Darlin' Druid

by Lyn Horner

  Jessie gasped in her sleep and awoke with a start. Her eyes flew open at the sound of a pained groan. Briefly disoriented, she blinked at the light from a low-burning oil lamp. Then she remembered where she was. She looked at David and caught her breath. He had grown restless and kicked his quilt half off. One hip and a long, hairy leg lay in plain view, and his manly parts were just barely covered by a corner of the quilt. Unable to tear her gaze away, she stared at him. She had seen her brother naked when he was a little boy but she’d never seen a grown man in that state. Another kick and she would see exactly how this man was made.

  Blushing furiously at the thought, she fought off temptation, rose hurriedly and tugged his quilt up to a more modest level. As she did so, he muttered unintelligibly and rolled his head from side to side on the pillow. Before, he’d been deathly pale; now a feverish flush stained his skin.

  “Can ye hear me, Captain?” Jessie asked softly. Getting no reply, she pressed her hand to his brow, finding it hot and paper-dry. At her touch he mumbled again, drawing her gaze to his parched lips. Hastily, she crossed to the washstand, poured water into a glass and retraced her steps. Sliding her hand under David’s head to raise it a bit, she was shocked by the scorching heat of him.

  “Captain? I’ve some nice cool water for ye,” she whispered, setting the glass to his lips. She gently coaxed them apart, then trickled water into his mouth a few drops at a time. When he refused to take any more, she let his head slide back to the pillow and studied him worriedly.

  Ought she to wake Milly Cooper and tell her about his fever? Milly had said to wake her if he started bleeding again, but his bandages showed not a trace of red. Jessie hated to disturb the woman’s sleep. Surely she could handle the situation until morning.

  Gathering water and washrags, she sat beside David on the bed, dampened a folded rag and laid it across his brow. Then she wet another rag and bathed his throat, arms and bare mid-section. When he jerked at the coldness, she spoke soothingly to him; in a few moments she replaced the warm rag on his brow with a cool one. She repeated the process time and again, always making certain David’s lower half stayed well covered.

  As she worked, her latest nightmare came back to her. The memory of seeing David’s face so clearly in her dream sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. But had she given his face to her rescuer in the dream only because of what he had done for her tonight?

  No! Her instincts screamed for her to believe what she had seen. David Taylor was the man she sought – which could only mean the fiery scene in her nightmare was also bound to come true. She had lived through one dreadful fire. Was she doomed, along with David, to die in another such blaze, like that poor woman who haunted her dreams, who had burned to death before her eyes back in Chicago? Jessie trembled at the possibility.

  Well, one thing was clear: David must live in order to fulfill her cursed dream. Whether he would also fulfill her dreams of love, she could not predict with any certainty.

  Shortly after dawn, Milly Cooper knocked on the bedroom door and entered. She looked fresh and ready to meet the day in a rose muslin gown topped by a crocheted collar, with her gray hair pinned neatly atop her head. “Good morning, Jessie,” she said cheerfully.

  Feeling bedraggled by comparison, Jessie returned her greeting.

  “You must be done in after sitting up all night.”

  “I’m a wee bit tired, but I’ll do.”

  “And how is our patient?”

  “He started running a fever some while ago.” Replacing the rag on David’s brow yet again, Jessie added, “I’ve been trying to keep him cool, but he’s still burning up.”

  Milly felt David’s face and throat.“Mmm. He is warm, but that’s to be expected, considering.” She carefully inspected his bandages. “There’s very little seepage. That’s good.”

  Jessie stood and rubbed the small of her back, where an ache had developed from sitting bent over for so long. “He will recover then? Ye weren’t just saying that last night?”

  Straightening, Milly gave her a level look. “During the war I saw men survive far worse wounds than his. But I won’t lie to you, I also saw others die from far less.”

  The floor seemed to lurch under Jessie’s feet. She must have swayed because Milly hastened to slip a supportive arm around her.

  “There now, don’t take on. As I said, he’s a strong young man. And it’s always wise to hope for the best, don’t you think?”

  Jessie nodded weakly, staring at David’s flushed features.

  * * *

  Around mid-afternoon of the following day, Jessie sat keeping watch over David as she mended the rip in his heavy wool coat, caused by Wolf Gerard’s knife. Metal utensils clattered in the kitchen where Milly had begun supper preparations. Determined to make himself useful, Tye was helping out down at Cooper’s Emporium, the small mercantile owned by their host.

  Jessie lifted her hair off her sweaty neck for a moment then let it fall back in place. She had left it unbound again today for comfort’s sake, but the heat was rapidly defeating her purpose.

  David lay unchanged. She had spooned a bit of chicken broth into him a while ago and had sponged him off again. He rested quietly now, his fever down for the moment, but his body still struggled to restore itself, as the doctor put it. Having learned about Milly’s patient after his return to town yesterday, the man had stopped by to inspect and approve her treatment. The captain should recover, he’d predicted, if no infection set in.

  Finished with her sewing, Jessie snipped off the thread and examined her stitches. The rip barely showed now. Satisfied, she smoothed the gold-trimmed blue coat and returned it to the wardrobe where Milly had hung it after scrubbing out the bloodstains. Jessie hoped its owner would be pleased with her handiwork when, not if, he was able to wear the coat again.

  She turned to glance at David and found him gazing at her with heavy lidded eyes. “Oh! You’re awake!” she blurted. When he continued to stare at her in silence, she couldn’t think what to say or do.

  Begorra, get hold of yourself! Wiping her suddenly damp palms on her skirt, she hurried to his bedside.

  “Let me see if your fever is up again,” she said, leaning down to touch his brow. When he reached to catch her wrist, she gasped and stared into his eyes. He gave a tug and she found herself sitting beside him. Breathing became difficult as his gaze wandered over her face; when it traveled to her breasts, she experienced a rush of heat and a sharp, unfamiliar throbbing deep inside her.

  Unnerved, she told herself to get up, to put distance between them, but her legs would not respond. Nor could she look away when David’s gaze rose to entrap hers.

  “You’re lovely,” he whispered, raising his hand to caress her cheek. His fingers glided slowly along her jaw and down her throat, sending out waves of delicious sensations, drawing a soft moan from her lips and making her sway toward him.

  He lifted a lock of hair from her breast, fingering it gently. “It feels like silk. I knew it would.”

  His husky voice vibrated through her, making her shudder. She was acutely aware of his warm male scent and the shifting of muscles beneath her hand, where it lay splayed across his good shoulder. His smoky green eyes drew her closer. Then his lips caught her attention and she bent closer still, longing to kiss him.

  Suddenly, his caressing hand fell away. Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes, retreating into darkness and snapping the invisible cord binding Jessie to him. With a cry of distress, she sprang off the bed and pressed her hands to her hot cheeks, horrified by what she had almost done.

  “Jessie Devlin! ’Tis plain to see the poor man is out of his head. And here ye were about to throw yourself upon him. God forgive ye, ye wicked hussy!”

  * * *

  Rousing to the warmth of sunlight on his face, David opened his eyes, only to slam them shut against the painful glare. He waited a moment before trying again, this time squinting until his eyes adjusted to the light. Then he found himself staring at
an unfamiliar plastered ceiling.

  Where the hell am I? The answer escaped him.

  He heard a rustle of cloth. Turning his head, he saw a woman standing a few feet away with her back to him. Dressed in faded blue calico, she was dusting the top of a bureau. One look at the coiled auburn hair at her nape and he recognized Jessie Devlin. Then the memories came flooding back: his search for her in the dark, Gerard knifing him, his battle with the buffalo skinner, and lastly a vague memory of Jessie bending over him, trying to stop his bleeding.

  Another image of her, with her hair loose around her shoulders, flashed into his mind. Had that really happened or had he dreamed it?

  “Hello,” he said, sounding to himself like a bullfrog croaking.

  Jessie gasped and whirled to stare at him with eyes as big as saucers. Before, they’d made him think of sapphires; now they brought to mind Texas bluebonnets glowing in the sun. Watching her gnaw her bottom lip, he grinned crookedly and received a wary frown in response.

  “Are ye truly awake?” she asked.

  “Seems like,” David replied with a hoarse chuckle that ended in a groan when his right shoulder protested the movement. Rubbing it lightly, he wondered who had applied the bandage.

  Jessie made a choked sound and stared at the dust cloth in her hands, nervously twisting it this way and that. Was she feeling guilty over his scuffle with Gerard? She damn well ought to, David thought uncharitably as he attempted to clear his throat.

  “Water,” he rasped.

  “Oh, aye, right away.” Tossing the mangled cloth onto the bureau, she hurried to bring him a glass of water.

  When she bent close to prop up his head, her womanly scent, mingled with the lilac fragrance he recalled from before, produced a rush of desire he hadn’t expected. Then he saw the water glass shake as she brought it to his mouth. Did she dislike touching him, or was it possible he disturbed her as much as she disturbed him?

  “Enough. Thanks,” he said, pushing the glass away, and his lusty thoughts with it. Now wasn’t the time for that. He needed some answers.

  “You’re welcome,” she said softly, easing his head back to the pillow. She set the glass aside and made a move toward the door. “I’d best tell Milly you’re awake.”

  “Whoa, hold on,” David objected, bringing her up short. “Who’s Milly? And where the devil are we?”

  “Oh! Um, Milly Cooper is the one who tended ye after . . . after the fight.” She paused, fingering the collar of her dress. “Ye do remember the fight?”

  He scowled. “I remember it all right.”

  Looking shamefaced, she bent her head. “Aye, well, this is the Coopers’ home. In Grand Island, of course.”

  “Of course,” he repeated in disgust. “And just how long have I been here?”

  Hesitantly meeting his gaze, she licked her lips. “Why, uh, ’tis the third day now.”

  “Damnation! I’m already late!” he exploded, causing her to jump. He rubbed his shoulder again and scowled harder.

  “Late?” she squeaked. She obviously hadn’t given a thought to what trouble the lost time might cause him. She hadn’t thought, period.

  “Yes, late. I was due back at my post yesterday. Thanks to you, my dear Miss Devlin, I am now absent without leave.”

  “Oh, no!” Closing her eyes, she bent her head again and wrung her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

  He ignored her husky apology. “You little fool! Why’d you go wandering off alone in the dark? Even a tenderfoot like you ought to know better. You damn near got us both killed!”

  Her bottom lip quivered. “I know!” she cried. “But I only wanted a few moments alone to . . . to . . . .” Her voice broke. “I’m sorry!” Sobbing, she ran for the door.

  David’s anger instantly abated. “Jessie, wait!” he called.

  She paused, face to the door, with her hand on the knob. Her shoulders shook as she tried to stifle her tears. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, cursing the pain in his shoulder and the dizzying weakness that swamped him.

  He lowered his voice. “I shouldn’t have snarled at you. I’m sorry.” He waited, hoping for a response, but she stood rooted by the door, weeping.

  “Jessie?” he called more softly. When she still didn’t answer, he swung his legs out of bed, determined to make her look at him at least. Tugging the sheet around his middle, he clenched his teeth and pushed to his feet. His legs wobbled and he felt lightheaded. Stubbornly ignoring both warning signs, he managed two rubbery steps before his knees buckled.

  The sounds behind Jessie penetrated her fog of anguish, and it dawned on her that David was getting up. She whirled with a cry of alarm. Seeing him start to collapse, she lunged forward and threw her arms around his middle, but he was too heavy; she couldn’t hold him up. All she could do was cushion his fall. She landed hard, banging her head on the floor. He fell on top of her, driving the air from her lungs, but his snarl of pain still registered in her ringing head.

  He rolled away while she struggled to catch her breath and waited for her head to clear. When the ringing finally stopped, she lifted her head enough to see David sitting with his back against the bed and the sheet wound around his hips. His eyes were screwed shut, his mouth set in a thin white line as he clutched his bandaged shoulder.

  Still a bit winded, Jessie pushed to her knees. “Are ye daft?” she chided. “Ye must be, trying to stand when you’re as weak as a newborn kitten.”

  His pained expression slowly relaxed, and he opened his eyes. “I had to. You wouldn’t look at me.”

  Jessie sniffed and swiped at her tear-damp cheeks. “And ye called me a fool.”

  “Touché, Miss Devlin,” he said with a grimace as he rubbed lightly at his injured shoulder.

  “Merciful heaven, I hope you’re not bleeding again!” She scooted over to him and nudged his hand away. Aware of him watching her, she inspected his dressing with shaky fingers, sighing in relief when she found only a small trace of fresh blood.

  “I don’t think ye did any serious damage, but Milly had better have a look. I’ll need her help to get ye back in bed, anyway.” She gathered her skirts, preparing to rise.

  “Don’t go. Not yet,” he said, gripping her elbow. When she looked at him uncertainly, he smiled. “I want to apologize properly for what I said.”

  She shook her head. “Th-there’s no need. ’Twas all true, after all.”

  “Maybe, but I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

  His low voice set off tiny charges beneath her skin, and when he tugged her close and slid his arm around her, her breath caught in her throat. She clutched his good shoulder, while her other hand went instinctively to his chest, where the soft, curly hair tickled her palm.

  “Will you forgive me, Jessie?”

  Mesmerized by the gray-green eyes she had so often dreamt of, it took her a moment to find her voice. “I . . . I forgive ye, Captain.”

  “David,” he prompted.

  “David,” she repeated softly.

  “Much better.”

  She gasped as his arm tightened, pressing her breasts to his hard chest. His musky man scent surrounded her, his heat seeming to burn right through her clothes. His face was so close that she could see the pores of his skin and feel his warm breath fanning her cheek. He stared at her mouth for a moment. Then he was kissing her.

  Her eyelids fluttered shut. She forgot to breathe as he explored her lips with gossamer kisses. When his hand began to stroke her back she melted against him like butter on hot bread, sliding her arms around him and moaning in delight. His tongue teased her lips apart; mildly surprised, she opened her mouth to him.

  Groaning, he crushed her to him, his hand cupping her head, and drove his tongue into her mouth, hungrily demanding a response. His sudden aggressiveness stunned her; she felt as if she were being devoured. Uttering a smothered cry, she tried to pull away, but David held her fast, ignoring her efforts to escape. When his right hand cupped her breast, she panicked. Forgetting his w
ound, she forced her hands between them and pounded at his encroaching chest.

  He broke off his scalding kiss with a sharp cry and released her so suddenly that she toppled backward to the floor. Gasping for breath, she scrambled away from him as he clutched his shoulder, teeth bared in pain. With her back against the door, she huddled there, staring at him fearfully.

  “What the hell’s the matter with you?” he snarled, glaring at her. “One minute you’re all warm and willing. The next you’re pounding at me like some –”

  Interrupting his tirade, Jessie gasped and pointed in horror at the red stain seeping through his bandages.

  He glanced down at his shoulder. “Tarnation! Now you’ve opened up this blasted cut!”

  “I’m sorry!” Jessie wailed. “But ye shouldn’t have kissed me like that and . . . .” Unable to say the words and refusing to start crying again, she pushed to her feet. “Your shoulder needs tending. I’ll fetch Milly.” Whirling, she jerked open the door and fled.

  “Ah, hell!” David muttered, furious with himself. Since when had he taken to forcing his attentions on green girls?

  He smiled sourly and shook his head. That green girl excited him more than any woman of the world he’d ever known, so much so that he had lost his head. All he’d meant to do was steal a kiss or two before letting her run away, but her artless response, coupled with her sweet scent and those soft curves molded against him, had overridden his judgment. He’d wanted to take her right here on the hard floor, never mind the pain in his shoulder.

  Dammit! He should have remembered what he’d known from the first moment he laid eyes on Jessie Devlin. She wasn’t a woman he could bed once and forget, and she sure wasn’t the kind he’d ever take to wife.

  An unwelcome thought struck him. Jessie couldn’t be quite the ungrateful witch he’d believed her to be, since she had apparently stayed here to take care of him. Along with her brother, David hoped, because he did not want to have to escort her to Utah once his shoulder mended.

  All that aside, he wasn’t wrong about Jessie’s nasty temper, and he was sitting here with a torn shoulder thanks to her lack of good sense. She was a city girl, to boot. She’d probably hate frontier life. A man couldn’t trust a woman like that to stand by him. His father had made that mistake; David refused to repeat it.