Tobias. Don’t speak such foolishness.”
“I ain’t gonna lie. My face feels like raw meat.”
“You aren’t at your best right now, of course, but that doesn’t change what’s beneath the bruises and bandages.” She continued her examination. He flinched a few times when she probed a particularly tender spot but he didn’t complain.
“Tobias, I need to ask you something.”
His stomach did a funny flip and he wished he had a drink. Or two.
“Tobias?”
“What?”
She hesitated long enough he opened his eye to peer at her. “Please don’t take offense, but you reek of horse, sweat and whiskey. Would you let me bathe you and wash your clothes?”
He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He smelled so bad she wanted to strip him and scrub the stench off him. Then again he would be naked and in Rebecca’s hands.
Although he was in pain from his head to his toes, the idea of this woman bathing him made everything harden. Everything. She would get an eyeful if she decided to pull the blanket back. He had no control over his body whenever he was around her.
“Am I making your eyes water?”
She managed a tired smile. “Perhaps. But I’ve discovered a clean patient is healthier. You have, ah, accumulated grime on you.”
Now his brief arousal had turned to shame. He did have grime on him. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d bathed. And of course he smelled like whiskey. By now his blood had been replaced with the damn stuff.
“I guess I need to get clean.” He forced the words out, knowing it was the right thing to do. But damn he wanted to be anywhere but in her care, hurting and unable to walk. It was his worst nightmare.
“I’ll go get some hot water and fresh towels.” Rebecca rose and grimaced, pressing her hand into her lower bag. Guilt sunk its teeth into him. She should be resting in the very cot he laid in. Instead, she had two people to nurse to health.
Tobias could hardly turn his head without wanting to scream, but he did it anyway. Will lay still as death across the room from him, his head swathed in bandages. Tobias stared at his brother, willing him to wake, to smile and be alive. Yet he didn’t move.
Something niggled at the back of his mind. A memory that wanted to make itself heard. He squeezed his eye shut and damned himself for being a drunk. The damn booze had pickled his brain.
Rebecca returned with a pail of water in one hand and an empty one in the other. She set them down beside the bed.
“Mr. Donovan’s housekeeper is heating the water for us. There is a hip bath we can use to mix the hot and cold. I’m going to clean up Will too. Both of you need a good wash.” She was brisk in her movements and her tone. “I’ll return shortly.”
He watched her leave again and wished like hell he could move off the damn bed. She was too independent, too in control. He supposed it was necessary for someone who doctored people. She couldn’t run around with her hands in the air panicking.
Soon Rebecca returned this time with a wooden hip bath and another woman on her heels. “This is Mary.”
The older woman nodded at him, but she didn’t meet his eyes. The gray-haired housekeeper knew his brothers, presumably, but wanted nothing to do with him. After the fight in the barn, which he was determined to remember, the people who worked at the ranch probably thought him a drunken madman. Not that he blamed them. It’s what he was.
Mary tipped the bucket of hot water into the hip bath holding the handle with a rag. She spoke to Rebecca. “I’ll get another bucket of cold for ya, Doc.”
Rebecca murmured a thank you and poured cold water into the hot, then reached in and stirred the mixture. Wisps of steam rose, curling around her face, kinking the curls that had escaped her braid even further. They bounced as she moved, making him want to wind one around his finger and tug until she
“I ain’t gonna lie. My face feels like raw meat.”
“You aren’t at your best right now, of course, but that doesn’t change what’s beneath the bruises and bandages.” She continued her examination. He flinched a few times when she probed a particularly tender spot but he didn’t complain.
“Tobias, I need to ask you something.”
His stomach did a funny flip and he wished he had a drink. Or two.
“Tobias?”
“What?”
She hesitated long enough he opened his eye to peer at her. “Please don’t take offense, but you reek of horse, sweat and whiskey. Would you let me bathe you and wash your clothes?”
He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He smelled so bad she wanted to strip him and scrub the stench off him. Then again he would be naked and in Rebecca’s hands.
Although he was in pain from his head to his toes, the idea of this woman bathing him made everything harden. Everything. She would get an eyeful if she decided to pull the blanket back. He had no control over his body whenever he was around her.
“Am I making your eyes water?”
She managed a tired smile. “Perhaps. But I’ve discovered a clean patient is healthier. You have, ah, accumulated grime on you.”
Now his brief arousal had turned to shame. He did have grime on him. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d bathed. And of course he smelled like whiskey. By now his blood had been replaced with the damn stuff.
“I guess I need to get clean.” He forced the words out, knowing it was the right thing to do. But damn he wanted to be anywhere but in her care, hurting and unable to walk. It was his worst nightmare.
“I’ll go get some hot water and fresh towels.” Rebecca rose and grimaced, pressing her hand into her lower bag. Guilt sunk its teeth into him. She should be resting in the very cot he laid in. Instead, she had two people to nurse to health.
Tobias could hardly turn his head without wanting to scream, but he did it anyway. Will lay still as death across the room from him, his head swathed in bandages. Tobias stared at his brother, willing him to wake, to smile and be alive. Yet he didn’t move.
Something niggled at the back of his mind. A memory that wanted to make itself heard. He squeezed his eye shut and damned himself for being a drunk. The damn booze had pickled his brain.
Rebecca returned with a pail of water in one hand and an empty one in the other. She set them down beside the bed.
“Mr. Donovan’s housekeeper is heating the water for us. There is a hip bath we can use to mix the hot and cold. I’m going to clean up Will too. Both of you need a good wash.” She was brisk in her movements and her tone. “I’ll return shortly.”
He watched her leave again and wished like hell he could move off the damn bed. She was too independent, too in control. He supposed it was necessary for someone who doctored people. She couldn’t run around with her hands in the air panicking.
Soon Rebecca returned this time with a wooden hip bath and another woman on her heels. “This is Mary.”
The older woman nodded at him, but she didn’t meet his eyes. The gray-haired housekeeper knew his brothers, presumably, but wanted nothing to do with him. After the fight in the barn, which he was determined to remember, the people who worked at the ranch probably thought him a drunken madman. Not that he blamed them. It’s what he was.
Mary tipped the bucket of hot water into the hip bath holding the handle with a rag. She spoke to Rebecca. “I’ll get another bucket of cold for ya, Doc.”
Rebecca murmured a thank you and poured cold water into the hot, then reached in and stirred the mixture. Wisps of steam rose, curling around her face, kinking the curls that had escaped her braid even further. They bounced as she moved, making him want to wind one around his finger and tug until she
Similar Books
