

I gently push the barn door open and slip inside, shutting it behind me.

I turn and am met with angry eyes that make me yelp.

He grabs me, pushes me to a barn pole. He presses his heavy body on mine, pinning my wrists above me and covering my mouth. I whimper in fear as my surprise and terror fills me.

In the dim light, I can see his eyes look me over as my own pleading eyes watch. I try to struggle, but the weight of him is impossible to move.

He looks into my eyes. His lip slightly snarls. “Where’s my bag?”

“B..bag?” I mumble behind his palm.

He leans closer and his eyes narrow. “Yes…my saddle bag…Where…is it?” He grits.

I look around as my feet try to stay on the floor. I muffle words. Stammering to explain.

He pulls his head back, sighs and removes his hand. I take deep breathes to calm my heart.

He looks hard at me again. “You were sayin’?”

I glance around the barn. “I…I…um…”

“Quit, stammerin', woman, and spit it out!” He yells which makes me yelp too.

“I…I gave it to the sheriff.” I say as weak and scared as I could to maybe play on his sympathies even though I am terrified in this moment.

He curls his lip and leans his face forward. “You what?” His words spit in my face.

“I gave it back. To save you.” I swallow. My brows stitch up and I suddenly feel like a small girl in trouble.

He tilts his head one way then the other. “You have any idea what I had to do to git that money?” He growls darkly. His eye never leaving mine.

“Some yes.” I look and nod to the spot in the hay.

He looks where I was looking and turns back to me. “You removed the shot from my back.”

I nod as my bottom lip trembles.

I looks back again and turns to me. “You cost me a lot of dough.” He grinds.

“I’m sorry.” I squeak.

He juts his chin out and nods. His eyes float around my face as of to study. He moves real close and licks his lips.

I pull my head back as much as I can. “What are you doing?” I say in a quiet, but shocked voice. I feel a heat building in me and between our bodies.

“Fixin' to kiss ya.” He ticks his head. “For savin' me.”

“That is not proper, sir or should I say, outlaw.” I narrow my brows to him.

“You don’t want a kiss?” His eyes move to my lips.

“No.” I swallow.

His eyes lock with mine. “I’m gettin’ my kiss.” He grits. “Unless I hear an honest objection.”

I’m lost as his blue eyes consume mine. Like waters in a secluded pool, they almost make me feel free. “Honest.”

His fingers touch my bottom lip and his lips come even closer. My heart skips its beat.

“I’ll only stop with a sincere objection.” His eyes close slightly.

His soft lips now touch mine and it makes my breath stutter.

He licks his lips once more. “Do you?”

My eyes droop and I feel the shock of his fingertips on my chin and cheek. I cannot resist. “No.”

He slams his lips into mine and his tongue commands an entrance I’ve never felt before. Even with Henry. My lust filled thoughts fly around my mind. His powerful hand pulls my head to his as he deepens and explores my mouth with vigor. His strength is all consuming. His want and desire is clear. Mine is too.

I want to touch him, but he has my wrists.

He slows and pulls my bottom lip. I’m floating in fog. My heart can’t keep up. My breath is gone along with my words.

“That’s only part payback.” His lips still dance with mine.

I feel a twinge of nervousness about whether I want him to take the rest of his payment from me. My chivalries are being tested. I’m not sure I want to listen. This forward man is not what I’m accustomed to dealing with or take pleasure from. He definitely makes my privacy burn.

He stares into my eyes and gives me another kiss. “That horse over there will do…for now.”

“What?” I whisper as my eyes seem to get heavier. It feels like I’m falling asleep.

“Thanks for savin’ my bacon. You’ll just go for a little nap. I’m gonna skedaddle on out of here. I don’t need you followin’. I’ll see ya around, Sweet Pea.” He lets me go and I fall to my bottom on the barn floor.

He squats down as I lay my head on the floor. He moves my hair out from my sleepy eye. “That kiss was entirely my pleasure. You best remember that.” He says quietly with a smirk as my eyes fall into dark.