Chapter 22 #2
Wolf Heart jutted his chin. “I watch. My men watch. Not do you harm. You do good. You make family. You keep boy more winters. But one moon when older, I come for him, show him way of his people.”
Ben straightened. “I’m taking my family inside our home. You and your men leave. And next time you want to visit your nephew, knock at the gate.”
Wolf Heart chuckled. “You talk big.” He waved toward the house. “Woman, take care your warrior. Bleeding.”
Cora blinked at him.
Before she could react, Ben took her by the arm and motioned Charlie to his side as he limped toward the house. “We’ll figure it out later,” he whispered as he led his family onto the porch.
Marry Cora? Be a father to Charlie. His mind reeled. Stay in Texas? Break his engagement. Give up the newspaper? The back of his lower ribs throbbed. And bile from the punches to his gut burned his throat. Not to mention the cacophony of aches that pulsated throughout his face and head.
But as Cora lowered the bar across the now-shut door and clicked the lock, he pivoted and pulled her into his arms with no intention of letting go. He could have lost her and Charlie.
Cora sank against Ben’s chest like parched earth soaking up rain, her body trembling almost as much as Ben’s battered one.
He could have been killed. A chill swept over her body.
Her hands dug into the back of Ben’s rumpled undershirt and held on tight.
Thank God, Ben was alive, standing, and breathing.
Thank God, they hadn’t taken Charlie. That they were all still here safe.
Charlie came alongside and hugged them both.
Ben slipped one hand from Cora and wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders.
Jack scurried around their feet, panting.
Safe. Cora bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut.
She choked back a sob. She wouldn’t cry.
Strong and steady beneath the hard wall of his chest, Ben’s heart pounded against her cheek.
His warmth permeated the dirty linen of his shirt and the thin cotton of her chemise, drawing her like a hummingbird to nectar.
Moisture dropped onto the back of her head. A metallic smell. Blood.
Her breath caught. What was she thinking? Releasing her hold, she pulled back a few inches, her hands still lingering on his sides as if they belonged there. “You’re bleeding.” Every inch of her wobbled.
“I’ll be all right.” His words slurred across his swollen lip, an open wound. Another cut marred his cheek just below his puffed-up eye.
Her fingers trembled to brush the hair from his brow, but would such a touch cross a line? “You need looking after.” She tugged him toward the parlor.
He hesitated in the doorway. “The kitchen. I’m too dirty for your fancy furniture.”
“It’s the parlor or my bed. I’m not sitting you down in any hardback kitchen chair.” She led him to the sofa, navigating by the hallway light, which filtered into the dark room. “Charlie, fetch me a pan of water and some rags.”
Ben groaned as he eased down onto the cushion and settled back, resting his head against the wall.
She grabbed her shawl from the stuffed chair where she’d left it. Draping it over her shoulders, she tied it in a knot across her chest before lighting a lamp and turning back to him.
How badly had he been hurt? Her gaze trailed over his dirt-smeared undershirt and trousers to his bare feet. “You didn’t even put your shoes on.”
He swiped his sleeve across a trickle of blood on his chin. “Can’t take time for shoes when a boy’s life is at stake.”
If this man didn’t hush, she was going to have to kiss him. Instead, she grabbed a doily and gently touched it to his cut mouth
A crevice formed across his brow. “The doily will never be the same.”
Neither would she. “I don’t care about the doily.” She sat beside him. The fold of her chemise brushed against his trouser leg.
“In the morning, you might.”
“Taking care of you is more important than a scrap of crochet or linen.”
His good eye widened. “I’m still the same man I was at dinner, Cora.”
“I didn’t quite know what I was talking about at dinner.”
His eyebrows shot up, along with a corner of his mouth.
Charlie pattered in. “Here you go.” Water threatened to slush over the sides of the basin. A towel dangled from his arm.
Cora hopped up and relieved him of his load.
Charlie knelt on the other side and patted Ben’s arm. “I’m sorry they hurt you.”
Ben lifted the boy’s chin and bore into him with a hard gaze that matched his tone. “They could have hurt you too. Don’t you ever go out there alone at night again.”
Charlie blinked back tears. “Jack wanted to go out.”
“We don’t care what Jack wants.” Cora dipped a clean cloth in the cool water. “You need to do as you’re told.”
Charlie swiped his eyes. “I will, but they’re not going to bother us anymore. Wolf Heart said so.”
“We’re not going to take his word for it.” Cora dabbed the cloth to Ben’s lip, her elbow grazing his chest.
Ben winced. “We’ll see if our horses are still in the stable tomorrow morning. That would be the first sign that maybe Wolf Heart meant what he said.” His words came out thick. “My body’s not feeling their goodwill.” He coughed. A grimace curled his lips. “Fetch a bucket, Charlie.”
The boy scurried to the kitchen.
Ben coughed again and bent forward, elbows on his knees.
“You all right?” Cora scooted out of the way.
“My stomach.” He choked.
Charlie clamored across the threshold.
Ben grabbed the bucket, hung his head down, and retched.
When he finished, Cora gave him a wet cloth to wipe his mouth, then handed the bucket to Charlie. “Cover it and put it by the back door. No one’s setting foot outside till morning. Then, bring Ben a cup of water and me the vinegar jug.”
Would there be a dead body waiting for them in the yard in the morning, or would the Comanche take their own with them? Her throat tightened.
Hand to Ben’s shoulder, she eased him back until he reclined against the wall once more. “Enough talking for now. You rest while I tend to your wounds.”
He nodded and laid his hands across his waist as she dabbed the cloth to his facial wounds, tinting the basin water red.
Charlie brought the glass of water and watched as Ben’s Adam’s apple bobbed with each swallow. “Ben’s going to be all right, Cora.” Brow in a deep furrow, the boy knelt and placed both palms on Ben’s thigh. “You don’t have to worry.”
Eyes barely open, Ben handed her the glass and ruffled Charlie’s hair. “Remember what your sister read to us about Daniel in the lion’s den and David in the caves hiding from Saul? God protected them.”
Charlie laid his cheek on his hand and gazed up at Ben. “God will protect us?”
Ben laid his head against the wall. “Yes, He will.”
Would He? What about Jeb? What about her uncle who had died at the hands of the Comanche?
And her dear mother who hadn’t lived to see the death of the husband who’d brought both pain and love?
Would her mother have been relieved or broken with more grief?
Cora bit back her doubt and poured vinegar on a rag. Her hand hovered over his chest.
Ben squinted his good eye at her and whispered, “What’s wrong?”
Fear. The past. The future. God help her. She’d fallen for the man before her. She shivered.
“You cold?” Concern filled his voice. The purplish hue beneath his left eye and over the lid continued to deepen.
A slight snore broke the silence. They glanced at Charlie. He’d fallen asleep, head still on Ben’s leg.
“The boy can stay in the parlor with me tonight if it’s all right with you,” Ben whispered. “He’s probably still shaken up.”
“So am I.” The words slipped out.
Their gazes met. “What do you propose?”
Best not say it. Better to wipe the possibility from her mind. “I need to finish cleaning you up.” She touched the vinegar to the cut on his cheek.
He flinched. “I could carry him to your room for you.”
“You’ll do no such thing. Not in your condition.” She wrinkled her nose at the smell of the liquid and continued to dab away.
More vinegar and more winces until she finished with his face.
The shutters rattled. The wind. Nothing but the wind. Still, her heart pattered. Dear Lord, please look after us…
She wrung out the rag. Ben didn’t stir. Surely, he hadn’t gone to sleep too. She touched his undershirt’s torn collar, close to where his pulse throbbed. His eye opened.
She bit her lip. “The warrior hit your chest pretty hard, and your stomach. I should check—”
“Never mind.” He latched onto her hand. “I can take care of the rest.”
“Of course.” Her cheeks heated. “I can go into the other room and leave you with the basin.”
“It can wait until tomorrow. I’m sure it’s nothing but bruises.”
“Bruises can be serious.”
“Nothing water’s going to help. I’ll heal.” His gaze caressed her face as he slowly released her hand. “You never said if you were cold.”
“Shaken. That’s all.” Trembling. Hungry for the comfort of his arms. On the verge of throwing good sense out the window. “I’ll go get blankets and pillows.”
“For Charlie and me?”
The wind rattled the shutters again. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
“All of us.”
All of us. Had she really said that? Ben gaped at her. In a flurry, she scurried across the threshold, scolding herself as she shuffled down the hall. No doubt she’d temporarily lost her mind. But she had no intention of sleeping in the back room by herself, jumping at every creak of the house.
In her room, she stripped her bed of its quilt, then dug in the cedar chest for a couple of blankets. Arms loaded and a trail of bedclothes dragging around her feet, she trudged back to the parlor.
By the time she returned, Ben had scooted Charlie onto the sofa and moved the end table with the cleaning and doctoring supplies off to the side.
He stood when she entered. “I’ll help with that.”
“No, you sit.” She dropped the blankets and pillows onto the center rug, heat crawling up her neck to her scalp.
What in the world was she doing? “I’ll fix a bed for me and Charlie on the far side of the carpet, and one for you closer to the sofa.
Just like when we camped out, except no stars, rocks, or critters.
” She knelt and worked to create order out of the jumble.
He lowered himself down to the edge of the sofa. “You never can tell when there might be a critter around.”
Was he trying to make fun of her, or merely teasing her? His leg jiggled up and down. Obviously, ill at ease with her impropriety. If she had any sense, she’d snatch up a blanket for herself and go hide in her room.
“You probably think I’m ridiculous.” She smoothed her grandmother’s quilt across the top layer for her and Charlie, then stretched out her thickest bedcover as padding for where Ben would sleep.
He studied her for a moment. “I think you’re rattled like the rest of us. And no one needs to be alone tonight.”
“Thank you.” She extinguished the lamp as Ben moved Charlie to the side of her bedding closest to the middle of the carpet.
The soft glow of the hall lamp she’d lowered to half wick cast long shadows and saved them from inky darkness.
As Ben slipped his hands from beneath Charlie, the boy’s eyes flickered open, his pupils huge. “I want to stay with Ben.” He latched onto Ben’s ankle.
“Don’t worry.” Cora knelt on the other side of him. “We’re camping out in the parlor. Ben will be here.”
The boy’s eyelids slipped closed as his head sank into the pillow. Cora tucked the blanket up to his chin, her gaze lingering on Ben’s swollen eye, lip, and bruised face. “I’m sorry they hurt you.” Her voice was barely more than a breath.
Ben’s gaze locked onto her. “I would do anything to protect you and Charlie.” His voice had thickened.
Goosebumps spread across her limbs. She’d been horrible to him for weeks. Too long. And he treated her like this? A well-spring of gratitude burst forth from her heart. Before she could think better of it, she reached across, grabbed Ben by the shoulders, and kissed him on the cheek.
He startled.
Warmth cascaded through her.
She jerked away from him before she did something even more wanton, like kiss him on the mouth. Tumbling backward, she landed on her bottom. Would her legs even work anymore?
Ben gaped at her, his one good eye opened wide and his lips parted, one corner of his mouth still swollen and puffy.
What had she done?
Turning from him, she dove under her blankets, curled into a ball, and pulled the pillow over her head. Suggesting they sleep in the same room, then laying her hands on him and kissing him? He’d be convinced she belonged in a saloon or worse. How could she ever show her face to him again?