Taming a Dark Horse

She looked up at him and gently smiled. “I’m not totally certain about that either. I’d say probably. At least part of it. But who cares whether you have hair on your forearms? You can always wear long sleeves. They look more masculine to me, anyway.”

He drew in a deep breath and pushed it out. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

She shot him an annoyed look, then laughed softly. “Look, Linc, I’m going to be honest with you. A few scars or a lack of hair is nothing to what you could have had. It’s a miracle you’re alive. So you’d better be thankful.”

He glowered at her. “You think I need your preaching to tell me that?”

“You haven’t heard preaching from me—yet,” she warned.

“Hmmph,” he snorted. “For someone so little you’re sure full of sass.”

“That’s to make up for my size,” she reasoned pleasantly.

As far as Linc was concerned, he didn’t see a thing wrong with her size. Everything was put together perfectly. Too perfectly for his peace of mind.

“Can I wiggle my fingers?” he asked as he forced himself to focus on anything but her.

She raised up from ministering to his arm. “Sure. Wiggle all you want.”

Linc attempted to flex his bare fingers, which still looked like sticks of watermelon to him. “All the time I was in the hospital, I kept thinking how good it would feel to bend my fingers. But it—well,” he grimaced as he tried to close them into his fist. “It doesn’t feel all that good. They’re stiff.”

“That will soon change,” she promised. “I’m going to bandage each finger lightly so you can move them around and maybe use them just a little. But I mean very little.”

He looked at her with surprise. “You mean I don’t have to go around with my hands plastered against boards?”

She gave him a happy smile. “Nope. Now, isn’t that good news? And aren’t you sorry about all this whining and griping?”

The expression that stole over his face was mostly sheepish, but the upward curve of the corner of his lips told her he was definitely pleased.

“Maybe I have been a little cranky,” he admitted.

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that normally your nature?”

He frowned. “Why do you ask that?”

Nevada made a palms up gesture. “Because I don’t know you, Linc Ketchum. I don’t know if you’re usually grouchy or cheerful or sweet or mean or what.”

“You’re not here to analyze my personality,” he reasoned. “And you don’t need to know any of those things just to doctor my hands.”

Nevada was going to be doing more than doctoring his hands, she wanted to point out, but she didn’t say that to him. She could see that it was disturbing to this man to have her here in the house. So far she’d tried to keep everything as light and playful as she could. And she hoped she could keep their time together on that same track. It wouldn’t do for both of them to get serious.

“Well, I guess I’ll learn for myself,” she said as she picked up a roll of gauze and started one end of it around his thumb. “Do you think you can tell me what you like to eat? Or is that a secret, too?”

“You don’t need to worry yourself about that either,” he told her. “Marina will be bringing up supper from the big house each evening.”

This was news to Nevada. Victoria really hadn’t had time yesterday to discuss some of the details about her stay here or her duties to Linc. She’d expected to be preparing some sort of meals for him and herself.

“That’s nice. But I hope she’ll allow me to do breakfast and lunch.”

He studied her through drooped lids and for the first time in Nevada’s life she felt her whole body react to a man in a purely sexual way. Heat filled her cheeks and she felt as though her whole body was soon going to be glowing like a firefly.

“What does a nurse know about cooking?”

Nevada drew in a bracing breath and told herself not to look at him. She couldn’t look at him if she expected to get her senses back under control.

“Probably about as much as a cowboy does,” she muttered.

He caught her off guard by releasing a low chuckle. “You might be surprised at what I know how to do in the kitchen.”

Nevada couldn’t keep her gaze from latching on to him and the minute it did her stomach did a nervous jump. Was he talking about cooking, she wondered, or something altogether different?

“Really. Then maybe you could teach me a few things,” she ventured.

The amusement on his face disappeared like a cloud slipping past the sun and his gaze traveled from her face to her bosom and back again. “I’m sure you’ve already learned everything there is to know.”

Chapter Four

Something about Linc’s words struck Nevada hard and deep. And for the next few minutes she didn’t say anything as she finished bandaging his fingers then went to work on his left arm to repeat the same process.

She really didn’t know why his remark had bothered her so. Maybe it was the note of disgust she’d picked up in his voice or maybe it was the lewd way he’d looked at her. Either way, it didn’t matter, she told herself. Linc Ketchum wouldn’t be the first person to think she was a promiscuous young woman. Some of her so-called friends had also accused her of sleeping with a long list of boyfriends. But in reality nothing could be further from the truth. Nevada was a virgin. And so far she hadn’t met one man who would make her want to change that fact.

Even so, she wasn’t going to explain any of this to Linc Ketchum. Her sexual habits were none of his business. Pure and simple.

Later that evening, after she’d finished dressing Linc’s burns, Nevada went outside to explore the rugged landscape of the yard. She was at the back of the house enjoying the sight of the far-distant San Juans when she heard the sound of an approaching vehicle.

Carefully picking her way through the rocks and clumps of blooming sage, she skirted the end of the building to see Marina climbing out of an old red pickup truck.

“Marina! Hello!” she called to the housekeeper.

The large Mexican lady with a heavy braid pinned to the back of her head, turned in the direction of Nevada’s voice and smiled broadly when she spotted her.

Nevada waved and hurried over to the woman. Without uttering a word of welcome, she hugged Marina tightly. Nevada didn’t get to see her old friend that often. Yet somehow from the very first time Victoria had introduced Nevada to the housekeeper, Marina had felt like the mother that Nevada had always wanted.