need to keep that foot elevated,” he said
as he gently swung her legs atop the bed and grabbed one of her pillows to
place beneath the injured one. “I’ll be right back.”
He left the lantern in her room and headed into
the kitchen. He stumbled across another lamp. The matches sat just at its base,
and he lit the wick before looking for some clean rags and the water pump. He
found the sink, but there was no pump.
Add that to the list .
He discovered a drawer full of mid-size towels,
grabbed a few, and headed out to the wash area he’d spotted several yards from
the homestead. A water pail dangled from the handle. Once he started pumping, it
didn’t take much for the water to begin flowing. He doused two of the three
towels under the chilly water and set them in the pail. Back home they had a
local vendor who sold ice that could keep the rags cold enough to be useful and
wondered if they had such a thing here. Not that it mattered at this hour.
When he returned to Kate’s room, her eyes were
closed and her breathing heavy and even. She was asleep.
He imagined it had been a long, emotional day
for her as well. He couldn’t conceive of the heartache she must have endured
having her father taken from her in such a brutal way, then to have seen the
man who’d killed him hanging from the rafters of that little, unfinished cabin.
Noah thought of how hard it had been when he’d
lost his mother.
That was different. It had been her choice
to leave and never look back. She’d left many years ago. He didn’t know where
she lived or even if she was still alive. He shook the thought of her from his
mind and focused on wrapping Kate’s ankle.
When the cool rag touched her skin, she
stirred, but did not wake. He tucked the blankets up around her shoulders and
face, so she would not get a chill in the night and smiled when she snuggled more
deeply into them. She was so young to have suffered so much. He glanced down at
her sleeping peacefully, and, for the first time in a long time, he had knots
in his belly. He could see already that Kate alone was worth the fight.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kate laid in her bed, looking up at the
ceiling, fresh morning sunlight spilling into her bedroom like syrup over
hotcakes, filling the space around her with a warm cheerfulness. It was
brighter than her normal wake time and she realized that she’d overslept. She
turned, the pain radiating from her ankle reminding her that she’d fallen
through the railing last night right in front of Mr. Deardon and her face
flooded with warmth.
She’d made a fool of herself, but had to admit
she’d liked being in Noah’s arms as he’d carried her into the house.
Shame on you, Katie Callahan.
Maybe it had all been just a dream. She
attempted to wiggle and twist her foot.
Ouch. Bad idea. Not a dream.
Her ankle was wrapped in soggy towels that had
seeped onto the pillow beneath her leg and she smiled to herself as she thought
of her tall, blond rescuer. With a little effort she was able to sit herself up
and look out her bedroom window, noticing the light frost creating a vignette around
the corners of the glass.
Winter was coming and they still had so much to
do to prepare. She gingerly reached down to her foot and removed the wet
cloths. The skin looked purplish in color around her ankle and swollen enough that
she doubted she’d be able to put much pressure on it, let alone pull a boot over
it. Nevertheless, she cautiously swung her legs over the side of the bed and slid
down off the mattress in an attempt to stand.
A sharp, stabbing pain shot through her foot.
Definitely not.
The methodic pounding of a hammer against nails
broke the blissful silence of the morning.
“Good morning, Miss Kate,” Fannie walked in, a
tray in hand, filled with biscuits, eggs, bacon, and a cup of milk.
Kate’s stomach groaned. She hadn’t been able to
eat much yesterday with all that had transpired, but the smell of the hot bacon
and steaming biscuits
as he gently swung her legs atop the bed and grabbed one of her pillows to
place beneath the injured one. “I’ll be right back.”
He left the lantern in her room and headed into
the kitchen. He stumbled across another lamp. The matches sat just at its base,
and he lit the wick before looking for some clean rags and the water pump. He
found the sink, but there was no pump.
Add that to the list .
He discovered a drawer full of mid-size towels,
grabbed a few, and headed out to the wash area he’d spotted several yards from
the homestead. A water pail dangled from the handle. Once he started pumping, it
didn’t take much for the water to begin flowing. He doused two of the three
towels under the chilly water and set them in the pail. Back home they had a
local vendor who sold ice that could keep the rags cold enough to be useful and
wondered if they had such a thing here. Not that it mattered at this hour.
When he returned to Kate’s room, her eyes were
closed and her breathing heavy and even. She was asleep.
He imagined it had been a long, emotional day
for her as well. He couldn’t conceive of the heartache she must have endured
having her father taken from her in such a brutal way, then to have seen the
man who’d killed him hanging from the rafters of that little, unfinished cabin.
Noah thought of how hard it had been when he’d
lost his mother.
That was different. It had been her choice
to leave and never look back. She’d left many years ago. He didn’t know where
she lived or even if she was still alive. He shook the thought of her from his
mind and focused on wrapping Kate’s ankle.
When the cool rag touched her skin, she
stirred, but did not wake. He tucked the blankets up around her shoulders and
face, so she would not get a chill in the night and smiled when she snuggled more
deeply into them. She was so young to have suffered so much. He glanced down at
her sleeping peacefully, and, for the first time in a long time, he had knots
in his belly. He could see already that Kate alone was worth the fight.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kate laid in her bed, looking up at the
ceiling, fresh morning sunlight spilling into her bedroom like syrup over
hotcakes, filling the space around her with a warm cheerfulness. It was
brighter than her normal wake time and she realized that she’d overslept. She
turned, the pain radiating from her ankle reminding her that she’d fallen
through the railing last night right in front of Mr. Deardon and her face
flooded with warmth.
She’d made a fool of herself, but had to admit
she’d liked being in Noah’s arms as he’d carried her into the house.
Shame on you, Katie Callahan.
Maybe it had all been just a dream. She
attempted to wiggle and twist her foot.
Ouch. Bad idea. Not a dream.
Her ankle was wrapped in soggy towels that had
seeped onto the pillow beneath her leg and she smiled to herself as she thought
of her tall, blond rescuer. With a little effort she was able to sit herself up
and look out her bedroom window, noticing the light frost creating a vignette around
the corners of the glass.
Winter was coming and they still had so much to
do to prepare. She gingerly reached down to her foot and removed the wet
cloths. The skin looked purplish in color around her ankle and swollen enough that
she doubted she’d be able to put much pressure on it, let alone pull a boot over
it. Nevertheless, she cautiously swung her legs over the side of the bed and slid
down off the mattress in an attempt to stand.
A sharp, stabbing pain shot through her foot.
Definitely not.
The methodic pounding of a hammer against nails
broke the blissful silence of the morning.
“Good morning, Miss Kate,” Fannie walked in, a
tray in hand, filled with biscuits, eggs, bacon, and a cup of milk.
Kate’s stomach groaned. She hadn’t been able to
eat much yesterday with all that had transpired, but the smell of the hot bacon
and steaming biscuits
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