by Stacey Kayne
And who could blame him? She had known him only a week and she'd already nearly gotten him killed.
Surrounded by the sound of Jed's steady breathing and the hiss of the lantern, Rachell laid her head against his chest, listening to the powerful beat of his heart helping to replenish the blood he'd lost.
He will be well, she told herself, repeating Running Bear's promise. She settled beside him, praying he'd wake soon.
Rachell was awakened by the sound of someone calling her name.
"Rachell?" Jed called again.
Rachell bolted upright, her hands instantly moving over the man beside her. Under her palms, Jed's chest rose and fell with his steady breaths. His eyes remained closed, his body relaxed, unmoving. Noticing the intense heat radiating up from Jed's skin, she lifted a hand to his forehead.
Oh, God. He's burning up.
"Imp?" a voice called from outside.
"Running Bear!"
Hearing the flap move, she glanced back to see him crouched in the opening. "Breakfast." He held out a bowl.
"No time." She tossed the blanket covering Jed's legs aside and reached for the hollow gourd of drinking water. "He's burning with fever. I'll need more water."
Running Bear knelt beside her and touched Jed's face.
"Roll him over so I can pull the fur away," she instructed, already trying to tug the thick pelt from beneath him. "He'll be cooler lying on just the blanket."
Running Bear pulled Jed onto his side. Rachell grabbed the edge of the heavy fur and pulled it away. As she did, her eyes focused on Jed's scarred back. She'd seen the old scars before, but not close enough to see the individual crossing lines of corded skin. The thin scars stretched from his shoulders to his lower back; marks made by the lash of a whip.
She brushed her fingers across the rippled skin before she eased him back, allowing Running Bear to lower him onto the blanket. She wondered why someone would have inflicted such wounds on Jed.
"I bring water and Shaman," Running Bear said as he stood.
Rachell retrieved the instruments Running Bear had brought her the day before from Jed's saddlebags. She cut away the bandages around Jed's waist.
"Oh, God," she said, horrified by the proof of infection already draining from his side. The long cut was surrounded by angry red flesh. Her heart pounding, she rushed to find Jed's shears to cut away the sutures holding in the infection.
Running Bear returned just as she reopened the wound. She pressed above the cut and yellow ooze spilled from Jed's body.
"Oh, no."
Running Bear murmured behind her. Rachell was sure he had just sworn in Indian.
"It has to be cleaned. I need boiled water," she instructed.
He gave a sharp nod and again disappeared through the flap.
Jed moaned, seeming to fidget in his sleep.
"Jed?" she said, fighting the burn of tears. She smoothed her hand over his cheek, but his eyes didn't so much as flutter.
When Running Bear returned, Rachell irrigated the wound with warm water while Running Bear and a few others hovered nearby. When she finished closing the cleaned cut, a brown hand reached out, stopping her attempt to bind his side. Rachell glanced beside her, and was surprised by the tawny wrinkled face that greeted her.
"Shaman wrap Jed's wound with healing herbs," Running Bear said from behind her.
Rachell nodded, releasing a shuddered breath as she moved aside. The fear she'd kept at bay poured through her as the shaman began chanting over Jed's unconscious body.
He'd be okay. He has to be okay.
She took one of the rags Running Bear had brought in and dipped it into a large bowl of water, then swabbed the cool towel across Jed's brow. Once his fever's down, he'll wake up.
Long after the shaman and others had left, Rachell continued to bathe Jed's sweltering body with cool water. Morning dragged into afternoon and still his skin blazed. When she wasn't rewetting his hair and skin, she fanned him with the damp cloth.
Sometime in early evening Jed stirred, moaning as Rachell smoothed the wet cloth across his chest. She instantly leaned over. "Jed?"
His eyes opened slightly and relief vibrated through her.
"Rachell," he whispered.
"I'm here," she said, brushing a hand across his whiskered jaw.
Before she saw any recognition in his gaze, his eyes rolled up and his lids came down.
"Jed?" She rubbed her hands over his chest and shoulders, calling his name, but he didn't respond.
Disappointment resounded through her soul as she dipped the towel back into the water and resumed the task of combating his fever. She lifted his scarred knuckles to her lips, kissing them before running the wet cloth across his long arm.
As the sun descended, Jed's fever began to gradually decline. Rachell's arms ached from fanning him and continually lifting his arms and legs as she dampened his flesh. After an entire day of bathing him, her hands had grown accustomed to the feel of his skin. She'd memorized and touched all the reminders of violence in his past, and had been stunned by how much one man could endure.
Never had she seen so many scars. There wasn't a limb unscathed by the markings of an old injury.
When his body finally neared its normal temperature, Rachell was sure he'd wake soon. But as the evening wore on her patience snapped. Giving his cheek a sturdy pat, she shouted, "Wake up! You're scaring me! Do you hear me, Jed? Wake up!"
She shouted the commands several times before she sensed someone else inside the teepee. Snow Flower knelt beside her. She placed a hand on Rachell's shoulder. Her sympathetic gaze broke the little that remained of Rachell's control. A wave of despair washed over her and warm tears spilled across her cheeks.
"I want him to wake up."
Snow Flower pulled her into a light embrace. She spoke softly in her Indian language, and though Rachell didn't understand a single word, the gentle sound of Snow Flower's voice gave her comfort.
Recovering from her tearful state, she eased back and found Running Bear watching them from just inside the door flap.
Snow Flower spoke again and stood, encouraging Rachell to do the same.
"Go with Snow Flower," said Running Bear. "She take you to warm pool. You will feel better. I watch Jed."
Rachell pulled in a shaky breath and nodded as she allowed Snow Flower to pull her to her feet.
Chapter Nine
Conscious of a dull ache throughout his entire body, Jed tried to shake off the heavy shroud of sleep. He was aware of a burning pain in his right side and a soft warmth pressed against his left. His mind recognized the woman beside him even before he opened his eyes.
Rachell.
He squinted against the intrusion of light. A lantern hung from a tall aspen pole. Rachell was snuggled against him, the lantern casting a warm glow over her sleeping face, lighting up streaks of gold in her auburn hair, giving life to the flames cascading across her shoulder and back.
Pain bit into his right side as he shifted toward her.
The Apache, he thought, as his hand felt the bandages wrapped around his middle. He'd been cut. The image of Rachell racing into the river to help him flashed in his mind. Her large green eyes, filled with concern- for him. She'd put her own fear aside and risked her life to help him from the swift current.
What the hell had she been thinking? If he had collapsed, she'd have been no more use than a tiny woodpecker. His overgrown hide would have swept her downstream right along with him.
Gingerly, he stretched his aching body, and realized he was only wearing a bandage. As he scanned Rachell's petite frame,
his body stirred beneath the blanket. He reached over and skimmed his hand lightly across the small curve of her hip.
She moaned softly in her sleep and wriggled closer to him.
Jed folded an arm under his head as he traced her petal-soft lips with his finger; lips that had set him on fire. He smiled as she sighed, nuzzling even closer to his chest.
No woman had ev
er kissed him with such passion. He wanted to see her emerald eyes.
Again, he brushed his finger across the soft pad of her lower lip. The sound of his name rippled from her mouth, stealing the air from his lungs.
"Rachell?" he whispered, pushing a long strand of hair away from her face.
Green eyes opened wide. Her pink lips drew into a bright smile as she sprang up. She lifted onto her knees, leaning over him. Her red hair swirled around her face in wild disarray.
She was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen.
"You're awake! How are you feeling?"
"Like hell worked over," he answered truthfully. He groaned, forcing himself to sit up despite his body's painful protest. He felt as though he'd run a gauntlet, with every inch of his body being pummeled by stone mallets. "What'd you do, tie me behind Sage and drag me to camp?"
"Perhaps you should stay lying down," she offered with a worried frown, completely missing his humor. Her small palms set fire to his skin as she pressed lightly against his shoulders. He realized she wore a buckskin dress.
"Where are we?" he asked, glancing around at the circular wall of tightly bound reeds, realizing only now that he hadn't given any thought to their location, only to who he was with.
"Running Bear's camp."
"Ah, now I remember." The last thing he recalled was his large Ute brother running toward him.
Rachell's gaze moved rapidly over him as though to make sure all was accounted for. She scooted close and tugged at the binding around his waist. With her face nearly touching his chest, she peered down at the padding covering his wound. Jed inhaled a deep breath, bathing his senses with the sweet scent of Rachell's hair.
She released a sigh, apparently relieved to find that his side hadn't busted open.
"How does it look?" he asked when she leaned back.
"It's not bleeding, but I think you should lie down. I'll get you some water. Are you hungry?"
Before he could answer, she was on her feet. "Running Bear says you are brothers," she continued, again kneeling in front of him. "He says you taught him to speak English. Was he also raised by the Cherokee?"
"No," Jed replied with a short laugh, checking his injury for himself. He was surprised by the neat, uniform row of tight stitches. By far the best stitching he'd ever received. "Running Bear was raised by his tribe," Jed explained, looking back up at Rachell. "His Ute tribe. He's what we'd call my brother-in-law."
Rachell's eyes widened. "Oh," she said in a hushed voice. "Your wife."
Jed nodded. "Malika."
It had been so long since he'd spoken her name aloud, it sounded strange on his tongue.
"Judge Widell mentioned you had hunted down killers. Was she killed by them?"
"She was. What time is it?" he asked, anxious to change the subject, annoyed that it had come up at all. He had no intention of discussing his first forced bride with his second. If Rachell knew his young wife had run headlong into gunfire, rather than endure another day with him, Rachell would be liable to run off again. He was in no shape to chase her down.
Jed avoided her gaze as he accepted the ladle of water she held out to him.
"The sun isn't up yet," she said as he took a drink. "You were plagued by fever all of yesterday."
"I've been asleep for an entire day?"
"Nearly two. Yesterday your wound became infected and had to be reopened. The shaman put some herbs in your bindings to fight off infection."
Jed noticed the redness of Rachell's eyes. She offered him more water. He shook his head. She replaced the ladle then picked up another bowl beside their blankets and rose to her feet. When she sat the bowl near the door flap of the teepee he saw the cloth lying in the water.
She must have been tending his fever. No wonder she looked completely drained.
"Come lie down, Rachell. You have bags under your eyes the size of Texas."
"You should eat something." She scurried to the other side of the small hut.
"All I need is for you to stop fluttering around this teepee like a damn hummingbird. You're making me dizzy."
She ignored his comment, retrieving another bowl covered by a thin cloth. "You lost a lot of blood. You need to eat."
"Rachell, get your butt over here and lie down."
She knelt beside him and smiled at his fierce expression. "Not until you eat something." She took a chunk of meat from the bowl and pushed it into his mouth. "I know it's not warm, but it will help you get your strength back."
After the second bite, Jed grabbed her wrist. Her breath caught as he kissed her palm. "I've eaten," he said. "Time to lie down before you fall asleep on your feet."
Rachell released a slow sigh as he let go of her wrist, exhaustion settling across her face. "Are you sure you're not hungry?"
"Lie down," he ordered, lifting the edge of the blanket covering him.
Rachell set the bowl down and started to move beside him then paused, her eyes widening as though she'd just recalled something. Jed had a pretty good notion as to what that something was.
He wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing.
"But, you're..."
"You were lying beside me just a moment ago. Snuggled right up against me, in fact."
"Yes, and you were unconscious."
"I don't see another bed," he added, glancing around the teepee. He arched an eyebrow. "How do I know you haven't been taking advantage of me?"
Jed smiled as red blotches stained her cheeks. "I'll keep to my side of the blanket," he assured her as he reached for her hand and pulled her down beside him. He wasn't sure how he'd manage it though.
Rachell immediately turned away from him, lying on her side.
"You did a fine job of sewing me up," he said, tossing the blanket over her. He rolled onto his back and tried to focus on the sting in his side, not the feel of Rachell's buckskin-clad backside touching his hip.
"You must be one hell of a seamstress," he continued, failing miserably in his efforts. "I've never seen such precise needlework in a man's hide, and I've seen more than my share of ripped-up hides."
"And had more than your share," she said. "I've never seen so many scars on one man."
"Like I said, I know fine stitching when I see it."
"How did you know I was the one who stitched your side?"
"They obviously think you're my wife. I don't suppose they sent another woman in here to sew me up and tend to my fever?"
"No. But Running Bear and his wife have been very helpful, bringing me fresh water and food. I was so scared when you didn't wake, and then the fever... Oh, Jed, if you had seen how much blood you lost."
Feeling her shudder, Jed rolled onto his good side, stretching his arm across her tiny waist. She'd been truly worried about him. Why did that stun him? Perhaps because no woman had given a damn about him since his sister died, including
Malika. Yet this little spitfire who'd known him only a week, detesting him most of that time, had raced into a raging river to help him, and toiled over his feverish body.
"Thank you for caring for me, Rachell."
"It was the least I could do. You've been taking care of me for the past week. You wouldn't be hurt at all if it weren't for me."
He pressed his face into the side of her hair. "You smell good."
"You smell your soap," she whispered in a trembling voice.
"No, Imp. My soap has never smelled so sweet. I smell you." His hand slid across her slender hip. Touching her seemed to ease all his pain. She shivered beneath his palm.
"Are you cold?"
"No," she breathed, her soft voice barely audible.
"You're shivering," he said, again smoothing his hand across the curve of her hip.
"You're touching me."
Jed propped himself up on his elbow as he pressed a hand against her shoulder, easing her onto her back so he could see her face. Her wide eyes glittered like emeralds in the low lamplight as she met his gaze. "You don't need to be frightened Of me, Rachell. You
know I wouldn't force myself on you."
Her lips twisted into a slight, trembling smile. "And I believe you know you wouldn't have to."
Passion burst through Jed like a wildfire blowing across the yellow summer grasses of the Sierra Nevada foothills. Only then did he realize how much he had wanted to hear her say she felt an attraction toward him.
His smile was slow, and carnal.
"I barely have the energy to hold my eyes open," he pointed out. And thank goodness. If he had the energy, he'd be hilt-deep in her sweet body after that revealing statement. But her pas- siveness surprised him. When he'd kissed her by the river he'd been shocked by her willingness to participate. Her expression afterward had told him she'd been just as stunned as he had by the passion ignited between them.
His gaze fell to the lips that had set him ablaze.
"Jed?" she said as he lowered his mouth to hers.
"Just a kiss," he whispered, lightly brushing his lips across the softness of her mouth. "Can I kiss you?"
"Oh, yes."
Jed smiled. The pleading in her tone pleased him as much as her arms reaching for his neck. Her mouth was warm and yielding. Her kiss was all he remembered it to be; stronger than whisky, hotter than fire, and more threatening than a band of fifty hostile Indians.
Ignoring his internal warning to pull away before he became lost in the taste of her, Jed took his time, memorizing all the sweet textures of her mouth and yielding to the timid strokes of her tongue which became bolder with every touch, driving him to the edge of his sanity.
When he finally broke the kiss, his arm slid beneath her. He held her against his body as he carefully rolled onto his back. Tucking a hand behind her knee, he pulled her thigh up to his waist so that she lay partially on top of him.
"You sure feel good," he said as his palm caressed her slender back.
Rachell had to agree. It felt more than good to be held like this, feeling a closeness to him that went beyond the proximity of their bodies. She closed her eyes, allowing her hand to move across the expanse of his bare chest, smiling as he made a deep purring sound and increased the pressure of his caress on her back.
