Read Online The Gila Wars by Larry D. Sweazy - Free Book Online Page B

Her fingers were warm, soft, and skillful as she pulled away the bandage. She drew in a deep breath.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” Josiah asked.
    â€œYou have other scars. I did not notice when I dressed the wounds. I was just concerned about helping you.”
    Josiah lowered his head then. Each of his scars held a story he’d rather not tell, rather not relive, even to Francesca. So he said nothing.
    â€œAre you a bad man, Josiah Wolfe?” Francesca asked, running her hand over the scar from the Lost Valley fight.
    He shook his head no. “I don’t think so.”
    â€œBut like Señor Elliot, you have killed men?”
    â€œOnly when I had to,” Josiah said. “To save a friend’s life, or my own. In battle, or in duty to a cause I signed up for, like this one, to ride with the Rangers. Killing is never easy, at least for me.”
    The breeze had pushed the door open, and a chicken clucked nervously outside. The first smell of breakfast wafted into the room.
    â€œThis wound is red, starting to gape,” Francesca said. “I fear infection is setting in. I have a salve, but it may work too slow. If the wound grows worse, we will have to set a hot iron to your skin to stop the infection from growing.”
    â€œIt’s only a graze,” Josiah said.
    â€œI have seen men die from simpler wounds, cuts to the hand.”
    Josiah nodded. He, too, had seen his fair share of deaths in the war caused by grazes, cuts, and wounds that had not seemed life-threatening. Most times, infections were stopped with amputations. He had felt lucky to walk home from the war intact, with all of his arms and legs, while so many of his fellow soldiers had left a piece of themselves behind on the battlefield.
    â€œIt is not a worry yet,” Francesca said. “I do not want you to have false hope that you are well enough to leave today. You need to rest, give yourself time to heal.”
    â€œI fear I have little time to waste,” Josiah said. “I’ll leave when Scrap returns, whether I’m ready or not.”
    â€œI understand, but I hope Señor Elliot takes his time in returning.”
    Josiah said nothing, just watched Francesca go about tending to his wounds. He could smell her clean scent over the mustiness of the room. She must have already bathed and gotten her chores done for the morning before seeing to him. When she pulled away, it saddened him. He wanted Francesca to stay close to him. There was an energy about her that he felt he needed, that he’d been lacking.
    â€œWhat is the matter, Josiah?” she asked.
    â€œNothing,” he said, the question snapping him back to reality. The guilt he felt about his rising feelings for Francesca must have crossed his face. He could not forget that he was courting Pearl, that there was a woman in his life, working her way into his heart, but neither could he forget that Pearl was hundreds of miles away, while he was here, being looked after and cared for by a very beautiful woman. “I suppose I’m just missing home.”
    â€œYou fear never seeing your
hijo
, your son, again?”
    Josiah nodded. “It’s more than that.”
    Francesca pulled away and placed the used bandage on the table next to the bed. She was standing, facing him. “What?”
    â€œThere is a woman I’m courting. I care about her.”
    Francesca said nothing. Another chicken clucked outside the door, drawing her attention from him. But there was no mistaking the quick look of disappointment flashing on her face as she turned away. She took a deep breath then, squared her shoulders, and said, “I have warmed a tub of water for you, señor, if you would like to bathe before you eat breakfast.”
    And with that, Francesca hurried out of the room, leaving behind everything that she had brought in, including her smile and the offer of comfort.

CHAPTER 9

    Josiah was sitting outside when