“As you can probably tell, I’m the youngest child. My parents were very loving and doting. My older brother was the scholar, my sister, Lydia, was the perfect daughter and then there was me. The baby. I loved animals; I was always bringing home strays. We had sharecroppers on part of our land. Choctaws. I would sneak through the woods and run around with them. They taught me how to track and hunt. My pa taught me how to shoot, my mother taught me about music and my school work. And Samuel taught me how to fish. Samuel was one of the strays I brought home,” Sabrina said, smiling sadly as she looked at Brock. He was listening intently, waiting for her to go on.
“Warren, my brother, was in Boston when I lost my family. I was sixteen when they died. Since I was the only one around, I had to make all of the arrangements for the funeral. I had to get the house rebuilt. It was a complete loss. Everything inside was gone. I stayed with Samuel and his mother until Warren came home. It took him four months to return. All that time, I was in charge of the ranch, the hands, the workers who were rebuilding the house. I didn’t have time to mourn or be sad; there was too much work to do. Moreover, I was doing what I loved. Then Warren appeared one day in his fancy suit. All worried about me.
“He wanted to sell the ranch and take me back to Boston with him so I could go to a real school: a boarding school where they would teach me to act like a lady, so I could meet some rich man to marry and Warren could wash his hands of me for good. “
Brock was frowning, thinking back to the reward poster. “Did he actually say that?”
“Well no, not the marrying part but the boarding school and selling the ranch was in his plans. He had already drawn up the papers. Nice having an attorney in the family. So he packed up what little I had and put me on a train for Boston. I hopped off at the first chance I got and caught the next train west. I didn’t have much money on me so Tulsey Town was as far as I could go. That was three years ago.”
“Does Warren even know you’re alive? He’s obviously worried if he’s offering that much money to find you.”
Sabrina snorted. “I sent a letter to my aunt in Boston telling her I was safe. I’m sure she informed him. Thanks to my brother, I have had every two-bit bounty hunter looking for me for years. That’s why I’ve been dressing like a boy…so Warren can’t find me. Also, it is much safer for a boy to be on his own than a woman.”
He nodded in agreement. “Ted Roberts: you recognized him. Was he a bounty hunter?”
Sabrina shivered. “No, he used to work for us. He used to watch me and ‘accidentally’ bump into me all the time. It was creepy. My dad finally let him go. I think he may have killed my family. Because of me.” She added the last so softly that Brock thought he may have misunderstood her. Her body shook with silent grief and he pulled her onto his lap. His heart wrenched for her. He wanted to be there to protect her from now on. He only wished he could protect her from her past. She was nineteen, about seven years younger than he. His parents were ten years apart. He shook his head. He was already contemplating spending the rest of his life with her.
He held her tightly in his arms until her sobs quieted. She let out a low sigh and he looked down at her. She was asleep. Shifting slightly, he lay down on the bed holding her close.
Sabrina slept fitfully. Even though Brock was close by, her dreams were filled with horror. Ted had cornered her in the barn and she couldn’t get out. She could see the flames licking about her and the light gave him a devilish glow. She had to choose death or him. The flames were getting closer and she could feel the searing heat. She was so hot. She could hear Ted calling her: Sabrina, Sabrina.
“Sabrina!”
Her eyes popped open, and she was surprised to see Brock’s anxious face above her. He had a wet rag in his hand and placed it on her forehead. It was getting her hair wet. Confused she reached up to try to push it away. He gently grasped her hand and held it.
“My hair’s wet,” she said dully, her mind still fuddled.
Brock smiled at that. “I’m sorry, you have a fever. I’m just trying to cool you down.”
A fever, she thought. Samuel had a bad fever and almost died. She had saved him. Her hand itched and she tried to scratch it with her other hand but realized that Brock was still holding it. She was awfully tired. She closed her eyes again.
She was back in the barn. The fire still raged but Ted was gone. Brock was with her. She looked up at him and he whispered to her…
“You’re gonna be okay.”
This time she felt wet all over. Brock was still by her side but he didn’t look like Brock. His hair was disheveled and he had beard stubble.
“Did you pour water on me? I’m wet.” She frowned as he chuckled.
“No, you’re sweating. Your fever broke.” He smiled at her as she lifted her good hand to feel his scratchy face.
“You look horrible,” she said.
Brock took her hand and kissed the palm. “Sorry, I haven’t gotten much sleep the past couple of days.”
“Days! I’ve been out for days?”
“Nearly scared me to death. Thomas has been by twice a day to check on you. You thirsty? Let me get you some water.”
He was again at her side and lifting her head up so she could drink out of the cup. She drank greedily. Her throat was dry and her hand still itched. She tried to scratch it but the bandage was in the way. She tried to sneak a finger under the bandage to itch her palm but Brock grabbed her hand, stopping her.
“It itches,” she protested.
“That’s because it’s healing. If you poke at it, you might get another infection.”
Sabrina frowned, not able to concentrate on anything else besides the itching. She turned to her side, realizing she was still in Brock’s bed. “Where have you been sleeping?”
Brock nodded to the chair next to the bed.
“Doesn’t look very comfortable. You should lie down and rest.” She tried to sit up but Brock wouldn’t let her.
“No, you need to rest.”
Sabrina scooted over toward the wall. “Why don’t you lie down with me? Then we can both rest.”
Brock hesitated for a second before climbing in next to her and pulling her into his arms. They both slept soundly until dawn.
Chapter 14
When Sabrina woke again, the sun was shining brightly. She looked around for Brock but did not see him. Sitting up, she still felt a little weak so she stood up very slowly. She was starving.
She stepped over to the table and noticed a plate of food laid out for her and a note. She read the note quickly. Brock had gone in to work and would be back later. She was “to rest.” Sitting at the table, she wolfed down the beef stew and corn bread Brock had left for her. It was barely warm but she didn’t care. Finishing her food she looked at herself and frowned. She needed a bath bad. She looked at her bandaged hand and contemplated her options. Should she take off the bandage and cleanse her hand too, or leave it on and try to wash with her good hand only.
She knew that Brock was concerned about getting it infected again. She decided to do her best with one hand. She glanced at the sheets on the bed. She wanted to wash them also. Knowing it would require two hands to tend to them properly, she pulled them off and took them outside to hang on the clothesline. At least they would be aired out properly. By the time she was finished wrestling with them she was a bit woozy. She was aghast at how much energy that simple task had sapped from her body. She needed clean clothes. Hers were up in the loft. She didn’t trust herself to climb up and down the ladder safely since she was still dizzy. Instead, she decided to pilfer through Brock’s things. She opened his chest and pulled out a clean shirt. She didn’t worry about bottoms since it would hang to her knees anyway. Satisfied, she grabbed the soap and a towel. She put everything into a basket to make it easier to carry.
She made her way to the creek. She slowly undressed, which was hard with one hand. Then she grabbed the soap and stepped into the water. The water was cold! Gritting her teeth, she was
hed her hair first and then everything on her body she could reach. With her teeth chattering, she stepped onto the bank and toweled off. Awkwardly wrapping the towel around her head, she put on Brock’s shirt. It was very difficult since she was still damp in some places and she couldn’t use the other hand much. Her bandage had gotten wet anyway but it could not be helped. Finally satisfied with the results, she tossed everything into the basket and headed back to the house.
She stopped on the edge of the clearing, glimpsing a horse outside she did not recognize. She panicked slightly, wondering who it could be. Great, she thought. I have no pants on. She undid her head wrap and pulled out the dirty pants she had on before she left the house. She took off one boot and tried to balance on the other as she held the pants with her good hand.
She may have pulled it off if she had not used up her strength by bathing. Nevertheless, she lost her balance and fell hard to the ground. She let out a shriek in surprise and pain as she tried to catch herself with her wounded hand. Biting her lip she held the aching hand to her chest as she froze. The door to the house flew open and Brock stepped out, his gaze sliding over the landscape in alarm.
Pondering if she should call him over for help or not, the choice was taken out of her hands as he spotted her form on the ground and ran over. She did not expect his reaction. He laughed.
“Are you okay?” Brock asked, looking down at her. She was covered from head to toe in dried leaves. He noticed she had one boot on and one off. Her one leg was bare except for a boot and she was wearing his shirt. He smiled again until he noticed she was clutching her hand. Her bad one.
He was about to scold her but noticed the tears welling up in her eyes. Instead he scooped her and all her belongings up in his arms and headed for the house. Sitting her on a chair he checked her injured hand.
“I told you to rest,” he said, kneeling in front of her so they were almost at eye level.
“I’m not a child. Don’t treat me like one,” she said angrily, using her bare foot to push against his chest, knocking him backwards onto the floor. She then kicked off the offending material. She would have been just fine except for the pants part. Feeling uneven, she kicked off her other boot as well and glared at him.
Brock sat up. He should have been very angry, but seeing her half naked in front of him turned his thoughts in a completely new direction. Sabrina held her breath as he moved closer to her. His eyes pierced into her soul. The air in the room had changed and she could feel the electricity. She felt a need come over her and, as if in a trance, she reached out, running her hands through his hair and pulling him closer to her.
Not sure how to proceed, she kissed him on the mouth. She was amazed at how soft his lips were when the rest of him was hard as stone. Enjoying the feeling of just having him close, she softly kissed him again, and again, and again.
Brock smirked at her inexperience. He held her head and gently stroked her cheek. Her mouth opened in a sigh and he melded his lips to hers as he sought out her tongue. Sabrina pushed him away, alarmed.
Cursing himself for moving too fast, his body ached and he needed release. He stood up and was surprised as Sabrina stood also. She grabbed his hand and gave him an impish grin.
“Heading to the outhouse?” she asked.
It was his turn to be shocked as she pulled his face back down to hers. This time he held still as she again kissed him. He opened his mouth so she could explore his. Her sweet tongue experimentally flickered over his lips and then, when more sure of herself, into his mouth. He moved his hands to her waist gently pulling her closer. One hand moved to her back and the other slid down to her bottom. He knew he was moving too fast but his brain had shut down. He was reacting only on feeling by this point. Sabrina continued to kiss him. She moved from his mouth to his cheeks, his eyes, even his ears. She started a trail of small kisses down his neck and Brock’s hand went lower as well. He grasped her buttock and pressed her into his groin. Sabrina hesitated as she gasped for breath. She felt lightheaded and dizzy, was this due to her illness or just her reaction to him? She felt his hand on her bum and, feeling mischievous, she grasped the shirt with her good hand and pulled it up so that his hand was now on her bare flesh. She watched his moment of shock as he glanced down at her and realized she was not wearing any under things. She giggled.
He bent his head down to kiss her again but froze as he heard a knock on the door. He cursed himself, letting go of her so quickly, she almost fell. He shooed her to the bed to cover up as he took a couple of deep breaths to compose himself. He adjusted his pants so they were a bit more comfortable and stepped to the door. He was angry with himself. He had dropped his guard; he should have heard the horse outside. Peering through the small crack, he recognized Thomas’ blonde hair. He frowned. The past couple of days he was thankful for his visits but, since she was well now, they were unwelcome. Unwillingly he opened the door.
“Hey Brock, I know that Will is feeling better; I just wanted to come by and do one last check.”
“Of course,” Brock said stepping away and scowling at his back. He watched as Thomas sat down on the bed next to Sabrina and chatted happily. Irritated he fingered his knife on his belt.
Sabrina tried not to laugh at Brock’s expression of resentment. She held her still-damp bandage up to Thomas and explained her mishap at the creek.
Thomas was not pleased with that. He gently removed the wet bandage and was relieved to find the skin had not reopened. Very gently, he removed the stitches as Sabrina watched. He told her she could keep the bandage off as long as she wasn’t cleaning out horse stables. He said it as a joke but sent Brock a warning glance as well. Was it her imagination, or did Thomas touch her more than was necessary?
However, when Thomas touched her head she was surprised. She felt nothing. Whenever Brock touched her anywhere, it always felt electric. Blushing as she thought of where Brock touched her today, she glanced over at him. He was still in the same spot watching her closely. They were both relieved a short time later when Thomas left. Sabrina stood at the window to make sure Thomas was gone. She again noticed the gleaming stallion outside. “So whose horse is that? Where’s Troy?”
Brock sighed; the earlier mood was obviously broken. “I thought you might like him. I was going to wait until you were well enough to go with me but I was afraid he’d be sold to someone else.”
“For me?” Sabrina said, hopping out of bed and hurrying outside. She had forgotten she was only wearing a shirt but Brock hadn’t forgotten. Grudgingly he followed her outside.
“He’s perfect,” she breathed as she gently talked to him. She carefully examined him from head to toe. “What’s his name?”
“Justice. But you can change it if you want to.”
Sabrina laughed in glee. “No, Justice is just right.” Using her good hand, she led him to the stable to remove his saddle. She desperately wanted to ride him but knew that she lacked the energy. That would be dangerous to both of them. Brock lifted off the saddle and she smiled at him gratefully.
He had been very quiet since their encounter. This made her feel uneasy. Did she go too far? She knew most women saved themselves for marriage. But she wasn’t most women. She knew that life could be awfully short and she’d made a pact with herself long ago to live life to the fullest. Turning to Brock she hugged him tightly, thanking him for the horse. Instead of turning her loose, he picked her up and carried her back to the house.
“You need to rest,” he lectured gently, placing her back on the bed. Her arms still around his neck, she pulled him down to her and kissed him deeply, showing him what a quick learner she was. He pulled away, chuckling at her eagerness. “Rest,” he said again, kissing her cheek. He stepped over to the stove to prepare supper. She intended on watching him cook but the pull of sleep soon won out.
Sensing someone running their fingers through her hair, she awoke. She smiled sleepily at Brock as he informed her that supper was ready. He had made chicken and dumplings so it would
be easy for her to eat. She sat up and accepted the plate gratefully. They ate in silence and again she wondered about his thoughts. After they ate he took care of the dishes and she went outside to gather up the sheets and covers she had hung out earlier. So much had happened since then. She thought of their shared kisses and knew she wanted more.
Carrying in the covers, she cautiously made the bed; it felt odd using her injured hand. It had been so long since she had used it, her fingers were stiff and slightly painful from the swelling, which had just started to subside. Finally finishing her task she turned to see Brock standing there, silently watching her.
“Um, I aired the covers out. I’ll give them a good wash as soon as I’m able.”
“It’ll be difficult climbing into the loft with your bad hand. Why don’t you take the bed and I’ll sleep in the loft?”
Disappointment settled over her like a pall. She did not give a heck where she slept as long as it was with him. Taking control of her own fate, she told him so.
“I don’t think I have that much restraint left,” Brock said, his eyes darkening with desire. He reluctantly turned away and took hold of the ladder. He heard a swooshing sound and turned to see his shirt on the floor and Sabrina under the blankets. His blankets. In his bed.
She watched as he again took hold of the rungs and started to climb slowly as if he was fighting an inner battle. The tears fell. She couldn’t help it. Ever since she had met Brock she was like one of those artesian wells that her mother used to tell her about. The water bubbled from below ground and cascaded down into a pool below. She had never cried so much in her entire life until she met him.
She blatantly offered herself to him and he didn’t want her. Well, of course he didn’t, I mean who wants someone so screwed up with problems she has to dress up as a boy to forget about them. Or another thought crossed her mind. Maybe he liked boys? No. He never kissed her until he found out she was a girl. And what a kiss it was. Sighing, she eventually fell into a fitful sleep.
The Stafford Collection, Historical Western Romances Page 12