Anna's Heart (Wilderness Brides Book 2) (9 page)

“Mr. Wilder?” a woman’s voice called.

Ethan’s head turned. His foot shifted and twisted at the ankle when the slippery rock moved under his weight. Water splashed his face as he went down, the creek’s current carrying him several yards downstream. His arm snagged in some overhanging branches, the sharp, long thorns tearing his shirt and scraping his skin. Ethan cursed, while Anna Porter frantically called his name. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance.

“Mr. Wilder, are you all right?” Anna called again. She stood as close to the water’s edge as possible without getting snagged by the thick brambles, reaching her hand out to him.

“Stay back, woman, or you’ll hurt yourself.” Ethan glared at her while he yanked his shirt free of the barbs. One of the needle-sharp thorns sliced the skin of his upper arm. He hissed. More sharp pain seared his injured hand as the water penetrated through the bandage.

Carefully, he scrambled to his feet among the slick rocks. He held back a curse when pain shot up his leg when he put full weight on his right foot. Anna leaned forward, reaching for him.

“Are you all right?” Wide eyes stared up at him, moving from his face to his right arm. “You’re bleeding.”

Ethan glanced at his arm and torn shirt. Traces of red discolored the tan cotton. The puncture made by the sharp thorn throbbed, as did the injury to his hand, but what stung worse was that he’d had the mishap in the first place, and in front of Anna Porter, no less.

He eased the weight off his right leg, using the rifle to balance. He’d never been this accident-prone in his life. Had he been with his brothers, they’d have been mocking him mercilessly. There was only genuine concern in Anna’s eyes.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Wilder?” she stammered.

Thunder rumbled again, this time much closer. Anna shrank back, staring up at the sky.

He glared at her. “I’ve been asking myself the same question. You’re going to be the death of me, woman,” Ethan grumbled as the first drops of rain began to fall.

A
nna stared up at Ethan
. Water soaked his shirt and britches, and the glare in his eyes was reminiscent of a couple of days ago when he’d stood before her in a similar fashion. At least this time, there was no mud on his face, and she wasn’t the one responsible for him getting wet.

Or maybe it was her fault again? He’d slipped right after she’d called out his name in surprise. Although relief had swept through her at seeing someone familiar, the last person she’d expected to see in the woods while she’d tried to navigate her way back to the cabins had been Ethan Wilder.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Wilder? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

Ethan’s muscles along his jaw tightened and he clamped his lips shut. Clearly, he had something he wanted to say but kept it to himself. His chest heaved, then he spoke.

“Caroline was worried about you since you were gone for several hours without telling anyone where you went, so I came looking to make sure you weren’t lost.” His words sounded like a predatory growl.

Anna swallowed. Truth be told, she had been lost. Walking off into the woods on her own had been a foolish thing to do, but she wasn’t about to concede that fact to this man.

She’d made her way through the forest, hoping to see something recognizable when she’d come upon the creek. She’d been sure that if she followed it, she’d get back to the valley. The problem was, she’d needed to find a way around the dense brambles. She’d tried to ford the creek, but the slippery rocks had made her reconsider that option. Ethan’s fall had clearly proven she’d made the right choice.

“And you believe me incapable of finding my way back?” she challenged.

He smirked. “You’re about three miles from the cabins. Don’t tell me you weren’t lost.”

Anna straightened. “At least I managed to remain on my feet. I may have been lost, but I believe this creek would have led me back to the valley.”

His silent glare was her answer that she’d been correct. He moved around her, hissing under his breath when he stepped on his right foot. The drizzle falling from the sky grew steadily stronger. Anna swiped at the moisture on her face.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wilder,” she said, following him as he hobbled away from the creek. “That remark was uncalled for. I appreciate that you’ve come looking for me.”

He stopped, tossing a quick glance at her over his shoulder. “We’d best hurry back or you’re going to be as soaked as I am.”

He lurched forward, limping in the opposite direction from what she’d presumed was the way to get home. Anna caught up to him, glancing at the tear in his shirt near his shoulder. The fabric was stained red and blood still oozed from a wound no doubt made by one of those bushes with the sharp thorns that lined the creek.

“I don’t think you’re in any condition to travel fast,” she said. “I can handle a little rain.”

He continued forward, his knuckles white as he gripped his rifle in his right hand, staring straight ahead. Navigating up the rocky incline, he led her back the way she’d come earlier. Clearly, he seemed to know exactly where he was going. With each step he took, his limp became more pronounced. His damp shirt clung to his shoulders, making the rigid muscles of his back and shoulders visible. Ethan was clearly in a lot of pain, but too stubborn to admit it.

Once the ground leveled out, he stopped and pulled his water skin from around his neck and fumbled to uncork the opening. He took a long drink, then held it out to her. She started to shake her head to decline, then thought better of it.

Anna stepped closer, taking the pouch from him. Instead of drinking, she corked it to save him from trying to do it himself with only one usable hand.

Stubborn man.

She studied his face as he stared down at her. It was difficult to tell if all the moisture on his forehead was from the rain, or if he was sweating. Concealed pain glistened in his eyes.

Thunder rumbled through the mountains, and the rain came down in thicker drops.

“Can we find some shelter?” Anna asked, lifting her shawl over her head. She’d endure the walk back to the cabin in the rain if she had to, but pretending to want shelter might be a good way to get Ethan to slow down. His pale face was worrisome, but he would never admit to needing her help.

“A little further, the rocks can offer some shelter. There are some boulders that hang over a small outcropping.”

Anna smiled eagerly, letting him lead the way again. By the time they reached the place he’d mentioned, her shawl was soaked. After ducking under the natural roof, a shiver passed through her and she rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

“Perhaps the rain won’t last long,” she suggested.

Ethan looked at her, still standing in the rain. He glanced at her, then at the ground at her feet. There was plenty of room for two people to comfortably take shelter, and it was dry.

“I’ll get a fire started. You look cold.” He set his rifle on the ground, then moved to collect wood that hadn’t gotten wet. Anna gathered leaves and pine needles for tinder, making a small pile at her feet. Wordlessly, Ethan sat on the ground and pulled a piece of flint from one of the pouches around his neck. Barely able to hold it with his bandaged hand, he struck the flint with his hunting knife, creating a spark.

Anna added wood as a flame erupted on the leaves. She settled on the ground near the fire, hugging her arms around her waist. Ethan stared into the flames, his face as hard as ever. His jaw tightened when he adjusted his leg. No doubt he regretted that he’d come looking for her.

Would she ever do anything right in this man’s eyes? Not that it mattered. She’d be gone from Harley’s Hole soon, and then Ethan Wilder would become a distant memory. Her walk had given her plenty of time to think about how she was going to get to Fort Hall. If Nathaniel could get her at least that far, she’d do whatever was necessary to continue on with a group of settlers heading west, even if that meant marrying someone in need of a wife. If Cora’s husband wouldn’t take her, perhaps Harley or even the twins could be persuaded to go.

Ethan added more wood to the crackling fire. Anna’s eyes fell to his arm and the wound that continued to bleed slightly.

“I have some salve in my satchel that I was supposed to give to Trevor for your hand,” she said tentatively. “Aimee Osborne left it behind. I could put some on that cut. It looks painful.”

Her eyes met Ethan’s when he looked at her. His expression was unreadable, although the hard planes of his face had softened compared to the way he’d glared at her earlier by the creek. Surely, his male pride was wounded for having fallen into the water in front of her. Her remark about it hadn’t been helpful to lighten his mood, but darn it, the man had deserved it.

Ethan glanced at his arm, lifting and flexing it. No doubt the deep stab from a thorn had torn into his muscle and hurt more than he was letting on.

“I might as well take a look while we wait for the rain to stop,” Anna coaxed.

Waiting for you to get over your stubbornness might take forever.

She offered a smile when the lines along his forehead deepened. Finally, he nodded, but he did so while frowning.

“How about the hand? That bandage looks like it got a good soaking.” Anna pointed at the injured hand in his lap.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled.

She reached for his hand, lifting it, but paused when he resisted. His eyes flashed a warning, which quickly dissolved into something closer to what she’d seen the other day when he’d apologized.

“You don’t need to fret over me, Miss Porter,” he said. “If you want to look at the arm, I’m gonna have to take off the shirt. I hope that don’t bother you.”

Anna swallowed. She dropped his hand and quickly shook her head. She cleared her throat.

“Why would it bother me?” Her pulse raced, the same reaction she’d had to seeing Ethan without a shirt on the other day.

He looked at her, his eyes searching, then he actually grinned. Anna stared. She couldn’t tear her eyes away even if she’d wanted to. His features transformed instantly from the hard, unfeeling brute he’d tried to portray to a ruggedly handsome man with kind eyes and so much hidden emotion.

He broke the spell by raising both arms and pulling his shirt off over his head. Anna blinked, still holding onto the glimpse of the man she’d just seen. A man Ethan kept well hidden behind his dark façade.

Her eyes widened at what he didn’t hide. Unable to look away, her gaze pored over his torso until Ethan had completely removed the shirt. The orange glow from the fire played off the well-defined muscles of his arms and along his shoulders. The heat in her cheeks matched the flames that flickered and danced in front of her.

“Miss Porter?”

Ethan’s brows rose with an expectant look. He’d already lowered his hands, holding his shirt in his lap. Anna shook her head, silently chiding herself for acting like a silly adolescent girl sneaking a peek at the boys when they went swimming in the creek back home in Ohio, as if she didn’t know what a man in the nude looked like.

Yes, but you’ve never been this close to a man without his clothes on before.

At least not a conscious man. She’d seen Nathaniel last summer, after he’d been shot, but she’d hardly had the time or the inclination to look at Cora’s husband while he hovered near death.

Thank goodness Ethan’s wound was on his arm, rather than his thigh. Anna’s face scalded some more with the images conjured up by that thought.

“Let me find the salve,” she said, her voice cracking. She turned her back to him, reaching for her satchel.

Her hand trembled as her fingers fumbled inside her sewing bag for the tin of salve. She pulled out several swatches of fabric to see if any of them might be of some use to her, and a few folded handkerchiefs she’d meant to embroider. One of them might be big enough to wrap around Ethan’s arm as a bandage to cover the wound.

Anna opened the tin. A strong medicinal odor wafted from the ointment, and she turned up her nose. Hesitating, she dabbed her finger in it before lifting her eyes to Ethan’s face. He sat next to her, his upper body slightly turned away. He shot a quick glance over his shoulder.

“That stuff smells nasty,” he said. “I sure hope it really is something for wounds. I must be out of my mind to let you put that stuff on me.”

Anna raised her chin to look at him. “It’s what Cora told me.”

Taking one of the pieces of cloth, she dabbed at the blood that had begun to dry around the gash in Ethan’s upper arm. He sat stiffly, his muscles hard and taut beneath her ministration. She hesitated, then touched her finger to his arm, applying the salve around the wound. His skin was warm, despite the chill in the air and the fact that he’d recently tumbled into the cold water.

Her focus drifted from the wound to the rest of his upper body. Several more cuts and scrapes, presumably from his altercation with the thorny bush by the creek, crisscrossed his back and shoulders. Wordlessly, he raised his arm away from his torso while she wrapped a handkerchief around his bicep, covering the wound.

“You have cuts all over,” she said quietly. Her finger reached out to touch one of them on his upper back. Ethan flinched slightly. Anna jerked her hand away. Her fingers trembled and her mouth had gone dry.

“Does it sting?” she asked.

“No,” he murmured, which sounded closer to a growl.

Anna adjusted her position behind him to get closer. She owed him her gratitude for coming to look for her. If he had stayed at home, he wouldn’t have added these additional injuries to his growing list.

She dabbed more ointment on the larger cuts. Ethan’s rock-hard muscles seemed to melt beneath her touch, encouraging her to continue. The tips of her fingers slid along his skin, applying the healing salve to even the tiniest of scrapes.

The tingling feeling grew stronger the longer she made contact with him, rushing through her fingers and up her arms. Her breathing slowed while her heart began to pound faster. Anna jerked her hand back when a loud crack of thunder made her flinch.

“I think that’s all of them,” she whispered.

Ethan didn’t move, except for his chest expanding when he drew in a breath. He fumbled with his damp shirt to pull it back over his head. He shifted his position next to her to where his back was no longer turned.

“Perhaps you should allow your shirt to dry by the fire for a while,” she suggested, avoiding eye contact. She cringed at her inappropriate words. She dared a quick glance at his face. A faint smile formed on his lips. To hide her embarrassment for making such a bold suggestion, Anna responded with a smile of her own.

“I’ll be fine, but thanks for doctoring me up.”

“It’s the least I could do. I’m sorry that, because of me, you’re in more pain.” Anna glanced at his hand.

“Make me some more of that broth you gave me yesterday, and we’ll call it even.”

She nodded. Their eyes met. The transformation in his features was astounding when he softened his stare and had that boyish smile on his face. Cora had told her that Ethan had once been a lot like Travis, and for the first time, she could almost believe it. His hesitant smile held a hint of his younger brother’s mischievous attitude.

Ethan shifted again, setting his injured hand in the dirt for support. He instantly flinched and cursed under his breath. Anna’s hand reached out to steady his arm.

“I keep forgetting about that damn hand,” he growled. The softness in his features vanished again.

“Mr. Wilder, please let me see to your hand,” Anna pleaded. “Your bandage is wet. That can’t be good for the wound.”

His frown was back, but he seemed to agree, holding out his hand for her to remove the thick bandage Aimee Osborne had applied.

“I believe I have enough cloth to wrap your hand again, and it should hold at least until we get back to the cabin. Your brother or Caroline can apply a better bandage.”

The wound looked clean. Hopefully there would be no lasting damage from such a cut. Anna carefully applied some of the ointment around the stitches, the tips of her fingers gliding over his calloused palm. The warmth and weight of his large hand in her lap sent her heart beating faster again.