She looked away from his handsome face, embarrassed. “Seems to me you must know me a lot better than I know you, Mr. Mercy.”
He chuckled. “Ah, you’re using my sir-name again. That must mean you’re angry about something.”
She wanted to cry. “Can’t you guess? You said I’ve been laying here practically two days. How much of that time did you spend looking at me?”
She could feel him smiling without even looking at him. “For one thing, you’ve been lying there two days, not laying. And, by gosh, I stared at you the whole time. Prettiest sight I’ve ever seen. Wish I could have photographed it so I’d have something to carry in my pocket to remind me.”
Callie gasped, sitting up now in spite of her pain, and holding the blanket to her throat. “You no-good, dirty-minded, womanizing bastard! A simple snakebite is no good reason to take off a woman’s clothes!”
He sobered just slightly. “It is if the woman is dying from fever. And you kicked off the blanket yourself in near hysteria and begged me to hang on to you and not let you die. Are you saying now that you would rather I’d just left you? And it wasn’t a simple snakebite. That was the biggest rattler I’ve ever seen. You’re damn lucky to be alive, Miss Hobbs. And I deserve more for saving your hide than being called names.”
Prettiest sight he’d ever seen? Did he really think she was pretty? She watched him walk away to take what was left of their firewood from the bundle they’d been carrying and bring it over to add to a small fire he already had going, over which a coffeepot hung from a tripod.
“I begged you to hold on to me?”
“You don’t remember that?”
She lay back down. “Kind of. I mean, everything is like I dreamed it.”
“Oh? Do you dream about me holding you?”
Callie rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Well, more like a nightmare, then.”
He laughed again. “Callie, I am just joking with you. And no, I didn’t sit and stare at you for the last two days. It just so happens I was very worried you were going to die on me. I did a lot of praying, not that the Lord would listen to me anymore after some of the things I’ve done.” He sobered then, pouring himself some coffee. “Seriously now—how do you feel?”
“I hurt—everywhere—but mostly my right hip. It’s sore as hell. I think I remember you saying you were going to cut me with your jackknife.”
“I did. I sucked out as much venom as I could. If you hadn’t taken off running and been so hard to wrestle down, you would have saved yourself a lot of pain and fever. Worst thing you can do after a snakebite is get up and run.”
He’d sucked out the venom? Lordy! Christian Mercy’s lips had touched her bare skin—and near her bottom end! How was she going to live this down? “I know I should thank you.”
He sat down on his saddle and sipped some coffee. “Well, then, why don’t you?”
“I don’t know. It’s just the thought of you probably getting some kind of pleasure out of this whole thing while I lay there, helpless.”
There was a moment of silence before he spoke her name. “Callie. Will you please look at me?”
Cautiously she turned her head to face him. “What?”
“I got no pleasure out of the thought of you dying, all right? It scared the hell out of me, because I’ve learned to respect you and I like you…a lot. You’re a strong, sweet young lady who doesn’t deserve to die out here in the middle of nowhere.”
Callie saw only sincerity in his blue eyes, and now she vaguely remembered him saying he wouldn’t let go of her, that he’d hang on real tight. Had he even called her honey? She remembered resting against his chest, his strong arms around her, cool water being trickled over her face, her throat, her…
“Lordy!” she whispered more to herself than anyone else. She’d taken comfort in his embrace, felt safe. She looked at him again as he finished his coffee. “You really care?”
He tossed out the coffee at the bottom of his cup. “Of course I do.” He set the cup aside. “You ready to eat something now?”
She lay there and thought about it a moment. “I think so. But I have to…you know. I have to do what I was doing when the snake bit me. I’m just not sure I can get up and walk.”
“Well, then, I’ll help you.” He came over to where she lay, and as she started to sit up she felt herself being lifted. To her total embarrassment, the blanket hung loosely, so that one hand was under her bare back, his fingers grasping her at the ribs not far from her breast, and his other arm was under her bare legs, his hand grasping her bare thigh! What in the world was this sensation she had at the feel of his strong, rough hands touching her bare skin? It made her feel closer to him…in a strangely special way.
She clung for dear life to the blanket so it wouldn’t fall away from the front of her. “All you need to do is support me,” she protested.
“Better carry you for now. You need to drink something and get some food in your stomach, then rest a little longer before you get up and start walking around. Besides, that could bring back your headache.” He finally set her on her feet under a low pine.
“I’ll go get some paper for you. Use one of these pine branches to hang on to while you kneel down.”
Callie felt she must be turning purple from humiliation. “What if my blanket falls off?”
“Then it falls off. I wouldn’t be seeing anything I haven’t already seen.”
She felt like crying. “Please don’t remind me. And don’t look till I tell you.”
He chuckled. “I won’t look. You going to be okay?”
“I think so.”
Chris left her, and Callie hurriedly wrapped the blanket completely around herself, then lifted it to relieve herself of pent-up water. She managed to scoot away from the puddle before calling out to Chris. “Bring the paper.”
Chris walked back and handed her a small wad of paper, and she took it sheepishly. “Turn around again.”
Shaking his head, he turned and waited. Callie took care of things and managed to get to her feet, quickly rearranging the blanket so it was wrapped fully around her. “Oh, lordy,” she said weakly as dizziness overwhelmed her. She felt herself falling, felt strong arms catch her and lift her again.
“Just what I thought,” Chris muttered.
The dizziness left her as he carried her back to their campsite, but she could not help the tears that came while she was still in his arms.
“What is it?” Chris asked. “The pain?”
Keeping the blanket wrapped in her fists, she covered her face. “No,” she wept. “I’m just so…embarrassed…making so much trouble. I should have looked before I…the other day…I might have seen the snake. Now I’m just a big burden to you. I promised I wouldn’t be. And now…how can I look at you again…you seeing me like you did?”
She tried to cringe away from him, but he held on tight, and she sensed he was sitting down, maybe on a rock or something, because he continued to hold her in his lap.
“Callie, accidents happen. A snake bit you, and I did what I had to do to save you. In cases like that, a man doesn’t sit and ogle the victim and take pleasure out of watching a nice young girl lie dying. Okay? I respect you too much to do something like that. When are you going to learn that not all men are horrible ogres and rapists? You’ve got to start trusting me. We have a lot ahead of us yet, so quit crying and eat something. You need to get your strength back before we can keep going, and every day we wait, there is a chance our Mr. Jim Fallon will slip away from us.”
She wiped her tears on her blanket. “You want to…know something?”
“What?”
Feeling dizzy again, Callie let her head fall against his shoulder. She could smell him, a mixture of leather and the lingering scent of shaving cream. So, he’d already shaved that morning while she slept. There came a light scent of perspiration, but it wasn’t bad. It was just…manly. Why did that comfort her?
“I wouldn’t care if you…just sat here and held
me…for a little while. I mean…it doesn’t mean anything bad. It would just make me feel better…that’s all. I’ve been so scared this whole time. I just…didn’t want to admit it.”
She felt him smiling, felt his arms come around her more tightly. Lordy, she didn’t want to admit it felt good for any man to hold her. She especially didn’t want any thoughts of love or desire to move into her bones. Maybe this was all just because she was feeling so sick and helpless right now. She wanted to ask him how she looked compared to a woman like Lisa. How did he feel about her compared to Lisa? Was he thinking about that woman now? Missing her? Why did it hurt more than ever to think he might be?
She wanted to lean back and look into his eyes, but he was too damn close. He might get the wrong idea and try to kiss her or something. Besides, if she looked this close into those blue eyes, she might get some wrong ideas. One thing was sure, she was beginning to understand, just a little, some of the reasons why a woman kind of needed a man…and how a woman could learn to trust one, even love one…even…maybe…allow one to kiss her…maybe even touch her…maybe even…
No. That was one thing she could never tolerate. That was one thing that terrified her and always would. She supposed maybe she’d never be a wife and mother then, and because of that, she had to get rid of these funny feelings she had for Christian Mercy. He was just a man she’d hired to find her mother’s killers. Nothing more.
“I think I can eat something now,” she told him. “And if you’ll get me my clothes and turn around, I want to get dressed. I don’t think it’s a good idea, now that I’m better and all, for us to be out here alone with me like this.”
She felt him shake slightly as he chuckled. “I thought you were learning to trust me.”
Maybe it’s myself I don’t trust, she thought. “I am,” she said aloud. “But, well, you’re a man…and you’ve got natural thoughts…thoughts I don’t want you to be having. So bring me my bag that has my clothes in it.”
He sighed, and to Callie’s surprise, he kissed her cheek. “Good to see you back to your old feisty self,” he told her, picking her up then and carrying her to her bedroll, where he set her down. “Sorry for the kiss—just one of friendship.” He gave her a wink and a grin, and Callie felt an unexpected surge of desire rush through her. She hardly knew what to make of it.
“Do you really think about me as a friend?” she asked.
“Sure. We can’t but be anything but friends by now; at least that’s how I hope you think of me, even though I’m a dirty-minded bastard.”
She smiled and looked down. “Sorry about that. I truly do thank you for trying so hard to save my life.”
“No thanks necessary.” He walked away to get her carpetbag, and for the first time in her life she found herself watching a man’s bottom, the way he was built. He’d picked her up as though she weighed two pounds. He didn’t have his hat on today, and that sandy hair of his was a thick mass of gentle waves that were kind of messy yet not bad-looking. She remembered then his comment about why he’d attacked that man a few days ago. Now he’d saved her life, and he’d actually admitted he cared about her, respected her, and wanted her to think of him as her friend. Did he like her even more than that? Why in the world did she kind of wish he did?
“I’ll try hard to be able to leave by tomorrow,” she told him. “Sorry I’ve held things up.”
“Couldn’t be helped. Just don’t push yourself.” He brought the bag over to her. “Once we leave, we can be there the morning of the second day. The horses have had plenty of rest, but we’re about out of water. I’ve had to give them water from the canteens, and I used some to keep you cooled down. We’ve got to reach water by tomorrow before we make camp, so I guess we will have to leave by morning. If you absolutely can’t do it, I’ll have to stow you up someplace and go on ahead to find water; but I don’t like the idea of leaving you behind, not in this country. The men in these parts are more dangerous than that rattler you tangled with.”
But not you, she thought. You’re different, Chris Mercy. “Turn around and I’ll try to dress myself,” she told him. “Start cooking whatever is handy for you. I am actually getting hungry, so I’ll eat anything.”
He nodded. “I’ve got just the thing. I’ll get out the fry pan.” He turned away, and Callie slowly dressed herself, perfectly confident that he wouldn’t look…and he didn’t.
Chapter Twenty-four
“You sure you can ride?”
Callie limped over to where Betsy stood saddled. “I aim to try. We’ve wasted enough time.”
“Want some help getting up?”
“No.” Callie could not quite get over the embarrassment of this whole situation, getting a bit damn close to the fleshiest part of her rear end while squatting to pee, of all things! This man she still felt like she didn’t know all that well putting his lips on her to suck out the venom, undressing her, seeing her naked. He’d done and said everything he could to make her feel better about it, but she just couldn’t quite get rid of the humiliation of the whole thing. If she just would have looked before she squatted. She sure would from now on, that was sure!
She put her left foot in the stirrup, but pain tore through her right hip when she tried to mount up, and she groaned and laid her head against the saddle. The next thing she knew, strong arms came around her waist and lifted her. Chris set her in the saddle.
“When are you going to learn to ask for and accept help?” he asked. “You wouldn’t even have let me help you after that snakebite if you hadn’t been so sick.”
Callie grimaced with pain. “I didn’t ask you to come out here and nurse me along like a helpless kid. I can fend for myself.”
Chris mounted up. “I am perfectly aware of that. You’ve pulled more than your share so far, so quit worrying what I might think of your abilities. I already told you I liked the way you handled that son of a bitch back at Hole-in-the-Wall. And you ride as well as any man, know everything you need to know about horses, and you’ve camped out under the stars every night without complaining about a thing. And if I had been the one snakebit, you would have been nursing me along like I’ve been doing you. So quit trying to prove to me how well you can handle yourself, and quit apologizing for being in pain.”
“Yes, sir.”
“One more thing.”
“Yes, sir?”
“There’s a saying in these parts that takes some serious thought.”
“What’s that?”
He grinned. “Look before you squat.”
Callie blushed and looked away. Chris picked up the reins to the packhorse and mules and headed out, riding Breeze today. Still embarrassed, Callie followed, eyeing his broad, firm shoulders, remembering the way he’d held her, seeming to understand her need. What had his wife been like? She still wasn’t sure if he had a child, alive or dead. She was so full of questions but too afraid to ask them, considering his reaction the other times she’d touched on those subjects.
Riding Betsy only made her hip hurt more, but she followed silently, determined not to do any more complaining. This was the third day since her snakebite, and it was vital they reach water today, tomorrow at the latest. She’d spent most of yesterday sleeping, but once when she woke up she caught Chris reading something called Shakespeare. She’d asked him to read some to her, and he read beautifully, unlike the way she’d ever heard anyone read. Neither of her parents were very well schooled, and they had taught her more about numbers than reading, but she thought she could read pretty well until she heard Chris read, using words she never would have been able to pronounce, reading some poems that would have made no sense to her, but the way he read them, she could understand them.
Listening to him read only accented to her just how educated he was, and she tried to picture him wearing a suit, maybe a white ruffled shirt, looking handsome and spiffy in the world he came from, a world that apparently had included money. He must have been quite the gentleman, and she guessed his wife was probably r
ich and beautiful, a far cry from Miss California Hobbs.
She looked down at her hands, which showed a few calluses, her fingernails ten different lengths and needing a good scrubbing. And there she sat, wearing a boy’s denim pants and a boy’s shirt and leather vest, her old boots having long ago lost their shine. Her floppy leather hat covered hair that needed washing. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d prettied herself up for anything, but now, of a sudden, she wanted to look pretty, fix her hair nice, put on a dress, show Chris Mercy just what a lady she really could be.
Even so, the mess she was, he’d said more than once that she was pretty. Was he just teasing her? Just trying to make her feel better? She watched him light a cigarette, then winced as she urged Betsy into a slightly faster trot to catch up so she could ride beside him.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Not if it’s personal.”
“I don’t think it is.”
He glanced at her. “Ask away, then.”
“Well, do you think you could teach me to read good as you do?”
He grinned. “As well as I do. Remember what I told you about adverbs and adjectives? You’re describing how I read. That’s a verb. So you use the word well to describe it.”
“Heck, I’ve never heard words like adverbs and adjectives. My ma just opened a book one day and started teaching me the words. I just kind of memorized what some words look like. Mostly she read to me from the Bible, but she had a couple other books, the kind they use in schools to teach little kids. But I’ve never heard anything as pretty as what you read yesterday. I mean, I know I already told you all of that, but I can’t quit thinking about it, about how nice it would be to be able to read like that.”
“Well, I can teach you a little here and there, depending on how this trip goes. But what you really need is some formal schooling. Maybe when we get back to Rawlins I can look into sending you somewhere in the East. I could pay for it.”
“I’d never let you do that. I’d rather you taught me.”
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