night.”
“Mrs. Bullard, I need you to lie down.” Dare sounded surprisingly calm for a man doctoring a screaming woman. It was demoralizing to think Dare had gotten used to it—most likely through hours of practice.
“Doc, you’re my only hope. Simon Bullard, you get that bottle of whiskey over here and give me a drink. I need something to cut the pain.”
“You probably shouldn’t drink when you’re expecting a baby, Mrs. Bullard. At least not often and not to excess.”
Since Luke figured no one should drink often and to excess, it didn’t mean Dare had any idea what he was talking about. Luke figured as soon as he got a chance, he’d advise Dare to take up ranching.
“You’re right—it might be a while before we get out of here,” Rosie whispered back. “If we’re real careful, I think there’s room to sit.” Her hands rested on his forearms, and her quiet words were accompanied by the sweet warmth of her breath.
“Be mindful of the shelves.” Luke had a lot of nerve giving advice, considering he was the only one who’d bumped into anything so far.
“You can’t be in labor yet.” Dare was using a comforting doctoring voice, only at a pretty high volume. Ruthy and Luke were being quiet, so Luke decided this was abouttrying to penetrate Lana Bullard’s panic. “It’s too early. But there can be some early pangs and those are real hard on a woman.”
Even through a thick wooden door, Luke could tell Dare was being sarcastic.
Luke leaned real close to keep quiet, but also because he found he liked being close to Rosie. “If we’re going to sit, it’d better be now. She’s bound to tire out and quiet down. You go first. Let me hold your hands to keep you steady.”
“I should have never married you, Simon Bullard. What was I thinking?”
“Well, Lana, honey, you was prob’ly thinkin’ you was gettin’ a mite old and fat to be workin’ abovestairs at a run-down saloon, earnin’ a livin’ on your back.”
A shout of pain cut off Simon’s idiot slice of truth.
“Lana, I told you to relax.” Dare was a brave man and no one could deny it. Luke would’ve made a poor doctor, because along about now he’d’ve pitched both of these fools out on the board-walk.
“Doctor, I’d be lost without you.” Lana sounded almost worshipful, as if her very life hung on Dare’s word.
“And, Simon, I’ve suggested before that you need to put Lana’s past away and not mention it again .” Dare was shouting toward the end of that.
“That’s right.” Lana talked over the top of Dare. “You stop throwing my past up at me. Now give me that whiskey.”
“Lana, I told you not to be drinking—”
Clasping her hands, Luke helped Rosie sit without worrying too much about noise. She had tiny hands, but rough, with thick calluses. Luke’s ma and sister were women who weren’t afraid of hard work. And they were about the only women Luke had ever known, and his sister had beenyoung still when Luke had left home. As a child, Luke had lived far from women—aside from his family. There was Gil’s ma; she’d been a nice lady, but he’d mainly stayed outside playing and didn’t really know her. And there were precious few women in a war. Then he’d been to the mountains trapping and spent some time with Callie in Colorado. The only females there were either married or children. But touching Rosie’s hands and easing her to the floor, feeling her trust his strength as she lowered herself . . . well, it felt right. Familiar, when it couldn’t be. Nice. Real nice.
As soon as he was sure she had settled, he inched into a crouch beside her. Carefully, slowly, he swept his hands around, finding a spot where he could ease himself onto the floor. He found a sturdy shelf behind him to lean against. For a second, Luke wondered if maybe he could get a few minutes’ sleep.
“If I die having this baby, I swear my last act on earth will be dragging you down to Hades with me, Simon.” Lana
“Mrs. Bullard, I need you to lie down.” Dare sounded surprisingly calm for a man doctoring a screaming woman. It was demoralizing to think Dare had gotten used to it—most likely through hours of practice.
“Doc, you’re my only hope. Simon Bullard, you get that bottle of whiskey over here and give me a drink. I need something to cut the pain.”
“You probably shouldn’t drink when you’re expecting a baby, Mrs. Bullard. At least not often and not to excess.”
Since Luke figured no one should drink often and to excess, it didn’t mean Dare had any idea what he was talking about. Luke figured as soon as he got a chance, he’d advise Dare to take up ranching.
“You’re right—it might be a while before we get out of here,” Rosie whispered back. “If we’re real careful, I think there’s room to sit.” Her hands rested on his forearms, and her quiet words were accompanied by the sweet warmth of her breath.
“Be mindful of the shelves.” Luke had a lot of nerve giving advice, considering he was the only one who’d bumped into anything so far.
“You can’t be in labor yet.” Dare was using a comforting doctoring voice, only at a pretty high volume. Ruthy and Luke were being quiet, so Luke decided this was abouttrying to penetrate Lana Bullard’s panic. “It’s too early. But there can be some early pangs and those are real hard on a woman.”
Even through a thick wooden door, Luke could tell Dare was being sarcastic.
Luke leaned real close to keep quiet, but also because he found he liked being close to Rosie. “If we’re going to sit, it’d better be now. She’s bound to tire out and quiet down. You go first. Let me hold your hands to keep you steady.”
“I should have never married you, Simon Bullard. What was I thinking?”
“Well, Lana, honey, you was prob’ly thinkin’ you was gettin’ a mite old and fat to be workin’ abovestairs at a run-down saloon, earnin’ a livin’ on your back.”
A shout of pain cut off Simon’s idiot slice of truth.
“Lana, I told you to relax.” Dare was a brave man and no one could deny it. Luke would’ve made a poor doctor, because along about now he’d’ve pitched both of these fools out on the board-walk.
“Doctor, I’d be lost without you.” Lana sounded almost worshipful, as if her very life hung on Dare’s word.
“And, Simon, I’ve suggested before that you need to put Lana’s past away and not mention it again .” Dare was shouting toward the end of that.
“That’s right.” Lana talked over the top of Dare. “You stop throwing my past up at me. Now give me that whiskey.”
“Lana, I told you not to be drinking—”
Clasping her hands, Luke helped Rosie sit without worrying too much about noise. She had tiny hands, but rough, with thick calluses. Luke’s ma and sister were women who weren’t afraid of hard work. And they were about the only women Luke had ever known, and his sister had beenyoung still when Luke had left home. As a child, Luke had lived far from women—aside from his family. There was Gil’s ma; she’d been a nice lady, but he’d mainly stayed outside playing and didn’t really know her. And there were precious few women in a war. Then he’d been to the mountains trapping and spent some time with Callie in Colorado. The only females there were either married or children. But touching Rosie’s hands and easing her to the floor, feeling her trust his strength as she lowered herself . . . well, it felt right. Familiar, when it couldn’t be. Nice. Real nice.
As soon as he was sure she had settled, he inched into a crouch beside her. Carefully, slowly, he swept his hands around, finding a spot where he could ease himself onto the floor. He found a sturdy shelf behind him to lean against. For a second, Luke wondered if maybe he could get a few minutes’ sleep.
“If I die having this baby, I swear my last act on earth will be dragging you down to Hades with me, Simon.” Lana
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