Colorado 01 The Gamble (44 page)

I nodded and with some effort flipped my
boots off with a toe to each heel as he pulled the jeans down my
legs. When he did, I sucked in breath when surprising, stinging
pain struck my entire left side.

Max’s hands stopped pulling down the jeans
and they went to my hips. He tilted them slightly, looked my leg up
and down and whistled through his teeth.

“Scraped, honey, hip to ankle,” he muttered,
his fingers probing gently at my flesh.

“I’m okay,” I assured him.

“We need to get this cleaned up.”

“In a minute.”

His head tipped back and he looked at me.
“Nina –”

“Please, Max,” I whispered, my whisper heavy
and clogged, my tone saying I was holding on but my hold was loose
and slipping.

His eyes held mine for a long moment before
he went back to my jeans and gently freed them from my ankles.

I stepped out of them and he tossed my jeans
where he’d tossed my soggy sweater. He straightened, walking to the
dresser as I tugged on the sweater and he pulled out a pair of his
pajama bottoms. These were flannel, checked dark brown and red on a
cream background.

“Looser, for your leg,” he explained and I
nodded and pulled off my drenched socks and tossed them on the
pile.

Max gave me the pajamas, I pulled them up
and drew the drawstring tight. They were overlong and bunched at my
ankles, covering my feet.

Still, Max went back to my suitcase then he
was facing me again, he put a hand in my belly, pushed me back to
the bed where I fell to my behind and he got to a knee in front of
me.

He lifted a foot and put on first one thick,
wool sock then he dropped that foot and went after the other.

Then his eyes came to me.

“Am I done?” I whispered, staring at Max on
a knee in front of me, both of his hands curled around my foot and
he had a look on his face as he gazed at me that I’d never forget
in my whole life.

He let my foot go, leaned forward, lifted up
and, lips at my forehead, he murmured, “You’re a lot of things,
Duchess, dressed is just one of them.”

Then he kissed me sweet, grabbed my hand and
pulled me off the bed.

I tipped my head back to look in his
beautiful, clear gray eyes and, suddenly, I wasn’t trembling
anymore.

Then I ran back to Mindy.

* * * * *

We got Mindy cleaned, dried and we wrapped
her in my robe, putting a pair of Max’s thick socks on her feet as
I only brought the one pair.

Mom shuffled off with Mindy, Max, Brody and
my wet clothes and Brody climbed into Max’s bed with Mindy, holding
her close as the doctor came up the stairs.

At this point, Max took my hand and led me
to the bathroom, closing the door. Before I knew what he was about,
the drawstring at my bottoms was pulled and the pajamas dropped to
my ankles.

“Max!” I hissed on a whisper.

“Shower,” he whispered back.

“Max,” I repeated my hiss.

His hands came to my waist and his face
got in mine. “Two choices, Duchess, you get undressed and get in
that shower, warm yourself up and clean those scrapes so I can put
salve on ‘em or we both get undressed, get in the shower and
I
clean you up. You got one
second, what’s it gonna be?”

“I’ll take a shower,” I said immediately
because I knew by the look on his face that his threat was not
idle.

“Right,” he replied and then he was
gone.

I was putting my shampoo and conditioner
back in the shower when the door opened, Max’s torso slipped
through, he tossed a pile of clothing on the counter by the sink
then the door closed again.

I took a hasty shower but even hasty, the
warmth of the water seeped into my skin reminding me I was alive, I
was healthy and so was Mindy. It also reminded me of other things,
other things I didn’t want to be reminded of and that I could hold
at bay if I was doing something, like saving someone’s life or
washing her hair.

I felt the tears threaten as I carefully
cleaned my leg and I choked them back, my choking audible,
reverberating around the marble-tiled shower. I had to keep it
together. I couldn’t let Mindy hear me. I could let it go later.
Now, I had to keep it together.

I got out, dried off, wrapped my hair in the
towel and had new, clean underwear on when Max was back in the
room, closing the door behind him.

I covered my lacy bra-covered chest with my
arms and hissed yet again, “Max!”

He completely ignored me, got close then
squatted down. I tried to take a step away but he caught me behind
my knee and kept me close, his head tipping back.

“Stay still, Nina,” he ordered.

“I’m okay, it’s not that bad.”

“Babe, the skin’s broken in places.”

“It’ll be fine.”

His fingers squeezed the back of my knee.
“Honey, this’ll take two seconds.”

“Max –”

“Stay still, for me.”

I closed my eyes and my body settled.
Without thinking, my system knew it’d do anything, anything, for
Holden Maxwell.

I opened them again when I felt Max’s moist
fingers gliding with care along the scrapes on my leg from hip to
ankle. He had to go back to the tube of ointment several times and
it took longer than two seconds but I didn’t call him on this
mainly because I was absorbed in watching his bent head, his
fingers on my skin, both of these successfully shoving out the
panicked, desperate thoughts and feelings that had me in their
grip.

When he was done, he straightened and his
eyes came to me. “All right, Duchess, take care when gettin’
dressed.”

Then he moved to the sink to wash the salve
from his fingers and I grabbed the soft, flannel pajama bottoms,
not Max’s this time, clean ones, mine. These were not checked in
bold, masculine colors but were mint green with big pink, blue,
yellow and peach polka dots and had a wide, blue, satiny ribbon as
a drawstring. They were also loose fitting though not as loose as
Max’s and I pulled them cautiously up my injured leg.

There was also the ribbed, long-sleeved,
scoop-necked, blue top that went with them. I pulled the towel from
my hair and Max took it from my hands and wiped his own before he
shoved it on the railing as I pulled the top on.

When he turned back, I grabbed my comb,
yanked it through my hair and whispered, “What’d the doctor
say?”

“She’s okay. All systems go. He doesn’t
figure she was in the water that long,” Max whispered back, I
nodded and kept yanking the comb through my hair when Max said,
“Barb and Darren are out there, Cotton called ‘em. They got here
about five minutes ago.” When I looked blank, he went on, “Her Mom
and Dad.”

“Oh.”

I was still yanking the comb through my hair
when Max reached out, his fingers wrapping around my wrist, he
pulled my hand between us and pried the comb from me.

“I’m combing my hair,” I informed him
unnecessarily and I watched his eyes slide from forehead to
shoulders before they came back to me.

“You got it, Duchess.”

“Oh,” I repeated.

He tossed the comb in the sink and his hand
at my wrist brought me closer. His other hand came to my hip and
that brought me closer too.

“Baby,” he said softly as he tipped his head
so his face was all I could see and the emotion welled up in me,
threatening to split open my skin.

I shook my head, short, quick, frantic
shakes.

“No, Max, no, not now, please,” I whispered
my entreaty.

He dropped my wrist but his hand curled
around my neck and he gave me what I needed. “All right, honey,
we’ll talk later.”

I nodded, grateful, then fell forward and
pressed my forehead to his chest.

“I need a second before I go out there,” I
said quietly to his chest.

“You can have as many as you need.”

I took in a shaky but deep breath before I
muttered, “Stop being nice.”

He didn’t say anything, didn’t move, just
stood, one hand to my hip, one hand at my neck, my hands went to
his waist and I held on.

After awhile, I said, “All right.”

He kissed the top of my head and repeated my
words, “All right.”

Then he grabbed my hand and walked me to the
door, opened it and led me out.

A redheaded woman, her long, strawberry
blonde hair streaked liberally and attractively with white, was
sitting on the bed, her back to me, facing Mindy as well as hiding
Mindy from me. An older, mountain man stood by the side of the bed
next to her, Becca next to him. None of them turned to me and the
woman was whispering to Mindy.

Max silently walked me through the room and
I started to pull my gaze away from the bed, knowing Mindy was
okay, she was safe, she was with her family but Brody’s eyes came
to me.

My step faltered at what I saw burning there
and Max’s hand tightened in mine, his arm twisting, he brought me
up close as he tucked our hands against the side of his chest. He
kept me moving but my head turned as we walked, my eyes held by
Brody’s, tears pricking the backs of mine.

Brody nodded to me when Max and I hit the
stairs. I nodded back and sucked in another unsteady breath when I
watched one lone tear fall from his tough-guy, mountain-man
eye.

He turned his head away and Max winded us
down the stairs.

* * * * *

Mom and Steve had gone into town to go
grocery shopping which was needed even after my huge shop a week
ago considering Max had been hosting half the town for coffee,
breakfast and dinner for a week. Cotton had gone with them to show
them the way, not that it would be hard to find but it was a nice
thing to do.

The doctor had also left and Mindy, Brody
and their family were upstairs, murmuring to each other.

Max had taken a shower then gone outside to
return the ATVs to the barn and I was cleaning to take my mind off
everything. I’d dusted all Max’s furniture in the living room and
was sweeping his wood floors, my hand still around the dust rag
should I find something to polish while sweeping when Max walked
into the room.

I barely glanced at him and didn’t stop
sweeping when I did.

I heard his boots on the floor and had to
stop when his arm hooked around my waist from behind.

“Max, I’m –” I started to protest,
straightening.

“Stop cleaning, Duchess. When I’m home, got
a woman, Caroline, comes up from town on Mondays, cleans the
house,” he said quietly into my ear and I twisted my neck to look
at him.

“No you don’t,” I declared with authority
and his brows went up.

“Baby, I do.”

“No you don’t, I was here last Monday and no
woman named Caroline came and cleaned the house.”

“You were delirious with fever last Monday
and when you weren’t you were out. She came, cleaned around you,
and left,” Max reminded me.

I’d forgotten that, not that I would
remember Caroline but I forgot I was sick.

I was such an idiot.

“Oh,” I said softly.

“You clean, she won’t have anything to do,
she’s too proud to take the money anyway and she can’t afford to
miss a week. She’s got two kids, an asshole husband who drinks too
much and not many clients. When I’m not in town, she cleans between
renters too.”

“Oh,” I repeated softly.

He turned me to face him, took the broom
from my hand and the dust rag from my other.

“You need somethin’ to do, darlin’, bake
that cake mix you bought in Denver. Tonight, we can use a fuckin’
cake.”

“That’s a good idea,” I whispered.

I could use cake, any cake, always could but
I could especially use a yellow cake with that store bought, thick,
fudgy, chocolaty frosting. It was the lazy way of baking but they
didn’t have many cake mixes and not near the variety of store
bought frostings in England. I missed them.

He smiled, it was small not Max’s usual
beautiful grin but it was something.

Then he lifted his free hand and cupped my
jaw before dipping his face close to mine.

“Anyway, duchesses don’t clean,” he
whispered.

“I’m not a duchess,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, you are.”

“No, Max, I’m not.”

“
You’re mine,” he told me, I held my breath
as I absorbed his words and they slid through me, soothing across
edges that had come up jagged through the last hour, as he
concluded, “and
my
Duchess
doesn’t fuckin’ clean.”

His thumb slid along my cheek then his hand
dropped, he turned away and went to the hall closet.

Before I could allow myself any reaction,
which could consist of bursting into tears; loudly declaring he was
the love of my life; or running upstairs, pulling Mindy in my arms
and promising one day she’ll find happiness, I hurried to the
kitchen and baked a cake.

* * * * *

It was after Mom and I had made everyone
sandwiches and heated Mindy some canned soup but served it with
fresh baked bread Mom found in town and after the drier expelled
clean, fresh clothes.

Mindy was dressed in her dry clothes, Brody
had the pile of his folded and in his arm, Mom, Steve and Cotton
were in the kitchen putting away the rest of what looked to be a
year’s worth of groceries and Max and I were standing on the porch
with Mindy and Brody.

Barb and Darren, who had been introduced to
me, were in their car, idling. Becca was already backing carefully
out. Jeff was long gone.

I’d put on my woolly socks and Mindy was
wearing Max’s, Barb had taken her wet boots to her car.

“You’re staying with your Mom?” I asked
Mindy and she nodded. “That’s good, sweetheart,” I finished
quietly, she nodded again and looked away from me.

This hurt but I also understood it or at
least I told myself I did.

I looked to Brody when he spoke. “You’ll
come down tomorrow?”