“You did the right thing.” It worried her he’d not woken yet, but instead of allowing Josiah to see any reaction, she busied herself going to the medical bag to retrieve her stethoscope. “Do you have a pot to boil water?”
While Josiah went to gather the pot and set it over the fire in the hearth, Olivia lifted Bronson’s head with care. She examined it, feeling for any bumps or cuts. A large knot had formed at the back. She turned to Josiah, who remained by the fireplace. “Come help me roll him onto his side.”
Once they did, she took a closer look. The bump, although rather large, did not bleed. There was substantial, purplish swelling around it, which alarmed her. Josiah looked to the window. “It’s snowing harder. I best get going to let the Coles know what happened. Not sure anyone will be able to come back for at least a couple days.” He walked to a small kitchen area. “There’s coffee and some basics here. You should be all right for a day or so.”
It hadn’t occurred to her that she’d be staying alone with Bronson and she started to protest. It was most inappropriate for a single woman to be alone with a man. Yet at the same time, she was here as a physician and that trumped any social etiquette in her opinion. A bubble of protest came again at remembering how attracted she was to Bronson Cole. But then she looked to her patient and knew there was no choice. “Very well.”
Josiah pulled on his heavy coat and after one last look around the cabin, left.
Olivia disinfected a large syringe in boiling water. She placed clean cloths around the bump on the back of Bronson’s head. It took several tries to finally drain all the blood around the lump. She then cleaned the small cut at his temple, which didn’t bother her as much as the other. Afterwards she placed a bandage around his head covering both wounds.
Once more on his back, she got to work removing his boots and making him comfortable by removing his gun belt and then pulling the blankets over him. She studied his face for a long time. With eyes closed and lips slightly parted, he was like an archangel in repose. The handsome, hard planes of his face softened with slumber. He didn’t appear the usual striking man, but somehow still exuded sensuality.
Her eyes lingered on his lips and she wondered how they’d feel against hers. Would they be soft? Just one touch. She reached toward his mouth only to stop just mere inches away. “What am I doing?” Olivia whispered and turned away from temptation.
Once he woke, she could better ascertain his condition, but for the moment all she could do was wait. She walked to the window and peered out. It was impossible to see much past the glass pane. Thick, fluffy snowflakes fell in quick succession blanketing everything with layers upon more layers. A branch overhead was already bent bearing the weight of its white load.
With the cheerful fire, the cabin was cozy. She eyed a thick blanket thrown over the arm of a chair. “It would make a nice evening if I had a book and a cup of tea,” she mumbled and reached up to her hair to remove the pins holding her long waves in place.
She wondered at the time and figured if she were at home, she’d have joined her parents in the front room and either read or stitched alongside her mother. Pressing her lips together she considered the current situation. The life of a physician always brought something new. And although trying at times, it was fulfilling at the same time.
Olivia moved from the window and once again looked toward Bronson. He’d not stirred.
Taking in the space, she noted the cleanliness. There were a table and four chairs on the left next to the kitchen. In the middle of the cabin was a large fireplace, which at the moment housed a roaring fire thanks to Josiah adding a log prior to leaving. On the right were a large bed and a tall dresser, along with shelves that held various personal effects. Olivia went to them, her gaze lighting on several items before she noticed two tattered books. After picking one up she went to the table and placed it on top, and then she went to make coffee.
Some time later, Bronson moaned and she dropped the book she was reading at once and rushed to him. He’d rolled onto his side and looked around the room with unfocused eyes.
When he tried to sit up, Olivia pushed him to his back. “Not yet, let’s wait a bit. You bumped your head and have been unconscious.” When he shook his head and blinked, she assured him. “You’re safe. Relax.” She touched his pulse. Her fingers pressed against the thudding artery. He was altered, probably confused.
Olivia leaned over him, her face above his. “Look at me. Can you see me clearly?”
“You’ve got freckles on your nose. I never noticed it before.” The corner of his lips lifted at her widened eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“Do you even know where you are?” She straightened, no longer comfortable with the proximity.
He looked around, his brow crinkling. “You ran off with me?”
“Bronson Cole, I did no such thing. You fell and knocked yourself out. I gather you’re fine other than maybe losing some sense.”
With a frown in place he looked about the space. “Doesn’t look familiar.” He gave her a questioning stare, his brows raised in expectation.
“It’s Josiah’s. He’s gone to get word to your parents that you were injured and here with me.”
He scowled, his attention between her and the door. “I don’t believe you. Do you bring unsuspecting patients here often?”
“Would you stop joking, Bronson? This is a serious situation.” She shook her head and came to him and placed her hand on his brow. “You don’t have a fever. How do you feel?”
“Headache.” He grumbled and lifted his hand to the back of his head. “I must have knocked myself out pretty good.”
“You were unconscious for almost four hours. It’s quiet worrisome for someone to be out for that long. I would prefer you not sleep for at least a couple hours.”
“All right.” He went to stand and immediately lost his balance, falling backwards. Olivia rushed to him to ensure he didn’t crumple to the floor. Both tumbled onto the bed, and she landed across his lap while he lay back with his legs hanging over the side.
“Good grief,” Olivia muttered scrambling off of him. “Could you just remain still? You’re too large for me to move if you pass out for the third time.”
“Third?” With hooded eyes, he remained with his bottom half off the bed, not seeming to care about moving to a more comfortable position.
She gave him a droll look. “You passed out when I stitched up your shoulder, remember?” Olivia smoothed her hair back from her flushed face and attempted a calm demeanor. It was hard under his intense scrutiny.
“I dozed off. That’s different.” He took a breath. “My head hurts. I need to sleep for a bit.” His eyes closed.
“No, you don’t,” Olivia tugged his arm and pulled him to sit. “How about we try to see if you can stand without getting dizzy.”
He made it to his feet, then swayed and slumped back to sit on the bed. His head flopped forward onto his chest. She lifted his face. He’d passed out again. His breathing was even and she wondered if he’d passed out from her pulling him to sit or if his head injury was more severe than she expected.
It took her a long time to get him fully on the bed.
She took smelling salts from her bag and placed them under his nose.
Bronson’s eyes popped open. Wide eyes went to her face and he attempted to say something, but instead he groaned. “Let me sleep. I’m tired. My head is pounding. Please, Olivia.”
“Bronson, look at me.” She wiggled fingers in front of his face. “It’s very important that you stay awake. Just for a little while. Can you do that?”
Eyes already closing, he nodded. “I’ll try.”
“Come on. Sit up.” She slipped her arms around his torso and helped him to sit. Once he was sitting, she stuffed pillows and blankets behind his back. Then she sat beside him on the bed. “Tell me about your day. Why were you outside when the snow started falling?”
At first his words were slurred, but as he spoke they became
clearer. “My brothers, Josiah, and I were gatherin’ up the cows. Went to look for stragglers…” His eyes cleared as he listened to her questions about the events leading up to his fall.
“I’m gonna have to get a different horse. Carter is strong, but he’s dumb as a rock. This is the second time I’ve fallen off the damn saddle. It’s embarrassing. My brothers are goin’ to give me a hard time about this.”
Olivia laughed. “I have to say it’s surprising that a cowboy with your experience tumbles twice off a horse.”
“Now you know two secrets about me. I’ve fallen off a horse twice and I’m not too keen on needles.”
When he cringed, she leaned in to get a closer look. “Where exactly does it hurt?”
“In the back.” He pointed to where she’d drained the bump.
“Turn you head.” Olivia removed the bandage and inspected the back of his head. When she touched it, a trickle of blood leaked, some purpling remained, which meant more blood had filled around the lump. But not enough to worry her. When she turned his face to inspect his temple, his startling blue eyes met hers. Olivia swallowed at his close scrutiny.
“I…I don’t see anything to be concerned with. The headache is probably due to the fall. You took two hard hits.” She wrapped his head again and moved away from the bed. “I’ll fix something to eat. Would you like coffee?”
“I’d like to go to the table. Can you come alongside so I don’t fall and bang my head again?”
“Very well, but let’s move slowly.” Olivia came beside him and helped him stand slowly. Once he stood, he placed his arm around her shoulders.
Olivia frowned, as he didn’t seem off balance at all. Unsure of where to place her arm, she wrapped it around his waist and matched his steps toward the table.
He stopped walking and turned to her, his arm still around her shoulders. “I appreciate your help, Olivia.”
Although uncomfortable standing next to him with her arm around his waist, Olivia had to admit his solid body was hard to let go. She looked up at him. He gave her a lopsided grin and something fluttered in her chest. They remained still, both looking at the other, neither moving away.
When Bronson’s gaze flickered to her lips, Olivia held her breath. She swallowed, not able to move away or utter a word.
“I can make it from here.” Bronson dropped his arm and moved out of her embrace. “Thank you.”
Chapter Seven
He didn’t understand what happened. Bronson kept his eyes on the tabletop and attempted to figure out why he’d almost kissed Olivia Dougherty. She was engaged. To Matt Corson. The only reason she was here was in the capacity of a physician.
Of all the stupid things to do. Add this to his list. Once they drank the coffee, he’d get on his horse and hightail it home. It wasn’t so far that he wouldn’t make it. Olivia could stay here if she wished.
Why was she there so late, alone with him, anyway? At the moment, he didn’t trust himself to ask. Not a good idea to look at her, either.
He was not an inexperienced man. Although not as promiscuous as his twin had been until he married, Bronson had no problem attracting his share of women. But in spite of it, he’d rarely courted. Lately, it seemed he was prone to choosing the wrong ones. Olivia Dougherty was just the latest example. She was not a free woman. She was spoken for. What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn’t even blame it on the bump he’d taken, as it seemed to be an ongoing trend.
A cup of coffee was placed in front of him and he took it. His head throbbed and he wondered if she’d give him something to dull the pain.
She seemed to read his thoughts. “I will give you something for pain once you’ve stayed awake a couple more hours. I’m sorry. I see from your scowl that you’re hurting. But it’s too dangerous to allow you to sleep right now.”
“It’s probably for the best that you don’t. I need to head home anyway. Are you staying here or would you like me to escort you to town?”
Olivia lowered to sit in the chair beside his. Her lips curved in a soft smile that drew his attention and lively blue eyes met his. “You can’t go home, Bronson. We’re trapped here for now.”
“Where’s my horse?” He didn’t know why, but his heart began to thump, echoing in his ears. This could not happen. He could not be forced to stay with her alone. Not now. It was imperative for him to leave.
It unnerved him even more when Olivia neared. With the coolness of a physician, she studied him, concentrating on his eyes then looking to the side of his throat where he knew his pulse was thudding.
When she reached to touch him, he steeled for the touch of her soft fingertips on his skin. It was a vain attempt to remain indifferent when they landed on his heated skin and he closed his eyes to keep from making a fool of himself. “I’m fine. Just need to get some fresh air.” Bronson scrambled to his feet and, ignoring the dizzy spell, went to the front door and threw it open. Cold flakes landed on his face, followed by the blast of cold air that hit him full force. The freezing droplets helped him to somewhat regain his composure. How was he going to stay in the house alone with the fetching woman who up until now he’d barely been able to keep at arm’s length?
The pressure of her hand on his shoulder made him tense and she removed it. “Bronson, are you all right? Maybe it’s best that you do sit. Until you can lie down. You seem to be well except for the headache.”
He took a deep breath and turned to face her. The cold air made her cheeks redden. Her hair blew from her face creating an alluring picture. All it took was one step. One step forward and he’d be within reach of her. Close enough bring her against him.
“I don’t want to sit down. I’m sorry to worry you.” His voice was husky and he cursed inwardly. Of all the situations, this was one he did not need to find himself in. Not now. Not ever, really, if he was honest.
Olivia’s long, thin fingers wrapped around his hand and she pulled him forward. She was concerned, of course. She thought he was reacting strangely because of the fall. If she only knew his true thoughts, the last thing she would be doing right now was touching him. He glanced down to their linked hands admiring how her slim, elegant fingers looked surrounded by his larger, thicker ones.
She reached around to close the door. The action brought her even closer, her breast slid against his arm and Bronson inhaled sharply. He could not resist the tempting woman. But somehow he’d find a way to fight his urges. She didn’t need to know the direction of his wayward imagination. “Come on, Bronson, you’ll be okay. Let’s get you to sit by the fire.” She tugged at his arm and he followed, docile as a lamb. Heck, the woman could be leading him straight to the gates of hell and he’d follow her. He focused on the fireplace and attempted to steer his mind in another direction. “I’m all right…”
She pushed him none-too-gently into a chair. “Let me be the judge of that.” He almost laughed when she pried his right eye wider with her fingers and peered into it. If she only knew she played with fire. He took her shoulders and gently pushed her back.
“Olivia…you need to give me a bit of distance.”
He reached up and removed the bandages when she moved away. “It’s just a bump on the head. I’ve had worse.” If he could make her angry then perhaps she’d be more inclined to stay away from him.
“What the hell are you doing?” Her eyes narrowed at the bandages he threw into the fire. She glared at him not seeming to realize she’d uttered an unladylike curse.
“I’m about to make a bedroll here by this fire and go to sleep. I don’t need anymore nursing. I suggest you make yourself comfortable over there.” He pointed towards the bed. “In the morning, we can get out of here.”
Instead of replying, she went to the kitchen and began washing their coffee cups. Her back to him, she went about the chores with swift, precise movements. Instead of a reprieve at her distance, guilt assaulted him. After all she’d done for him, it wasn’t fair that his lack of control prodded him to be rude to her.
&
nbsp; Bronson went to her and touched her arm. “I’m sorry. I apologize. You’re stuck here because of me and it’s not fair that I speak to you in such a rude manner.”
The tin cup clattered into the washbowl when she swirled around to him. Her blue eyes were the color of the sky in springtime and Bronson felt as if he could dive into them never coming up for air. Her lips pressed together and brows lowered, Olivia waited for him to say more.
Damn if he didn’t forget the English language in that moment and all he did was stare at her in return.
He wasn’t sure if he moved first or if she did, but somehow his mouth covered hers and he pulled her against him with force until her entire body was pressed against his. The kiss consumed his every sense and was as intoxicating as any liquor he’d ever had.
Her hands went around his neck, her fingers pressing into his nape encouraging him to continue taking and yet giving at the same time. Time stood still and passed in a blur, making him wish it would not. If he could remain in her arms, with her luscious curves under his palms, with her soft moans of response resonating in his ears, then he’d be happy to live the rest of his life right there. With her.
The dance that followed was a familiar one of lovers, the unsteady steps of passion that took two people to depths of movement that came only when the beauty of each second eclipsed the next.
When her clothing slipped from each inch of her body, her skin shined like alabaster, lit by the flickering flames. He dressed her with kisses. The moments melted one into the next as they climbed and fell over cliffs they built together.
Olivia was perfection if he’d ever considered it existed. The sounds she made along with her unbridled reactions to his touch made him want to fulfill her every wish.
Like waves helpless against the whims of the ocean, they crashed into each other, cresting with bursts of screams and moans culminating in falling together onto the floor in front of the fire.
Every Blue Moon Page 4
