“Chicken’s good.” A twinkle glimmered in his emeralds, sending a flood of warmth through Leah’s chest.
“Thank you.” She held his gaze for a moment longer, until he dropped his to the chicken and began eating again.
Leah turned her attention to Miriam as the girl spoke. “So, Gid, how many cows are left to calve?”
“Five.” His response was quick and certain. He’d obviously been keeping a tally.
“Do you have any new calves right now?” News about the stock always fascinated Leah. She hoped one day she would be able to see the animals.
“There’s a couple that are a few weeks old. Both females.”
“Is that good or bad?” The fact he’d called out the gender must be important.
“Good. We keep the females to grow the herd. Bull calves have to be sold off eventually.”
Interesting. In a world where women were considered not as important as men, the females of the cattle species were more desired than males.
The meal finished not long after, and Leah rose to stack the dirty dishes. Miriam combined the food scraps into a plate for Drifter. She whistled as she carried the plate across the room to his usual corner, and the dog jumped up from his perch beside Gideon’s chair, padding eagerly toward his dinner.
Instead of heading to finish the chores in the barn, Gideon remained seated, sipping coffee thoughtfully.
Leah kept an eye on him as she worked, wondering at his unusual behavior. “Can I refill your cup?”
Her question seemed to break through his trance, and he set the mug on the table. “Sure.”
Leah went to the stove for the pot, but felt his stare follow her as she hobbled. The hard boards still strapped to her leg kept her gait stiff.
She didn’t use the crutch in the kitchen anymore, but found she could limp around in the small space without wearing out her leg too quickly. As she poured the steamy liquid into Gideon’s mug, he watched the dark brew rise up the sides of the light brown pottery.
“I think it’s about time to take the splint off your leg.”
Leah’s eyes flew to his face, surprise stealing her attention. He didn’t meet her gaze, but something tugged at the pot in her hands. Looking down, she found Gideon taking the handle from her, coffee overflowing from his mug to form a wide black circle on the wood table. Oh no.
“I’m so sorry.” She allowed Gideon to take the coffee pot while she wiped the mess with a rag from the table. Heat crawled up her neck, but she kept her attention on her work.
When the spill was cleaned, she reached to take the pot from Gideon’s hands. He didn’t release it. Reluctantly, she raised her head to see if he was angry.
It wasn’t anger that darkened his face, but amusement. His dark green eyes danced and his lips pursed, rising on his left side to create the most gorgeous dimple. Her insides melted just a bit. My goodness, he was handsome.
Before she lost herself, Leah took a step back. She needed to say something. Just then, her mind remembered the words that had brought on this little mess to begin with. Leah blinked, trying to clear the fog from her mind.
“You think I should remove the splint, then?”
“Yep.” Gideon kept the dimple in his left cheek, as if he knew she was struggling to keep herself composed.
Leah released a slow breath. “All right, I’ll do it tonight.”
He shook his head, raising the full mug to his lips. “I need to take a look at it before we cut all the bandages, make sure the bones have joined the way they should.”
The thought of his attentions sent a skitter of apprehension through her. Slowly, she nodded. Gideon seemed to know what he was doing, and Miriam had said he was the next best thing to a doctor when it came to broken bones.
Gideon nodded as well, then set his mug on the table and rose from his chair. The matter seemed to be settled in his mind.
Chapter Twenty-One
After the chores were complete, Leah found herself seated on the floor of the main room, the hem of her dress pulled up just enough to reveal the splint on her right leg. Miriam crouched on one side and Gideon’s large form kneeled on the other. If Emily could see her now, she would be appalled. A man allowed to see not only Leah’s ankle, but her entire lower leg.
There didn’t seem to be another option, though. She would have to think of him as a doctor. That wasn’t too hard to do as he removed a large knife from the pouch at his hip and carefully sliced through the outer strips of fabric. When the wood fell away from her leg, relief flooded the area where the sticks had rubbed.
Then he began to unwrap the bandage that covered her skin, and Leah found her eyes drifting to Gideon’s face. His focus was intense as he studied her leg where the cloth had been. Twin lines formed between his dark brows, and her fingers itched to smooth the pucker. A shadow of stubble had grown on his face. The distinct line across his cheeks had softened, the pale skin across his jaw having turned golden.
Just then, he turned to look at her. She’d been caught staring. Heat flushed her cheeks, but he was kind enough not to react.
“From the outside, it looks like the bone healed well. You should go easy on it for a few days until it gets used to carrying weight without the splint. And use both crutches again.”
Leah couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose at that suggestion. As happy as she’d been to receive them, and as thankful as she was for the freedom they’d given her early on, she couldn’t wait until she never had to look at the encumbering sticks again.
“If you put too much weight on the bone too soon, you’ll risk a permanent limp, or even another break.”
The impact of his words settled over Leah like a sobering cloak. She nodded, and Gideon rose to his feet, sheathing the knife. While Miriam gathered the sticks and dirty bandages, Leah flipped her skirt over her toes and slowly flexed her foot. The muscles burned, but it seemed to be more from disuse than the sharp ache of the broken bone.
Miriam and Gideon stood on either side to help her to her feet, then Miriam handed Leah the crutches. Leah gave them both as bright a smile as she could muster through the sting in her leg. “Thank you so much for your help. My leg feels much better now.”
Gideon eyed her with a wary expression, as if he knew her words were an act.
“I think I’ll take my leave for the night. We’ve had a busy day.” Leah was ready to escape to her room where she could rest without having to maintain a strong front. It had been a trying day, first with the chicken lesson and now with the renewed pain in her leg.
Miriam scurried forward to give Leah a hug. “G’night, Leah. Sleep well.”
Leah balanced the crutches at the crook of her arms as she squeezed her friend back, noticing Gideon watching them both. His expression was hard to read, almost a mixture of yearning and reserve, as if he were holding himself back from something he desperately wanted.
As she leaned back from Miriam’s hug, Leah glanced at Gideon again and found he had turned away. She gripped her crutches and hobbled toward her room. “Goodnight all,” she called over her shoulder.
~
A few weeks later, Gideon found himself riding toward the barn earlier in the evening than usual. A newborn calf lay across his legs, its head rocking with the rhythm of the horse’s gait. Every so often, the calf would offer a sad bleat, as if mourning the fate of its mother, who had abandoned it into this cold, scary world.
He rubbed the animal’s soft neck. “It’ll be all right, girl. We’re goin’ to a place where they’ll take good care of you.”
Poor little thing. The birth had been hard, with the calf turned the wrong direction and coming out tail-first. His pulse kicked up a notch, remembering the struggle as he and the mama had fought to bring the calf into this new environment. It took a couple of hours, which had been more than the mama could handle. She’d died shortly after the little fighter stood to her feet, leaving Gideon to care for her offspring.
He hoped Leah and Miriam would be willing to take
over, since they would be close to the barn during the day. As many times as Leah had asked to ride down to see the herd and the new calves, she would probably be excited to help care for the little heifer. For a city girl, she certainly had taken to ranch life. He still couldn’t believe she’d plucked and cleaned that chicken, although it hadn’t escaped him she’d not taken a bite of it. Still, she didn’t complain.
For now, the most important thing was to get some milk in this calf. The mama had not been strong enough to stand and nurse, so the little one hadn’t had a good meal yet.
As he rode into the ranch yard, he spotted Leah in the garden, holding a very full apron in both hands. She was regal, even covered in dirt with her hair falling in tendrils around her face. He headed that direction, and as soon as she saw him, she dumped her load at the edge of the garden and hobbled in his direction. The stubborn girl had stopped using the crutches, even though the bone probably still gave her pain when she walked.
As she neared, her pretty face lit like a lantern in a dark barn.
“You brought us a calf?” Wonder filled her voice.
He nodded. “She had a hard birthing and the mama didn’t make it. I brought her up here so we can feed her until she’s weaned.”
A shadow crossed Leah’s face when he mentioned the birth, but faded away as she reached to stroke the calf’s velvety face. Its tongue snaked out to catch her wrist and Leah smiled like a child given a new toy.
He could have sat there all day and watched that smile, but the calf was already weakening. It needed nourishment soon or it would meet the same fate as its mother.
“I need to get her to the barn and feed her. Have you skimmed the milk from this morning yet?”
Leah’s gaze lifted from the cow to his face, as her other hand drifted up to shade her eyes from the glare of the sun. Her face, always so easy to read, showed her mind turning as she tried to understand the reason behind his question.
“No, we were letting the cream rise to make butter.”
He nodded, “Fine. Can you stir it good and bring me half of what’s there? You can let the rest separate again. We’ll need to split out half of Bethany’s milk for this little girl for a while.” He patted the soft shoulder in his lap.
Leah nodded, giving the heifer a final rub before moving toward the cabin. “I’ll bring it to the barn.”
By the time he had the calf settled in a stall and the saddle stripped from his horse, Leah and Miriam had made it to the barn with the half bucket of milk. Miri set it down and squealed softly when she saw the calf, then eased into the stall with her palm outstretched. The little one was wobbly on its feet, but at least it was standing.
Gideon grabbed the bucket handle and slipped into the stall next to his sister, leaving Leah to watch from the open gate. He kneeled in front of the calf, dipped his index and middle fingers in the milk, and then held them in front of the cow’s nose. She sniffed for a second, and nosed his fingers, pushing them away in the process. He dipped them in the milk again, then prodded the calf’s lips, slipping his fingers into her mouth. His fingers tingled as she sucked once—a good start. Once she got used to the sucking motion, he would draw her head down to the milk in the bucket and help her learn to drink.
“Can I try?” It was Leah’s rich voice, drifting to him from just behind his right shoulder, not outside the stall where he’d left her. She stepped beside him and kneeled, only slightly awkward with her weak leg.
Without waiting for his response, Leah dipped her fingers in the bucket of milk and held her index and middle fingers out to the calf, the same way he had done. She’d been paying attention. The calf began to suck her milk-laced fingers, eliciting a soft giggle from the woman beside him. But she didn’t pull back.
Gideon picked up the bucket by the base and held it toward the calf with both hands. “See if you can draw her mouth down into the milk.”
The calf continued to suck as Leah lowered her hand into the bucket. But just before the little nose touched milk, it broke suction. Leah dipped her finger in the milk and tried again. This time, the calf’s nose dipped into the liquid and it came up sputtering and blowing. Its long tongue reached out to lick the white film from its wet nose.
“Try it again,” Gideon said, but Leah was already dipping her fingers in the milk. She had natural instinct around the animals, and seemed to enjoy them, if the enraptured expression on her face was any sign.
This time the calf continued to suck Leah’s fingers even after its mouth dipped into the milk.
“Good,” Gideon coached, keeping his voice hushed. “Now see if you can gradually pull your fingers out of her mouth and let her keep drinking the milk.”
Leah moved slowly, and the trick worked like a charm. She withdrew her fingers from the milk, but the calf continued to drink, gulping like a dying man at an oasis in the desert.
Leah sat back on her heels, releasing a satisfied sigh. Gideon couldn’t help but watch the woman, the view of her much more captivating than the new calf before them. Her hair was a rich caramel in the dim light of the barn, with several layers falling from their pins in loose waves on her neck and shoulders. The features on her face were fine, straight and proportioned almost perfectly. Feminine, but not fragile. Her cheeks were tinted pink, probably from the excitement of the moment.
She turned then, and he felt himself falling into the depths of her green gaze. Her eyes were windows, displaying her innermost thoughts. In them was vulnerability…and something else. Trust? Before he could be sure, she dropped her gaze, a deeper red suffusing her cheeks. His hands itched to touch her face, so soft and inviting. He would raise her chin for another look through that window. For some reason, he wanted to know what this woman thought. How she felt about this place…about her life…about him.
A stirring in the hay behind them brought Gideon’s attention back to his surroundings. Miriam. He’d forgotten she was standing there. If she’d noticed his ogling, he was sure to hear about it later.
He turned back to the calf and found Leah scratching behind its ear, the same way she rubbed Drifter. The little animal had its neck stretched out, relishing the bliss of the massage. He couldn’t help but smile at the picture they made. If she’d been raised out west and not in some fine eastern city, she would have made a good rancher’s wife.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Leah dragged the bucket up the porch stairs, hanging onto the rail to aid her efforts. This was her punishment for stuffing all the produce into a single bucket instead of making multiple trips. If only her right leg wasn’t so weak.
She limped into the cabin, leaning hard to balance the weight of her load. Once inside, she allowed the bucket to clatter to the floor while she stopped to remove her coat and hang it on the peg. With the close of September coming soon, the temperatures had begun to drop, requiring a coat most days.
“Looks like there was a lot left to pick.” Miriam’s voice carried from the rocking chair near the fire, the chair that had been her mother’s. Leah knew from past conversations that it was one of Miriam’s most prized possessions.
“Yes, quite a few green beans, some corn, and a couple of tomatoes.” Leah puffed out a breath with her bottom lip extended, sending the flyaway hairs around her face blowing in all directions. “I got everything, though. The corn stalks are turning brown, so I think that might be the last of it this year.”
Leah picked up the bucket again and hauled it awkwardly toward the kitchen, placing it next to the work counter with a thud. She stopped to catch her breath, and finally released a sigh. She turned to stare across the room where Miriam was working. “Miri, do you think I’ll always have this limp?”
Miriam looked up, and Leah could see her raised eyebrows even from where she stood. “Don’t be silly.” A smile laced her voice. “I know it was painful, but the bone was only broken in one place. Soon it’ll be completely well.”
Her frustration softened. Miriam always knew how to cheer her up. Leah hobbled across
the room to visit with her friend for a minute. A break might help her aching leg, as well.
She settled in her usual ladder-back chair, stretching her right leg in front of her. “What are you working on?”
Miriam looked up from the needle as she pulled it through a piece of flexible brown leather. “Gideon’s buckskins.” Her focus dropped back to her work, seeking out the next stitch. “I didn’t get them mended last winter, so I’d better get it done before the first snow or Gideon will have my head.” A smile touched her features, revealing she wasn’t too concerned about the probability of that coming to pass.
“What does he use them for?” Leah leaned forward, examining the leather more closely.
Miriam’s hands stopped moving and she looked up sharply, her golden brows rising. “He wears them.” Curiosity took over her face. “Haven’t you seen buckskins before?”
Leah raised her own brows in retort. “Not that I know of.”
“Well then,” Miriam secured the needle and began to shake out the leather, holding it up for Leah to see. “This is what Gideon wears in the winter, especially when the snow hits.” The leather was stitched into a tunic-style shirt. “It’s made from deer skin and is mostly waterproof, plus it’s really insulated. Sometimes the snow can last for weeks up here, so a good set of buckskins can save a man’s life when he’s working outside.”
Leah reached out to finger one of the sleeves. “It’s softer than I expected. Now that I think about it, I saw a couple of men wearing these when I first arrived in Fort Benton.”
Miriam nodded. “Most of the trappers and Indians wear these.”
Leah glanced at the stack of leathers next to the rocking chair. “Can I help?”
“Sure, you’ll have to use my extra glover’s needle for the leather.” She handed Leah another folded leather tunic and a large needle with a triangle-shaped point. “Make sure your stitches are really small like this. Anything farther apart will let out too much body heat at the seams.”
Mountain Dreams Series: Books 1 - 3: Mountain Dreams Box Set 1 Page 15
