Ruthless Heart

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Ruthless Heart Page 7

by Beth Williamson


  “You two are loco.” Striker held up his hands. “You need to turn your tails east and get the hell out of my town.”

  “Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad; let them say among the nations, ‘The Lord reigns!’” Eliza stepped toward him, and the sheriff jumped back a foot. She bit back a smile. Who knew listening to the Bible study on Sundays would serve her well when she’d run away from it?

  “Be on your way.” Striker held the door open.

  Eliza took Grady’s arm and helped him rise. He leaned into her and whispered.

  “You are loco.”

  She smiled and walked toward the door with her bleeding, whore-visiting, bounty hunter in tow. Just another day out on the trail with Grady Wolfe.

  Grady’s head throbbed in tune with his jaw, his eye, and his knuckles. Jesus, that sheriff had fists like oak, and he was faster than hell, considering he’d blindsided Grady. Someone else had been in the alley too, likely that big son of a bitch behind the bar. He wanted to ride back into town and teach them a thing or two about ambushing a man.

  He should be sitting in a jail cell instead of riding away with two dozen cuts and bruises on his face. Eliza had surprised him, a feat she seemed to enjoy doing every hour or so. When she’d pulled out the bible and started quoting scripture, he’d had to clench his jaw shut to keep his mouth from falling open.

  She had looked like one of those bible-beating preachers in a tent he’d seen on occasion in his travels. All full of passion and God, reminding him that the schoolmarm was so much more than any little brown wren.

  “We should stop so I can provide medical assistance to your wounds.”

  Oh, yeah, there was the book-head again. “You mean put some bandages on me?”

  “Perhaps stitches, as well. Do not worry, I have had experience with medical procedures. We do not have, I mean, we didn’t have a physician in town when I was a child, so there was always a woman trained in medicine and healing.”

  An interesting bit of information about her, one he wouldn’t have guessed, judging by what she carried in her traveling bags.

  “You have medical supplies?”

  “We do now. I had that horrible shopkeeper put some in with your purchases.” She looked down at her hands, fiddling with the reins clutched in her slender fingers. “I apologize for spending so much on me. I never intended to do it, and I am mortified by the amount.”

  Grady knew the dress had cost around eight dollars, so he couldn’t imagine what she would have spent so much money on, but he was damn curious now. Had she bought some kind of undergarments for her “services”? He’d handed over thirty dollars to the bastard Abe, and now he was mentally tallying what he’d put on the counter to buy. Somewhere in there, Eliza had spent another ten or twelve dollars.

  Question was, what did she buy?

  “There is a clearing with access to a stream. It is an ideal spot for us to stop.” She pointed ahead, but when Grady turned to look, the world began to spin a bit.

  Oh shit.

  He leaned forward and closed his eyes. As he wrapped his arms around the horse’s neck, he hoped Eliza would be able to move his two hundred pound carcass when he passed out again. Damn sheriff likely cracked Grady’s skull. Now, he really did have a reason to go back and kill him.

  His stomach roiled as the world refused to stop spinning. He wanted to warn Eliza that they really needed to stop, but all that came out was a grunt. However, he underestimated Eliza yet again.

  “Hold on, Grady. We’re almost there.”

  Was that worry he heard? Wouldn’t that be some trick. Someone was actually worried about him. Although back in the saloon, she’d certainly put on quite a show when she had seen him beaten and bloody.

  Her voice sounded closer. Then when her hand touched his back, he realized she’d ridden up next to him.

  If he wasn’t about to lose what was left of his stomach, he might think she cared about him. He snorted at the thought, then started to slide sideways, and he grasped the horse’s mane, but it wasn’t enough. Then Eliza took hold of his belt and held on firmly.

  She anchored him on the saddle and apparently took the reins from him. How the hell she could manage all that when she was short, soft, and round, he would never know. Obviously the woman had a spine of steel and muscles to match.

  “Here we are.”

  The horses stopped and Grady focused on breathing and not vomiting.

  “I am going to let go of you for just a moment or two while I dismount.”

  He knew just how graceful she was getting on and off and horse. Hopefully, he wouldn’t hit the ground before she did. Before he even knew she’d let go of him, she was by his side taking off his hat. Her cool hand touched his forehead.

  “I believe you have a concussion, Grady. It is a condition caused by a blow to the head, and I am afraid it is quite painful, although you probably already know that.” She talked faster with each word, and Grady knew then that aside from her fancy talk, Eliza did feel fear. This time it was for him, a unique and disconcerting thing.

  “I have laid out your bedroll on the grass near the stream. I am going to help you down off the horse, and if we are lucky, I can get you over to the bedroll without causing damage to either of us.” She cupped his cheek. “I apologize in advance if my clumsy efforts result in more injuries.”

  “Let’s just get on with it,” he managed to get out.

  She took hold of his belt again and wrapped his left arm around her shoulders. He slid off the saddle, and the world began to gray around the edges. Eliza held him up like a tiny shadow pushing his chest. He knew he was likely crushing her, but he was barely conscious.

  “Very good. Keep going. It is only a few more feet. We can do it.” Her breath came in pants as he felt himself moving across the ground, although his feet barely moved.

  Before he realized she was dexterous enough to throw anything down, the bedroll was below them, and slowly, he got closer to it. She was holding his weight and sinking down until he was close enough to gently roll off onto the blanket. When he hit the scratchy wool, he saw her sweaty face with worry clearly written all over it.

  “Don’t worry, Liz. It’s not the first time somebody’s broken my head.”

  “Oh, Grady.”

  He would have sworn he saw a tear snake down her cheek, but it would mean someone was crying for him. Impossible, really.

  Eliza pressed her forehead into the cool grass as she got her breath back. Grady was a lot heavier than he looked, not that she had any experience carrying unconscious men around. For a few moments there, she thought she’d collapse on the ground, flattened by his weight, and suffocate.

  She had a mental image of the sheriff finding them both dead on the trail and feeling smug over his mistreatment of them. Eliza sucked in a deep breath and pushed away the silly thoughts floating around in her mind.

  Grady needed her help. For the second time that day, he needed her. It was a different twist to their already strange relationship. Although she didn’t want him to be wounded or in need of rescuing, somewhere deep inside her, she felt a spark of pride flare to life. Someone needed her.

  Her back had already been in rough shape after the days of riding, and carrying Grady even ten feet had strained the muscles even further. As she got to her feet and straightened up, she groaned as a sharp stab of pain sounded through her. She’d never had this type of pain before, but she knew stretching would help.

  After forcing herself to use her over-used muscles, she felt a margin better. Not riding for a day or two would be even more helpful, but she knew that wasn’t likely to happen. As soon as Grady could sit on the horse, they’d be on their way. Eliza knew she’d go with him, and because the end result would be finding Angeline, her sore muscles meant nothing.

  She retrieved the first aid supplies from the bundled package on his horse and returned to his prone form. Other than to turn his head to the side so he could breathe, she hadn’t moved him. He was unc
onscious again, which didn’t bode well for his head injury. From what she’d read, forceful blows to the head could cause a concussion, which if left untreated, could be fatal. Grady couldn’t die, he wouldn’t die in her care. She had to fine Angeline, no matter what, and Eliza didn’t want him to die. She’d come to like Grady, to enjoy verbally sparring with him, not to mention kissing him.

  After successfully starting a fire and grinning stupidly at the little flames, she retrieved fresh water from the stream. With the shiny new pot, she boiled the water then set it aside to cool a bit. The medical supplies included bandages, carbolic acid, and needle and thread. Since she held to Dr. Lister’s theories on keeping patients healthy, she also used the carbolic acid to sanitize her hands, before finally, settling down beside Grady.

  His breathing was even, which was a good sign. She managed to roll him over onto his back, never forgetting for a second she had her hands on him. He was so warm to the touch, so alive. It was almost as if she couldn’t stop touching him once she started. Eliza had spent most of her life being physically kept separate from other people, with the exception of Angeline, but they did not embrace.

  Grady had touched her so many times the last few days he’d become familiar to her body, to her hands. She ran her hands up and down his body, looking for breaks and other injuries. He moaned when she touched the right side of his ribs, likely bruised by fists or perhaps shoes.

  His face and head had suffered the worst of the beating. His lip was split with coagulated blood in the wound, yet it was still seeping, and would require stitches. Both eyes were swollen and bruised, as were his cheeks. There was a gash at the hairline above his right eye, and a large lump above his left ear, which had dried blood crusted on it. That was the injury that had caused the loss of consciousness, she was sure of it.

  “If you’re done taking advantage of me, I’d appreciate a drink of water.”

  His voice startled her so badly she lost her balance and fell forward onto him. A soft oof popped out of his mouth as she pushed on his already sore ribs.

  “Oh, Grady, I am so sorry.” She scrambled back up onto her knees and peered down at his battered face. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I fell off a horse then got stomped by it.” He tried to lick his lips and flinched when his tongue touched the open wound. “Shit.”

  “Let me get you water.” She opened the canteen before holding the back of his head and dribbling some into his mouth.

  “I’m not a baby, Liz. Give me a goddamn drink already.” He obviously felt a bit better if he was cursing at her.

  “I cannot give you too much or you may vomit. I believe you have a concussion, so we need to take care of your injuries.” Eliza felt calm, but her heart still raced as she touched him, the person she’d been closer to than any other in her life. And he was the bounty hunter after her sister, the person she loved the most. What a tangle.

  “What’s a concussion?” His words were a bit slurred.

  “It is an injury that occurs from a heavy blow to the head. It can cause dizziness, nausea, and unconsciousness. You also have a large bump above your ear caused by the scalp’s veins leaking blood into and under the scalp. It may take days or even weeks to completely go down.” She recited the medical text as fresh as the day she’d read it. Then of course she’d never met someone who’d been kicked in the head.

  “Oh, that’s happy news. And here I thought I just needed a nap after the sheriff and the bastard bartender beat the shit out of me.” He swallowed more water then met her gaze. “I’ve never been in debt to a woman before, but thanks for what you did.”

  Eliza felt her cheeks warm at his thanks. Not many people said thank you where she grew up, and if they did, it wasn’t sincere. Grady was more than sincere. He grudgingly thanked her, which meant he was being truthful.

  “You are welcome. We, uh, are traveling together, and I want to contribute to our success.” Again, she sounded so awkward, tripping over her words like a fool. One day, she might be able to sound like a normal woman.

  He frowned, then winced again. “You talk so odd, woman. I wish you’d just get on with the tending.”

  Eliza inwardly cringed after he said out loud what she’d been thinking. What she should do was listen to how he spoke, and then mimic the cadence of his speech. She should have thought of it sooner. First, she needed to tend to his medical needs.

  “I need to wash and sanitize your wounds. Then I can stitch your lip. All of this is going to cause you pain. I mean, it will hurt. A lot.” Eliza managed a small smile and was rewarded with what she was beginning to refer to as a “Grady frown”.

  “Do what you gotta do.”

  She set the bandages and antiseptic on a clean cloth. With a silent apology, knowing she was about to cause him more pain, she cleaned his face with the hot water, paying special attention to the open wounds. He gritted his teeth but didn’t make a peep, even when she put carbolic acid on the cuts.

  After cleaning the needle and thread in hot water, she dipped them in the antiseptic. Although she’d sewn enough fabric to clothe ten people, she’d never stitched skin. The thought that she was about to pierce Grady’s skin made goosebumps dance up and down her spine.

  Eliza closed her eyes and thought about what could happen to him if she didn’t stitch his lip. When she opened her eyes again, she felt prepared to do what was needed. With surprisingly steady hands, she stitched his lip as if it were the seam of a very delicate fabric.

  Each time the needle went through, she bit her own lip. She was causing someone else pain, a practice she had always strived to avoid. Yet she held fast to her science and her ideals and did what she had to do.

  By the time she’d finished, his frown had disappeared, and his gaze was unfocused. He reached up and touched her lip.

  “Don’t hurt yourself, Liz. I sure as hell ain’t worth it.”

  She managed to chuckle, although inside, she knew exactly what he felt. It was what she always felt as well. Perhaps she and Grady were more alike than she thought. His touch made butterflies dance in her stomach.

  “Kiss me before I change my mind.” He sounded pained, as though he didn’t want to kiss her, but rather, needed to kiss her.

  “But your lip.” She didn’t want to cause him any further pain.

  “To hell with my lip.” Grady tugged at her hair, pulling loose a long lock from the simple bun at the back of her head. He curled his hand around the long raven strands. “Softest thing I’ve ever felt.”

  The earth moved beneath her. She was beginning to have feelings for Grady, and it frightened her more than riding alone across the Utah prairie.

  Regardless of her fear, she bent down and kissed him softly on the left side of his lip. He groaned deep in his throat, and an answering moan sounded within her. This was arousal, lust, and animal heat swirling around them.

  It was positively exhilarating.

  Her breasts pushed against his chest, making the nipples peak at the delicious friction between them. His hand reached up and cupped one, and the memory of his touch against her bare breast slid through her. She had been half-awake the last time, but she was completely awake now.

  “God, you taste good.” He breathed into her mouth, and she swallowed his breath into her own. “Let me see you Liz, show me.”

  Eliza had never been closer to another person before, emotionally, physically, or in any other way. His heat surrounded her, enveloped her.

  She hesitated only a moment before she unbuttoned her shirtwaist and was soon naked from the waist up. As she straddled his prone form, his eyes darkened as they roamed over her breasts. The dark pink nipples were hard to the point of pain, but she recognized it as a need to be touched. Eliza was new to arousal and tried to keep her scientific side in check to savor every second.

  Grady reached up with both hands and traced the outline of her areola. She shivered at the contact of his callused fingers against the delicate skin of her breast. It sent shivers thr
ough her making her body pulse with heat.

  There was something connecting the two of them together. She had no experience with anything like this physical experience. She had no choice but to let her emotions and instincts guide her. It was a unique experience, one she was unsure she’d ever have again.

  Eliza gasped as Grady pinched her nipple. A jolt zipped through her, landing right between her legs.

  She closed her eyes. “Oh, my.”

  A rusty chuckle sounded from below her. “Oh my is right. Damn, girl, you have beautiful tits.”

  She’d never heard the word before, except from Grady of course, and the coarseness of it made the sensations that much more heightened. Eliza admitted to herself she was thoroughly enjoying the naughty aspect of what she was doing with the man.

  “You have a beautiful touch.”

  “First time I heard that,” he said, his voice rumbling.

  “Me, too.”

  He laughed again. “Let me taste them.” He tugged at her waist until she was dangling above his mouth.

  While her heart skittered, she kept her words crisp. “Be careful of your lip.”

  “You stitched it up so tight, ain’t nothing gonna happen to my mouth.” Grady continued to pinch one nipple while the other lowered ever closer to his mouth.

  Eliza reveled in the hot, wet heat that overwhelmed her as he tasted her. She held her breath while his tongue swirled around the turgid peak and he sucked her into his mouth.

  “Good gracious.” She dug her nails into his shoulders. A heavy pulse started through her, pulling her deeper into the pool of sensations she could barely swim in.

  “You taste like sunshine and woman.” Surprisingly enough, he was quite a poet.

  “You feel like sunshine and man.” Eliza didn’t know what she was saying so she decided to stop trying and simply enjoy his touch.

  “Shut up, Liz,” he said it gently, and with an affection she hadn’t heard before.

  “Gladly. Do not stop what you are doing. I am thoroughly enjoying it.”

 

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