Free Hearts Under Siege (Civil War Collection) by Kathryn Kelly

washed over her at the sight of him. She opened her mouth to call out to him, but the sound stuck in her throat. Instead, a gunshot rang out. Thomas swore and fought to keep his horse from going wild and tossing him off its back.
    A Yankee lay sprawled on the ground so close she could see streaks of blood across his cheeks. He pointed his rifle at Thomas.
    Until now, she had forgotten the pistol in her hand. With calm and deliberate determination, Alexandra raised her weapon with a deep breath, aimed and fired. The Yankee fell, and a dark spot of blood spread over his heart before he even knew she was there.
    Thomas slid from his horse, stumbled toward her, and using his arms to balance himself, stopped in front of her.
    “Thank you,” he said.
    “Thank God you’re all right,” she said, fighting back tears.
    “We have to get out of here.” He grabbed her hand and led her back the few feet to the horse, which stood where he’d left him.
    “Wait!”
    “What is it?” he asked, scanning their surroundings.
    They moved toward the rear of the wagon train.
    “We have to help Eli.”
    Thomas turned to look at the unmoving soldier lying on the ground, covered in blood and dark streaks of gunpowder smeared across his face, neck, and down his jacket. The young man’s chest rose and fell—he lived, but for how long? If they tried to carry him, he would only lose more blood. No doctor lurked about to help.
    “We can’t help him, now, chérie,” he uttered.
    A tear slipped down her cheek. She hadn’t liked Eli at first, but they couldn’t just leave him here to die.
    “Please…” She looked at him, her heart pleading. “I can help him,” she continued, “at least let me try.”
    ****
    Thomas sighed. He was going to regret this. “Fine, but it will slow us down.”
    Her grateful smile thanked him well enough. He looked around for some way to fashion a travois, and for any sign of the enemy. He didn’t see any Yanks lingering, but he wouldn’t let down his guard.
    Between the two of them, he and Alexandra managed to locate two sturdy saplings, recently fallen. Thomas secured his tattered blanket to the limbs and tied the whole contraption to the saddle of his horse. It wouldn’t last long. The blanket would rip before they covered any real distance.
    He mounted and pulled Alexandra up in front of him. Sporadic gunfire rang out in the distance—a sign the fighting drew to a close. She held on in silence, clutching her saddlebags to her chest as they left the battle behind them.
    “Can we save any of the supplies?” she asked.
    “We were outnumbered and caught by surprise. There’s nothing.”
    In silence, she twisted from her waist and leaned her cheek against his shoulder. She yanked away. “My God. You’re bleeding!”
    “It’s nothing.”
    “You were shot.”
    “It’s nothing,” he repeated.
    “We have to stop the bleeding.”
    “Do it while we ride, then. We can’t risk stopping.”
    Alexandra frowned as she stared into his eyes. “You are a most difficult man. This is no scratch. You could faint at any moment.”
    “I won’t faint,” he said.
    Alexandra nodded.
    “You’ve never tended a man sitting upon a horse, much less a moving horse, have you?” he asked.
    “No, and not being astride myself as well. I hope I never again have the misfortune.” She applied pressure to the wound. “The bullet passed cleanly through your shoulder. If infection doesn’t set in,” she added, examining the wound, “your recovery will be complete.”
    “There’s whiskey in my saddlebag,” he said.
    She placed her own saddlebags behind him.
    In order to reach his bags, she pressed against him. The horse’s movements turned the pressure into more of a caress of her breast against his chest. A jumble of excitement and hope that this accidental caress could lead to something more swamped his emotions. However, uncertainty washed over him. He glanced down at her full lips and lowered eyes. With a mere