Dakota Cowboy ; Mail Order Cowboy by Linda Ford

Author:Linda Ford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2019-06-06T17:23:52+00:00

Chapter Four

What a woman, Nick marveled, after they’d carried the still-unconscious old man into the spare bedroom and settled him on the fresh sheets. Not only had Milly Matthews not succumbed to a fit of the vapors while she watched him pull out the arrow shafts and the blood welled up onto the skin, but she quickly halted her sister from doing so as well. None of the English ladies of his acquaintance would have done as well as she did. His admiration for her grew apace, right along with his desire to get to know her better.

Now, of course, was not the appropriate time to express such sentiments. “We’ll have to keep an eye on those bandages over the wounds, in case he continues to bleed,” he told Milly. “And watch for fever.” He knew he did not have to tell her that neither would be a good sign—though fever was almost inevitable. Right now, at least, only a very small amount of dried blood showed through on the white cotton.

“We’ll set up watches,” she said in her decisive manner. “I’ll take—”

They all tensed when the sounds of pounding hooves reached them through the open window. Nick grabbed for the shotgun, which he’d gone back outside for as soon as they’d laid the old foreman down on the bed.

“Oh, my heavens, are they back to kill us, too?” Sarah cried, shrinking into the corner.

But Milly strode over to the window and flicked aside the homemade muslin curtains. “It’s the posse from town. Maybe they’ll be in time to catch those thieving Comanches and get our cattle back.” From the slumped set of her shoulders, though, it didn’t look as if she believed it.

A minute later, the men clomped inside, spurs clanking against the plank floor, bringing with them the smells of horses and leather and sweat. Milly went into the kitchen to meet them, and he heard her telling them about Josh’s injuries and how “the Englishman” had pulled the arrows out of the foreman.

All nine of them were soon tramping back into the spare bedroom to see Josh for themselves—and to satisfy their curiosity about the foreign stranger, Nick assumed.

Milly introduced each one to him. They were an assorted lot, some were tall, some short, some had weathered faces and the lean, wiry-legged build of men who spent much time in the saddle. Others were paler and slighter, like shopkeepers. A couple seemed about the same age as Nick; three were younger, boys really, and the rest had graying or thinning hair. All of them nodded cordially to Nick, and all appeared dressed to ride except for the oldest, whom he had seen climbing out of a two-wheeled covered buggy.

“And last but not least is Doctor Harkey,” said Milly, indicating the older man now bending over Josh and peering under the bandages. Doctor Harkey straightened as his name was called, and reached out a hand to Nick.

“You did well, it appears,” he told Nick. “Doubt I could’ve done

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