Read Online Crossings by Stef Ann Holm - Free Book Online Page B

knee-high boots, so they had to go first.
    The muddy heel was slippery, making removal difficult. Helena had to give it a reluctant pull that dislodged the knife. The sheathed blade fell out of his boot as Carrigan’s low groan tormented her. She hated to cause him more pain and knew the worst was yet to come. Glancing at his face, she took some relief in the fact that his eyes were still closed.
    After shedding both boots and his damp stockings, she wiped her dirty hands on her skirt. “Ignacia?”
    â€œMiss Lena?”
    â€œHeat some water and bring me a large basin.” Helena’s voice lowered along with her gaze. “With plenty of towels. And while you’re downstairs, tell Emilie to tear a worn-out bedsheet into strips.”
    Light footfalls signaled the cook’s departure.
    Carrigan wore two belts—one threaded through the loops of his waistband, and one slung low on his hips. Helena carefully withdrew the weighty Walker Colt from its holster, keeping the end of the barrel trained on the floor as she walked to the bureau across from the bed and set the gun on top beside his knife. Returning to Carrigan, she unbuckled both belts, easing the length of the empty holster out from behind his hips. She bit her lip, her hand falling to his navel. He felt hot against her knuckles as they grazed his skin while she undid the placket of his pants. Darkwhorls of hair filled the widening wedge, evidence he wore no underdrawers. She wasn’t going to be a prude about things. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen this part of the male anatomy before. And Carrigan was her husband—even if in name only. But she felt excessively aware of being observed by Eliazer while she came to the last few buttons that stretched over Carrigan’s sex.
    Brushing aside her modesty, Helena turned to the stock tender. “Come here and try and lift his hips a little while I pull off his pants.”
    Eliazer nodded and they were able to remove Carrigan’s pants as swiftly as possible. She tried not to look at what was cradled between his legs. Her eyes were drawn for several seconds before she arched her gaze to his face. He seemed so vulnerable lying there, unlike the virile man who’d sat by a campfire cooking his supper. She got a blanket from the trunk at the end of the bed. Draping the homespun over his middle, she tucked the ends around his legs.
    â€œNow we have to do his coat,” she said, wishing there were a simple way.
    Eliazer absently scratched his temple. “I’ll roll him on his side, and you take out the arm nearest his wound so we don’t have to make him lie on it.”
    â€œAll right.”
    With a subtle rotation of Carrigan’s upper body, Eliazer held him while Helena gently freed his arm. Carrigan swore incoherently, his jaw clenched and nostrils flared. For a moment he opened his eyes, and she froze. But he looked right through her. His green irises were all but obscured behind the black moons of his dilated pupils.
    â€œI don’t mean to hurt you,” she murmured apologetically, but he was unconscious again. While Eliazer still held Carrigan, she removed his shirt on that side as well. After that, taking his left arm out of his other coat and shirtsleeve was relatively easy.
    Eliazer perused the wound, then shifted Carriganslightly so he could see his spinal area. “Ah, it’s good. Come, Miss Lena. I’ll show you.”
    Helena drew up to Eliazer’s side. A puddle of blood crept from the exit wound in Carrigan’s back, and Helena pressed a hand to her throat.
    â€œIt looks like,” Eliazer commented attentively, “the hole sealed itself when the bullet exited. The cartridge entered him just below the nipple line. Had the bullet been larger and not ricocheted off his rib and gone down and out, there would be a lot more blood. Instead, it seems his vital organs have not been hit.” Eliazer ran his hand lightly