by Debra Cowan
He came around to scoop her up then settle her in the back.
She gave him a small smile. “Sorry to be so much trouble.”
“You aren’t any trouble.” He seemed to mean it. He eased her down gently onto the thick pile of blankets. “I sent a separate wire to Smith telling him about the attack. He can let your folks know. Shouldn’t be too long before you hear from one of them.”
“I hope not.”
Gideon clucked to the team and lightly slapped the reins against the horses’ rumps. The wagon lurched into motion.
She closed her eyes, uncertainty hammering through her with as much force as the headache. Her family was her last hope. If they couldn’t help, she didn’t know what she would do.
* * *
During the ride back to the farm, Gideon tried to leash his anger. Someone had just walked onto the farm and assaulted her. If it hadn’t been for the pup’s howling, he might have arrived after she’d been hurt worse. He’d nearly broken his neck in his rush to get to the barn and check out the disturbance.
Braking the wagon in front of the house, he scooted across the seat to hop down on the other side. He moved to the side of the wagon and froze, studying her. She lay so still, so pale that his stomach dropped.
“Ivy?”
The bonnet shaded her face, and after a moment she opened her eyes.
“We’re home. How are you doing?”
“All right.”
Pain still tightened her features, and she was wan. She started to push herself up.
“Stop that,” he said, harsher than he intended. “Don’t move.”
“My head is the most sore thing on me.”
“I don’t care.”
When she eased back onto the mound of quilts instead of arguing with him, he knew she hurt more than she let on.
He leaned over the side and smoothly pulled the bottom quilt toward him. He was able to move her without jostling, though that didn’t erase the discomfort from her face. The pup whimpered, standing on her back legs to scratch at the side of the wagon.
Gideon set the dog on the ground. Thunder watched as he slid one arm beneath Ivy’s shoulders and one beneath her legs then picked her up.
The specks of blood spotting her collar had him clenching his jaw tight enough to break a tooth. He reached down and flipped the gate latch with one finger then walked through.
Mixed with her soft magnolia scent were the smells of dirt and blood. And him.
“You can put me down,” she said quietly. “I’m sure I can walk.”
He shook his head. “I already found you on the ground once today. I ain’t lettin’ that happen again.”
To his surprise, she rested her head on his shoulder and slid an arm around his neck, her soft fingers resting gently on his scar. His nerves jumped. No one had ever touched the ragged mark that circled his throat. He didn’t want her touching it, but what he wanted didn’t matter right now.
He carried her inside. “Bedroom or sofa?”
“Bedroom, please.”
Elbowing her door open, he set her carefully on her feet then eased away from her slowly, watching her closely. Rage nipped at him again, and he tried to stem it. “Do you feel like eating?”
“No.” She touched the back of her head, wincing slightly.
Pain mixed with the fatigue in her voice, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Gideon hoped her eyes weren’t blacking due to the blow she’d taken.
The sun sank low, painting everything in a fiery radiance. The light coming through the half-drawn shade in her room cast a soft amber glow over her pinched features.
She stood unmoving for so long that he started to worry. “Ivy? Do you need help?”
He hoped not. The last thing he needed was to put her in bed. His body was tight, humming with awareness just from carrying her inside.
“I want to change my clothes.”
Oh, hell. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to force away the image of unbuttoning her green-striped dress and shucking her out of it. “Um.”
“I can do it myself,” she said testily.
“I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“I’ll call out if I need you.”
He hesitated then stepped outside. “I’m leaving the door open a bit. Just in case.”
“All right.”
As badly as he wanted to watch, and not only to make sure she was okay, he turned away and braced his back against the wall.
Her shoes thumped against the floor when she removed them. From the corner of his eye, he saw her hand go to her bodice.
“Did you see anyone running away from the house?” Her voice was faint. “When you found me in the barn?”
“No.” He wasn’t sure she should be talking.
“Did you find any footprints? Earlier, you said you thought the attacker was a man.”
“I found boot prints, but I was in such a hurry to get to you that I ran over them. How’re you coming there?”
“Fine.”
“The prints weren’t trackable so I can’t identify them as the same ones I found in the woods.” Gideon beat back the anger seething inside him. Who had hurt her?
“Did you find what he used to hit me?”
“No, sorry. I didn’t come across rocks or pieces of wood with blood. Nothing with blood.”
“He must’ve taken it with him.”
“It’s possible.” The bastard might also have brought it.
Her skirts made a soft swishing sound, and Gideon imagined her stepping out of her dress. Then her petticoats. Then her chemise. A vision flashed through his mind of her raven hair falling down around her bare shoulders, soft plump breasts, the tight tuck of her waist.
Hell. He was getting himself worked up. She was injured, for cryin’ out loud! He cleared his throat. “I’m going to sleep outside your window tonight.”
“No.”
He straightened. “Listen here, I’ll pack you up and take you to the doc.”
“I mean, you’re not sleeping outside on the ground. You can sleep in the house. There are three spare rooms on the other side of the front room.”
Resting in a real bed sounded good, but he wasn’t sure if it was the best idea. “Outside your window will put me closer.”
“I don’t want to be... Would you stay in the house? Please?” Her voice shook, and her next words were grudging. “It would make me feel better.”
He understood finally that she didn’t want to be alone; she just wasn’t willing to say so.
“Yes, I’ll bed down in the living room.” Besides, being within steps of her, he would be able to see the door as well as the long hall leading to the back.
A barely audible moan sounded, then he heard the creak of the bed ropes.
“Ivy?”
“You can come in if you want.”
He turned, seeing that she was in bed with the sheet and quilt pulled up to her chin. All he could see was her face and elegant neck. Her eyes were huge dark pools clouded with pain. Anger stirred again.
“You all right?” he asked.
“I will be. Did I already thank you?”
“For what?” His voice was taut. “Letting you get hurt?”
“Are you blaming yourself?”
He was to blame. There was no one else here.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she insisted.
He didn’t agree, and he bet Smith wouldn’t, either.
“The man walked up right behind me, and I never knew it. This is not your fault.”
Maybe not, but it wasn’t going to happen again. He turned away. “You should try to sleep.”
“Mr. Black?”
“I’ll leave the door open and stay rig
ht out here.”
“All right.” Her voice was wispy, as if her energy was waning fast.
After a moment, he moved, but he only got a foot from the door before his legs did some funny wobbly thing. Dragging a hand down his face, he braced a shoulder against the wall, a strange, dark emotion crowding his chest.
It took him a moment to recognize it was fear. For Ivy. His heart had flat-out stopped when he’d seen her lying motionless in the barn, so small and fragile. The pup pacing in front of her like a sentry.
She’d scared the hell out of him. He didn’t know if he’d ever been that close to panicking about anything, including going to prison. He didn’t even try to deny that she was coming to mean more to him than she should. Feelings like this were dangerous, and he had to get rid of them. Put some distance between him and her.
Which was going to be damn hard since the only way he knew to keep her safe was to stick to her like a burr.
* * *
Ivy made breakfast the next morning, then set about wiping out the glass chimneys of the kerosene lamps then trimming the wicks. Gideon helped her wash the windows, and she knew he did it so he could keep a close eye on her, but she found she didn’t mind much. Though the knot on her head hurt and there was an occasional shaft of pain, the headache powders had helped.
It was thanks to Gideon that she hadn’t been hurt worse. For the second time, she was beholden to him, though she could’ve made her way to the doctor on her own if she’d been alone, provided the assailant hadn’t hurt her more seriously. That was thanks to Gideon, too.
She was getting used to him, a man who actually pulled his own weight and then some, but deep down she was afraid it was more than that.
As she emptied a bucket of water out back, she heard the jingle of harness and the approaching clop-clop of horses. She walked up the side of the house at the same time Gideon stepped out of the barn. He joined her at the porch.
Shading her eyes beneath the brim of her bonnet, she saw a familiar buggy carrying Mayor Jumper. Conrad rode horseback and reined his bay to a stop beside the carriage.
Dread knotted her stomach. Jumper was here for the stage line’s horses. She’d been expecting it. She just hadn’t known when he would come.
“Mrs. Powell,” the mayor greeted her from the buggy, his walking stick on the seat behind him. It was the one with the carved head.
She was hit all over again with the frustration she’d felt when the stage line had refused to do business with her. Had Jumper voted for or against her getting the bank loan?
Gideon didn’t speak as he fell into step beside her. Again she found herself glad not to be alone.
Jumper eyed her from beneath the bonnet of his vehicle. “I’ve come for the horses.”
“I kinda figured,” she said under her breath.
The mayor glanced across the yard to the corral, where several horses roamed about. “Looks like they’re all here. Except the one, of course.”
“Yes,” she said tightly. She’d boarded a total of ten here.
He gestured to the stage driver. “Conrad came along to help me get them to town.”
“The livery will be hard-pressed to find room for them all. Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Fine,” she said tightly before turning to Gideon. “Would you help them while I fetch one of my mares?”
He put a hand on her arm. “Are you really going to give him a horse?”
“I owe him one.”
The anvil-hard line of his jaw said he didn’t agree, but he didn’t argue. As she’d asked, he stalked across the yard and into the corral to help Conrad.
Ivy headed for the back pasture. As she returned leading the brown-and-white mare she’d chosen, Conrad jogged out to meet her.
His hazel gaze moved over her. “Sorry about this. I tried to talk Leo out of removing the animals.”
“I appreciate that.” She tried to soften her tone. Conrad wasn’t the one who irritated her at the moment.
He moved closer, though he didn’t touch her. “Is everything all right? I stopped by yesterday, and no one was here.”
“Things are fine.”
He put a hand on her shoulder, causing her to stiffen. “Elmer said he saw you at Doc Manning’s yesterday. He thought you were hurt.”
“It was nothing.” Although her head had started to pound again when he and Jumper arrived.
The stage driver’s gaze roamed her face and body, lingering too long on her breasts.
She narrowed her eyes, ready to lay into him. She had no patience for his nonsense today.
But when he spoke, there was only concern in his voice. “What happened? How were you hurt?”
“Just took a knock to the head.”
“You’re really okay?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He sounded genuinely relieved. As they approached the corral, he took the lead rope from her and led the mare to the line of other horses already waiting. He slipped a bridle on the mare and tied the reins to the tail of the horse in front of her.
Gideon joined her. Watching Conrad, his face was like stone, his gaze hard and sharp. “He botherin’ you?”
“Not really. He showed up here yesterday, and since no one was here, he wanted to know if everything was all right. He heard I was hurt.”
“Who told him that?”
Surprised, she glanced up. “Elmer Wright.”
Gideon’s eyes narrowed.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t like that Conrad showed up after we left for the doctor yesterday. Did you ask him why he was so far behind schedule?”
“No.” She could tell this really bothered him. “Do you think he’s the one who assaulted me?”
“It’s possible. He could’ve left the stage somewhere, walked here and attacked you then left.”
“I’ve been assuming the same person who set the trap also hit me. Conrad wasn’t around after the trap.”
“That we know about,” Gideon pointed out. “But he was around the day before your dog went missing.”
“True,” she said faintly as pain flared in her skull. She pressed a hand to her head.
Immediately, Gideon’s blue eyes fixed on her. “You all right?”
“Yes.”
He frowned, plainly skeptical.
Jumper scrutinized the horses then tossed Ivy a look. “Sorry it came to this, Mrs. Powell.”
She doubted that.
Conrad mounted his horse and tipped his hat to Ivy as he led the string of horses away. As the mayor turned his buggy, the thunder of hooves had Ivy looking past both men.
Coy Farrell came tearing up on his dun mare.
Ivy’s heart kicked hard. Maybe he had brought word from her family. If so, she hoped the news was good.
As Conrad and Leo left, Coy slid out of his saddle and jogged through the gate toward her. “Message, Miss Ivy. From your folks.”
Sucking in a breath, she took it, vaguely aware that the boy also gave a piece of paper to Gideon. She unfolded the telegram and scanned the words.
They hit her like a punch to the stomach. Her heart sank, and tears stung her eyes.
“Ivy?” Gideon inched closer.
She wanted to scream, to turn into him, to run. She struggled not to do any of that.
Coy’s concerned gaze slid tentatively to Gideon then to Ivy. “Do you want to reply?”
“Maybe later.” Giving him a forced smile, she dug a penny from her apron pocket and pressed it into his hand.
After another questioning glance at Gideon, the young man went back to his horse and swung up into the saddle.
Anger and frustration made her want to scream. She managed to keep her
anger under control until he rode off.
As dust plumed up from beneath the horse’s hooves, Gideon turned, his blue eyes dark. “They can’t help?”
She shook her head. Now what was she going to do?
“Is there anyone else you can ask?”
“No.” On the edge of panic, she fought a crushing sense of helplessness.
He lifted his hand as though to touch her, then seemed to reconsider. “If I had enough money, I’d loan it to you.”
She believed him, but it didn’t really help her. “Thank you.”
What was she going to do? Where could she turn?
Disappointed, discouraged, her temper snapped. “I can’t believe the bank turned me down! All because I don’t have a husband? Does having a husband mean I can repay a loan? I’m better with figures than Tom ever was.”
Gideon watched her warily.
“I need that money. I’ve got to have it.”
“Is there anything you can do? Do you have any ideas? I’ll help if I can.”
“If I want a loan from the bank, which right now appears to be my only option, I’m going to have to marry somebody.”
His head jerked back. “That seems desperate.”
“I am desperate.” She bit back a scream of pure rage. Another husband was the last thing she wanted, but if it allowed her to keep her home, then she would take one.
The whole idea made her skin shrivel, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d done something she didn’t like in order to make things work.
Her mind raced, considering the possible candidates. Coy was too young. Titus was too old. Roe was too good a friend. He would still have to live here after she obtained a divorce—and she had every intention of getting one—which might hurt his reputation. It could damage hers, too, though right now she didn’t care. She might need a husband in order to get her money, but she didn’t need one for life.
All the other men she knew were spoken for. Except Conrad. Ugh. Just the thought made her shudder. She stared absently at Gideon, taking in the daunting width of his shoulders, the craggy roughness of his features. The scar ringing his neck. The massive hands that were deceptively gentle.
She stilled. The answer was right in front of her.
Why not? Gideon was already here. She wouldn’t have to get used to someone else or put up with a second man. And there would be no danger of him wanting to stay once they discovered who was causing her trouble.
