by Ana Leigh
“Good Lord! Why didn’t you stop him?”
“We did try,” Sam said. “But he didn’t listen to us. You know how he loves animals. He thinks it’s a cat.”
Cassie raced to the woodpile just as Petey caught up to the skunk.
“No, Petey,” she yelled.
Petey giggled with delight. “Look, Cassie, a kitty cat.”
“Petey, get away from it,” she cried, but the warning came too late. The skunk stopped and lifted its tail.
“No!” Cassie ran up and pushed Petey away just as the skunk released its spray, and the stream hit her lower leg.
Sam and Bowie were jumping around, groaning and holding their noses. The stench made Cassie feel like gagging.
“I have to get out of these clothes. Bowie and Petey, get into the house, and stay there until I tell you to come out. Sam, I need your help. Start heating as many kettles of water as you can. I can’t go inside, or the house will smell as bad as I do.”
She ran into the barn, found a rain barrel, and poured several buckets of water from the well into it. Then she sat down and removed her boots and pants. The spray had soaked through the pants on the right leg and soiled the bloomer leg, too. Cassie pulled them off and climbed into the barrel. By this time, the air reeked with the smell of skunk. Unable to bear it another minute, she untied the kerchief from around her neck and plugged her nose with the loose ends of it, then removed her shirt and chemise.
Sam came running out, holding her nose. “The water’ll soon be hot, Cassie.”
“Don’t get it too hot, Sam. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”
“It still stinks something fierce, Cassie.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Sam, but you’re going to have to bring me the bar of kitchen soap, and the box of baking soda and bottle of vinegar from the cupboard. Oh, and a washcloth and several towels.”
Sam raced back to the house and returned within minutes with the items. “Cassie, the water is starting to bubble.”
“That’s good enough. Just be careful, dear. Do you think you can carry it out without burning yourself?”
“I’ll have Bowie help me. We’re used to carrying bath water at the hotel.”
“Wonderful. Have him help you; I’ll crouch down when he comes. Once a kettle is empty, fill it again and set it to boiling. I’ll have to change this water several times before I get the smell off me.”
Hoping to neutralize the skunk smell, she poured some of the baking soda and vinegar into the water. Then she worked up a good lather with the bar of soap and began to scrub her leg.
Sam and Bowie, looking like bandits with their kerchiefs tied across their noses, toted out the hot kettle. Cassie sank down shoulder deep into the water as the two children poured the hot water into the barrel. Then they ran back to the house for another kettle.
Over the next hour, Cassie dumped out the polluted water and refilled the barrel two more times to make certain she had rinsed the odor off her body, but it was difficult to determine if she’d succeeded, because the air was still heavy with the smell.
Sam had brought the washtub out of the house and was soaking Cassie’s boots and clothing in a mixture of hot water, soap, vinegar, and baking soda.
“The well’s gonna dry up if we keep hauling water,” Bowie grumbled as he and Sam made their twelfth trip to the barn with a hot kettle.
“You just shut up, Bowie James. If it weren’t for your brother, Cassie wouldn’t be in this fix.”
“Well, this is worse than hauling bath water the first Saturday of the month, when the cowboys come to town and take their monthly bath.”
They were leaving the house with yet another kettle when Colt rode up and dismounted. “What’s going on?” he asked when he saw them toting the heavy kettle. “You kids set the barn on fire?”
“We ain’t got time to talk, Deputy,” Bowie replied.
Colt watched them rush into the barn and looked up to see Petey standing at the front door, looking woeful.
“Hi, pal. Where’s Cassie?”
Petey pointed to the barn. “I have to stay inside.”
“Why? What did you do?”
The boy’s chin began to quiver. “It was my fault the kitty cat hurt her.”
“Kitty cat?” Had a rabid cat bitten her? Colt ran to the barn and drew up sharply when he smelled the pungent odor of skunk. A quick glance at Cassie’s clothes and boots soaking in a nearby tub told him all he had to know. He tied his kerchief over his nose and continued on. Sam and Bowie rushed past him and ran back to the house.
Colt peeked cautiously inside. Cassie was sitting in a rain barrel, scrubbing her leg, which was hanging over the rim.
At the sight of him, she quickly pulled back her leg and slouched down in the water until only her head was visible.
“Get out of here!”
“Do you have a problem, Miss Braden?”
“What does it smell like?”
He couldn’t help chuckling. “I would have thought you’d have known better. Good Lord, Cassie, anyone can smell a skunk before they see it.”
“Tell that to a four-year-old.”
“Petey? He looks none the worse. What—” He suddenly stopped as the pieces fell into place. “You took the bullet for him.” He snapped to attention and saluted. “I’ve seen less courage on a battlefield receive a medal.”
“I’m glad this amuses you, Deputy Fraser.”
“Permission to approach and pin your medal on you, madam.”
“Don’t you dare come any closer, Colt Fraser,” she warned when he took a step.
“Can I be of service? Wash your back? Assist you out of the barrel? Dry you off? I’m willing to suffer the odor to come to your aid, Miss Braden.”
“No thank you, Mr. Fraser. One skunk a day is all I can tolerate, so please take yourself out of here. Your humor is stinking up the barn.”
“What have you been using to kill the odor?”
“Soap, vinegar, and baking soda.”
“I think I know something else that might help.”
“If you’re going to suggest tomatoes, you can save your breath. We don’t have any.”
“Our mother used to soak us in vanilla. Do you have some?”
“I would think we do; Cathy is always baking something.”
“I’ll take a look. And I recommend you change the vinegar water. Maybe the vanilla will help sweeten you up a bit.”
The bar of soap bounced off his back as he left the barn.
The addition of vanilla seemed to work the magic Colt had indicated, but after Cassie pulled on dry underclothes and the fleecy robe Sam had brought her, she headed for the river.
“What are you going to do?” Sam asked as the children followed Cassie.
“Make sure all the skunk smell is off of me, now that we’re in clear air. You children turn your heads.”
She removed the robe and waded into the water in her underclothes, where she relaxed and stretched out with relief. It was considerably more comfortable than a rain barrel.
The three children remained, watching her intently.
“Be careful,” Sam warned. “That river’s got a strong current.”
“Yeah, you washed off enough,” Bowie added. “Now you should come out.”
“Yeah, come out,” Petey agreed.
Treading water, Cassie glanced at their concerned faces. “It wouldn’t hurt for you children to do the same. You’ve probably picked up some of that skunk odor on your clothes. Just take off your shoes and come in.”
“We already went swimming,” Sam said. “How long are you staying in there?”
“Just a few more minutes.”
Sam frowned. “Well, don’t be too long.” The children returned to the house.
Smiling, Cassie closed her eyes and lazed back in the water. She loved those three as if they were hers, and hoped that one day she and Ted would have children of their own.
After several more minutes she started to shiver, so sh
e got out of the water, dried herself off hurriedly, and put on the warm robe.
“Oh-h-h I’m freezing,” she murmured as she wrapped up her dripping hair in the towel.
Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back against a very warm, solid body.
“Does this help?” Colt asked, enclosing her in his arms.
It helped, all right! The heat of his body was a delicious warmth and excitement. But propriety demanded she offer a protest. “Colt! You scared me. Let me go.”
To her relief, he ignored her protestations. Instead, his breath brushed her cheek with a tantalizing warmth as he whispered, “If you keep jumping into cold water, that gorgeous body of yours is going to shrivel up like a prune. But have no fear. Though shriveled in limb and face, it’s a body I yearn to embrace.”
She groaned aloud. “That’s such bad poetry.”
“What do you expect on such short notice? I’m quite adept at other skills, though. Would you like a demonstration?”
To her regret, he released her, but then he began to dry her hair vigorously. “Now the arms and legs, please. The friction will warm you,” he said, with a devilish glint in those dark eyes.
If she got any warmer, she’d burst into flames. “Not on your life, Fraser. How did you know where to find me?”
“The sprouts told me.” Tossing aside the towel, he sat down and started to pull off his boots. “Actually, I intended to take a swim myself. I thought I’d try to work out some of the stiffness in my shoulder.”
“How badly does it pain you?”
“More than usual.”
“Be careful, Colt, or you’ll get that wound bleeding again.”
“The cold water will prevent that.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to your healing.”
“Don’t leave, Cassie. I enjoy your company. Stay. Please.”
Her common sense told her it would be a mistake, but, confused by an overpowering desire to be with him, she ignored the warning and sat down, hugging her knees to her chin.
She had seen the strength and power of his tall, muscular body previously, and prepared herself for the sight of his beautifully proportioned physique when he removed his shirt. He was stunningly virile, the width and brawn of his shoulders and chest tapering down to a slim waist and narrow hips. Silky dark hair coated his powerfully muscular arms.
Shifting her eyes to the patch of dark hair on his chest, she felt her heartbeat quicken as she followed the narrow trail down the flat plane of his stomach to where it disappeared into his jeans.
Mesmerized, she watched his every move as he settled down in the water and closed his eyes.
“Cold, isn’t it?”
“It makes that bathtub at the hotel very appealing, but my arm needs a workout.”
In a short time, he left the water and quickly donned his shirt. “Arm feels better already,” he said, settling beside her and drying his hair with the wet towel.
“Sitting here in wet pants isn’t going to help your arm.”
“I’m used to it; crossed more than my share of waist-high rivers during the war. You’d have been wiser to pull off those wet underclothes you have on.”
She looked askance at him. “How long were you watching while I was in the river?”
He chuckled. “Long enough—but not long enough.”
“You’re a scoundrel, Colt Fraser.”
With an amused grin, he began to recite,
“There once was a girl named Cassie,
As beautiful as she was sassy.
When approached by Colt, she’d tend to bolt,
With a comment as brittle as brassy.”
“Colt, you have many capabilities, but trust me, poetry isn’t one of them.”
“It’s not meant to be poetry, Miz Braden, just a simple little rhyme.”
“More like simple minded,” she quipped. “Tell me, Captain Fraser, is that something you learned at the military academy?”
“No, my lieutenant, Whythe Henry, and I used to make them up during the war during the lulls in battle. It helped to preserve our sanity. Do you have any idea how many words you can rhyme with ‘damn Yankee’?”
“I don’t think it succeeded, because you’re insane.”
“You’re right about Whythe; he went into politics after the war.”
“Thank goodness it wasn’t pursuing a career as a poet.”
They sat enjoying the sunshine, more comfortable together than she could have imagined.
“Okay, I’ll try again,” he said. “How’s this one?”
“There once was a knight named Fraser,
Who yearned for the fair maiden Cass.
Despite his noble try, Casandra played shy—”
Cassie raised a hand and interjected, “Because the Fraser…didn’t even faze her.”
“I ought to throw you back in that water,” he declared indignantly. “I was about to say, So he gave up on the coldhearted lass.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.” Giggling, she scrambled to her feet and grabbed the towel.
Colt gathered up his stockings and boots and hurried after her. “ ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’”
“And methinks, the man spends too much time thinking about something that will never happen.”
She didn’t like the confident gleam in his eyes.
When they reached the house, Cassie insisted upon taking a final hot bath in the privacy of the bathroom.
Colt took over the water duties from the exhausted children, who had fallen asleep in front of the fireplace. He heated water, then filled the tub for her.
After washing her hair with shampoo and more vanilla, Cassie leaned back and rested her head on the brim of the tub, lazing in the luxury of the warm, lavender-scented water until it cooled.
As she drained the tub, she thought of how sturdily Sam and Bowie had come to her aid earlier, and of how she would show her gratitude. In a way, she was also beholden to Colt, who’d been a big help at the end.
Drying herself and dressing in clean clothing, Cassie pulled on an old pair of boots she had dug out of the closet. When she entered the room, the children were still asleep on the rug in front of the fireplace. Colt was in the kitchen and had just finished putting away the kettles.
“I thought you could use this,” he said, entering and handing her a cup of coffee.
“Thank you. The poor children are exhausted. I don’t know what I’d have done if they hadn’t been here.”
“Most likely have avoided the encounter with the skunk.”
“Do I still smell of it?”
He came over and leaned closer, and she felt a sudden surge of excitement. For a long moment his gaze held, then he lowered his head. His warm breath caressed her neck as he drew a deep breath. When he finally raised his head, she sighed with relief.
“You smell of lavender and vanilla, Miz Braden. Good enough to eat.”
“Thank you for everything, Colt. You’ve been such a help.”
She went over to a cabinet and took out a roll of bandage.
“Let me change that dressing on your shoulder. A soiled bandage isn’t going to do it any good.”
His nearness was seductive, and she deliberately avoided looking at him. Aching to run a hand across his bronzed, brawny chest, she tried to keep her fingers from trembling as she pressed the gauze to the wound.
“There, that should do it. Looks like it’s healing well,” Cassie said when she finished.
“Thank you.”
Once again she felt his steady stare on her as she tended to his shoulder. She looked up into his hungry gaze.
“What?” she asked.
“Whenever I was hurt as a child, my mother always kissed it to make it well.”
“I’d try, but I’d hate to infect you with my germs.”
He grasped her arm and pulled her closer. “It’s the gesture that counts. A kiss to the lips will do just as well.”
At the
touch of his lips, she felt heady, spiraling passion, and forced herself to break the kiss and step away.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” she said.
“Didn’t you like it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Still avoiding eye contact, Cassie put away the supplies and hurried from the room. The man was too, too dangerous.
Retiring behind the closed door of her room, she sat down on her bed and suddenly felt drained. Laying back, she stretched out and closed her eyes. As much as she feared the secret thoughts he aroused in her, he made her feel feminine and desirable. She liked that feeling.
A short time later, Colt tapped lightly on her bedroom door. When there was no answer, he opened it and peeked in. Cassie was sound asleep, so he closed the door quietly behind him and went outside.
The skunk smell still hung heavily in the air and would probably remain for a couple of days. Colt washed Cassie’s soiled clothing and cleaned her boots, then placed the boots in the barn and hung the clothes on hooks.
When the sun began to set, he hitched her horse to the buckboard, tied Bullet to the back, then went inside and awakened the others.
Colt drove the buckboard back to town. His drowsy passengers had little to say. He dropped the children off at the hotel, Cassie at her house, and returned the horses and buckboard to the livery.
As he made his rounds of the town later that evening, he wondered why he had ridden out to that ranch. He couldn’t come up with an answer, but he was damn glad that he had.
Chapter 7
On Sunday morning Colt sat in front of the jailhouse, watching the many wagons roll in. Saturday had kept him busy with all the cowboys who’d come to town, so he hadn’t seen Cassie until this morning.
But he’d surely thought of her. He’d done nothing but think of her. When he caught sight of her and Cathy with several other women preparing to set up the social that would be held following the siesta hour, he remembered the feel of her soft, curvy body pressed against his at the river, and his groin started aching.
Forcing his thoughts away from her, Colt decided to make a final sweep of the town. When he reached the residential area, he saw the three sprouts clustered at the base of a tall oak tree. All three stared worriedly up into the branches.