Coulter, Jake Coulter, and what is this stuff? It smells like horse dung.”
“Mouse.”
“Mouse what?”
“It’s mouse dung,” Isabel said matter-of-factly. “Mixed with butter, horsetail and a little turpentine. It’s quite useful.”
Jake stared at her, wondering if she meant it or if she were trying to bait him into asking a dumb question. “You’re not serious.”
“Of course I am. I use it often.”
“To attract flies? Do you have a jar of leeches around somewhere as well? No—don’t answer that. Whatever this is, I sure as hell don’t want it smeared on me. Look, I’ve no doubt you mean well, you did a fair job cutting that bullet out—”
“Such generous praise. And I’m overwhelmed by your gratitude.”
“—but my leg probably needs stitches and definitely a good dose of sulfur powder and someone who knows how to administer both without a shaking hand.”
“Ah, I see. And did you gain this knowledge from some drunken fool who’s only claim to being a doctor is that he can cut off limbs and pour whiskey faster than the man before him?”
“And where did you get yours? From a vision after chewing peyote?”
“Well, if I did, it’s too late for you now. You’ve drunk my potion. Perhaps you’re already under my spell.”
The look she gave him, a little mysterious smile, a flash of laughter, roused in Jake a sudden, sharp awareness of her nearness. He could smell the wildflower scent of her, feel her warmth almost as a touch. It had been a long time since he’d let a woman get close to him.
This woman…He shook his head, trying to clear it.
“Am I?” he said, his voice rough-edged.
Piercing gray eyes locked with hers and for a moment, Isabel could think of nothing to say in reply.
She realized she hadn’t taken time to study him fully yesterday. There was certainly an almost frightening strength in him, and an unflinching directness in his eyes. But there were also lines in his face left by an experience of bitterness or suffering, she didn’t know which. It left her intrigued, wondering exactly what he was and why he was here. It also left her disconcerted, questioning her reaction to him.
Feeling shaken, Isabel took her jar of salve from him and jerked the quilt back up over his leg. “Since you don’t want my help, I’ll go.”
She started to gather up her basket and Jake watched her hands move over the jar and cloths, efficient, graceful. She riled him to the point of fury, but he liked looking at her, though he couldn’t have said why. He preferred his women lush and pliant, but with her delicate fairy face and her quick tongue she was neither. She didn’t even go out of her way to make herself particularly attractive the way most women did.
Her hair hung in a loose braid down her back and, as far as he could tell, she wore nothing but a thin cotton dress that looked as if the sun had scorched all the color out of it. There was nothing deliberately provocative about her. She seemed indifferent to the way she moved, except when she plied her dubious trade and then all the sensuality was in her hands, the intimacy in her touch.
“You aren’t coming back, are you?” he asked suddenly, surprising them both.
“I’m not a glutton for punishment. If you’re bored, I’m sure Chessie or Anita can find some way to amuse you.”
“Maybe I should have been more careful. I’ll be wondering now what spell you have cast over me.”
“I wouldn’t let it trouble you. I’m not adept enough to charm serpents into your room. Yet.”
She walked to the door and turned to give him a tight smile. “Goodbye, Mr. Coulter. I promise you, the only sorcery you’ll find here will come from the hands of one of Elish’s girls.”
Jake stared after her, torn between following her just to take away her advantage of getting the last word or trying to forget she ever lived to annoy him. Before he could decide, Elish Dodd appeared in the doorway, stopping Isabel from leaving.
“If you’re lookin’ for magic, you’re gonna have to find it somewhere else,” he said, stepping past Isabel to face Jake. “I just got word a dozen or more men finishin’ a cattle drive will be ridin’ in tonight lookin’ for whiskey and girls and I’m gonna need all the rooms I have. Since you ain’t in no condition to be takin’ advantage of the amenities here, you might want to consider a room in the nearest thing we got here to a hospital.”
“And where might that be?” Jake asked, already suspecting he knew the answer and not wanting to hear it.
“Why, in Mrs. Bradshaw’s house,” Elish said, flashing a grin between Jake and Isabel. “You know, the woman you’ve managed to rile enough for her to turn a knife on you. I’m sure she’ll take you in, she has this fondness for strays no matter how ornery they are.” Before he left, Elish winked at Isabel then turned to Jake. “But if I was you, friend, I’d sleep with one eye open ’til you get back on her good side.”
Chapter Three
“I’ll make room for you, cowboy.”
The purr of Anita Devine’s voice broke the awkward silence between Isabel and Jake. Caught in the moment of suspended tension, Isabel jumped at the sound, jerking around toward the doorway.
Anita posed there, her dark eyes roving over Jake with slow deliberation. Raven tresses spilled over her bare shoulders, a few spiral curls catching in the lace at her low-cut bodice. As her gaze slid over Jake’s body, a satisfied smile curved the edges of her painted mouth.
She sauntered into the room, petticoats swishing at her ankles, brushing past Isabel as though she didn’t exist, heading straight to the edge of the bed. Bending down far enough for her ample bosom to spill over the black lace at the scooped neckline of her dress, she smoothed a heavy wave from Jake’s brow.
“Elish told me about your dilemma, Mr. Coulter. And I’ve come to offer a solution. I’d be quite happy to make room so you can stay with me while you recover.”
Isabel stood to the side, caught off guard by Anita’s brazen proposition, though she didn’t know why she should be. Anita’s reputation was well-known all over the high country towns surrounding Whispering Creek. Women around town called her the Black Widow because she had a way of seducing a handsome man and using him up, leaving him with little more than his boots when she sent him walking.
Isabel tried to judge Jake’s response, but his expression gave nothing away. Only his eyes showed any reaction and the coldness there almost forced her back a step.
“What a generous offer,” he drawled, raking Anita with a dismissing glance that was far from flattering.
Anita’s eyes narrowed, but her smile stayed in place. “I’m part owner in this place, so my offer is sincere, I assure you.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is.” Jake shifted and looked directly
