that verged on hero worship. That shook him much more than the accident with the wagon had. He hadn’t been on the receiving end of such a look since he’d lost his sister nearly a decade ago, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. But hero worship was something he didn’t want.
Or deserve.
He’d just been at the right place at the right time—nothing more. He’d seen Beans bark at the cat and send it running across the road. He’d then seen the child follow the feline. It had been pure instinct to go after her—nothing heroic about it.
“I’ll be okay,” he said brusquely, waving the woman away with his right hand. “You should see to your daughter.”
The woman ignored his suggestion and began rolling up her sleeves. “Joy is fine, thanks to you. And that gash on your arm definitely needs some attention.”
Without waiting for a response from him, she glanced up at the crowd milling around them. “Someone get me a pail of water to clean this up. And I’ll need some clean rags, as well.”
To his surprise, several individuals from the crowd nodded and rushed off to do her bidding. Then she turned to Sheriff Gleason. “Do you have a pocketknife I can borrow?”
The lawman never hesitated. He pulled out his knife, opened it for her and handed it over.
Nate raised a hand. “Now, hold on.” These folks might trust the woman, but he wasn’t ready to let her cut on him. “What do you intend to do with that thing?”
Her brow went up and there was an amused twist to her lips. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning to operate on you. Yet.” He was only partly reassured by her dry tone.
She took the knife and, with a quick movement, sliced his already ripped shirt all the way to the cuff.
He tried one more time to wrest control from the stubborn woman. “See, it’s just a cut. I’ll be okay. If it makes you feel better I’ll go see the doctor.” He tried to push himself up, but a sharp pain shot through his left ankle and he winced involuntarily.
“You are not okay.” She put a firm hand on his right shoulder. “Don’t move until I have a look at you.” Her expression softened slightly. “Don’t worry, I do have some medical training.”
That would explain her air of authority. But was she serious? “You’re a doctor?”
“Not exactly. But the town’s doctor is my uncle and my late husband was a physician, as well. So you see, I’ve worked with doctors most of my life. I know what to do.”
The “not exactly doctor” turned to the dressmaker, who still held the little girl’s hand. “Would you mind taking Joy back to your shop until I’ve finished here?”
“Of course.” Miss Andrews smiled down at the little girl. “Come on, sweetie, let’s get you and Lulu cleaned up and then we’ll see if we can find a cookie to snack on.”
The woman’s gaze lingered on her daughter as the two walked away. But a moment later a young man set the requested pail of water at her feet and she turned to smile up at him. “Thank you, Calvin. Now would you mind running over to the clinic and letting my uncle know he’ll have a patient shortly?”
“Yes, ma’am.” And with that the young man was off again.
Finally she turned back to him. “Since I’m about to tend to your injuries,” she said with a caretaker’s smile, “I should probably introduce myself. I’m Mrs. Verity Leggett.”
Nate gave a short nod. “Mrs. Leggett. I’m Nate Cooper.”
“Now that we’ve gotten the pleasantries out of the way, let’s get this arm cleaned up, shall we, so we can see what we’re dealing with?”
He still wasn’t comfortable with the idea of being examined by a female doctor, no matter how pretty or confident she was. It seemed vaguely ungentlemanly to put her through such unpleasantness. “There’s no need to trouble yourself, Mrs. Leggett. I can get myself over to the doctor—”
She didn’t let him finish. “I agree that my uncle should see you. And he will—just as soon as I make sure we have this cleaned up and the bleeding has stopped.”
She dipped a cloth in the water and then gently dabbed at the gash, cleaning away the dirt and blood with her right hand while she supported his arm with her left. Her touch was gentle but sure, and not at all unpleasant.
As Mrs. Leggett bent over him, he could smell the faint scent of honeysuckle on her, could see the glint of sunlight tease out touches of auburn in her mahogany hair. The feel of her hand supporting his arm as she gently cleaned the cut was warm and strong in a uniquely feminine kind of way.
As she bent closer to study her progress, that stray image of her kissing her daughter’s injury popped up in his mind again. Would she—
He abruptly pulled his thoughts back from that dangerous cliff. His reaction to her was a testament to how long it had been since he’d felt the gentle ministrations of a woman, nothing more. And he was certain she wouldn’t welcome any indications that he felt anything other than gratitude.
When Mrs. Leggett had the cut cleaned to her satisfaction, she leaned back and studied it. “You’re definitely going to need stitches, but I don’t believe you’ve cut anything vital.” She looked up then and met his gaze with a reassuring smile. “The bleeding has slowed, but I’m going to wrap it tight to make certain it doesn’t start flowing again before we get you to the clinic.”
When she had put action to words, she met his gaze again. “Now, your left leg seemed to be giving you problems when you tried to get up. Where does it hurt?”
So she’d picked up on that. “It’s my ankle, but I’m sure it’ll be fine in just a bit.”
She scooted over and took his booted foot in her hands, again disregarding the niceties of social behavior. Her gentle probing had him gritting his teeth, but he did his best to not show any outward signs of pain.
She gently set the foot back down. “It’s definitely swollen. I think we’ll leave the boot on until Uncle Grover is ready to examine it. But you shouldn’t be walking on it for now.” Then she met his eyes. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
His head pounded, his shoulder and ankle throbbed and he was starting to feel light-headed. Nothing a little rest wouldn’t cure. “No.”
Her raised eyebrow told him she wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t press. Instead she gave his good arm a light pat. “Don’t worry, we’re going to take very good care of you.”
Despite his reservations, he had to admit he liked the sound of that.
Mrs. Leggett made as if to stand and the sheriff was at her elbow, lending her a hand.
She smiled up at the lawman. “Thank you, Sheriff. Would you find some men to help carry Mr. Cooper over to the clinic? I’ll go on ahead to help my uncle get things ready.”
The sheriff tipped his hat. “Yes, ma’am.”
Carry him? “That won’t be necessary. I just need a little help getting up.”
She
