Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Hannah’s hand slid from Rafe’s as she went down. She made a painful sound, her face contorting as she landed.
He was instantly kneeling beside her, sending pebbles and dirt skittering down the hill.
“Hannah?” He caught her eyes. It didn’t matter if she said she was fine, he could see the pain in them. “What happened? What hurts?”
She blinked a couple of times as if she was trying to make sense of it. “My ankle,” she finally said, pointing toward her right foot. “It went out from beneath me really fast and turned sideways.”
Rafe took her foot and gently turned it from side to side. Hannah sucked in a gasp, and he set it down as carefully as he could. “It doesn’t look as if anything is broken. Can you stand?” He rose, anchored his own feet as best he could, and reached down with both his hands.
She took them and attempted to pull herself up. There was another gasp, and she quickly sat down again. “I don’t think I can,” she said in a breathy voice.
Rafe stood a moment, thinking the situation through. He couldn’t leave her out here alone while he went to town to fetch a horse and wagon. And no one would happen upon them out here unless someone happened to be traveling north toward the scattered mining towns.
There was nothing to do except pick up Hannah and carry her home.
It wasn’t far, and the size difference between them would make it a little easier.
“I’m going to bend down, and I want you to wrap your arms around my neck,” he said.
Hannah did as he said. “You can’t—” she started, but he lifted her easily into his arms.
“I can,” he said with a grin.
“All the way to town?”
“I’m stronger than I look.”
“That isn’t what I meant. It’s a long way,” she said.
“It’s not.” He straightened and tested his footing. “The hardest part is getting down this hill.”
Almost as if she knew he needed to concentrate, Hannah didn’t say a word until they were off the mound.
Rafe was breathing hard, more from the fear of falling and dropping Hannah than from the actual exertion of navigating his way down the hill.
“Are you sure you’re all that strong?” she asked.
Rafe was about to rebut when he saw the gleam in her bright blue eyes. “This would only be a challenge if there were six of you.”
Hannah laughed as she shifted her hands behind his neck.
It was a small movement, but it was enough to send a shiver down his back.
She rested comfortably in his arms as he walked them both back to town.
It wasn’t how he’d imagined finally holding her close to him, but it was still unsettling in the best way.
And the way she watched him—it was as if she trusted him entirely.
No woman had ever looked at him like that.
Not that he’d had much exposure to decent ladies such as Hannah in his adult life.
Living in rough towns and places that couldn’t even pass for a town meant every woman who’d looked at him before had done so with a hidden agenda or as simply someone to pass a few hours with.
Not someone they ever wanted to really know. And certainly not someone they trusted.
“Everyone is looking at us,” Hannah said as he carried her into town.
“Let them look. I’m not risking you injuring yourself any further.” He tightened his grip on her and shot a glare at a ragged looking man who was outright staring at them.
When they reached the house, he maneuvered the key into the lock and shoved the door open with his foot. He set Hannah down on the bed. “May I take a look at it?” He pointed to her ankle.
“Please,” she said as she reached down to unlace her shoe.
But Rafe was faster. He fumbled a little on the thin laces but managed to work the ankle-high shoe from her foot without causing her any more pain.
As gently as he could, he held her foot and examined it as best he could.
It was impossible to tell if there was bruising beneath her stockings, but it certainly appeared to have swollen some.
“Stay here,” he said as he stood. “It doesn’t appear as if you’ve done permanent damage, but I’d feel better if the doc looked at it.”
“That’s not necessary—” Hannah started, but Rafe held up a hand.
“I’ll go right now.”
“But what about supper?” she asked, craning her neck toward the kitchen.
“I think I can put something together for the two of us,” he said with a smile. “Stay here.”
He left her with her arms crossed and an annoyed look on her face. It didn’t take long to find Dr. Stanton. He’d just returned home from treating a man Hawk had installed at the jail after Rafe had left. His new wife insisted on coming with him.
That was clearly the best decision, as Hannah’s face lit up at seeing one of her friends.
“Natalie!” she cried as the blonde woman ran toward her. They embraced, and Mrs. Stanton sat beside Hannah on the bed as the doctor took a look at her ankle.
“It’s a sprain,” Doc Stanton said after completing his examination. “It should heal just fine as long as you keep off it for a week.”
“A week!” Hannah looked appalled.
“A week,” the doctor confirmed.
“It isn’t that long,” Rafe said. “I can bring you something to do to keep you occupied. Newspapers, and books, if I can find any. I’ll buy you whatever sewing things you might want.”
“But what about the house? The laundry and cooking and everything.”
“Don’t worry about all of that.” Mrs. Stanton patted her hand. “The girls and I will help. In fact, I’ll be over first thing tomorrow morning,” she said eagerly.
Dr. Stanton frowned at her words, but then nodded. “I suppose that’s for the best.” He turned to Rafe. “Come get me immediately if the bruising worsens or her pain increases.”
Rafe nodded and escorted the doctor and his wife to the door.
After seeing them out, he went to the kitchen to see what he could do for supper.
There was the bread Hannah had made earlier.
After some searching, he found some cheese, slices of ham, a zucchini that Hannah must have gotten from Lina, and some butter.
If he made some coffee, it would be a decent sort of a meal.
He presented it on a plate to Hannah in bed, hoping she wouldn’t be too disappointed with it.
“Thank you,” she said as she took the plate from him. She didn’t waste a moment in taking a bite of the bread and butter. “This is like a picnic, almost like the one I would’ve brought to Prospect Mound if I’d thought of it.”
“It is, I suppose.” Rafe pulled a chair from across the room so he could sit near her. “Maybe if we imagine we’re still sitting out there, waiting to watch the sun go down, it’ll taste as good as the soup you were hoping to make tonight.”
Hannah laughed. “Maybe.”
They polished off the plates, hungry after everything that had happened. Hannah leaned back against the headboard, one hand on her stomach as Rafe took her plate.
“Thank you,” she said, reaching out to rest a hand on his arm. “Both for supper and for taking care of me.”
Rafe stilled, flattered by both her words and her touch. It was the first time she had reached for him. “Of course,” he said. “I’m your husband. It’s what I’m supposed to do.”
She rewarded him with the sweetest smile and a squeeze on his arm.
As Rafe brought the plates to the kitchen area, he couldn’t help grinning himself. How did he know what a husband was supposed to do? He hadn’t considered becoming one until he was coerced into it.
A week ago, he would have felt relieved if Hannah had decided not to marry him.
How was it that he now couldn’t imagine not having her here?