Chapter 28
28
L eah trudged through the snow with another huge mound of hay in her arms. The animals always showed such obvious appreciation as they tore into the fodder with enthusiasm.
But this working in the snow was hard. She would never admit such a thing, but it wasn’t nearly as much fun without Gideon there, either. Still, she was doing what needed to be done, and that in itself was rewarding.
After the hay was out, she finally made a decent size hole in the ice at the creek. Now she should doctor the animals the way Gideon had showed her.
She wandered around the herd, applying the black salve on injuries. The cow with the oversized calf appeared to have gained a little weight since she’d seen it last. Gideon’s strategy seemed to be working.
She got the black cream on the cow’s udder without much trouble. The calf had a gash on the side of its nose, though, and that would need some medicine too.
The little guy was in an energetic mood. When she first approached, it bolted away, lunging through the high snow and stirring a few other calves to escape with him.
Leah tried again, edging in his direction with her clean glove outstretched. When she neared him, she crooned, “Come on, little fellow. I just need to put some medicine on you. It won’t hurt, I promise.”
He let her come close, but when she reached to grab his neck, the calf twisted away. With her upper body leaning forward but no calf there to catch her, she toppled into the icy snow. The frozen crystals covered her coat and snuck in under her collar, snatching her breath with its icy blast.
That little brat. She struggled to her feet and forced herself to creep toward the animal’s new location. Was he sticking his tongue out at her?
After two more tries, she succeeded in swiping the black goo across the obstinate calf’s wet muzzle. She dragged herself back toward the little barn, removed the glove she’d used for the medicine, and closed the door, barring it in place.
When she turned to the spot where she’d tied her mare by the tree line, she stopped and stared. Surely her eyes were deceiving her. There, where she’d tied one horse, now stood two—both wearing saddle and bridle and nuzzling each other affectionately.
Leah stepped forward. The second horse was Gideon’s gelding, the one that had been missing since his attack. She approached the animal with her hand out and let him sniff her until he seemed satisfied. Then she ran her hands down his neck and over his body on both sides. Both the reins were torn near the bit, and the saddle was covered with snow and scratches, but the horse seemed to have escaped injury.
She attached a rope to the gelding’s bridle and mounted her own mare, then began the long trek home. By the time they arrived, Leah was wet, frozen, and starved. Why hadn’t she packed food to sustain her under the hard work? Is this what Gideon went through every day? And on top of caring for the herds, he did all the hunting, splitting wood, repairs on the house and barn, and who knew what else.
Miriam met her in the yard, and her face lit up at the sight of the weary threesome. She motioned for Leah to dismount, then took the reins and rope, stroking the gelding’s wooly neck. “Where did you find him?”
“I’ll tell you inside. I’m frozen.”
Miriam gave her a sympathetic look. “Of course. You go in and warm up. I’ll take care of these two.”
Leah didn’t have the strength or desire to object. She nodded numbly and trudged toward the house.
When she opened the door, a wave of warmth hit her like a beautiful melody, bringing with it the aroma of stew. Her attention pulled toward the pallet in front of the fire, searching out Gideon’s face. He was where she’d left him, propped up on pillows and a sort of roguish half-smile on his face. She removed her jacket and gloves, then moved toward the fire.
“How did it go?” His warm voice did as much as the fire to thaw her aching body.
She turned from the flame to look at him. He’d changed into a clean shirt, the green one that always illuminated the emerald in his eyes.
“Everyone’s good. I found your saddle horse too.”
His brows rose. “Really? Where at? Is he all right?”
Leah nodded, the corners of her mouth pulling at the eagerness in his voice. “He showed up next to my mare just before I left the herd. His reins were broken and a few scratches on the saddle, but other than that, he didn’t seem any worse for wear.”
Gideon’s features relaxed as she spoke. “Good. Did you have any trouble cracking the ice in the creek?”
Memories of the half hour she’d spent hacking at the stuff with that heavy ax flitted through Leah’s mind. But no need to worry him with that kind of detail. “I got it done.”
She forced her frozen cheeks into a reassuring smile. “I cracked the ice and doctored the cuts and put out hay. Which reminds me, there’s not much hay left in that shed, maybe enough for another day. Is there more somewhere else?”
Gideon’s brows knit and he pursed his lips. “They’ll need to move to the north pasture soon. I have more hay stored there, and the grass is tall under the snow.”
Leah put on her best I-don’t-think-so face. “Just so you know, unless that can wait at least two weeks, you’re not going to be the one moving them anywhere.”
His brows left their thoughtful furrow to raise high on his forehead, lending to his annoyed expression. “I’ll do what I need to do.” He ground out the words through a tight jaw.
Perhaps discretion would be the better part of valor in this case. After all, they had at least one more day to argue about this before she moved the cows herself.
Leah moved from in front of the fire to sit in the chair near Gideon’s feet. She tried to keep her posture as friendly as possible. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”
The muscles in his face relaxed, and his eyes softened to a friendly glow. “Some better. My ribs hurt to move or breathe, but the throbbing in my head’s down to a dull roar.”
“And you’ve been lying still all day? Not up at all?”
His easy expression changed to a dark look. “Yes, thanks to the prison guard you posted.”
Leah couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Sounds like Miriam’s been obeying orders. Good girl.”
The sounds drifted to Gideon of Leah stacking used dishes on the kitchen table. The way his pallet was positioned, he couldn’t see her without craning his neck—and that would make it very obvious he was watching.
So he allowed his gaze to drift toward the fire and his mind to picture the image Leah made across the room. She was something to see, with her slender womanly frame and the elegant way she moved, even when she carried a stack of dirty dishes to the wash basin.
It was getting harder to remind himself he wasn’t going to let another person close again. With the spunk, wisdom, and sheer determination she possessed in that pretty little package, Leah could easily fit into his world like his buckskin gloves fit his hands. But he would not love and lose again.
“Gideon.”
The musical voice behind him jerked his attention away from the fire. Leah stood beside his pallet, apprehension tightening her face and a stack of folded bandages in her hands. She really did look like an angel.
“Yes.” His voice caught on the word, probably because his mouth had gone dry.
She wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I…need to change your bandages.”
It took a moment for the meaning of her words to sink in, then his mind ran ahead to what it would be like for this woman to tend his wounds. He wasn’t sure he could handle that. She would be very close. Close enough to weaken his willpower.
“Miriam can do it.” Harshness sharpened his tone, so he tried to moderate it. “When she gets back from the barn.”
Leah nibbled her lower lip. She looked nervous, but maybe that was uncertainty instead.
She took a deep breath, her pretty little nostrils flaring with the action. “I…don’t think that’s a good idea. Miri, well…” She released the breath and finally met his gaze. “Your wounds are pretty bad. It was hard for Miriam, with the bear and you hurt. She didn’t do so well. I…I just thought it would be a good idea if she didn’t have to see it again until you’d healed some.”
He was a selfish heel. All he’d been thinking about was himself, but Leah was trying to save his baby sister from more pain. He nodded, heat seeping up his neck.
While Leah settled herself on the floor next to him, he unbuttoned his shirt and steeled his nerves.
She looked at his bandages for a moment, then said, “Do you think you can raise up on your elbows so I can remove the dressing?”
This was going to be tricky. Any time he used his stomach muscles, his ribs felt like a hot branding iron searing his insides. Still, he’d have to do this and not let on he was in pain, or Leah would never let him out of this confounded cabin.
He leveraged first one elbow, then the next, clenching his jaw against the fire inside. Thankfully, she worked fast, and the pain almost kept him from noticing when she wrapped her hands around his chest to pass the roll of bandage from one side to the other under his back. Almost.
“There, you can lie back now.”
Good thing, too, ’cause his muscles were one breath away from turning to jelly.
Once he’d lowered, he focused on keeping his breathing slow and even while Leah examined his cuts and dabbed them with a wet rag. Then she laid clean Juniper leaves and cloth squares over his wounds, and picked up another long bandage. He bit his lip, mentally preparing for what was coming next.
“Do you think you can raise up again?”
If only he could say no. But instead, he forced his elbows underneath his body once more and squeezed his eyes shut against the agony.
It seemed like a very long time before she said, “I’m done.”
He fell back, exhausted, and measured each breath so as not to stress his ribs. Something tugged on his shirt, and he opened his eyes. There was his angel—the one who had just put him through so much agony—sweetly fastening the buttons on his shirt.
He reached a hand to stop her. Doing his own buttons was the least he could manage. When he touched her, she froze, her eyes drifting up to meet his. His gut squeezed at her tortured expression.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
It was all he could do not to pull her to him and kiss her until all the pain in his body and soul was gone. Instead, he slipped his hand around her soft, slender one, then raised it to his lips.
He meant to kiss the tops of her fingers, like a knight greeting his princess. But his mouth found its way to the soft, fleshy part of her palm. He savored a single kiss, then his eyes found her gaze again. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”
“And don’t forget to take the supplies to the north pasture first before you move the animals.”
A smile tugged Leah’s face at Gideon’s fourth reminder. She straightened the oversize buckskin tunic over her coat and turned with a grin to the pallet where he was propped on pillows. “Yes, sir.”
The lines on his face fell. He ran a hand through his hair, and her heart tugged at the frustration on his face. He released a sigh. “I hate being stuck here while you do all the work.”
She knelt beside him. His earnest green eyes drew her like always. “I know you do, but you’ll be out there sooner if you let yourself heal now. Besides”—she sat back on her heels, giving him a sweet smile—“I’m finally getting the chance to really help around here. Please don’t spoil my fun.”
His lips twitched at that, and she rose to her feet and wrapped the scarf around her head. The thickness of her layers made it harder to move, but she relished the softness of Gideon’s buckskin. Just the fact that it was his heated her insides much more than the abundance of clothing she wore.
The cabin door opened, and Miriam stomped in, shaking the snow from her skirt. “Brrr. Leah, your horse is saddled and ready for ya.”
“And I’m ready, too.” She pulled on her last glove.
“You’re taking Drifter, right?” Gideon asked. “Where is that dog?”
On cue, the click of toenails on wood sounded the animal’s presence as he trotted from the direction of Leah’s bedchamber. She reached a hand to him and he came willingly, his tongue lolling as she stroked his head.
“Looks like he’s chosen a new master.” Gideon’s tone was grumpy, reminding Leah of that first day when he’d been so angry about Drifter’s friendliness toward her.
She studied Gideon’s face now to gauge his temperament. Through the four-day stubble around his mouth, his lips pinched in a firm line. Her gaze drifted up to his eyes. Would she find a storm brewing there? Or worse—the impassive expression he used to mask his fears. Instead, there was the faintest glimmer of a twinkle, and it sent her heartbeat into double time.
She turned toward the door. She needed to leave now if she was going to. “I guess I’m off then.”
Miriam followed her onto the porch, and Leah turned to face her. “Please make sure he doesn’t get up today, Miri, unless he absolutely must. His color is looking better, but he could injure the rib bones again if he moves around too much.”
Her friend placed a hand on Leah’s arm. The pressure felt slight under all her clothing. “I’ll take good care of him. Don’t worry. Just be careful out there.”
Miriam’s clear green eyes were so kind and her concerned smile so sweet, Leah couldn’t stop an impulsive hug. “I know you will. I’ll be back before dark.”