by Linda Ford
“’Kay.”
As she tucked him into bed, she wished she could sleep until Sam came home, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to and returned to her post at the window. “It will soon be dark,” she said after some time.
Gus snored in his chair.
Elin shivered. She felt just like she had when she was nine years old and the rest of her family had gone ahead. Only this time, instead of wild dogs, there were wild men and rustlers with guns.
Please bring him home safely, she murmured over and over.
Darkness descended. She couldn’t decide if she should light a lamp. It would guide unsavory characters to the house if any lingered nearby. But if Sam was injured and trying to find his way home…
Yes, she knew Sorry would likely find his way home in the dark, but nevertheless, she lit the lamp.
Desperate to hear him returning, she stepped outside and strained to hear any sound of a horse or man.
She strained so hard that she imagined the beat of her heart was the thump of horse hooves. But the sound persisted and soon grew into the clip clop of a horse. More than one horse. She drew back into the shadows but did not go indoors. If it wasn’t Sam, was it the rustlers? She regretted lighting the lamp. To open the door now would expose her to the approaching riders, so she stayed where she was, holding her breath as she waited for them to ride into sight.
She made out the shape of four horses passing the barn. But only three riders. That was strange. And then it hit her. A body would be strapped across the saddle. Her knees failed her and she sank to the ground.
The four horses stopped in front the house.
Three riders dismounted and went to the fourth horse.
Elin could not breathe. Could not think. Could not move.
“Come on, Sam. You’re home now.”
Two arms reached up and helped someone from the saddle. The figure landed on his feet and swayed.
“Steady there.”
She recognized Billy’s voice.
“I’m okay. Just a little dizzy.”
At Sam’s voice, she rushed forward, pushed past Billy, and wrapped her arms about Sam. “Oh Sam. I was so worried.”
Sam swayed.
She held him upright with Billy’s help. “You’re injured.”
“Not much.” His words were slow.
He was alive and home. That was all that mattered. “Help me get him to the house.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Billy assisted on Sam’s other side.
“We’ll take care of the horses,” one of the other riders said, and the two of them led the animals to the barn.
Gus came to his feet as the door crashed open. He took one look at Sam and vacated his chair. “Put him here.”
With help on either side, Sam made it to the armchair and sank down.
Elin looked at him. Blood covered his face and dried on his neck. “You’ve been shot.”
“Kind of.”
She gave a chuckle that threatened to turn into tears. “How bad is it?”
“Hurts some, but I’ll live.”
Elin forced her legs to move even though they felt like pieces of worn rope. She filled a basin with water and knelt by the chair. “I’ll get rid of this mess and see what’s happened.” Her touch gentle, her insides like pudding, she swabbed at the blood. Little by little she cleaned it up and discovered a furrow in his hair that continued to ooze.
While she worked, Sam closed his eyes. “Are you in pain?”
He opened his eyes.
He must have seen the worry and fear in her look for he caught her hand. “It’s not bad.”
She could drown in the inviting darkness of his gaze… If only she was alone with Sam.
Gus shuffled closer. “What happened?”
Billy gave them the details. “He was hopping mad and determined to catch the rustlers. So he sneaked down a draw and straight into a trap. I seen him go and knew it was dangerous so I followed him. Saw a man perched on the top of the bank just above Sam. Sam had stopped and started to poke his head up. I knew what was going to happen so I took a bead on the man. Got a shot off. But not quite soon enough.”
“If you hadn’t shot when you did, I’d be dead,” Sam said.
Elin’s limbs shook. Her stomach threatened to rid itself of her supper. She ducked her head and breathed slowly.
Sam’s hand rested on hers and she brought her gaze back to him. Her heart seemed to fill her chest so her lungs couldn’t work. Her eyes felt wide and she couldn’t blink.
Sam smiled at her then looked at Billy. “I owe you my life. Thanks.”
Billy waved aside the thanks. “I told ya. You have a reason to live, to get home. You take good care of him, ma’am. Me and the boys will catch a few hours’ sleep in the bunkhouse then get back to the cows.”
“Thanks again, Billy. I’ll come out when I can.”
“Boss, you take care of that head of yours. It’s the only one you got.”
Sam chuckled, but it ended on a grimace and he pressed his hand to the wound.
Elin forced her limbs to work and escorted Billy to the door. “Thank you for bringing him home in one piece.”
Billy smiled at her. “I know he’s in good hands.” He donned his hat and strode across the yard toward the bunkhouse.
Elin closed the door softly and returned to Sam’s side.
He brushed the books and papers off a low stool and pulled it to his knees. “Sit here.”
Elin sat and none too soon. Every nerve in her body vibrated. Her teeth chattered. Again, her stomach rebelled, but she swallowed back the urge to vomit.
Sam cupped her head. “Elin, I’m okay. It’s just a flesh wound.”
She couldn’t stop shaking.
“Gus, get her a blanket.”
Gus hurried away and returned to drape it about her shoulders.
“Thanks,” she managed. But she wasn’t cold.
Sam leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her. “Everything is okay.”
She pressed her face to his chest and clutched at his shoulders. “You could be dead.” The words ended on a sob. “Dead. And then what?” She couldn’t form another word as her sobbing intensified.
Gus shuffled his feet as if her crying made him nervous.
“God spared me,” Sam said. He held her tight.
She sucked in air and stifled her snuffling though her insides continued to weep. She released her hold on him and sat back, forcing him to remove his arms from around her. The loss tore at her self-control, but she drew in a steadying breath. “I’m sorry for making such a scene.”
Sam took her hand. “Not every day a man gets shot.”
“Better not be another day,” Gus growled. “My old ticker won’t take it.” He brought tea to both Elin and Sam.
She thanked him. So that’s what he was doing while she cried. She sipped the hot liquid, finding it soothing.
“Now that I know you’re alright, I’m going to bed,” Gus said.
Elin watched his bedroom door close behind him. She should follow his example and go to her room, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave Sam’s side. Instead, she cleaned his wound again. “I can’t believe you were that close to having your head blown off.” Anger filled her words. “Do you care so little about your life? About those who care about you?”
Sam caught her hand and drew her to his knees. She perched there.
“I care. I guess I thought I was smarter than the rustlers, but I’m not. Truth is, I was mad about losing the cattle. Just like you’re mad right now.”
The pleading note in his voice was her undoing. “Oh, Sam. I’m just so glad you’re okay.”
He pulled her to his chest and she lay in his arms. Safe. Cared for? She wasn’t about to bring any more emotions into the day.
“Thank you,” he said, after a moment of blissful peace.
“For what?”
“For being here. For caring.”
She turned her face toward his. Hundreds of wor
ds scattered through her brain. The majority of them forbidden. It was enough, for the moment, to simply be with him and accept his gratitude.
He lowered his head, his gaze on her mouth. She knew he meant to kiss her.
His eyes came to her, questioningly.
She smiled and reached toward him, claiming his lips with her own. The future carried no guarantees, but the present held contentment. She would settle for that. For now.
And what about later?
She ignored the question.
Sam leaned his head back against the chair. He hadn’t expected to be alive. When he woke up with Billy and a couple of other men leaning over him, he knew he had been offered a second chance.
Only he wasn’t sure what that meant.
He was glad to be home. To see Elin’s face and know she had worried about him. “How is Joey?” he asked, needing to know all his family was safe.
Family. Yes, the word fit perfectly. For the moment, he would not think that it would be temporary.
“He didn’t want to go to bed until you got home, but I told him he could sleep while he waited. And he agreed.”
They both chuckled at the innocence of the little boy.
After a bit, Sam sighed. He could stay here all night with Elin on his knee but she couldn’t be all that comfortable. They both needed sleep. “I think I’ll go to bed.”
She sprang up as if shot from a gun. “How selfish of me to keep you here when you should be resting.”
He caught her hand. “Elin, I stayed because I wanted to, not because you made me.”
Her smile wobbled. “If you say so.” She hovered as he got to his feet. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
He touched her cheek, thought about kissing her again. There’d been entirely too much kissing. He didn’t have the right. “I have my head and my ear. Billy says I might be missing a little hair. I’d say I was far better than okay.”
“Thank God.”
“I agree.” He thought of suggesting they sit at the table and read from their Bibles again, but his head ached. Standing made him realize how dizzy he was. “I’ll say good night.” He made it to his room, closed the door, and collapsed on the bed. The day had been a little more exciting than he would have wanted, but now that he was home safe and sound, he knew nothing but gratitude, and prayed his thanks before he fell asleep.
The next morning, when he wakened, he groaned at the pain in his head. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, examining the wound. He might have a bald streak when it healed but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t live with.
And grateful he had the option.
The smell of coffee drew him from his bedroom to the kitchen. Elin’s gaze held his, her eyes watchful, her lips pressed together.
“I’m fine,” he said.
Joey ran to him.
Sam lifted him into his arms even though the effort set off a thumping in his head. “How are you, boy?”
“I fine.” Joey studied the raw, red mark on the side of Sam’s head. “You hurt. I kiss it.” He stretched so he could plant a kiss on the side of Sam’s head.
Sam grinned. “Thanks. That helps a lot.” He sat Joey on his chair, chuckling at the pleased look on the boy’s face.
Elin put a cup of coffee before him.
Gus sat at his place across the table. “Sure hope you plan to take it easy today.”
“Huh. Why is that?”
“’Cause we don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Sam met Gus’s steady look then shifted his gaze to Elin. She, too, studied him as if wondering if he’d leave her. Funny how he was the one worried about others leaving but he’d been the one who almost left. “I’m staying put for the day. Billy and the others have things under control.” There was no point in trying to get his cows back at the risk of anyone getting shot.
“Good,” Gus said.
“Good,” Joey echoed.
Elin said nothing but her smile said far more than words could.
They took their time over breakfast. Afterwards Elin insisted he sit outside in the sun. “Rest.”
“Only if you keep me company.”
She hesitated so briefly he knew she didn’t mind. “Let me get the mending.” She brought out a chair and they sat side by side in companionable silence. Joey brought his collection of rocks to their side and played.
Family, Sam thought. He flinched.
“You’re in pain?” Elin asked.
“No. I’m fine.” The pain didn’t come from his head wound, but from the knowledge that this might be the only family he ever knew and he didn’t know how long it would last.
Elin told him stories about growing up in Norway and being in a large family.
“I know you found it lonely at times and felt like you didn’t matter,” he said. “But it could never be as lonely as growing up with no parents and no real home. Morty did his best, but his first thought was always his ranch and after that, Harry. I came in a distant third. Funny, I never realized it until right now. I’m not complaining. I had a good upbringing and learned how to ranch. It’s just…” Would she understand what he was trying to say? “I just never had family.”
“You could surely change that.” She kept her attention on the sock she darned. “But you’re afraid to take the chance.”
“Maybe. Though last night I thought how strange that I’m so afraid of losing those I care about and yet it was me that almost died. I’m not sure what that means.”
She studied him, her eyes bottomless. “Maybe it means life is uncertain. Best you take whatever happiness is handed your way.”
Her gaze searched his as if looking for something beyond the words they spoke. He wished he could offer more. “It’s a nice sounding idea.”
She might have pulled blinds behind her eyes at the way she closed herself off and returned to the mending.
He knew he had disappointed her, but what could he say?
By the next day he grew restless at the inactivity, but when he went to the barn to check on things, his head pounded. The headache drove him back to the house.
Elin looked at him. “Don’t bother telling me you feel fine. I can tell by looking at you that you don’t. Sit and rest.”
He didn’t argue, which he knew would confirm her suspicions. After an hour of sitting his headache abated. She had sat quietly beside him all the while, as if aware of his condition.
“It will take time,” she murmured, when she saw he felt better.
“I don’t have time.”
“Really? Are you saying Billy and the others can’t manage without you?”
His crooked smile likely informed her that she was far too close to the truth. “Maybe I don’t want them to discover how little they need me.”
She chuckled and turned toward the sound of an approaching horse. “Look, here comes one of them now.”
Sure enough, a cowboy rode in. “It’s Bart. Strange. Billy usually comes.” He jerked to his feet, ignoring the pounding in his head. “Something’s wrong.”
How much worse could things get?
Chapter 14
Bart reined in and jumped from his horse in one movement.
Sam’s concern grew.
“Boss, Billy sent me to tell you we found the cows.”
Sam’s breath whooshed out. “Good to hear.”
“You better hear it all, Boss. We were finally able to follow them without getting shot at. When we reached them some tough-looking hombres was guarding them. Billy said the cows looked like ours. A big guy said it wasn’t our brand. We had a good look. It was our brand with some alterations. Instead of H-S, it was H+8.”
“No!” Just as he’d told Harry. Guess he wasn’t the only who saw the opportunity.
“They threatened to shoot us if we interfered with their cows.” Bart snorted. “Said they was sold and they were driving them to their new home. They’s headed north.”
“I might have something to say about that.” Sam jerked to his feet, s
wayed as his head protested the sudden movement.
Bart leaped forward, but Sam sat down on his own. “Billy says not to come. The men were rough looking and heavily armed. He don’t want to be in a gun fight and didn’t figure you did either.”
Sam leaned over his knees, his forehead in his palms, and waited for the dizziness to pass.
Elin touched his arm. “Better some cows than some men,” she murmured.
Sam sat up. “You’re right, though I hate to lose the cows. I could send someone for the Marshal, but by the time he got here they would have the cows over the line into Canada.”
“Billy just wanted me to let you know.”
“Thanks. Tell him the men come first.”
“Will do.” Bart mounted up and rode away.
Sam groaned. “I worked hard for those cows.”
Elin rubbed his arm. “Sam, I’m sorry. It isn’t fair.”
He let her words and her touch ease his tension. “I guess if that’s the worst thing that happens to me, I should be grateful.”
“I am glad it’s only cows and not you.” Her eyes filled with warmth that made the loss of the cows seemed insignificant.
He moved little all day and gladly headed for bed as soon as Joey was tucked in. The next morning, his head barely hurt. “I’m feeling lots better,” he announced at the table.
“You better?” Joey asked.
“Sure am.” He ignored Gus’s warning look and smiled away the concern in Elin’s eyes.
“I hope you aren’t planning to ride out today,” she said, a stern note in her voice.
He pretended to be surprised by her words. “Why not? I’m all better.”
She put a cup of coffee before him and tapped the side of his head that was wounded. He flinched.
“Why’d you do that?”
“To remind you of your injury.”
Gus chuckled. “I see it don’t hurt you any.”
Sam gave a long-suffering sigh. “I suppose I could sit around and twiddle my thumbs another day.”
“If you’re really good I’ll make your favorite cake. What is it?”
“Chocolate.”
“Then you shall have a chocolate cake…if you’re good.”
Joey studied him. “You be good. I want chocolate cake.”