Brazos Bride

by Caroline Clemmons

  Hope shook her head. “I cannot leave him. He saved my life or he would not have been hurt.” She collapsed onto a chair nearby. Her cheeks heated as the two men peeled away Micah’s dungarees and shirt.

  Maria carried in a pail of steaming water. “The aunts, they say bring this when Señor was in his bed.”

  Both aunts bustled in laden with their medicine box and supplies.

  The maid bobbed a curtsy to the aunts. “The doctor, he will arrive soon.”

  “We can’t be certain of that, Maria.” Maggie set her supplies on the washstand. “And that wound needs cleaning now.”

  Lizzie dipped up some water and used it to soak a cloth. “Zach, pull the sheet up to hide Micah’s nakedness. Don’t know if he’d care if he’s exposed for all the world to see, but it’s offends my sensibilities.”

  Grateful Lizzie had voiced her thoughts, Hope stood and met Zach’s gaze. “Perhaps you would move this chair beside the bed so I can be near Micah.”

  Zach moved the sturdy wingback and gently escorted her to sit there. Hope clasped her husband’s hand while the aunts tended his head wound from the bed’s other side.

  Maggie shaved a strip of hair around the angry, long gash. “He’ll likely have a scar, but the bullet didn’t gouge into the skull.”

  Hope was sorry she’d looked, but she couldn’t help herself. “Poor Micah, his hair is so nice. Shaving it away is a shame.”

  Maggie barely glanced up from her duties. “He does have nice hair, but don’t worry. It’ll grow back in no time. Now, Hope dear, you just lean back in the chair and hold his hand. You look near to passing out and we’ve doctored much worse than this in our lives, haven’t we, Sister?”

  Lizzie said, “My, yes. Hope, I said you can’t keep a Stone down and it’s true. Micah will likely be up and out on the range in a couple of days.”

  Ten minutes later, Dr. Ross hurried into Micah’s room, panting from exertion.

  “When your man arrived, I feared it was you who needed me, Miss Hope.” Dr. Ross opened his satchel and rummaged inside. “Hard to believe you were strong enough to ride your horse.”

  “I grow stronger each day, Doctor Ross. But someone shot at me, and my husband saved me by throwing himself in front of me.”

  Doc shook his head as he set about treating Micah’s wounds. “Surely no one would shoot at you. Perhaps the person aimed at Mr. Stone here and he misunderstood.” He frowned. “Lotta people still think he killed your father.” His words left no doubt that he was one who believed Micah guilty.

  Zach opened his mouth to speak, but Hope cut him off.

  Furious at the unjust accusation, Hope snapped, “My husband did not shoot my father, and a jury cleared Micah’s name.” Hope sent the doctor what she hoped was a searing glare. “Someone aimed at me, otherwise the bullet would not have hit Micah when he protected me.”

  Doc shook his head again. “That’s neither here nor there.” He looked up. “Fine job of patching this man up.”

  Frowning, Zach said, “Our aunts always do nice work.”

  Hope thought Zach remained angry with the doctor for his careless comments about Micah. So did she. Why couldn’t people realize what a fine man was Micah?

  “I’ll stitch this part on the side. Have a scar, but his hair will likely cover it.” Dr. Ross set to work and nodded at Zach. “You hold his head so he doesn’t move.”

  Zach held Micah’s head motionless while Hope gripped his hands in hers. Micah groaned with each stitch. His body stiffened and he fought to pull free. She was losing the battle to prevent him from pulling away. Lizzie stood beside Hope and added her weight to still Micah’s hands. When Doc finished, Micah collapsed against the mattress.

  Doctor Ross wrapped the soiled instruments in a cloth, then stuffed them into his medical bag. “Reckon he’ll sleep for a while now. Rouse him to give him broth then water every hour so that bump on the head doesn’t send him into a coma.”

  “When will he awaken fully?” Hope asked.

  “Can’t say. Young fella like him, in good health, likely tomorrow. Probably be up and around the next day.”

  Lizzie nodded. “See, Hope dear, didn’t Maggie and I tell you it’s impossible to keep a Stone down?”

  Maybe so, but Hope remembered that Micah’s dad had died prematurely. Who knew what happened to other family members? She kept her doubts to herself in case Micah heard what was said.

  Keeping one of Micah’s hands in hers, she gestured to the others. “It is late and this has been a terrible day. I hear riders returning. You should all go to bed now. Aunts, you must rest, but please send Maria with broth and a pitcher of water.”

  Zach speared her with an assessing look. “You need to go to bed too. Joel and I will take turns sitting with our brother.”

  “No. He is injured because of me. I will sit with my husband. You rest so that tomorrow you can find whoever did this.” Her face must have sent her message that she meant her words.

  Zach shrugged. “Joel and I’ll just be down the hall if you need either of us.” He hesitated, then added, “Least you could do is stretch out beside Micah so your body can rest.”

  Could she? She didn’t think so. “Perhaps I will. Later. After he has had broth and water and has fallen back asleep.”

  After the others left, Hope placed her head on the bed while keeping Micah’s hand cradled in hers. How foolish she’d been to think her plan would prevent more violence. He’d warned her, but she hadn’t realized the cost. He could have died because of her selfishness.

  She should not have involved Micah in her scheme. Ramona and Theresa would have helped her come up with an alternate strategy. She simply wasn’t accustomed to relying on others. She’d thought she would be better off forming her own plans. Too late now, for she couldn’t change her current situation.

  Dios mio, what am I to do?

  A soft rap preceded Maria’s entry with Joel carrying the tray. “Señora, we have brought warm beef broth and cool water for the Señor.”

  “Thank you. Will you help me with his pillows so he can swallow?”

  She, Joel, and Maria eased more pillows under Micah’s head, and Hope spooned warm broth slowly into his mouth. At first, he appeared to have difficulty swallowing, but soon all the broth was gone.

  Leaning back in her chair, Hope set the bowl on the tray. “That is all for tonight, Maria. When you wake in the morning, please bring another bowl for him.” When Maria hesitated, Hope said, “I am all right. Go to bed. If I need help, I will ask one of my new brothers.”

  Hope searched out Joel’s gaze. “You too must sleep. Tomorrow you must be alert to find the one who did this. Go, I will come for you or Zach if I need help.”

  Joel peered at her and then at his youngest brother. “Yep, that’s probably gonna be best. I’ll leave you my pocket watch so you know when to awaken him. G’night, little sister.”

  Hope set the watch on the bedside table near her. She kept Micah’s hand in hers until time to wake him. How her body begged for rest. Only her fear for Micah kept her awake.

  She cradled his head, careful not to bump either injury. “Micah, drink a little water.”

  He turned his head away, but she used the cup to force his chin toward her. “You must wake enough to drink this. Dr. Ross insisted.”

  Micah’s eyes remained closed, but she trickled water slowly into his mouth. His throat convulsed and he swallowed. When he’d consumed half the cup, he turned his head away. This time, she let him rest.

  An hour later, she repeated the process. He drank more than before. When she returned to her vigil, she took his hand in hers. Fatigue turned her bones to lead. Maybe if she rested her head against the bed near his arm, she would recover some energy. Surely no one could fault her for merely leaning against the mattress. By the time she needed to wake Micah again, she would be refreshed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Joel slept fitfully and waked as the downstairs clock chimed midnight. Pale moonlight fi
ltered through his window in the silent house. He slid into his britches and crept into Micah’s room. Both nurse and patient slept soundly.

  For only a second, he debated his course. Should he let both of them sleep while he kept watch? Should he scoot Hope beside Micah where she belonged? Aw, hell, what a situation. Decision made, he strode toward the bed.

  He scooped Hope into his arms and walked toward the passage between Micah’s and her rooms.

  She gasped, fighting for release. “Put me down.”

  He tightened his grip. “Relax, it’s just me. You’re done in, little sister. You’re going to your room and sleep in your bed.”

  “I will do no such thing. Micah needs me.”

  Hell, that was an understatement, but no use telling her that. “He needs someone, but Zach and I will take turns. You won’t help him by giving yourself a relapse.” Carrying her, he used the passageway between Micah’s room and hers.

  She slumped against him. “I give you my word I tried to remain awake. I could not, not even for the man who saved my life.”

  “Your husband, Hope. He’s your husband, and he would gladly give his life to save yours. Don’t waste the gift he’s given you.”

  She raised her head and searched his face. He didn’t suppose she liked what she saw there, especially not if she read his mind.

  “You are mad at me, are you not? Mad because I fell asleep?”

  “I didn’t expect you to keep watch. You’re the one who insisted. But no more. You need rest, and rest is what you’ll have.” He set her on her bed. Stupid thing, her and Micah having different beds, no matter what kind of marriage they shared.

  She slid to her feet. “I must stay with Micah.”

  He stood in front of her and crossed his arms. “Either you climb between those covers and go to sleep or I’ll raise the house. Do you want your servants and my sweet aunts roused at this hour?”

  Her eyes widened. “B-But I said I would sit with him. He’s my husband.”

  “That he is, and you’d do well to remember that fact. But he’s my brother and I’ve done my share of taking care of him since he was born. I can do it for a while longer.” Wouldn’t have to after they caught the killer, not if she’d realize what a fine husband she had. Then Joel would know his youngest brother was all set up in life and there’d only be Zach to see settled and happy.

  She twisted her hands together. “Well...”

  He saw her judging him, and figured she wondered if he’d really stir the household. Damned if he wouldn’t call her bluff if she pushed him. “You get into that bed now or I’ll bellow for Maria to help you. The noise will bring everyone.”

  “I am going.” She sat in a chair and reached for the buttonhook, but she didn’t unfasten her shoes. She eyed him warily.

  He pointed a finger at her when what he wanted was to whup her backside for not returning Micah’s love. “I’ll be back in five minutes to check. You’d better be in bed or I’m raising a ruckus.

  She glared at him. “Go on then,” she snapped. “I will prepare for bed.” She undid her shoes so roughly it was a wonder she didn’t damage them.

  Let her fume. He was in no mood to pamper her other than keeping her safe. She was his concern only because she was important to his brother. So she’d had a sad life, so what? “Lots of people had. They didn’t go around taking advantage of lovesick men who had more principles than common sense.

  Joel returned to Micah’s side. He poured a cup of water and forced Micah to drink.

  When he opened his eyes, Micah frowned. “Hope?”

  “Sent her to bed. She was all give out.”

  “Good. Needs rest.”

  “She wanted to stay with you, but I made her go to bed. You know how good I am at giving orders.”

  Micah smiled and closed his eyes. In seconds he’d dropped back into dreams.

  Joel watched his baby brother. Sure, Micah was a man now, but still five years younger, and would always hold a special place in his heart. Zach might be the peacemaker, but Micah threw himself intently into every task. Joel worried his brother would burn himself out. So much drive and passion stored up, enough for any two normal men. If Hope couldn’t see that, she was a fool.

  Reclaiming his pocket watch, Joel checked the time before moving to the balcony door. Wisps of cloud hid most of the moon. Nothing stirred, but a coyote howled in the distance. He’d howl too if it would help this crazy situation.

  He returned to Hope’s room, still mad that she didn’t share his brother’s bed. He opened the door, and saw she slept soundly so he turned and went back to Micah’s room.

  Where the hell were the missing cattle? Who had shot at Micah and poisoned Hope? Other than preventing Micah’s hanging, damned if they’d made any progress since he and Zach arrived in this godforsaken town. All that’d happened to move things along was this hoax marriage. Even if things didn’t work out between his brother and Hope, at least Micah gained more land and much needed cash, and their cattle had water.

  But damn, all of that would taste like sawdust to Micah if he lost Hope.

  Chapter Twenty

  Micah opened his eyes reluctantly, cursing morning. Must be time to get up. Hell of a headache. Damn, what had he done to deserve the pounding in his brain? Slowly, memories surfaced.

  The rifle barrel aiming between the boulders.

  Throwing himself in front of Hope.

  Eduardo riding up.

  Hope sitting beside the bed clasping his hand.

  Joel and Zach making him drink water.

  Micah turned his head toward the soft breath fanning his cheek. Hope slept snuggled against his body, her head next to his on the pillow. When he tried to roll to his side to watch her, she opened her eyes.

  He smiled. “For a minute there, angel, I thought maybe I’d died and gone to heaven.”

  She placed a finger on his lips. “Do not even joke of such a thing. You lost so much blood, I thought we would lose you.”

  Grateful she didn’t leap up, he kept his grin. “Takes more than a knock on the head to kill a Stone.”

  She returned his smile. “That is what las tias told me. I am glad they spoke the truth.” Her fingers locked with his. “I grew too tired to keep watch the first night, so Joel sent me to bed while he and Zach took turns. I insisted I would care for you yesterday and this night. They said I could keep watch last night only if I would lie beside you and rest.”

  He’d have to thank his brothers, but he noticed she wasn’t under the covers with him. A light blanket covered her. “Joel and Zach catch the gunman?”

  She rose on her elbow. “No. They searched the first evening and all yesterday, but it grew dark and they lost the trail. They will go again this morning.” She looked toward the window. “Soon, I think.”

  He eased his hand free from hers and slid his arm around her shoulders. “Mighty nice waking up like this.”

  “It was not nice watching you unconscious. You should have awakened yesterday, but you kept falling asleep again. If you did not come to this morning, we were going to send for Dr. Ross.”

  But she let him tug her back against his shoulder. “Worth getting shot to have you next to me.” Damn, he probably shouldn’t have said that. He didn’t want her getting all skittish and jumping off the bed.

  “I must ring for Maria to bring you hot broth for breakfast.” She started to rise.

  He pulled her back. “Reckon she’ll be up here on her own soon enough. I like having just you and me here. We don’t get time much alone.” None would be correct, except for their short ride.

  He sensed her relax against his side. “What happed to my head? Feels like a blacksmith is hammering horseshoes in there.”

  “Do you not remember? We explained yesterday.”

  “Reckon my thinking is muddled. I get flashes, but it doesn’t make sense.”

  “First, Doctor Ross sewed up your scalp where the bullet gouged. He admitted the aunts had already done a fine job treatin
g your injuries.”

  “Must account for the headache.” He raised his hand to his head. “Hurts like a sonofab...gun.” His probing fingers found the knot on the back of his head. “Dang, there’s a goose egg back there.”

  “When you passed out, your head hit a stone. The doctor said a blow only a tiny bit lower would have killed you.” She leaned on her elbow and a grin tugged the corners of her mouth upward. “Zach disagreed. He said you are too hard-headed to die from a head injury.” She sobered. “Oh, I was so frightened! Zach only tried to lessen my fear.”

  He gently tugged her beside him. “True, though. All us boys been hit on the head more times than we can count. Naturally thick skulls, I reckon, so don’t you worry. We’re a hardy lot.”

  Her hand blazed a trail where it rested on his chest. As she spoke, her fingers twirled his chest hairs. He knew she wasn’t teasing, didn’t realize the effect her touch created. He stilled, willing her to remain beside him, touching him. He bent the leg nearest her to prevent her noticing the result of her touch.

  He hadn’t lied. This moment of heaven, of having his dreams at least partly realized, was worth being shot. If she never shared his bed again, she was here beside him for this instant.

  He caressed her arms, then turned her face upward and leaned to brush his lips against hers. “That’s a proper good morning.”

  “Then I shall remember to greet Joel and Zach the same way.” Sparkles of mischief shone in her beautiful eyes.

  “No, you won’t. Not unless you want me to shoot my own brothers.” How wonderful to see laughter shining in her eyes! She had looked near death when they wed, and already healing had begun.

  “Were you not afraid you would encounter your brothers in the War?” She gasped, “Forgive me, I should not have asked.”

  “For however long, you’re my wife and have every right.” He exhaled at the pain her question aroused. “Running into them was my greatest fear. I thank God we fought in different states.”