Ethan scoffed. Both Harley’s and Daniel’s eyes fell on him. Harley wore an amused expression while Daniel searched his face with a penetrating stare. Ethan shifted weight. He’d known Daniel Osborne for years, and the way the man could look at a person made it seem almost as if he could read someone’s mind.
Luckily, his wife Aimee emerged from inside the cabin at that moment, carrying a large basket. The scent of freshly baked bread filled the air.
“This valley isn’t the place for women raised in polite society, Harley, and you know it,” Ethan said, cursing silently for his quick outburst.
Daniel’s impassive facial expression lit up in a smile. Aimee walked past her husband at that moment and gave a quick laugh. The two of them looked at each other with knowing glances.
“And why would you say that?” Harley glared at Ethan. “I brung you and yer brothers out here when you was as green as a blade of spring grass.” He swept an arm in front of him. “And look at you now.”
“That’s different,” Ethan grumbled. His grip tightened around the ax handle. He shouldn’t have opened his mouth.
“Different? How so?”
Ethan frowned. They’d had this argument countless times before, so why had he let himself get into another debate about the women with Harley, and in front of their guests no less?
“They’re women,” he defended even as Harley snorted. “We’re men.”
Harley took a long drink from his cup. “You was boys, wet-nosed boys who couldn’t tell the difference atween a badger and a skunk. I taught ya all how to survive. These gals can learn just the same. So can Patrick.”
Josie, the youngest of the Hudson sisters came from inside the cabin carrying a Dutch oven. Her eyes darted to the old man, then shifted to Ethan and Daniel. She quickly averted her eyes. Harley waved a hand in her direction.
“Why, li’l Josie can shoot as good as Travis a’ready.”
Travis, who stood by the table, scoffed for all to hear. He scowled and shot a challenging glare at the young girl. Josie set the oven on the table, and rushed back into the cabin. Daniel’s lips twitched while Aimee giggled. She came up beside her husband and wrapped both her arms around one of his.
“Daniel used to think the same thing about me, Ethan.” Her smile widened. “He was adamant to get me out of the mountains when we first met, isn’t that right, Daniel?” She gazed up at her husband.
Daniel smiled and nodded dutifully before his eyes went to Ethan.
“My wife proved to me she was strong enough to live a life away from civilization. The greater the pull of attraction became, the more I tried to deny it and tell myself that she needed to go.” His face took on a serious expression. “My stubborn attitude nearly cost me my life, and the woman I love.”
Ethan smirked. He shook his head. There was no ‘pull of attraction’ for any of these women. All they’d done was disrupt his quiet existence.
“Cora’s sisters might not mind living in this valley, but Anna Porter sure doesn’t want to be here. She’s already made that plain as day.”
“And here I figgered you didn’t pay no attention to what the women was sayin’,” Harley chuckled. “If ya warn’t so surly all the time, scarin’ that young lady half ta death every time ya cross her path, she might not wanna up an’ leave.”
A twinge of guilt passed through him. To ward off the feeling, he bent and grabbed for a large piece of wood, which he set on the chopping block. Swinging the ax over his head, he brought it down with more force than necessary to split the piece in half. The two pieces bounced off the block and landed several feet away. Harley chuckled. Ethan gritted his teeth and reached for another piece of wood.
“Supper’s ready,” Cora called. She set a large platter in the center of the table with several roasted pheasants on it.
“About time,” Travis chimed. “I’m starvin’.”
“You’re always starving, Travis Wilder,” Cora said with a laugh. She swatted his hand away when he reached for a slice of bread. “Don’t you dare start until everyone’s at the table.”
“We been eatin’ like kings since the women come to the valley,” Harley said to Daniel, smacking his lips. He patted his old friend on the back and nudged him toward the table. “Cora an’ her sisters shore know how ta cook a good meal, but there ain’t no one who can make biscuits like Miss Anna Porter.”
Ethan scanned the yard. Caroline emerged from the cabin carrying a steaming bowl. Where was Anna? Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen her since he’d walked away from the cabin with mud on his face.
The look of fear in her eyes when he’d towered over her in his anger sent another dose of guilt through him. She’d covered up that fear with annoyance and had stood her ground, something she’d never done before, at least not with him.
She’d mostly avoided him, especially after the one time he’d chased her away from his bunk in the cabin when she was collecting dirty laundry. She’d had no business going through his personal things, and she’d stayed away ever since he’d told her so. His brothers and Harley might be agreeable to having a woman do their laundry, but he wanted no part in it. Keeping his distance from the woman was for the best. Except for quick greetings or general questions, she probably hadn’t spoken more than five words to him in all the time she’d been here, until today when she’d told him he was rude.
Ethan looked toward the cabin door again. He shrugged. What difference did it make if Anna Porter was present? When had he wasted even a moment thinking about her? He straightened. There had been times when he’d caught himself thinking about her, even watching her from afar. He shook his head. He had no business thinking of Anna Porter or any other woman.
No. Every time his thoughts had drifted to her, it had been to think about how nice and orderly his life had been before she’d come to the valley. Or at least as orderly as it could be with his brothers always up to no good.
Absently, he shaved kindling from the piece of wood he still held in his hand. After supper, he’d tan Travis’ hide for not getting the wood chopped. A flutter coming from the women’s cabin caught his eye.
Anna Porter emerged from the cabin, her skirts swishing around her legs in the breeze. She raised her hand to her head to hold on to the thing covering her dark hair. His eyes fixed on her as if he’d never seen her before. There was something different about her that he couldn’t put his finger on. He’d never noticed how she walked with her back straight and her head held high, or how the swaying of her hips made her dress rustle around her legs as if enticing him.
His eyes followed her as she approached the gathering in the yard. Ethan slid the ax down the block of wood, his focus lost on what he was doing. Faster than he could blink an eye, the sharp blade snagged on a knot in the wood, then slipped and sliced into his hand. Ethan cursed loud enough for all to hear.
He dropped the ax to grab his wrist as blood gushed from a deep cut in his palm. He gritted his teeth and cursed again. Of all the fool-headed things he’d done, he’d never cut himself with an ax blade before. His eyes shot again to Anna Porter, who’d reached the table at that moment. Her eyes, along with everyone else’s, were directed at him.
Caroline gasped when she saw the hand he held up. Aimee Osborne jumped from her seat in a fluid movement that belied her age. She rushed to his side, grabbing for his wrist.
“Sit, Ethan,” she commanded. Without thinking twice about it, he did as he was told, sitting on the old chopping block. She raised his hand higher over his head.
“Daniel, grab my medical pouch,” she called over her shoulder. “I left it on the table in Nathaniel’s cabin.” Turning back to look at the injured hand, she said, “Maybe you should lie on the ground. That’s quite a bleeder.”
“What in tarnation did ya do that fer?” Harley called, walking over and staring down at him. He pointed at Ethan’s bleeding hand. Blood continued to run down his arm, soaking the sleeve of his shirt.
“He’s just looking for attention,”
Cora shushed him while Nathaniel reached across the table and cuffed his younger brother across the head. Travis ducked, hitting his chin against his plate and splattering greens and meat onto his lap. He jumped to his feet, knocking the chair out from under him. Travis shot Ethan a scalding look as if it was his fault that he’d dumped his food. Ethan returned his brother’s scowl. Served him right.
Aimee tore a fringe of hide from Trevor’s shirt, who’d come up beside her. She tied it around Ethan’s wrist, making his hand pulse.
“Trevor, I need sugar.” The older woman shot a quick glance at Ethan’s brother. “Unless you know where to find a large amount of spider webs.”
“Spider webs?” Caroline gaped at Aimee.
“They help stop bleeding, but I think I’d rather have sugar. It’s cleaner in this case, and I don’t think we’d find enough in a short amount of time.”
Ethan’s eyes volleyed between the two. What in tarnation were they talking about?
“I’ll get the sugar,” Caroline offered, and rushed into the cabin. She returned a few moments later, carrying a pewter crock.
“Hold out your hand, Ethan.” Aimee Osborne didn’t wait for Ethan to do as she asked. She grabbed his hand and held it palm-up, then poured some of the contents of the crock onto it. The white crystals quickly turned crimson.
“Who has a clean cloth?”
“I do. It’s freshly laundered.” Anna Porter stepped forward and held out a white handkerchief. It was embroidered at the corners with neat stitches resembling flowers. Ethan glanced up, meeting her gaze for a split-second before she averted her eyes. Aimee wrapped the cloth around his hand.
“I’ll have to see how deep this cut is once it stops bleeding,” she said, looking at him. “Then I can sew it up. For now, keep your hand above your head.”
Daniel returned at that moment, carrying a leather pouch. Aimee rummaged through it, pulling out a smaller pouch. She unrolled a brown-tinted bottle wrapped in thick leather.
“There’s hot water simmering over the hearth,” Cora offered. “Do you need some of that?”
Aimee nodded. “Has it been boiling?”
“Yes, for quite a while earlier.”
“Can you bring me a pitcher with some of the boiled water and a cup, and drop my needle and some thread in it. And if Harley has any whiskey in the house, bring some of that, too.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Cora took the pouch Aimee handed her. The healer returned her attention to Ethan. “I can give you some laudanum for pain when I stich up the hand.”
Ethan looked at her. He shook his head. “No need,” he grumbled, perfectly aware that everyone’s eyes were on him. If he showed any weakness by asking for something to dull the searing pain, he’d never live it down with his brothers. His eyes involuntarily drifted to Anna, who stood the furthest away. The muscles along his shoulders stiffened. If it hadn’t been for her coming out of the cabin when she did and caught his eye, he wouldn’t have sliced his hand open.
“Suit yourself.” Aimee shook her head and threw him an indulgent smile, as if she’d received the same answer countless times before. She leaned forward, and whispered so only he could hear, “No need to prove anything to anyone here, Ethan. You won’t lose the respect of your family if you choose not to be in pain.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said between gritted teeth. Aimee nodded and straightened, no doubt knowing that his answer wouldn’t change.
She inspected his wound, unwrapping the blood-soaked handkerchief from his hand. The sugar had dissolved into a runny, red substance, and dripped from his hand to the ground, revealing a gaping slice in his palm. Cora returned with a tin cup, a bowl, and a pitcher steaming with hot water, and a bottle of Harley’s whiskey. Aimee poured some of the alcohol into the cup, then raised it to Ethan’s hand.
“This is going to sting,” she said. Before he could react, she poured the contents over his palm.
Ethan hissed, trying to pull his hand back, but Aimee held tight. She smiled. “Told you it would sting. Just trying to get it clean before I sew it up.” She brought his hand closer to her face, inspecting the wound. “I can’t tell, but it doesn’t look like you sliced through any tendons. Can you stretch and bend your fingers?”
Ethan tentatively moved his fingers to fully open his palm. The pain intensified, as if hot needles stabbed at him repeatedly. He clenched his jaw. Aimee nodded in satisfaction.
“You may not want laudanum for when I sew you up, but you will drink some willow bark tea. It’ll help with any pain later.” Her stern look dared him to decline, so he simply nodded.
“Can someone brew some willow bark tea?” Aimee asked no one in particular.
“I’ll do it.”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed when Anna stepped forward. She looked his way for a fraction of a second, then turned her gaze on Aimee.
“I have several satchels of herbs in my bag. Willow bark looks like dark wood shavings. Steep about a spoonful in a cup of hot water.” She offered a smile to Anna, who nodded and reached for the leather pouch at Aimee’s feet.
Without looking at Ethan, she rushed to the cabin. Ethan’s eyes lingered on her retreating form. Why would she offer to help? He glanced around. Harley and Daniel sat at the table, along with Travis, who stared longingly at the food in front of him. Josie sat by herself at the far end of the table, not looking at anyone in particular.
When Cora returned with Aimee’s sewing materials, Trevor and Caroline hovered around her. Aimee rinsed her hands, then glanced at Trevor.
“Pour some whiskey over my hands, please,” she said, holding her needle and thread.
“Whatcha wastin’ my good whiskey fer?” Harley called from the table. He looked as if an entire year’s cache of animal furs had gone up in flames as he watched his whiskey drip to the ground.
Ethan grimaced, and perspiration beaded on his forehead when Aimee began to stich the wound together, but he forced his hand to remain quiet while she worked. Thankfully, she was quick and efficient. When she was done, she wrapped a bandage around his hand and wrist.
“You won’t have use of your hand for about a week,” she said, rinsing the blood from her own hands. “Daniel and I won’t be here, but Trevor can take the stitches out in a couple of weeks. I’ll leave instructions with your brother in case there is infection, but if you keep it clean, it should heal just fine.”
“Much obliged to you,” Ethan said. Aimee nodded, and joined Harley and her husband at the table.
“That was incredible what you did, Mrs. Osborne,” Caroline said, looking at Aimee with awe. She remained close by her side, and whatever else was said was lost to Ethan.
“Can we eat now?” Travis asked. “Food’s getting cold.”
“Yeah, ya best eat afore ya starve, Trav,” Harley chortled. He raised his cup of whiskey-laced coffee, and reached for a piece of bread. “An’ someone hand me my bottle a whiskey afore it all gets spilt on the dirt.”
Ethan flexed his arm but couldn’t fully extend his fingers with the bandage wrapped around his palm and wrist. Of all the dumb luck, why did he have to cut his hand? He’d be useless to do much of anything for a few days.
He moved to stand when Anna emerged from the main cabin. She glanced his way, paused, then squared her shoulders and headed directly for him. Ethan groaned. He didn’t want to talk to her. He owed her an apology for calling her witless earlier this afternoon, but not in front of his family and friends.
“Here’s your tea. Best drink it while it’s hot.”
Anna held the cup out to him. Ethan stood. Having her look down at him made the back of his neck itch. He raised himself to his full height in front of her, standing several inches taller than she.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, and took the cup she offered. He wrinkled his nose at the bitter smell coming from the cup. Anything medicinal never tasted good. Anna remained in front of him for several seconds. There was a silent challenge in her eyes, as if testing him to see if he would drink the contents of the cup.
He raised it to his lips, holding it out to her first in a gesture of a toast, then drained the contents in one long swallow. He shuddered at the bitter taste and the tingling feeling as the liquid went down his throat. When he lowered the cup, Anna had already stepped away with her back turned to him. She took her seat at the table next to Josie without another glance his way.
Ethan took a step forward to join everyone for supper. His stomach roiled and heat raced up his face. His body suddenly heated as if he’d stepped through steam in one of those mud pools up on the Yellowstone. Nausea slammed him with such force, he gripped at his stomach and leaned forward. He shot a quick look toward the table and Anna Porter. She glanced his way at that moment and their eyes met.
“You trying to poison me on top of everything else you’ve already done to me today, woman?” he croaked, then rushed behind the cabin toward the trees to empty his stomach contents.
Chapter Five
“I gave him some mint to chew on to soothe his stomach.” Aimee Osborne emerged from the cabin. “He’ll be fine in a day or two, I’m sure, but he’ll probably be in some discomfort for the rest of the night.” She glanced around, looking at everyone gathered around the table.
Anna shook her head. If only the ground could swallow her up. The men had all finished eating their cold supper as if nothing had happened. No one seemed too concerned for Ethan’s well-being, as if it was a normal occurrence that a member of their family had almost cut off his hand and then nearly died from poisoning. Across the table from her, Travis sniggered.
“Maybe I’ve been going about taking Ethan down a notch or two all wrong.” He grinned, nudging his chin toward Anna. “I ain’t never seen him so green in the face, or willing to take to his bunk and admit he wasn’t feeling well.”
“You’d be howling like a baby if you’d had to endure half of what’s happened to your brother today, Travis,” Cora scolded.
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