Deep in thought she milked her house cow. Could she get Cal to stay for a while? With a man’s help, the ranch could become profitable.
She didn’t want to leave here. She loved the solitude, the untamed beauty. In the springtime wild flowers bloomed and grass was plentiful. A tree-lined creek ran through the property, so even in the summer, greenery broke the monotony of dry dustiness. O’Brien, her nearest neighbor, was supplying her with meat in return for letting his cattle graze on the ranch. She wanted her own stock, wanted to use the Lazy T brand again.
Pouring another mug of coffee she leaned back in the chair. Where would she sleep tonight? In her childhood bed, that’s where. Cal wouldn’t be able to climb the ladder into the loft, and a badly wounded man couldn’t sleep on the floor.
As dusk fell, he stirred. Putting aside her sewing, she tip-toed over to the double bed and gazed down at him. His sensuous lips were slightly pursed, but when he tugged at her skirt she realized he was awake.
“How do you feel?” She checked his bandage, no blood had seeped through.
“I’m as weak as a kitten.” He struggled to sit up, and she placed a couple of pillows behind him. “Is it night time?”
“Dusk.”
“I can’t see, I’m blind.” Frantically he grabbed at the bandage covering his eyes.
She moved his hands away, yet retained hold of them. “You’re not blind, your eyes are so bruised and swollen they won’t open, that’s all.”
“Thank you for saving my life.”
She caressed his cheek with her fingertips. “Anyone with an ounce of humanity would have done the same.”
He shook his head. “Most people would have left me there to die like a mangy dog.”
“Who shot you?”
“The Tolson gang bushwacked me. Sonofabitch, they were a pack of vicious, lowdown skunks. They’ve been tracking me for weeks because their brother drew on me, and I shot him.”
“Oh, no!”
“Don’t be afraid, they’re all dead. He grasped her hand. “I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, sweet Laura.”
****
Cal sensed, rather than heard Laura move away from him. She smelt like an angel, her touch soft as thistledown, and somehow he knew she would look like an angel. Not to mention her compassion. How many lone women would have stopped to help the likes of him? He felt like ripping the bandages off his eye so he could gaze upon her face, would have had they not been swollen shut. She had red hair, he had seen that even through a mist of blood and pain.
Thirty years on this earth and he had little to show for it. He lived by the gun and would probably die by the gun. Eventually he would end up in boot hill, shot by an up and coming young gunman who wanted to make a name for himself. He must be dying or going loco to be thinking like this.
Wincing, he carefully moved one hand down over his body. He was naked except for his drawers.
In his twenties he had thought if he found the right gal he might marry and settle down. It didn’t happen though, not until a few months ago at the Gold Anchor saloon. If only he hadn’t been so drunk when he stumbled into the semi darkened bedroom, he would have seen the woman more clearly. As it was, all he could remember was her beautiful red hair, soft perfumed skin, and her name – Flame. After he sobered up the next morning, he realized her beauty and softness had all been an illusion. She was a whore and a thief. That beautiful red hair was probably as fake as her.
Sonofabitch he felt weary. He didn’t want to think of Flame, didn’t want to think of anything except ….
“Cal.”
The soft voice penetrated the thick curtain blanketing his brain.
“I’ll help you sit up so you can have a drink of water. I’m making a broth for you, but it isn’t ready yet.”
He groaned as she raised his shoulders and he used his feet to lever himself up in the bed so he could slump against the pillow.
Sitting on the bed, she held a cup against his lips. “Drink slowly,” she instructed.
He did so, even though he wanted to gulp it down his parched throat.
“Broth?” he croaked. “In the middle of the night?”
She laughed, a soft tinkling sound that did funny things to his insides. “It’s morning.”
“How can it be? You only found me a couple of hours ago.” Why wouldn’t his brain work properly?
“You’ve been asleep for nearly sixteen hours.”
“Sixteen hours?” He was beginning to sound like a parrot. At least his voice didn’t sound so rough and guttural as it did before.
“Rest now, it will help you regain your strength. I’ll change your bandages in a little while, it will make you more comfortable. I’m sorry I don’t have anything to give you for the pain.”
“Thanks.” He could just about kill for a glass of whisky, a whole bottle would be even better. “Why are you helping me? I appreciate it.”
“It was the right thing to do, someone once tried to do me a kindness and I …”
“You what?” He winced.
“Um, didn’t do right by him. I guess this is my way of saying sorry, even if he’ll never know how much I regret what happened.”
“You’d never do anything wrong, Laura, you’re an angel.” He grasped her hand.
“With a rusty halo.” She gave a soft little laugh.
Rising from the bed, she stepped back, holding the now empty cup in her hand. “After you’ve had your broth and I’ve re-dressed your wounds, I’ll smear salve on your lips, they’re very dry.”
“You could kiss them better, sweet Laura.”
She could almost believe he was flirting with her. Sudden flames of excitement raced through her body, and were extinguished almost as fast as they had come. She hated men and what they did to women.
The broth, made from strips of dried beef with a few herbs added, was ready, she poured it into a bowl and took it to him. He lay quietly, very still, and she hovered in the doorway wondering whether he was awake or not. No way of telling with his eyes bandaged.
“I’m not asleep,” he said. His voice sounded stronger and less husky than before.
“Oh, I wasn’t sure.”
“Can you help me out of bed?”
“Certainly not.”
“I need to relieve myself.”
“Oh, um. I’ve got a chamber pot.”
“To hell with that.” Groaning, he pushed himself into a sitting position and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I’m as weak as a kitten.”
“I’m not sure this is a good idea, Cal.”
“Well, I’m not going to lie here and wet myself.”
“The outhouse is right down the backyard, maybe if I helped you out to the back porch you could water the bushes.”
“Sounds like a good idea, as long as you don’t peek.” His chuckle was followed immediately by a wince. “If you bend down, I’ll put my hands on your shoulders and stand.”
She did as he asked. With a lot of groaning and a few muttered swear words, he stood, swaying slightly.
She bobbed up. “Here, I’ll put your arm around my neck and hopefully I can take some of your weight. Don’t worry about tripping over anything, there are no obstructions in our path.”
“Thanks.”
He was much taller than her, his warm breath caressing the top of her head, stirred a few loosened curls as they slowly made their way outside. The fresh air would do him good.
There was an old wicker-work chair out in the barn that her father used to sit in by the fire, with his legs stretched out to the flames, on the cold winter evenings as they relaxed after supper.
She placed Cal’s hands around the porch post so she could lead him a few paces away to a clump of bushes. “I’ll turn around until you’re finished, just yell.”
“It’s nice out here in the fresh air. I hate being indoors for too long.”
“Maybe tomorrow you could sit outside for a little while.”
She turned her back, not wanting to
intrude on his privacy. It must be embarrassing enough for him as it was. She would have hated being in the same position.
“I’m done.”
She stepped off the porch and walked up to him and took up the same position as she had to bring him out here. Once he was back in bed, she plumped up the pillows behind him. “Now for the broth.”
He ate about half a bowl before turning his head away. “Enough. I could do with a nice juicy steak.”
“No you couldn’t, it would be too much after you’ve being so seriously injured. We have to introduce food slowly otherwise you’ll be sick.”
“Is my horse all right? I should have asked about him before. We go back a long way.”
“Yes, I’m taking good care of him.” She liked the way he was concerned for his horse. She washed his chest wound in warm salty water, and was pleased it appeared clear of infection. After re-dressing it, she rose and drew the curtains before removing the bandage off his eyes. Just in case he could see, she didn’t want the room to be too bright.
His forehead had a long cut surrounded by bruising. The swelling on his eyelids had reduced a little, although they were still badly bruised. “Can you see out of them?”
“A little, I can’t seem to get the lids to move.”
“Well, you probably won’t see very well until the swelling goes down a little more. I’ll re-bandage them for you. Someone sure didn’t like you to work you over like that.” Sheer hatred must have been the driving force in kicking and punching a man so brutally.
“Vicious sonsofbitches,” he said. “They were one lot of outlaws I was glad to send off to boot hill. I hope they’re roasting in hell as we speak.”
She wondered how he was able to shoot them after being shot and beaten so severely himself. He must have the constitution of an ox.
“Sleep now,” she said, caressing his cheek. “I have a few chores needing to be done.”
“Thank you, I’m weaker than I thought.” With a sigh he slipped down on the pillows.
Chapter Six
On the third day, Laura removed the bandages off Cal’s eyes. They were still swollen, the black bruises now turning purple. “What can you see?”
She had left the curtains drawn so sudden light wouldn’t hurt his eyes.
“An auburn haired angel wearing a blue dress.”
She laughed. “I’m no angel.”
“Yes, you are, darlin’.”
A memory stirred deep within her subconscious mind. Had they ever met before? Of course they hadn’t, she was becoming fanciful.
“I thought you might like to sit outside later,” she babbled to overcome her confusion. “Once your eyes get used to the light, I’ll bring Pa’s old chair over from the storage loft in the barn.”
“I’d like that, I don’t like being stuck indoors. I wouldn’t mind a shave.” He rubbed his hand across the dark bristles on his cheeks and chin. “I always carry a shaving kit in one of my saddlebags, along with a spare shirt and drawers. I don’t like feeling too scruffy.”
“I’ve left all your belongings in the barn. I’ll put a couple of pots of water on the stove so you can bathe, then I’ll go fetch your saddlebags.”
“Will you scrub my back, angel?” He grinned.
“Certainly not.” She answered more sharply than she intended. What would he look like naked? Heat fired her cheeks at such a brazen thought. No point going all pious now Laura Prentice. It’s not as if you haven’t seen a naked man before.
After placing two large pots of water on the stove, she walked over to the barn to pick up Cal’s saddlebags. The temptation to search them thoroughly and see what they contained was almost overwhelming. She couldn’t invade his privacy, it wasn’t fair. Before she succumbed she hooked them over one arm and retraced her footsteps to the cabin.
She was managing the ranch reasonably well, even if there were a few things she couldn’t do. Her father had done much more around the place than she had ever given him credit for. Would Cal stay if she asked him to? He couldn’t stay in the cabin with her once he was well, too dangerous. It wasn’t him she didn’t trust. He made her feel things she didn’t want to feel. Want things she couldn’t have – a loving husband and babies. Mentally giving herself a shake for such foolish, wishful thinking, she stepped on to the porch and entered the cabin.
In the bedroom, Cal leaned back against the pillows his eyes closed, his clasped hands resting on the bed sheet. She hesitated.
“I’m not asleep.”
“Oh. Well, here’s your saddlebags.” She placed them on the bed so he could easily reach them. “I’ll put the tub on the porch, it’s nice out in the sun.”
He stared at her through deep blue eyes. “You need a separate bathing room.”
“I would like one. Pa was always going to enclose the end of the porch and set up a room for bathing and laundry. He bought the timber, only he never got around to doing it. I’ll leave you to sort through your things.” She hurried out to the back porch and retrieved the tin bath hanging on a large wall hook.
After lugging the tub up on to the porch, she took a clean towel out of the dresser, and found a cake of soap which she deposited on a chair close to the tub. She made her own soap to save money. They did contain lavender oil, although the perfume wasn’t so strong a man couldn’t use it.
Once the water boiled she carted it out to the bath and emptied it in. From the well she drew up two buckets of water. The steam rose as cold water hit hot.
Cal was sitting on the edge of the bed when she returned to him. She stared at him. Even with a battered face he was a ruggedly handsome man in his prime. Ripples of excitement and she didn’t know what else, stirred in her stomach.
He glanced up. Had he seen her staring at him?
“Your bath is ready.”
He grinned. “You going to wash my back?”
“Certainly not, you’re capable of doing it yourself.” His open saddlebag, a shirt and drawers were next to him. “Do you need help?”
“Not sure.” He grunted with the strain as he rose to his feet. “I feel so weak and drained.”
“What did you expect? You came within a whisker of dying. Here, lean against me.”
He grinned. “What living, breathing man could resist such an offer?”
She helped him on to the back porch and hovered uncertainly.
“I’ll be all right, unless you’ve changed your mind and want to wash my back.”
She laughed. “Caleb Donnelly, you are a naughty man. I’ve got a few things to do inside. Yell out if you need my help. Just be careful you don’t wet your bandage.”
Laura decided this would be a good opportunity to change his sheets. She could put the copper on tomorrow and catch up on her washing.
His saddlebags lay on the bed. She picked them up and placed them on the dresser.
You like him, admit it. All right I do. It would be lonely here once he left, and leave he would. A small ranch wouldn’t keep a drifter and gunslinger interested for long, unless…. She couldn’t do it, risk his good opinion of her by volunteering to give him her body. The thought of such physical contact with him wasn’t abhorrent, quite the opposite. If he said he loved her, and wanted a permanent relationship, she would willing to do it.
She was becoming too fond of him. When he left she would be devastated, but that would be better than him finding out she was no longer a virgin. Alex had taken that, as well as her respectability.
Grabbing the bed coverings, she wrenched them off, likewise the sheets. Once the bed was re-made, she tidied up the room, drew the curtains back and opened the window to let in the warm, fresh air, then returned to the kitchen. Early summer was her favorite time of year. The weather was not exceedingly hot, allowing the wild flowers to still bloom down by the creek.
“I’m all cleaned up.” He stood in the doorway steadying himself against the wall. Dressed only in his drawers, freshly shaved and with a grin on his handsome face. His overlong black hair was quit
e wavy now it was damp.
She quickly brought her fluttering heart under control.
“It’s pleasant out here.”
“Yes, it is. I’ll go over and get Pa’s old chair from the barn, and you can sit out here for a while. The fresh air will do you good.”
“You don’t mind seeing a man wearing only his drawers?” he teased.
“I can put up with it at this point. No use struggling to get you into your pants only to have to take them off in a little while.”
“If you say so, but you’re a mighty bossy angel.”
“I have to be, can’t have you overdoing things and getting a relapse.”
“I could stay here longer.”
She shook her head in exasperation. “I’ve told you, Cal, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want to.” The thought of him leaving filled her with dread. How had she let him slip under her guard?
“I’m well enough now to sleep in my bedroll in the barn.”
“You are not. I don’t mind sleeping in the loft, it was my childhood bedroom, although I’ve been storing onions, pumpkins and potatoes up there.”
“Laura, I’m deeply hurt.”
“What!” She rushed over to him.
“Not that kind of hurt, darlin’. Hurt, because you’d rather sleep with vegetables than me.”
She let out a shocked gasp. “You. You….I’m off to get the chair.” She darted away, with his laughter ringing in her ears.
Was the man a mind reader? He had come so close to saying what she’d been thinking, goose bumps pebbled her arms.
She found the chair and wiped off the grime and spider webs with a rag. It was light fortunately, so she could easily carry it. Back at the cabin, Cal was sitting on the porch, he was obviously not as well as he thought he was.
“Here we are,” she called out cheerily, hoping to cover her turmoil.
“I’m not as strong as I thought.” He gave a rueful grin.
“See, I told you so. Sit here and I’ll make us coffee, unless you prefer tea?”
“Not tea.” He screwed up his nose. “I only ever drink whisky, water and coffee. In that order.”
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