Lorraine Heath (14 page)

“Aaron,” he croaked. “My fault. Shouldn’t have—”

“Doesn’t matter right now,” Maddie said as she quickly eased his shirt aside.

Charles felt his stomach lurch as the torn flesh in Jesse’s side just below his ribs came into view. Breathing deeply, he bowed his head. “Dear Lord.”

“You look worse than I feel,” Jesse said.

“Damn you, don’t you dare pick now to develop a sense of humor. I don’t know the first thing about bullet wounds. It’ll take me two to three hours to get Doc Murdoch here— if I can find him.”

“I know how to tend a bullet wound,” Maddie said quietly as she reached beneath her skirt, ripped off a portion of her petticoat, and pressed it to Jesse’s side. Her gaze shifted between the two men. “When my father got shot, I tended him.”

“Your father died,” Charles harshly reminded her.

Considering the circumstances, she didn’t take offense at his tone but merely reassured him calmly. “He didn’t die from the wound I treated. This wound looks much worse than it is. The bullet went through, and it’s far enough to the side that I don’t think any serious damage was done.”

Hope ignited within Charles’s eyes. “He’s too heavy for me to carry. Will you stay here with him while I get the wagon?”

She nodded. Charles leapt to his feet and ran toward the barn.

Gingerly, Maddie once again inspected the wound. The wounds she’d tended before had been worse. She was certain they had been, but they hadn’t frightened her like this one did, and she couldn’t explain her fear. She felt Jesse’s unsettling gaze latch onto her. “Will you please stop staring at me?”

“If I die, I want the last thing I see to be your eyes.”

She snapped her head around. “That’s not funny.”

“Wasn’t meant to be.”

Gazing down on him, she blinked back her tears. His voice sounded as though it came from far away, as though it was flowing away from him as easily as his blood, and he looked so much older with pain etched within the creases of his face. “You’re not going to die. I just need to stop the bleeding and keep it from getting infected.”

“Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?”

“No.”

“Ah, Whiskey, I’m not the one who’ll hurt you.”

Jesse eased down onto the bed. Damn Maddie for being right. Climbing the stairs with his arm draped over Charles’s shoulder had been a mistake, just as she’d promised it would be, but he’d wanted his hurting body in a soft bed. The Princess room was as far as he’d gotten, but he figured it was for the best. He’d need the brass headboard before everything was said and done.

He felt like the rag doll Taylor draped over her arm as Charles worked Jesse out of his shirt. One of the doll’s embroidered eyes had lost most of its threads. He needed to talk to Maddie about fixing it. Maybe she could redo the doll’s entire face. A little girl’s doll should have a pretty face.

He heard his bloody shirt slap the floor. Charles had stripped off Jesse’s remaining clothes and draped a sheet over his lower body, when Maddie walked into the room carrying a tray. Jesse reached up and wrapped his large hands around the frail brass spirals. Charles hurried out of the room. Jesse glanced over at Maddie. She was pouring whiskey over her hands. The glint of a steel edged knife resting on the bedside table caught his eye. “Are you going to cut on me?” he asked.

She kept her gaze averted as she replied, “You’ll heal quicker and easier if I clean the wound and remove the flesh that’s bound to die anyway.” She cast him a furtive glance, the apology woven in her words. “It won’t be pleasant. I’ll do it as quickly as I can.”

“Do whatever you have to. I won’t scream or fight you.”

“Got some laudanum Doc Murdoch gave me for an emergency,” Charles said as he rushed back into the room. “I’d say this was an emergency. I’ll give you a couple of spoonfuls, and with any luck you’ll go to sleep before Maddie gets started.”

Charles lifted Jesse’s head and spooned the medicine into his mouth. Jesse grimaced and returned his head to the pillow. He gave Maddie a weak smile before clenching his teeth and nodding slightly. He tightened his hold on the railings.

Night was easing in around them. “Charles, will you hold the lamp so I can see better?”

Charles moved into position. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Tentatively, Maddie touched the outer edges of the wound and felt Jesse tense. Glancing at his tortured face, she wished he wouldn’t be so stoic. Somehow it made her task seem that much harder. “Please don’t watch me while I do this.”

Closing his eyes, Jesse took an image of her delicate features with him, preparing himself for the hell she was about to deliver. His body convulsed as she cleaned the wound, wasting good whiskey in the process. He wished he could keep quiet. He was certain listening to his grunts and groans wasn’t making her job any easier. Then he felt her fingers leave his side and heard the knife scrape across the table. He’d lied. He thought he released a strangled scream just before he plunged into the black abyss of hell and lost consciousness.

Maddie didn’t remember sewing up the wound or wrapping the bandages around it, and she didn’t realize she was crying until Charles wrapped his unsteady arms around her. She turned her face into his chest, wishing it was Jesse’s chest, Jesse’s arms comforting her. Now she understood why the wound frightened her so much. It made her realize Jesse was vulnerable. His strength, his dedication to protecting them could be taken away as easily as a child plucked a flower from a meadow.

“Is he going to die?” Charles asked.

She tilted up her face. His brow was furrowed, the corners of his mouth no longer eager to form a smile. His eyes delved into hers, seeking the truth. “No, we were fortunate. The bullet went through without hitting anything but flesh and muscle. He’s lost a lot of blood.” She forced a smile of reassurance. “He’s not going to be able to chop any wood for a while, but considering how much wood he’s chopped lately, we probably won’t need any for a couple of years, anyway.”

He cupped her cheek. “Don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t been here.”

“You would have managed.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know how you stayed so calm. How’d you remember all that from treating one wound?”

Nervously, her gaze flickered around his face. “I have a good memory.”

A sob caused them to snap their heads around. With a tear-streaked face, his lower lip quivering, his hands balled into fists, Aaron stood in the doorway.

Charles charged across the room, grabbed Aaron’s arm, spun him around, and applied his hand soundly against Aaron’s backside. Then he spun him back around. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

Aaron moved his head slightly from side to side, his voice trapped somewhere deep within his terrified soul.

Charles shook him. “Get to your room, and don’t you dare come out until I’ve said.”

“Yes, sir,” he forced out, his small voice wavering as he took one last look at the still figure lying on the bed before dashing out of the room.

Charles plowed trembling fingers through his hair and dropped his head back. “Christ!” He pounded a fist against the wall. “Christ Almighty!” He leaned his forehead against the wall.

Maddie crossed the room and placed the heel of her palm against his back. “Charles?”

“I’ve never hit him before, but, dear Lord, when I think of what might have happened—”

“But it didn’t happen.”

He gazed down on her. “What do we need to do now?”

“I want to watch Jesse tonight, to be near in case he needs anything.”

“What can I do?”

“Fix the children some supper, tuck them into bed, then go to bed yourself.”

“I’ll get you something to eat as well.”

“I don’t think I could eat right now.”

He nodded his understanding. He thought it’d be at least a week before he’d be able to keep any food down. “I’ll bring you some warm water for the washbasin in our room.”

“That would be nice.”

They glanced over at Jesse’s inert body before walking into the hallway. Aaron’s muffled sobs eased out beneath the closed door to his room.

“I can use the water that’s already in the washbasin,” Maddie said. “Why don’t you see after Aaron?”

Charles ran his hand through his hair. “I guess I’d better.”

Maddie walked to the door of their bedroom and glanced over her shoulder. Her husband was seriously studying the floor. “Charles?”

He lifted his gaze. The weight of the spanking he’d given Aaron was clearly visible in his eyes.

“Don’t think it to death,” she said quietly.

He forced a small smile. “I won’t.” Then he headed for the stairs.

Aaron heard the door to his room open. He squeezed his eyes shut and balled his fists around the covers. He heard the door close and felt the light from a lamp touch his eyelids. He heard a tiny yelp and opened his eyes. His father was crouched beside his bed, holding a lamp in one hand and Ranger in the other.

Charles set the lamp on a table beside the bed. Meeting his son’s distressed gaze, knowing he was the one responsible for putting the fear there, pained him more than anything in his life ever had. “Want to tell me what happened?”

Tears flooded Aaron’s eyes. “I shot Uncle Jesse.”

Charles dumped the dog onto the bed and took Aaron in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Pa.” Aaron sobbed against his shoulder.

Sitting on the bed, Charles drew Aaron onto his lap. “I know. I’m sorry I hit you.” He held Aaron’s head against his shoulder. “I want you to tell me what happened.”

Aaron sniffed. “I heard Hannah scream. I thought it was that man I saw out behind the barn. Guess she did, too, but it was Uncle Jesse. I was running to help her, and I tripped. The gun fired. I didn’t mean for it to. Is he gonna die?”

Charles squeezed him. “No.”

“Do you hate me, Pa?”

Charles held him tighter. “Oh, God, no. I love you, son. Always will, no matter what you do. What happened today scared the hell out of me. Guns aren’t something to play with. That’s why we keep the rifles locked in the closet downstairs.”

“I won’t never touch a gun again.”

Easing Aaron back, Charles looked at him. “Guns have a purpose, Aaron, but playing isn’t one of their purposes. Taking Uncle Jesse’s gun this afternoon was wrong. That’s why you’re to stay in your room. Not because you shot Uncle Jesse, but because you took his gun. Do you understand the difference?”

Sniffing, Aaron ran his finger beneath his nose. “Think so. Want me to do Uncle Jesse’s chores until he gets better?”

Charles squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll do them together until he gets well.”

Stepping into a room not filled with the presence of blood had made Maddie acutely aware of the odor emanating from her clothes and hands. Quickly, she’d stripped out of her clothes and washed Jesse’s blood from her skin, but she continued to scrub at her hands. She’d forgotten how difficult it was to remove the feel of blood.

Her skin was pink and tingling by the time she finally dried off. She slipped into her nightgown and wrapper before walking across the hallway into the Princess room.

Jesse’s fingers were still resting between the bent spirals of the headboard. Gingerly, she moved his arms to his side. Thudding and bumping in the hallway caused her to look toward the door.

“How’s he doing?” Charles asked as he pulled a rocking chair into the room and deposited it beside the bed.

“He hasn’t come to yet. Probably won’t for a while. His body needs the rest. How are the children?”

“Fed and in bed. Quickest meal I ever fixed.”

“You should try and get some sleep.”

“I will later. Have a seat.”

Maddie sat in the rocking chair. His eyes steadfastly watching his brother, Charles stood by the bed. “You know, it’s strange, but the day he showed up on my doorstep, it felt as though only twenty minutes had passed since we’d last seen each other … instead of twenty years. Still, I’d do almost anything to make sure my children would never be separated from each other.”

Maddie took his hand and gave a gentle squeeze. “Well, you’re not going to be separated from Jesse again for a good long time. Why don’t you go on to bed? I’ll wake you if anything changes.”

He patted her hand. “Come and get me if you need me.”

She watched him walk out, then turned her attention back to Jesse. She dipped the cloth into the cool water in the basin and wrung it out before sitting carefully on the bed. Gently, she wiped Jesse’s face. The cloth caught on the beard stubble covering his chin. She’d shave his face when he felt stronger. The thought of tending to his manly needs caused warmth to sluice through her. He was stronger than Charles. Even as he lay there, his muscles were firm.

“He died?”

Maddie spun around. Aaron stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes glistening with tears. “Pa washed Ma like that when she died.”

She rose from the bed and knelt before him. “No, no. He’s not dead.” With her fingers, she lightly combed the hair back from his furrowed brow. “He has a small fever. and I’m trying to cool him down. That’s normal with a wound like his. His body’s fighting to heal. Would you like to help me?”

The need to help his uncle was clearly written in Aaron’s eyes. “I ain’t supposed to be out of my room, but I was scared. I don’t want him to die, Ma.”

Maddie’s heart overflowed with joy as she pulled Aaron into her embrace. Of all the times for her to feel such gladness. His arms went around her neck, holding on to her as though she was his salvation. “I didn’t shoot him on purpose.”

“We all know that.” She leaned back. “I’m really tired. I think your father would understand if you helped me, and it would make your uncle feel better.”

Relief evident in his features, Aaron nodded. He sat on one side of Jesse, Maddie on the other. She handed him a damp cloth, and he lightly touched his uncle’s face.

“Your uncle’s fairly tough. He won’t crack if you touch him a little harder.”

Nodding, Aaron moved the cloth down Jesse’s neck. Maddie rinsed her own cloth out before wiping his damp chest. “Did your father talk with you?”

Aaron peered over at her. “He ain’t so mad no more.”

She took the cloth from his small hand, dipped it into the water, wrung it out, and handed it back to him. “I think he was always more scared than he was mad. He loves you very much and it frightened him to think you might have been the one to get hurt.”

Aaron twisted his mouth and ran the cloth along Jesse’s arm. “I’m glad Pa married you.”

The words were spoken so quietly that she almost didn’t hear them. She smiled softly as they continued to work together in silence.

Jesse opened his eyes. A lamp burned low on the table beside the bed. Maddie sat in the rocking chair, her head turned at an awkward angle, her eyes closed. Aaron, with his long legs dangling, was nestled against her shoulder, asleep. Despite the pain in his side, the heat of his body, he felt a strange yearning. He was the only person in this family who hadn’t slept within her comforting arms.

Her braided hair was draped over her shoulder and across Aaron’s hand. Above her closed eyes, her finely arched eyebrows were relaxed. She seemed younger, more innocent in sleep. He had a strong urge to protect her.

He almost laughed with that thought. Protect her? He wasn’t capable of protecting himself. What had confounded him lying there, his life’s blood flowing onto the ground, was the absolute certainty in her voice when she’d spoken. She’d dealt with bullet wounds before, was familiar with the dangers. Her fingers had been steady, her determination exact. She had the skills of a physician, but she wasn’t a physician. A physician wouldn’t have been forced to climb onto a table in Bev’s parlor.

Aaron shifted in her lap, and she closed her arms more protectively around him. Slowly, she opened her eyes. There wasn’t enough light for him to see the whiskey clearly, but just knowing it was there was enough for him. His eyes held hers. The only movement within the room occurred when she blinked. And that movement, simple as it was, broke the trance.

Sliding Aaron onto the seat, she eased out of the rocking chair and slipped a pillow beneath his head. She knelt beside the bed and drew her brows together as she studied his features closely. “Are you in pain? Do you want some laudanum?”

“Whiskey,” he croaked.