“It’s out,” she murmured, still staring into the ashes inside the cold stove.
She’d stalled, stuck by the problem. She wasn’t cold enough to probably be in danger, now that they were indoors in the warmth. But she obviously wasn’t back to herself yet.
She hesitated. He could see her almost arguing with herself. Worrying that she couldn’t do it. Did she remember that she had helped her family pet deliver pups? Or had she reverted back to her timid, uncertain behavior?
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said easily. “I’ll start supper if you start the fire. I don’t know about you, but my stomach is rumbling.”
She watched him, eyes narrowing slightly. And then she seemed to come to a decision and nodded.
He found makings for fried ham and potatoes and watched her from the corner of his eye as he peeled and chopped the potatoes. She worked slowly and muttered to herself but soon had the fire going and fed it larger pieces of kindling until she finally put two large chunks of wood in.
“Done,” she said quietly as she pushed up from her crouch.
He settled in in front of the stove, his pan clanging against the stovetop, the ham sizzling when he dropped it in after the pan had gotten nice and hot.
When the food was almost ready and the room had warmed around them, he asked, “You mind if I stay in and eat with you before I head back out into that blizzard?”
“Please.”
He nodded, inordinately happy that she wanted to spend a little more time with him.
“You want to set the table?”
“All right.”
The familiar clink of silverware and plates hitting the table reminded him of home. He missed the big noisy family suppers, his brothers joshing around and jostling for the food, someone always coming or going.
Daisy left for a few minutes to light the hearth fire in the parlor, to warm up the rest of the house. When she came back, he was conscious of her watching him from the doorway.
“You’re familiar in the kitchen,” she said.
“Yeah. My pa raised us boys without a wife until Penny came along. We all got pretty comfortable in the kitchen.
“What about you? You like to cook?” he asked.
“I used to. Now everything is...difficult. Slower.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t do it,” he said.
She was quiet. Didn’t argue with him. He could only hope she was thinking of the successes she’d had tonight.
Hours later, lying in his bunk in the silence with Ned and Beau still likely out at the line shack, he couldn’t stop thinking about what it had felt like when he’d held her close to him as they’d made their way through the blizzard to the house.
It hadn’t been pure friendship, that was for sure.
He’d felt like her protector.
The feeling was unfamiliar. Uncomfortable, like wearing boots a size too small.
In his past, he’d destroyed every relationship he’d touched. He wasn’t sure he could protect her from himself, not if they grew too attached to each other.
What was he going to do?
He wished he could talk to one of his older brothers or his pa. Sure, they were ornery and made trouble when they all got together in a big group, but he trusted their advice.
He didn’t want to hurt Daisy any more than he already had by causing the accident that had incapacitated her.
It felt a little like playing with fire, being her friend when she didn’t know his part in what had transpired. But if he backed away now, when she was finally starting to build some confidence in herself, would it tear down all the positive things she’d started to experience?
*
Daisy huddled beneath her bedcovers, her knees tucked up to her chest. She watched the snow fall outside her bedroom window and prayed for her family’s safety. Surely they would’ve stayed in town until the storm passed. Her father would recognize the danger.
She was alone in the house, curled in her quilt, but she wasn’t afraid. If she needed help, she could count on the cowboy sleeping out in the barn.
Her braid had slipped over her shoulder, and in the dark the auburn tresses looked near-black against the white of her nightgown. She couldn’t resist reaching up and touching the end of the braid. Remembering his hands in her hair.
Being with him in the kitchen had been different than being with Audra. He wasn’t combative. His presence eased her.
He’d asked her to do the tasks she could accomplish, like lighting the fire, and he didn’t expect more of her.
Something about him settled her.
She had to keep her heart uninvolved. He wanted to be friends. He’d told her as much.
If she came to depend on him too much, she could be hurt if he left the ranch. And she couldn’t imagine anything about herself that would keep a man like Ricky interested in her.
But she needed a friend. And he was here.
Chapter Nine
The storm had stopped in the night, leaving behind a crisp, white blanket of snow and the illusion of stillness.
It seemed as if Ricky was the only one up and around, the only one stirring as he shoveled snow between the house and barn. Except for the fragrant smoke from the chimney that made him aware that Daisy was inside. Knowing she was there, close, had him smiling to himself.
His hat shaded his eyes from the worst of it, but he still found himself squinting in the sun’s brightness reflecting off all the cover of white.
He’d taken care of the animals first. Now, midmorning, he was almost done with his shoveled pathway when the Richards family came up the drive in the sleigh, the horses’ breaths puffing out before them and harnesses jingling.
He was sweating beneath his coat from the backbreaking work, glad to take a break and stable the horses as the family rushed inside to warm up. He’d just finished and gone back to his shoveling when Ned and Beau finally rode in, moving faster than was really safe—there was no way to see what was beneath the snowdrifts and the horse could easily step in a covered hole and get injured.
As they got closer, he saw the pain etched on Beau’s face. Ned was a little behind and as he closed in on the barn, Ricky saw that the older man had his teeth gritted.
“What happened?” Ricky asked, moving quickly to lean the shovel against the barn. He met Beau’s animal and took the reins, waiting for his friend to dismount.
“Got caught out in it,” Beau said. He didn’t seem to have full use of his hands, gasping softly as he almost fell off the horse.
Ricky steadied his friend with a hand at his elbow. Beau’s jacket rattled—it was frozen! Quickly, Ricky looped the reins over the animal’s back and slapped its posterior to send it into the barn. It moved slowly, too, just like the man. What had happened?
“We missed the shack by about a hundred yards,” Ned grumbled as he drew up. “Spent the night out in the elements.”
Ricky did the same for the foreman, holding his horse and sending it into the barn. Worry tensed his shoulders. It had been well below freezing last night, and he vividly remembered the disorienting snow. Beau’s lethargic response could mean something was very wrong with his friend.
Both the men’s noses were white at the tips. Ned’s coat was covered in snow and ice, as well. Beau couldn’t use his hands. Could they have frostbite?
Ricky’s concern for his friend had him hauling the younger man bodily toward the house. “Let’s get you inside.”
Ned followed them, and the fact that he didn’t brush off Ricky’s help led him to believe the older man was just as bad off—he didn’t like to be coddled by his nieces. Ricky had witnessed his determination on several earlier occasions.
In the kitchen, the smell of hot, fresh coffee greeted them. At the counter, Belinda was pulling together lunch onto several plates when the three of them shuffled inside.
“What—”
“These two were out in the cold,” Ricky explained before Beau could get all embarrassed or Ned could downplay
it. “Likely they’ve got a case of frostbite. We need to help ’em.”
“Oh, my!” Belinda exclaimed.
“What is it?” Audra came into the kitchen from the parlor, pushing her hair back off her face with her wrist. She looked exhausted, a little pale. “The boys are lying down—I’m a little worried.”
“What’s wrong with the boys?” asked Ned.
“Some stomach bug. They started feeling off about halfway home.” Audra tried to smile, then seemed to realize something was wrong with all three cowboys in the kitchen.
“Frostbite,” Ricky explained.
She understood without him having to say more. “Come into the parlor. It’s warmer in there.”
She ushered them in, Ricky still helping Beau. The other man seemed tipsy, off balance, out of it.
“Ma!” a weak cry came from upstairs.
Audra glanced that way. “I’m going to have my hands full with the twins. I’ll send Daisy down.”
“Good idea,” Ricky said.
The older woman met his gaze and held it for a moment before she nodded briefly.
Ricky settled Beau on the sofa. It was far enough from the fireplace that he could get warm but not overheated.
Belinda came rushing in from the kitchen. “Sit down, Uncle Ned,” she ordered. She toted two bowls and a pitcher with her.
There was movement on the stairs, in the hallway, and Daisy came around the corner, carrying blankets.
“Let me help,” Belinda huffed, abandoning her uncle momentarily. The older man had finally settled into one of the parlor chairs.
After distributing the blankets, Daisy came to Ricky’s side. Perfect. She could tend to Beau.
He ignored the pang in his stomach, imagining her soft hand brushing the cowboy’s hair off his forehead. He flipped the blanket around Beau’s shoulders, focusing on the task at hand.
“This happened to one of my brothers,” Ricky said. “Coupla years ago. We don’t want their extremities to get too warm, too fast.” He used a towel to chafe Beau’s hands, hoping to restore some warmth. “We’ll need to bathe them in ice water first, then cool water, then warm. Take it in stages, like.”
The girls ran to the kitchen, their shoes clattering against the plank floors in their hurry. They returned quickly, Daisy bringing washcloths and Belinda carting two more bowls. She put one at Beau’s feet, and Ricky saw it was full of water and a few chunks of ice.
Ricky helped Beau pull his boots and socks off. Beau’s fingers and toes were white but not the swollen red or blue that indicated danger. They shouldn’t need a doctor, he hoped.
“What happened?” Daisy asked softly as she tended to the cowboy.
Ricky rocked back on his heels, then moved to help Belinda, who was having trouble getting Ned’s boots off.
He was still close enough to hear Beau’s soft-spoken answer. “Got caught out in it. Missed the line shack and it was snowing so thick we couldn’t find it.”
Ricky got Ned’s boots off and started peeling the old man’s socks off, revealing feet that hadn’t been cared for well—and toes as white as the other cowboy’s.
“Hurt?” Ricky asked.
Ned grunted.
Ricky couldn’t help glancing back to see Daisy using a cloth to bathe his friend’s nose. The cowboy’s cheeks were cherry red.
A knife of pain sliced through his midsection, and he had to remind himself that this was what he wanted—Daisy and Beau getting closer.
“Do you think coffee would help?” Belinda asked, twisting her hands nervously.
Come to notice, she was a little pale, as well. There were footsteps and movement above stairs. How sick were the twins? Could Belinda have caught something, too?
“I’ll go pour some,” said the younger sister as she loped off toward the kitchen and disappeared.
“I see you lookin’ at my niece,” Ned said.
“What?” Ricky jerked back to what he was doing, grabbing a rag and dipping it into the icy bowl of water before applying it to Ned’s toes.
The older man gasped.
“I seen you looking at Daisy,” he said through gritted teeth. Thankfully, not loud enough that Daisy could hear.
Ricky glanced over his shoulder to see her still immersed in caring for Beau.
“You ain’t good enough for my niece,” the old man growled under his breath.
The muscles in Ricky’s shoulders knotted. He knew Ned spoke the truth. With his past, he definitely was beneath her notice. And Ned didn’t even know about his part in causing the accident.
But something about Ricky’s personality, when someone told him he couldn’t—couldn’t have something, couldn’t achieve something—it made him want to prove them wrong.
He tried to remember the feelings he’d had last night, the desire to protect her. That’s what he needed to think about. What was best for Daisy. And it sure wasn’t him.
“You hear what I said?” Ned rumbled, this time loud enough that Daisy’s head came up.
“Yeah,” Ricky answered, gritting his own teeth.
As soon as Belinda came back, bearing two hot mugs of coffee, Ricky stood and stormed past her, all the way out of the house.
*
Daisy felt it when Ricky left. She hadn’t been able to hear what he and Uncle Ned were talking about, but he’d seemed angry when he’d rushed past Belinda and out of the house. His face had been flushed, eyes downcast.
What could Uncle Ned have said to make him react like that? Her uncle was overprotective. Perhaps she should tell her uncle how they’d decided to be friends. Maybe that would ease his mind.
But for now, she had a duty to help the young cowboy. Audra hadn’t given her a chance to get out of the duty, even if Daisy had wanted one. Which she hadn’t. Uncle Ned was family, and Beau worked for them—the Richards clan took care of their own.
“Any better?” she asked the young man as she put the rag back in the bowl. It had been over a quarter of an hour. Surely it was time to change to slightly warmer water in the bowl. But the cowboy’s skin was still cold when she touched the back of his hand.
“A little, miss.”
And the lines of pain around his mouth hadn’t eased up any.
She shivered, imagining them out in the cold without any shelter. She was grateful Ricky had taken precautions last night to ensure they wouldn’t get lost when they’d come in from the barn.
“It came on fast, didn’t it?” she said, trying to distract him from the pain, if a little. “Ricky and I had gone out to the barn to check on Matilda—she had four puppies—and a short time later we couldn’t see up to the house.”
“Four pups?”
“All black, just like their mama.”
She decided the water needed changing and stood, then carefully grabbed hold of the bowl with her arm. “I’ll be right back.”
She passed Belinda in the narrow hallway. Her sister had been peaked since the family had returned home from town. They’d stayed overnight in the church with several other families who had been displaced temporarily by the storm. Daisy was thankful for their safety.
Passing the morning in the ranch house alone had been...different. She’d had no one to help stoke the fires before bed, so she’d had to do it. No one to pour her a glass of water—she only spilled a bit, not the whole glass this time. She’d had to struggle into her nightclothes alone, and had left Ricky’s braid in.
She’d managed on her own. Without help.
After the small successes yesterday and being able to help Beau this morning, she was feeling slightly more confident about herself.
It couldn’t be because of a certain cowboy...and his smile, could it?
When she’d exchanged her icy water for slightly warmer tepid water and returned to the parlor, she found Belinda had abandoned Uncle Ned for the younger cowboy.
The young man was blushing and stammering, and Belinda was chattering in her charming way. Daisy hid a smile by ducking her chin into her shoulder a
s she passed them. If she was any judge of character, she’d say the cowboy was smitten with her sister.
But Belinda had been finding her feet with friends from town—male friends—and might just be practicing her flirtation.
Maybe she should talk to her sister. Or...what if Audra overheard and stuck her nose in it, as she’d done trying to push Daisy out of the house? That could cause friction between the sisters... Was it worth it?
*
Ricky missed his brothers.
Especially now, just at this moment, when he wanted to pound out his frustration at what Ned had said to him.
The old Ricky would’ve rushed into town, straight to the saloon. Drowned his upset in a bottle. Maybe gotten into a brawl.
That wasn’t a choice for him anymore.
First he cared for the men’s horses. Just because he was upset and angry, the animals shouldn’t suffer.
Then he climbed into the part of the loft that was left for hay storage and began unstacking and restacking the bales of hay. The mindless, physical activity allowed him to vent his frustration.
He knew what Ned said was true. Daisy deserved way better than him.
He wasn’t looking to court her, in any case. Didn’t have anything to offer her.
But something inside him rebelled at the thought of Beau having her.
He left off the task and started on the evening chores, making sure the horses were settled for the night, and checked on Matilda and her pups.
Finally, as the sun was setting and streaking the sky with orange and pink, he started up toward the house to check on the other cowboys. The cold air cooled his temper—some.
Daisy met him at the back door, backlit by lamplight, hair haloed in gold.
“Where’s everybody?” he asked, surprised to find things so quiet. If not the twins, Belinda or someone was usually around.
“Lying down.” Daisy’s lips were pinched, and he read the worry in her expression.
He’d intended only to stick his head in the back door and check on the two men, but now came into the kitchen proper, closing the door softly behind him.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Daisy’s fist clenched at her side. “They’re sick. All of them. My papa, Audra, the boys, Belinda.”
A Cowboy for Christmas (Mills & Boon Love Inspired Historical) (Wyoming Legacy - Book 5) Page 10
