Scarlett_The Settlers_Book Three
Page 8
He took the cloth off, rinsed it in the water, and set it on her leg again.
She could hardly catch her breath. “The pain is going to get worse before it gets better, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so. Are you sure about the laudanum? I wouldn’t judge you if you’d used it all.”
“I didn’t.”
He nodded. “I believe you.”
Olga came in and handed him a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He didn’t bother to thank her, and she quickly left.
“Don’t go far. I’m going to need someone to hold her down in a bit,” he yelled loud enough to be probably heard throughout the house. He splashed a bit of the dark amber liquid into a glass and put it on the table. Then he put a pillow under Scarlett’s head and handed her the glass. “Drink it down. It’ll help with the pain.”
She didn’t like the strong smell, and she wasn’t going to like the taste either, but she did as he bade and took a sip. “Oh! What are you trying to do to me? People willingly drink this?”
His lips twitched as though he was going to smile, but the smile never appeared. “It helps to swig it all down at once.”
She doubted it, but she drank it all down. It took all her concentration to keep it from coming back up. She groaned out loud when he poured more into the glass and handed it to her. “I don’t—I can’t—”
“Yes you can. There isn’t enough laudanum to take any pain away. Please? I can’t bear to know I’ll hurt you.” He stared into her eyes, and she nodded.
The second glass was as bad as the first, but it made her feel warm inside. She winced as he once again rinsed the cloth and reapplied it.
“I don’t think we’ll go to town today. Lou or Homer will be along to see where I am soon. They can handle the small things.”
She nodded and frowned when he gave her yet another bit of whiskey to drink. This time she downed it as fast as she could. Her body began to relax.
“How are you feeling?”
She smiled. “Quite unlike myself. Do what you have to, I’ll survive.”
Giving her a nod, he took the cloth and doused it in whiskey then held it down on her leg.
It burned so bad she tried to move out of his reach but he was so strong. Tears poured down her face as she cried out.
Both Olga and Elda stood in the doorway. Olga stepped forward and handed Dillon the knife.
He took it without looking at either of the women. “This is going to hurt.”
Scarlett swallowed hard and nodded.
“Olga, I need you to hold her down.”
“I don’t think I’m strong enough,” she replied coolly.
Dillon shook his head. “Then I need you both to help. Olga, hold down her shoulders. Elda, I need you to hold her leg still.” He waited until the women were in position.
Scarlett began to tremble, and beads of sweat formed on her forehead. She closed her eyes and made her hands into fists as she waited. The skin around the gash was already sore to begin with. She didn’t want to scream, but it would be impossible not to. Holding her breath, she waited for Dillon to start. Clenching her teeth, she tried to think of her parents and their ranch. But as soon as the first cut was made, the only thing she could think about was the pain. She screamed and she screamed loud.
Try as she might, she couldn’t move away. It seemed to go on forever. Surely, the gash wasn’t that long. Her breathing became labored and she hated both Olga and Elda for their lack of care. Why didn’t she just pass out like she’d seen others do?
“I’m almost done, Scarlett. You’re doing really well. Hold on for just a bit more.” Dillon’s vice soothed her a bit. Nodding, she bit her lip and ended up making it bleed as he finished.
He wiped the sweat off her forehead and then staunched the bleeding on her lip. “You were so brave. The most hardened of cowboys couldn’t have done better.”
She barely nodded. Turning her head, she glared at both Olga and Elda until they both appeared ashamed and glanced away from her.
“You can let her go now. Elda, Scarlett seems to be missing several of her dresses. I’d like them returned in their original condition before the day is out.”
Scarlett warmed at his words. He was taking her side.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’m going to let you rest, then I’ll send one of the boys to get some laudanum before I stitch you up.”
Scarlett gulped. “It’s going to leave a scar isn’t it?”
He leaned down and whispered into her ear. “Love, no one will ever see it but me.”
He smiled as her face flamed. “Rest.” His expression hardened as he ushered the other two women out of the room.
Scarlett allowed her tears to flow. She’d thought it was all done, but there were still stitches to get through. What had happened to all the laudanum? Perhaps Olga had an addiction to it. She’d heard of such things. Her head felt a bit woozy. She never wanted to drink that nasty whiskey again.
Chapter Seven
What a draining day! Working in the smithy was hard work but taking care of Scarlett’s leg was downright draining. It was different doctoring someone you cared about. Dillon sank back in a chair that he placed near Scarlett.
He’d expected hysterics from her but all in all, she’d been a trooper. She’d handled herself better than a lot of men he knew. She was not at all the spoiled little girl he’d believed her to be. What kind of person she was, he really didn’t know.
He decided to have Lou find a sofa to put in the corner of the smithy for Scarlett. He didn’t trust anyone else to take care of her. It was his fault Scarlett’s leg had gotten infected. He’d take better care of her from now on.
He stared down on her as she slept and smiled. Tenderness filled him and caring, a lot of caring. Last week he’d decided to build his own house, but now he knew he’d never do it. Missy jumped up on Scarlett, stretched, circled a few times, and finally settled on top of her. She was a cute cat he supposed.
He wasn’t about to leave Scarlett in the living room to spend the night, so he gently moved Missy and then lifted Scarlett into his arms. He held her close, and her eyelashes fluttered for a moment, but she fell back to sleep. He started for her room but turned into his instead and lay her down on the bed, making sure she was comfortable. He fanned out her glorious hair on the pillow and smiled at the effect. She almost looked angelic.
He left her to make sure all the doors were locked. Tomorrow he’d give Olga and Elda the boot. Their services were no longer required…or wanted. Imagine taking Scarlett’s dresses and leaving her with a stained one to put on. He shook his head. Sometimes a person just never knew what other people were capable of.
Finally he closed the door to his bedroom, undressed down to his underwear and got into bed beside his wife. He longed to hold her in his arms, but he wasn’t sure his attention would be welcome. He’d left her alone too long. What he should have done was talked to her and gotten everything straightened out between them.
He’d make up for it.
The next morning he woke before Scarlett and told Olga and Elda to leave. They both told him he was an ungrateful dolt. And they were appalled by his treatment of them. He didn’t care. In fact, closing the door behind them when they left gave him a bit of relief. Although they were bound to badmouth both him and Scarlett.
He made eggs with toast and then went to wake Scarlett. She was trying to stand on one foot. Shaking his head, he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the table.
“Eat your breakfast. It’ll be a long day at the smithy. You might want to bring one of your books.”
“Elda said you actually bought those books for her and I was just borrowing them. When I asked to read Ivanhoe, she told me she’d taken it home.”
His eyes widened. “You believed her?”
She stared at the floor. “Yes, I did.”
He wanted to growl but he didn’t. “I’ll get your books back. And your dresses too. Don’t you worry.”
He went back into the house, grabbed her cape, and lifted her. She smiled, but her lips trembled slightly.
“It’ll be just fine. I’ll be there, and you like Homer and Lou.”
She nodded as he lifted her onto the wagon. She settled herself, but she couldn’t hide her shaking hands.
She wasn’t the cold, uncaring woman she usually portrayed. He had a lot to learn about his wife, but it would have to be on her own terms. He didn’t want her to place more distance between them. He drove the horses slowly so not to jostle her, and finally they arrived.
“Here we are.” He set the brake and tied off the lines. Then he jumped down and held up his arms for her to lean his way. He scooped her up and carried her into his shop.
He was getting there a bit later than usual, and the shop was filled with customers as well as the regulars who hung around. The sofa looked inviting with a pretty quilt and matching pillow on it. After setting her down, he placed the quilt over her and made sure she was comfortable. With all the attention, a bright crimson painted her face.
“Most of you know, Scarlett, my beautiful wife. She is going to finish recovering here during the day. So watch your language.” This time he didn’t hear a grumble.
Homer came with a big list of things to repair and make. Several horses needed shoeing too.
“I’ll start on the bigger things while you two work the bellows, and then Homer, I’ll need you to repair what you can while Lou acts as farrier.” Both apprentices looked proud to be asked to work on their own. It was probably time to raise their wages.
Dillon jumped right in and began to make a tripod for the Lynches to use for cooking over the fire. It wasn’t hard, but it had a few tricky spots. The bellows got going, and the fire grew hot enough to start.
* * *
Scarlett watched the men coming and going, but most of all she watched Dillon. He drew her gaze time and again. He was a brawny man filled with confidence. His shirt pulled tight across his back as he worked, and his muscles rippled. When he pounded on the metal at the anvil, she could see his biceps bulge. He was certainly strong, but watching him had never affected her before. Even as his shirt grew damp with perspiration, it didn’t take away from his allure. Why now? She’d always thought him handsome, but this was something more. Her stomach felt fluttery, and she swore her heart skipped a beat whenever he looked up and caught her gaze.
Lunch time came and with it came Lolly. She stopped short of the smithy and stared at Scarlett. Then she turned a questioning gaze at Dillon. Scarlett glanced away. Lolly wasn’t a threat, and she needn’t treat her that way.
Dillon wiped his hands on his trousers and approached Lolly. “Oh, good. I was just getting hungry. As you can see, my wife is here. I wanted to be sure she heals properly.”
Lolly nodded her head at Scarlett, who nodded back. The look of defeat on Lolly’s face almost saddened Scarlett. She looked down at the quilt and traced the pattern with her finger. When had she decided to be kind to husband stealers? Something must have changed, but Scarlett wasn’t sure what.
Dillon placed a slice of meatloaf, a piece of cornbread, and some green beans on a fresh piece of wood as though it was a tray and set it on Scarlett’s lap. “Would you like coffee or water?”
There was something in the way he looked at her but she didn’t have a clue what it meant. “Coffee is just fine, thank you.”
He pulled a chair up right next to her and set the tray of food on his lap while Homer brought over their coffee.
“Thanks, Homer,” Dillon said.
It was the nicest lunch she could remember. There wasn’t any fine crystal or servants, but she didn’t need anyone besides Dillon. Had she been dropped on her head? “I have gaps in my memory from this last week. Did something happen to me during that time?”
Dillon finished chewing before he answered. “Not that I’m aware of. I didn’t know you had memory problems.”
“There were a few times I could have sworn I was in a different place when I woke up.”
Dillon frowned. “Like what?”
“I remember sitting in a chair looking out over the town but waking up in my bed. Then there was a time I’d been on the sofa but ended up in your bed.” She furrowed her brow. “It was very confusing.”
“The laudanum.”
She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“That’s where it all went. I bet they were dosing you with it. It would make sense.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Why? I don’t understand. It wasn’t as though I could get up and go anywhere.”
He stared at her for a bit then shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t think of any reason.”
“At least I now know I’m not going crazy.” She smiled at him and his returning smile warmed her heart. She sat there long after the trays were gone and Dillon had gone back to work wondering about the new feelings she was experiencing. It wasn’t just that he was handsome or strong. It went beyond that, and it was puzzling. Was this what her mother felt for her father? It couldn’t be. Their love was there in the open for all to see. Perhaps it was the beginning of really liking him?
She stole another glance at him. Everyone seemed to like him. All day people had come in to chat. He was kind and patient. She would have told a few of his customers to go somewhere else but in the end, he always charmed them.
At the moment, he was fixing and sharpening a plow for a farmer. He sure was a busy man. No wonder he was never home before dark.
As she listened to the men talk, she was happy to hear that Matilda’s rash had cleared up. Now, they mostly talked about what was best to plant and when. Despite all the noise, she felt her eyes beginning to close but then she heard a woman’s voice, and Scarlett came wide awake.
The woman was very lovely. Her features were dainty, and her blond hair hung all the way down her back. She nodded to all the men who greeted her, but her eyes lit up when she saw Dillon.
Scarlett’s stomach clenched, and her heart squeezed. She knew who it was before Dillon made the introductions. It was Angel, the woman from the saloon with the heavenly voice. Dillon’s speech was unnaturally soft as he introduced them. He smiled kindly, and Angel returned it with a lovely smile of her own.
“It’s so good to finally meet you, Scarlett. Dillon has told me much about you.”
Scarlett cocked her brow and lifted her chin. “Oh, did he?” How dare she, a soiled dove, call her by her first name? The woman didn’t know her place. Scarlett gave her a cold smile meant to warn Angel away.
All eyes were on the two of them, and Scarlett was livid. “Come here often to see my husband?” She gave Angel her best glare, but Angel didn’t seem to care.
“Why yes, he’s the nicest man I know.”
All the men in the shop began whispering to each other. Something dodgy was going on and Scarlett swore to get to the bottom of it. All of her good feelings left her, and she was filled with doubt and anger. She should have known what she had felt was fleeting at best. What a fool she was. She’d actually thought she was falling for her husband. Her heart hurt. She thought he was falling for her too. Her shoulders dropped as she turned away. It just wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth the pain or the jealousy. She’d been nothing but a fool.
She feigned great interest in the quilted pattern once again. If Dillon would rather be with that strumpet, so be it. Too bad she was stuck in the smithy for the day. Pretending to sleep might be the best course of action. She sighed and made herself comfortable on the sofa, closing her eyes while listening.
“Will you be at the saloon again tonight?” Angel asked.
“I have my wife to take care of,” Dillon answer
ed.
“You found someone to take care of her before so you could come and see me sing. Am I not allowed in here anymore?” Scarlett could hear the pouting in Angel’s voice.
“Everyone is allowed in here,” Dillon answered. Gracious, how very casual he sounded.
“Good! I think I’ll just pull up a stool and watch you work.”
The nerve of that hussy! Just who did she think she was? Scarlett closed her eyes tighter. Any reaction from her would be fodder for gossip, and frankly, she couldn’t afford to be talked about anymore. It was proving to be a long and exhausting day. She listened for a while but just heard the pounding of the metal. At long last, she drifted off.
She felt something on her face and she quickly sat up. It was Dillon caressing her cheek. “Oh, you scared me.”
“I’m glad you were able to get some rest. I was just about to go to the store to get more medicine for you. Did you need anything else?”
His eyes were so full of concern she almost forgot about Angel. “No more medicine, please. It makes me so woozy.”
He sat down on the sofa next to her and took her small hand in his big strong one. “I was going to find something to put on the gash.”
“I could use a needle and thread. I have a feeling I have a few dresses to repair. Do you think you could get a couple yards of lace? If it’s too expensive don’t worry about it.” She suddenly felt shy under his intense gaze.
His lips twitched. “I might be able to afford a piece or two. I’ll be back. I have your books to collect from Elda too. I feel bad that I hadn’t noticed how they were treating you.”
She smiled. “I didn’t even know until the last. It’s not your fault.”
Leaning over, he gave her a quick kiss on her cheek before he stood and left.
Upon looking around, she was surprised to see Angel and a few more saloon girls all sitting on stools talking to the men. What would their wives have to say? She’d bet they didn’t know, yet. Not from her though. There were many other women who would be willing to spill the beans. As she watched them, she noticed that one had her eye on Homer and another watched Lou. Scarlett’s breath caught. Lou was too young to consort with that type of woman.