Shaking her head, she began to unbutton the bloody shirt, slowly exposing his hard muscled chest.
She wanted to take the shirt completely off but wasn’t sure if it would jostle his wound so she decided to leave it on for now. Carefully, she washed his chest and stomach avoiding his wound. He was all-male and the sight of him made her mouth dry. Heat radiated off him, and she was worried. The house was cold, and he was so hot. What if she did something wrong and he died? She shook her head, she couldn’t think that way. She was doing the best she knew how.
She went to the stove, added more wood, and put on some coffee to boil. She didn’t know what time it was. It was still very dark outside but she decided this might be her only chance to get a few things done, she went into her room, got dressed then walked out of her room re-braiding her hair. She stuck her head into Shane’s room to see how he was faring. His groaning had quieted for the moment, and she sighed in relief. Some food would probably be good for him when he woke up. Gathering all the ingredients she needed she put together a simple stew, placed it in a pot and put it on the stove. Finally, she poured herself a cup of coffee then went back into Shane’s room. She sat beside him continually bathing his head and chest with cool water.
He was such a handsome man, a kind man, a man of integrity, and she’d never known another like him. He’d been good to her, and she planned to fuss over him like no one had ever fussed before, despite his assertion that he didn’t want that. Of course, Edith’s fussing was probably some form of torture.
When his face relaxed, he looked so young and carefree, and she bet he had been that way as a child. Her back began to ache from leaning over him, so she stood, stretching her arms over her head. She walked to the front door, checked that it was locked and then made herself walk past the windows with only a glance. Progress.
****
It felt like a red-hot branding iron was in his shoulder and he could barely move his arm. Shane opened his eyes and looked around, relieved to be in his bedroom but bewildered as to why. Then it came back to him; the saloon, the gamblers, and Old Will. He groaned, not so much due to the pain as to the amount of time he’d be laid up. At least he wasn’t in a room above the mercantile.
Cecily walked in looking pretty as a picture in her new blue dress. She had a mug of coffee in one hand and what looked to be a bowl of water in the other. She placed the items down on the table next to his bed and took a seat. He smiled as he waited for her to look at him. She jumped when she realized he was awake and he almost laughed. “Have I been out long?”
“Not really just long enough for a good night’s sleep. You have a nasty fever, though.” She gave him a worried smile.
“I feel a mite hot.” He still had his shirt on and wanted to laugh. “You do know the best way to get a fever down is to bathe the patient with cool water.”
“Yes, in fact I do know that, and I’ve been doing that very thing for hours.”
“But my shirt is still on.”
“Of course it is, but it’s unbuttoned. They brought you to me with your shirt on, and I didn’t want to take a chance of opening your wound by pulling it off. Plus I wasn’t sure if it was proper.” She turned her head away but not before he saw the bloom of redness in her cheeks.
“Well, I’m awake now so why don’t we get the shirt off? Here, help me sit up.” He waited until she was beside him before he moved. Her hands felt good on his back. Taking his uninjured arm out of the sleeve was easy. As she walked to the other side of the bed to help with the other sleeve there was a knock on the door.
Heaving a sigh, she gave him a smile and left to go answer.
Attempts to get the sleeve off himself became too painful. Besides, it’d be more
She wanted to take the shirt completely off but wasn’t sure if it would jostle his wound so she decided to leave it on for now. Carefully, she washed his chest and stomach avoiding his wound. He was all-male and the sight of him made her mouth dry. Heat radiated off him, and she was worried. The house was cold, and he was so hot. What if she did something wrong and he died? She shook her head, she couldn’t think that way. She was doing the best she knew how.
She went to the stove, added more wood, and put on some coffee to boil. She didn’t know what time it was. It was still very dark outside but she decided this might be her only chance to get a few things done, she went into her room, got dressed then walked out of her room re-braiding her hair. She stuck her head into Shane’s room to see how he was faring. His groaning had quieted for the moment, and she sighed in relief. Some food would probably be good for him when he woke up. Gathering all the ingredients she needed she put together a simple stew, placed it in a pot and put it on the stove. Finally, she poured herself a cup of coffee then went back into Shane’s room. She sat beside him continually bathing his head and chest with cool water.
He was such a handsome man, a kind man, a man of integrity, and she’d never known another like him. He’d been good to her, and she planned to fuss over him like no one had ever fussed before, despite his assertion that he didn’t want that. Of course, Edith’s fussing was probably some form of torture.
When his face relaxed, he looked so young and carefree, and she bet he had been that way as a child. Her back began to ache from leaning over him, so she stood, stretching her arms over her head. She walked to the front door, checked that it was locked and then made herself walk past the windows with only a glance. Progress.
****
It felt like a red-hot branding iron was in his shoulder and he could barely move his arm. Shane opened his eyes and looked around, relieved to be in his bedroom but bewildered as to why. Then it came back to him; the saloon, the gamblers, and Old Will. He groaned, not so much due to the pain as to the amount of time he’d be laid up. At least he wasn’t in a room above the mercantile.
Cecily walked in looking pretty as a picture in her new blue dress. She had a mug of coffee in one hand and what looked to be a bowl of water in the other. She placed the items down on the table next to his bed and took a seat. He smiled as he waited for her to look at him. She jumped when she realized he was awake and he almost laughed. “Have I been out long?”
“Not really just long enough for a good night’s sleep. You have a nasty fever, though.” She gave him a worried smile.
“I feel a mite hot.” He still had his shirt on and wanted to laugh. “You do know the best way to get a fever down is to bathe the patient with cool water.”
“Yes, in fact I do know that, and I’ve been doing that very thing for hours.”
“But my shirt is still on.”
“Of course it is, but it’s unbuttoned. They brought you to me with your shirt on, and I didn’t want to take a chance of opening your wound by pulling it off. Plus I wasn’t sure if it was proper.” She turned her head away but not before he saw the bloom of redness in her cheeks.
“Well, I’m awake now so why don’t we get the shirt off? Here, help me sit up.” He waited until she was beside him before he moved. Her hands felt good on his back. Taking his uninjured arm out of the sleeve was easy. As she walked to the other side of the bed to help with the other sleeve there was a knock on the door.
Heaving a sigh, she gave him a smile and left to go answer.
Attempts to get the sleeve off himself became too painful. Besides, it’d be more
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