Stacey Kayne Read online

  “Jed is not going to like this.” She rubbed her hand over a welt on the horse’s neck.

  “He will not,” Running Bear agreed. “Horse not friendly to man.”

  “Well, I’d gnash and buck too if someone took a switch to me.”

  Running Bear grinned, knowing his brave had been defending himself from being trampled. The woman before him would not believe this. He watched as she unbound the pack behind Jed’s saddle and slid it off. She nearly followed it to the ground as she struggled with the weight. She spoke gently to the horse as she reached for the cinch.

  Running Bear took another step closer.

  As he expected, the bastard horse sensed freedom the moment Imp unhooked all restraints of the saddle. Just as she gripped each end, the horse leaped forward, leaving the small woman to handle the weight of the saddle. He grabbed the heavy leather as it flattened her to the ground.

  “Jed say, always hobble horse first.” He hoisted the saddle onto his shoulder.

  “We can’t all be as sensible as Jed,” she grumbled, struggling to her feet. “But I’ll remember that next time.”

  “No need.” Running Bear shook his head. “Husband lift saddle next time.”

  “I hope so.”

  Running Bear saw great concern for his brother in the woman’s green eyes. Her strong spirit was a good match for Jed.

  “Come, Imp,” he said, walking back to the wickiup she would share with Jed. “You rest.”

  Rachell couldn’t deny her exhaustion. She followed the friendly Indian toward her shelter, and the crowd of people now gaping at her as though she were insane.

  A woman broke away from the group and walked toward Rachell and Running Bear. It was the same woman who had spread the blankets and fur out for Jed. Like Running Bear, the woman’s ears were pierced with metal ornaments and black bands were painted on her upper arms. The low neckline of her dress revealed more of the dark markings. Her long black hair spread across the shoulders of her buckskin dress. She carried something in her arms.

  Probably restraints, Rachell thought, again glancing at all the wide eyes and uncertain expressions of the others. Running Bear’s arm moved around her shoulders as he ushered her toward the woman. Hearing him say “Imp” as he spoke to the woman, Rachell realized she was being introduced.

  The Indian woman smiled and gave a greeting Rachell didn’t understand.

  Running Bear introduced the woman by a name which included well over ten syllables.

  “Could you say that again?” Rachell asked, although she was certain her tongue would trip over the long name, even if he repeated the lengthy title a hundred times.

  Running Bear grinned. “You call her Snow Flower.”

  “She’s your wife?”

  “Yes. She bring you dress.”

  “Thank you,” Rachell said, accepting the folded buckskin and moccasins. “My name is Rachell,” she said as they walked toward the hut she’d sprinted from.

  “Jed not call you Rachell.” Running Bear eyed her for a moment, then said, “I call you Imp.”

  Rachell hoped Jed had awakened while they were away. Running Bear certainly wouldn’t be swayed on this issue without Jed’s approval.

  Ducking inside, Rachell gave a sigh of disappointment at seeing Jed still lying unconscious. She squatted beside him and brushed a hand across his cheek, not liking his pale complexion. “He lost so much blood,” she said, thinking out loud.

  “His heart is strong.” Running Bear set Jed’s belongings at the far side of the shelter then turned to face her. His expression was warm, offering her reassurance. “Jed will be well.”

  Running Bear definitely shared Jed’s confidence. She wished she felt half the certainty she saw in his dark eyes. Realizing she still held her dry clothes, she set her moccasins on the blanket and stood, shaking out the tan dress.

  “This is so soft. It’s lovely.” She smiled up at Snow Flower. The woman smiled in response.

  “Snow Flower speak little of your language,” said Running Bear.

  “You speak English very well.”

  His lips stretched into a proud grin. “I was boy when my brother teach me his language.”

  Rachell drew a ragged breath as she glanced back at Jed.

  “No fear, Imp. Your brave is strong.” He stood and moved toward the door.

  “Thank you.”

  “Rest.” He released the flap of buckskin that was rolled up near the opening, letting it fall across the doorway as he and Snow Flower stepped outside.

  With darkness quickly claiming the sky, Rachell found the matches in Jed’s supplies and lit the lantern Running Bear had brought in with their other supplies. She shrugged off her wet clothes and pulled on the buckskin dress. The leather garment hung only a bit lower than her shortened skirt, but it was dry. And soft. Removing her soaked boots, she found the white, beaded moccasins to be just as comfortable and warm as the dress.

  Running Bear returned with a woven bowl filled with food. He seemed pleased to find her dressed in the Indian attire. He paid little attention to Jed as he asked if there was anything else she needed, encouraging her to speak up if she discovered she did, for his teepee was right beside theirs. His full confidence in Jed’s recovery amazed her.

  When he’d gone, Rachell sat beside Jed. She held the bowl of bread and meat on her lap for a long while before pushing it aside. She stroked the hair at his temple, running her fingers over his smooth black hair streaked with a bit of gray.

  During the war, she’d seen men in their twenties with heads full of gray hair. Jed wasn’t in his twenties, more likely thirties, she thought as she studied his strong cheekbones and sharp jaw line. Her hand followed her gaze as she traced the shadow of a beard, the stubble rough against her fingers.

  Even unconscious, Jed appeared strong, confident, hard. She brushed her fingers across the smooth skin at the corner of his eye which crinkled when he smiled, softening the harshness of his strong features.

  “My brave,” she said to herself. There was no question of Jed’s bravery. Twice now he had risked his own life to save hers. The kisses they’d shared were the most intimate experiences of Rachell’s life, yet Jed was far from being hers. He was merely tolerating her until he could unload her onto Elizabeth.

  And who could blame him? She had known him only a week and she’d already nearly gotten him killed.

  Surrounded by the sound of Jed’s steady breathing and the hiss of the lantern, Rachell laid her head against his chest, listening to the powerful beat of his heart helping to replenish the blood he’d lost.

  He will be well, she told herself, repeating Running Bear’s promise. She settled beside him, praying he’d wake soon.

  Rachell was awakened by the sound of someone calling her name.

  “Rachell?” Jed called again.

  Rachell bolted upright, her hands instantly moving over the man beside her. Under her palms, Jed’s chest rose and fell with his steady breaths. His eyes remained closed, his body relaxed, unmoving. Noticing the intense heat radiating up from Jed’s skin, she lifted a hand to his forehead.

  Oh, God. He’s burning up.

  “Imp?” a voice called from outside.

  “Running Bear!”

  Hearing the flap move, she glanced back to see him crouched in the opening. “Breakfast.” He held out a bowl.

  “No time.” She tossed the blanket covering Jed’s legs aside and reached for the hollow gourd of drinking water. “He’s burning with fever. I’ll need more water.”

  Running Bear knelt beside her and touched Jed’s face.

  “Roll him over so I can pull the fur away,” she instructed, already trying to tug the thick pelt from beneath him. “He’ll be cooler lying on just the blanket.”

  Running Bear pulled Jed onto his side. Rachell grabbed the edge of the heavy fur and pulled it away. As she did, her eyes focused on Jed’s scarred back. She’d seen the old scars before, but not close enough to see the individual crossing lines of
corded skin. The thin scars stretched from his shoulders to his lower back; marks made by the lash of a whip.

  She brushed her fingers across the rippled skin before she eased him back, allowing Running Bear to lower him onto the blanket. She wondered why someone would have inflicted such wounds on Jed.

  “I bring water and Shaman,” Running Bear said as he stood.

  Rachell retrieved the instruments Running Bear had brought her the day before from Jed’s saddlebags. She cut away the bandages around Jed’s waist.

  “Oh, God,” she said, horrified by the proof of infection already draining from his side. The long cut was surrounded by angry red flesh. Her heart pounding, she rushed to find Jed’s shears to cut away the sutures holding in the infection.

  Running Bear returned just as she reopened the wound. She pressed above the cut and yellow ooze spilled from Jed’s body.

  “Oh, no.”

  Running Bear murmured behind her. Rachell was sure he had just sworn in Indian.

  “It has to be cleaned. I need boiled water,” she instructed.

  He gave a sharp nod and again disappeared through the flap.

  Jed moaned, seeming to fidget in his sleep.

  “Jed?” she said, fighting the burn of tears. She smoothed her hand over his cheek, but his eyes didn’t so much as flutter.

  When Running Bear returned, Rachell irrigated the wound with warm water while Running Bear and a few others hovered nearby. When she finished closing the cleaned cut, a brown hand reached out, stopping her attempt to bind his side. Rachell glanced beside her, and was surprised by the tawny wrinkled face that greeted her.

  “Shaman wrap Jed’s wound with healing herbs,” Running Bear said from behind her.

  Rachell nodded, releasing a shuddered breath as she moved aside. The fear she’d kept at bay poured through her as the shaman began chanting over Jed’s unconscious body.

  He’d be okay. He has to be okay.

  She took one of the rags Running Bear had brought in and dipped it into a large bowl of water, then swabbed the cool towel across Jed’s brow. Once his fever’s down, he’ll wake up.

  Long after the shaman and others had left, Rachell continued to bathe Jed’s sweltering body with cool water. Morning dragged into afternoon and still his skin blazed. When she wasn’t rewetting his hair and skin, she fanned him with the damp cloth.

  Sometime in early evening Jed stirred, moaning as Rachell smoothed the wet cloth across his chest. She instantly leaned over. “Jed?”

  His eyes opened slightly and relief vibrated through her.

  “Rachell,” he whispered.

  “I’m here,” she said, brushing a hand across his whiskered jaw.

  Before she saw any recognition in his gaze, his eyes rolled up and his lids came down.

  “Jed?” She rubbed her hands over his chest and shoulders, calling his name, but he didn’t respond.

  Disappointment resounded through her soul as she dipped the towel back into the water and resumed the task of combating his fever. She lifted his scarred knuckles to her lips, kissing them before running the wet cloth across his long arm.

  As the sun descended, Jed’s fever began to gradually decline. Rachell’s arms ached from fanning him and continually lifting his arms and legs as she dampened his flesh. After an entire day of bathing him, her hands had grown accustomed to the feel of his skin. She’d memorized and touched all the reminders of violence in his past, and had been stunned by how much one man could endure.

  Never had she seen so many scars. There wasn’t a limb unscathed by the markings of an old injury.

  When his body finally neared its normal temperature, Rachell was sure he’d wake soon. But as the evening wore on her patience snapped. Giving his cheek a sturdy pat, she shouted, “Wake up! You’re scaring me! Do you hear me, Jed? Wake up!”

  She shouted the commands several times before she sensed someone else inside the teepee. Snow Flower knelt beside her. She placed a hand on Rachell’s shoulder. Her sympathetic gaze broke the little that remained of Rachell’s control. A wave of despair washed over her and warm tears spilled across her cheeks.

  “I want him to wake up.”

  Snow Flower pulled her into a light embrace. She spoke softly in her Indian language, and though Rachell didn’t understand a single word, the gentle sound of Snow Flower’s voice gave her comfort.

  Recovering from her tearful state, she eased back and found Running Bear watching them from just inside the door flap.

  Snow Flower spoke again and stood, encouraging Rachell to do the same.

  “Go with Snow Flower,” said Running Bear. “She take you to warm pool. You will feel better. I watch Jed.”

  Rachell pulled in a shaky breath and nodded as she allowed Snow Flower to pull her to her feet.

  Chapter Nine

  Conscious of a dull ache throughout his entire body, Jed tried to shake off the heavy shroud of sleep. He was aware of a burning pain in his right side and a soft warmth pressed against his left. His mind recognized the woman beside him even before he opened his eyes.

  Rachell.

  He squinted against the intrusion of light. A lantern hung from a tall aspen pole. Rachell was snuggled against him, the lantern casting a warm glow over her sleeping face, lighting up streaks of gold in her auburn hair, giving life to the flames cascading across her shoulder and back.

  Pain bit into his right side as he shifted toward her.

  The Apache, he thought, as his hand felt the bandages wrapped around his middle. He’d been cut. The image of Rachell racing into the river to help him flashed in his mind. Her large green eyes, filled with concern—for him. She’d put her own fear aside and risked her life to help him from the swift current.

  What the hell had she been thinking? If he had collapsed, she’d have been no more use than a tiny woodpecker. His overgrown hide would have swept her downstream right along with him.

  Gingerly, he stretched his aching body, and realized he was only wearing a bandage. As he scanned Rachell’s petite frame, his body stirred beneath the blanket. He reached over and skimmed his hand lightly across the small curve of her hip.

  She moaned softly in her sleep and wriggled closer to him.

  Jed folded an arm under his head as he traced her petal-soft lips with his finger; lips that had set him on fire. He smiled as she sighed, nuzzling even closer to his chest.

  No woman had ever kissed him with such passion. He wanted to see her emerald eyes.

  Again, he brushed his finger across the soft pad of her lower lip. The sound of his name rippled from her mouth, stealing the air from his lungs.

  “Rachell?” he whispered, pushing a long strand of hair away from her face.

  Green eyes opened wide. Her pink lips drew into a bright smile as she sprang up. She lifted onto her knees, leaning over him. Her red hair swirled around her face in wild disarray.

  She was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

  “You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

  “Like hell worked over,” he answered truthfully. He groaned, forcing himself to sit up despite his body’s painful protest. He felt as though he’d run a gauntlet, with every inch of his body being pummeled by stone mallets. “What’d you do, tie me behind Sage and drag me to camp?”

  “Perhaps you should stay lying down,” she offered with a worried frown, completely missing his humor. Her small palms set fire to his skin as she pressed lightly against his shoulders. He realized she wore a buckskin dress.

  “Where are we?” he asked, glancing around at the circular wall of tightly bound reeds, realizing only now that he hadn’t given any thought to their location, only to who he was with.

  “Running Bear’s camp.”

  “Ah, now I remember.” The last thing he recalled was his large Ute brother running toward him.

  Rachell’s gaze moved rapidly over him as though to make sure all was accounted for. She scooted close and tugged at the binding around his waist. With her face nearly t
ouching his chest, she peered down at the padding covering his wound. Jed inhaled a deep breath, bathing his senses with the sweet scent of Rachell’s hair.

  She released a sigh, apparently relieved to find that his side hadn’t busted open.

  “How does it look?” he asked when she leaned back.

  “It’s not bleeding, but I think you should lie down. I’ll get you some water. Are you hungry?”

  Before he could answer, she was on her feet. “Running Bear says you are brothers,” she continued, again kneeling in front of him. “He says you taught him to speak English. Was he also raised by the Cherokee?”

  “No,” Jed replied with a short laugh, checking his injury for himself. He was surprised by the neat, uniform row of tight stitches. By far the best stitching he’d ever received. “Running Bear was raised by his tribe,” Jed explained, looking back up at Rachell. “His Ute tribe. He’s what we’d call my brother-in-law.”

  Rachell’s eyes widened. “Oh,” she said in a hushed voice. “Your wife.”

  Jed nodded. “Malika.”

  It had been so long since he’d spoken her name aloud, it sounded strange on his tongue.

  “Judge Widell mentioned you had hunted down killers. Was she killed by them?”

  “She was. What time is it?” he asked, anxious to change the subject, annoyed that it had come up at all. He had no intention of discussing his first forced bride with his second. If Rachell knew his young wife had run headlong into gunfire, rather than endure another day with him, Rachell would be liable to run off again. He was in no shape to chase her down.

  Jed avoided her gaze as he accepted the ladle of water she held out to him.

  “The sun isn’t up yet,” she said as he took a drink. “You were plagued by fever all of yesterday.”

  “I’ve been asleep for an entire day?”

  “Nearly two. Yesterday your wound became infected and had to be reopened. The shaman put some herbs in your bindings to fight off infection.”

  Jed noticed the redness of Rachell’s eyes. She offered him more water. He shook his head. She replaced the ladle then picked up another bowl beside their blankets and rose to her feet. When she sat the bowl near the door flap of the teepee he saw the cloth lying in the water.