by Carol Finch
He frowned contemplatively—which made his face hurt. He tried to recall the last thing he remembered. He had awakened after dark, suffering severe pain. He remembered hearing the crackle of the campfire. He’d been starving and hurting until hell wouldn’t have it—
“Nate?”
He pried open one eye to see a blurry face hovering over him. Something about the woman’s voice triggered an arousing memory. For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine why.
“Nate, can you hear me?”
Even though it hurt to think, he tried to remember what the doctor had called the woman traveling with him. He drew a blank.
“You’re still alive,” she reassured him as she draped a cool, wet cloth over his face.
“That’s a relief. I was hoping dead didn’t feel this bad.” He sighed gratefully when the cool cloth soothed the puffy heat in his face.
“After last night I wasn’t sure you were going to make it. You kept collapsing into a near-catatonic state. I kept trying to revive you.”
“Last night is still fuzzy and confusing,” he admitted. “All I know for sure is that I’m starving.”
“I can remedy that problem. What about your pain?”
“It’s still there—in spades.” He tried to lever into an upright position but it made him dizzy and light-headed so he eased down on the pallet.
The smell of biscuits wafted toward him and he sighed in hungry anticipation. When she held the fluffy biscuit to his lips, he took a bite and chewed carefully—in case his tender jaw protested. When he’d swallowed, she offered him a drink of water.
“Tasty,” he praised before she offered him a second bite.
“Thank you…I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the three men who attacked you.”
He was curious about the sudden change in the tone of her voice but he didn’t ask. “Sure. Fire away.”
“Did the men mention what they were doing in the area?”
“That’s a strange question. Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering what they were up to. Did they dress like cowboys from a Texas trail herd? Or drifters? I’m curious why they pounced on you, if you were simply minding your own business…as you claim.”
Nate munched on the biscuit, amazed that he kept noticing alternating inflections in her voice. He supposed being half-blind prompted his other senses to work overtime to compensate for his inability to see straight.
“I never saw the men before,” he replied honestly. Then he fudged a bit, refusing to divulge information about his real reason for traveling through Kansas. The less anyone knew about why he was in the area, the easier it was to make discreet inquiries. “I’m on my way to Dodge City to take a new job. I simply stopped for the night.”
“Why are you an ex-lawman rather than a practicing lawman? Were you fired, dismissed or voted out of office?”
She offered him another biscuit, dipped in gravy, to prevent him from taking offense to her straightforward interrogation. Usually he was grilling eyewitnesses and criminals for information, not the other way around.
Nate pulled the wet cloth from his face and tried to take a good look at her. He could tell she had dark hair and dark eyes—four of them. Her olive complexion made Lenora Havern, the socialite his father had earmarked for him, appear chalky and sickly in comparison.
“You sure ask a lot of questions…” He let his voice trail off, hoping she would fill in the blank that was her name. He couldn’t remember who she was, and she didn’t take the hint and prompt him.
“I’m curious by nature.” She replaced the wet cloth on his face. “I’ve heard of several lawmen who have gone bad and turned to crime. I was just wondering if you were one of them.”
“Anyone in particular that comes to mind?” he asked between bites.
“Henry Waggoner for one. Terrance Garfield for another. I could go on and on. So why don’t you wear a badge these days?”
“I had to leave so I could tend to my ailing father.” It was a half-truth—and it was his father’s life-threatening illness that turned out to be a manipulative, outright lie.
“Very commendable.”
He tried to smile but it was too painful. “I’m a commendable kind of man.”
She laughed. He really liked the sound of her laughter. “You’re a man, Mr. Montgomery. That’s one strike against you. Time will tell how commendable you are.”
“I’d give most anything to take a bath in the creek,” he remarked. “Do you suppose your doctor friend could help me?”
“I’m afraid Doc is a bit under the weather,” she said regretfully. “But I’ll help you as much as I can.”
“I’m, um, sorry about our awkward first encounter, Miss…or Mrs…?”
“I’ll assist you to the creek so you can bathe, provided you don’t bring up that incident again.”
“Agreed.” Nate propped himself on his elbow, then slowly came to his knees.
As promised, she steadied him when he wobbled on his feet. He could feel her shoulder lodging against the uninjured side of his rib cage to support him. He caught a whiff of the tantalizing scent of her and another jumbled memory skittered across his mind, then scattered before he could make sense of it.
“I forgot your name,” he said as he draped his arm over her shoulders.
“Rachel.”
“Rachel what?” He squinted at his bare feet to make sure he didn’t trip over an obstacle and cause himself even more agony than he was experiencing already.
“Just Rachel, and you ask too many questions, too, Mr. Ex-Lawman,” she countered saucily.
“I assure you that it’s a difficult habit to break.” He shifted his attention from his feet, hoping to get a better look at his secretive nursemaid. He nearly stumbled when his vision cleared momentarily and he got his first good look at Rachel Whoever-she-was. She was about five feet four inches tall, incredibly curvaceous and wholesome looking compared to frail-looking, helpless Lenora.
Nate surveyed her bewitching features and the shiny mane of curly raven hair that tumbled around her shoulders. The trim-fitting blouse and riding breeches accentuated her appealing curves and swells to their best advantage. She had an expressive mouth and inviting lips—
A fleeting memory flashed across his mind. Something about a shadowy tryst. His hands roaming over her lush, shapely body. Her hand brushing against his aroused flesh—
She halted in midstep. “Something wrong, Nate?” He stared at her again, but his vision clouded over, taking the puzzling memory with it. “No. I just need a breather. I’m sorry to say those three men beat the living hell out of me and I’ve lost my stamina.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me if those men beat up other people for a living, since they seem to be so good at it.”
Again, there was a slight inflection in her voice that made him curious. However, she urged him forward and he had to concentrate on keeping his balance.
“Careful now,” she insisted. “This is where the path descends downhill. Falling on your face would add insult to all your injuries.”
Rachel guided Nate down the creek bank and silently cursed herself for making the comment about Adolph’s henchmen being professional brutes. She had to remember to guard her tongue while she was talking to this former lawman. A man with a lawman’s mentality was the very last kind she wanted to associate with now. If her name was plastered on a Wanted poster in Dodge City—where he was headed to take a job—he would know exactly where to find her.
Nate huffed, puffed and cradled his arm against his tender ribs. “Damn, walking down here is zapping my energy. I don’t even want to think about walking uphill.”
“Before long you’ll be soaking away your aches and pains,” she encouraged.
She steeled herself against admiring his physique while she helped him remove his shirt. Despite her best intentions, her feminine gaze skimmed over the dark furring of hair on his masculine chest that trailed into the band of his breeches. She stare
d appreciatively at the sinewy muscles on his arms that flexed, then relaxed.
She stepped back before she impulsively reached out to trail her hand over the scar on his shoulder. “You’ll have to help yourself with your breeches.” Especially since she knew there was nothing but him beneath the garment.
He grinned rakishly. Or so she assumed. It was difficult to tell since his face and eyes were still swollen. “Saw enough of me already, did you?”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “You promised not to mention that. I might leave you here permanently, Mr. Montgomery, if you refuse to behave yourself.”
“Are you married to Doc Grant?” he asked out of the blue.
“Are you married?” she fired back. She was embarrassed enough about last night’s passionate tryst. She was going to feel even worse if he had a wife or fiancée.
“No.”
That was a gigantic relief. “Is it because of your nosy disposition and cranky temperament?” she teased playfully.
He smiled good-naturedly—or at least he tried. Only one side of his mouth turned up. “Yeah, that’s it…and I’m still waiting for you to answer my question.”
“No, I’m Doc’s part-time assistant nurse, a performer in the medicine show and sometimes his walking conscience that he tries to ignore.”
“Because of the drinking,” he guessed correctly.
“Yes. There are times when his demons catch up with him and he turns to the tonics he refuses to dispense to his patients,” she confided, though she wasn’t sure why. It must be because she was standing here admiring the muscled expanse of his chest instead of choosing her words carefully.
No doubt about it, Nate Montgomery could put a Greek god to shame, and looking at him while he was half-naked was very distracting. The thought of how he looked completely nude leaped to mind and she cursed herself soundly.
“What demons torment you into wandering around Kansas like a gypsy, Rachel?”
“Careful,” she admonished. “The lawman is coming out in you again.”
“I’m just curious.”
“That was the cat’s dying words, Mr. Montgomery.”
He chuckled softly. “And I become Mr. Montgomery when I get too personal, is that it? Sorry. Old habits die hard. You’re my guardian angel so it’s only natural that I would be interested in finding out more about you.”
He knew too much about her already, things no other man knew and that unsettled her. She had experienced forbidden pleasure with him. At least he didn’t recall that he’d had his hands all over her—and vice versa—after he consumed the sedative-turned-love-potion she had stuffed down his throat the previous night.
She fished a bar of soap from her pocket, then gave him the other set of stolen men’s clothing she had brought for him. As an afterthought she handed him the pistol she had confiscated from Adolph and had kept for her protection.
Nate arched a curious black brow as he tested the weight of the weapon she placed in his hand. “A pistol-packing female? Why am I not surprised?”
“Because it is a rough-and-tumble world and a woman has to defend herself.” She knew it for a fact because she’d done it for years. “Unarmed is unprepared, I always say. If you need help, just fire off a shot to signal me.”
She turned to leave but she halted when he said, “Rachel, one last thing before you go.”
“What’s the ‘one last thing’?” she asked.
“I keep thinking there is something about you that I should remember, but with this pounding headache—”
“Go soak your aching head,” she cut in quickly. “I’ll come to fetch you after I get Doc on his feet and cram food down his gullet.” And do me a favor and please don’t remember the love potion incident, she mused as she strode to camp.
Rachel stopped short and sighed in exasperation when she saw Doc on his hands and knees beneath the shade tree where he had collapsed the previous night.
“How did I wind up caring for two men when I know how much trouble they are?” she asked herself.
She strode forward, crossed her arms over her chest and gave Doc a disapproving stare.
“Don’t start,” he said hoarsely.
“I was going to comment on what a lovely morning it is.”
He glared at her with bloodshot eyes. “No, you weren’t.” He thrust up an arm, silently requesting that she assist him to his feet. “You covered me up and retrieved my pillow from the wagon last night.”
“Don’t I always?” She took his arm so he could climb to his feet. When he swayed, she hooked her arm around his waist. “Breakfast is ready and waiting.”
“Not hungry.”
“Too bad. You’re eating. Like it or not.”
“Coffee?”
“Piping hot.”
“You’re too good to me.”
“I know.”
Doc scrubbed his hand over his face, blinked a couple of times, then raked his fingers through blond hair that was sticking out in all directions. “Where’s Nate?”
“I assisted him to the creek so he could bathe.” She eyed him grimly. “I also had to mix a potion for him after you conked out because he awoke in severe pain.”
“Good for you,” said Doc as he shuffled up to the campfire.
“Not good for Nate,” she replied. “I thought I killed him. Whatever I added incorrectly, when mixing the ingredients, made him act strangely, then collapse like the newly dead.”
When Doc stared expectantly at her, she shrugged and refused to elaborate. While he sipped coffee and munched on biscuits, Rachel hiked off to the creek to wash the utensils. She made certain she was nowhere near Nate’s bathing site—for fear she’d get another eyeful of him. Once had been too much.
“Is that you, Rachel?” Nate called out.
“Yes. I’m rinsing the cooking utensils. Is everything going okay with you?”
“Soaking in the creek is working wonders. Except that I keep remembering something.”
Uh-oh. Rachel huffed out her breath. “Whatever it is, it isn’t important.”
“Yes, it is.”
She nearly leaped out of her skin and tumbled headfirst into the creek when his voice came from so close behind her. Blast it! He moved as silently as an Indian warrior. She ought to know. She had perfected the skill herself and had put it to good use on a number of occasions.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Rachel glanced over her shoulder to note that soaking in the creek had reduced the swelling in Nate’s puffy face. His azure-colored eyes were partially open and his auburn hair was damp. The rest of him strained against the ill-fitting clothes, calling attention to his abundance of brawn and muscle. Rachel gave herself a mental slap for picturing him naked—for the umpteenth time.
“I want to talk to you about what happened last night.” He moved closer, careful where he stepped since he was barefoot.
“I’d rather not. Besides, you promised—”
“—That was before I remembered what I did,” he interrupted.
Nate found himself staring at Rachel’s rounded rump, which was displayed enticingly in the formfitting riding breeches. A round rump that he recalled having his hands all over. Not to mention full breasts that he had fondled, and those Cupid’s-bow lips that he had kissed like a man starving for a taste of her. He couldn’t imagine what had gotten into him last night but the memory had exploded across his mind the instant his headache eased off. First, he had unintentionally exposed himself to this woman, then he had caressed her familiarly.
That’s gratitude for you, he chastised himself caustically. She’d saved his life and he’d treated her disrespectfully. It was a wonder she was speaking to him!
“I have to return to camp. Doc is awake and I need to pack up while he comes to the creek to bathe and sober up.”
Nate clutched her arm as she walked by. Although he still couldn’t see clearly, he noticed that she recoiled at his abrupt touch. He wondered if she had suffered through unpleasa
nt experiences with men before. Probably. Given how naturally alluring she was, Rachel attracted men without trying and they probably pestered her constantly.
“I apologize,” he said for starters.
“Apology accepted.”
She tried to worm loose but he kept a firm grip on her arm. “I must have been heavily sedated. I never would have tried to force myself on you. I wasn’t myself last night.”
Her dark head snapped up and her obsidian eyes glistened in the sunlight. “No? Why is that? Because I’m not your type? Except when no one else is around in the middle of nowhere? Not respectable enough to warrant your polite respect? Don’t think I haven’t heard that before. Men are such asses—”
“Whoa!” He grinned when she tried to pull away again and he held on tightly. “Calm down, hellcat. And do not try to put words in my mouth. I can speak for myself. All I meant was that I behaved badly. You saved my life and I repaid you by taking advantage of your compassion.” He smiled again, hoping to tease her back into good humor. “Unless you found me so appealing that you couldn’t resist my charm.”
“Don’t be absurd.” She thrust out her chin, but she stared at the air over his left shoulder so she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. “I would have slapped you silly but you suffered from too many injuries already.” She swatted the hand he had wrapped around her elbow. “Now, let me go before I have to hurt you.”
“Just one more thing.”
“You always seem to have ‘just one more thing,’ Montgomery. What is it this time?”
Nate didn’t know why he angled his head toward hers. Maybe it was because he’d wanted to retest his response to her after he remembered how familiar they had been with each other last night. Maybe it was because those lush, inviting lips made him hungry. Whatever the case, he touched his lips to hers experimentally. She stood like a statue, refusing to react.
“That’s not the way I remember our kiss,” he whispered as he brushed his mouth languidly over hers.