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by Leona Karr


  At that moment, Kirby came in with an ice bag that must have been ten years old. “Sorry it took me so long. I couldn’t find the thing. I remembered Zack used it for one of his hangovers and had been lying down in the den with it. There it was, on a shelf behind the bar. Hope it doesn’t leak.” The cook squinted down at Jill as he handed Hal the bag and a small towel. “You don’t look so good, gal. Knocked yourself out, did you?”

  “No. Nothing like that. My legs got watery and my head started spinning.”

  “The ice should keep the swelling down,” Hal said as he rested the ice bag on the side of her head.

  “Brr, that’s cold,” she protested. “Feels good, though.” The choice between cold and pain was an easy one to make.

  “I guess we’ll have two patients for the copter tomorrow, eh, boss?” asked Kirby.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Jill answered quickly. “I just have a bump on my head. That’s all. After a little rest, I’ll be up and about, taking care of Sue and the baby.”

  “Sure you will,” Hal agreed, not looking directly at her so she wouldn’t see the worry he was trying to hide. “But right now, you’re going to stay put.”

  “Would you like a cup of tea? And a fresh apple turnover?” Kirby asked, obviously dedicated to food as a cure for all ills.

  “Maybe later. My stomach’s kinda queasy,” she said.

  “Call me if you change your mind,” Kirby said as he left with a shake of his thinning hair.

  “I’m feeling a little sleepy.”

  “That’s too bad,” Hal said gruffly, “because you’re going to stay awake just in case you’ve cracked your skull hard enough to get a concussion.” He was truly worried. Any blow to the head could be dangerous. What if she’d seriously hurt herself? The possibility made his heart grab like an iron vise tightening his chest with every breath. The fear of something happening to her made him realize with shocking force how much she meant to him. He wanted her with him, safe in his house, away from anything and anyone that might harm her.

  “I’ll get a fire going in here. We keep this room shut off most of the time.”

  A roaring fire that Hal laid in the small brick fireplace soon dispelled the chill in the attractive sitting room. Floral drapes and slipcovers harmonized with pictures of garden flowers on the ivory wallpaper. An oval braided rug lay on the planked floor, and a bright ruffled pillow accented an antique rocking chair. It was definitely a woman’s room, and Jill wasn’t surprised when Hal referred to it as his mother’s sitting and sewing room.

  “Doesn’t get much use. I suppose I could redecorate and turn it into an office or something,” Hal admitted, but she could tell that there were too many memories connected with the room to make it into something else. Once again the close tie between him and his parents brought a momentary flicker of envy. Even though her adopted parents had been kind and loving, there was always that deep longing to know the two people who had given her life. How wonderful to grow up in a home like this, surrounded by loved ones. Hal was blessed, indeed, to have such a wealth of family ties, giving him an identity and the courage to hold on to his heritage.

  There was a steady procession of people in and out of the sitting room. When Larry and Scotty appeared at the doorway, they were still holding a handful of cards from an interrupted poker game.

  “We heard you cracked your head open,” Scotty said.

  “Don’t see any blood,” Larry said with undisguised curiosity as he looked her over.

  “There isn’t any,” Hal answered curtly. “She’s got a bump, that’s all. Nothing to worry about. She’ll be fine.” His tense expression belied his words.

  “Kirby said she fell. How’d it happen?”

  “I slipped coming back from the barn,” Jill answered Larry, a little annoyed that the men were talking over her. “Hurrying too fast, I guess. Wasn’t watching my step. Hit my head on something just under the snow. And got a goose egg to show for it,” she said, trying to make light of her headache.

  “Zack was supposed to make sure she got to the house safely,” Hal added shortly. “And then he carried her to the bunkhouse instead of bringing her here. I don’t know what he was thinking.”

  Larry gave a dirty chuckle. “I do.”

  As color quickly shot up into Hal’s cheeks, Scotty said quickly, “No harm done, I guess. Anything we can do, Jill?”

  She wished there was another woman in the house to take over for her with Sue and the baby. Gary would have his hands full. “I’m worried about Sue’s fever. I’d appreciate it if you’d check on her and the baby. The new father may need some help.”

  “I was just up there,” Scotty said. “Both mother and baby were sleeping and Gary was thumbing through a magazine. It looked to me like everything was under control.”

  “Thank heavens,” she breathed. Her place was upstairs tending to the new mother, not stretched out on a couch with an ice bag on her head.

  “The snowplows may be out by midnight if it starts clearing,” Scotty said hopefully. “After they get the main roads open, they’ll dig us out.”

  Hal nodded. “Wouldn’t be surprised if the county plows don’t get to the ranch about the time that copter is supposed to set down at noon tomorrow.”

  “But what if the copter doesn’t show?” Scotty asked with infuriating pessimism. “What then?”

  Hal glared at the Scotsman. Leave it to Scotty to plant more worries in Jill’s mind. He could see the anxious lines around her mouth deepen. “Then we’ll have to make other plans. If the roads get open, we can drive into Rampart. Take Sue and the baby to the hospital and have a doctor check Jill.” He was worried about the nut who had been calling her and leaving weird presents on her doorstep. He’d have a few things to say to the sheriff about finding the guy.

  Scotty rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “The camper shell I have on the truck would work as a kind of ambulance. There’s a good bed and enough room for several people. Of course, the truck won’t do us a darn bit of good if the road to the house isn’t plowed so we can get out.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing we’ll all be clearing out tomorrow,” Larry said, going over to a window. “The clouds seem to be lifting,” he said peering out. “I bet I can get on my skis first thing in the morning and head out of here. Of course, there’s still tonight to have a kind of farewell celebration.” As he turned around, his eyes settled on Jill. “Kirby has a gin bottle stashed away in the kitchen. We ought to have a little party.”

  “Why don’t you fellows get back to your card game?” Hal suggested pointedly. He’d had enough of Larry and Scotty’s company and he didn’t think their chatter was doing Jill any good. He could tell she was worried about Sue and blaming herself for not being upstairs with her.

  “I’ve got some Excedrin, if you need it. And I’ll be glad to sit with you if Hal has some chores to do,” Scotty said pointedly.

  “We both will,” Larry countered curtly.

  “Shut the door on your way out,” Hal said purposefully, effectively shutting off any more offers.

  As soon as the two men left, Jill insisted on sitting up.

  “Did you need more ice?” Hal asked anxiously.

  “No, that’s enough.” She set the ice pack aside. “My head is feeling better, really it is.”

  “You’re not thinking of going upstairs, are you? You’re staying here even if I have to hold you down.”

  “Is that a promise or a threat?”

  Instead of responding to her light suggestive tone, his expression remained solemn. He sat down beside her and eased her head into the cradle of his arm and chest. When she closed her eyes, he ordered, “Don’t go to sleep.”

  “All right, then talk to me.”

  “I’m not much good at idle conversation, all the stories I know are a little off-color for a lady,” he admitted. “So are all my jokes, I’m afraid.”

  “Tell me about yourself.”

  “That’s even more boring than talking about t
he weather.”

  “Not to me. Please?”

  Maybe it was the bump on her head that made her reckless, or the intimacy of the situation that clouded her judgment. She couldn’t believe it when she heard herself saying, “Tell me about Carrie.”.

  “Who told you about her? I suppose one of the fellows has been talking.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have asked.’

  “Nothing much to tell. Carrie lived up the valley and her folks and mine were good friends. She was a part of my life as long as I can remember. We grew up together. She was born to this kind of life, knew how to ride as well as any fellow, and could handle herself with the roughest of cowhands. We were planning on getting married when I got out of college, but it didn’t happen. She turned her back on the life we’d planned, took a trip back East, and found someone else. End of story.”

  His matter-of-fact tone was at odds with the sadness she’d seen in him at other times. The tender longing in his eyes when he’d held the baby, and his crispness about not needing the cradle showed that his dreams of having a wife and family had run deep. He fell silent but Jill couldn’t let it rest. “And you never found anyone else?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? I’m sure you’ve had plenty of chances to meet someone else. And don’t tell me you’ve lived like a monk all these years, ‘cause I won’t believe it.”

  “Oh, I’ve had female companionship from time to time, enjoyed some very good times, as a matter of fact, but nothing more. There was never anybody I’d want to build a future with.”

  “Why not?”

  He tightened his arm around her. She filled his senses so completely that he wanted to ignore the whole damn world and think about nothing but keeping her in his arms, but he couldn’t do that, not to her. She deserved honesty and integrity. Holding out empty promises would only delay the hurt and unhappiness. “I guess the time has come for that talk you wanted.”

  His sober tone made her wish she’d kept quiet She realized too late that she didn’t want to hear what he was going to say. On some deep, unspoken level, he had already withdrawn from her. He had made a decision. It was in his voice. She knew before he said anything more that he had decided to end the closeness that had sprung between them.

  “I hope you’ll understand what I’m going to say, Jill. This whole thing is my fault. I never meant it to go this far. I knew the minute I saw you and listened to Randy talk about you that it would be easy to make the same mistake my brothers made.”

  “Mistake?”

  “They fell in love and married gals who were totally unfit to be ranchers’ wives. They weren’t willing to accept a hard and demanding life that offered so much less than they were used to having. After a few short months they’d had enough, and in order to save their marriages, my brothers had to pull up their roots and settle their families somewhere else. I’m not willing to do that. This ranch is my life’s blood.”

  He couldn’t have been any more direct. She got his message loud and clear. Despite the sexual attraction between them, there was no place in his future for a city gal who barely knew one end of a cow from the other.

  His arm tightened slightly around her shoulders. “I want you to understand why I can’t commit myself to any relationship, however tempting it may be. God knows, I wish I could, but it wouldn’t work.”

  “How can you be so sure?” she asked skeptically.

  “No telling what sacrifices I’ll have to make to keep this place. One thing’s for sure, I don’t want you involved. I didn’t really know how ugly things could get until now. The sooner you’re back in town, the better.”

  And out of your life, Jill mentally added.

  At that moment, a ruckus like that of a barroom brawl exploded from the direction of the back porch and then reached a crescendo in the kitchen. Swearing and crashing furniture rose above the sound of physical fighting.

  Hal leapt to his feet. “What in the devil is going on?”

  Jerking open the sitting-room door, he strode into the kitchen, his face like a thundercloud. The antler coatrack was sprawled on the floor, and the kitchen table knocked at a crazy angle as the two men lunged and whirled, fists flying in every direction. Hal had half expected to see the skier and Scotty exchanging blows over a poker hand, but it was his two ranch hands slugging at each other like drunken sailors on leave.

  Kirby had the advantage of height but not muscle power. Zack’s smaller stature was hard and well-conditioned, and his fury seemed to be greater than that of the lanky ex-sailor. Not that Kirby wasn’t equally the aggressor, taking the fight to Zack with every thrust of his long arms and clenched fists. The air was purple with oaths as they lunged at each other.

  “That’s enough. Break it up!” Hal’s shout went unheeded. He barrelled between them, trying to shove them apart. In the melee, he got caught with an uppercut intended for Kirby, Zack’s fist landing squarely on Hal’s nose.

  Larry and Scotty, who’d been watching from the doorway, took a step forward, but Hal waved them back. Zack got to his feet. His face was flushed and his eyes fiery, but the blood pouring down Hal’s face seemed to sober him.

  Kirby’s lean shoulders drooped. “Sorry, boss. Things got a little out of hand.” The cook handed Hal a wet cloth for his nose. “I was just telling the truth as I see it.”

  Zack set his jaw. “I don’t take crap from nobody.”

  “You’ve had gals out in the bunkhouse,” Kirby flashed back. “No need to lie about it. Ain’t nothing wrong with my eyes, nor my nose either—cheap perfume lingers, you know. I’ve put up with a lot having to bunk with you, but you’re not taking a gal like Jill down to your level. Not while I’m here to stop it.”

  “Why not, sailor boy? You got some plans of your own?”

  “Is that what this is about?” Hal looked from one man to the other, a sick feeling developing in his stomach.

  “Zack was trying to make out with Jill in the bunkhouse,” Kirby said flatly. “He told me he carried her there when she fell. I know how he works. Gets them all softened up with a song or two. A real cowboy Romeo. Makes me sick, it does. I told him so. He’d better be keeping his roving hands off her.”

  Zack made a threatening movement toward Kirby and Hal stopped him with a glare. “That’s enough. You’d better cool it unless you both want to find yourselves out in the snow tonight. I mean it. Kirby, straighten up this mess and get some supper on the table. Zack, see to the evening chores.” He started toward the hall bathroom to wash his face. “Show’s over,” he told Larry and Scotty.

  “Is it true?” Larry pried, as they followed him down the hall. “Zack really made out with Jill?”

  “You should have punched him in the nose instead of the other way around,” Scotty said knowingly.

  “Nothing happened,” Hal said shortly.

  “How do you know?” Larry muttered.

  “A gal with a bump on the head could be easy picking,” Scotty protested.

  “I tell you nothing happened.” Hal raised his voice. “Give it a rest!”

  “All right. All right.” Scotty held out his hands in surrender. “But it seems to me you’re in for a mite of trouble with your ranch hands, especially if you plan on keeping company with Jill after this storm is over.”

  Jill had watched the fight from the sitting-room doorway. Knowing that she would only make matters worse if she tried to interfere, she held back and kept quiet. The taunts Zack and Kirby launched at each other made it clear that she was at the center of the whole sickening episode. And she hadn’t known what Zack’s intentions had been when he carried her to the bunkhouse. If Hal hadn’t interrupted them, the guitar-strumming cowhand might have been more than she could handle, especially with her head feeling like a hatchet was buried in it. But Hal had come and that was that. She didn’t need Kirby defending her virtue and picking a fight with Zack over it.

  She heard Hal snap at Larry and Scotty as they left the kitchen,
something about him having to get rid of Kirby and Zack because of her. She put a hand up to her aching head, wondering where it was all going to end.

  Chapter Eight

  In the bathroom, Hal splashed water on his face and tried to stanch the bleeding by putting pressure on his nose. His shirt looked as if he’d been butchered, and even his trousers were spotted with blood. Holding a cloth to his face, he went upstairs to change.

  Zack slammed out the back door and Kirby quickly put the kitchen to rights again. When he caught sight of Jill leaning up against the door frame, he quickly came over and mumbled an apology. “Sorry about that. I put a burr under Zack’s saddle, all. right. Just couldn’t stand the thought of him treating you like one of his cheap floozies. I look the other way when he wants to shack up with someone but hitting on you is too much! I warned him if he didn’t keep his distance from you, he have more than his head in a sling.”

  Jill didn’t have the energy to try to explain that the only thing Zack had done was torture her with a head-bashing, frenzied song. What other intentions he’d had, she wasn’t sure. She shivered, remembering the sensuous way he’d close his eyes when he was saying her name over and over during the song.

  She walked slowly into the kitchen, sat down at the table and resisted the impulse to rest her head in her hands. “I’ll take that tea now,” she told Kirby. Her stomach needed settling and a deep weariness made her feel as if she’d aged ten years in the last couple of hours. She knew that she had to pull herself together. Until the copter picked up Sue and the baby tomorrow, she had to keep functioning. One more patient was something none of them needed.

  “There you go.” Kirby set a porcelain cup and saucer and a small teapot in front of her. “Hal’s mom had a nice collection. All shapes and sizes of tea sets. Nobody’s used them for a long time.”

  Jill gave an appreciative murmur and held the cup with both hands as she sipped the hot tea. The brew was stronger than she really liked, but she hoped the stimulant would give her some energy. She finished one cup and poured another before she realized the tea was having the opposite effect. Her eyelids felt weighted, and she was fighting a battle to keep them open.

 

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