Читать книгу Someone's Baby - Dani Sinclair - Страница 13

Cade McGovern pulled off his dusty Stetson and set it beside him on the passenger seat. He chomped down on the toothpick in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Dumb bastard. He’d be smarter to let her go,” he muttered.

In his mirror, Cade watched the other man staring after him, before turning to walk back to his silver car. Cade could have been nicer, he admitted to himself. It wasn’t that poor bastard’s fault that Cade was out of sorts with himself and the world at large.

He’d jammed his thumb good on that cart when he started loading. Besides, Cade wasn’t fond of strangers and he hated coming into town. Technically, Darwin Crossing wasn’t enough of a town to make most maps, but it was as close to so-called civilization as he wanted to get. He could live just fine without other people and their problems. Especially some jerk old enough to know better than to saddle himself with a runaway wife.

At least Cade’s former wife, Bonita, had been smart enough not to get pregnant before she ran off, he thought grimly.

Thinking of Bonita caused him to bite down harder on the toothpick. How come all the paths in his head led to thinking about her lately? She was the last person he wanted to think about. No man liked to remember past mistakes, and Cade had never made a bigger one.

He’d been old enough to know better, yet her dark flashing eyes, sultry smile and lush beauty had nailed him like a deer caught in headlights. His grandfather had tried to warn him about women and ranching, but he hadn’t listened. Family history alone should have warned him.

It was funny, too, because Cade had been a loner by choice, ever since he could remember. Even when he was riding the rodeo circuit he’d kept to himself. Of course, in retrospect he realized that had been the draw for Bonita. She’d seen him as a challenge. And a winner, of course. Bonita wouldn’t have given him the time of day if he hadn’t been successful.

Cade cursed. She was haunting him from her grave.

No doubt because of the recent acts of sabotage on his ranch. He hadn’t gone out of his way to make enemies, so he could think of only one person who might have a reason to be causing him these petty problems. Luís D’Angelo. Bonita’s younger brother, was the only man alive who hated him that much. Luís blamed Cade for his sister’s death. He didn’t seem to find it significant that she’d died in a car crash with a man who wasn’t her husband. Luís was convinced Cade had been abusive and chased her away.

Cade could have told him how far off the mark that was. He could have told Luís several truths about his sainted sister, but the kid had only been sixteen when she died and in a moment of misplaced gallantry, Cade hadn’t wanted to totally disillusion the boy. So now the kid was out to destroy Cade and his ranch. And he didn’t seem to care who got hurt in the process.

Two of Cade’s men had been injured in the stampede someone had deliberately started while they were trying to move the herd yesterday. That was how Cade got saddled with coming into town today. With his banged-up elbow, Rio couldn’t lift the heavier supplies they needed and Sven had bruised a couple of ribs. Cade was only thankful that had been the worst of it.

Only plain dumb luck had kept anyone from getting hurt in the fire in the grain silo last week. Fortunately, Hap had spotted the smoke right away and the fire was put out before much damage was done. But the way these attacks were escalating, it was only a matter of time before someone got seriously hurt.

Cade’s foreman, Hap Ramirez, had wanted to call the sheriff in the beginning, right after the fences were cut and several girths were slit. Cade had found himself reluctant to send the law after his brother-in-law because of his age. But now, it looked like the kid was going to give him no choice in the matter.

This was a busy time on a working ranch. A time when a man didn’t need to be out hunting some fool kid hell-bent on a vendetta to avenge a cussed woman who hadn’t been worth it in the first place. With a sigh, Cade turned on the radio to drown out his thoughts.

He decided in town not to go straight back to the main house. The way things were going it had occurred to him that it might be a good idea to pick up some extra supplies and take them out to the old line shack. A backup location might come in handy in case the kid decided to torch the house next. Cade and his men couldn’t be everywhere at once. The Circle M was a large spread in the middle of nowhere. Normally, that suited Cade just fine.

He debated about calling Hap on the radio and letting him know about the change in plans, but the dour older man already had his hands full right now, especially since he was down three men with Cade gone, too. They needed to get the rest of the strays rounded up and the herd moved this week. Of course, Hap could run the Circle M by himself after all these years. He’d been foreman for Cade’s grandfather since forever. It had come as a shock to all of them when the old man succumbed to a bout of influenza and died unexpectedly last year.

Known for being a crusty old curmudgeon, Otis Mc-Govern had nevertheless taken in his only grandchild after the deaths of Cade’s own parents. Unfortunately, not before Cade had spent several years being shuffled from one foster home to another. Otis and his son hadn’t spoken in years, so it was some time before Otis learned what had transpired.

By the time Otis convinced authorities to let him have guardianship, Cade had a chip on his shoulder big enough to be visible a mile away. Otis ignored the chip. Being a cowboy from the old school, and a loner himself who liked it that way, he took Cade’s chip to be a matter of course. He took in his bewildered, angry grandson and taught him the only skill he knew. Ranching.

The two of them had butted heads like a pair of bulls after a rodeo clown. Neither knew how to back down. Yet somewhere along the line, Cade came to realize that he loved ranching and the land as much as his grandfather did. Still, as big as the ranch was, there could only be one person in charge. Cade finally walked out after a heated argument over some breeding stock and headed for the rodeo circuit. He’d been determined to win himself a stake that would let him buy a place of his own up in Colorado. He hadn’t wanted anything half as ambitious as the Circle M, just a small spread he could run himself.

Oddly enough, that pleased his grandfather. On Cade’s infrequent visits home, they got on better than they ever had when they’d lived together.

Cade let his thoughts roam the past until the line shack finally came into view. For a moment, he sat in his truck just drinking in the rugged beauty of the landscape. Jagged cliffs formed a backdrop for the shack. They fed the stream that ran to a small pond down below. The Circle M boasted some fabulous grazing land as well as several thick draws that were a haven for deer and other wildlife. The peace of this land never failed to move him. Several times Cade had thought this particular spot would have made a better location for the main house than the one his grandfather had selected all those years ago.

Maybe he’d unload everything and spend the night here. The idea had definite appeal. He must have had some subconscious thoughts along this line because he’d thrown his gear into the truck before he headed into town.

Cade pulled around in a semicircle in front of the shack to facilitate unloading. He turned off the engine, swung down from the cab, and settled his hat back on his head, low over his eyes. He tossed the mutilated toothpick into a thicket of brush and started to undo the tarp. A small mewing sound of distress made him pause. A kitten? What would a kitten be doing way out here? He looked around, hoping he hadn’t hit some animal when he pulled in.

Nothing moved anywhere nearby. Cade cocked his head, listening closely. The sound seemed to be coming from inside the bed of his truck.

He hurriedly unlashed the tarp and started pulling it back. Blood stained the nearest sack. Some poor little critter had obviously hurt itself and climbed in the back of his truck to nurse its wounds. And from the trail of bloodstains, the wound was probably going to prove fatal on a small animal. With a new sense of urgency, he yanked back the tarp, snagging it on something. Cade barely noticed.

There was no kitten in the back of his truck. Instead, shock held him still when he revealed a woman’s dainty foot, half in and half out of a small, badly scuffed loafer. A length of shapely leg was also revealed due to a rucked-up pant leg. Several nasty scratches ran along that leg, but nothing serious enough to account for the blood on the feed sacks. He ignored the pounding of his heart, unhooked the snagged tarp and stripped it all the way back.

The body and the face that went with the leg were definitely worth a second look. But from the blood that had soaked one side of her sheer blouse, the woman could be dead already.

For a moment, cold panic swept him. Clutched protectively against her chest was a tiny infant, its red face screwed up in distress. Its tragic cries sounded a bit like a kitten in distress.

He reached over the woman to lift the infant. Cade had never in his life held a live human baby this small, though he’d helped bring plenty of animals into the world. This little guy couldn’t be more than a couple of days old at most, he guessed. He checked it over quickly, looking for the source of the blood. There was no outward sign of injury and based on the amount of blood, there would have been. The blood must have come from the mother.

Cade swore under his breath. The woman never moved.

Instantly, his mind pictured the jerk outside the feed store. The man had said he was worried about his wife. Cradling the crying infant in one arm, he studied the woman. More of a girl, really, with a long spill of blond hair that partly covered her face. She didn’t move. With a sense of fatality, he reached out to feel for a pulse.

She had one! A fairly steady one at that. She was still very much alive.

One hand holding the baby, he gently, carefully, rolled the woman on her back to look for the source of the blood. Under her blouse something bulky lay against her shoulder. He worked the top two buttons of her blouse free and pulled out one of the baby’s disposable diapers.

“I’m afraid she may do something foolish and hurt herself,” the man had said. But Cade knew a bullet wound when he saw one. The bullet had chewed a path right across the top of her shoulder, tearing away the material of her blouse.

He couldn’t think of a single person who’d ever tried to commit suicide by shooting himself there. He examined the ugly raw wound. Unless he missed his guess, she’d been shot from the back, not the front.

Even if he was mistaken, an accidental shooting victim wouldn’t climb in the back of a stranger’s truck to hide. The bastard had shot her!

Cade growled, torn by conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he could understand all too well the anger a woman could raise in a man. On the other, there was no valid excuse for violence against a woman. Especially one who had to be half the bastard’s size—and age, judging by appearances. How could the bastard shoot her when there was an innocent little baby involved?

Cade muttered a curse. The last thing he wanted was to become embroiled in someone’s domestic problems. The woman had left him no choice. He’d become involved the moment she’d climbed into the back of his pickup truck and sought refuge.

He’d lose hours turning the truck around and taking her back to Darwin Crossing. Besides, it was a trip she might or might not survive, given her condition. When he thought of the jolting ride she must have endured back here under the hot tarp, he winced. No wonder she was unconscious.

The blood had stopped flowing, but she definitely needed medical attention. Only, the nearest doctor was almost an hour away. No doubt her jerk husband had discovered the doctor’s location as well. He’d probably be there waiting for her to show up.

The baby began to wail in earnest. A movement in the truck drew his gaze back to the woman. Even unconscious, she reached blindly for her child. Something inside Cade loosened at that sign of protective love.

A small bottle lay beside her. She’d obviously been trying to feed the tyke before she passed out. He frowned over the fact that she wasn’t nursing, but maybe she couldn’t. It probably wasn’t safe for her to do so with that bastard coming after her.

He reached for the bottle and stuck the nipple in the little guy’s mouth. Greedily, the baby began to suckle. Dark-blue eyes opened and gazed up at him with such trust that Cade knew he was lost. A child needed its mother. He knew that better than most.

And in this case, the mother needed a protector. Looking at the tiny infant he knew he’d just been elected. There was no way he was driving them back into harm’s way until he knew what the situation really was.

Since she was breathing okay on her own, and not bleeding anymore, he decided to deal with the infant first. The crying had been more than he could stand. He wanted to make absolutely sure the baby wasn’t hurt.

His medical skills were limited, but any good rancher knew enough first aid to deal with emergencies. What Cade didn’t know was what to do with a human infant. Give him a cow or a horse or even some poor kitten—no problem. But God help him, he’d never even contemplated changing a diaper before. Yet the kid was soaked. It couldn’t be good for the little guy. Holding the baby and bottle awkwardly in one hand, he reached for a large, soft bag that had become jammed between the cab of the truck and some sort of baby carrier.

The yellow-and-green bag hadn’t been there when he first began loading the truck so he guessed it was hers. There were blood smears on it, as well. No doubt he’d need both the contents of the bag and the carrier that doubled as a seat.

The dark, dusty interior of the unpainted building was less than welcoming. Cade frowned. It was a line shack, for crying out loud. There was one window and one door. This was a place where a couple of men could throw down their gear and sack out on the bunk beds, protected from inclement weather. He took mental inventory. It housed a cookstove, a few dishes, some implements, the bunk beds, a wobbly table and four chairs. There was a lean-to out back with a couple of stalls for horses and some oil lanterns for light. And thankfully, a pump to provide water. Beyond that, there were no amenities.

Well, it was what it was. The shack would do until he could determine how badly she was hurt.

Awkwardly, he set down the carrier and placed the baby inside. The minute he removed the nipple, the infant screwed up its face and began to wail.

“Okay, look. Just hold on for a minute. I’ve got to see to your mother. You can finish eating in a second.”

The baby was in no mood to be placated by mere words. He was hungry and he was letting Cade know it. He howled at the top of his tiny lungs.

“Certainly can’t be anything seriously wrong with you if you can scream like that.” Cade wasted a few minutes grabbing his kit from the front seat of the truck and spreading his sleeping bag over the lumpy mattress. Then he returned to the truck for the woman.

She moaned softly when he lifted her, but those sweepingly thick dark eyelashes only fluttered against her pale cheeks without raising. She was incredibly slender. Why, she didn’t weigh much at all.

Long, pale hair spilled like ribbons of satin against his toughened skin. He tried to pretend that he didn’t notice how good she smelled or how pretty she was. Her graceful neck draped limply over his arm. Like her kid, she was a tiny bit of a thing. Small boned, delicately shaped, she had an upturned little nose and soft, nicely shaped lips.

And a bullet hole in her shoulder.

Cade toughened his heart and his thoughts. He carried her inside and laid her down on his open sleeping bag. She was pretty, but young. Much too young for an old man like him. In fact, too young for the jerk claiming to be her husband. No wedding ring, either, he noticed. In fact, no rings at all.

Since carrying her inside hadn’t started the bleeding up again nor roused her, Cade turned his attention back to the screaming infant. He was afraid the little guy would hurt himself crying that hard.

The baby quieted instantly as soon as the nipple returned to his mouth. Cade let him drink for several minutes before pulling the bottle back. He had to get the supplies inside before it got dark. Junior was not happy.

“Okay, fella, hold your horses. I’ll be right back.”

He off-loaded the food supplies first. Then he dug out the first-aid kit and a couple of jugs of fresh water, removed the spare blankets and added the two new shirts he’d bought himself today. The young woman would need something to put on once he cut off her fancy shirt, and these were all he had to offer beyond the change of clothing in his bedroll.

The baby had really worked himself into a state by the time Cade hauled all the stuff inside. He dropped his hat on a chair and turned back to the infant.

“Shh. Hush. It’s okay. The feed bags can wait. I’ll get them later.” He withdrew another bottle from the contents of the bag and stuck the nipple back in the baby’s mouth with one hand and tried to unwrap the kid with the other hand.

“We’ve got to get you out of this wet stuff. You stink worse than the outhouse, kid. You’ll get a rash or something sitting around in it like this.”

What the heck was he doing playing nanny to some baby? He didn’t know anything about kids. Especially one as small as this. He’d probably hurt him with his big clumsy hands. Look how tiny his fingers were! How could something this small make so much noise?

“You’re awfully loud, you know that, tiger?” The baby ignored his commentary to suck down the formula.

“Man, you were thirsty. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It must have been hot as Hades under that tarp. But you’re going to get a stomachache drinking like that.”

In the end, he waited for the baby to finish the bottle. The kid instantly began to whimper again wanting more.

“Hang on. I’ll see what I can do as soon as I get you changed, okay?”

Obviously it was not okay based on the noise and the way the baby began to flail his arms and legs. Cade stripped away the wet garments. A gauze pad covered his stomach. For a second, his heart stopped. Had the infant been hurt as well? He peeled back the pad carefully and discovered the stump of the umbilical cord.

Cade swore. “Sorry, kid. But that looks nasty.” There was dried blood around the withering navel. Was it supposed to look like that? Should he be doing something for it?

“Why couldn’t you have been a kitten?”

First, he’d better get the wet diaper off. Paying close attention to the way the diaper fastened, he removed it.

“You’re a she!”

Why that surprised him, he couldn’t have said, but the infant quieted at his exclamation. She stared up at him with wide, trusting eyes.

“Oh, yeah, you’re definitely a female. Don’t be batting those baby blues at me, kid. You’re like every other woman I’ve ever met, you don’t like being wet or dirty, do you? Must be something you’re all born with. Now hold still while I give this diapering business a try. How the heck is this supposed to work? You’re a lot smaller than these diapers, kid…No…Hold still. Don’t kick your legs like that…Will you hold still?”

It was like trying to pin a wet octopus. Her arms and legs thrashed and she began crying again, probably wanting more milk. Eventually he got her wiped off and the dry diaper in place—after a fashion.

“It ain’t pretty, kid, but it should do the job.”

He found rubbing alcohol in his kit and dabbed a little on the cord where it had been bleeding. The baby objected.

“Sorry, little girl, but you’ll get an infection or something.” He covered the area with some antibacterial cream and a small bit of gauze.

After digging through the bag, he came up with a second outfit and finally won the battle of getting her into it. Then he reached for another bottle of formula.

“Mouthy little thing, aren’t you? You want what you want when you want it.” But he found an unaccustomed smile curving his lips as he watched her drink. She was beautiful. Her eyes stared complacently up at him, then closed peacefully as he rocked her gently in his arms.

“You’re going to grow up to be a heartbreaker, you know that? You’ll lead some dumb male on a merry chase, won’t you, little one?”

Running the back of a knuckle over her soft skin, he marveled at her tiny countenance. There was something almost soothing holding her like this. Wisps of light-colored hair and a small pointy chin were her only real distinguishable features. He glanced over at the mother to see if her chin was pointy, too, and found himself being observed by a pair of light-blue eyes.

“So, you’re awake. How do you feel?” Unnerved to be caught off guard that way, the words came out sharper than he’d intended.

The woman’s mouth parted dryly. The tip of her tongue licked at her chapped lips and he realized the baby wasn’t the only one who was thirsty. She tried to sit up and her face contorted in obvious pain. “Is…the baby okay?”

“Your daughter is fine. She was just wet and hungry. I’ll get you some water and have a look at your shoulder in a minute. She’s already polished off a bottle and a half and she’s nearly asleep.”

The cabin was growing dark. He needed to get the rest of the supplies inside and arrange some light so he could see before it grew too dark. A fire wouldn’t be amiss, either. He’d need to make dinner and he desperately wanted a cup of coffee.

The baby’s frantic sucking had slowed right along with its breathing. He took a chance and set the infant back in her carrier. With a contented sigh, she seemed to settle back, peacefully asleep. Cade reached for a lantern and used a few seconds to fire up the wick.

“Let me get a fire started and put some water on to boil, okay?”

The woman’s eyes had closed again. She didn’t answer. He walked over and laid a hand on her forehead. A little warm. Was she running a fever? He hoped not. His first-aid kit wasn’t as up-to-date as it should have been. She lifted her eyelids with obvious effort to peer up at him.

“Here. Let’s try a little water.” He found a cup, wiped it out with the inside of his clean handkerchief and offered her water from one of the jugs he’d brought inside. Like her daughter, she drank thirstily as he held her silky head. Damn, but she had nice hair, even if some of it was matted with dried blood. Her eyes closed and he laid her back down.

“Stay with me, okay?”

“’kay,” she whispered, but she didn’t open her eyes again.

Cade frowned. This wasn’t a good sign. How much blood had she lost? The wound might become infected. Bringing her inside had been a really bad idea. He should have taken her straight back to town or over to the doc’s place.

“Listen. Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” she replied without opening her eyes.

“I’m going outside to the truck. I’m going to radio Hap to send us some help. It’s going to take awhile, but I’ll get you to a doctor as quick as I can, okay? Miss? Hey. Can you hear me?”

He touched her cheek lightly, but she didn’t move. Her chest rose and fell in steady rhythm. She’d fallen asleep.

Or into a coma.

That thought scared him with gut-clenching intensity. As he squatted beside her, the sound of his truck engine coming to life was like an unexpected thunderclap. Cade leaped to his feet. In three short strides he was at the door.

“Hey! Hey hold it! Come back here!”

Someone was stealing his truck!

Cade raced after the vehicle as it barreled away down the rutted path that served as a road. He shouted to no avail. The bastard had no intention of stopping. While Cade hadn’t gotten a clear look at the driver, he didn’t need to. It had to be his brother-in-law, Luís.

But how had the kid known where he was? How had anyone known where he was?

An icy finger of fear raised the hair on the back of his head.

What if he was wrong? What if that hadn’t been Luís?

In the deepening twilight, Cade controlled a moment of panic. He forced himself to think. The line shack was a long way from the road. Hell, it was a long way from anything. How had Luís gotten here?

Cade surveyed the landscape surrounding the shack. There was no sign of another vehicle or a horse but the kid couldn’t have walked in. A drifter? There was a draw out behind the cabin to the east a ways, and of course the hills behind the shack. It was possible that a drifter had been camping nearby and seized the moment.

It was also possible that the drifter hadn’t been alone.

That thought stopped him cold. The isolation of the line shack was complete. Without that truck he had no means of communication or escape. Cade cursed his stupidity and the bastard who had driven off. His options had just vanished, leaving him stranded with a badly wounded woman and an infant.

Another chilling possibility worked its way forward. What if the woman’s husband had followed him here? A remote chance, but barely possible. He hadn’t really paid any attention to others on the road once he left town.

If it had been the husband, the bastard would have had to leave that little silver car of his out near the road. That meant he walked in, which meant his car wasn’t far away.

If it had been the husband.

Cade couldn’t leave the woman and the baby alone to check out that theory or any of the others. This was a perfect place for an ambush. Once he was out of sight all the bastard had to do was ditch the truck and circle back to the clearing.

Cade swore viciously. Every possibility he could think of presented potential danger. His rifle was inside his truck. The only weapon he had with him was a .38. He was pretty sure it only held three or four rounds.

Cade headed back inside. He lit a second oil lamp and dug his gun out of his gear. The feel of the heavy metal was reassuring. At least he wasn’t totally defenseless.

His pulse hummed with tension as he walked back outside and checked the wood box. Supplies were on the low side, but adequate for tonight. The real blessing was that he’d unloaded the important supplies before the bastard stole the truck. He had food, bottled water, blankets and his gun. What he didn’t have was a radio, transportation, more than one box of diapers or a lot of spare formula for the baby.

He hoped the woman could breast-feed soon or they were going to find out how the infant liked powdered milk. Cade primed the pump and let the water run until most of the brown discoloration was replaced by clear water. He filled a couple of pans with the water and lit the wood-burning stove. After stacking more wood inside, he dragged the table full of supplies over against the front door. At least no one could walk in on them without warning. Finally, he was able to turn his attention to the woman.

Girl, he corrected himself harshly, looking down at her relaxed face in the soft yellow light of the lantern. She couldn’t be more than sixteen or seventeen. Much too young to be married, let alone have a child. If he had that jerk bastard from the crossing here right now, he’d happily beat the man to a bloody pulp.

As far as Cade could see, the girl hadn’t moved. He grabbed the first-aid kit and braced himself for the delicate operation of removing her blouse.

He’d intended to cut the material away from the wound, but given the new situation, he might need to cut his spare shirts into diapers. There was only the one box of diapers tucked inside the bag she’d carried. Who knew how long those would last? He’d have to remove her blouse carefully and try to wash the blood out so she could wear it again.

Fresh blood matted the thin material, adhering it to her like a second skin. Cade frowned. How much blood had she lost? If that bullet had nicked the bone or an artery they were going to be in serious trouble.

If only she wasn’t so pretty. Why couldn’t she have been some fat old hag? He was feeling like a dirty old man for even noticing this one was female.

Taking a deep breath, he undid her buttons quickly. A lacy, white bra that fastened in the front was revealed. He had no intention of touching that! And he carefully averted his eyes from the sight of her small, high round breasts nicely filling the flimsy material. Cade cursed beneath his breath.

This was going to be harder than he’d thought. She lay like a rag doll as he lifted her slight weight and untucked the blouse from her slacks, slipping the white material off her good arm. She moaned softly as he laid her back down.

“Hey. Wake up. It would be a big help if you’d open your eyes and give me a hand here.”

No such luck. Her skin definitely felt warm and dry to the touch. Not a good sign. He’d take bets she was running a fever. He prayed the wound hadn’t gotten infected.

Water boiled on the stove. He let it go and rolled her to one side so he could ease the blouse away from her injured shoulder.

She was as delicate and fragile as a small bird. In back, the material of the blouse had crusted against the wound. He tried to ease it free gently, but the scab broke, starting a fresh trickle of blood.

With a muttered oath, he wadded her sleeve and pressed it against the wound, all the while thinking how badly he wanted five minutes alone with the bastard who’d shot her. At least the bullet hadn’t gone into the shoulder, but it had taken out a lot of tissue as it plowed a groove through her skin alongside the bra strap.

He had no business playing doctor with a wound this serious. He should have driven her back into town as soon as he found her, husband or no husband. But it was no use thinking what he should have done. The important thing was to do the right thing for her now.

He pressed against the wound until the bleeding stopped, then he stood, whipped off the bandanna from around his neck and put it into the pan of boiling water. All the while he cursed himself for a fool.

He made himself wait five full minutes before he fished the bandanna out of the water with a fork and held it over the small sink until it cooled enough so he could wring it out.

Gently, he began washing away the dried blood from around her wound. She shifted restlessly. He had to hold her still so she didn’t roll onto her back.

“Easy. I’m cleaning away the blood. Hold still, okay?”

She was worse than her daughter. Cade couldn’t tell if she heard him or not, but the sound of his voice seemed to soothe her, so he continued talking as he worked.

“This needs stitches, little girl. I’ve got some thread and if you were a man, I might be tempted.” But she was definitely no man and he couldn’t bring himself to stick a needle into her soft, white skin.

“I’m going to pour some disinfectant into the wound. It’s gonna sting, but we need to keep it from getting infected.” He wondered if she heard or understood anything he was saying. “I’ll have to use butterfly bandages to try to pull the skin together. I’ve got tape and gauze so I’ll wrap it tightly. That should hold you until I can get you to a doctor.”

God only knew how long that would be.

There was no way to lower the strap of the bra without jarring the wound. She wasn’t going to like it, but he used his knife to cut the strap before he set some fresh water boiling on the stove and stoked the fire. He couldn’t stall forever. He was going to have to get this over with. He debated between the iodine or the rubbing alcohol. But the alcohol would disinfect the wound and he could put some of the antibacterial cream on it afterward. If this didn’t wake her, nothing would.

He poured a small amount of rubbing alcohol directly into the wound. She cried out and opened her eyes, instantly shutting them again tightly.

“What are you doing?” she demanded in a raw voice as he mopped up the dripping excess.

“We have to prevent infection.”

“I’ll take my chances with the germs.” Watery blue eyes glared up at him. “Get that stuff away from me.”

“Don’t worry, I’m done. I need to put some cream on the wound.”

“No.” Her lips set in mutinous lines of determination.

“Look, you’re in no position to be giving me any grief. Hold still or you’ll start it bleeding again.”

“No. I—Ow! That hurts!”

“All done.”

She blinked back tears as he blotted her chest lightly with his handkerchief.

“How would you like me to do that to you?” she growled, brushing away a tear.

He tried not to feel bad or guilty over causing her more pain. “I’m not injured.”

“I can fix that.”

Cade’s lips twisted in a smile in spite of himself. The girl had spunk. “Let me put on a bandage.”

“Forget it. Let me die in peace.”

“You aren’t gonna die.”

“I am if you keep helping me.”

His lips twitched. Her voice might be weak, but she had spunk. Her grit came as a complete surprise. He’d expected buckets of tears. She had to be in considerable pain.

“It was an antibacterial cream.”

“I know what it was and my shoulder hurts like the devil. Will you just take me to a doctor?”

“I’d love to, but we have a problem.”

Her tired eyes opened again. “What problem?”

“Someone stole my truck.”

“What are you talking about? Where are we?”

“We’re at a line shack on my ranch.”

“Well, call someone!”

“Happy to oblige, but the radio is in the truck.”

“Then use your cell phone.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Everyone has a cell phone these days.”

Cade shook his head. “I’m not real fond of modern technology.”

“Yeah. I could tell from your archaic idea of medicine. What are you doing?”

“Tryin’ to put a butterfly bandage over the bullet hole. And it would be a whole lot easier if you’d hold still and cooperate.”

“I don’t trust you.”

Offended, he pursed his lips. Ungrateful little witch. “Well, get over it. Right now, I’m all you’ve got.”

She glared at him, but held still while he applied the bandages and began to wrap her shoulder. Suddenly, her eyes grew wide.

“You took off my blouse!”

Embarrassed, he didn’t meet her eyes. “Tough to tend your wound with it on. I had to cut the strap off your bra as well.”

“You didn’t,” she gasped.

“’Fraid so, but you can’t wear it over that shoulder anyhow. And your blouse won’t be good for much even after I wash it out. Don’t worry. You’re perfectly safe with me.”

“You’re gay?”

Indignant, he glared at her. “Of course not!”

“Then why should I believe I’m safe with you?”

“Because my taste doesn’t run to mouthy juveniles with tiny babies and a gun-toting husband,” he snapped in reply. “I take it he was the one who shot you?”

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened, but she swallowed back what she started to say and looked at him strangely. “Who are you?”

“Cade McGovern. Who are you?”

“Jayne.”

He waited but she didn’t offer a last name. The baby stirred behind him as he finished wrapping the tape around her shoulder.

“Well, Jayne. I hope you’re prepared to breast-feed because your daughter will soon polish off those bottles you were traveling with and I don’t imagine powdered milk is going to make a good substitute.”