JADE STAR by Catherine Coulter

‘Then what will we do?’

Saint knew he couldn’t leave Byrony. Yet that bastard Wilkes had his wife. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Go to your wife now.’

Alone with Thackery, Saint quickly dug out the bullet. He wanted Thackery conscious to tell him where Wilkes had captured her, but not before he’d gotten the bullet out. He was a strong man, a healthy man. He would live. Mammy Bath stood at his elbow, handing him instruments, cloths as he asked for them. Within minutes Thackery’s shoulder was bound firmly.

‘Now the smelling salts, Mammy,’ Saint said. He waved them under Thackery’s nose. ‘Thackery,’ he said, leaning over the man. ‘I know you hurt and I’ll give you some laudanum in just a moment. Tell me where you were when Wilkes shot you.’

‘Better yet, let him tell me. You wouldn’t know, Saint, even if he told you.’

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Saint moved aside and let Brent lean over Thackery.

For a moment the pain was so great that Thackery couldn’t breathe.

‘It’s all right, John,’ Brent said. ‘Take your time.’

‘At the northeast edge of the valley near MacGiver’s place. I saw him heading south with her, and west, toward the ocean. He knew, Dr. Saint, oh yes, he knew that Miz Hammond was going to have the baby. He timed it that way.’

Saint gently patted Thackery’s shoulder to calm him.

There was another piercing scream from upstairs, and both men froze.

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Brent felt fear crawl through him.

‘You’ve got to go, love,’ Byrony whispered. ‘You’ve got to bring her back safely. I have a saint to look after me. A real-live saint. Go, love.’

Then she was lost to him and to reason, her eyes glazing with pain.

A man shouldn’t have to make such a choice, Saint thought, even as he gently rubbed Byrony’s back to ease the contraction. He met Brent’s eyes.

‘Take care of my wife, Saint,’ Brent said. ‘I’ll get Jules, I swear it. And I’ll kill the bastard, you can count on that.’

But I want to kill him, Saint thought, exhilarated by the rage that filled him.

He nodded then, unable to find words. He watched Brent lean down and kiss his wife’s pale lips.

Then he was gone. Saint listened to his purposeful stride down the front stairs.

Saint walked to the window that faced the front of the house. He saw Brent tie a rifle to his saddle, saw him thrust two guns into his belt. A half-dozen men, all of them black,

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waited for him to mount.

The horses whinnied and reared. Then they were gone, leaving only the thick welter of dust kicked up from the horses’ hooves.

It’s just as well I didn’t tell him, Saint thought, walking back to the bed. He sat down beside Byrony and gently took her limp hand into his. ‘Listen to me, Byrony,’ he said, his voice low and insistent., pitched to cut through her pain. ‘The baby’s turned wrong and I’ve got to straighten him. Byrony, do you understand me?’

He realized that she didn’t. He called to Mammy Bath. ‘Come here and hold her. You heard what I told her?’

‘Yes, Docta Saint, I heard.’

It wasn’t the first time Saint had wished his hands were smaller. There was no help for it, of course. He had to try to turn the baby. If he failed, he knew Byrony Hammond would die. And what of Jules? What of his beautiful, sweet wifc? Wbat was Wilkes saying to her, doing to her?

Saint shook himself and forced his mind to the matter at hand.

‘It is quite odd, I’ll admit that,’ Jameson Wilkes said, and unconsciously tightened his

arm around Jules’s waist. But he’d wanted her too long, so long in fact that he could no longer remember when she wasn’t in his thoughts. And in his opium dreams.

He sounds so reasonable, so reasoning, Jules thought, a stirring of hope going through her. ‘I can be nothing to you,’ she continued, her voice as persuasive as she could make it. ‘You’ve only imagined that you want me. But I am a married woman. I am not a virgin any longer. Didn’t you tell me that my virginity was my only value?’

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