Jake, Devils on Horseback, Book 2 by Beth Williamson

the cursing begun.
    “Goddammit, Gid, what the hell just happened?” It was Lee. “My fucking brother just got shot and you didn’t protect him. I thought you were sworn to do that.”
    Not good news. Zeke was the strategic one who complemented their compass, Gideon.
    “I was trying to get to him, Lee. It ain’t easy in the dark when I don’t know what the hell is two feet in front of me.” Gideon sounded strained and angry.
    “He was pinned down and you couldn’t get to him?”
    A scuffle ensued and grunts filled the air. Jake rode in as fast as he could, hooting as he slid to a stop and launched himself at the grappling figures on the ground. He yanked on hair and pulled on arms until they broke apart, breathing like racehorses.
    “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but if Zeke is hurt then rolling around like five-year-olds isn’t going to help him.” Jake felt his control return fully as he wrestled with his friends’ problems instead. Nothing like a distraction to make a man forget he was going crazy.
    Lee just growled while Gideon sighed.
    “This night couldn’t possibly get any worse.” Gideon stood and brushed off his pants. “Jake’s right. Let’s get Zeke back to town and the doctor.” He turned to Jake. “How’s the woman?”
    A rush of pure ice made Jake’s tongue freeze while images of Margaret’s suffering paraded through his mind. He cleared his throat and swallowed until his voice returned. “She’s hurt, I don’t know how badly. Gabby, I mean Miss Rinaldi, was looking for the doc when I came after you.”
    Too bad it was dark enough that Gideon couldn’t see Jake’s lying eyes. He’d left Gabby high and dry while he ran like a dog with his tail between his legs.
    Coward .
    “Fine then, let’s get him patched up enough to ride.” Gideon led Jake to where Zeke lay in the dirt. “He’s out cold and I think it’s because he hit his head. Help him.”
    Zeke lay on the ground, blood staining his right arm. Jake cursed his trembling hands as he checked his friend for injuries. He found a bullet wound clean through in his right arm and a sticky mess on his forehead. After divorcing himself from his own problems, Jake was able to focus on Zeke and making sure he’d survive.
    Jake tied his bandana around the wound, tight enough to be a tourniquet and a bandage. He felt Zeke’s head and found a goose-egg-sized bump just above his right temple, sticky but not actively bleeding.
    “He’s just out from the hit on the head. Let’s get him up on his horse and get him back to town.” Jake put his arms under Zeke’s, and Gideon grabbed his legs.
    With Lee’s help, the three of them got Zeke belly-down on his horse and bound his hands and feet with the rope from Gideon’s saddle beneath the horse’s belly. Jake and Gideon rode on either side of his roan, making sure he didn’t fall off on the way back to Tanger. The ride back took four times as long as the ride out and each second ticked away along with the blood from Zeke’s wounds. God knew what would happen because of the head injury—men were known to be completely different after such a wound. He hoped Zeke was just knocked out and didn’t have any lasting effects.
    They arrived back to a very quiet, dark town. Everyone, it seemed, had gone into hiding while the Devils were gone. Not that Jake blamed them, the raiders were fast, smart and deadly. He led his friends to the doctor’s clinic, which had a single light burning in a downstairs window. Jake knocked on the door while Lee and Gideon untied Zeke from the saddle.
    After a moment the door was answered by a slender, nervous-looking man with thick spectacles and short brown hair. He pushed the rims up his nose and peered at Jake.
    “Are you Mr. Sheridan?”
    “I am. Are you the doc Gabby told me about?” Jake resisted the urge to ask about Margaret. He didn’t want to know if she was there or he might not walk in the door. The last thing he needed was to