and seeing all this," she muttered, piling the blood-stained sheets and napkins and used bandages onto the serving cart. "It'll upset him no end." She seemed unaware that she was chattering like a chipmunk. "I'll just put these in a tub on the mud porch to soak," she added, scrubbing blood from the table top with one of the clean rags. "Tomorrow, once Matt's had a good night's sleep, I'll wash 'em up good and proper, and hang them on the line to dry. The sun will bleach some of the stains out, " she said, on her hands and knees now, wiping up the blood that had dripped from the table onto the wide-planked pine boards. She didn't hear the tremor in her voice. Didn't realize that her tears had mingled with Matt's blood on the floor.
When he couldn't stand to watch her suffering a moment longer, Chance grabbed her by the shoulders and brought her to her feet.
Immediately, she tried to drop back to her knees and resume scrubbing, but he held firm. "Bess," he said softly, "stop it. Stop your cryin' now."
She looked around the room helplessly. "But he's so young, Chance . And Doc said...." She bit her lip, then turned away , crossed both arms over her chest and cupped her elbows. "What if he...what if he never walks again?" She hesitated. Shook her head. "What if...."
He'd warned himself on his first day at Foggy Bottom to be careful , because he knew the danger of being drawn into relationships he couldn't afford to maintain . T he proof of his rightness stood trembling in his arms now.
He'd never seen fear in her big dark eyes before. Had never seen that full lower lip quiver as she struggled to hold back her tears. She'd always been in complete control. Seeing her like this, looking so small and vulnerable, moved him like few things ever had.
He'd have shifted heaven and earth at that moment to give her the solace she sought , to find the words to assure her that her little brother would be all right. But Chance had no such power, and he knew it. Why, he didn't even have the power to prove he hadn't killed a man!
Still, he didn't want her to know how weak and inept he was. So he held her tight and stroked her slender back and whispered soft into her ear. "He'll be fine," was all he could think to say. "He'll be just fine."
"If he survives, he could have a limp for the rest of his life!"
Laying a hand against her cheek, he said, "I'd take on his limp, just to have a woman like you caring for me the way you care for that boy." He felt almost as helpless and useless as he had on the day of the fire.... In response to her wet-eyed silence, he added, "Doc said he'd likely be all right, didn't he?"
She nodded against his chest.
"And you trust Doc, don't you?"
Again she nodded, a little harder this time.
Chance could feel her warm tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt. He held her at arm's length , and, for a moment, just looked at her. Her long, dark lashes clumped with glistening tears. With the pad of his thumb, he tenderly brushed the dampness away. He hated to see her this way, and searched his mind for a sentence, a phrase, a word, even, that would get her mind off Matt, if only for a moment. "I don't suppose there's a slice of your famous cherry pie in the kitchen...."
She blinked, and the first hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I'm afraid you're too late for that." Still standing in the circle of his embrace, she brightened a little more, and added, "There's peach cobbler, though...."
He didn't know what possessed him to do it, but without a second thought, Chance pressed a k iss against her lips.
And much to his delight, Bess returned it.
Chapter Five
Almost from the moment he brought Matt home after the accident, Chance spent a lot more time in the house than the rest of the hired hands. Though all of the men took evening meals at the Beckleys' dining room table and felt welcome in the parlor or lounging in the comfortable rockers on the front porch, none seemed so much a part
When he couldn't stand to watch her suffering a moment longer, Chance grabbed her by the shoulders and brought her to her feet.
Immediately, she tried to drop back to her knees and resume scrubbing, but he held firm. "Bess," he said softly, "stop it. Stop your cryin' now."
She looked around the room helplessly. "But he's so young, Chance . And Doc said...." She bit her lip, then turned away , crossed both arms over her chest and cupped her elbows. "What if he...what if he never walks again?" She hesitated. Shook her head. "What if...."
He'd warned himself on his first day at Foggy Bottom to be careful , because he knew the danger of being drawn into relationships he couldn't afford to maintain . T he proof of his rightness stood trembling in his arms now.
He'd never seen fear in her big dark eyes before. Had never seen that full lower lip quiver as she struggled to hold back her tears. She'd always been in complete control. Seeing her like this, looking so small and vulnerable, moved him like few things ever had.
He'd have shifted heaven and earth at that moment to give her the solace she sought , to find the words to assure her that her little brother would be all right. But Chance had no such power, and he knew it. Why, he didn't even have the power to prove he hadn't killed a man!
Still, he didn't want her to know how weak and inept he was. So he held her tight and stroked her slender back and whispered soft into her ear. "He'll be fine," was all he could think to say. "He'll be just fine."
"If he survives, he could have a limp for the rest of his life!"
Laying a hand against her cheek, he said, "I'd take on his limp, just to have a woman like you caring for me the way you care for that boy." He felt almost as helpless and useless as he had on the day of the fire.... In response to her wet-eyed silence, he added, "Doc said he'd likely be all right, didn't he?"
She nodded against his chest.
"And you trust Doc, don't you?"
Again she nodded, a little harder this time.
Chance could feel her warm tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt. He held her at arm's length , and, for a moment, just looked at her. Her long, dark lashes clumped with glistening tears. With the pad of his thumb, he tenderly brushed the dampness away. He hated to see her this way, and searched his mind for a sentence, a phrase, a word, even, that would get her mind off Matt, if only for a moment. "I don't suppose there's a slice of your famous cherry pie in the kitchen...."
She blinked, and the first hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I'm afraid you're too late for that." Still standing in the circle of his embrace, she brightened a little more, and added, "There's peach cobbler, though...."
He didn't know what possessed him to do it, but without a second thought, Chance pressed a k iss against her lips.
And much to his delight, Bess returned it.
Chapter Five
Almost from the moment he brought Matt home after the accident, Chance spent a lot more time in the house than the rest of the hired hands. Though all of the men took evening meals at the Beckleys' dining room table and felt welcome in the parlor or lounging in the comfortable rockers on the front porch, none seemed so much a part
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