Free The Outlaw Takes a Bride by Susan Page Davis Page B

over to the fence as soon as Johnny whistled.
    The sun hung low, and they worked quickly to adjust the straps on the double harness. The fit wasn’t too far off. Reckless was obviously a little smaller than one of Mark’s horses had been. In less than ten minutes, the team was ready. Cam led them over to the wagon, and Johnny bent to hitch the evener to the wagon tongue.
    “I’ll hold ’em while you get up on the seat,” Cam called. “Get the reins, now.”
    One rein was hitched to each horse’s bridle. Johnny gathered them and climbed into the wagon. He had driven a team hundreds of times, but he wasn’t prepared for the way Reckless and Paint plunged forward the second Cam let go of them. Johnny couldn’t tell which horse panicked first, but they charged across the barnyard, jolting the wagon, and his sawing on the reins had no effect. Paint let out a neigh that sound like a scream, and Reckless jumped away from him, trying to elude the tornado that was strapped beside him. The noise of the wagon rattling behind them probably contributed to the alarm, and Reckless tore for freedom. Paint, on the other hand, pushed against the chestnut, forcing him too close to the gatepost at the corner of the corral. Reckless squealed, and they both crow-hopped to the right, swinging the wagon around.
    Johnny realized his danger just before the impact and threw himself across the wagon seat, hoping he could jump clear. The wagon lurched and tilted on its side. He hit the ground in a haze.

CHAPTER 6

    T he spinning darkness in Johnny’s head cleared slowly. Vaguely he heard Cam say sternly, “Ho, now! Whoa, son! Stop that.”
    Johnny lifted his head a couple of inches from the dirt. Pain cut through his skull like an ax blade. He closed his eyes. The horses shrieked, and Cam’s voice grew more insistent. “Settle down. Easy, now.”
    Johnny tried to push himself up. Pain raced up his arm. He rolled over onto his back and clutched the offending limb to his side. It took several seconds for him to realize it was his right arm that hurt. Just great. What else could go wrong?
    Finally, he rolled onto his left side and raised his throbbing head. The team had stopped fifty yards up the dusty road, after dragging the incapacitated wagon that far. Several sideboards and stakes had come off it and littered the ground. Cam had caught up with the horses and now grasped the bridles of the spooky cow ponies.
    He looked toward Johnny and shouted, “You all right?”
    The horses shied at his loud voice, and Cam struggled to hold their heads low.
    “Can you help me?”
    Johnny shook his head and winced. Even that hurt.
    “We need to unhitch them,” Cam said. “One wheel is smashed.”
    “Oh, great.” Johnny got slowly to his feet and staggered to the team, holding his right arm tight against his side. “I think my arm’s busted.”
    “No foolin’?” Cam asked, bending sideways to look past his pinto.
    “No foolin’.”
    “I guess you can’t hold their heads, then.”
    Johnny eyed the heaving, twitching cow ponies. “Hold ’em steady. I can probably unhook the tugs with one hand.”
    The next five minutes were the most excruciating of his life, but he finally freed the horses from the wagon, and Cam led them to the corral. Johnny sagged against the fence, panting. A breeze ruffled his hair and cooled his damp forehead. He didn’t want to move again.
    Cam closed the gate and trudged back to Johnny. His eyes narrowed as he sized up the damage.
    “Really broke it, huh?”
    “I’m pretty sure,” Johnny said. “I landed on it hard.”
    Cam poked his forearm with one finger, and Johnny flinched.
    “Don’t do that.”
    Cam grunted and walked a couple of yards to stoop and retrieve his hat. “So now what?” He scooped it up and patted it onto his head.
    “Well, we sure can’t take the wagon into town tomorrow.” Johnny eyed the wreckage with distaste.
    Cam edged his way around the wagon, taking in the breakage. “Nope,