Read Online Whirlwind Wedding by Debra Cowan - Free Book Online Page B

gritted his teeth, hoping he would pass out once she got started.
    It didn’t reassure him that she flinched before she even began.
    He looked away, guzzled down another burning swallow of liquor. He felt a sharp prick, then a red-hot sting slicing through his flesh. “Damn!” he roared.
    She bit her lip as she pressed his flesh together to take her first stitch.
    Sweat trickled down his temple and his vision hazed. Witha shaking hand, he lifted the bottle and downed the rest of the liquor. Pain throbbed through his body, razor sharp.
    â€œTry to breathe. It will help.” Catherine didn’t look up from her task. Even though her voice shook, she was reassuring.
    She took another stitch and another. The hurt layered upon itself until Jericho grabbed the edge of the bed with his good hand. His knuckles burned. His arm quivered.
    Her skirts brushed his hand, her warmth reaching out to him. He tried to focus on the fresh clean scent of her, and wished again he could pass out.
    â€œLast night, I noticed you walked without your hip dipping. That’s a good sign there’s no nerve damage.”
    He grunted.
    â€œWhere are you from, Jericho?”
    Her voice seemed thick and heavy, as if coming through a wall. “Southeast Texas. Outside of Houston.”
    â€œHow far is it from here?”
    â€œFar.” A lifetime away.
    â€œHow long have you been a Ranger?”
    How the hell was he supposed to remember? “Since I was nineteen. Thirteen years now.”
    â€œAnd before that?”
    â€œI apprenticed with a gunsmith in Uvalde. Took me two years to get a commission.”
    â€œWhat made you want to be a Ranger?”
    He appreciated that she was trying to distract him, and he struggled to force his mind on to something other than the pain. “My pa was one.”
    â€œIs he tracking the McDougals, too?”
    Jericho watched her through slitted eyes. “He’s dead.”
    â€œI’m sorry.”
    She kept stitching with a single-mindedness he envied. “He died when I was twelve. My ma raised me and my sisters.”
    â€œYou have sisters?” She didn’t glance up. “How many?”
    â€œFour.”
    â€œBless the saints!” She kept stitching. When would she finish? “Older or younger than you?”
    â€œAll younger.” Agony made his voice crack. “How’s it coming down there?”
    â€œJust a few more stitches. Luckily, you didn’t tear the wound all the way down.”
    He didn’t feel so lucky right now, but if he lived through this, he probably would.
    â€œWhat are your sisters’ names?”
    â€œDeborah, Jordan, Michal and Marah.”
    â€œAll Bible names?”
    â€œYes, like mine. My pa was Noah, and he wanted us to all have a name from the Bible like he did.”
    â€œI know Jericho is a city and Jordan is a river, but Michal was a person, wasn’t she? King David’s daughter?”
    â€œYeah.” He squeezed his eyes shut, using his flagging energy to focus on Catherine’s voice.
    â€œWhat about Marah? I’m not familiar with that name.”
    â€œMy ma says it’s the first camp of the Israelites after they crossed the Red Sea.”
    â€œAnd your other sister?”
    â€œDeborah was named after a judge in the Old Testament. She’s the oldest of my sisters.”
    â€œDo they all live outside of Houston?”
    â€œYes.” He struggled to focus past the pain. “They’re all still in school except for Deborah. She’s a teacher.”
    Catherine tied a knot in the thread and snipped it with her scissors. “Do you miss them?”
    Jericho’s leg throbbed like blue blazes. He did miss his ma and Deborah. The other girls had been small when he’d left, and half afraid of him. “Yeah.”
    If his ma were here she would make him a pecan pie and spoil him lazy.
    â€œI grew up wanting a sister or a brother,” Catherine