Guardian Bride (13 page)

Rodney Zimmerman. I don't believe I've made your

acquaintance."

Snake batted Dora's hands away like a kid being chased by

a bee. The tone of Rodney's silver tongue ran up his spine,

intensifying the irritation of the disruption. He leaned as far

away from Dora as he could get and glared toward the door.

"Back off, Zim."

Rodney flashed him a shit-eating grin and lifted Summer's

hand. Pain shot up Snake's leg as he pressed his feet to the

floor, attempting to rise as the man brushed his lips over

Summer's knuckles. Keeping his seat, he slid the pistol out of

the holster. "You want to get yourself shot?"

"Scott!" Dora screeched, inches from his face. Her fingers

patted his cheeks.

He tossed his head. "Knock it off, Dora."

By the time she pulled her hands away, to plant them on

her hips, Rodney had released Summer and moved toward

the table, hand extended.

"How you feeling?"

"Like shit." Snake dropped the gun on the table and shook

the man's hand.

"Scott," Dora wailed, "You mustn't say such things in my

presence."

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He didn't respond, there was no use. Dora Zimmerman

was the epitome of an irritating, screeching female, if there

ever was one. With his hand he gestured to Summer.

Dashing uncertain gazes at both Dora and Rodney, she

walked around the table to stand near his other side. He held

in the regret he couldn't use that arm to wrap around her

waist. With his good hand, he reached across his chest and

found her hand, balled in a fist and hanging near her hip. Her

annoyed gaze was on Dora. A sweet tickle flitted across his

chest.

"Rodney, Dora," he started, remorseful that he couldn't

stand up while making the introductions. Silently he cursed

his injuries. This was his first opportunity to introduce his

wife, and the fact made him want to strut like a rooster on

Sunday. Rodney had to be the biggest womanizer in the

state, and Snake had to admit, he and the other man had

shared some good times. "I'd like you to meet Summer..." he

paused to make sure he had everyone's attention. "Quinter.

My wife."

"You're what?" Dora spat.

"I'd heard as much," Rodney said. "Congratulations, my

friend."

"You'd heard?" Dora screeched. "I hadn't heard! Why

didn't anyone tell me?"

Rodney ignored his sister and continued, "It is extremely

nice to meet you, Mrs. Quinter. Your husband and I have

been friends since I moved here from Dodge about ten years

ago. My family owns the hardware store in Scott City."

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"Hello, Mr. Zimmerman," Summer said, bowing her head

slightly.

"Rodney!" Dora's voice was enough to make the hair on a

boar stand on end.

"And this screaming"—Rodney glared at Dora—"pipsqueak

is my little sister, Dora."

"Hello, Dora," Summer greeted.

Dora crossed her arms over her chest. She didn't

acknowledge Summer at all, instead she glared at Snake.

"You were supposed to marry me."

"Dora!" Rodney reprimanded.

"I never said I'd marry you, Dora," Snake sighed. The girl

had been chasing him since she'd been about thirteen, and it

drove him nuts.

"I know
you
didn't say it.
I
did. Last year at the Fourth of

July dance."

She was little more than a child, and Snake didn't want to

hurt her feelings anymore now than he had last summer.

"Dora," he said calmly. "You're a sweet girl, but you're just

too young for me."

A loud huff flew from her mouth. Snake took a deep breath

to continue, but his attention was drawn to his fingers.

Summer's hand had opened, and her fingers curled through

his. Renewed by his wife's actions, he asked Dora, "How old

are you now? Fifteen?"

Dora nodded.

"I'm twenty-five. Much too old for you."

Dora's arms fell to her sides, and she let out a long sigh.

"Well, you could have at least notified us that you were ill.

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Sheriff Turley only mentioned it in passing last night when he

was in to buy bullets."

Snake wasn't sure if that meant she'd accepted his

justification or not. Luckily Rodney spoke up, expanding on

the subject she'd brought up. "So, you got yourself shot up

pretty good, I see. What happened? Turley didn't offer much."

He turned to Summer. "Would there be some of that peach

pie left from last night? Maybe Rodney and Dora would like a

piece."

"Of course." Her cheeks grew pink. "I'll get it." She lifted

her gaze to the guests. "Dora, would you prefer coffee or

tea?"

"Oh, tea if you have it, thank you."

"Why don't you help her get it?" Rodney asked his sister.

"That's all right, I can manage." Summer moved toward

the counter.

Rodney pointed to a chair, but before Dora moved toward

it, she leaned closer to Snake's face. "You married a squaw?"

His spine stiffened, and his gaze flew to Summer. Her

slender back was to them, and he had no way of knowing if

she'd heard Dora's question or not. Lips tight, he glared at

Dora. If he had two good hands, he'd wring her scrawny

neck.

Rodney, as fast as a whip, grabbed Dora's upper arm.

"Mother and father may not paddle your bottom, but I will."

Dora's eyes grew wide. "What? It was just a question."

"If you don't want to walk all the way home, you'll sit your

butt in that chair and not open your mouth except to eat pie

and drink tea. Is that understood?" Rodney growled.

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Dora quivered and nodded her head.

Snake looked over in time to see Summer turn back to the

cupboard. Dread dripped off his shoulders. She had heard. A

glob swelled in his gut. Only because he had no idea what to

say to her, he didn't ask the Zimmermans to leave.

The visit with Rodney wasn't unpleasant, but whether it

was because he'd already been up for some time, or if it was

because his mind was conjuring up a million ways to

apologize for Dora's words, Snake's strength waned. After

serving their pie and coffee as well as Dora's tea, Summer

excused herself.

He half listened to Rodney prattle about the latest

incidents in town—something about a herd of cattle that

stampeded down Main Street—while the other half of him was

tuned into the sounds coming from his room. Summer

reappeared now and again to refill their cups and offer more

pie, but her gaze never met his, and she didn't settle on the

chair beside him. It seemed like hours before she did finally

sit down. By then he felt about as mighty as a kitten with its

eyelids still welded closed.

Summer's eyes traveled his way, and a startled gaze

overtook her face. She turned to Rodney. "Mr. Zimmerman,

perhaps you'd help me get Snake back into bed?" The tips of

her fingers massaged his shoulder. "I put fresh linens on your

bed while you were visiting. I think a rest is in order."

Snake thanked her with his eyes, but his vision had

diminished, too, because he swore he saw two of her.

"Of course," Rodney agreed. It sounded like he spoke from

ten miles away.

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The ache in his leg grew as Rodney practically dragged him

into the bedroom. "Damn, I don't know why I'm so weak,"

Snake moaned.

"The way Turley talked, you lost enough blood for two

men. He said you're lucky to be alive." Rodney helped him

onto the bed. "But don't worry. In no time you'll be back to

your ornery old self."

"Thanks," he muttered and dropped his head onto the

pillow.

Summer pulled the covers up to his chin, and he wrapped

his hand around hers. He wanted to pull her down for a kiss,

distinctly knew that would make him feel better, but he didn't

even have that much strength. She brushed her other hand

over his forehead and whispered in his ear, "I'll be back in a

minute. I'm just going to walk your friends out."

He nodded, or at least he thought he did before the black

void sucked him in.

Rodney Zimmerman had stepped out of the room, and

Summer took advantage of the opportunity. She touched her

lips to Snake's forehead. Absorbing him with every facility she

had, she willed him to heal quickly. It was somewhat

startling, how deeply he touched her. If able, she'd give her

very life for him.

She pulled her lips away and stood. His eyes were shut,

and the fingers holding hers had gone lax. She ran a hand

through his curls, wishing she'd checked on him earlier. The

doctor had said he shouldn't be up for more than an hour or

two at the most, and it had been much more than that.

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A noise in the other room signified she'd forgotten the

Zimmermans were still here. She slipped her hand away and

walked across the room. Both Dora and Rodney stood near

the table, and she pulled the door closed.

"Thank you"—she included Dora in her gaze—"both for

coming to visit Snake today. It'll be sometime before he's well

again, and I know he'd appreciate it if you have time to come

again."

Rodney guided Dora toward the door. "Of course we'll

come again, if you don't mind."

She opened the door and followed them out. "I won't mind

in the least."

Dora hadn't met her gaze nor spoken since she'd asked

Snake her question. Summer walked beside the girl to their

black, canopied buggy parked in the shade. Shame hung over

the girl like a dark cloud. Summer's heart went out to Dora.

"It's all right," she said, "I'm half Indian."

Dora and Rodney both stopped to stare at her. He spoke

first. "She needs to apologize for that comment."

"Why?" Summer asked.

"I didn't mean it to be rude," Dora said solemnly. "It just

surprised me is all."

Empathy for the girl made her reach out and rest a hand

on Dora's shoulder. "I know, and I hope you do come out to

visit again. I have a little sister, she's not here right now,

she's helping with the wheat harvest, but I know she'd like to

meet you."

"Is she—"

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"No," Summer interrupted. "She's not part Indian. Just I

am."

"How old is your sister?"

"Eleven."

"Why is she with you? Where are your parents?"

"Dora!" Rodney snapped. "Will you ever learn to keep your

mouth shut?"

Summer accepted the apology in his eyes. "It's all right,"

she offered. "Our mother died years ago, and my step-father

died a short time ago. Both my little sister and brother live

with me-us."

Dora smiled, and despite the grown-up clothing, Summer

saw the child still lingering.

"I am sorry. I really didn't mean to be rude. I'd like to

meet your sister. If Rodney will let me ride with him again."

"As long as you behave," he insisted.

"I will." Dora's curls bobbed as she nodded.

Grinning, he flicked the end of Dora's nose with the tip of

his finger. "All right, pipsqueak, I'll let you ride with me

again."

Dora turned back to Summer. "Will your brother and sister

attend school in Scott City? Once it starts back up that is. It's

closed now since harvest will start soon."

The question caught her off guard. Not once since they'd

arrived had she thought about school for the children. Which

wasn't like her at all, each and every time they moved, the

first thing she'd done was enter the children in the nearest

school. A conclusion settled quickly. She'd enrolled them so

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swiftly before, not entirely for the educational benefits, but to

keep September and August away from July.

"I'm not sure," she answered honestly, "what will happen

for sure."

Dora nodded, but Rodney Zimmerman looked at her

curiously, as if he mulled her answer. He then reached out to

shake Summer's hand. "It was wonderful meeting you, and I

guarantee we'll be back in a couple of days."

"It was nice to meet you, too, and I'm sure Snake will look

forward to your visit," Summer replied.

Rodney helped Dora into the buggy, and as he walked

around the front he turned to Summer. "I have to admit, I'm

a little surprised he lets you call him Snake."

Confused, she asked, "Oh? Why?"

He shrugged. "Because he hates that name. Always has.

He insists everyone outside his family call him Scott." His

smile increased. "I answered my own question, didn't I? You

are family. You're his wife."

Summer didn't respond. As if there weren't enough issues

separating her and Snake. She had no idea he didn't like the

name. It was what Jonas always called him. Hearing Dora and