The Cowboy's Reluctant Bride (11 page)

She sighed. “I guess I need to send a message, too. To my parents and my brother. I need to ask them for money.”

Just the thought had her face heating in embarrassment. “I’ll do it for you, if you’re all right with that.”

She nodded, feeling half-spent. Her head still pounded. “Thank you.”

“You tell me what you want to say, and I’ll get it right.”

Lowering her voice, she gave him the message. Before he left, he checked her over once more.

“Stay put.”

“I will.”

Outside, Thunder howled.

“Oh, the pup,” she murmured.

“I’ll take care of her. Be right back.”

Returning to the clinic less than ten minutes later, he helped Ivy down from the table, keeping one arm around her. Though she wasn’t dizzy, her vision was a little blurred so she welcomed his help.

Roe followed them outside. “Nice to meet you, Gideon.”

“You, too.” He started toward the back of the wagon.

Thunder spotted them and barked, going up on her hind legs.

Ivy squinted against the glaring sun. “I’d like to ride up front.”

Gideon’s gaze moved over her face. “Doc?”

“If her head can stand it, I guess it’s all right.”

Gideon moved back to the front of the wagon and gently deposited her onto the seat. Thunder raced to the front of the buckboard.

Gideon caught hold of the pup and set her on the seat beside Ivy. She wasted no time crawling into her mistress’s lap. Ivy stroked the animal’s soft fur.

“Damn— Dang,” Gideon said. “We didn’t bring your bonnet from the farm.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Hang on,” Roe said. “You can borrow one of Olivia’s.”

When he went inside, Ivy said to Gideon, “Olivia was his late wife. I didn’t know he still had her things.”

The doctor soon returned and handed over a faded blue-checked bonnet. Ivy took it, grateful to have some protection from the sun’s blinding rays. The loss that had been in her friend’s eyes since the death of his wife still lingered. She squeezed his hand.

He squeezed hers back.

“Ivy?”

She looked up to see Titus hurrying toward them from town. Gideon stopped, waited. Roe excused himself and went back inside.

When the banker reached the wagon, he frowned at the shingle hanging over the physician’s door. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s just a knot on my head.” Anticipation swept through her. “Do you have an answer for me about the loan?”

He hesitated. “We can talk later. You look as if you’re ready to leave.”

“I need to know, Titus.”

The older man grimaced, and she knew what he was going to say before he said it. Her head started pounding even harder.

The banker looked miserable. “I wasn’t able to convince the loan committee.”

“I’m not getting the loan?”

“No. I’m so sorry, Ivy.”

Even though she’d expected this, his words lashed at her. Her shoulders sagged. Now what was she supposed to do?

“How can they deny me? They know I’ll pay back the money.”

“I pointed that out several times,” Titus said. “I argued more than once, but they just won’t loan to a single woman.”

“I appreciate your help, Titus.” Her head felt like it might explode. On top of what had just happened, this was too much. Her legs felt like water. It was a good thing she was sitting down.

Gideon put a hand on her thigh. “You okay?” he asked gruffly.

“I will be.” Though she didn’t know how.

The distress on Titus’s long features made him even more homely.

“It’s all right, Titus,” she said to her friend.

“If I had the money, I’d loan it to you myself, my dear.”

“I know.” She gave him a faint smile. Her stomach roiled, but she steadied herself. “Thank you for telling me and not waiting.”

He shook his head, still looking distressed as he walked away.

Gideon hopped up beside her and gathered the reins. He glanced over, pausing. “You sure you want to ride up here?”

No, she wasn’t. Besides the ache in her head, the headache powder was making her queasy. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

He came around to scoop her up then settle her in the back.

She gave him a small smile. “Sorry to be so much trouble.”

“You aren’t any trouble.” He seemed to mean it. He eased her down gently onto the thick pile of blankets. “I sent a separate wire to Smith telling him about the attack. He can let your folks know. Shouldn’t be too long before you hear from one of them.”

“I hope not.”

Gideon clucked to the team and lightly slapped the reins against the horses’ rumps. The wagon lurched into motion.

She closed her eyes, uncertainty hammering through her with as much force as the headache. Her family was her last hope. If they couldn’t help, she didn’t know what she would do.

* * *

During the ride back to the farm, Gideon tried to leash his anger. Someone had just walked onto the farm and assaulted her. If it hadn’t been for the pup’s howling, he might have arrived after she’d been hurt worse. He’d nearly broken his neck in his rush to get to the barn and check out the disturbance.

Braking the wagon in front of the house, he scooted across the seat to hop down on the other side. He moved to the side of the wagon and froze, studying her. She lay so still, so pale that his stomach dropped.

“Ivy?”

The bonnet shaded her face, and after a moment she opened her eyes.

“We’re home. How are you doing?”

“All right.”

Pain still tightened her features, and she was wan. She started to push herself up.

“Stop that,” he said, harsher than he intended. “Don’t move.”

“My head is the most sore thing on me.”

“I don’t care.”

When she eased back onto the mound of quilts instead of arguing with him, he knew she hurt more than she let on.

He leaned over the side and smoothly pulled the bottom quilt toward him. He was able to move her without jostling, though that didn’t erase the discomfort from her face. The pup whimpered, standing on her back legs to scratch at the side of the wagon.

Gideon set the dog on the ground. Thunder watched as he slid one arm beneath Ivy’s shoulders and one beneath her legs then picked her up.

The specks of blood spotting her collar had him clenching his jaw tight enough to break a tooth. He reached down and flipped the gate latch with one finger then walked through.

Mixed with her soft magnolia scent were the smells of dirt and blood. And him.

“You can put me down,” she said quietly. “I’m sure I can walk.”

He shook his head. “I already found you on the ground once today. I ain’t lettin’ that happen again.”

To his surprise, she rested her head on his shoulder and slid an arm around his neck, her soft fingers resting gently on his scar. His nerves jumped. No one had ever touched the ragged mark that circled his throat. He didn’t want
her
touching it, but what he wanted didn’t matter right now.

He carried her inside. “Bedroom or sofa?”

“Bedroom, please.”

Elbowing her door open, he set her carefully on her feet then eased away from her slowly, watching her closely. Rage nipped at him again, and he tried to stem it. “Do you feel like eating?”

“No.” She touched the back of her head, wincing slightly.

Pain mixed with the fatigue in her voice, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Gideon hoped her eyes weren’t blacking due to the blow she’d taken.

The sun sank low, painting everything in a fiery radiance. The light coming through the half-drawn shade in her room cast a soft amber glow over her pinched features.

She stood unmoving for so long that he started to worry. “Ivy? Do you need help?”

He hoped not. The last thing he needed was to put her in bed. His body was tight, humming with awareness just from carrying her inside.

“I want to change my clothes.”

Oh, hell. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to force away the image of unbuttoning her green-striped dress and shucking her out of it. “Um.”

“I can do it myself,” she said testily.

“I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’ll call out if I need you.”

He hesitated then stepped outside. “I’m leaving the door open a bit. Just in case.”

“All right.”

As badly as he wanted to watch, and not only to make sure she was okay, he turned away and braced his back against the wall.

Her shoes thumped against the floor when she removed them. From the corner of his eye, he saw her hand go to her bodice.

“Did you see anyone running away from the house?” Her voice was faint. “When you found me in the barn?”

“No.” He wasn’t sure she should be talking.

“Did you find any footprints? Earlier, you said you thought the attacker was a man.”

“I found boot prints, but I was in such a hurry to get to you that I ran over them. How’re you coming there?”

“Fine.”

“The prints weren’t trackable so I can’t identify them as the same ones I found in the woods.” Gideon beat back the anger seething inside him. Who had hurt her?

“Did you find what he used to hit me?”

“No, sorry. I didn’t come across rocks or pieces of wood with blood.
Nothing
with blood.”

“He must’ve taken it with him.”

“It’s possible.” The bastard might also have brought it.

Her skirts made a soft swishing sound, and Gideon imagined her stepping out of her dress. Then her petticoats. Then her chemise. A vision flashed through his mind of her raven hair falling down around her bare shoulders, soft plump breasts, the tight tuck of her waist.

Hell. He was getting himself worked up. She was injured, for cryin’ out loud! He cleared his throat. “I’m going to sleep outside your window tonight.”

“No.”

He straightened. “Listen here, I’ll pack you up and take you to the doc.”

“I mean, you’re not sleeping outside on the ground. You can sleep in the house. There are three spare rooms on the other side of the front room.”

Resting in a real bed sounded good, but he wasn’t sure if it was the best idea. “Outside your window will put me closer.”

“I don’t want to be... Would you stay in the house? Please?” Her voice shook, and her next words were grudging. “It would make me feel better.”

He understood finally that she didn’t want to be alone; she just wasn’t willing to say so.

“Yes, I’ll bed down in the living room.” Besides, being within steps of her, he would be able to see the door as well as the long hall leading to the back.

A barely audible moan sounded, then he heard the creak of the bed ropes.

“Ivy?”

“You can come in if you want.”

He turned, seeing that she was in bed with the sheet and quilt pulled up to her chin. All he could see was her face and elegant neck. Her eyes were huge dark pools clouded with pain. Anger stirred again.

“You all right?” he asked.

“I will be. Did I already thank you?”

“For what?” His voice was taut. “Letting you get hurt?”

“Are you blaming yourself?”

He
was
to blame. There was no one else here.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she insisted.

He didn’t agree, and he bet Smith wouldn’t, either.

“The man walked up right behind me, and I never knew it. This is not your fault.”

Maybe not, but it wasn’t going to happen again. He turned away. “You should try to sleep.”

“Mr. Black?”

“I’ll leave the door open and stay right out here.”

“All right.” Her voice was wispy, as if her energy was waning fast.

After a moment, he moved, but he only got a foot from the door before his legs did some funny wobbly thing. Dragging a hand down his face, he braced a shoulder against the wall, a strange, dark emotion crowding his chest.

It took him a moment to recognize it was fear. For Ivy. His heart had flat-out stopped when he’d seen her lying motionless in the barn, so small and fragile. The pup pacing in front of her like a sentry.

She’d scared the hell out of him. He didn’t know if he’d ever been that close to panicking about anything, including going to prison. He didn’t even try to deny that she was coming to mean more to him than she should. Feelings like this were dangerous, and he had to get rid of them. Put some distance between him and her.

Which was going to be damn hard since the only way he knew to keep her safe was to stick to her like a burr.

* * *

Ivy made breakfast the next morning, then set about wiping out the glass chimneys of the kerosene lamps then trimming the wicks. Gideon helped her wash the windows, and she knew he did it so he could keep a close eye on her, but she found she didn’t mind much. Though the knot on her head hurt and there was an occasional shaft of pain, the headache powders had helped.

It was thanks to Gideon that she hadn’t been hurt worse. For the second time, she was beholden to him, though she could’ve made her way to the doctor on her own if she’d been alone, provided the assailant hadn’t hurt her more seriously. That was thanks to Gideon, too.

She was getting used to him, a man who actually pulled his own weight and then some, but deep down she was afraid it was more than that.

As she emptied a bucket of water out back, she heard the jingle of harness and the approaching
clop-clop
of horses. She walked up the side of the house at the same time Gideon stepped out of the barn. He joined her at the porch.

Shading her eyes beneath the brim of her bonnet, she saw a familiar buggy carrying Mayor Jumper. Conrad rode horseback and reined his bay to a stop beside the carriage.

Dread knotted her stomach. Jumper was here for the stage line’s horses. She’d been expecting it. She just hadn’t known when he would come.

“Mrs. Powell,” the mayor greeted her from the buggy, his walking stick on the seat behind him. It was the one with the carved head.

She was hit all over again with the frustration she’d felt when the stage line had refused to do business with her. Had Jumper voted for or against her getting the bank loan?

Gideon didn’t speak as he fell into step beside her. Again she found herself glad not to be alone.

Jumper eyed her from beneath the bonnet of his vehicle. “I’ve come for the horses.”