"Can you move it?" Doc Calder asked.
"I can, but it hurts too bad," Tess replied.
"Well, it looks broken to me. But sometimes a bad sprain will swell up and blacken just like this, too. I'm going to have to move it around and see if I can tell if there's a broken bone in there. I better put you out before I do that."
"No!"
"Now, miss, I've got some ether with me. You'll never know a thing."
And where the heck would she wake up this time? "No," Tess repeated. "I...just give me something to relax me. Maybe some laudanum. I don't want to be put to sleep."
"If you say so. But I'm afraid you're going to wish you'd listened to me before this is over."
Stone watched Tess swallow the laudanum, her face grimacing at the bitter taste. While the doctor busied himself laying out what he would need from his black bag, Tess settled back against the pillows. She glanced at him, and Stone found himself once again drawn into those green depths.
Where in the world had such a pure, sea green color come from? The fathomless depths remained clear, though — not darkening as the ocean did as it deepened. The whites reminded him of frothy wave crests, and thick, lush lashes surrounded them. The lashes blinked closed, and Stone tore his gaze away from her face.
Wandering his eyes down her body caused a tightening in his groin. Auburn tresses curled around a smooth neck, tumbling in disarray over the mounds of her breasts, and he could almost imagine that the second his eyes touched the breasts, the nipples puckered and pointed upwards — or had those tips been there all along?
Stone rolled his tongue around in his mouth. He could just about taste those nipples. Would she buck wildly under him if he ever got the chance to savor them? Would she throw that long, smooth neck back and toss those shiny curls in ecstasy?
She clutched the sheet over that flat stomach, but he could make out the mound of curls beneath the sheet and gown. Were they the same color as her hair? He could almost feel them brushing his mouth, and he swept his tongue around his lips, surprised to find it bare. He shifted sideways in the door, cocking one leg out to hide his straining fly.
The doctor pulled the sheet and gown further back from Tess's injured ankle, and Stone's gaze fell on her leg. There hadn't been anything left to the imagination in those tight pants she'd had on, and he already knew her legs were long and shapely. The doctor nonchalantly draped the sheet and gown on Tess's upper thigh, well above her knee.
Good God! He better get the hell out of here!
"Stone, she's going to need something to hang onto while I do this," Doc Calder said over his shoulder. "Come over here."
Stone stopped in mid-turn and glared back into the room. "I'm not good at stuff like this, Doc. I'll send Flower in."
"That child's not strong enough. Get over here, man."
Hesitantly, Stone made his way over to the bed. Tess's lashes were still pillowed on her cheeks and her breathing light.
"She's asleep, Doc."
"No," Tess murmured. "Just drifting. The laudanum made the pain better." She opened her eyes part way and smiled lazily at Stone. "It works better than the whiskey."
Stone groaned under his breath and pulled a ladderback chair over to the bedside. Gingerly, he sat down, then reached out a hand. "Doc says you're going to need something to hang onto."
Tess nodded sleepily and trustingly placed her hand in his, threading her fingers through his larger ones.
"Hold on," Doc muttered.
Shooting pain ran up her thigh, and Tess gasped and bit back a scream. Her entire leg was on fire. Tears immediately filled her eyes and she clung to Stone's hand, her nails digging into his palm.
Doc moved the ankle again, and Tess whimpered and closed her eyes, biting her lower lip between her teeth until she could taste blood.
"It's broken," Doc said. "I can hear the bones scrape. I'm going to have to set them back into place. Sure you won't change your mind about that ether?"
Tess shook her head, unable to speak.
"Hold her, Stone."
Stone moved from the chair to the bed, opening his arms willingly. Damn, this was going to hurt her!
The doctor grasped her ankle again, and Tess couldn't fight the scream this time. But now there was a broad chest to bury her face against and muffle the shriek. She flung her arms around Stone's neck and clung tightly. Suddenly the pain eased and she heard the doctor give a satisfied mutter.
Stone held the slender body close, reluctant to release her. He ran his hands up and down her back, caressing and soothing, as he had wanted to do on the hillside. When she tried to pull her head away, he curled one hand in the silky tresses and laid his cheek against the top of her head.
"Shhhh, Tess," Stone whispered. "He's almost done."
"Michael, what's wrong with you? You look like you're going to faint."
"Is he done yet? Gad, I can't stand this."
"He still has to put the cast on. Michael, you better sit down. Heavens, it's not you he's hurting — it's Tess."
"I know. But I can't stand to see anyone in pain." Michael swayed and started to sit. He missed the edge of the cloud and frantically beat his wings when he realized he was falling.
"Easy, Michael," Angela called over the side. "Think flying, don't flap."
Michael landed with his rear on the edge of the cloud, then quickly tumbled backwards when he looked down at Tess. Clasping a hand over his eyes, he gave a moan. "Tell me when he's done, O.K.?"
Angela soothingly patted him on the shoulder. "There, there, Michael. Everything will be all right."
***
Chapter 7
"Sorry you had to come all the way out here, Doc."
"Don't worry about it, Chisum. I get tired as hell of patching up drunks every Saturday night. Half the time they puke all over my surgery while I'm digging out bullets or stitching them up, then Mandy has to clean it up. Won't hurt them none to take care of themselves one night and let my wife have a good night's sleep. Maybe next week they'll think before they pull those damned guns or knives."
"Not much hope of that, unless the sheriff starts enforcing the law against weapons in the saloons. Whiskey does funny things to a man's mind."
"Yeah. Well, thanks for the bed last night. Glad I didn't have to drive back to town, though I suppose Perseus would've taken me right back to the stable if I'd've fallen asleep."
"Sure you won't stay for breakfast?"
"No, thanks. But you be sure Miss Foster eats right while that ankle heals. Lots of milk to help the bones, and meat and vegetables and fruit. She's too damned pretty to wind up with a limp. And from the looks of those legs of hers, she sure likes to walk. Say, Stone, you never did tell me how she ended up at your place."
He didn't know about the walking part, Stone mused to himself. He hadn't allowed himself to more than barely touch her injured ankle, even if his fingertips had tingled at the thought of seeing whether that skin on her thigh was as silky as it looked. Maybe some of that shapeliness on those legs was due to muscle tone, but it sure as hell would be a pity if those luscious legs were marred by a limp.
Milk they had a plenty, thanks to the cow. And the garden yielded a glut this time of year — tomatoes and cucumbers, beans and peas. He could check and see if the sweet corn was ready to pull. Wonder how soon the apples on the Widow Brown's trees would be ready?
"Chisum? Hey, Stone! Where'd you go?"
"Huh? What the hell are you talking about, Doc? I'm standing right here!"
Doc shook his head and lifted the reins. "I'll be back in a few days to check on Miss Foster, Stone. In the meantime, keep her off that foot. When I come back, we'll see about maybe getting her up on crutches. I don't believe in letting my patients lie around too long. Seems they heal better if they're up and about as soon as possible."
"I'll take care of her, Doc."
"I'll bet you will," Doc murmured under his breath with a chuckle as he clucked to Perseus. The old gelding moved off sprightly enough
after its night's rest, but Doc kept him reined down to a sedate trot. In its youth, the gelding would have made short work of the long drive to town, but its days of personifying the highfalutin Greek name Doc had stuck on it were long gone.
Doc craned his neck around and took one last look at Stone. He still stood with his fingers tucked into his back pockets, staring toward the garden. Suddenly Stone jerked his hands free and walked over to the edge of the plot, where Doc had noticed a bordering of flowers planted — Sweet Peas, if he remembered right.
Stone bent down and a laugh rumbled in Doc's chest as he turned his attention back to Perseus. Yep, that was one patient he didn't have to worry about getting adequate care.
Stone lifted the bouquet of Sweet Peas to his nose as he crossed the yard to the cabin. No wonder Flower liked to plant so many of them each spring and set jars of them around inside. He had never really noticed the clear scent before. A drop of dew clung to his nose when he lowered the bouquet, and he absently swiped it away.
"Oh, Pa," Flower said as Stone came into the kitchen. "Aren't they pretty? But you've never helped me pick my flowers before."
Stone thrust the Sweet Peas into Flower's hand. "Those flowers on the window sill are gettin' wilted. Thought you might want some fresh ones."
"You've got enough Sweet Peas here for more than one bouquet. I'll take some in on Tess's breakfast tray." Flower dipped water from a bucket into a jar and water glass, then split the Sweet Peas and arranged them in the containers.
"Whatever," Stone muttered after a second. "How is she this morning?"
"Sort of grouchy," Flower admitted. "She couldn't believe we got up this early."
"Early? Hell, it's almost sunrise. What's she think we do — sleep 'til noon around here? It's hard enough to find time to get everything done as it is."
"She mumbled something about not even having to be at work until nine thirty. She must have a job somewhere, but I've never heard of a store that opens that late. The stores in Clover Valley are always already open even when we get there at eight o'clock in the morning."
"Flower." Tess's voice floated through the open bedroom door. "I hate to bother you, but could you come here a minute?"
Flower started to lay down the knife she had picked up to slice the smoked ham, but Stone turned toward the bedroom.
"Go ahead with breakfast, Flower. I'll go see what she wants."
"Here. Take these with you, so they don't spill over on the tray."
Flower shoved the water glass into Stone's hand and turned back to the counter. For an instant, Stone stood looking from the glass back to his daughter, then shrugged irritably and walked into the bedroom.
"I was wondering if you could help me...." Tess's words froze on her lips as she looked up at the tall figure standing in the doorway, a water glass of flowers in his hand. She hurriedly jerked the sheet up over her shoulders. "You could at least knock first!"
"I'm not in the habit of knocking on doors in my own house!" Stone strode over and plopped the glass on the beside table. "Flower sent these in," he growled. No sense letting her get any unnecessary ideas about the bouquet. Doc might have forced him into helping nurse her last night — comfort her — help her bear what must have been excruciating pain — but....
"Thank her for me, will you?" Tess interrupted his thoughts. "They're beautiful. Sweet Peas, aren't they? Granny grew Sweet Peas. And Morning Glories and Four O'Clocks — and...lots of other flowers."
"What did you need? Flower's cooking breakfast."
"Uh...I guess it could have waited. I'm sorry to be such a bother."
"Just tell me what the hell you wanted."
Tess stared up at the grim face above her. He had been so tender last night. Holding and stroking her — lending his rock hard strength to cling to. Allowing her to curl her fingers in his own until she drifted off to sleep.
He must have made an attempt to tame those brown locks with water this morning. Too bad. The waves in his hair softened that planed countenance when they weren't slicked back. No touch of gray marred the temples, but she bet he would age well, even when it did.
His cheeks were freshly shaven. Good grief. How early did he get up each morning, if he bathed and shaved long before sunrise?
"What are you thinking about?" Stone asked quietly.
"How much better you look with your hair dry," Tess replied honestly. "And I was trying to decide if it was the Sweet Peas I smelled or your after shave."
"It's Sunday," Stone said with a shrug, absurdly pleased with her answer. "Even if we don't get to church every Sunday, sometimes neighbors drop by to visit."
"Any special neighbor?" Tess asked with a quirked eyebrow that Stone found himself thinking looked as feathery as a dark colored sea gull on the wing.
"The Widow Brown drops by sometimes. There's not really anyone else too close. Once and a while one or two of Rain's and Flower's Cherokee relatives wander in."
"Widow Brown, huh?"
"How old's the Widow Brown?" Tess asked before she could stop herself.
"How old? Hell, I don't know. About my age, I guess. Her husband was a little older than me. Why?"
"No reason," Tess denied. "It just seems awfully rugged country for a woman to be widowed in — have to live in alone."
"We help each other out when we can. Now, what did you need help with? I've got to get to my chores."
"Uh...oh, the pillow," Tess recalled. "It fell off the bottom of the bed, and my ankle feels better when it's propped on it. I couldn't reach it."
Stone moved to the foot of the bed and bent down for the pillow. Gently he lifted the cast and slid the goose-down stuffed pillow beneath it. Five pink toes with rose-tinted nails wiggled before his eyes.
"That feels much better. Thanks so much," Tess said gratefully.
"This little piggy...." Stone reached out a finger toward her toes.
"Don't you dare!" Tess gasped. "I'm ticklish!"
Stone jerked his hand back. Good God, what was he doing? He hadn't even realized he had moved his arm — and he hadn't thought of that crazy little rhyme in years.
Glancing at Tess, Stone got caught in the sparkling depths of her green eyes as she gazed back at him. An imp of mischief crawled into his own eyes.
"Ticklish, huh? Better behave yourself and follow all the doctor's orders then. And remember, I'm the boss around here."
"You're quite the tyrant, aren't you?" Tess said with a giggle. "I can tell that Rain and Flower shake in their moccasins whenever you're around."
Stone laughed softly with her for a moment before he draped the sheet over her tempting toes. "I've got to get busy, or those animals will think I've forgotten them," he said as he turned to the door. "Flower will have your breakfast in a few minutes."
Whistling softly to himself, Stone strode through the kitchen and out the door, his step lighter than usual as he headed out into a day filled with work. In the yard, he paused for a moment to watch the sun creep over the distant hilltops. Usually it never crossed his mind to take a long enough break to watch the gray-tinged distance change to muted pink, then fiery red and golden streaks announcing another day.
Hell, he had never taken time to bring a fresh bouquet to Flower, either. Now he glanced around the yard and noted the wild rose bushes Flower had dug up in the hills and transplanted here and there. A couple of them looked sort of wilted. Well, he guessed he could find a minute somewhere to haul water from the well for them. After all, Flower had enough to do.
"Michael, you aren't supposed to use your powers like that!" Angela chastised, though not too strongly.
"It was sort of cute, though, wasn't it, Angie? You know, I never realized that a woman's toes could be pretty. I was always more of a breast man myself."
"Michael!" Angela curled her own toes tight, burying them in the fluffy cloud. "We aren't supposed to be thinking of things like that!"
"Angie," Michael said with an irritated sigh. "Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I'm not stil
l a man. And men need a little push now and then. Couldn't you tell how much better Stone felt this morning than he usually does when he's facing a day full of work? It's because he knows there's a woman waiting in the house when he comes back inside. Someone to share a laugh with now and then. Someone to give a purpose to all that hard work."
"But he has the children. And how would you know? You never had anyone at home."
"It wasn't because I didn't wish I had," Michael said in a voice filled with longing. "I just never did find her...when I was alive." He glanced at Angela with a funny frown on his face, but Angela leaped from the cloud and headed for the barn.
"He's going to the pack, Michael. Come on."
Stone propped his hands on his hips and stared at the pack in the corner of the barn. Just as he started to kneel, the cow lowed loudly from its stall, and he frowned in her direction. What the heck was the matter with her? She usually waited peacefully until he got around to the milking.
The cow let out a loud bellow. Stone quickly headed across the straw-littered floor, almost tripping over three half-grown kittens that scampered from their hiding places, curling around his legs and mewing stridently.
"For pete's sake," Stone grumbled. "You act like I'm an hour late, instead of just a few minutes."
Stone grabbed the three-legged stool and started to sit before realizing he'd forgotten to fetch a clean milk bucket from the root cellar. Dropping the stool again, he scooped up a can of grain from a barrel and emptied it into the cow's manger before he headed out of the barn.
The kittens quieted immediately, and one of them stood on its hind feet, batting overhead. Angela drifted up out of the kitten's reach, a satisfied smile on her face as she looked over at the undisturbed backpack.
"He's gonna look in there sooner or later," Michael said with a grin.
"I've just got a feeling it should be later. I don't think he's quite ready yet."
"O.K., boss. Boy, it sure is dusty in here."
Forever Angels Page 6
