Читать книгу Whirlwind Groom - Debra Cowan - Страница 10

W hy in the Sam Hill had Josie Webster been in his jail? Davis Lee was still chewing on that question the next morning during church. He knew exactly how she had managed to wind up in his office the minute he left it. And it was mighty suspicious that Jake’s horse just happened to spook at the same time.

Davis Lee didn’t know what to make of the woman. When she had pulled that scalpel out of her bodice, he’d nearly swallowed his teeth. The last thing he needed was to replay the image of her hand slipping between her breasts. He couldn’t seem to stop it though he tried hard to focus instead on the doubts she raised in him.

Maybe he was suspicious because the first time he had seen Josie, desire had hit him hard and fast. He didn’t trust such raw instant want. It had gotten him in a passel of trouble before and he wasn’t giving in to it again. Still, he spent more time thinking about the intriguing brunette than Reverend Scoggins’s sermon.

Catching her in his jail reinforced Davis Lee’s certainty that she was up to something. Which was why he had gone straight to Ef and gotten a big padlock for McDougal’s cell. One reason—the only reason—he had agreed to teach her to shoot was to see if she was comfortable with guns and knew how to handle them. The woman knew how to use a scalpel, for crying out loud. It was possible she knew how to use a gun, as well.

He had no proof, but he couldn’t shake the feeling she had some connection to McDougal. Her request for shooting lessons had seemed too ready. Prepared almost.

After church he turned around and saw her rising from the back pew. The burn of desire he felt didn’t surprise him, but the relief that she was here and not slipping inside his jail again did.

She stepped outside and started down the stairs, but the reverend stopped her. Keeping an eye on her, Davis Lee moved into the aisle as his brother, Riley, and his wife, Susannah, gathered up their baby. He greeted Cora Wilkes and her brother, Loren Barnes, who had come to Whirlwind about two months ago to help his widowed sister.

From the corner of his eye, Davis Lee saw Josie move down the steps then stop to speak to Pearl Anderson. This time he walked out on the landing and she glanced up. When their gazes locked, he nodded and met her at the bottom.

He greeted Pearl as she walked past him to speak to someone else, but his attention stayed on Josie.

“Sheriff,” she said.

“Davis Lee.” He smiled. The peach dress she wore accentuated her breasts and small waist. The color became her, warming her golden skin and deepening the green of her eyes. He couldn’t help wondering if the deep-cut bodice filled with white pleating hid her scalpel. “Nice to see you, Miz Webster. Did you enjoy the service?”

“Yes, I did. Did you?”

She was about the same height as Susannah, and she was small. A small brown hat circled by a ribbon matching her dress sat jauntily on her head, crowning the mass of hair she’d worn up today. A tiny mole on her collarbone peeked out at him. “Reverend Scoggins always has something good to say.”

A smile curved her lips. “That’s the least committed answer I’ve ever heard, Sheriff.”

He grinned, moving his gaze to her face. “I have to say I’m glad to see you here and not in my jail. Did you come to repent?”

She tilted her head, looking more serious than he’d seen before. “You’re teasing me.”

“Maybe. Are you still interested in your shooting lessons?”

“Oh, yes. I think it’s something I should do.”

“All right, then.”

“You’ll still teach me?”

“Yes.” Having been hornswoggled before, Davis Lee knew he should keep a distance from her, but he needed to find out whatever he could about this woman.

Judging from his experience with her so far, he wouldn’t get far by asking her questions, but he could learn plenty by observing her up close.

“Davis Lee, we’re expecting you for lunch.”

He turned at the sound of his sister-in-law’s voice. “I’m looking forward to it, Susannah. We’re not having biscuits, are we?”

Riley laughed as he walked up with his blond-haired daughter resting happily on his shoulder. Lorelai wasn’t Riley’s blood, but no one could tell him that. Davis Lee had never seen his brother love anyone as much as he loved that little girl and her mother.

“If you two don’t behave, I will cook biscuits,” Susannah said. “And I’ll purposely make them hard as rocks.”

Davis Lee chuckled. He liked his sister-in-law more every time he was around her. She and Riley had been married only about five months. For a while Davis Lee had wondered if the two hardheaded idiots would ever realize their feelings for one another.

Thanks to her brother, a pregnant Susannah had come to Whirlwind under the impression that Riley wanted to marry her, but he hadn’t been the least bit interested. At first.

Davis Lee felt Josie step away and he turned to her. “Y’all need to meet one of our newest citizens. This is Josie Webster. Miz Webster, this is my brother Riley and his wife, Susannah.”

“And our daughter, Lorelai.” Susannah touched the baby’s back with one hand as she shook Josie’s hand warmly with the other. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hello.” Josie gave a soft smile.

Riley smiled. “Have you just arrived in town?”

“About a week ago.”

Davis Lee noticed she told the truth easily on that point. “Miz Webster is a dressmaker. She’s going to open a shop here.”

“You’d be very welcome,” Susannah said.

“Thank you.” Josie gave Davis Lee a small frown.

“You’d have no shortage of work if that concerns you.” Susannah tucked a stray blond hair into her chignon. “In fact, Riley and Davis Lee’s cousin, Jericho, is getting married in about a month and a half. His intended is planning to see a seamstress in Abilene about a new dress.”

“I bet Miz Webster would be interested in the job. Wouldn’t you?” Davis Lee practically dared her to say no.

Josie’s lips flattened, hinting that she was trying hard to remain pleasant. “Perhaps you could refer me to her?”

Susannah pointed to Catherine Donnelly, a raven-haired woman who stood talking to the reverend with a husky young boy at her side.

Before she followed Susannah’s gaze, Josie glared at Davis Lee. He could tell by the fire in her green eyes that she didn’t like him poking his nose into her affairs.

Too bad. He wanted to get a bead on the woman who had given him the jolt of his life by pulling that weapon from her bodice.

“Let me go get her.” Susannah hurried off and returned in a moment with the tall, slender woman. She introduced her to Josie then said, “Josie is a dressmaker.”

Davis Lee watched with amusement. Before his little spy left church today, she might have enough work to keep her busy and out of his jail.

As the women agreed upon a time for Catherine to come by Josie’s hotel room to discuss her wedding dress, Cora Wilkes and her brother joined them.

“Hello, everyone.” The older woman, widowed almost a year ago when the McDougal gang murdered her husband, patted Davis Lee’s arm and smiled at him and Riley. “How are you today, boys?”

“Doin’ well, Cora.” Davis Lee bussed her cheek, wondering if Josie knew that one reason Ian McDougal sat in Whirlwind’s jail was for murdering Cora’s husband, Ollie, last fall.

“Just fine, Cora.” Riley brushed a kiss against her other cheek and shook the hand of the trim, distinguished-looking man next to her.

“Cora Wilkes, this is Josie Webster.” Susannah pulled the newcomer forward as the older woman smiled and shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Josie.” Cora gestured to the man standing at her shoulder. “This is my brother, Loren Barnes.”

He shook her hand, his blue eyes warm. “I’m new, too. It’s nice that I’m not the only one.”

“Where are you from?”

“Fort Smith.”

“I’ve never been there.”

Josie spoke warmly, unhurriedly, but Davis Lee felt nervousness ripple off her. Why?

Susannah touched Josie’s arm. “I do hope you decide to stay in Whirlwind. You’d like it here.”

Josie smiled.

As Susannah and Catherine admired the other woman’s dress, Riley edged up next to Davis Lee and said in a low voice, “Why are you lookin’ at her like you expect her to pull a gun and hold us up?”

Davis Lee took a gurgling Lorelai from his brother and bounced her on his shoulder as he eyed the seamstress. “Twice I’ve caught her showing a powerful interest in my jail. She was watching it from the alley between the livery and Pete’s saloon until I saw her there. Now she has a room at the Whirlwind that looks right at the jail, and yesterday, I found her inside. I think she’s connected to McDougal.”

His brother frowned. “How?”

“Sweetheart, maybe, or relative. I don’t know yet, but I’ve got a telegram ready to send to the Galveston County sheriff and see what I can find out. I’d have sent the wire yesterday, but Tony got sick and had to close the telegraph office.”

“It sure would be a shame if she’s taken up with the likes of a McDougal. She’s pretty.”

“Which doesn’t mean anything. She’s probably also a liar.”

“Maybe not. Every pretty woman isn’t a swindler.”

Davis Lee gave him a flat stare. “Just because you found a good woman like Susannah doesn’t mean we’ll all be so lucky.”

“True enough, but maybe Josie will surprise you.”

“She will. If she keeps away from my prisoner.” Davis Lee watched a shy smile cross her face as Susannah and Catherine spoke to her.

His brother could be fooled if he wanted. Riley wasn’t the one who’d had his heart trampled by a beautiful heartless woman. Davis Lee was harder to dupe and he knew Josie Webster was trying to do just that. First thing tomorrow he would wire Galveston’s sheriff.

The next evening Josie paused outside Sheriff Holt’s office at six-forty-five. Gray clouds had scudded across the sky all day threatening showers, and the air had been pleasantly cool, but the rain hadn’t come. Pressing a hand to her stomach did nothing to calm the flurries there. She had watched the jail today while finishing Gus Simon’s work shirts.

Sheriff Holt had reverted to his original schedule and stepped out for his usual pie and coffee at nine-forty-five, then for lunch at twelve-thirty. Josie made a quick trip to the telegraph and post office to send Gus’s shirts to Galveston. Midafternoon, Catherine Donnelly had arrived for Josie to take her measurements. As Catherine softly talked about her fiancé, a Texas Ranger who was taking care of some business in Houston, Josie worked up an estimate of the cost and time involved to make a dress for Catherine’s upcoming wedding. For that hour, Josie had been unable to watch the jail. As far as she knew, McDougal hadn’t been let out other than for a trip to the outhouse.

The sheriff hadn’t even allowed McDougal to close the privy door. Whenever Holt escorted his shackled prisoner outside, Josie noted it was with a posture that hinted at quick reflexes and an unstinting alertness. The rugged man caused her tongue to twist on itself, but so far he hadn’t shown any inkling of knowing the real reason she was here.

As she lifted her hand to knock on the door of the sheriff’s office, it opened and he smiled down at her. His eyes were a piercing blue in the evening light. “Good evening, Miz Webster. How are you?”

“Very well, thank you. I truly appreciate you taking the time to give me these lessons.”

“You’re welcome.” He reached behind him to shut the door. “I’ll be back around dark, Jake.”

“Take your time,” a deep masculine voice answered.

As Josie walked down the steps in front of the sheriff, he asked, “Do you ride or should we take a wagon?”

“I ride. Where are we going?”

“About two miles outside of town.”

She nodded, struck by the intense way he studied her. He appeared to be anticipating a reaction from her, but about what?

The sheriff had borrowed a black mare for her from the livery and moved to help her into the saddle, but she had already mounted. She had worn her dark blue split skirt so she could ride astride.

As they left Whirlwind behind, Josie tried to keep her attention on the patches of yellow and purple wildflowers spotting the flat landscape and not the way the muscles in Davis Lee’s thighs flexed as he guided his horse.

But the burlap bag full of clanging tin cans that he carried behind his saddle drew her attention to him repeatedly.

She needed to remember that he and these lessons were just her way of trying to find out information about Ian McDougal. Her next attempt on the outlaw wouldn’t be hindered.

As they rode leisurely down the dirt road, Davis Lee glanced at her. “I heard this morning that a big hurricane hit Galveston last night.”

Concern flared for all the friends she’d left behind. When she was thirteen, a vicious storm had hit Indianola, killing one hundred and seventy-six people in the city down the coast from Galveston and entirely flooding her city. “Was anyone hurt or killed?”

“I haven’t heard yet. All of their telegraph wires are down.”

Which happened in almost every hurricane. Josie frowned. “So how did you know about the storm?”

“Some folks from Houston spread the word. The sheriff there sent a wire to several counties to the north and west.”

“Oh.” Josie decided she should keep her mouth shut. Davis Lee wiring the Galveston County sheriff was something she hadn’t considered. The very real possibility that he might ask Sheriff Locke about her made her squirm in the saddle.

About ten minutes later, Davis Lee urged his buckskin mare off the wagon-rutted road and into the prairie’s short grass. Josie followed, reining up a good distance from the road when he did.

She dismounted, noticing a small stone in a cleared patch of ground just on the other side of her horse. A clump of blue wild verbena grew at the stone’s base.

“The McDougals killed our stage driver here,” Davis Lee said when his gaze followed hers to the stone. “You met his wife yesterday. Cora Wilkes?”

“Yes.” Josie stared at the small memorial the woman had erected, pain flooding her at the similar losses she had suffered. She struggled to keep her face blank as rage grew. How many people would McDougal kill before he was stopped?

“That gang also nearly killed my sister-in-law as well as Catherine Donnelly.”

Shocked, Josie spun.

“They nearly ran Susannah to ground with their horses and they kidnapped Catherine.” Davis Lee’s eyes glinted dangerously. “My cousin is a Texas Ranger who’d been chasing the McDougals for almost two years. The two of us, along with my brother, Riley, and my deputy took care of three of them in a shoot-out several months back. Ian managed to escape, but he’s in jail now. He’ll pay for what he’s done.”

Recognizing the same stern determination in Davis Lee’s voice that she often felt, she edged closer to him.

His gaze locked onto hers. “They killed Jericho’s friend, another Ranger and nearly did Jericho in, too. If it hadn’t been for Catherine’s nursing skills, he would’ve died.”

Images of her parents’ and William’s bodies burned in her mind. “You’re lucky they didn’t kill him.”

The keen interest sharpening his blue gaze made her suddenly nervous and she blurted out, “What about your parents? Did the McDougals…?”

She fervently hoped not.

“No, they passed away without any help from those polecats.”

Josie nodded.

“The rest of my family is in Whirlwind. You met my brother yesterday. And my sister-in-law and niece.”

“Lorelai. What an angel,” she said with a soft smile.

“Yes. And Jericho plans to put down roots here with Catherine after their wedding.” Davis Lee walked through the short prairie grass and stopped several yards away. As he lifted, moved and stacked a few flat rocks, the tin cans in his burlap bag clanged. “What about your family? Who did you leave behind in Galveston?”

“No one. Have you always lived here?”

“Except for a couple of years I spent up in the Panhandle.” Curiosity darkened his eyes as he approached with the now-empty bag. “I was the sheriff in Rock River.”

Just because he blabbed on about his past didn’t mean she would. Her hair was pulled back with a ribbon and she brought a thick skein over her shoulder to twist around her finger. “Did you always want to be a sheriff?”

His eyes narrowed at her nervous gesture. “As far back as I can remember.”

“Your brother didn’t?”

He shrugged. “Riley would rather be with the horses. And, as our pa used to say, I’d rather be with the horses’ ass—back ends.”

She smiled, her gaze going to the six tin cans perched on mounds of rocks.

“My grandpa was Whirlwind’s first sheriff. I wanted to continue the tradition.”

“Have the sheriffs of Whirlwind always been Holts?”

“No. For a dozen or so years there was another man here, a good man. When he decided to move farther west, I applied for the job.”

Davis Lee had to have noticed her reluctance to talk about her family and the less-than-graceful way she changed the subject. He said nothing yet Josie felt uneasily as if she were being sized up.

Dropping the empty bag to the ground, Davis Lee slid a revolver from the small of his back. His own remained in the holster strapped low on his hips. Keeping the barrel pointed at the ground, he handed her the gun. “This Colt may be a little heavy for you. It’s a .45 caliber. What do you think?”

She awkwardly balanced the weapon on her hand, surprised at its weight. “I guess I’ll get used to it.”

“If you decide to buy one, I can help you. Smith & Wesson makes a .32 caliber that might fit your hand better. They call it a pocket revolver.”

She nodded, clasping the butt in both hands and raising it to eye level.

Davis Lee reached out and gently pushed the barrel down so that it was directed at the ground. “Don’t point that thing unless you’re ready to use it. That’s rule number one.”

“All right.” She was going to learn to shoot really well. Ian McDougal would never have her at a disadvantage again.

Davis Lee moved up beside her, his shoulder barely brushing hers. “Stand with your feet a comfortable distance apart and aim at one of those cans.”

“Don’t I need to learn how to load it?”

“I want you to get the feel of it first. I don’t fancy losing a toe or something more vital if you squeeze that trigger before either one of us is ready.”

She glanced at him, noting that the level at which she held the weapon was about the same as his private parts. The realization had heat burning her cheeks. For Davis Lee to lose any part of his lean muscled anatomy would be a real shame. He was one handsome man.

Josie forced her attention back to what he was saying.

“Just practice aiming for a bit.”

She lifted the gun, her gaze following the line of the barrel.

He tapped the small piece of raised metal at the barrel’s tip. “You can use the sight if you want, but that one is a little off. I learned how to shoot by aiming the gun as if it were my finger. You try it.”

She did. “That feels more natural than trying to line up the sight. Can you shoot faster using this method, too?”

He flicked his gaze over her. “How fast do you need to shoot?”

“Just asking.” If she were forced to shoot McDougal rather than cut him, she meant to fire as many times as necessary.

The thought of cold-bloodedly killing the outlaw just as he had killed her parents and William bothered her, but she refused to be swayed.

“I’ll show you how to load it now.” Davis Lee reached over and put his hand on top of hers.

She stiffened, her hand twitching beneath his. Her gaze flew to his face and she saw that his attention wasn’t on the gun, but on her breasts.

“Pardon me, Sheriff,” she said archly.

“Davis Lee.” A wicked grin spread slowly across his face as he held up his hands in mock surrender, his gaze dipping again to her chest. “You’re not gonna pull that blade on me, are you?”

“Are you going to give me a reason?” Her heartbeat kicked wildly against her ribs and she found she couldn’t look away from the heat of his blue gaze.

“I plan to tell you what I’m doing every step of the way. Don’t want to spook you and end up begging for mercy.”

She didn’t want to find his grin so charming. Or him either for that matter. She turned her attention back to the weapon. “Bullets?”

“Yessirree.” He slid six from his gun belt and dropped them into her waiting hand.

Again he covered her hand with his, this time pushing against a rounded part of the gun right above the trigger. A cylinder popped out, revealing six empty slots.

“Those chambers are for your bullets.” He plucked one from her hand and slid it in, indicating she should finish.

After she did, he clicked the cylinder back into place. “All right, you’re ready. Be smart. Until you’re going to use it, keep the gun pointed toward the ground or away from people. Now go ahead and see if you can hit one of those cans.”

Knowing that she stood in the same place where the McDougal gang had killed yet another person affected Josie’s concentration, but she tried to focus on the targets in front of her.

“When you’re ready, squeeze the trigger steadily.”

She did and the gun kicked, causing her to flinch. The bullet flew off into who-knew-where. “Oh, fiddle.”

He chuckled. “You’ll hit the target sooner if you keep your eyes open.”

“Oh.” She smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t realize I’d closed them.”

“It’s okay. You have to get the feel of it. That’s why it’s a good idea to practice.”

She nodded, biting her lip as she aimed again at the can. The slight breeze cooled her nape. The flutter of grasshoppers in the calf-high grass and the call of a hawk circling overhead shifted to the distant part of her mind.

She fired all six bullets and hit only air.

“Do it again,” Davis Lee said.

She loaded the gun as he’d shown her then brought it up and sighted the middle can. She didn’t flinch this time. At least she thought she hadn’t.

“You gotta stop flinching.” He pushed his hat back then resettled it on his head. “It’s no wonder you can’t see the target.”

She tried again. She had to learn to do this. Ian McDougal wasn’t getting away from her again. Still, she hit nothing.

Davis Lee patiently watched her reload and fire, over and over. “Don’t quit,” he said when she dropped her arms to rest them.

Her forearms throbbed. Who knew it took such strength to shoot a gun?

“You’ll get it,” he murmured. But half an hour later, he looked at her, looked at the cans sitting exactly where he’d placed them. “Can you see the targets?”

“Yes.” A blush heated her face. Why couldn’t she learn this?

He looked genuinely puzzled. “Are you concentrating?”

“Yes.”

“I guess this is gonna take a while,” he muttered.

She loaded the gun again, anger at herself growing in the place of her earlier determination. Maybe the lanky man beside her was the reason she was doing so poorly.

When he stood so close to her, she could smell the strong fresh scent of lye soap and a faint whiff of leather and horse. She didn’t know why he affected her so, but the man could make a painted lady nervous.

Josie tried to push away the overwhelming sense of his presence and focus. She fired, pausing between each shot to take aim. She hit nothing. “I see why it takes a lot of practice to become good with one of these things.”

“I’m assuming you’ve got better aim with that blade you carry.”

He offered more ammunition and she pushed the bullets into the chamber.

“Those are my last bullets,” he said.

“I need more!”

“I didn’t think it was gonna take this many.” He grinned.

She smiled up at him then looked away when she saw the smoldering interest in his eyes. Was he watching her with such fascination because he suspected her real reason for coming to Whirlwind? Or because he felt the same unsettling awareness she felt?

Gripping the revolver with damp hands, she fired until it was empty. She risked a glance at him, catching a pained look on his face.

“That’s enough for today.” He walked to the rocks and began gathering up the cans. The cans she hadn’t come close to hitting.

She waited in a patch of buffalo grass, unwillingly admiring the fluid way he moved, the broad hands that completely covered the cans. “Are you ready to give up on me?”

She held her breath. If he said yes, what would she do? Her skirt caught on a clump of grass and she tugged it loose.

Davis Lee started back toward her, holding the burlap sack full of cans. “It’s all in the practice—” He froze midstep. “Don’t move.”

“What are you—”

“Don’t. Move.”

She frowned at the hard command in his voice, freezing as he’d ordered.

“Snake. I must’ve stirred him up by moving those rocks.”

“Where?” A sudden crackling noise caused her to involuntarily flinch.

Davis Lee cried out, “No!” The bag fell to the ground, cans clanging together.

She recoiled against a sharp blistering stab above her ankle that felt as if a needle had been jabbed into her flesh. A burning shot up her leg.

He whipped out his own gun and fired twice in rapid succession, aiming between her feet. It happened too fast for Josie to react at all.

She stumbled back a step, hardly able to make herself look down, but she did.

A blackish-brown snake with dark, indistinct-shaped markings protruded from beneath her skirts. Even she could identify the alternating black and white rings on its tail, and the rattle at the end. Nausea rolled over her. “Oh, dear.”

She wobbled.

“Are you bit?” Davis Lee rushed up. When he saw that the snake lay unmoving, he holstered his weapon. “Rattlesnake.”

Josie stared hard at the reptile as if she could will it to remain motionless.

“Josie, are you bit?”

“Yes.” She lifted her gaze to his, feeling detached from her body.

He cursed and scooped her unceremoniously into his arms, carrying her a safe distance away. “I’ve got to get the venom out of your leg.”

He reached their horses and tugged a rolled-up trail blanket from behind his saddle, snapping it open and wrapping it around her before carefully depositing her on the ground. He went to his knees beside her. “Is your vision blurring? Are you nauseous?”

“No.” She dragged in air, trying to calm her racing pulse and recall what her father had told her about treating snakebites. “It may be ten minutes or so before that happens. We need to work fast though.”

She already felt short of breath, but maybe that was because she was close to panic. A rattler. She had been bitten by a rattler. She had never even seen a snake, but thanks to her father she knew how to treat a bite. She had to stay as calm as possible.

Pulling the blanket around her to keep warm and try to combat the shock she knew would come, she reached for the hem of her skirt the same time Davis Lee did.

“Lie down,” he ordered. “You need to be still and quiet.”

She knew he was right but needed to do something herself. Pain seared her lower leg as if scalding water had spilled on her.

“Is it burning?”

“Yes.” Tears stung her eyes.

“It’s starting to swell, too,” he muttered.

“Do you know what to do?”

“Yes.” He lifted her skirts to her knees, pushing up the hem of her drawers.

She saw several cuts and scratches around a single puncture just above the top of her boot, the bloody blister forming at the bite that was a few inches above her ankle.

Her breathing grew labored and the burning in her leg intensified. Forcing away the panic that clawed at her, she focused on remembering her father’s instruction. Her hands moved to her bodice. Any constrictive clothing could increase the swelling and push the flow of venom through her blood faster. She shook so violently she could barely unfasten the buttons, but she managed to spread open the cotton fabric then reach for the fastenings on her corset. Sweat broke across her nape and between her breasts.

Davis Lee stared at her leg, jerking off his hat. “I’m going to have to cut you and suck out that poison.”

“I know,” she mumbled. Biting back a whimper at the voracious fire in her lower leg, she fumbled with the hooks down the front of her corset, hoping this would sufficiently loosen her clothing.

He glanced up then froze. “What in the hell are you doin’?”

“Constricts my breathing.” She struggled with the last closure just below her waist. “Anything too tight will spread the venom faster.”

He frowned, but pulled out his whittling knife with its four-inch blade and reached toward her. The whetted steel sliced easily through the thread securing her corset hook. The loosened garment relaxed, freeing her breasts, her ribs, and she dragged in a deep breath.

He moved back to her leg with the big knife. Josie gasped and lifted herself onto her elbows. “No, not yours. Mine.”

“There’s no time—”

“Use…mine.” Sweat dampened her palms as she reached for her scalpel and handed it to him. “If you butcher me with your knife, you might damage my muscle. Use this.”

He took the instrument, pushing her back down before leaning over her leg and aiming intently for the bite.

“Tie your kerchief around my calf about two inches above the puncture, just so it forms a light band. Keep the incision small and in the bite. That will help minimize the damage.”

“I know how to do this. How do you—never mind.” He applied the bandanna.

She shakily slid two fingers beneath the fabric to make sure it wasn’t too tight then turned her head away as he made small, shallow cuts in her leg. Between the burning agony of the wound and the slices into her flesh, Josie nearly passed out.

She was vaguely cognizant of the fact that a man she barely knew had lifted her skirts.

His lips touched her leg, the heat of his mouth lost under the fever of her skin. She felt the starch seep out of her. Her breathing grew more forced; her pulse raced. The wound throbbed ceaselessly.

“Hang on.” Davis Lee sucked at the wound and spit so often that Josie lost track of time.

She curled her fingers into the blanket trying to keep from passing out. The inside of her mouth tasted as rusty as if she’d chewed old nails for breakfast. Fever built in her leg and moved through her body.

After long minutes, she laid an unsteady hand on Davis Lee’s knee. “You’ve done all you can. It’s probably all right to start for the fort doctor now.”

He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, studying her face as if deciding whether to stop. “I’ll take you to Catherine. She’s closer and will know what to do. She’s a nurse.”

Josie nodded weakly. If they hadn’t acted quickly enough, it wouldn’t matter what a doctor or a nurse did for her.

Davis Lee dropped her scalpel in his saddlebag then moved to her side. “We’ll have to ride double.”

She nodded, so drowsy that she was hardly able to control the movement. Another sign of a poisonous snakebite. She tried to remain calm, knew she had to.

Davis Lee reached to button her bodice but her gaping corset prevented him. He cursed, grabbing hold of the stiff undergarment and dragging it off her body. “You don’t need this damn thing anyway,” he muttered.

Josie didn’t even care that he’d removed it; she only cared about breathing. He clumsily fastened several buttons, half of them in the wrong loop, but her bodice was mostly closed. She found his attempt endearing.

He stood, settling his hat on his head as he stuffed her corset into his saddlebag. “I’m going to lift you into the saddle then climb on behind.”

“I can stand.” Her tongue tingled.

“That’s a damn fool idea.”

“The important thing…is to keep the bite below my heart.”

“You’re fadin’ fast. We’re doin’ this my way.” He knelt and gathered her, blanket and all, in his arms, then gently sat her in the saddle.

Wobbly, she curled her fingers into the sleeves of his shirt. He gently pried them off and folded them around the saddle horn.

“Hang on,” he said.

“All right.”

He slowly released her then climbed up behind her, settling her in the cradle of his thighs. Her vision blurred as the drowsiness leeched her energy. Her head fell against his chest.

“I’ve got you. Don’t worry about trying to hold on.”

She snuggled one shoulder under his arm, her fingers closing weakly on the pommel.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

He turned his horse, moved toward hers to pick up the reins and they started for town.

“What about your cans?” she asked sleepily.

He looked down at her, sounding amused. “I can get more.”

Agony seared her leg and she felt herself waning, the green grass blurring as they moved. Davis Lee’s strong arm circled her waist and she leaned into him. He was hot. And hard.

The pain jumbled the thoughts in her head. Memories of her parents’ lifeless bodies. Of the first time William had kissed her. Davis Lee’s eyes glittering with suspicion.

With her cheek cradled against his broad chest, she felt safe. And torn. If she survived this, it would be because of him. She didn’t want to owe him. It would only complicate matters once she killed his prisoner.