The Ranger's Bride

Something—perhaps the groan of pleasure he had not succeeded in altogether smothering—must have alerted her she was not alone, for Addy’s eyes flew open and she caught sight of him watching her.

She uttered a shriek and jumped to her feet.

“Whoa, easy, Miss Addy,” he murmured, and put out a hand in an attempt to soothe her. He tried to relieve her embarrassment by making a joke. “I don’t look that frightenin’, do I?”

He watched her face change as she reoriented herself.

“No! That is…well, you do look a bit haggard…but I expect that’s natural after what you’ve been through! I’m sorry—I couldn’t think where I was!”

“That’s natural, too,” he assured her. “A day like yesterday would buffalo anyone.” He knew she couldn’t feel very rested after sleeping in a chair, but no lady wanted to be told how tired she looked.

Addy blinked as if surprised by his understanding.

“Did you…that is, are you having much pain?” she asked.

He remembered to shrug with just his uninjured shoulder. “Well, I wouldn’t say I feel like running any races,” he admitted. “But it’ll get better.”

“I should examine your wounds.”

He lay still while she pulled back the makeshift bandage, trying not to look at her while she bent close to him so she wouldn’t be self-conscious. He couldn’t help but breathe in her womanly scent, though. She must wash with rosewater.

“How’s it look?” he asked when she straightened again.

“Well, I’m no doctor, but it looks all right to me…as well as can be expected the very next day, anyhow,” she said, then laid a soft, cool hand on his forehead. “Good. You don’t seem to have any fever, either.” Then she added brightly, “How about some breakfast? Bacon, eggs, biscuits?”

The thought of anything fried hitting his still-queasy stomach made that organ threaten to revolt. “No thanks, Miss Addy. Just coffee, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

“Oh, come now, you need good, nourishing food to recover your strength,” she coaxed. “It’s really no trouble, and I am accounted a good cook, if I do say so myself.”

He could tell nothing less than the truth would discourage her. “Miss Addy, I don’t reckon you’ve ever drunk an excess of whiskey before—”

“No, of course not,” she interrupted, startled. “I don’t even know what it tastes like.”

He pretended he didn’t hear her. “The thing is, the headache a fellow gets afterward kind of deadens the appetite. Really, coffee’s the best thing you could give me, ma’am.”

“All right then, coffee it is,” she agreed, looking sympathetic. “Just give me a few minutes—”

Just then a knock sounded at the front door.

Chapter Six

The knock came again, harder this time.

“Yoo-hoo, Addy! Are you there, Addy?”

“Pretend you’re not here!” Rede whispered.

Addy wished she could do just that. The very last thing she needed this morning was one of Beatrice Morgan’s long, chatty visits.

“I can’t!” she whispered back. “If I don’t answer, she’ll think I’m still sleeping and come around and knock at the back. She might even look in a window!” she said, pointing frantically at the two low windows, one to the left of the foot of his bed, the other facing the foot of his bed. The lantana bushes on the side of the house would probably keep Beatrice from getting close to the first window, but she could easily look in the back one. And if she did, the old woman would be able to see Rede Smith sitting up in Addy’s bed, even through the sheer muslin curtains.

“All right, but get rid of her!” Rede growled, gesturing toward the sound.

She glared at him before turning to dash down the hallway. She called, “I’m coming!” in hopes of keeping Beatrice from starting to go around to the back.

How dare Rede Smith try to order her around in her own house? She didn’t intend to encourage Beatrice to stay long, but being polite was the very least she could do after sneaking out on the older woman the way she had yesterday.

She was barely in time. Beatrice was just stepping off the porch when Addy threw open the front door.

“Why, there you are! I was just fixin’ to go ’round to the back,” the old woman said. “Sleep late, did you?” she said, eyeing Addy’s creased wrapper and braided hair. “I shouldn’t wonder, after all that commotion yesterday!”

“Yes, I’m afraid I did,” Addy admitted. “Sorry to take so long getting to the door.”

After bustling back up onto the porch, Beatrice shook a plump finger at Addy. “You were a naughty girl yesterday, not to let me know you were leaving. The next thing I knew, Asa Wilson was shaking me awake! I was so worried about you!”

Addy had to smother a smile at the picture the woman painted. It must have been hours later by the time Asa had returned—no wonder the old woman was ashamed to have been caught dozing.

“I am sorry, Miss Beatrice. You looked so tired, and were sleeping so soundly I didn’t have the heart to wake you. Didn’t you see my note?”

“Harrumph,” the old woman snorted. “As if a note could make me rest easy about you. And you look awful, Addy Kelly. Perhaps you should rest in bed today. Why don’t you let me stay here and look after you?”

“Oh, thanks, but I couldn’t possibly go back to bed,” Addy said quickly. “I’m fine, Miss Beatrice, really. I’m expecting customers today. But why don’t you have a cup of coffee with me? I could bring it out on the porch, and we’ll enjoy the sunshine—”

“I’ll take the cup of coffee, and thank you, Addy, but I’ve been ‘enjoying the sunshine’ all the way here, and it’s already hot enough to wither a fence post out there,” she said, pointing at the sun-baked road. “So I’ll drink it in your kitchen.” Without waiting for an invitation, she let herself in.

Addy worried the whole time Beatrice sat in her kitchen that Rede would make some noise that would betray his presence. She was achingly conscious of him lying in the bed just on the other side of the thin wall between the back bedroom and the kitchen, waiting while the old woman chattered about every inconsequential thing that came to her head.

An hour passed before Beatrice at last rose to go. Addy was just letting her out the front door, when she heard hoofbeats.

She looked up and saw Asa Wilson reining in his bay gelding. Tarnation! Now it would be even longer before Rede got his promised coffee.

Remembering that she was still wearing just the violet-sprigged wrapper, she quickly snatched up a black crocheted shawl from the peg by the door and threw it around her.

“Sheriff, maybe you can talk some sense into her head,” Beatrice Morgan said, pausing by his horse as Asa dismounted. “I told her she needs to rest in bed today and she won’t listen to me. But perhaps you can exert some—ahem!—influence with her, Asa,” she said in a coyly insinuating tone.

Addy felt herself coloring at the implication. Clearly, Beatrice Morgan had discerned Asa’s adoration for Addy and assumed the feeling was mutual. She probably figured Addy and Asa were just waiting for Addy’s year of mourning to be up before they declared themselves.

“Asa, I’m fine,” she said firmly. “Just tired, naturally, after yesterday. I—I couldn’t sleep very well.”

“Well, of course she couldn’t, Asa,” Beatrice Morgan interjected, before Asa could speak. “My heavens, it isn’t every day of the week a gently bred lady is nearly murdered and has to drive a stagecoach with a corpse inside it to town!”

Asa gave Addy a rueful smile before taking his hat off to Beatrice. “I’ll surely do that, ma’am.” Then he reached into his saddlebag and brought out a couple of wrapped parcels, and Addy remembered the fabric, patterns, laces and other sewing notions she had purchased in Austin and brought with her on the stage. She had entirely forgotten about retrieving them yesterday.

“I found these on the top of the stagecoach,” Asa said, holding out the parcels, “and assumed they were yours. There were some bolts of cloth, too, but I’ll have to bring them out another time when I have the buggy.”

“Thanks, Asa. It was good of you. And don’t bother about bringing the rest. I can always hitch up Jessie and come for them.”

“Oh, it’s no bother, Miss Addy,” he assured her. “But right now, if you’ll allow me, I need to talk to you some more about the outlaws’ attack.”