by Debra Cowan
“Staying in the clinic isn’t the best idea.” Why did she have to be so hard-headed about everything?
She ignored him, looking at Jericho. “If those outlaws needed medical attention and were nearby, wouldn’t they have already stopped in if they were so inclined?”
“Possibly,” the former Ranger answered. “It’s hard to know.”
Matt braced his hands on his hips. “You would only need to stay at the hotel until they’re caught, Annalise. The three of us will head out shortly to see if we can find them or figure out where they’re going. You shouldn’t stay here alone.”
Her green eyes flashed. “The sheriff lives right behind me.”
Matt spoke through clenched teeth. “The sheriff won’t be here tonight. He’ll be scouting for these SOBs. Please move to Russ’s hotel.”
“I’d still be at my clinic during the day. What’s to prevent them from coming then?”
Not one damn thing, he thought.
Davis Lee frowned at her. “Do you have a gun?”
“Yes, I had to carry one in Philadelphia when I went to unsavory areas.”
“If you aren’t already carrying it, you should start,” Jericho said.
She nodded. Matt was ready to chew nails. The woman frustrated the fire out of him. He’d tried wheedling and cajoling. Neither worked. He sure as hell knew she wouldn’t do it as a favor to him.
He fought to keep his voice level. “Annalise, please go to the hotel. If for no other reason than to…”
The stubborn slant to her jaw had his words trailing off. He knew that look and he was wasting his breath.
Davis Lee opened the door to leave. “We wanted you to be aware, Annalise. Keep your eyes open.”
“I will, and thank you. You too, Jericho.”
The former Ranger nodded. “Remember, Ef is nearby, too, if you should need anything.”
“All right.”
Matt followed the two men outside then stopped on the stoop and turned.
Before he could even open his mouth, she said, “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know that, you dad-blamed stubborn woman.” He wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her. “I was going to say watch your back.”
“I will.”
With one last look at her defiant expression, he muttered a curse and slammed his hat back on.
Short of slinging her over his shoulder and marching her to the hotel himself, there was nothing he could do. And yes, Ef was nearby, but how would that help if one of the outlaws managed to get inside Annalise’s clinic without being seen? At least at the hotel, the risk of being spotted was likely too great for the outlaws to sneak in there.
Agreeing to meet Davis Lee and Jericho in front of the Fontaine in fifteen minutes, Matt started across Main Street for the Whirlwind Hotel where he’d left his horse.
For once, he fumed, why couldn’t she do as he asked? Just the possibility of the rustlers being nearby had been enough for Matt to insist on escorting her to the Eight of Hearts Ranch earlier. Now that he knew the Landis brothers had been spotted outside Whirlwind, there was no way he was leaving her without some kind of protection.
Well, if she wouldn’t take more precautions, then he would do it for her.
His mind quickly went through a possible list of candidates who could keep an eye on her while he was gone. He planned to ask Ef to watch over her during the day, but there should be someone for after dark as well. The other choices he considered were either too young to stay up all night watching the clinic or weren’t good with a gun. Except one.
Matt stopped and turned, his gaze going to the newspaper office. It was dark. He hoped that meant Quentin was at home.
Just the thought of asking Prescott for anything had Matt’s back bowing, but there was no doubt in his mind that the other man would do whatever he could to protect Annalise.
Before pride won out, Matt angled across the street and strode past the newspaper office, the saloon, then cut behind the livery to Quentin’s modest white frame house. A light burned in the front window. Good.
Stepping onto the wide porch that stretched the width of the house, he knocked on the door. On the other side, the floor creaked, then the door opened. Quentin was still dressed in the white shirt and dark trousers he had worn to the wedding.
From his wheelchair, the sharp-featured man eyed him warily. “Baldwin.”
“Could I talk to you for a minute?”
The man hesitated.
“It’s about Annalise.”
“Because she went to the wedding with me?” Quentin asked flatly.
Matt didn’t like the thought that there might be more between Annalise and the newspaperman than friendship, but that wasn’t what mattered right now. “No.”
“All right.” His sun-burnished features softening somewhat, Quentin rolled his wheelchair back so Matt could walk inside and close the door.
The other man gestured toward the small parlor off to the side. “Do you want to sit?”
“No, thanks.”
“What’s this about then?” Prescott rested his elbows on the chair arms, his dark eyes shrewd and speculative.
Matt explained about the Landis brothers being spotted nearby. All he had to do was mention the McDougals for Quentin to understand Matt’s concern.
When Prescott heard that Annalise refused to go to the hotel, he nodded. “What do you need me to do?”
“Watch her place tonight. Maybe more than tonight.”
“What if they show up and give her trouble?” Quentin glanced at his crippled legs and a flush spread over the man’s neck. “Will I be more of a hindrance than a help?”
The fact that the man was putting aside his pride to ask showed how fond he was of Annalise. Just how deep did those feelings go? Matt wondered.
He nodded toward the Spencer rifle standing in the corner. “You used to be a real good shot. Are you still?”
“Yes. I have to protect myself so I stay in practice,” the man said stiffly.
“That’s good enough for me. If there’s trouble, you fire two shots in rapid succession, just like any of us do when we need help. Whoever is here will come.”
“All right.”
“There are several of us going out to scout. Depending on what we find, I might be back tomorrow. It could be longer.”
Quentin stroked his thin mustache. “Does Annalise know about this?”
Matt shook his head.
“She wouldn’t like it.”
“Why do you think I didn’t tell her?” he asked with a rueful grin that got a smile out of the other man. “I’m riding out now.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”
The possessiveness in the other man’s voice didn’t sit well with Matt, but he forced himself to look past that. He might not trust Quentin to have his back, but he had no doubt the man would watch out for Annalise.
After shaking Prescott’s hand, Matt returned to the Whirlwind Hotel and retrieved Dove. He swung into the saddle, staring for a moment at the clinic.
The downstairs was dark, but a light shone upstairs. She wouldn’t be glad to see him again. He should ride on, but even as he thought it, he guided his mare to the building and dismounted.
He knocked on the front door, knowing she would answer in case the visitor was someone who needed help.
After a few seconds, he heard the tap of shoes on the wooden floor and the door opened.
She was still wearing her moss-green evening dress, drawing Matt’s gaze to the velvety swells of her breasts where he’d had his mouth earlier tonight.
Upon seeing him, she exhaled loudly. “I’m not moving into the hotel.”
“I just stopped to say be careful. Please.”
She blinked. “Oh. All right.”
Lantern light glided over her mahogany hair, skimmed the graceful curve of her neck. He curled his hands against the urge to brush his fingers down the same path. To press his thumb to the wildly beating pulse i
n the hollow of her throat, feel the powder-fine texture of her skin. “All right then.”
He remounted and raised a hand in goodbye. She did the same. Just as he urged Dove into motion, Annalise spoke.
“Matt?”
He reined up, looking over to see her put one small slippered foot over the threshold, standing half in and half out of her house. Her arms were wrapped around her middle, moonlight polishing her skin to a pearly sheen. In the shadows, her eyes glittered like dark gems. “You be careful, too.”
Something big and hot unfolded in his chest. There was real concern in her eyes, something more than a doctor’s concern.
He gave her a slow grin and winked. “You bet.”
As he kicked Dove into a canter, he heard her door shut. For the first time since her return, she had looked at Matt without censure or disdain. Just as she had earlier that evening after he had kissed her.
When he had followed her and Quentin back to Whirlwind, Matt hadn’t thought further ahead than finding her and having his say. But now he knew what he wanted. Her. Them. He just had to figure out how to get her to want it, too.
Chapter Eight
Ever since their return from the Eight of Hearts Ranch, Annalise’s emotions had been swept this way and that. Matt admired her for her doctoring skills? He now believed she had told the truth about being unaware of her pregnancy when she’d left Whirlwind?
She had been turning his words over in her mind. They weren’t the only thing that had her topsy-turvy.
The past two nights, she had noticed Quentin across the way, watching. At first, she hadn’t realized he was observing the clinic specifically so she hadn’t given it a second thought, but when she became aware that his attention was trained only on her, Annalise sought him out.
She had asked Quentin what he was up to and he explained that he was watching out for her at Matt’s request.
Her former betrothed obviously felt more strongly about the threat of the Landis brothers than she had understood. Than she had wanted to understand, she admitted. The sense of responsibility he felt toward her chafed. She had gone years without his attention, but how could she take exception to Matt’s arrangement with Quentin? He was only concerned for her safety.
The Matt she used to know would never have spoken to, much less asked for help from, a man whom he and most of the town disliked.
Just when she thought she knew up from down, he went and did this.
About an hour after lunch, she took a lamp and went to the back of the house and down into the cellar. Her medical textbooks were stored in the dry, dusty space along with a box of her father’s things, including the silver pocket watch he had intended her to give Matt after they were married.
She’d forgotten about that and thinking about it now she was swept with a fresh sense of loss over her father and what could’ve been with Matt. Pushing the thought aside, she reflected on her father’s friendship with J.T. Baldwin, who was the reason she had come down here to start with.
After her arrival in Whirlwind, Davis Lee and Riley had helped her unload her belongings, storing the crates containing the majority of her medical textbooks down here. None of the crates on the floor along the wall held her surgical or anatomy textbooks. With a grimace, she eyed the two wooden boxes sitting atop a high shelf that ran the length of the wall.
Of course the books she needed would be in one of those two crates.
Pulling the wooden ladder from the corner, she leaned it against the wall and climbed up. She reached for the first box and tentatively tested its weight. Heavy, but not too heavy for her to move. If she balanced just right, she could manage.
After carefully lifting the crate, she slowly made her way down the ladder. Once on the floor, she pried the lid off, but didn’t find the books she sought.
She positioned the ladder closer to the remaining crate and climbed up again. She wanted as much information on J.T.’s condition as possible; she also needed to make sure she had done everything she could for Mr. Julius’s young guest.
The lamplight flickered as she moved, stretching her shadow across the wall. She wiped her grimy hands on her skirt then dragged an arm across her sweat-dampened forehead. She cautiously pulled the second crate toward her then lifted it into her arms, making sure she had her balance before starting down the ladder.
Three rungs from the bottom, the base of the crate gave. She caught at it and the abrupt motion jarred the ladder. Unable to grab for support, she fell.
She cried out, wood splintering and cracking as she landed on her back. Her head hit the dirt floor and her vision went black for several seconds.
“Annalise! Talk to me!”
Fuzzy-headed, she came to. Had she heard Matt? She opened her eyes and found him leaning over her.
In the dusky light, she could see the alarm on his face.
“Can you hear me? Talk to me.”
She lay there winded and trying to breathe. “Just…a…minute.”
As he lightly brushed pieces of wood from her skirts, she mentally catalogued her injuries. Her right shoulder and the back of her head throbbed. She would have bruises and a knot on her head, but no bones were broken.
Finally able to get a full breath, she started to sit up.
“Wait,” Matt ordered impatiently. He slipped one strong arm beneath her shoulders and she gripped his other one, bringing it across her torso to help lever herself up.
A sharp ache pierced her skull. Drawing in a shaky breath, her fingers tightened on his rock-hard forearm. “I think I can stand now.”
“I don’t know.” He looked her over critically.
“Nothing’s broken.” Her nausea was already passing. “There’s a bump on my head and I’ll probably have a bruised shoulder.”
Still looking uncertain, he slowly got to his feet, helping her as well. Her head felt as if it were being split open.
“Ah, there,” she said, satisfied at her progress. “See.”
She promptly swayed and would’ve fallen if Matt hadn’t still been holding on to her.
“Whoa.” He carefully lifted her into his arms.
“Oh!” She clutched his shirt, inhaling his warm masculine scent. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you out of here. You need to lie down for a minute.”
“You don’t need to carry me. The dizziness is passing.” Even as she spoke, a wave of skull-crushing pain had her squeezing her eyes shut.
He just held her closer and walked up the cellar stairs.
“Matt, really. You don’t need to carry me. I’m sure I can make it on my own.”
He snorted. “You can’t even stand up.”
“I can now. I think,” she said faintly. “I certainly don’t expect you to carry me.”
“Well, this is your lucky day. I’m totin’ all crazy women without being asked.”
He cradled her against his chest. To avoid her arms bending at an awkward angle, she slid them loosely around his shoulders.
Nausea rushed through her and she turned her face into him, trying to stop the world from spinning.
Cushioned against his broad hard chest, she felt his arms warm and solid around her. The scent of man and leather slid into her lungs. Her nose brushed the strip of skin on his neck where whiskers gave way to smooth skin and his breathing hitched slightly.
She let her head rest on his shoulder. His steps were steady and sure as he carried her into the front room then back into her exam room.
He carefully laid her on the narrow cot, nuzzling her cheek before letting go of her and easing down onto the side of the bed.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Blue eyes dark with concern, he gently brushed her hair from her face.
She found herself wanting to do the same to his coffee-dark hair. “No. I’m really fine. I was just dizzy for a moment.”
She raised up on one elbow and he laid a hand on her shoulder, barely using any pressure but firmly keeping her in place. “You need to stay still until
the inside of your head stops pounding. You’re pale as milk, too.”
At the moment, she didn’t have the energy to prove him wrong so she eased back onto the pillow. “What are you doing here?”
He looked slightly reassured. “Rescuing crazy women from ladders.”
She smiled then winced at the throb in her head.
His gaze ran over every inch of her green-and-blue calico dress to the tips of her boots then returned to her face. “I just got back from scouting for the Landis brothers and I came to tell you we lost them again. We picked up their trail between Julius’s ranch and Fort Greer.”
“So they headed west?”
“For a bit, then they turned back this way. It’s the damnedest thing.” Bracing his hands on either side of her, he leaned over, gaze narrowed thoughtfully on her face. “We tracked their mounts another couple of miles, then lost them. They were there, then gone. Just disappeared. We couldn’t even pick up their horses’ tracks, only the hoofprints of cattle.”
Repressing a little shiver at his news, she said quietly, “I can sit up now.”
Matt slid one steadying hand under her elbow, his work-roughened palm gentle on her softer skin as he helped her.
“Those outlaws never showed up here.”
“Good,” he said.
Just as she started to tell him she knew about his arrangement with Quentin, she spotted something behind him in a wedge of sunlight on the wooden floor. It looked like…flowers? “Where did those come from?”
He glanced over his shoulder, then rose to go over and pick them up.
Bluebonnets, Annalise realized as he walked toward her.
“I picked them for you.” He curled her hand around the bunch of stems as she admired the purplish-blue blooms. “At the time, I didn’t know they would turn out to be a get-better bouquet.”
He had brought her flowers. She searched his face, intense and sober. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
“Glad you like them,” he said gruffly.
Her chest tightened. Gestures like this chipped away at the wall she’d built against him. “You shouldn’t have.”