to deal with.” Sitting up this long had drained what little strength he had and, despite his efforts, his shoulders started to sag.
“We best get you back to bed,” Ellie said, laying the baby down. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and helped him stand. She nestled her body close to his so that she had a firm grip on him, though he doubted she could support his weight if he did fall. She was such a little bit.
He grunted, hating the weakness in his body.Slowly they moved across the cabin. When she eased him onto the bed, he felt as if he’d run ten miles.
“Don’t worry. You will be your old self soon enough.”
He glanced up at her, surprised she had read his thoughts.
She caught his expression and smiled. “You’re an open book.”
He lay back on the pillow. “I am not an open book.” Hell, how many times had he bluffed his way through a bad poker hand or around an outlaw when his gun was out of bullets?
She tucked the blanket under his chin. “You were worried about me, weren’t you? I could see it on your face.”
Had he been that transparent? Damn, he was losing his touch.
She laughed.
CHAPTER FIVE
W HEN N ICK WOKE , the sun was low in the sky, bathing the cabin in orange and red light. He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, but his leg no longer burned with pain.
Sitting up slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. For a second, he paused, until the swimming sensation eased and his body adjusted to sitting up. From the corner of his eye, he saw his gun on the bedside table.
The faint smell of stew filled the cabin.
He glanced down at his naked body. He’d have to find his clothes.
Dragging a blanket with him, he wrapped it around his waist and stood. Immediately his leg started to throb. The pain forced him to lean against the wall and ease the weight from his injured limb, but he was heartened to realize the ripping pain he’d endured days ago hadn’t returned. Good. He was healing. Now if he could just find Ellie.
A large walking stick leaned against the cabin wall. A sign of Ellie. He sensed she wasn’t far. Damn, did the woman ever stay in one place?
He limped outside. The cool, fresh air smelled sweet.
Ellie sat in a rocker, her back to the front door. Her hair hung loose, past her shoulders. As he stepped closer, he realized she had a nursing bottle in the baby’s mouth.
The sight of Ellie holding the baby stirred images and emotions he’d thought long forgotten.
She glanced up. “It’s good to see you moving about. How does your leg feel?”
“Better.”
“Good.”
He’d not realized until this moment how young she looked—perhaps not even twenty years old. “Where are my clothes?”
“I’ll get them.” She stood and he could see she was dressed in the same frayed dress she’d worn when he arrived. The garment hid the full curve of her breasts and her narrow waist. He’d seen women draped in silks, furs and jewels who had not looked half as stunning as Ellie did now. His body hardened and he was grateful for the blanket draped around his waist.
“No need, just point the way,” he said, his voice gruff.
“Be easier if I showed you.” Carrying the baby, she walked inside. “I did laundry yesterday.”
Yesterday. “How long have I been sleeping?”
She nodded to the clothes in a neat stack at the edge of her bed. “This time? Only about six hours.”
“And since I’ve been shot?”
“Six days.”
“Six days!” He’d never lost time like this before and it was unsettling.
“Six days is nothing. Most men would have been out for weeks.”
He wasn’t appeased. Instead he thought of Frank. The bastard could be anywhere.
“I washed your clothes. They were a mess. Blood splattered up onto your shirt and it took a good bit of scrubbing to get it out. There was no saving your pants but I found a second pair in your saddlebag, which I cleaned.”
The baby stirred in her arms and she pulled the bottle from her mouth, set it
“We best get you back to bed,” Ellie said, laying the baby down. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and helped him stand. She nestled her body close to his so that she had a firm grip on him, though he doubted she could support his weight if he did fall. She was such a little bit.
He grunted, hating the weakness in his body.Slowly they moved across the cabin. When she eased him onto the bed, he felt as if he’d run ten miles.
“Don’t worry. You will be your old self soon enough.”
He glanced up at her, surprised she had read his thoughts.
She caught his expression and smiled. “You’re an open book.”
He lay back on the pillow. “I am not an open book.” Hell, how many times had he bluffed his way through a bad poker hand or around an outlaw when his gun was out of bullets?
She tucked the blanket under his chin. “You were worried about me, weren’t you? I could see it on your face.”
Had he been that transparent? Damn, he was losing his touch.
She laughed.
CHAPTER FIVE
W HEN N ICK WOKE , the sun was low in the sky, bathing the cabin in orange and red light. He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, but his leg no longer burned with pain.
Sitting up slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. For a second, he paused, until the swimming sensation eased and his body adjusted to sitting up. From the corner of his eye, he saw his gun on the bedside table.
The faint smell of stew filled the cabin.
He glanced down at his naked body. He’d have to find his clothes.
Dragging a blanket with him, he wrapped it around his waist and stood. Immediately his leg started to throb. The pain forced him to lean against the wall and ease the weight from his injured limb, but he was heartened to realize the ripping pain he’d endured days ago hadn’t returned. Good. He was healing. Now if he could just find Ellie.
A large walking stick leaned against the cabin wall. A sign of Ellie. He sensed she wasn’t far. Damn, did the woman ever stay in one place?
He limped outside. The cool, fresh air smelled sweet.
Ellie sat in a rocker, her back to the front door. Her hair hung loose, past her shoulders. As he stepped closer, he realized she had a nursing bottle in the baby’s mouth.
The sight of Ellie holding the baby stirred images and emotions he’d thought long forgotten.
She glanced up. “It’s good to see you moving about. How does your leg feel?”
“Better.”
“Good.”
He’d not realized until this moment how young she looked—perhaps not even twenty years old. “Where are my clothes?”
“I’ll get them.” She stood and he could see she was dressed in the same frayed dress she’d worn when he arrived. The garment hid the full curve of her breasts and her narrow waist. He’d seen women draped in silks, furs and jewels who had not looked half as stunning as Ellie did now. His body hardened and he was grateful for the blanket draped around his waist.
“No need, just point the way,” he said, his voice gruff.
“Be easier if I showed you.” Carrying the baby, she walked inside. “I did laundry yesterday.”
Yesterday. “How long have I been sleeping?”
She nodded to the clothes in a neat stack at the edge of her bed. “This time? Only about six hours.”
“And since I’ve been shot?”
“Six days.”
“Six days!” He’d never lost time like this before and it was unsettling.
“Six days is nothing. Most men would have been out for weeks.”
He wasn’t appeased. Instead he thought of Frank. The bastard could be anywhere.
“I washed your clothes. They were a mess. Blood splattered up onto your shirt and it took a good bit of scrubbing to get it out. There was no saving your pants but I found a second pair in your saddlebag, which I cleaned.”
The baby stirred in her arms and she pulled the bottle from her mouth, set it
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