Her Lone Cowboy by Patricia Forsythe

Author:Patricia Forsythe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2015-08-14T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

“THERE’S SOMETHING TO be said for pain medicine,” Laney whispered as she gazed down at Caleb’s sleeping form. “It makes you too groggy to kick me out.”

As promised, after Sam had been checked out at the emergency room and pronounced unharmed, she had organized care for Caleb’s animals. There was nothing for him to worry about, she thought smugly as she settled herself into the recliner beside the bed. The nurses had brought her a pillow and blanket even though they’d assured her she didn’t have to stay the night because they would be checking on him regularly.

No doubt, they thought she was overreacting since it was only a broken leg, but they didn’t know about his nightmares. She closed her eyes, though her mind kept replaying the day’s events. If Caleb had been alone in that situation, he would have eventually made his way back to the house and tried to deal with the pain on his own, for a while at least. She knew being idle wouldn’t be easy for him, but it was the best thing. And he could forget about being a recluse, at least for the next few weeks.

Too restless to sleep, she got up and wandered aimlessly around the room. She picked up Caleb’s clothes, folded them and started to put them in the small closet. Unable to resist, she lifted his shirt to her nose and sniffed the combination of laundry soap, dust and Caleb that clung to the fabric. Even though she knew no one had seen her, she quickly put the shirt away and closed the closet door.

Glancing down, she saw his boots and picked one up. He had big feet and these boots were heavy, probably reinforced, she thought. They weren’t cowboy boots. Tipping it up, she looked for the manufacturer’s name and was surprised to see something handwritten on the back in bold, black ink. It was the letter O and a plus sign. She stared at it for several seconds before understanding clicked into place.

“His blood type,” she whispered. “O positive.”

Shakily, she set the boot down and then stood staring at Caleb’s sleeping face. She hadn’t known that soldiers wrote their blood type on the backs of their boots. Humbled, she turned away, marveling at the men and women who were willing to die for people they didn’t even know and used such a simple gesture to try to preserve their own lives.

* * *

IN SPITE OF the painkillers, or maybe because of them, Caleb slept fitfully, dreaming of mountain lions and horses and little boys, and waking several times to find Laney curled up in the chair near his bed, her head resting on a pillow she’d balled up and stuffed beneath her neck so that her head lolled over the arm of the chair. He’d never seen anyone do that before and he wondered groggily how she avoided getting a stiff neck. He hadn’t wanted help from her, but here she was, sleeping a few feet away—and he found it.

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