Mr. Stone. Five years certainly qualifies you as a friend. Would you like to see him?"
"Yes'm." He stepped into the foyer and glanced uneasily around.
Kate pushed the door closed and led him to the sickroom. She stood aside as he approached the bed. Body rigid, his hat held respectfully at his waist, he gazed for a long while at her patient. Kate knew by his expression that it pained him to see his boss in such pitiful condition. With a ragged sigh of acceptance, he slapped his hat against his thigh. "He don't look too good."
Kate had to agree. "I've done all I can." She clasped her hands. "If I can just get him through this first twenty-four hours…" She could think of nothing more to say.
Marcus Stone nodded. "I'll help you. Caring for an unconscious man ain't no job for a lady. The boss'd scalp me if he knowed I let you."
Kate hadn't thought of the proprieties. She felt heat rising up her neck. "I'm a widow, Mr. Stone. You needn't be concerned about my maidenly sensibilities."
In a sense, Kate knew she was lying. Her five years of marriage to Joseph had not left her greatly familiar with the masculine form. But that wasn't important. Thus far, she had scarcely been aware of Zachariah McGovern's gender, nor would she be as long as his life was hanging by a thread. He was just a very sick man she wanted desperately to save.
"I still think I oughta take care of his personal needs. Widow or no, there's some things a man don't want a lady seein'."
Reluctantly, Kate conceded the point. "Whatever you think he'd want is fine with me." She thought of the spare bedroom upstairs and balled her hands into fists at the prospect of having a healthy stranger stay the night. Aside from her concerns about how Miranda might handle it, she had her own anxieties. A woman couldn't be too cautious when she lived alone miles from town. "I've plenty of room to put you up."
"A pallet in the barn will suit me fine," he came back. "I got me a tendency to snore, and if I stayed in the house, I wouldn't sleep a wink for fear of keepin' y'all awake."
Kate tried to hide her relief.
Stone seemed to search for words. "If he needs bathin' during the night or starts to run a fever and needs wettin'
down, you can holler at me from the porch."
Kate hadn't thought far enough ahead to consider how she meant to bathe McGovern. "That sounds fine. I'll appreciate your helping me care for him, I'm sure."
He rested solemn blue eyes on hers. "I'll do better than that. Until he's well and off your hands, I'll take over your chores here. You can't be nursin' him and runnin' a farm. Tomorrow, I'll mosey back over to our place and tell the hired hands to carry on without me until the boss is out of the woods."
Kate didn't argue. On a normal day, there weren't enough hours to get everything done. She thought of Henrietta, still lost in the fields, but now didn't seem the time to worry Stone with that. "It's very generous of you."
"No more than I ought," he replied. With a polite inclination of his head, he moved closer to the bed to look into the bucket sitting there.
Kate wasn't sure how he might react when he realized she had packed the snakebites with mud. "Have you eaten?" she asked, hoping to distract him.
He seized the bucket by its handle and glanced up. "No, but I don't feel hungry, nohow."
Neither did she. Running a hand over her hair, she felt stray tendrils trailing from the braid encircling her head.
Her gaze moved to the bucket, and she braced for a dressing down.
"Smart move, using mud packs," he said.
"I didn't know if it was or not," she admitted shakily.
"If anything'll save him, mud will. I've seen more than one bit dog wailer in mud and pull through. If it works for dogs, it should work on him." He clamped his hat back on. "I'll git you some more makings to use during the night. As soon as the mud starts to dry, you should pack on fresh."
Kate was so relieved that he wasn't angry over her use of the mud that she nearly smiled.
"Yes'm." He stepped into the foyer and glanced uneasily around.
Kate pushed the door closed and led him to the sickroom. She stood aside as he approached the bed. Body rigid, his hat held respectfully at his waist, he gazed for a long while at her patient. Kate knew by his expression that it pained him to see his boss in such pitiful condition. With a ragged sigh of acceptance, he slapped his hat against his thigh. "He don't look too good."
Kate had to agree. "I've done all I can." She clasped her hands. "If I can just get him through this first twenty-four hours…" She could think of nothing more to say.
Marcus Stone nodded. "I'll help you. Caring for an unconscious man ain't no job for a lady. The boss'd scalp me if he knowed I let you."
Kate hadn't thought of the proprieties. She felt heat rising up her neck. "I'm a widow, Mr. Stone. You needn't be concerned about my maidenly sensibilities."
In a sense, Kate knew she was lying. Her five years of marriage to Joseph had not left her greatly familiar with the masculine form. But that wasn't important. Thus far, she had scarcely been aware of Zachariah McGovern's gender, nor would she be as long as his life was hanging by a thread. He was just a very sick man she wanted desperately to save.
"I still think I oughta take care of his personal needs. Widow or no, there's some things a man don't want a lady seein'."
Reluctantly, Kate conceded the point. "Whatever you think he'd want is fine with me." She thought of the spare bedroom upstairs and balled her hands into fists at the prospect of having a healthy stranger stay the night. Aside from her concerns about how Miranda might handle it, she had her own anxieties. A woman couldn't be too cautious when she lived alone miles from town. "I've plenty of room to put you up."
"A pallet in the barn will suit me fine," he came back. "I got me a tendency to snore, and if I stayed in the house, I wouldn't sleep a wink for fear of keepin' y'all awake."
Kate tried to hide her relief.
Stone seemed to search for words. "If he needs bathin' during the night or starts to run a fever and needs wettin'
down, you can holler at me from the porch."
Kate hadn't thought far enough ahead to consider how she meant to bathe McGovern. "That sounds fine. I'll appreciate your helping me care for him, I'm sure."
He rested solemn blue eyes on hers. "I'll do better than that. Until he's well and off your hands, I'll take over your chores here. You can't be nursin' him and runnin' a farm. Tomorrow, I'll mosey back over to our place and tell the hired hands to carry on without me until the boss is out of the woods."
Kate didn't argue. On a normal day, there weren't enough hours to get everything done. She thought of Henrietta, still lost in the fields, but now didn't seem the time to worry Stone with that. "It's very generous of you."
"No more than I ought," he replied. With a polite inclination of his head, he moved closer to the bed to look into the bucket sitting there.
Kate wasn't sure how he might react when he realized she had packed the snakebites with mud. "Have you eaten?" she asked, hoping to distract him.
He seized the bucket by its handle and glanced up. "No, but I don't feel hungry, nohow."
Neither did she. Running a hand over her hair, she felt stray tendrils trailing from the braid encircling her head.
Her gaze moved to the bucket, and she braced for a dressing down.
"Smart move, using mud packs," he said.
"I didn't know if it was or not," she admitted shakily.
"If anything'll save him, mud will. I've seen more than one bit dog wailer in mud and pull through. If it works for dogs, it should work on him." He clamped his hat back on. "I'll git you some more makings to use during the night. As soon as the mud starts to dry, you should pack on fresh."
Kate was so relieved that he wasn't angry over her use of the mud that she nearly smiled.
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