As soft as thistledown, she was flat on the ground. She frowned. She’d have much rather had Asa’s lips than the cold dirt.
She flailed out with her hand. “Asa?”
“Right here.” Her fingers were wrapped in a rough, warm palm.
“My father didn’t kill my mother.”
A kiss as gentle as a breeze brushed her cheek. “I heard.”
“Save the kissing for later, young man.” That gruff voice could only belong to Doc. For a moment, a shadow blocked the painful light of the sun. She moaned with relief.
“Hello, Doc.”
“How are you doing, Elizabeth?”
“Where’s Asa?”
“Stuck like glue to that spot beside you, but that doesn’t answer my question,” he said in his usual gruff manner.
“My head hurts, but at least my ears have stopped ringing.”
‘Well, then, I’d say things are looking up.” She heard a rasping sound. It was familiar from her youth. He was opening his medical bag.
“No vile medicines,” she ordered as he picked up her wrist to feel her pulse.
Doc’s “We’ll see” was congenial. It overshadowed Asa’s “You’ll take whatever Doc says you’ll take.”
“Leave my patient alone,” Doc ordered, “or I’ll make you go wait a block south of here.”
No more commands were forthcoming from Asa, but she heard dirt shuffle beneath his boots as he stood. Elizabeth smiled, imagining indignation drove him to his feet.
“Does anything hurt besides your head?” Doc asked as he probed the side of her skull.
“My shoulder from where I fell.”
His touch on her head, though gentle, hurt like the devil and she winced.
“Hurt?”
“Yessss,” she hissed.
“I’m not surprised,” Doc answered, moving his fingers down her neck, manipulating gently. “That bullet creased you good, but I don’t think there’s any permanent damage.”
“Then why hasn’t she opened her eyes?” Asa demanded.
“I imagine she has quite a headache and the sun is hurting her eyes.” Doc’s fingers reached her collarbone. “No,” he warned. “Don’t tense up.”
His fingers slid down her arm, straightening it as his knee pressed on her chest. Before she realized what he was doing, he snapped her shoulder back into the socket. The scream ripped from her throat as the pain tore through her.
Doc’s apology coincided with Asa’s “Jesus!”
“That’s better now, isn’t it?” Doc asked before shouting, “Someone catch that man!”
Elizabeth opened her eyes to see Asa being lowered into a sitting position by Cougar.
Doc shook his head. “It’s always the tough ones.”
He shifted so his body blocked the sun from her eyes. Unfortunately, he also blocked her view of Asa. All she could see was Doc’s grizzled silhouette with his fly-away hair sticking out all over.
“What?” she croaked in response to the question in his eyes.
“I hope you aren’t counting on him when it’s time to deliver your babies.”
She hadn’t thought about it, but now that she had, she realized she was. “Why?”
Doc shrugged. “He won’t be much use to you if he passes out every time you make a little noise.”
“Asa fainted?”
“Got a bit weak in the knees.”
“Asa?” She couldn’t believe it.
Doc smiled. “Yup.”
As if conjured by his name, Asa appeared around Doc to kneel beside her. He was as white as a ghost. “I’m sorry, darlin’.”
“For what?” She experimented with her good arm. It didn’t hurt when she moved it, so she placed it against his mouth.
He kissed her fingers before desperately clenching her hand in his. “For not seeing how Brent and Jimmy were double-teaming.”
“Well, you didn’t and it worked out all right.” She took a breath and cast a glance in the direction of Brent’s body. He hadn’t moved. “Is he dead?”
Asa touched her cheek. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“I never really knew him, did I?”
He silently shook his head.
“None of us did, apparently,” Doc said as he closed his bag.
She bit her lip. “Did I kill him?”
Asa shrugged. Doc pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and walked over to the body. “If you did, you’d have to get behind about thirty other folk.”
Elizabeth winced at the image. Despite all that had happened, she was grateful she didn’t have to bear the guilt of Brent’s death.
Asa stroked her cheek with his fingers as if needing the contact. “No one was too fond of the way he manhandled you.”
“I wasn’t thrilled myself.” She glanced over at Doc. “Can I get out of the dirt now?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Asa immediately slid his arms under her body.
“Handle her easy,” Doc instructed.
It was a totally unnecessary warning. Expensive china hadn’t ever been handled as delicately as she was lifted. She closed her eyes and rested her head against Asa’s broad shoulder.
“Watch her for signs of a concussion,” Doc continued. “Don’t let her sleep or take anything for the pain for twenty-four hours. After that, you can give her one spoon of this powder in a glass of water three times a day.”
She dipped slightly as Asa took the pouch from Doc.
“What about her shoulder?” Asa asked.
“A couple of weeks in a sling and she should be right as rain.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
“Call me if there’s any change, but I don’t expect any complications beyond some stiffening.” He moved ahead of them into the throng of people. “All right, folks, let’s give them a little room.”
Elizabeth opened her eyes to see half the town around them. As Asa cut a path through the crowd, a cheer went up. One unthinking soul slapped Asa on the back, jarring her head. She moaned. Doc whirled on the man.
“Have a care, you fool!”
She closed her eyes and thanked the Lord she didn’t look a fright. Her dignity was about all she had left after being made into a spectacle in front of the whole town.
Asa carried Elizabeth up the street to Millicent’s boarding house. She felt so delicate in his arms. So fragile. God, he’d almost lost her. It took all his concentration to hold her carefully and not press her into his body, to hold her so close, she’d never be in danger again.
“Where are we going?” she asked in a low voice.
“I figured on seeing if Millicent could put us up. You’re in no shape for a ride home.”
“Oh.”
“Do you have any problem with that?”
“No.”
An unreasonable part of him resented her compliance. He sighed, recognizing reaction setting in. He, on the other hand, was itching for a fight. Maybe he’d head over to the saloon later. A man could always find a body there to satisfy such urges.
By the time he got to the front step of the boarding house, Millicent was standing in the doorway. “McKinnely said you were coming,” she said. “I made up the bed in the room next to the back parlor. There’re bandages and such on the dresser.”
“Thanks.” He carefully maneuvered the three steps to the porch. As he drew abreast of Millicent, she clicked her tongue and declared, “Good Lord, honey! The first thing we’ve got to do is get you cleaned up. You look a fright!”
Asa swore under his breath as Elizabeth came alive in his arms, “What?” She turned those big green eyes on him. “You told me I looked beautiful!”
“You do.” He refused to feel guilty. Even blood-streaked and dirty, she was gorgeously, beautifully alive.
She twisted, ignoring his efforts to keep her straight, trying to manage a peek in the hall mirror as they passed. She must have caught a glimpse of her reflection because her hiss of pain exploded into a screech of horror. “You carried me through town loo
king like this?”
“Wasn’t much I could do seeing as how no one stepped forward with a comb.”
The logic of the argument was lost on her. “I asked you if I looked a fright!” She struggled to lift her good arm to straighten her bun. “You said I didn’t.”
“I said you looked beautiful.” He pushed the bedroom door wider with his foot. It was only two steps to the bed. Millicent rushed forward to pull down the covers.
Elizabeth glared at him as he laid her on the smooth white sheets. “You lied to me!”
“No, I didn’t.” He eased her head onto the pillow. Her face was as pale as the sheets. “Could you heat some water so I can clean her up?” he asked Millicent without taking his eyes off Elizabeth, who winced and closed her eyes. No doubt screaming at him wasn’t helping her headache much.
“I’ll do it right away,” Millicent answered, heading for the door. “Give a holler when you get her stripped down and settled. It’ll be ready.”
“Thanks.” He breathed a sigh of relief for her tact. He didn’t need an audience right now, no matter how caring. He needed a moment to get himself together. Maybe then, his hands would stop shaking. Maybe then, he could stop seeing, over and over in his mind, the image of her falling under the roar of gunfire. Maybe then, he could accept she was alive.
He stared at her as she lay, eyes closed, on the bed. The blood on her skin was obscene. He traced the thin path of dark red as it angled behind her ear and down her neck. With his thumb, he rubbed at the smudge. He lingered over the task, not stopping until the smear was gone. He wished he could erase her injuries and all the events preceding them just as easily. Gently nudging her hair away from her wound, he studied it. Nausea churned. One inch lower and she would have been dead.
“I didn’t lie to you, Elizabeth,” he said, knowing she was waiting for him to respond to her accusation. “You looked a fright when Doyle had that gun to your head. You looked a fright when bullets started flying and I couldn’t get to you before his gun went off. You looked damned frightening when you hit the ground and I didn’t know if you were dead or alive.” He rested his forehead against hers and confessed, “But, darlin’, when you were sitting in the dirt, sputtering nonsense about your appearance, you were the most beautiful sight these eyes have ever seen.”
Her hand slid around the base of his neck and she sighed contentedly against his mouth. “You love me.”
“More than anything,” he admitted, shifting so his mouth could mate with hers.
“More than apple pie?” she asked.
The chuckle came from nowhere, catching him by surprise. “Yeah,” he drawled softly. “More than apple pie.”
She rubbed her nose against his. “I’m glad because I love you so much, I’ve been jealous.”
“Of pies?”
“It’s shameful,” she admitted in a voice that said she couldn’t care less. “But I begrudge them your attention.” She ducked her head, and admitted shyly, “You ogle them with such passion.”
He slid his lips to the side of her neck. The swirls of her ear beckoned. “Next time we make love, keep your eyes open,” he whispered, kissing his way from her ear to her cheek. “You’ll see what I feel for apple pie is nothing compared to what I feel for you.”
She shuddered and then groaned.
“Your head?” he asked.
“I’m sorry. I’m not up to playing right now.”
Guilt hammered him anew. First, he got her shot, and now, he was rutting on her rather than getting her settled to recuperate. “Hell, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m a little shook up right now and not thinking straight.”
She caught his hand as he pulled back. “I love you.”
If the words hadn’t held him spellbound, the fierceness with which she said them would have. There was no doubt she was serious. When Elizabeth did something, she went whole hog.
“You sure you want to be saying that?” he asked. “As husbands go, I’m not doing much to polish my image. First, I get you shot, and then I can’t even follow Doctor’s orders.”
“You did not get me shot.”
“I should have seen it coming.”
“And I should have had enough sense not to stand next to a man I suspected of attempted murder.”
“You shouldn’t have been there in the first place.” He started unbuttoning her dress. “As soon as I get this dress off you, we’re going to have a talk about your obedience.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I followed your orders perfectly.”
He paused and looked into her eyes. The smile he didn’t see on her face rested lightly in their green depths. “Uh-huh.”
He eased her up to slide the dress down her back. He broke into a sweat as he worked it off her right shoulder. To distract her from the pain he was likely causing, he asked, “How do you figure that?”
“You told me that, if I continued to deal with Aaron, I ought to pack protection against snake bite.” She shrugged her left shoulder. “I just transferred your advice to Jimmy, then Brent.”
“And that little pea-shooter was the best protection you could come up with?” He finally managed to get her right arm free.
She smiled and played with the hair at the nape of his neck. “It was the only one that fit in my reticule.” She tugged and he looked up. Straight into her love-soft smile. “You can breathe, Asa. You’re not hurting me.”
He shook his head and admitted wryly, “I don’t know if I’m ever going to breathe steady again after this afternoon.”
“You’d better.”
“How so?”
“Because I want you there when our babies are born.”
She wanted babies with him. The thought made him smile. Sure enough, their kids would be terrors. He pictured a toddler with his mother’s red hair playing at her feet as she sat on the porch. He pictured her belly round with another child. He imagined her face and saw it soft with contentment. He couldn’t wait. He put his hand on her belly, cupping it low where his child would someday rest. He looked up and realized he didn’t have to wait to see the contentment.
“I promise to do my best, darlin’,” he drawled.
“You’ll do fine, Asa.”
Guilt ate at him. There was something they had to get straight between them. “Sometimes I think you’re looking for a hero and, darlin’, I sure fall short of that mark.”
She cupped his cheek in her hand. “Who needs a hero?” She lifted her left shoulder in a dismissing shrug. “All they’re good for is swooping in sporadically and whaling on the bad guys.”
On the pretext of sliding her dress off, he avoided her eyes. God, he wanted to be a hero for her. He wanted to move mountains. He wanted to wrap her in cotton-wool. He wanted to stand between her and all comers. He wanted it so badly, it gnawed at his gut like poison. “I’m not ever going to be a hero, Elizabeth.”
She pulled his gaze to hers with a tug on the hair on the back of his neck. “I don’t need a hero, Asa. I can handle bad guys on my own.” Her good hand smoothed his eyebrows. “What I do need is someone who makes me laugh. Who likes me. Someone who’s gentle and loving. Someone who sets me free and laughs with delight when I fly.” She stroked her hand down his face until her thumb rested on his lips. With three fiercely spoken words, she made mincemeat of his uncertainty. “I need you.”
He kissed her then, wildly, trying to express without words how much she meant to him, because there simply weren’t any. She was everything—past, present, future, hope and promise—all rolled into one. She took his kiss and all the emotion he poured into it and gave it back tenfold.
It wasn’t enough. She gasped for breath and he let her go, raining kisses on her cheeks, eyes and nose. She slid her leg over his, turning half on her side. He helped her ease her injured arm into a comfortable position against his chest. As her head settled into the hollow of his shoulder, he whispered, “I love you.” He couldn’t seem to say it enough.
“I love you, too.�
�
She nuzzled her nose into his shoulder. Her eyelashes tickled his skin as she blinked. Her hand fumbled for his at his side. She squeezed it tightly and said, “Welcome home, Asa.”
He remembered his prayer that day he lay broken and bleeding in the alley. Just a hurt kid, aching for a home. He remembered his desperate prayer to belong. He remembered the promise he’d made and received. He bent and kissed the top of Elizabeth’s head. He squeezed her arm gently with his fingers, looked up at the ceiling and blinked rapidly.
It was funny how promises lingered. Now, not only did he belong, but he was loved, from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, by a woman who didn’t have an infant’s grasp of what it meant to do anything by half measures. He was home at last and there seemed to be only one thing to say.
“Thank you.”
Promises Linger (Promise Series) Page 38
