Love So Deep by Kathleen Ball

Author:Kathleen Ball [Ball, Kathleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lasso Springs Publishing
Published: 2015-11-16T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

“It’s past the point of hurt, Ahern,” Patrick said as he brushed down his horse. “It’ll be just as bad if not worse than before. I think it might take a bit longer this time to get used to being alone.”

He grabbed the lead rope and started walking toward his first trap. It had been two weeks since their celebration and it had been hell. He wanted Samantha with a ferocity he had a hard time managing. He’d invented more reasons to be outside. He finally didn’t give a reason, he just left. She was too close, too pretty, and too appealing. Each time she smiled he felt gut kicked. It was torture.

“I’m glad it warmed up a might, old boy. I know, I know you’ve been in the barn way too long. Still we have to be careful.” He was used to talking to Ahern. He was a good listener.

He heard a wail and stopped. He listened again, trying to figure out what animal it could be. He ripped off his snowshoes and sprang up onto Ahern’s back. “Sounds like Samantha.” Ahern must have sensed his urgency. Patrick kept reining him in, not wanting him injured by the slushy cold snow.

It only took a few minutes but it seemed longer. What could have happened? He shook his head. Anything could happen out here. The cabin door stood open and Patrick grabbed his rifle, jumped down off the horse’s back and ran into the cabin, ready to shoot.

“What happened?”

“I need your help. Brian cut himself and it’s so deep I can’t get the bleeding to stop.” Her hands shook as she grabbed Brian’s right hand and showed his sliced palm.

He took off his outerwear and pulled a chair up next to Brian’s. “Let me see.” It was deep, very deep. “I need water.”

“I already tried—”

“Just do it. I need to know we tried everything before I turn to using heat.”

She turned white. “Like Violet Flower’s wound?”

Their gazes met and he nodded. Immediately fresh water was at his side with wet, wrung out pieces of cloth. He cleaned the blood away and pressed a cloth into the palm.

“It hurts.” Brian’s color had drained from his face.

“I know, son, I know. Do the best ya can. Scream out if it helps.”

Brian nodded and bit his bottom lip.

The bleeding didn’t stop. “Grab my whiskey it—”

“Solomon drank it all.”

“Sit, before ya faint.”

Samantha promptly sat on one of the crates. “I could try to sew it.”

“Not with the needle ya have. It’ll tear his skin to pieces. Damn, I should have the right supplies. My needle broke the last time I stitched myself up and I didn’t replace it.” He took his big buck knife and placed it into the hot coals. It would hurt like hell, but it was the only option. He’d had to do it to himself a time or two but a young boy was different.

“Samantha, do ya think ya could get a bucket of clean snow? It’ll be best to have for after.

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