As if her brother could read her mind, he lifted Abby’s hand to his lips. “Mom is watching over you, Sissy.”
She gave Nick a dazzling smile. She loved the childhood nickname he had given her.
Nick stood and headed for the door, anxious to get his day started. “See you at lunch.”
It was odd. Nick’s blond hair and green eyes, which he inherited from their father, was such a contrast to her. She definitely did not resemble her mother. Petite and thin with coffee, brown hair and eyes, Martha had been pretty, but Abby did not resemble her in the least. Instead, she had auburn, hair and deep, blue eyes. Mother said she got her unusual hair and eyes from her grandmother.
Abby shoved her plate away even though she only ate a small portion. She did not have time to lounge at the table. Tons of work awaited and no one would do it for her. Quickly, she washed the dishes and tidied the kitchen before she read her devotion for the day.
The beautiful spring day beckoned Abby to do her churning outside on the porch. From the porch Abby could view her early garden of cabbage and potatoes. Her mouth watered just thinking of new potatoes. Last year’s crop of potatoes had been finished off a month ago and she could hardly wait to have fresh vegetables again. As soon as she finished churning the cream into butter, she would plant corn and tomatoes in the empty rows Nick made for her.
As she churned the cream, she peered across the horizon and watched the sun rising over the trees. She lifted her face and let the rays from the huge orange sun warm her. Spring was her favorite time of year, lush and green, the beginning of new life. A flock of geese honked loudly as they flew overhead drawing Abby’s attention. They were in perfect V formation, their destination, the Tar River near Tarboro, which was to the south of their farm.
Surprised when she saw Nick and her father approaching the house, she stood and shaded her eyes from the sun. It was at least three hours before lunch and they never left the fields until it was time to eat. Abby ran out to meet them when she saw her father leading a horse with someone draped over the saddle. “What happened, Nick?”
“We found him unconscious by the road. He has been shot.”
Abby held the door as her father and Nick struggled with their heavy burden. The man was muscular and dead weight, so it was difficult to carry him.
Out of breath, her father ordered, “Boil some water and sterilize a knife, Abby.” Curious, Abby’s eyes were drawn to the stranger. “We’ll put him in your bed, Nick and you’ll bunk with me until he is up and about. That is if he survives. It looks as if he’s lost a lot of blood. He is in God’s hands now.”
By the time Abby entered carrying the water, clean towels, and knife, her father and Nick had stripped the man of his bloody clothes. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Abby examined his chest wound. Her voice slightly breathless, she replied, “Father, I think we should get a doctor. It looks pretty serious to me.”
Jacob Henley barked, “It would take too long. He needs medical attention now. Besides, if it is God’s will, the man will survive. A doctor will not make a difference.”
Transfixed by the stranger’s full sensuous mouth, Abby fought the urge to touch him. His looks were positively mesmerizing. Never had she seen a more handsome man. She tried to focus on the chore before her so she looked away from his face only to notice his physique just as impressive. Broad of shoulder, wide chest, and sculpted muscles tapered to a lean waist. There her view ended because the sheet covered his lower body. Her hands shook as she cleaned the blood from the stranger’s wound, only to have more seep from the opening, making it difficult to see how deep the bullet penetrated.
“Nick, will you please help me.” Nick leaned over Abby. “Hold the cloth under his wound while I remove the bullet. There is too much blood.”
As Abby probed for the bullet, the stranger began to thrash his arms. It took both Jacob and Nick to hold him down so Abby could soak up the blood and dig for the bullet. His whole body was wet from sweat by the time Abby held the bullet in her hand. She dropped the mangled piece of metal into a pan on the table by the bed.
Weakness was taking its toil by the time she bandaged his wound. Covered in blood, she swiped the back of her arm across her forehead to remove the beads of perspiration only to leave a trail of blood across her brow.
Abby moved toward the door intending to wash away the blood when her father stopped her. “We must pray for the man. Come Abby.” Obediently, she kneeled with her father and Nick by the bed as they prayed for the stranger. She cupped her bloody hands together and prayed for the handsome man to survive.
Jacob and Nick returned to the fields after lunch, leaving Abby alone with the stranger. Her hands trembled as she washed the blood from his body. Extremely pale from loss of blood, Abby wondered if he would survive. At least he had strength on his side. It took all the power her father and Nick could summon to hold him down.
Warmth spread through Abby as she touched his skin with the wet cloth. What was wrong with her? In all her eighteen years she had never before felt such feelings. The impulse to peek under the sheet and see the rest of him was strong. Afraid God would punish her for her lustful thoughts, Abby tried to think of her chores, her studies, anything but the man lying in Nick’s bed. Nothing worked. He was just too handsome and masculine. Her heart was about to beat out of her chest from being this close to him. Abby’s hands moved quickly over the stranger’s skin in her haste to finish the chore. Her cheeks flushed, she felt as if she were running a temperature by the time she stood to leave Nick’s room.
Glancing down at his magnificent face, she wondered why someone shot him. Father had put away the guns he had worn around his waist, calling them the devil’s tools. Was he a gunslinger, bounty hunter, or did he wear the guns for another reason? It didn’t matter. The moment he was well father, would insist he leave.
****
Two days passed and the stranger was still unconscious. His breathing was not as shallow, but he was still very pale. Abby knew if he did not regain consciousness by tomorrow, he would probably die. The thought of him not surviving tore at her heart.
As she changed the bandage by the light of the lantern, she glanced up into intense eyes, so dark they were almost black. She imagined his eyes would be amazing, especially when the rest of him was perfect. Her heart stampeding in her chest, she tried to keep her hands steady. A heated flush came swiftly to her cheeks.
His voice gravelly from dryness, he whispered, “Who are you?”
Shock registered on Abby’s face when she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She snapped her mouth shut, and bolted for the door to fetch her father.
In a few seconds Jacob stood in the doorway. “We wondered if you would survive, son. It was God’s will to spare you.” Jacob moved to the bed and raised his hand to shake the stranger’s. “Jacob Henley.”
The man swallowed hard, and whispered as he weakly shook Jacob’s hand, “Cord Sutton.”
“My daughter, Abby, will prepare you something to eat. Nourishment is what you need to regain your strength.”
From the doorway, Abby watched Cord try to lift his head off the pillow but fell back immediately gasping for breath. “How did I get here?”
“We found you by the road near our corn field. You had been shot in the chest. Two more inches to the left and you would be six foot under.” Cord looked down at the bandage wrapped around his chest. “Abby removed the bullet and has been nursing you back to health.”
Even through the pain, she saw his look of gratitude. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“It is what God demands of us. As soon as you are better, you can be on your way.”
Her father crossed the room and tucked his arm into hers. “Come along, Abby. You need to prepare our guest something to eat.”
Entering with a tray, Abby sat it down on the table by the bed. She could feel his eyes watching her as she rearranged the items on the tray with shaky hands. Gorgeous brown eyes met her gaze causing
her to feel warm all over.
His voice no more than a whisper, he replied, “Water, please.” Abby held the glass for him as he gulped down several swallows. With a weak smile, Cord replied, “Thank you.” He tried to lift the spoon but was just too weak. His whisper was so fragile she barely heard it. “You don’t mind feeding me do you, Abby?”
The way he said her name caused her heart to skip a beat. She lifted the spoon to his mouth and watched as he closed his full lips over the spoon. “You’re a good cook. This is the best soup I have tasted.” Abby gave him an owlish look. “Do you speak?”
Her cheeks became bright red and hot as she snapped, “Of course I speak.”
When he smiled showing all those big white teeth, Abby thought she would swoon. He reminded her of sin, dark, mysterious, and dangerous. His beautiful smile actually stole her breath.
“Thank you for removing the bullet.” Abby wanted to ask him who shot him, but knew she should not be bold. Her hand trembled as she brought the spoon up to his mouth. She watched as some dribbled down his strong chin. Wiping it away quickly, Abby tried to calm her frayed nerves.
Thick dark brows drew together. “Do I make you nervous?”
“No, I’m just not used to…” Abby was going to say not use to someone so handsome, but shut her mouth before she finished her sentence. The man had her so tongue-tied, she feared what she would say next. Not accustomed to someone looking at her boldly had her feeling a little shy.
Abby jumped when she heard her father’s angry voice from the doorway. “I’ll finish feeding him, Abby. You go to bed.”
Grateful for a reason to leave, Abby hurried from the room. She could feel his eyes boring into her back as she scurried for the door.
Before Jacob could lift the spoon to Cord’s lips, he replied softly, “I feel better. I’ll feed myself.”
Jacob put the spoon down and answered, “Suit yourself, young man.” Moving to the chair, Jacob waited until Cord finished eating before speaking. “Do you know who shot you?”
“Yes.”
Jacob’s tone was brusque. “If you will divulge the person’s name, I will give it to the sheriff in town.”
“No need. When I am on my feet again, I will take care of it. It is my business.”
With a dramatic sweep of his hand, Jacob admonished, “Vengeance is mine, says the Lord. You should leave the matter in God’s hands.”
“I appreciate you and your daughter putting me up for a few days, and I will pay you for the inconvenience. But I will not discuss my business with you.” Still weak, Cord had no intention of arguing with Jacob.
“It is none of my concern as long as you do not endanger Abby or my son Nick. I don’t want your evil deeds on my doorstep.”
“I promise the men who shot me are long gone. They think I am dead and will no longer be tracking them. They would not risk staying around and having to answer questions to the sheriff.” Jacob nodded his head and stood to leave. “Where are my guns?”
“They are in the bureau. Your rifle is in the barn with your saddle. I ask that you leave them there until you are healthy enough to leave.” Jacob turned when he opened the door and looked back over his shoulder at Cord. “Young man, I know not what you did before you were injured, but while you are in my home I ask that you conduct yourself in a Godly manner.”
****
Three days in bed had Cord in a rotten mood. It didn’t help his situation knowing Jacob did not want him there. Over and over in his head he kept hearing Jacob’s holier than thou voice, “Vengeance is mine, says the Lord.” Oh, how he wanted to do a little quoting from the Bible himself, “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.”
The moment he recuperated he would be on his way. The room seemed to brighten when Abby flounced in and sat the tray with his breakfast on the side table.
“I thought you might like something more substantial to eat.” Cord’s stomach rumbled when he smelled the bacon and eggs. Moving the tray to his lap, Abby asked, “Do you need me to feed you or do you think you are strong enough?” Abby placed her hand on his forehead. “Your color is much better today, and you’re not running a fever.”
He took a deep breath to calm his racing pulse. A tendril of hair had fallen from her much too tight bun and he wanted to touch it. It would feel wonderful to remove the pins and run his fingers through that glorious chestnut hair. She was much too beautiful and sweet to be the daughter of Jacob Henley. He knew he should control his lust. The girl and her father saved his life and he was thinking of ways to seduce the young woman. Apparently, she was an innocent, which means off limits in his book. A woman like her would expect marriage and he was definitely not looking to be tied down. He needed to think with his head, not his lower extremities. Even in her simple dress and bun she looked elegant. And that hair, he would love to see it cascading free and flowing down her back.
He shook his head trying to get the image from his mind. “I feel much stronger thanks to you. I think I can feed myself.” Abby swirled around intending to leave. Cord watched the sway of her luscious hips as she sashayed across the room. Before she disappeared through the door, he pleaded, “Please sit and keep me company. Lying in bed all day is getting pretty boring.”
Cord saw the irritation on her face. Of course she had chores, but his selfish side didn’t want her to leave. Slowly, she moved to the chair and sat down keeping her eyes downcast. “Have you always lived on this small farm?”
“Yes, I was born here.” Cord knew he made her nervous because her voice shook and she refused to lift her eyes.
“You are a great cook, Abby.” Cord scooped some eggs onto his fork. “Whatever you put in these eggs to give them flavor is delicious.”
Her eyes lifted and he met her gaze. “Thank you. Now if you don’t mind I need to get back to my chores.”
When Abby stood to take the tray, he grabbed her hand. Calluses covered her hands causing him to feel sorry for her. Life on a farm was hard work and her hands proved it. It was evident she worked from morning until night.
Cord heard her gasp when she tried to pull away but he held her small hand tighter. Inhaling her scent, Cord thought of sugar cookies. She smelled of vanilla. “I know you are busy, but I would love a shave. Do you think you can oblige me by ridding me of these whiskers?” He ran his hand over the stiff hair on his jaw. “I’d be mighty appreciative.”
Abby paled. “I don’t think that would be proper. My brother Nick will shave you tonight after supper.” Abby jerked her hand out of his grasp.
“Please, Abby. I would feel much better without these whiskers. They are uncomfortable and making me itchy.” To prove his point, Cord scraped his knuckles over his cheek again.
Abby snapped, “I have enough to do around here without having to look after you. I don’t have time to shave you.” Abby stomped over to his saddle bag Nick had placed on the floor. She rummaged through until she found his razor and sat it on the table. Leaving the room, she returned in minutes with soap and a pan of hot water.
“If you can’t wait, shave yourself.” Cord sat staring at the razor realizing he was much too weak to shave himself. Abby let out a loud breath, snatched the soap, and began to lather it in her hands. The moment her hands touched his face, her cheeks flushed with warmth. His eyes never left her exquisite face as she gently stroked the razor along his cheek.
“I take it you’ve done this before?”
Her eyes softened. “Yes, my father was laid up with a back injury once and I shaved him.” Her hand trembled as she stroked the razor over his neck, trying to be careful not to cut him.
Most women with auburn hair had freckles, but her skin was perfection. Even though her dress was homemade and demure, it did little to hide her curvy figure. He closed his eyes and sniffed. Vanilla, there was that scent again. Cord realized she dabbed her neck with vanilla as if it were perfume. He fought the urge to lick her neck.
At that moment Abby peered into his eyes, and her face went up in flam
es. Cord could tell by her expression she knew he was having carnal thoughts. None too gently she wiped the excess soap from his face, gathered the soap, pan, and his razor. She scrambled for the door in her haste to get away from him.
When her hand touched the knob, Cord whispered in his sexiest voice, “Thank you, Abby. I feel much better.” Only hesitating a second, she bounded through the door without speaking.
****
It took almost an hour for Abby to calm down. What was wrong with her? Cord had her tied in knots. She did not understand why the man affected her so. How was she to withstand those dark eyes and the feelings he was evoking? Pots and pans banged as she took her frustration out on the dirty breakfast dishes. She would have to stay away from him, that was all there was to it. He would be leaving as soon as he recuperated.
The image of what life would be like if she married him stole into her thoughts. She wanted a husband and children, a home of her own. It was absolutely ludicrous fantasizing about marrying a man in which she knows nothing. For all she knew, he could be a bank robber or a murderer. A man like him would not dream of settling down with a plain, old farm girl. She might as well get that notion out of her head. No matter how much she tried to focus on her chores, Cord’s handsome face kept intruding.
Other books by Teresa Greene
The Harris Trilogy:
Desperate
The Shadow
Sultry Texas Nights
McDonald &Sutton Families:
Love Me Again
Wildflowers
The Painted Rock
Savage Secret
The Twelve Oaks Farm Series:
Whispers of the Falls
Shadows of the Falls
Secrets of the Falls
Blood of the Falls
About The Author:
When Teresa Greene is not writing, she loves to spend time with her family. She loves to ride her ATV through the trails near her country home with her husband and three beautiful granddaughters Lilly, Kara, and Sadie. Pets are also a big part of her life. She has a dog named Scrub, a cat named Slick, a one named Jellybean.
Blood of the Falls (Twelve Oaks Farm Book 4) Page 27
