by Joyce Armor
Then she thought about his badge. He said he had bought it at a jewelry store. Well, couldn’t anyone do that? Maybe he didn’t want her to tell anyone he was a Texas Ranger because he wasn’t one. She felt such a heaviness in her stomach, she might have swallowed an anvil. It took her a minute to get control of her emotions and find that inner strength she knew she had.
Lindy O’Hare Bronson could be brilliant, too, she decided. She would watch and wait and guard her heart. Maybe Cal didn’t trust her because he wasn’t trustworthy. Perhaps the ranch was in trouble and he needed more money. And perhaps she would go crazy if she kept thinking about this. She realized, then, that she was standing in front of the postal office and went in. Pulling her letters from her reticule, she paid the clerk for the postage, 9 cents for three letters, to her two cousins and her family and hurried back to the mercantile. She was only there for five or six minutes before Cal showed up with the wagon.
“Did you find everything you wanted?” he asked as he jumped down.
If you only knew. “Yes.” It took an effort to smile, but she did.
He helped Brockmeyer load the wagon. When he came back with the last load, Lindy was already seated. He hopped up and clucked the horses on their way. Cal was surprised that his wife wasn’t chattering away as usual. She could be tired, he reasoned. They had enjoyed quite vigorous lovemaking sessions last night and this morning, if he did say so himself. He looked over at her and thought he saw a sad expression on her face.
“Is everything all right?”
She sighed. “Oh. Yes. I was thinking about two kids I met at the store. Toby and Bess. Do you know them?” That wasn’t what she had been thinking about at that moment, but she was concerned about the little tykes.
“Old man Cutter’s grandchildren.”
“I don’t think they’re being taken care of. They were dirty and their clothes were torn.”
“It’s a sticky situation. He’s their kin, and he greets anyone who stops by with a shotgun.”
“Is he crazy?”
“I don’t think so, just prideful and cantankerous. He did take the children in when he didn’t have to.”
She considered that. Maybe she could still find a way to help them. And devise a way to trust her husband. He obviously had no intention of telling her the truth. The only way to figure out what was really going on with him was to go on as if she didn’t suspect a thing. She surmised that might not be as hard as it seemed. She genuinely liked Cal, maybe even more than liked him. He had so many good qualities. If he was on the wrong path, perchance she could lead him back to righteousness. That was a fairly arrogant thought, but she knew love could build bridges. That’s when she turned to him and smiled.
Something was definitely going on with Lindy. First she appeared sad, then intrigued, now sparkling with what? Love? No, it couldn’t be that, but she seemed more her old self after a rather sullen beginning to the ride. Did Brockmeyer say something to upset her? Maybe she ran into Bethany and her toady.
“Could we go to church on Sunday?”
“If you want.”
The wagon hit a bump and he grabbed her arm, as he always did when that happened. Except now, his touch was so familiar it set a tingling through her body.
“Is there more than one church?”
“There’s two.”
“Let’s go to the one that doesn’t have the minister who married us.”
He laughed. “Whatever you want.”
Whatever I want? If only it were that easy. She wanted a husband who didn’t associate with the devil. She wanted a man she could trust, one who would trust her. She wanted a loving relationship based on mutual respect. She wanted at least three children. She wanted Toby and Bess to be safe and well cared for. She wanted to bake Cal Bronson the best peach pie he had ever tasted.
She looked at Cal out of the corner of her eye. Handsome, caring, thoughtful, protective Cal. Was she falling in love with a lawman or a criminal?
Chapter 5
On Sunday, Lindy woke up not feeling too well. She just felt kind of achy all over. She didn’t want to miss church, however, and decided to soldier on. She put on her best dress, a light blue gown with embroidery on the sleeves and lace trim. Cal looked so handsome in his white shirt, black trousers and vest and a string tie.
She never would have thought she could be a person who felt such a deep, elemental connection to someone who could be a criminal. Her heart kept telling her he was an undercover lawman, but her head kept insisting she would be a naïve fool to believe that. Against her will, she thought of Cory Anderssen again. Fool me once.
She was relieved to hear the sermon on loving thy neighbor, realizing the minister was not a “fire and brimstone” preacher, as she suspected the man who married them was. After the service was over, Cal suggested they go to the hotel for lunch, but Lindy begged off, telling him she was too tired. By now she truly felt awful but didn’t want to worry him. When he looked at her with concern, she just waved him off. By the time they were a couple of miles from home, however, she felt hot and then chilled and was started to see black spots. If Cal hadn’t happened to glance toward her at the exact moment he did, she would have fallen out of the wagon.
He grabbed onto her and pulled on the reins at the same time. She collapsed into his arms, and he was stunned to feel the heat emanating from her body.
“Lindy, you’re burning up. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”
“I…I…thought…”
That’s all she got out before she lapsed into unconsciousness. He carefully laid her down on the seat and jumped off the wagon. In the back, he spread out the old quilt he always carried, moving the fencing materials and Lindy’s packages, except one holding some yard goods. He placed that as a pillow. Then he carefully picked up his wife, who was limp as a rag doll and radiating heat, and laid her in the wagon bed. After that he got back on the wagon and urged the horses on as fast as he dared.
When he got to the ranch house he called out for Crane. The foreman, shirtless, came running out of the bunkhouse, recognizing the urgency in the boss’s voice. He saw the problem and stopped. Cal was carrying an insensate Lindy toward the ranch house.
“I need you or someone else to ride to town and get the doc. Lindy’s sick.”
“I’ll do it.” Crane turned and dashed back to the bunkhouse.
Cal managed to get the front door open and ran up the stairs with his precious cargo. After laying her carefully on the bed, he turned her over and began unbuttoning her dress. He almost smiled at how difficult it was for his big hands to undo all those tiny little buttons. How did she manage to button them all this morning? Just another one of her many talents. Lindy’s smooth back was covered in sweat. He managed to get her dress, shoes and stockings off, leaving her in her chemise. Then he ran downstairs to fetch a bucket of fresh water. Using a clean cloth, he bathed her head and body in cool water. He was relieved to see her eyes flutter open.
“Cal…what happened?”
He soaked the cloth in the bucket, rung it out and placed it on her forehead. “You’re sick, honey. You passed out in the wagon.”
“I’m sorry.”
He picked up her hand. She was still so hot. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
“I never get sick.”
He squeezed her hand. “Well, then you’re due.”
He heard a commotion downstairs and stood. “I’ll be right back.”
Felix stood in the entry. “Sorry, boss, I knocked, but nobody answered. Crane went to fetch the doctor. He wanted me to tell you Joe is sick, too.”
Cal cursed. “Get a couple of the boys to move him into the house, the second room on the right at the top of the stairs. We’d better isolate the patients until we know what we’re dealing with.”
With that, he headed back upstairs. Lindy’s eyes were closed and he couldn’t tell if she was asleep or unconscious. He removed the cloth on her forehead. It was already hot. When he replaced i
t with a cool cloth, her eyes opened again. They were glassy and unfocused.
“I don’t feel so good.”
“I know, sweetheart. Crane left to get the doctor.”
“Can…can you make willow bark tea? And broth would be good. There’s some chicken soup in the spring house, and broth from that would not go amiss.”
“So you’re going to treat yourself, are you?”
“Don’t yell at me when I’m sick.”
He chuckled. “I’m not yelling. I’ll go make the tea. You rest. You’ll be fine in no time.”
When he started to rise, she weakly grabbed his hand. “Cal?”
He sat back down. “What is it?”
“If I…if I don’t…if I die…”
“You won’t die, Lindy. I won’t let you.”
“If I…I just want you to know…You’re a good man. I think I…love you.”
He couldn’t believe how treasured she already was to him. He didn’t know if he had the strength or courage to ever love anyone again. Losing Jace had almost killed him. But he sure as heck admired Lindy Bronson and already could not picture his life without her. He carefully lifted her upper body into his arms, hugging her gently. He couldn’t lose her now. He wouldn’t.
After Cal made the tea, he helped her drink a couple swallows, which was all she could manage. He laid her back down and she grimaced.
“What hurts?”
She sighed. Even her sigh was weak. “Everything. My head. My joints. My neck. My hair.”
He smiled. “Your hair hurts?”
“Yes.”
He lifted her head from the pillow and gently pulled out the pins holding her bun in place, then ran his fingers through her hair. “Does that help?”
“That does feel good. Your fingers are magic.”
She began coughing then, fighting for breath. Where the hell was the doctor? He knew Crane was probably just arriving in town, but it didn’t keep him from fretting that the doc was taking too long.
He heard the men settling Joe in the room next door. He waited until Lindy caught her breath, then propped her up with pillows, hoping it would alleviate the need to cough. After that, he went back downstairs to pour a cup of willow bark tea for Joe and get the chicken soup from the spring house.
Doc Jenkins arrived an hour later. He was a wiry man who wore spectacles and always had his long black hair pulled back and tied with a leather strip. He typically looked like he slept in his clothes, and maybe he did. The sleeves of his wrinkled white shirt were rolled up. Despite his slightly disheveled appearance, or perhaps because of it, he had a reputation for being an excellent physician.
He examined Lindy first, with Cal hovering over him until the doctor, exasperated, told him to go heat up some broth to get him out of the way. He praised the rancher for giving the patients willow bark tea. After he examined both Lindy and Joe thoroughly, the doctor motioned to Cal, and they went downstairs.
“What is it, Doc?” Cal dreaded hearing “typhus” or “cholera” or some other often-fatal disease.
The doctor sighed. “I believe it’s influenza. I’ve seen several cases in the last few weeks.”
“Will she…will they…?”
“It’s most often deadly for the very young and the old…children and elderly people. Both your wife and your ranch hand are young and strong. They have a very good chance of surviving.”
Cal felt slightly relieved but the weight on his chest remained. The doc put a hand on his arm.
“There are no guarantees, however, Cal. Get as much liquid down them as you can, especially the willow bark tea, and keep washing them with cool cloths to hold down the fever. I’ll leave something for the headaches. There’s not much else medical science can do.”
“When will we know…?”
“Most likely forty-eight hours, give or take a few hours. You’re smart to keep them isolated. Do the same if anyone else comes down with it. If either of them gets any hotter and the sponging off doesn’t help, put them in a bath of cool, not cold, water. I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
“Would you like some coffee, Doc, or biscuits?”
“Thanks, I have three other patients to visit this morning and better get going. Although, I guess I could take a couple biscuits with me. Send for me if there’s a crisis.”
“I’ll pay you when this is all…done if that’s all right.”
“That’s fine.”
The doctor squeezed his shoulder again and picked up his medical bag.
“I’ll be right back with those biscuits.”
Lindy’s fever spiked that night, and Cal did put her in a cool bath. She struggled weakly against her husband at first, then settled down in the water with a happy sigh. She was never again unconscious, which he took as a good sign. She drank quite a bit of tea but didn’t get much of the broth down. Joe was feverish but not as sick as Lindy. The cool cloths helped to keep his temperature down. Though Cal thought he could have handled both patients, a couple of his ranch hands took turns looking after Joe.
It was just after dawn. Cal was dozing in the chair by Lindy’s bed, where he had spent the better part of the last 12 hours. He heard footsteps approaching and jerked awake. Crane walked into the room.
“Why don’t you go get some sleep, boss? I’ll sit with her.”
Cal started to object but realized he would be no good to Lindy or anyone else if he didn’t get some much needed rest. Wearily he rose. “All right. I’ll be on the sofa in my study. Wake me if there’s any change or if she needs me.”
“I will, boss. And don’t worry. She’s a fighter.”
He smiled. “That she is.”
Cal awoke several hours later when the doctor returned. Thirty minutes after that he pronounced both patients “holding their own,” which Cal took as a positive sign. The doctor ordered Cal to keep doing what he’d been doing and promised to return the following afternoon.
By then, both patients were on the road to recovery. Two days after that, Lindy in particularly was chafing at the bit, tired of being confined to her bed. Cal finally carried her downstairs and seated her by the fire in the front room. After covering her with a soft blanket, he went off to fix her a plate of toast and scrambled eggs.
She thanked him and ate slowly, savoring the meal. He watched her eat, pleased that her appetite had returned. It was apparent she had lost several pounds. She finished eating and sighed a woeful sigh.
“What’s wrong?”
“I know you must be behind in work after taking care of me, Cal.”
When he started to protest, she went on.
“If you would just do one other favor for me, I won’t bother you again.”
He walked over and knelt down beside her. “Lindy, dear, you can bother me any time you want. What do you need?”
“A hot bath and clean hair. I feel like I have bugs on my scalp.”
Cal heated up the water and carried several loads up to their bedroom, where he had moved the zinc tub during her illness. When he had tempered the boiling water with enough cold water to render the tub hot but not too hot, he turned to go carry Lindy upstairs to find her walking into the room.
“I was going to carry you.”
“I’ll never get my strength back if you carry me everywhere,” she said, closing the door behind her. Then she removed her robe.
Her filmy chemise left nothing to the imagination, and Cal felt guilty lusting after his frail wife, barely recovered from a life-threatening disease. And then she smiled, lighting up her face.
“You look kind of dirty too, husband.”
Her eyes had darkened. He knew that lustful look. His brain didn’t want to impede her recovery, but other body parts adamantly disagreed. He fought for control. Then she removed her nightgown and stood before him naked. Although he could see her ribs after her ordeal, that’s not what he was looking at. He was taking in her magnificent breasts, the silkiness of her skin, her ripe lips. He took a step toward her at the same time s
he approached him. They met and kissed tenderly, then more ardently, their bodies melding together.
When they pulled back, they both were breathing heavily. She smiled up at him. “You have too many clothes on.”
He took off his boots, socks and shirt and helped her into the tub.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“Let me help you get those bugs out of your hair first.”
And he proceeded to wash her hair, massaging her scalp until she almost had an orgasm right then. When he removed his pants and smalls and entered the tub, she scooted forward so he could sit behind her. Then it was just a matter of washing each other. She took particular joy in switching positions so she could wash his hair, hoping she gave him the identical delight she felt when he had done the same for her. When they got to washing each other’s nether regions, the bath abruptly ended. They rinsed off, stepped out of the tub and were passionately clasped to each other before they even dried themselves.
The lovemaking after that was slow and soft and tender and as satisfying an experience as they had ever enjoyed. After holding Lindy in his arms for a good while, Cal finally spoke.
“Much as I would love to stay here all day, I have to get back to my ranch work.”
She felt guilty for all the time away from his duties she had cost him. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help you catch up?”
He kissed her shoulder, then got up and started dressing. “Stop apologizing. Your job is to lie around and regain your strength.”
“If I lie around much longer, I’m going to have to throw a brick at somebody.”
He laughed.
“I can milk cows, you know. And gather eggs. And muck stalls. Let me help.”
