The Officer and the Traveler by Rose Gordon

Author:Rose Gordon [Gordon, Rose]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Romance, Historical, Western, Historical Romance, Military, Westerns
Publisher: Parchment & Plume, LLC

~Chapter Eighteen~

If ever tension had been high between Gray and Michaela, it was nothing compared to the atmosphere between them when they returned to their room from the stockade.

“Do you need help with your coat?”

“I think I’ll leave it on,” Gray said, his jaw tight.

“You need to take it off so I can see your wounds,” Michaela argued.

Gray let out a strangled groan. “You don’t need to fuss over me.”

“I’m not fussing.” She grabbed the pitcher and basin off the shelf in the corner. “I don’t wish to be left a widow out here. Or worse, have to steal away to go see a naked Indian in the night in hopes he has a miracle cure for a wound you’re too stubborn to expose.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his sore lips. “All right. Come help me. But then we need to talk.”

“Believe me, I have no desire to leave this room until we’ve both shown our hands, so to speak.” She walked over to him and carefully helped him peel his tattered and stained coatee off. She set it on the bed then willed her hands to be steady and gentle as she went to work on the buttons of his shirt. When she reached the bottom and spread the fabric aside, a small, involuntary gasp lodged in her throat.

Several fresh bruises were forming and several bumps—ribs most likely—were poking out against the skin just above his waist in the most unnatural way. “You’re really hurt.”

“Yes, I am,” he agreed quietly.

She eased him backwards. “Sit on the bed, while I gather supplies.” She picked up the water pitcher and poured some in a glass for him to drink, then put the rest into the basin. “Do we have any fresh linen?” She already knew they did, but wanted to keep him talking to her. Especially now that he was closing his eyes and his face looked whiter than it had been earlier.

“On the shelf,” he mumbled.

Michaela took down a folded sheet and began ripping it into strips. When she had about four good sections torn off, she put one of the strips in the water and carried the basin over to him.

She set the pitcher down on the bed beside him and removed one of the water-saturated strips and lightly squeezed some of the clear liquid out of it, then folded it over a few times. “This might be cool.” She pressed the cloth against the gash above his eye, noting how he winced. She pulled her hand back and cringed. She’d hoped all the blood on his face had been deceiving, but it hadn’t been. Carefully, she wiped all the drying blood away from around his eye then moved to his swollen nose, lips, and chin.

Fear of hurting him worse kept her from squeezing his nose to see if it was broken. Not that there was anything she could really do for him if it was. She continued cleaning off his face with the fabric, the once clear water in the bowl now tainted with a red hue.

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