She edged Duke to the sofa and eased him down. She stood over him, studying him. “About the best I can say for you at the moment is you’re alive.”
He wiped his eyes. “That’s not such a good feeling right now.”
“You’re not gonna let him die, are ya?” Billy wrung his hands.
Duke cracked open one eye. “Are ya?”
Why did his question bring such a rush of emotions? Regret, determination and wild wishes all tangled together.
“Of course not. I need to get some water.” She rushed from the room, pressing her cold hands to her hot cheeks. What was the matter with her? One glance around the room answered her question. She didn’t belong here and, should Duke be in his right mind, he’d be the first to tell her so.
And yet...
Didn’t it feel good to have him need her?
She shoved the thought away and concentrated on the task before her, dipping hot water from the reservoir on the stove, filling a bowl, opening drawers until she found towels. She searched through them, looking for a ragged one that would serve to clean up Duke’s blood. All she found was one towel that had a slight stain. She took it and a couple of others with her back to the other room.
She pulled a stool up to the sofa and carefully began to wash away the blood on Duke’s face. The wound continued to bleed. With barely a hesitation that she was about to ruin a beautiful tea towel, she pressed it to the wound and held it in place while she gently washed his face.
Once the blood was cleaned from his eyelids, he opened his eyes. Aware that his gaze locked on to her face, Rose avoided meeting his eyes. She dragged the towel over the blond whiskers along his jaw to his hairline. She couldn’t help noting how golden his hair was. Slowly she cleaned toward the wound and lifted the cloth. The bleeding had slowed enough she could see that it was deep, but thanks to the amount of blood he’d shed, it was clean.
“Billy, will you please get that sack of things Ma sent with me?”
He dashed away to do so.
Duke continued to stare at Rose and she tried to ignore him, keeping her eyes glued to the wound as if by doing so she might meld the edges together.
His hand wrapped around her wrist.
She jerked her attention to the hand, then slowly brought her gaze to his. Not for a moment did she doubt he was clear in his mind. So much so he threatened to mentally overwhelm her. She couldn’t pull away from his gaze, couldn’t talk reason to herself.
He smiled somewhat crookedly as if his mouth hurt. “I’m glad you’re here.” His hand fell to his chest and his eyes closed.
“Duke, wake up. Don’t you dare fall asleep.” Ma had taught her well. If he slept, he could easily slip into unconsciousness and from there to—
He was not going to Heaven today. Not if she had anything to say about it.
* * *
Cool fingers brushed his cheek. The touch pushed back the thick fog that threatened to enclose him.
“Duke, wake up. Stay awake.”
The voice seemed concerned. He tried to think about how to reassure the person. Who was it? Rose Bell. He smiled and fought his way to the surface.
“What are you doing here?” His tongue staggered under the weight of the words.
“Open your eyes.”
“Okay.” Easier said than done.
“Duke, open them.”
She sounded as though she cared. He must be dreaming. “I am.”
She chuckled. The sound tumbled through his brain. More evidence this was only a dream. “And yet they are still closed. Come on, I need to see your eyes.”
“They’re blue.” His voice sounded thick even to his own befuddled brain.
She chuckled again.
He had to see if this was a dream or if she was actually there, so he raised his eyebrows in an attempt to force his eyelids up. The simple movement hurt. “Ow.” His eyes opened and he stared into a beautiful, concerned face. “Hi.”
Her smile fled. Or had he only dreamed it in the first place?
“You’ve got a nasty gash on your forehead.”
“I can feel it clear to my toes.” He watched emotions flit across her face as she leaned closer to look at his head. First, concern and then worry. Worry? Rose Bell worried about Duke Caldwell? It didn’t seem possible. Her gaze returned to his and he caught a flash of something he almost believed to be tenderness. For him? Hardly. The Bells were known for helping the sick and injured. That’s all it was.
A tiny grin tugged at her lips and amusement filled her eyes. “Your handsome face will be forever marred.”
“I can live with that.”
“You’re fortunate to be alive.” Her eyes snapped with anger. “Why are you riding a wild horse around the country? Don’t you know you might have been killed?”
He was caught in the green flare from her eyes. “Seems you should be happy about that. You haven’t exactly thrown out the welcome mat to me.”
Her expression slowly hardened, grew impassive.
He missed being able to read her emotions.
She sat back and pulled her hands to her lap. “That doesn’t mean I want to see you dead.”
“Good to know.” His eyelids drifted closed.
“Duke, don’t you dare go to sleep.”
He answered without opening his eyes. “Doesn’t seem like I’m going to get a chance with you constantly calling my name.”
He heard footsteps and then a worried voice. “Here it is. Is he alive?”
Duke opened his eyes to see Billy hand Rose a sack. “I’m okay, Billy. Don’t you worry. It will take more than a skittish horse to kill me.”
Rose pursed her lips. Her disapproval of his horse was evident.
Billy patted Duke’s arm. “I prayed and prayed and prayed ever since you got hurt. God helped me.”
Duke’s mind cleared enough for him to remember trying to find his way home. “How did I get here? And what are you doing here?” he asked Rose.
“Billy came to the farm to get my help.”
It took a moment to digest this information. “You came?”
She pulled back. “I’d never refuse to help anyone in trouble.”
He held her gaze.
