“Zeke?” Katherine peered up at him. “You don’t look so good.”
“I’m okay.” He fished in his pocket for the house key and handed it to her. “Go ahead and get Amanda out of the rain. I’m sure she’s hungry.”
“No, we’re going in together.” She took hold of his arm. “You can lean on my shoulder if you want.”
He was beginning to see little white spots in front of his eyes. “That’s okay. Go on. I’ll be right there.”
“Nope.” She gave his arm a little pull. “I’m not going without you.”
“Katherine, I think I—” The world went black.
* * *
THE NEXT THING ZEKE KNEW, someone was trying to take off his pants. And they were damned determined about it, too—pulling, puffing and cussing a blue streak. It wasn’t helping the pain in his ankle one bit, either. He slowly sat up, propping his hands on the floor behind him, and came face-to-face with Katherine.
She stopped tugging on his pants. She’d only been using one hand, which explained a lot of her awkwardness. “You’re conscious! Oh, thank God!”
Nearby, Amanda fretted in her bassinet.
He tried to figure things out. The last he remembered he was outside. “How did I get into the cabin?”
“I dragged you.” She looked a mess, her hair soaked, mud streaking her face and the front of her shirt.
“Dragged me? With a sprained wrist? Katherine, you should never have tried to—”
“I was supposed to leave you out there?”
“Maybe not.” Even though she was wet and covered with mud, she was the sexiest-looking woman he’d ever seen. “I guess I passed out.”
“You went down like a felled tree.” She resumed pulling at his pants.
The movement hurt like hell, but he kept his tone light. She was only trying to help. “What are you doing?”
She glanced up. “You need to get these off.”
“Why?”
She frowned impatiently at him. “I don’t know much about first aid, but in every movie I’ve ever seen, when the hero gets hurt, the heroine undresses him and puts him to bed. Besides, you’re all muddy and you shouldn’t get into that bed in muddy clothes. And besides that, your ankle is swelling, and if I don’t get these jeans off soon, you’ll never get them off without cutting them. These look sort of new and I didn’t think you’d appreciate having them cut up.”
“I don’t have to get into bed.”
“Are you kidding? You just passed out. You should be in bed.” She gave another yank and the jeans came free. She took them to the door, opened it and tossed them outside before coming to stand over him. “I got your floor all muddy, too, but that can wait. Take off your shirt and I’ll help you into bed.”
He wished he could be pain-free enough to enjoy this. Then Amanda’s fussing became more demanding and he realized Katherine had postponed taking care of the baby to tend to him. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I can manage from here. I’ll bet you haven’t fed Amanda yet.”
“No, and I’m not going to until you’re in bed and we’ve done...well, whatever is necessary to that nasty-looking ankle. Take off your shirt. It’s all muddy from where I dragged you across the yard and up the steps. I’ll get a towel to get some of the dirt out of your hair.”
He finally decided the best way to restore some calm to the situation was to do as she asked. She seemed to have a program in mind, and it had to proceed in order, beginning with him climbing into bed.
He glanced over at the bassinet. “Sorry, Mandy. Guess you’ll have to get in line.” He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off as Katherine returned with a towel and knelt down behind him.
“You really need your hair washed.” With her left hand she began rubbing the towel briskly over his hair and scalp. “But we’ll have to take care of that later. This will get the worst of it.”
He thought of mentioning that she was working on the wrong end of him. While she was concentrating on getting the mud out of his hair, his ankle seemed to be swelling more every second. But the sensation of having her rub his head felt good, especially when she swayed close enough that her soft breasts jiggled against his shoulders. To hell with his ankle.
“There. That’s better.” She stood and walked around to peer down at him. “Now, do you think you can stand, or do you want me to help you?”
He was beginning to get in the swing of this. Certain things could make a guy forget he was in pain. “I might need some help.”
“Okay.” She crouched down beside him. “Put your arm around my shoulders. When I count to three, I’ll start lifting. Put your weight on me and on your good ankle.”
“I will.” He put his arm around her, and she slipped her arm around his waist. Nice. Her smooth cheek was only a breath away. He watched her clench her jaw in concentration and a wave of tenderness swept over him at her earnest attempt to render aid.
“Here we go,” she said. “On three. One, two, three.” She gripped his waist and heaved.
He could tell she wasn’t terribly familiar with helping people to their feet, and his bulk threatened to topple them both until he put some of his weight on his bum ankle. With a soft grunt of pain, he rebalanced himself and leaned fully on Katherine. The feel of her warm body almost made up for the sensation of someone cutting at his ankle with a chain saw.
“I’ll bet it hurts,” she murmured.
“Some.”
“Let’s get you over to the bed.”
He allowed her to guide him there, where she’d already folded back the sheets and propped up one pillow as a backrest. She turned him and eased him down to a sitting position. Before he took his arm from her shoulders, he fantasized pulling her down with him. He might really screw up his ankle with a stunt like that, but his ankle wasn’t much of a consideration. Amanda was, however. Her fussing had turned into an outraged wail. She needed Katherine to feed her.
“Let me lift your legs for you so you don’t strain that ankle any more than necessary,” she said.
“All right.” He couldn’t remember ever allowing someone to baby him like this. The few times he’d become injured he’d always handled the problem himself or made do with a quick trip to the emergency room. No one had ever fussed over Zeke Lonetree. And damn, but it felt nice.
She held both feet carefully as she maneuvered him fully onto the bed. “Okay, now what?”
He leaned back with a little sigh. Maybe relaxing on a comfy bed wasn’t such a bad idea. “I’m fine now. You can feed Amanda.”
“I know there’s something more we should do with your ankle. Or is it too late?”
He grinned at her. Propped in bed with his weight off his ankle made him feel a lot feistier. “Yeah, it’s too late. I think we’ll have to amputate.”
“Don’t even joke about a thing like that. What can I do for you?”
“Well, if we elevate it with a pillow, that will probably help with the swelling.”
“Makes sense. If you’ll hand me the other pillow, I’ll fix it up for you.”
Despite the pain when she lifted his ankle, he enjoyed her hands on him way too much. The brush of her bandaged wrist reminded him that she’d probably suffered some pain dragging him into the cabin, yet she’d done it. She obviously cared about him, which made the chemistry between them even sweeter. But he tried to seem unaffected by her touch. He didn’t want her to think she was arousing him and stop these gentle ministrations.
She stood back and surveyed him. “Done. What else?”
“I don’t suppose the freezer’s cold enough to keep anything frozen.”
“Nope. I checked that right after I dragged you in here.”
He smiled at her. “I thought you didn’t know anything about first aid?”
“Well, duh. That
’s what you did for my wrist. I was pretty sure I should use some ice for your ankle if we had any. But we don’t.”
“Then I guess you’ve done all you can for now.”
She gazed at him doubtfully. “Aspirin? For the pain?”
He shook his head. “Go feed the baby.”
“Okay.” She glanced down at her mud-spattered shirt. “Mind if I borrow another shirt and change first?”
“Be my guest. Why not let me hold her until you get ready?”
“Oh, Zeke, she needs changing and she’s hungry and squirmy. I don’t think—”
“Let me give it a shot. My ankle’s not in great shape, but there’s nothing wrong with my arms. Maybe I can settle her down some.”
“Well, if you want to try, that would be very nice.” She hurried over to the bassinet, picked up Amanda and held the baby away from her muddy shirt as she brought her over. “Hey, Mandy, don’t cry. Daddy’s going to hold you for a while until I get cleaned up. Be a good girl.”
He discovered he liked the way Katherine said that—Daddy’s going to hold you—as if Amanda should feel honored. Actually he was the one who felt honored to be able to hold her, even fussing the way she was. He cradled her against his chest and started telling her about his pet raccoon Stinky. Sure enough, she stopped crying and acted as if she were hanging on every word.
While he told his story, he was aware of Katherine opening not one, but two dresser drawers.
“So you really do have a gun in there,” she said.
He interrupted his story to answer her. “Yeah. If I were a horse you could shoot me and put me out of my misery.”
She paused beside the bed, a red-and-black shirt in her hands. “Does it really hurt that bad?”
“No,” he lied. “I’m kidding.”
Her forehead creased in worry. “Could it be broken?”
“No. Just a sprain.” Except that he knew certain types of sprains could be as painful and take almost as long to heal as a broken bone. If he hadn’t started out with that kind, he’d probably created it by walking on it all the way back to the cabin. “Now go change your shirt before Mandy gets bored with my stories.”
“Be right back.”
After she went into the bathroom, Zeke returned his attention to Amanda. “Okay, where was I? Did I ever tell you about the time that Stinky got loose in the ranch house kitchen? No? Well, I thought the cook was going to fix raccoon stew after that little episode. But it wasn’t my fault. I’ll tell you a secret. It was Shane Daniels who almost got Stinky barbecued. You’d like Shane. He’s...”
Zeke paused as he wondered how his buddies from the ranch would react to the news about Amanda. One thing was for sure, they’d have kicked his butt if he’d refused to have anything to do with his daughter. Parenthood was pretty sacred to those guys, for obvious reasons. It was pretty sacred to Zeke, too, which was why he’d originally thought he’d rather be no parent at all than a half-assed one. But now that he’d agreed to stay in touch with Amanda, he’d just have to figure out how to be a decent father under crummy circumstances.
Amanda began to wiggle and whimper.
“I’m sorry, sunshine.” He brought his attention back to the baby in his arms. “I’ll bet you want me to finish the story. It was like this. Shane decided to play a joke on the cook. And that’s when all the ruckus started.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
KATHERINE KEPT THE BATHROOM door open a crack so she could hear Zeke’s tales of Stinky while she washed the mud off and changed into a clean shirt.
His raccoon stories charmed her tremendously. So that’s why he’d been so determined to make sure the raccoons survived. She wondered if he’d tell Amanda those stories again when she was old enough to understand them. And if Amanda would come back to New York demanding to have a raccoon for a pet.
Katherine tried to imagine what Zeke would look like by that time, closing in on forty, maybe with touches of gray in his raven-black hair. Instinctively she knew he’d only become more attractive as he grew older—his type always did. Some woman was bound to come along who fancied herself a pioneer lady ready to live in Zeke’s wilderness with him.
It would be heaven. Katherine glanced guiltily in the bathroom mirror as the traitorous thought glowed like neon in her brain. She couldn’t allow herself to think such things. Naomi was offering her the top job at a prestigious magazine. Anyone who turned that down would be foolish, not to mention incredibly ungrateful. Besides, Naomi would be crushed, and Katherine could never do anything to hurt her generous and loving godmother.
She nudged off her muddy shoes and peeled off her socks. Sure enough, blisters. She left the socks off. While giving her hands one last wash after handling the socks, she wondered if a soak in the icy water would be almost the same as ice on Zeke’s ankle. Once Amanda was fed she’d see about that.
She ran a comb quickly through her damp hair and looked at her bandaged wrist. In order to get it somewhat clean she’d had to saturate it with water and it was soggy and uncomfortable, but she couldn’t worry about that now. She left the bathroom as Zeke was winding up a story about Stinky’s adventures with a ranch dog named Shep. After taking another dish towel from the cupboard to use as a diaper, she walked over to the bed, amazed at how quietly Amanda lay in Zeke’s arms.
He glanced up at her. “You look good in red.”
And you look good in bed, she thought. “Thanks. I’ll take her now.”
“She’s a good baby, isn’t she?”
Using her left arm, Katherine lifted Amanda and carried her over to the table to change her. “I think so. I don’t have much basis of comparison except for the babies of employees at Cachet.” She unsnapped the sleeper. Good thing she’d washed the spare plus the soiled dish towels and dried them by the cooking fire before they left on the hike.
“I’ll bet the other babies cried more than she does.”
“It seems that way.” She’d used considerably less duct tape on this diaper, so it wasn’t such a struggle to take off. “Other mothers have told me that it’s just luck when you get an even-tempered baby. I think it might also be because I keep her on a regular schedule and make her feel as secure as possible.”
“Or maybe it’s because of me.” He sounded downright smug about it.
“You?” Katherine placed a restraining hand on Amanda and turned toward him. “What, you passed on some calm-and-peaceful genes?”
“In a way.”
Amanda had apparently run out of patience. She started to wail like a little banshee.
“Even Amanda disagrees about that.” Katherine taped up the diaper and snapped Amanda into her suit as quickly as possible, considering the soggy and unwieldy bandage on her wrist. Then she picked her up and started over toward the rocker as Amanda continued to cry.
“Would you pull the rocker over here and talk to me while you feed her?” Zeke asked above the hubbub.
Katherine paused for just a heartbeat. “Sure.” As she dragged the rocker closer to the bed, she wondered if he realized how revealing his request was. Her strong, silent mountain man was beginning to enjoy having company.
Because she didn’t want to buy trouble, she positioned the rocker so that she was on an angle from Zeke’s direct view. She knew the sight of her nursing Amanda aroused him, so she’d keep herself out of sight as much as possible.
Sitting down in the rocker, she worked at the buttons of her shirt. The wet bandage really was more clumsy than a dry one, and Amanda’s squirming and crying didn’t make things any easier.
“If you’ll come over here, I’ll unbutton that,” Zeke said.
Oh, no, you don’t. If he unfastened those buttons, she’d become just as aroused as he was by the process. “Thanks, but I’ve got it now.” With a sigh of relief she gave her breast to Amanda and silence settl
ed over the cabin.
“You can’t blame her,” Zeke said. “She started getting hungry back on the trail. She’s had to wait a long time.”
“I don’t blame her.” Katherine leaned her head against the back of the chair and rocked slowly while she listened to the rain. Nursing Amanda was one of the most satisfying experiences of her life, and it frustrated her almost as much as the baby when she couldn’t do it on schedule.
This recent crying jag was about as bad as it ever got. Amanda had suffered no bouts with colic or unexplained illnesses. When the two of them were free to do their thing, the baby was a joy to care for. The pregnancy had been difficult, but the doctors had assured Katherine she didn’t have to worry that she’d always have difficult pregnancies. The next one would probably be a breeze, they’d said.
Except there wouldn’t be a next one. If all her children could be this wonderful, Katherine was a little sorry she wouldn’t have any more. Although she hadn’t admitted the fact to Zeke, she didn’t want to have another man’s child any more than he wanted her to.
Then she remembered Zeke’s comment that if Amanda had a brother or sister, he wanted to be the one to father the baby. A thrill of awareness ran through her at the thought that Zeke would entertain such an idea. Of course it was crazy and she’d never follow through with it, but making a child with Zeke had been an outstanding experience.
She glanced over at him. He was watching her, a glow in his dark eyes that almost made her believe he could read her mind. Silence could be erotic, she realized, especially when it was filled with soft sucking sounds from the baby she and Zeke had created. She’d better start making some conversation, as Zeke had originally requested.
“So why do you think Amanda’s temperament is all your doing?” she asked.
“Simple. It’s her Sioux blood.”
“And Sioux babies are all even-tempered? Come on, Zeke.”
“I don’t mean Sioux babies in particular. Traditionally, Native American babies had to be quiet and well-behaved. During warfare between the tribes or against the white man, a crying baby could alert the enemy.”
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