Swept Away by Mary Connealy

satisfaction grew into triumph. He’d found someone he could terrify and it wassurprising how all those worries about Stone faded when he was busy training Glynna.
    He swung the door open just as Glynna came into the kitchen. Still limping. Weak. Worthless.
    She took one look at his face and knew. The power of it was as heady as whiskey.
    “I’ve got a few things to get straight with you, wife.”
    A whimper from her lips reminded him he’d married a weakling and it infuriated him. Right now, fury suited him.



C HAPTER 8
    Dare didn’t get stew for lunch, and he knew just who to blame.
    Glynna Greer. Her house was stolen, her children were rude, and her husband, the richest man in the area, didn’t believe in paying doctor bills.
    Dare fumed as he rode for the Greer ranch—the Stone ranch , he corrected himself. He’d had a message sent from the ranch that a doctor was needed. He wondered what it was this time.
    He galloped out, wishing he was coming with his gun loaded and his Regulator friends at his side.
    Dare well remembered the last time he’d been summoned. And now, this morning, only weeks later, the same hired hand who’d come for Dare last time had ridden up again.
    “You need to hurry this time, Doc. She . . . she . . . fell again. She’s hurt bad.”
    That was about the same thing the man had said last time, so Dare didn’t get worked up. Most likely the woman hadn’t yet healed from her earlier clumsiness.
    Tempted to ignore the summons, Dare had only gone because he wanted to see what the woman would say. Seeif she had any shame for her rude ways. Well, he’d have gone anyway. A doctor couldn’t just ignore something like this. But just in case she threw him out again, which he expected to happen, he rehearsed the story of “The Boy Who Cried Wolf.” Maybe a fable, well told, would be just the thing to get Mrs. Greer to let go of her snooty ways.
    As he rode that last stretch, where the space between the hills got so narrow and the layers of red stone closed in around him, his eyes were on the gunmen standing high above him. They had their guns aimed down at him.
    One of them seemed to be smiling, as if delighting in the power he held over Dare’s life. Dare looked at those rocks, too. Hanging on to the bluffs more by habit than anything. Some boulders, some huge flat slabs of red stone. Dare wondered if a shot would set off an avalanche. The ground along the narrow stretch was littered with smaller stones that said a boulder could and did come tumbling down from time to time. A good rancher would take charge of this situation by knocking over or dynamiting the large stones deliberately. Yet Dare suspected Greer liked the menacing danger.
    One sentry pointed his rifle up in the air and pulled the trigger. A signal.
    The stones didn’t roll, thank God.
    It would be a pleasure to run Greer and his lookouts out of the territory. Dare intended to enjoy every minute of it.
    When he rode up and tied his horse to the hitching post just outside the house, the son was waiting at the door, just like last time. That time the boy had tried to block Dare from coming in.
    Dare braced himself.
    “Hurry.” The boy swung the door wide. “Ma’s hurt bad.”

    As if a cracked rib and a sprained ankle weren’t bad? She’d had those the last time he’d ridden out here. This time, instead of being sullen, the boy looked sick with fear.
    Dare picked up speed.
    He found Glynna Greer lying on the floor, sprawled out at the bottom of the stairs. Unconscious.
    Dare rushed to her side, feeling guilty for not galloping all the way here. Dropping to his knees, he felt for her pulse. It was strong and steady. Some of Dare’s fear eased—but not much. “How long ago did she fall?”
    “Uh . . . it was, she was like this when I woke up this morning. It’s been two hours . . .” The boy’s voice broke. He dropped to his knees on the other side of Glynna, across from Dare, swallowed hard, and added,