Whirlwind Groom

“Easy,” he murmured.

Trying to slow down, she finished the rest. He lowered her head back to the pillow and returned the glass to the bedside table. Her body still burned with fever, but she could feel the brand of his touch on her nape. His gaze on her body.

Her eyes met his and she was struck by the hard glitter of want in his eyes. Jaw tightening, he stepped away, behind the chair.

She fastened her gaze on her hands. Weakness pulled at her. “I thought Catherine was here.”

“She was called away on an emergency.”

It took too much effort to nod so Josie just absorbed the information. The mildness of Davis Lee’s voice relaxed her unease enough that she glanced at him. No emotion showed now on his handsome face, but his body was taut with a subtle tension. She didn’t recall him coming back after he’d fetched the herbs for Catherine.

He gestured to her leg. “Still hurt pretty bad?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember much of what happened after I brought you here?”

“Not really. Catherine, the snakeroot.” Somewhere in her mushy brain, she recalled another woman. Older. “Was Mrs. Wavers here?”

“For a bit.”

Her body ached. She didn’t have the energy of a sun-warmed cat. “I was unconscious.”

He nodded.

“How long?”

“Ten or twelve minutes without coming to. Then you were in and out.”

She was thirsty and the pain in her leg radiated through her whole body. “I don’t remember anything else.”

“You were burning up.” He felt her forehead, his big, rough hand gentle on her skin. “Still are.”

“Yes, I remember the fever….”

And strong hands moving softly over her face, her chest. Her gaze flew to Davis Lee. It had been him. Touching her. Soothing her.

His gaze dipped, skimmed over her body.

She squirmed beneath the sheet. “So…how long have you been here?”

“A while.”

She wondered if this dizziness was due to the snakebite or the blue-eyed man standing over her. “Who’s watching the jail?”

“Your window has a perfect view of it.” His gaze sharpened like a newly whetted blade. “But Jake stayed with the prisoner.”

His pointed answer told her he was on to her spying, but she couldn’t summon the energy to care or to keep it in her head for more than a fleeting moment. She could barely lift the sheet to blot her damp forehead and neck. For the first time she wondered if Davis Lee could be held responsible for McDougal dying in his custody. She wouldn’t want that.

Despite her listlessness and dulled thoughts, she was well aware he had saved her life. He didn’t look all that pleased about it. Neither was she. She didn’t want to owe him, but she couldn’t dance around the fact that she did.

“I…thank you. For saving my life,” she said quietly.

His shoulder lifted. “You’re the one who knew what to do. I guess that’s because your pa’s a doctor.”

“I could’ve died out there.” She saw a flare of emotion burn through the guarded blue depths of his eyes.

Sober acknowledgment passed between them, and Josie felt a solid connection to another person that she hadn’t experienced since the deaths of her parents.

He gave her a crooked grin. “You cured of wanting those shooting lessons?”

“No.” She licked her parched lips and tried for a smile. “I might have to save you sometime.”

He chuckled. “Unless you use something other than a gun, I don’t have a prayer.”