The rider guided the horse down a back street.
Faith caught glimpses of the town she’d grown up in, and the people inside the buildings.
The millinery with colorful hats in the window, the barber shop where old-timers swapped tales, the livery stable tended by Josiah Jarvis.
All of it seemed surreal, a dream she was waking from too soon.
Ahead of them were two other riders, both men, checking the alleys as they rode past. Someone needed to stop them. But the streets remained eerily empty, the storefronts devoid of life. It was as if the whole town had shut down after the explosion. Meanwhile, her world was falling apart.
They neared the edge of town, and Faith’s eyes widened with terror.
Once they were in the open plains, her chances of escape dwindled to nothing.
She tried to memorize the silhouettes of the men in front of them, the shape of their hats, and the lines of the horses, storing every detail in case she survived this.
In case she could one day tell the story.
A shout rang out, cutting through the oppressive silence. The rider pulled on the reins, and Faith’s body whiplashed, her head snapping up to see who’d called out.
It was Joshua. He stood in the middle of the street, revolver drawn, his silhouette stark against the rising moon. On either side of him were Brodie and Nash, their six-shooters aimed at the riders.
“Let her go!” Joshua commanded.
The riders hesitated, and Faith felt the horse shift its weight, ready to bolt. She knew Joshua was an excellent shot, but could he hit a moving target without striking her?
Joshua took a step closer, his eyes locked on the rider. “This is your only warning.”
The rider slowly lifted Faith into the air, and she feared he planned to use her as a shield. Then she felt herself falling. She landed hard on the dirt, her left shoulder taking the brunt of the impact, pain exploding.
A gunshot fractured the air. Faith flinched, expecting to feel the hot kiss of a bullet, but it never came.
She looked up to see the rider slumped sideways, clutching his upper arm.
With what strength he had left, he kicked the horse’s flanks and held onto the saddlehorn.
He galloped out of town along with his companions.
Joshua rushed toward her as Brodie and Nash ran past them, guns firing.
“Faith!” He knelt down, his hands hovering, unsure where to touch. “Where are you hurt?”
She tried to speak, but the handkerchief was still lodged in her mouth. Joshua gently pulled it out, and she gasped for air, each breath a knife in her ribs.
“I’m okay,” she lied. “My shoulder…”
He examined her with the care of a physician, noting the way she held her left arm. “Probably dislocated. We need to get you to Doc Wainwright.”
He helped her stand, hearing her painful intake of breath. “Joshua, who… who were they?”
“I don’t know.”
She grabbed his hand with her good one. “Could they be the bank robbers?”
“Maybe. Probably. I’ll let Brodie and his deputies sort it out.”
She let those words sink in, knowing he was right. But it rankled. She knew turning off her natural curiosity was next to impossible. It was a curse as much as a calling.
He shot her a look she’d seen many times during their friendship. Sliding his left arm around her waist, she leaned into him.
They started to walk, her steps hesitant. She glanced back once, toward the horizon where the riders had disappeared, and wondered if they’d return to complete what they’d started. Faith didn’t understand why they’d targeted her instead of riding out of town right after the explosion.
Faith’s jaw clenched tight against the searing pain radiating from her left shoulder. She blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears threatening to spill over. She refused to cry.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she managed through gritted teeth, though her pale face and trembling hands betrayed her words.
Joshua’s eyes clouded with concern as he studied Faith’s ashen complexion. “No, you’re not,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Your shoulder needs tending to.”
She shook her head. “I can’t let this slow me down. The Gazette—”
“The Gazette can wait,” Joshua interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. “You need to see Doc Wainwright.”
Faith released a sigh, the fight draining out of her. “I suppose you’re right.” She winced as another wave of pain washed over her.
Joshua tightened his hold around her, his presence reassuring.
She glanced up at Joshua, noting the quiet strength in his stance, the genuine concern etched across his features. A memory flashed through her mind—Joshua as a boy, always the peacemaker among his rowdy Beckett siblings, always there with a kind word or helping hand.
Faith couldn’t turn off the worry she felt. How would she get the story out about the explosion and robbery if she was laid up? Her father had always said a newspaper’s duty was to inform the public, no matter the cost.
“You’re awful quiet,” Joshua observed, breaking into her thoughts. “What’s on your mind?”
Faith managed a weak smile. “I’m thinking about the article I need to write. There has been so much going on.”
Joshua nodded, his expression thoughtful. “You’re right. I doubt what Mystic is going through is much different from all growing towns.”
Faith found herself drawing strength from Joshua, even as her shoulder throbbed mercilessly.
“Josh,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I’m just doing what anyone would do.”
Faith shook her head, wincing at the movement. “No, you’re not. You’re…” She trailed off, searching for the right words. “You’re special, Josh. Always have been.”
The air between them seemed to crackle with unspoken tension. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a sharp cry of pain escaped her lips as she stumbled on a raised spot on the boardwalk.
“Easy there.” His arm tightened around her waist to steady her. “We’re almost to the clinic.”
Nodding, she bit her lip against the fresh wave of agony.
They approached the weathered clapboard building housing the town clinic. As Joshua expected, it was closed. Reaching the clinic’s porch, Joshua guided Faith to a spot where she could lean her undamaged shoulder against the doorframe.
“Rest here for a moment. I’m going to fetch the doctor. Will you be all right for a few minutes?”
“I’ll be fine. Just… hurry back?”
Joshua’s expression softened. “Fast as I can.” He turned and sprinted toward Dr. Wainwright’s house behind the clinic, his long strides eating up the distance.
Left alone, Faith leaned her head against the cool wood of the doorframe, her mind whirling. She couldn’t shake the memory of Joshua’s strong arm around her waist, the gentle timbre of his voice. When had her childhood friend become this dependable man who made her heart flutter?
The sound of rapid footsteps approaching drew Faith’s attention. Dr. Caleb Wainwright, his brown hair slightly disheveled, came hurrying toward her with Joshua close behind. The doctor’s dark eyes quickly assessed Faith’s condition as he neared.
“Faith. Joshua tells me you’ve had quite the mishap. Let’s get you inside and have a look, shall we?”
As the doctor opened the door, Joshua stepped closer to Faith, his brow furrowed with concern. “How are you holding up?”
She managed a weak smile. “I’ve been better, but I’ll survive. Thank you for fetching the doctor so quickly.”
“Josh, if you could assist her to the examination room, I’ll gather what I need from the back.”
Supporting Faith, they made their way inside. The scent of antiseptic and herbs filled the air. Though usually comforting, they now served to heighten her anxiety.
“Josh,” Faith whispered as they walked, “I hope this doesn’t interfere with my ability to write. Those who live in Mystic will want to know what happened at the bank.”
Joshua’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “Always the intrepid reporter, aren’t you? Even with an injured shoulder, your first thought is your next story.”
Faith felt a blush creep up her cheeks. “Well, someone has to keep this town informed. Speaking of which, did you notice anything unusual when we were coming here?”
Before Joshua could answer, the doctor appeared in the doorway of the examination room. “Right this way. Josh, if Faith doesn’t mind, you can help me with this.”
“I’d rather he stay, Doctor.”
“Good,” Wainwright said as he examined her left shoulder.
Faith and Joshua’s eyes met for a brief moment. The intensity of his gaze made her breath catch, and she found herself wishing this moment of closeness could last a little longer. The moment was interrupted when Wainwright cleared his throat.
“Faith, it appears you’ve dislocated your shoulder. We’ll need to reset it in order to ease the pain and prevent further complications.”
She swallowed hard. “I suspected as much.”
The doctor turned to Joshua, who was hovering nearby. “Josh, I’ll need your assistance. Please stand on Miss Goodell’s right side and provide support.”
Joshua moved into position, his azure eyes filled with concern. “What do you need me to do?”
As the doctor explained the procedure, Faith’s thoughts drifted to what was coming. She’d heard stories of shoulder relocations, and the thought of the impending pain made her stomach churn.
“Faith.” Joshua leaned in close. “You’re the strongest woman I know. This will be over before you know it.”
His words, spoken so close to her ear, sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with her injury. She met his gaze, drawing strength from the warmth and admiration she saw there.
“All right,” Wainwright announced, positioning himself. “On the count of three, I’m going to manipulate your arm. It will be painful, but only for a moment. Are you ready?”
She nodded, gritting her teeth. “As I’ll ever be.”
“One… two…”
Before he reached three, he gave Faith’s left arm a sharp, sudden tug. The pain was immediate and intense, causing her to cry out. Her vision blurred, and for a moment, she thought she might faint.
Then, as quickly as it had come, the worst of the pain subsided, leaving behind a dull ache. She blinked rapidly, aware of Joshua’s strong hands steadying her, his touch both comforting and electrifying.
“There,” the doctor said, sounding pleased. “The shoulder’s back in place. How does it feel?”
She took a shaky breath, realizing the excruciating pain from before had indeed lessened. “Better,” she managed, her voice hoarse. “Thank you.”
As the initial shock wore off, she became acutely aware of Joshua’s proximity, his hands still gently supporting her. Their eyes met, and something seemed to shift inside her. The air seemed charged with an unspoken intensity, leaving Faith feeling both exhilarated and terrified.
Anxious to leave and believing the worst was over, she slid from the examination table, sucked in a short breath, and fainted.