by Lass Small
It was not unusual that Ellen had no idea how interested the whole, entire outfit treasured all the gossip—about her and Tom. She had no clue that was so.
After all, she’d been working at the clinic, silently holding animals for shots or an exam, cleaning ghastly things up and not complaining at all. She had been a jewel.
They allowed her to take care of Tom. Well, the guys took turns doing the more intimate things.
“I can do that,” she said about Tom. “I’ve done it with the other animals.”
That retort made all the rounds with hilarity.
Ellen began to eat her lunch with Tom. The staff was adamant that Tom should feed himself.
She allowed that.
But she ate with him. She had her own tray there. She sat on one chair and held the tray on her lap. The room wasn’t big enough for anything else. But she and Tom visited.
He told her when he couldn’t get something into his mouth. Then he wanted to be kissed so that his mouth was free and clear. She did that. And they laughed softly. Sharing.
Once Tom wanted a kiss, and she had to unwind the celery from her teeth. He was so amused. He coaxed for a kiss trapped in celery strings.
She allowed that. His tongue was eager to help. He got hyper. She soothed him. She rubbed him. She kissed him yet again.
He slept like a slowly snoring dead man.
The crew never allowed anyone to hang around a human patient at mealtime. After eating, even the animal patients were put to rest. It was quiet time.
Ellen stayed. She felt she was part of the team and not an intruder. The crew tolerated that. They were amused and allowed her to stay.
Tom slept.
She curled up and her heavy eyes closed without her permission. She also slept.
That was reported by the one who gathered the several trays. Most of those in hospital weren’t human. They were animals. They were given food quite differently than by tray.
The humans were simply sidelines. And rather something of a nuisance. Trays! Baths! Cognizant protests. All that there stuff.
But such a human patient was given the same kind attention the animals had.
It wasn’t until Tom brought up the question of who had shot that silent, whispering bullet, that such was openly discussed. That he would want to talk about it rattled Ellen.
Tom was healing. He was ready to figure it all out. He wasn’t yet able to ride a horse or go out to that area again.
For that, Ellen was very grateful.
But they had put a brace on Tom’s leg. They got him up and he could walk somewhat foolishly, with a crutch under his good armpit.
The other arm was in a sling.
To look at Tom in such a position again, standing, scared Ellen’s stomach. He would eventually go out and look at where he’d been when he was pitched by bis horse.
By then, she knew the horse had bobbled and bucked because the bullet had gone through the hair across the front of the horse’s chest. The horse’s ears had heard the bullet.
How strange to have an enemy no one could finger. All the people in the area were on watch. None had found any clue at all.
It was a Keeper cousin who came to see Tom with John Keeper along to listen. Klyn was about twenty-seven and he worked on another of the Keeper family ranches, owned by his daddy. Klyn volunteered to go out and about and just look. Search. He’d see if everything else had been checked out.
He was named Franklyn Keeper but he went by the name of Klyn. People are strange. Klyn liked being around and listening. And he was sure he could find out who the devil was being so carelessly dangerous out west of the Keepers.
Klyn was tall enough and looked well made and very male. His features were ordinary but his dark blue eyes were attractive. His lashes were very visible and thick. His eyebrows were also thick.
Klyn’s hair was somewhat casual and he could use a haircut, but the wind didn’t get his hair in the way of his watching.
He could grow a beard in a week.
But Klyn insisted on doing the search alone. Klyn told a bed-bound Tom, “I understand you wanting to go along, but I’d rather be by myself. I can’t wait around for you to heal. With just one, there’s less noise. No talking. I have a new, almost nothing saddie that makes no sound at all. Neither horse is shod.”
Klyn soothed the protester, “I can shoot an arrow very well. I won’t make any noise at all. Nothing clicks or creaks or clues us in...the horses or me. Let me try. Leave me be. I’ll be in touch.”
John Keeper said, “Take a cellular phone.”
“Only if you swear you will not contact me.”
John promised, “It’s just to call us if you need help.”
Klyn nodded...once. But he said, “Leave me be. I would contact you if I need help. But leave me alone. Don’t let your curiosity get wild and call me. Okay?”
John promised, “On our honor.”
As they left Tom, Klyn asked John, “May I rattle Tom’s brain cells?”
“If he doesn’t mind.”
“May I ask him?”
John said, “That’s about the only way you’ll find out. That boy’s an independent cuss.”
Klyn smiled. “I like that kind.”
John added, “Me, too. He irritates the very hell out of his mother. He never tells her anything.”
Klyn said, “Finding out will be interesting.”
John said softly, “Take care of yourself—out there.”
“I will.” He said that as he stretched. Then he was serious. “Don’t come along trailing me.”
“I promise.” John took a deep breath. “You young’uns scare the very hell out of me.”
“No need to fret. Everything’ll be all right.”
“Isn’t that what’s said at night to babies?”
Klyn shrugged “I don’t yet know that. What I just said was about what I’d tell any restless adult who is trying to horn in and ride along.”
John was elaborately surprised. “You know all that already? Well, hell, man, you’re supposed to be younger than that.”
“I’m an old soul. I’ve been killed any number of times. I’m used to it, and I’ll see to this or die trying.”
Klyn’s daddy’s brother said soberly, “Don’t do that. I’d suffer.”
Klyn smiled and licked his lips. “I was funning you. You’ve been sounding just like my...mama. Now, a man your age doesn’t want to be called an—old woman—does he?”
Of course, Mina came along in time to hear that and she said, “Why not? Women are what makes this world go ’round.”
Klyn grinned and rubbed his nose. He said, “Yes’um. You’re right Without women, this world would be an empty place.”
Mina tilted back her head and suggested, “When you have the time, remember what you said.”
Klyn laughed softly like a man knows how to do, and he said, “I’ll do that.” Then he took a thumb-first finger hold on his Stetson in a very slight tilt of respect, and he bade them a fine goodbye.
The senior Keepers watched Klyn walk away from them. Mina said, “He’s a good boy.”
John chided, “He’s a man.”
“Enough of one. He’s really still quite young and vulnerable.”
“He’s going out to see who’s shooting off those damned big bullets from where the he—heck distance.”
“That should give him something interesting to do. I’ll think about him and mentally watch him.”
“Don’t get too nosy. Men that age are triggered.”
“Gun crazy.” She agreed.
“Woman lusting.” John corrected her.
She sighed by taking in a large breath and her chest went out noticeably.
John knew that because he watched. He said, “You’re acting very theatrically. People will notice.”
“I’m only luring—you.”
“Hah! Let’s go to our room before it’s time for you to put up your hair in those damned curlers.”
She tilte
d her head in consideration. “I could do that.”
They did.
Klyn visited with just Tom and asked all sorts of questions to “see” what Tom had seen. They did diagrams of how Tom’s horse had moved. Tom slitted his eyes and thought and said, “Thisaway. About like that. I was watching so’s I’d fall on something soft. Grass or sand. There’s sand out yonder. Pay attention.”
Klyn listened.
The two talked a long time. Mostly it was Tom in remembering what he saw, of how the sound of the bullet had been. It was little pieces of remembering.
Everyone left them alone. That hadn’t been easy for Ellen. Not that she was curious. She just wanted to be with Tom.
It was a long time before Klyn left. The two men silently shook hands. Tom said, “Watch yourself. Listen. Those bullets are labeled as sounding like something coming through the air. No sound of firing, just the sound of something going through the air.
“I hear you,” Klyn said soberly. Then he clasped Tom’s good shoulder. “Take care of yourself. We need you around.”
Tom said, “You, too.”
They looked at each other. Then Klyn left. He moved silently.
That made Tom thoughtful. Klyn just might make it back.
From the house window, John watched as Klyn left the little hospital. If anyone could solve the mystery of those damned bullets, it would be Klyn Keeper. He had always been curious. He had been as a little tad. He always needed to know how and why. If he lived...yeah. That was the rub. How could John ever explain to Klyn’s daddy, John’s own brother.
John said to Mina, “Pray for him.”
“Help me.”
“God isn’t as tolerant of me as He is of you.”
“You’re lazy and absentminded.”
John was surprised as he considered her words. “I’ve noticed that very thing!”
Nine
While Cousin Klyn Keeper was searching out west of the area of the intrusive bullets, all the other places were just as busy and so were the other Keepers. They continued to be cautious and careful; but on the ranch, they were busy.
There was the cattle to move, plus the everyday riding the fences and the repair of them. There were their own horses to care for. Along with that, they were aware. Watchful.
Tom Keeper was especially fragile. At the small hospital, it just about killed Ellen to watch as Tom was—exercised.
That’s what the therapy ironhanded murderer called what he did to Tom. Exercise? It was torture!
Ellen gasped and her hands moved almost out as she watched simply appalled!
The ironhanded murderer suggested Ellen go visit other creatures that were bored and restless there in the—uh—hospital.
But Ellen said a very brave, “No.”
That way, she could be sure the murderer would not actually kill Tom with the maneuvers and bendings and torture!
Tom gasped and squeezed up his face and bit his lip.
The murderer quite roughly suggested, “Tell her it isn’t all that bad.”
Under strain, Tom replied, “Thisaway, she feels compassion for me and could possibly put her sweet hand on my anguished—forehead.”
The murderer questioned, “Where...on your... body?”
Tom said, “I’m not sure.”
The murderer snarled, “I can’t stay and watch—afterward—and I’ll never know what all she did to you!”
Tom raised his eyebrows as he lowered his eyelids and said, “Darn.”
Alert and anxious, Ellen said, “Is he threatening you?”
Tom asked the murderer, “Are you?”
The murderer said, “Hel—heck no! I’m just doing what it shows on the page what all he’s supposed to do! I didn’t figure this stuff out!”
The beast was an indignant murderer. He stretched muscles on Tom and his own muscles bulged. To Ellen, it seemed that the murderer was tearing Tom apart!
She moved in agitation. She said, “Stop that!”
Tom told her, “It’s okay.”
The murderer laughed,
Ellen’s eyes were like saucers. She said to Tom, “If you want me to get you help, I’ll go do it.”
Tom replied, “It’s really okay. I’m all right.” But then his face screwed up as if—lying on that bed—he’d dropped something weighing one thousand pounds on his foot.
Bravely, she commanded the murderer, “That’s enough!”
Tom said, “He still has to do my legs.”
A great tear slid out of her eye and began its journey down over her perfect cheek.
The murderer stopped and said to her, “You’re upsetting me. Go out and see if you can find a flower for this creep.”
Tom agreed. “I do need a flower.”
She asked in a shaky voice, “Will you be...all right?”
Nobly sober, Tom said earnestly, “I will survive... even this.”
The murderer complained, “Now why did you say that? I’m as careful as I can be!”
With watery eyes and biting her lower lip, Ellen went out of the room and almost closed the door. She peeked through the slim crack and watched. The murderer was no different; however, Tom was relaxed and okay.
Hmmmm.
In about ten minutes, Ellen was back with a field flower she’d found. Tom was naked and lying on his stomach. His arm was still encased, as was his opposite leg in its cast.
His eyes were closed. He was lax.
Ellen gasped, “Has he fainted?”
The murderer said, “Naw. He’s a comedian.”
Tom licked his budding smile.
Ellen said to the murderer. “I may well have misjudged you.”
The large, muscled murderer replied with indignation, “Yeah.”
With the exercise given him, Tom went out like a light. He slept. Besides keeping his muscles going, he was supposed to sleep after such exercise.
Ellen was still leaking sympathetic tears as she watched Tom sleep. Because he was the victim of the murderer, Tom had been discreetly covered with a sheet...by the murderer.
It was a time for Ellen to watch Tom and think about herself and Tom. He was a good man. He could handle himself. He was careful of her.
She understood how much he wanted her body to calm his, but he was waiting for her to signal him that it would be okay for him—to be with her. To make love with her.
Ellen watched the sleeping man. He wasn’t like any man she’d ever known. He didn’t just push her down and take her. He did hover. He made it clear to the other males that Ellen Simpson belonged to Tom Keeper.
She hadn’t openly, entirely given him that permission—as yet He waited. He cared about her.
In her core, Ellen’s body stirred.
Even in such a slight way as that, she was shocked. Her breathing changed and she was embarrassed. How come no other man had made her feel that way? Respond? Not exactly. He was asleep. Her body didn’t mind. Her lust went on. It was...want.
Her eyes were naked and she looked at the sleeping man. Tom Keeper.
She sat and watched Tom who was naked under the sheet. She could strip and just slide into his bed and—under him.
Her breaths were quicker and high in her chest She licked her lips several times. She became restless.
She took a deep breath and exhaled as if casual about it. She was triggered. She wanted him.
Sex.
The very word had always been distasteful to her. Vulgar. Tawdry. It was in the pit of her stomach. It was none of the things that had always swamped her. Why the change in her acceptance...now?
Why did she lust for Tom when she’d found being with Phillip so distasteful? What was the difference between those two?
She sat in her chair and remembered Phillip.
It didn’t take long for Ellen to compare the two men. Phillip was selfish and harsh. He—had—used—her.
Would Tom? Would he come to her like Philip had?
He would take her from the chatting, milling group, and go upstairs and
onto someone’s made-up bed? Then Phillip was finished like a rabbit. He would leave her there to tidy herself as he went downstairs and off with some of the other guys who’d waited patiently in the car.
Would Tom do that? How could she be sure?
She looked at Tom lying there, under the sheet and asleep. He was lying on his stomach. He was naked under that sheet. He was vulnerable. Why did her body get excited? How come it—wanted—him? Why hadn’t her body ever wanted any other man?
That was very sobering to consider.
But her body made her restless. Her breathing was different. She had a tough time trying to control—her—breathing? It seemed loud to her. There in that calm room, why would she feel so noisy and—well—restless?
She wanted to—
She wanted—Tom. She wanted to be under his body with her legs sprawled and her heels on the backs of his knees.
She’d have to be careful of his arm and leg.
Now why had she thought of that! How shocking.
Ellen smiled a tad. She licked her lips and she moved restlessly. She shifted a bit. She breathed oddly. Her puffy lips parted.
She put her hands at the tops of her breasts. She watched Tom avidly. Ellen watched him possessively.
That was a terrible thing to do to a sleeping man. He ought to be warned.
Ellen slid her hands down over her breasts quite slowly. An odd squiggle went in a leisurely circle inside her womb.
Then the squiggle went slowly up her spine.
She was in...lust? It spread into her breasts and licked inside the nipples.
She?
The ice maiden?
Surely not.
She smiled. She stretched her arms and lifted her legs and spread them widely. She watched Tom. He would be her first victim. Before this time, it had been she who’d been used. She would use...Tom.
Tom moved in his sleep. His breathing changed.
She considered him. Her eyes were lascivious. She licked her lips. Her eyes lifted to the man’s face. His lips parted. He seemed intense. His breathing was as if he’d been backed into a portion of a cave by a standing bear.